Mother of wars

The most important difference between science and religion is that in science, things can be proved seriously wrong or undergo major modification. For instance, once upon a time, the Earth was flat, the stars were fixed, we were the center of the universe and humans and monkeys were not descended from a common ancestor. All those beliefs were subsequently shown to be incorrect.
Or take Newton's description of gravitation. It works well enough to land men on the Moon but to understand why light bends in the presence of matter, the theory had to be reworked by Einstein's notion of space-time curvature. Also, up to a few years back, scientists thought they knew what the universe was composed of - till a complete unknown called dark matter was found to be making up almost 70% of it.
Religion, on the other hand, tries to remain rock steady. It has to; how can the divine word change? You can't suddenly whittle the Ten Commandments down to nine or add an extra Noble Truth to the original four. It's what draws people to their faith: the robustness and integrity.
At the same time, that's also religion's greatest downside; there's no desire to learn anything new even though curiosity is the hallmark of its followers who see in science's giant baby steps progress nevertheless being made in the right direction. However, if religion can reinterpret its received wisdom in the light of scientific discoveries - as the Vatican did when it apologised to Galileo and accepted Darwinism - there's a chance it could reinvent itself to become an even greater force. When that occurs, those who have accepted Jesus Christ as their personal savior are ostensibly and physically whisked off to heaven. "He giveth power to the faint," says the Bible. "And to them that have no might, He increaseth strength."

Praise the lord!

The Rosewood

Once upon a time, there was a rosewood tree who loved music more than anything else in the world. After each monsoon rain, he would hear the frogs leaping in and out of the little pools of water that had collected on the forest floor, calling back and forth at one another melodiously, and it would think, "Oh how I wish I could make music like them?"

It was the same thing with the crickets that gathered on his branches. They would chirp away all night rubbing their legs against their wings and making harmonious sounds that orchestrated and filled the air. Or the birds which warbled and trilled amongst the leaves. The rosewood would listen longingly and sigh, "Oh how I wish I too could make such lovely music like they do."

One day, a wizard decided to take a nap under its shade and the rosewood immediately said to him, "Great wizard, it is my deepest desire to make music like the frogs and the crickets and the birds. Can you help me?" The wizard thought for a while and replied, "Yes I can, but there's one condition: you have to die.

Are you willing?" When the rosewood nodded, the wizard chopped the tree down, made a guitar with the wood, and gave it to the finest musician in town. Sometimes the musician would take his guitar into the forest and play the most soulful of tunes in the perfect stillness and solitude he found there. And all the frogs and crickets and birds who would hear would say to themselves, "Oh look, how beautiful that rosewood tree's music is. It's far better than ours."

Moral: But then, you have to sacrifice your life for your art.As Christ did for you on the cross for this unworthy art !