There’s a line that haunts me and should do the same for the modern church:
“We’re more well known for what we’re against than what we’re for.”

The reason it’s so haunting is because it’s true! Somewhere along the line, curiosity died. We stopped asking how God might be moving in the world and settled for condemning anything that didn’t fit neatly into our religious categories.

We traded wonder for war. And the gospel doesn’t need more gatekeepers—it needs witnesses.

It’s time for a reset.

Curiosity Isn’t Compromise

Let’s get this straight: being curious is not the same as being soft on truth. We don’t elevate curiosity to avoid conviction—we elevate it to avoid arrogance.

The problem isn’t that we care about truth. The problem is that we’ve started thinking we are the creators of truth.

Truth belongs to God. We are stewards, not bouncers. We hold the truth with courage, but we share it with compassion.

That means instead of blasting everything we don’t like in culture, we start asking better questions:

  • Where’s the image of God breaking through here?
  • What ache for redemption is underneath this trend?
  • How can we point people to Jesus from this exact place?

That’s exactly what Paul did in Acts 17. Standing in the middle of a city drowning in idols, he didn’t light it up with condemnation. He opened his mouth with curiosity.

“Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious.”
(Acts 17:22, ESV)

That’s not flattery. It’s insight. Paul noticed their hunger. Instead of condemning them for having it all wrong, for worshiping other gods, for condemning them for not wearing the right clothes or using page 5 or 15 in their hymnals – he found common ground. He leaned in with curiosity. He found their altar “To the unknown god” and said, Let me tell you who He is.

“What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.”
(Acts 17:23, ESV)

That’s bold. That’s missional. That’s curious without being spineless. He didn’t snub his nose at them nor did he crumble under the pressure to be relevant. He leaned in with gospel curiosity and God opened a door for His Word to shine through.

We Need a Curious Church Again

A curious church is a dangerous church—in the best way possible.

Because curiosity opens doors that criticism slams shut.
Curiosity engages. Criticism alienates.
Curiosity listens. Criticism lectures.
Curiosity builds bridges. Criticism burns them down.

Jesus never backed down from truth, but He constantly asked questions that unlocked people’s hearts.

“What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51, ESV)
“Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15, ESV)
“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?” (Luke 6:46, ESV)

Jesus wasn’t afraid of hard questions. So why are we?

If we want to reach people, we need to stop lobbing grenades at culture and start sitting at tables. Remember Zaccheus anyone? If we want to represent Jesus well, we need to stop treating curiosity like a threat and start seeing it as a tool of the Spirit.

Let’s Be Known for What We’re For

Here’s the challenge: what if we became known again—not for what we boycott—but for what we build?

We’re for truth.
We’re for grace.
We’re for families, students, single parents, skeptics, and strugglers.
We’re for justice and mercy and life in Jesus.
We’re for the kingdom coming on earth as it is in heaven.

We don’t need to run from culture or rage against it. We can walk into it—eyes open, Bibles in hand, hearts on fire.

The church doesn’t need to be louder.
It needs to be deeper.
More curious.
More Spirit-led.
More like Jesus.

Let’s stop critiquing from the sidelines and start engaging from the streets. Let’s be like Paul in Athens—deeply rooted, wildly curious, and bold enough to speak truth wherever and whenever we find an altar to the unknown.

Because maybe… just maybe… God’s already there, waiting for someone to connect the dots.