The Conflict of Curiosity
I had a realization come to me a few months ago while reading a biography, like the light that pierces in from the hallway at night through a cracked-open door. In the time since, the idea was confirmed by small excerpts and conversations that I’d love to share with you today.
Over these last few years, I’ve heard people talk about curiosity with great reverence and awe. And I get it. As a home-educating mother, I’m always on the look-out for the topics that spark curiosity in my children. When our sons pose new questions, I rejoice because I know that means that their minds are engaged.
“What is the Bermuda Triangle?”
“What type of butterfly do the fuzzy caterpillars turn into?”
“What does that word mean?”
Curiosity can lead us all on a path to greater understanding and innovation. However, I’m coming to see all the more clearly that curiosity is not a character trait free from conflict.
The biography that I read (and highly recommend) was of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a theologian and pastor who was a young man during Hitler’s calculated rise and suffocating regime. The book followed his life and wrestle about how to honour God and be a leader in those troubling times. One portion described the atrocities that occurred at various concentration camps, and the kinds of torturous experiments that Nazi doctors were conducting on the prisoners.
Though barbaric racism justified their actions in their minds, the entire tone of their reports was a celebration of what was being learned. They were curious and were doing what they could to make new discoveries.
“How long could a body survive exposure at various temperatures below freezing?”
“How many times could a bone be broken and still heal?”
“What is a way to inexpensively sterilize masses of people?”
The list continued.
I’m reminded that in the Biblical account of humanity’s first temptation, the enemy’s strategy was to prey about the natural desire within us to know more. An accusation came against God’s character questioning why He had placed that single limitation on what trees these first humans could eat from.
It reads like this: (Genesis 3:1-7 NASB)
“Now the serpent (the enemy) was more crafty than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Indeed, has God said, ‘You shall not eat from any tree of the garden?”
The woman said to the serpent, “From the fruit of the trees of the garden, we may eat; but from the fruit of the tree which is in the middle of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat from it or touch it, or you will die.’”
The serpent said to the woman, “You surely will not die! For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate; and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate.
Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked…”
So humanity was tempted to become intimately acquainted with “the knowledge of good and evil”, believing that it would make them more powerful. That it would actually make them more like God. They had previously trusted the LORD God and His boundary as something instituted for their good. They had previously felt that they didn’t need to know and experience EVERYTHING because they trusted that if God had said, “No,” it was better that way. Everything changed because they forfeited that trust.
Now, admittedly I was a sheltered church kid and am now very grateful for it. My parents had gone to youth group together, married young, and I was dedicated as an infant in the church where they had gotten married. We gathered with our church community every week of my life.
And I had a very real relationship with the temptation of curiosity. It always sounded reasonable.
How can I relate to people if I’ve never experienced drugs? If I’ve never had a hang-over?
How can I understand people’s sorrow if I’ve never felt the sting of rejection from sexual experiences that went wrong?
I felt embarrassed because my story of salvation and coming to faith in God sounded so much less “dramatic” than the testimonies of life transformation I was hearing.
The thing was, over the years I have also heard from men and women of their deep desire to have never taken a step down the road that they had been rescued from. They wished that they could have maintained innocence.
They wished they had never seen that messed up movie that left them feeling dirty.
They wished that they had never let curiosity instigate that porn addiction.
They wished that they had not “tried” alcohol, drugs, sexting, or sold themselves for a little side cash.
They wished they had never started on the path that led to a sex addiction with strangers.
They wished that they had not followed along with their friends into that perverted game.
The list goes on.
So you see, curiosity can be a beautiful thing that leads to genius innovation or beautiful discovery, but it can also be the gate to a dangerous place.
I am absolutely an advocate for honest conversation about the realities that we face in this world. There is a big difference between learning about something and experiencing it. I believe we see this difference outlined in the Bible, in Ephesians 5:11 where it says, “Have nothing to do with the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” We don’t have to place our hand in the fire to recognize that it burns, or to be able to be effective in bringing healing to others’ pain.
For those of us who claim to believe in the reality of Jesus Christ and all He did for us, can we hold on to trust in all of our behavior and follow Him? Can we believe that His boundaries are for our good? That He can bring us wisdom without perversion or shame?
Even our curiosity must bow its knee to the authority of God if He is to be our Lord.