OF THE MAKING OF BOOKS

The stylus glides softly, grooving words into the soft clay. Soon the clay hardens and carries the word-grooves into the future.

The ring of the mallet hitting the chisel seems to add power to the words chipped into the stone.

The intriguing whisper-scratch of the quill as it pulls lines of ink across the parchment lures the reader.

Scrolls and books and tablets become library-arsenals of silent power.

Computer keyboards sound the rapid-fire of the 26 soldiers of the alphabet.

Printing presses multiply pages of words. The rhythmic sound of the rollers keeps saying, "Tell them, tell them, tell them."

Photo and video cameras freeze the shape of words for ready display as photographs or on screens--some of them bigger-than-life.

Microphones capture words with electricity and implant them on tapes, discs and chips--ready for amplifiers to explode the words into living decibels.

Transmitters hurl words wrapped in electricity and light beams into space where satellites ricochet them back to the rest of the world.

Indeed, of the making of books--of the making of devices to hold and communicate words--there is no end.

And there is no good excuse for not telling everybody about a saving, healing, returning Jesus.