July 28, 2026

From the Rector…

You’ve heard the old saying, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Originally, the idiom was “Care killed the cat.” It meant that when you nosed around in another person’s business, you often found yourself in trouble. The word “care” was changed to “curiosity” in the early 1900s to suggest that inquisitiveness itself was dangerous, though people often forget that the original saying ended with, “…but satisfaction brought it back.”

I wonder if we’ve lost our sense of curiosity. Maybe it is because we’ve been told that asking too many questions will only get us into trouble. Or maybe it is because we learn from an early age not to ask them. (The favorite word of just about every two-year-old is “why,” to the point that parents eventually throw up their hands and respond, “Because I said so.”) Either way, our lack of curiosity has consequences, not the least of which is that it limits our imaginations and impairs our relationships.

Imagination requires curiosity. It requires us to ask “wondering” questions like, “I wonder what the world could be like if there were no poverty or crime?” Those kinds of questions awaken parts of our brain that encourage possibility instead of resignation; hope instead of despair.

The same is true of our relationships. Instead of trying to control the thoughts and beliefs of others, approaching them with wonder and curiosity allows us to appreciate our differences. It makes room for listening, learning, and even growing together.

Jesus knew this. He consistently encouraged people to wonder about what the world could be—or perhaps more accurately, what it already was if they only took the time to truly see it. His parables were designed to elicit curiosity. Comparing the kingdom of God to mustard seeds, pearls, yeast, and treasure hidden in a field invited people to imagine their world in entirely new ways. But that was not what the authorities wanted.

Again and again, when the scribes and Pharisees heard Jesus’ parables, they became angry and began plotting ways to silence him. It wasn’t because what Jesus was saying was wrong. It was because what he was saying threatened the status quo. To encourage people to wonder—to cultivate curiosity instead of simply accepting the world as it was—threatened the stability that those in power depended upon for their comfort and their false sense of security. If the masses—the poor and marginalized, and even those who simply struggled to get by—ever began to imagine that there was more to life than the place society had assigned them, then the rich and powerful might have to loosen their grip on wealth, privilege, and power. And that is always threatening.

The priestly and ruling class of Jesus’ day made up less than one percent of the population, yet they exercised extraordinary influence over daily life. Even under Roman occupation, they understood that as long as they could manage the expectations and imaginations of the people, they could preserve their own positions.

As Christians, curiosity and imagination are necessary acts of discipleship. Continuing the work of Jesus Christ means not only imagining God’s kingdom, but proclaiming the good news that another way of living is possible—a vision in which everyone belongs. If we have fallen for the big lie that this world is as good as it gets, or that there is nothing we can do to make it better, then we have stopped seeing the world the way Jesus did.

The kingdom of God has always begun with people willing to wonder if God’s dream for the world might actually be true—and then live as though it is.

Light and Life,

Candice+