Wouldn’t you like to fly before you die?

A debate I’m having with a commenter on one of my blog posts has got me thinking about the nature of inquiry. Is it possible to simply stop inquiring when you believe you have found the right answer, and is it desirable?

When does one stop inquiring about stuff? When the answer makes you feel comfortable, or satisfies a need? What if someone comes along with a different answer or shows you another way? Would you shrug it off, because you’re quite happy with what you have found already? Is comfort better than the disquiet of being doubtful? Would you rather shoot yourself up with some drug because it makes you feel safely exhilarated, or would you rather experience the natural thrill of sky-diving. Both is probably going to kill you, but wouldn’t you rather fly, before you die?

Remember when as a child you constantly peppered your parents and others with those why questions? Why is it when you grow up, you stop asking why? Why do you settle for easy answers? Is it possible that a child understands the nature of inquiry better than an adult?

M, the young [I assume] and no doubt bright women who stirred up all these questions, posed the following:

I’m puzzled by the fact that if a discovery or inquiry leads to anything other than Christianity, it is accepted and applauded. If the road of inquiry ends at the cross of Christ, it is argued that you need to keep searching until you find the truth..Here’s the big question. What does one do “IF” this is the truth…

What I’m curious about is her starting point of inquiry? Did her questioning take her through a gamut of scientific literature, before she settled for the answers provided in the realm of the supernatural, or did she start at the bottom end of the supernatural and settle for the most pleasing or needs-satisfying version? Just a question mind you, not an allegation.

When it comes to inquiry, I would rather have ten different scientific suppositions about something, which leads me to more inquiry, than have one neat, comforting, but supernatural explanation, that stops all enquiry because it relies on the authority of someone you can never question. The end to questioning whether it be self-inflicted for comfort, or enforced through coercion and fear, pronounces the death of human intelligence. When inquiry stops, you might as well be dead.