are you still curious about jesus?
We may say we follow Jesus. But have you ever thought about what it means to follow someone? Does it mean you are curious about them, wanting to know more? We use the word “follow” all the time. We follow people on social media. We follow podcasts. We follow authors, bands, teams, teachers, and people whose lives make us lean in a little. With one tap of a “Follow" button, we say, “I want to know more.”
That is a small thing, of course. It may only mean we want to see more photos, hear more songs, catch the next episode, or keep up with someone’s thoughts. Still, underneath the action is something deeply human. We follow what has our attention. We follow what stirs our curiosity. We follow because something in us wonders what might come next.
The word “follow” shows up again and again in the stories of Jesus.
Around the Sea of Galilee, people followed Him. Some followed because they had heard Him teach. Some followed because He healed the sick. Some followed because they were hungry, desperate, confused, or hopeful. Some followed because they had never met anyone like Him.
In Matthew 4, Jesus sees Peter and Andrew casting their nets into the sea and says, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” A few verses later, James and John leave their boat and follow Him too. There is mystery in that moment. They did not have a full doctrinal statement in hand. They did not know every place the road would take them. They did not yet understand the cross, the resurrection, or the mission that would one day carry the message of Jesus across the world.
They simply took the next step. They followed. That is often how curiosity works.
Curiosity rarely begins with complete certainty. It begins with attention. It begins with a question. It begins when something inside us says, “There is more here than I first thought.”
Maybe that is what drew so many people to Jesus. They saw something in Him they could not easily explain. He spoke with authority, yet He moved toward the hurting. He told the truth, yet sinners felt strangely safe coming near Him. He challenged the proud, lifted the overlooked, touched the unclean, welcomed children, fed the hungry, calmed storms, and asked questions that reached beneath the surface.
No wonder people were astonished. No wonder they marveled.
The Gospels are full of people trying to figure Jesus out. “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” the disciples ask in Mark 4. In Luke 5, after Jesus heals a paralyzed man, the people are filled with awe and say, “We have seen extraordinary things today.” Over and over, Jesus creates wonder in people who thought they already understood the world.
Which raises a question for us: Has it been a while since Jesus stirred that kind of wonder in you?
For many of us, the answer is yes. At some point, we stopped getting curious. Maybe not in every part of life, but in the familiar things. When it comes to Jesus, Scripture, prayer, church, or the story we inherited, we may have stopped asking the deeper questions.
Sometimes that happens because life gets busy. We are trying to pay bills, raise kids, answer emails, keep relationships together, and make it through the week. Curiosity can feel like a luxury when life feels full.
Sometimes it happens because faith has become too familiar. We’ve heard the stories so many times that we stopped listening for what we missed. Noah, Moses, David, Mary, Peter, the cross, the empty tomb. We know the characters. We know the broad strokes. We know how the story ends. So we assume there is nothing left to discover.
Sometimes it happens because questions do not feel welcome. Maybe you asked something honest and got a quick answer that shut the conversation down. Maybe you were told to “just have faith” when what you needed was someone to sit with you and help you think. Maybe doubt made you feel ashamed, so curiosity started to feel dangerous.
And sometimes curiosity fades because disappointment wears us down. We prayed and did not see what we hoped for. We trusted someone who hurt us. We saw Christians act in ways that made Jesus harder to see. So we kept our distance. We stayed near the language of faith while our hearts grew quiet.
That can happen slowly.
In relationships, two people can sit across the dinner table and realize they no longer ask each other many questions. There may still be commitment. There may still be history. There may still be love. Yet when curiosity fades, closeness often fades with it. One of the ways love stays alive is through wonder. Who are you becoming? What are you carrying? What have I missed in you? What is still here for me to learn?
The same is true in our love for Jesus. Curiosity is one of the ways faith keeps paying attention. It is how our love grows, deepens, and becomes more alive over time.
When we stop wondering, faith can become familiar in the wrong way. We may still believe the right things, but we stop looking closely. We stop asking what Jesus meant. We stop noticing what moved Him, what grieved Him, who He welcomed, who He challenged, and what He was showing us about the heart of God.
But curiosity wakes love back up. It opens the Scriptures again and says, “Lord, help me see what I have been missing.”
Maybe you have turned to Jesus for salvation, yet have only begun to discover the riches of life with Him. Maybe you know the basic story, yet have not explored its depth. Maybe you have read the New Testament, yet skipped over the parts that felt too Old Testament, too long ago, or too distant from your actual life. Maybe you have heard about Jesus for years, yet still sense there is more to Him than you have seen.
That is a good ache. Do not ignore it.
Jesus never seemed threatened by honest seekers. He welcomed questions, asked better ones, and invited people to come and see. In John 1, when two disciples begin following Him, Jesus turns and asks, “What are you seeking?” They ask where He is staying. His answer is simple: “Come and you will see.”
That is such a gracious invitation. Come and see.
Not “figure everything out first.”
Not “clean up every motive.”
Not “make sure you can explain it all.”
Just come closer. Pay attention. Walk with Me. Watch what I do. Listen to what I say. Bring your questions into the light. That may be the next step for you too.
You do not need to force yourself into fake excitement. You do not need to pretend your faith feels fresh if it feels tired. You do not need to act like you are further along than you are. You can begin with one honest prayer: “Jesus, help me get curious again.”
Then open one Gospel and follow Him around the Sea of Galilee. Watch who comes near Him. Notice who feels threatened by Him. Pay attention to what makes people marvel. Look for the questions He asks. Look for the people He sees. Look for the moments when you find yourself saying, “I never noticed that before.”
Curiosity may feel like a small beginning, but small beginnings matter. Jesus compared faith to the smallest of all seeds, a mustard seed. He never seemed unimpressed by small things placed honestly before Him.
So here is the invitation: Get curious again. Make a fresh start of following Him.
Accept you don’t have every answer. Realize you don’t need perfect faith. It’s okay to not know exactly where the road will lead. Instead, follow because there is still more to discover. Follow because Jesus is still worth your attention. Follow because the part of you that wants to know more may be more alive than you thought.
Maybe today is the day you tap the button again in your own heart and say, “I want to know more.”
That is curiosity.
And it is a beautiful place to begin.
Paige Peacock Vanosky brings a deeply personal and communal approach to biblical teaching, influenced by her formative years under the mentorship of Dr. Buckner Fanning at Trinity Baptist Church in San Antonio.
Her foundational principle - drawing circles instead of lines - has shaped her ministry and led to the creation of a Bible study that embraces diverse religious perspectives. This study laid the groundwork for The 30-Minute Bible, designed to provide an objective and approachable exploration of the Bible's narratives, making the text accessible to seekers and believers from all walks of life.