‘One Sabbath, when he went to dine at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees, they were watching him carefully.’
Luke 14:1
When I was at university, I knew a few guys who were ardent atheists. At the time, that meant Richard Dawkins-reading, religion-hating, zealous atheism.
One of these guys, who we’ll call Nigel, was a cynic. He rolled his eyes when he heard any argument for faith, made his arguments abasing Christianity with relish, and was relentlessly selective in the information he made use of. His manner was of a man who had firmly made up his mind, watching closely for any difficult text of Scripture, example of unanswered prayer, or advance in scientific knowledge that might challenge the Christian narrative.
But then there was Chris. Chris was also openly an atheist, with many atheist friends. And yet, conversation with Chris was different, and showed something far closer to agnosticism than pure atheism. Chris was curious. He was interested in a broader spread of information, keen to understand the arguments that Christians were making. And so Chris asked to meet up weekly, so we could read and talk through the Bible together. By the time we graduated, Chris hadn’t made any decisions on faith, but I still remember the analytical curiosity that Chris brought to conversations.
Nigel was a cynic; Chris was curious.1
There’s a world of difference between the two.
Verse 1 of today’s reading sets the scene for where we’re headed.
They were watching Him carefully.
The Greek word used here is two words stuck together. One of these words means, ‘watch closely’, and then this is emphasised by another word, meaning ‘to come close/to come alongside.’ Squashed together into a single word, this has the feeling of coming close up to another, in order to scrutinise their every movement with great precision. The Pharisees are watching Jesus, studying Him, examining Him.
But, as we’re learning, they’re also coming with a very specific agenda. They’re not open to learning or to being proved wrong. They’re looking for holes in Jesus’ life and arguments, reasons to criticise. They’re studying Him with the single motive of disproving His Messianic claims and strengthening their existing view of Him. They’re loading their gun for a legal crucifixion. It’s pure confirmation bias. It’s pure cynicism.
As a pastor, I have a lot of conversations with people who have questions about their faith. As I listen, I often find I’m trying to work out whether, underneath this, this person is coming with cynicism, or curiosity.
Cynicism can take lots of forms. It can come from feeling angry with God, or finding a part of Christian morality or practice difficult. It can come from an underlying desire to grasp control back of our lives, or to justify behaving in a certain way that we suspect God wouldn’t like. It can come from reactive anger at a church or church leader, or disappointment from an unanswered prayer.
And yet curiosity is so different. Curiosity wants the real answer in order to grow—despite what it may demand of them. It might sound, to others, like skepticism or doubt, but when it is pure curiosity, often the individual is on a journey not to a diluted or deconstructed faith, but a stronger and more mature one. Great questions are often the doorway to great depth.
So, how do we tell the difference?
Motive.
Motives are so often hard to find—even in ourselves.2 And yet, we we find ourselves in moments of disturbance or questioning or uncertainty, checking our motives is a good start. Because the cynical motive—driven by other angers, prejudices, ambitions or intentions—leads to crucifying the Messiah. Whereas curiosity—with patient openness, listening, prayer and learning—keeps us on the pathway to wisdom.
Reflect:
As I read this today, and check my own heart, what do I see more of in myself: cynicism, or curiosity?
If cynicism, where might that be coming from? Bring this to the Father, being honest, and asking for His healing.
Pray:
Father,
When I check my heart,
And find cynicism living there,
I think it may be more because of my pain
Than is comfortable to admit.
I’ve a lists of hurts
That would make disproving you,
Criticising you, or harming you,
Make me feel better—
At least for a little while.
But Father,
I don’t want to be a cynic,
Crushing you into my mould
Until I’ve deconstructed a God of my own invention.
I desire the way of truth,
And of wisdom.
And so, Spirit of the living God,
Would you soften this hard heart today,
Making it curious, teachable, and open,
That I may move deeper into the ways of wisdom
And the wonder of your true self.
In Jesus’ Name,
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Isaiah 49:8-52:12 | Proverbs 18:10-15
Another biblical distinction between these two ideas is that of being ‘hard-hearted’ and having hearts that are soft. Hard-heartedness describes a brute refusal to receive anything outside of our existing ideas. Whereas softness of heart shows the humble willingness to accept God as He reveals Himself to be.
Proverbs 20:5 puts it well: ‘The purpose in a man’s heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out.’