Who speaks of god and conceptualizes an idol, which can profit him nothing? He and his kind will be put to shame; eloquent speakers are nothing but men.
Let them all come together and take their stand; they will be brought down to terror and infamy.
The preacher takes a texts and works it into a sermon; he shapes an idol with words, he forges it with the might of his gesticulating arm. He gets hungry and loses his strength; he drinks no water and grows faint.
The theologian highlights with lines and makes an outline with a marker; he roughs it out with technical terms and writes it with letters. He shapes it in the description of man, of man in all his glory, that it may dwell in a concept.
He harvested words, or perhaps took a noun or verb. He let it grow among the words of the dictionary, or planted a neologism on his web page, and the internet made it grow in familiarity.
It is humanity’s tool for communication; some of it he takes and expresses himself, he talks about fires and baking bread. But he also fashions a god and worships it; he makes an idol and bows down to it. Half of the words he speaks by the fire, in idle chatter as he prepares his meal, he roasts his meat and eats his fill.
He also warms himself and says, “Ah! I am warm; I see the fire.” From the rest of his vocabulary he makes a god, his idol; he bows down to it and worships. He prays to it and says, “Save me; you are my god.”
They know nothing, they understand nothing; their eyes are plastered over so they cannot see, and their minds closed so they cannot understand. No one stops to think, no one has the knowledge or understanding to say, “Half of it I used for conversation; I even baked bread following words in a recipe, and I roasted meat and I ate according to another recipe. Shall I make a detestable thing from the words that are left? Shall I bow down to a verbal concept?”
He feeds on ashes, a deluded heart misleads him; he cannot save himself, or say, “Is not this thing in my mind and my speech a lie?”
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