We live in a world where your genes can be mapped, where your cells can be copies, where your face can be altered. Heck, with surgery you can go from being a man to a woman. We have science to tell us of the
earth's creation; rocket probes explore the universe. The sun is no longer a mystery. And the moon-- which people used to worship ? We brought some of it home in a pouch, right?
So why, in such a place where the once-great mysteries have been solved, does anyone still believe in God or Jesus or Allah or a Supreme Being of any kind? Haven't we outgrown it? Isnt it like Pinocchio, the puppet? When he found he could move without strings, did he still look the same way at Geppetto?
Look, if you say that science will eventually prove there is no God, on that I must differ. No matter how small they take it back, to a tadpole, to an atom, there is always something they can't explain. Something that created it all at the end of the search. And no matter how far they try to go the other way- to extend life, play around with genes, clone this, clone that, live to one hundred fifty- at some point, life is over. And then what happen? When life comes to an end? When you come to the end, that's where God begins.
from: Have A Little Faith
by: Mitch Albom
1907 Anna Munthe Norstedt Swedish, 1854-1936 Still Life with Sweet Peas