I remember the day I fell in love with philosophy. Spring semester, sophomore year in college. Intro to Philosophy was one of the courses I had to take in order to graduate. On the first day, the professor told us how the word “philosophy” translates to “love of wisdom.” He went on to explain the difference between wisdom and knowledge. Knowledge is simply knowing. Wisdom is putting knowledge into practice.
At that moment, I knew I wanted to learn more. A switch flipped in my mind, and everything I didn’t know I wanted was staring me in the face. At the end of the semester, I changed my major to writing and added a philosophy minor.
Granted, all the classes I took focused on white men, and were taught by white men through a conservative Christian lens. In some cases, I was the only girl in the class. And I was teased for studying subjects out of sheer interest rather than investing in my future. But these things didn’t matter to my twenty-year-old self. I was intrigued by the ideas presented from these philosophers and the questions they asked. What is love? What is the nature of morality? Can we understand God beyond the teachings of religious texts?
Recently, I thought a lot about my relationship with this subject. How I got into philosophy and why I still love it, even though I’m not a philosopher. And this, in turn, led me to wondering what I’d do with myself if I stopped asking questions.
Life Before Philosophy
Something I think about from time to time is the Bible story of Solomon asking God for wisdom in 1st Kings 3. In the days leading up to Solomon’s coronation, God appears to him in a dream and offers to grant him anything he asks for. With the duties and responsibilities weighing on his mind, young Solomon asks for “a discerning heart.” For the knowledge of what is right and wrong. And God is so pleased by this that, in addition to wisdom, he grants Solomon wealth and honor. Then Solomon wakes up and realizes it was a dream.
I was a teenager when I first read the story. Due to my Christian upbringing, I was taught that we as Christians have to make God happy. And upon learning how Solomon asking for wisdom made God happy, I decided to do the same. Then I fell asleep and forgot about it the next morning.
High school was a weird time to be a Christian, and it’s not something I look back on fondly. My self-esteem was at an all-time low while my naivete was at an all-time high. But even back then, I had this nagging feeling that the Christians in my life weren’t telling me everything. And there were things about my own beliefs that didn’t add up. Did I believe in God for myself, or did I believe because someone told me to? What makes something good or bad? If sex was so bad and consequential, why did God make it? And why did people at church and school hate Obama so much?
Sadly, neither church nor my Christian school were great places to ask questions like these. I didn’t connect with most of my teachers, and those I liked didn’t have the answers I was looking for. At church, the leaders ranged from unhelpful to spiritually abusive. When I felt comfortable enough to ask questions, I was either patronized or told to shut up. I remember one night at youth group asking, “What if you’re caught between two bad choices and there’s no way out of making it?” The others looked at me like I’d grown a second head, and no one answered the question.
College and Beyond
I felt an odd liberation from studying the ideas presented in philosophy class. The ability to look at my own ideology through a non-Biblical lens meant I could ask any question I wanted. One of my favorite college memories is an evening at the school café where me and a friend traded questions about the nature of God. If God is all good, where did evil come from? Is the Bible meant to be interpreted literally? If prayer isn’t a Genie’s lamp, then what is its purpose? Finally, I could understand God beyond memorizing Bible verses and singing worship songs.
And then there came a time where asking questions and finding answers was no longer joyful. One church made me miserable, so I stopped going. I cut ties with a Bible study leader after she broke my trust. I found another Bible study that challenged everything I thought I knew about God and the Bible. After another church responded less than favorably to the pandemic, I cut church out of my life altogether. I stopped attending the Bible study I loved after participation felt like a lot of pressure. When I finally crossed paths with another philosophy-enthusiast, he asked me questions I couldn’t understand.
It took a while for me to realize I stand at a crossroads with my worldview. Now I know the Bible isn’t everything it appeared to be. And yet, I have to dig deeper and ask more questions to figure out what worldview resonates with me. As thrilling as it is to find answers, the fear of the unknown always stops me. How do I know I’ll be okay once I get to the other side? Will my findings compel me to leave Christianity for good? Will I be okay with that choice?
There are some things I don’t need to know, and I’m okay with that. I don’t need to know about my relatives’ sex lives, or lack thereof. I don’t need to know how my future will play out. And I don’t need to know what’s waiting for me when I die. However, I’ve been stagnant in many aspects of my life. To find courage and move forward, there’s one important question I have to ask.
What if I Stopped Asking Questions?
I thought about what asking questions has done for me. It’s helped me shape my ideology and understand the world better. It’s deepened my love of fiction and storytelling. It’s brought me closer to my friends and family. If I didn’t ask questions and keep my ears open for the past ten years, I’d still be a naive asshole. And if I stop asking questions, if I close my ears, if I presume to know everything, I’ll stop growing. I’ll turn into someone I don’t want to be. I’ll never be better or do better if I stop now.
So as scary as it is to dig into the unknown, it’s better to do so. It’s been good for me so far, even though I haven’t liked all my findings. Asking questions is better than assuming to have all the answers.
