Christianity Needs A Quiet Riot Now

You ever notice how the loudest people in Christianity are the ones with the least interesting things to say? They’re out there screaming about Jesus, waving their theological pom-poms, and selling their latest sermon series as if faith is just another multi-level marketing scam. But here’s the kicker—they’re all about certainty. No room for doubt. No space for mystery. Just polished, prepackaged answers for everything.

Which is why the church needs a little Quiet Riot.

Yes, the 80s rock anthem Cum On Feel the Noize may not seem like a theological masterpiece, but bear with me. That chorus—“I don’t know why”—should be Christianity’s new theme song. Because, despite centuries of doctrine, systematic theology, and endless debates, the honest answer to most big spiritual questions is: I don’t know why. And that’s not a bad thing.

The Dangers of Theological Certainty

The modern church operates like a factory—cranking out certainties, manufacturing answers, and stamping a big, shiny “GOD SAID SO” label on every questionable doctrine they pump out. Need to know why bad things happen? Here’s a sermon series. Wondering about free will vs. predestination? Here’s a book. Have concerns about why God seems to endorse genocide in the Old Testament? Just trust His mysterious ways (and please, tithe).

It’s all a scam.

Because certainty sells. If pastors admitted they don’t have all the answers, how would they justify their mega-salaries and book deals? If they stopped pretending that theology is about control rather than curiosity, congregations might start thinking for themselves. And that would be bad for business.

But here’s the reality: Jesus never promised certainty. He invited people into doubt, questions, and mystery. Look at the disciples—they rarely knew what was going on, and Jesus seemed fine with that. Faith was never meant to be a spreadsheet of systematic theology—it’s a raw, loud, unpredictable journey.

Faith Isn’t a Spreadsheet, It’s a Soundcheck

I used to think faith meant knowing all the answers. That’s what I was told—study the Bible, get the doctrine right, and it’ll all make sense. But the older I get, the more I realize the only thing I know for sure is that I don’t know much at all. And I’m okay with that.

Real faith—the kind that moves mountains and actually means something—doesn’t come from treating God like a theological Rubik’s Cube to be solved. It comes from experiencing something bigger than yourself. It’s less about proving God exists and more about screaming into the void and realizing the void might just scream back.

And that’s where Quiet Riot gets it right.

Cum on feel the noize, girls rock your boys, we’ll get wild, wild, wild.

That’s faith in action. Not the prosperity gospel. Not the dead-eyed, monotone Sunday school lesson on why hell is totally justified. Not the creepy youth pastor trying to make Jesus “relatable” by comparing him to Taylor Swift. Real faith is messy, uncertain, and defiant. It refuses to fit into systematic theology because it was never meant to.

Jesus, Doubt, and Why We Need a Riot

Meanwhile, the apologetics bros are out there in their I Can Prove God Exists t-shirts, treating faith like a TED Talk mixed with a used car pitch. If they can just argue you into Christianity, maybe they’ll unlock some divine sales commission. But faith was never meant to be a PowerPoint presentation. If it were, Jesus would’ve just left behind a PDF instead of parables that still confuse people 2,000 years later.

So what do we do? Well, for starters, stop pretending like faith has to be safe. Stop treating it like a set of doctrinal checkboxes you have to tick before God lets you into the club. Tear down the theological walls and admit what we actually know about the divine: not much. And that’s the whole point.

Jesus never called for an empire of certainty. He never said, “Blessed are the theologians, for they shall explain me to death.” He invited people into mystery. Into paradox. Into something bigger than our tiny, systematic attempts to define God.

So maybe it’s time for Christianity to embrace the unknown. To stop pretending we’ve got it all figured out and start singing along with Quiet Riot: I don’t know why. Because if faith is about anything, it’s about stepping into the noise and trusting that, somehow, God is there too.