In a world once ruled by myths and miracles, we have built new temples, labs, data centres, lecture halls. And in them, we practice a different kind of faith: science. The formulas are our scriptures, the peer-reviewed journals, our holy texts. The white coats, the new priesthood. We bow not to altars but to algorithms, but here's the quiet truth, science, while powerful, was never meant to replace belief. It was meant to explore, to question, to evolve.

Yet somewhere along the line, we stopped asking why and settled for how.

We traded wonder for certainty, and curiosity for control. We made science infallible, forgetting that even its greatest truths begin with the words: “We believe…” Science gives us knowledge, but not always wisdom. It teaches us what a heart is made of, but not what breaks it. It maps the brain but not the soul. When we elevate it to a religion, we lose nuance. We forget that science, at its best, admits what it does not yet know. And faith, at its best, leaves room for mystery. It’s not either-or. The lab and the chapel can co-exist. The microscope and the metaphor can share space.

One searches the stars, the other listens to meaning in the silence between. So perhaps the goal isn't to worship science but to practice it with humility.

To let it light the path but not declare the destination, because what makes us human is not just the need to understand, but the grace to wonder.