As I went out a Crow In a low voice said, "Oh, I was looking for you. How do you do? I just came to tell you To tell Lesley (will you?) That her little Bluebird Wanted me to bring word That the north wind last night That made the stars bright And made ice on the trough Almost made him cough His tail feathers off. He just had to fly! But he sent her Good-by, And said to be good, And wear her red hood, And look for skunk tracks In the snow with an ax-- And do everything! And perhaps in the spring He would come back and sing."
Science is fed by the victims of exhaustive analysis. Thesis and Conclusion alike are scrutinized by the same unrelenting gaze. Too many variable factors, and the entire system is savaged by the verdict: subjective. The triumph of weird theories like relativity hardly negates the trusted values of empiricism. Through this withering, but productive gate, all students of science are induced to pass. The passage creates a mindset that tends to be skeptical, always questioning the most fundamental, and plausible foundations of sundry theories.
Measurement is key. How much energy does the particle need to slam into an atom and ramp up the electron configuration? How did the patient react (on a scale of 1-10) to a certain stimuli?
This viewpoint is so pervasive that anything that cannot be measured seems a sham. After all, don't we have methods to measure to the nanometer, or conversely, to estimate the tremendous velocity of light?
So what do we make of God? We certainly can't measure him, much less see him to measure him.
Science cannot measure God; and so it discards him, scoffing. After all, if we can't measure it or see it, is it real?
The problem is this: God is not IT, God IS. I embrace the logical gap, I hold on to what is intangible, see the visible workings of the invisible, and hear the stories of many others, who testify to the fact that God IS.
God is beyond measurement. If he weren't, why would I worship him?