How religions persist in the Modern world

One cool fall Sunday afternoon, I was walking from the parking lot of Onnuri Church to my apartment four blocks away. Walking hand in hand with my parents, I noticed many other families and groups of people strolling by, also on their way home after church. They each had their Bibles either tucked under their arms or gripped in their hands. ‘An indispensable tome of words’ my mother once told me. I looked at my Bible askew. The tattered leather sheathing fluttered in the autumn breeze. Truly a timeless compilation, one of the oldest works in history. Yet, we still refer to it today. Why? How do religions persist in a world determined my logic, science and empirical evidence? What drives people to put faith in something so elusive as the divine spirit?
I felt sorry for myself for asking this question so late in the progression of my life. For all this time, I had obediently attended church and prayed to a god whose presence I took for granted. Not once had I questioned my parents or whomever else on whether a divine entity really had effect on our lives. Going to church and praying to god had become a ritualistic pantomime rather than a genuine spiritual pursuit. The church atmosphere was soothing; the thought that I was surrounded by people who sought the same god was comforting.
But, coming back to the question that had me befuddled-why do people believe in god? I read somewhere that only 1 out of 20 people 'connect' with god. And yet, people choose to spend hours of their time, heaps of money, on something so subtle.
This evokes my intellectual curiosity, for the modern world is one that is so driven by scientific reasoning; determined as either black and white. Yet, in this world whose very existence is corroborated by logic and sound evidence, exists the realm of divinity.

Lesson learned

Gravity took its toll on me.
It happened at the gym.
There I was, sheepishly lifting weights that were clearly too heavy for my scrawny arms.
But I did so anyways, with great effort; my stubbornness had taken the better of me.
Not only after I had finished 4 sets could I find the luxury to wipe the sweat off my temples and look out the window.
The day was beautiful; the green trees swayed in the wind
People strolled by, enjoying the warm sunshine and the crisp autumn air.
What I had not noticed
was the 20 kilo dumbbell rolling slyly towards the edge of the press bench.
It inched closer and closer towards the edge, like a hungry mongoose preying on a defenseless rodent, before making its plunge.
It, fueled by the force of gravity,
mercilessly struck down on my unguarded toe.
It was the sound that surprised me at first; the solid thump that made everybody in the gym cringe.
Then came the pain.
It shot through my leg like an electric shock
The weight had come down on my fourth toe of my left foot.
It didn't seem too bad at first, for the pain was soon replaced with a strange numbing sensation
But later the pain came back,
It was kind of a throbbing pain, that shed its presence in minute intervals
Pulsing.
Palpitating.
It didn't stop.
I was forced to take off my shoe and take a closer look.
The little toe was so distended that it seemed out of place
Like an ugly brute, it stood out grotesquely in the line of polished toes.
I cringed and swore.
It sucked.
'I wish I hadn't come here in the first place' I thought.
'I should have just stayed home and read Conrad' I thought.
But no. I had to come to the gym and let fate work its magic.
I guess it could have been worse
At least I learned my lesson:
never go do something when you know you should be doing something else.