Once a man who sold Encyclopaedias, knocked on a house door to make a sales pitch.
A woman answered the door. She heard the salesman's sales pitch and then cut him off.
"No thank you. We already have a very nice encyclopaedia in our home", as she leaned back and pointed to the bookshelf way at the back of the room.
The man squinted and peered in, then said, "That is not an encyclopaedia, thats a bible".
The woman was shocked. She said to the man, "You have very good eyesight. Even at this distance you could read and recognise that its a bible".
The man said, I can't read anything from this distance, but I can certainly see the thick layer of dust on it, to know its a Bible.
This is the case with many of us who keep holy books in our homes. The same holy books, the ones whose message that we swear by and claim to follow. The same books we rarely read and if we do read, we do not understand. Yet for these books, we are ever so ready to kill, and die for.