We all know that parable of Natural Theology; kudos to William Paley. You walk along the beach, see a stone, sorta looks like Nixon … probably the waves molded it. But: You find a watch, keeping perfect time: there must be a Watchmaker.
Darwinians -- Dawkins at their polemical head -- charged into the fray, with such works as The Blind Watchmaker. Correctly noting the astonishing evolutionary sagas for which Natural Selection offers a reasonably plausible account. Watch, cf. eye; blah-de-blah-de-blah; q.e.d. (There may be objections; but for sake of argument, let us simply accept these accounts.)
But then -- lo, what is this, amid the driftwood ? The truths of Topology ! Timeless -- immutable-- beyond all species or genera. Whence these ? -- Nay, but stranger still : our own miraculous, unsurvivalworthy consilience with this: Our halting, but yet admirable steps, in harmony. As: the Urysohn Metrization Theorem. What ebb-tide ever left that upon the shore ? !
-- This I offer, not as proof, but as matter for meditation. And yet -- independently of this -- antecedently to this, and to all evidence else: I do, indeed, believe in Him, the imprint of Whose fingers we yet feel upon the flesh ….
Praise Him.
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