The Sly Smirk That Keeps Us in the Dark

There’s a certain smirk that shows up in our culture whenever someone challenges the norm. It’s not always loud or obvious. Sometimes it’s just a tone. A shrug. A subtle chuckle that says, “You really believe that?” before you even finish your sentence.

It’s easy to mistake this for intelligence—sharp, confident, and quick to correct. But often, what we’re really seeing is fear dressed up as certainty. This kind of dismissiveness isn’t about discernment. It’s about control.

And it keeps us trapped in the dark.

Jesus said the enemy is the father of lies, and one of the most effective lies he spreads today is this: that truth must be mocked before it’s explored, and that anything unfamiliar must be false. He doesn’t have to destroy curiosity. He just has to humiliate it.

We live in a time when asking the wrong kind of question—about God, identity, meaning, systems, anything—can get you laughed off before you’ve even made your point. The phrase “trust the science” has been used not as a genuine invitation to seek truth, but as a modern way of saying, “Don’t think too hard. Just repeat what you’re told.”

It’s a clever trap. Especially for those of us who grew up being dismissed in smaller, quieter ways. Maybe you were told you were “too sensitive” or “reading into things.” Maybe your gut instincts were shamed. If so, this cultural habit of ridicule doesn’t just hurt—it reactivates old wounds.

But the truth is, this spirit of mockery has always followed the people of God.

The prophets were laughed at. Jesus was accused of being demon-possessed. Paul was called insane (Acts 26:24). The early Church was ridiculed by both religious elites and pagan intellectuals. Not because they were wrong, but because they were unshakably free.

Freedom is threatening to those still chained to appearances.

Dismissiveness thrives where people are afraid to unlearn. It mocks what it doesn’t understand and shames what it secretly envies: the courage to live by conviction. And in a world addicted to performance, that kind of freedom looks like foolishness.

But we’re not here to be clever. We’re here to be faithful.

Don’t let the smirks silence your spirit. You have every right to ask deeper questions, to hold wonder in one hand and wisdom in the other. You don’t need credentials to be curious. You don’t need a majority vote to speak what’s true.

They may roll their eyes. They may write you off. But you are not crazy for noticing what others ignore. You are not wrong for stepping outside the status quo.

You’re just awake.

And in a world that worships numbness, waking up is a revolutionary act.

So stay curious. Stay rooted. Stay lit from within.

You were made for the light—no matter how many people prefer the dark.