1The Lutheran July 2012

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JULY 2012NATIONAL MAGAZINE OF THE LUTHERAN CHURCH OF AUSTRALIA

He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ [Eph 1:5]

St Mark’s, Dalby Qld

Full-time mum

Enjoys reading, playing music

Fav text: Prov 3:5,6

Alice Springs Lutheran Church, NT

Labourer

Enjoys watching AFL (particularly Port Power) and kangaroo hunting with his family

Fav text: Matt 19:14

Trinity, Bordertown SA

Farmer

Enjoys farming and hockey coaching

Fav text: Luke 8:5–8

CONTACTS Editor Linda Macqueen PO Box 664, Stirling SA 5152, Australia phone (+61) 08 8339 5178 email linda.macqueen@lca.org.au

Beyond10K Project Officer Janise Fournier phone 08 8387 0328 email janise.fournier@lca.org.au

National Magazine Committee Wayne Gehling (chair), Greg Hassold, Sarah Hoff-Zweck, Pastor Richard Schwedes, Heidi Smith

Design and layout Comissa Fischer Printer Openbook Howden

EDITOR/ADVERTISING phone 08 8339 5178 email linda.macqueen@lca.org.au

SUBSCRIPTIONS phone 08 8360 7270email lutheran.subs@lca.org.au

www.thelutheran.com.au We Love The Lutheran!

As the magazine of the Lutheran Church of Australia (incorporating the Lutheran Church of New Zealand), The Lutheran informs the members of the LCA about the church’s teaching, life, mission and people, helping them to grow in faith and commitment to Jesus Christ. The Lutheran also provides a forum for a range of opinions, which do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editor or the policies of the Lutheran Church of Australia. The Lutheran is a member of the Australasian Religious Press Association and as such subscribes to its journalistic and editorial codes of conduct.

SUBSCRIPTIONS and CHANGES of ADDRESS LCA Subscriptions PO Box 731, North Adelaide SA 5006 phone 08 8360 7270 email lutheran.subs@lca.org.au www.thelutheran.com.au

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Issued every month except in January

ADVERTISEMENTS and MANUSCRIPTS Should be directed to the editor. Manuscripts are published at the discretion of the editor. Those that are published may be cut or edited. Advertisements are accepted for publication on a date-received basis. Acceptance of advertisements does not imply endorsement by The Lutheran or the Lutheran Church of Australia of advertiser, product or service. Copy deadline: 1st of preceding month Rates: general notices and small advertisements, $18.00 per cm; for display, contract and inserted advertisements, contact the editor.

People like you are salt in your world

Joy ToomeyBruce Sharpe David Wagenknecht

BEGA AND BETTER!Outdoor girls Miriam and Tabitha Zweck (Bega, NSW) take off with The Lutheran as soon as it arrives and try to be the first to finish the Sudoku.

Photo: Sharon Zweck

Send us a photograph featuring a recent copy of The Lutheran and you might see it here on page 2

[ Matt 5:13 ]

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Surprise someone you know with their photo in The Lutheran. Send us a print-quality photo, their name and details (congregation, occupation, what they enjoy doing, favourite text) and your contact details.

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FEATURES

05 No Strings

07 Chalk & Cheese

11 Two Books

27 The Icon of Archer Street

29 The Father’s Farm

32 Take the Wheel

COLUMNS

04 From the President

10 Reel Life

14 Little Church

15 Inside Story

23 Letters

24 Stepping Stones

26 Notices/Directory

31 Bookmarks

34 Heart and Home

36 World in Brief

38 Coffee Break

07

05In Australia and New Zealand we don’t hear much about orphans anymore. Abused and neglected children, yes, but not orphans.

In the developing world, though, orphans and the care of orphans are still prominent features in civic affairs, as they were throughout biblical history.

In Old Testament times, orphans were often adopted by relatives or other members of the tribe. But, so far as we can tell, adopted children did not acquire the same rights and privileges that biological children had.

In New Testament times, the upper classes adopted children as a way to continue the family line where there were no biological children. And, unlike in Old Testament times, these adopted children acquired all the rights and privileges—including the father’s inheritance—that biological children could expect.

Against these cultural backdrops (Semitic and Greco-Roman), St Paul told believers they had been adopted by God (Gal 4:6; Eph 1:5). Jewish readers would have understood this to mean that they had been rescued by God from death. They knew that an orphaned small child, unadopted, would certainly die. For Paul’s Greco-Roman hearers, though, adoption more likely meant inheritance—full rights as children to receive all the father’s lavish gifts.

One of the writers in this edition of The Lutheran says that adoption is not so much a relationship (which can ebb and flow) but a position (which is set in concrete, immovable). Likewise, in baptism God does more than merely tell us he loves us; he proves just how much he loves us by granting us the permanent status of children, heirs (1 John 1:12; Gal 3:29).

Which means, as an adopting parent, he’s stuck with us no matter what we do or how we turn out. He can’t return us to the store.

You might think that after all these adoptions God would have had enough, that he would have exceeded his tolerance threshold for dealing with problematic children. But every time I witness a baptism, I see that his love still hasn’t run out. There is room for one more child ... this one at the font, whom he just can’t resist.

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We Love The Lutheran!

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So often we regard anything that attracts us as good; anything that repels us must be evil. We tend to restrict our love to what we feel happy with.

We humans claim that we are still in the image of God and that therefore any characteristic or personality trait with which we are born, no matter how flawed it may be, is a gift of God.

The age-old issue is that of desiring to know good and evil, the temptation in the Garden of Eden. We want to be like God or even to be God, the all-knowing judge.

What happened, of course, in human beings challenging God in order to know good and evil is that we set ourselves up against God. We mortals ended up separating ourselves from him.

In separating ourselves from God, we now fight the ways of God, judging what he says on the basis of our claimed knowledge of good and evil. Such separation also puts us at odds with each other. When we claim to love someone it is basically because that person makes us ‘feel good’, rather than loving them so that they may become loving, encouraged by our service to them.

We are alienated from creation and now have to fight the weeds and pests in crops and gardens. We hit out at society with graffiti and littering.

Even within ourselves we find that we are ill at ease; we don’t like our appearance, perhaps, or we struggle with psychological issues and inner conflict.

The image of God in which humankind was created was lost at the fall.

We are still God’s creatures. However, if we are born with certain defects, we cannot claim that this is God’s will or design. God’s plan is to recreate us, his fallen creatures. That was achieved by Christ. Through faith in him we become children of the heavenly Father. Looking at us now, God sees his own Son. He can even use our sicknesses, ills and afflictions to bring us blessing.

For us, as we are placed in the now and ‘not yet’ of broken human life and the eternal reclamation which is already realised but not yet fully experienced, we constantly need repentance. We need to confess our sins and to be absolved by no-one less than God himself.

Repentance includes recognising our sin, accepting that we are sinful and trusting God to forgive us. The prodigal son turned to his father at home (Luke 15), not just because he had hit skid row, but because he had a father to whom he could return. He had a father whose love for him ensured that he was a child who would be welcomed home. So it is for us with our Father in heaven.

We adore Christ. Let us be sure to place what God says in his word and in the risen Lord Jesus—his word made flesh for us—above all our instincts, logic and human claim to know more than God does.

Ever returning to our Father in heaven who has the knowledge of good and evil, we find the welcome we crave but have never deserved.

Keep up to date with news, prayer points and call information by visiting http://www.lca.org.au/presidents-page-archive.html or by subscribing to the president’s electronic newsletter. To receive the newsletter, send an email to itofficer@lca.org.au giving the email address you would like included. LCA pastors and layworkers are automatically included in this list.

Rev Dr Mike SemmlerPresident Lutheran Church of Australia

We are still God’s creatures. However, if we are born with certain defects, we cannot claim that this is God’s will or design. God’s plan is to recreate us, his fallen creatures.

5The Lutheran July 2012Vol 46 No6 P185

Like most children growing up in New Zealand through the 1940s, I retain memories of ration books, hand-me-down clothes, basic food and minimal toys or luxury items.

Despite being raised in what would be perceived as a low-income welfare family, I saw through the eyes of a child a world around me that seemed normal and safe. Mum was a central figure in my young life, along with a brother some seven years my senior. I have only sketchy memories of there being a ‘dad’ in the house, until another adult became part of the scenery, and I clearly remember being told to address him as ‘Dad’ when he became my stepfather.

Soon after that, my brother left home and my parents moved out of the city to rent an isolated house in the country. Our home was surrounded by hilly farmland.

Up to this point my only contact with church had been a rather scary memory of being the focal point of an event inside a dark and echoing building, standing with Mum and some unknown others around a high stand of some sort. It was, of course, a baptismal font, at which I had been ‘done’. Over the following few years some very spasmodic attendance at a Sunday

school has left me with memories only of the external features of the church building. All else is a blank page.

Adapting rapidly to being an only child, with hundreds of hectares of farmland to explore, an insatiable curiosity with all things pertaining to the world of nature became the driving force in my young life. Although I was shy with people, the animals and birds, both farm and feral, were of great interest to me, and I soon learnt their behaviours, characteristics and even some of their ‘language’. Being able to call some wild birds into much closer proximity than their natural inclination allowed was cause for real joy. My knowledge of creation grew, but I had almost no knowledge of the Creator.

Family relationships were neither strained nor close, though I felt an almost stifling smother-love from Mum, who seemed paranoid that I avoid anything that might hurt me. My step-dad was from an era where the attitude was that children should be seen and not heard, and he was probably relieved by my long absences from the house, when good weather permitted my wanderings.

I graduated from the small country school to attend a boys-only secondary

school with over one thousand pupils. My first day was an overwhelming culture shock.

Back home that afternoon, Mum called me into the house and tearfully proclaimed that she was not my real mother. I was twelve.

She explained that she and her first husband had adopted me. When she told me who my birth-parents were, I realised that I had unwittingly sat and watched my biological father shearing sheep.

Although having experienced the trauma of moving house and changing schools, as we had moved from one rented house to another, there had always been the underpinning security of knowing who I was, if not where I was. That security had been erased in an instant, and thus began the painful struggle to establish my sense of self.

It was to be several more years before I learnt that at the time of my birth, my birth-parents’ marriage was crumbling and that I had been fostered out until they could ‘sort themselves out’. I was

Being adopted into a family —forever, no strings attached— is a rare and precious gift. And for some people it even happens twice.

No Stringsby Peter Stratford

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Above: Peter with his foster mum, who later adopted him

The Lutheran July 20126

subsequently legally adopted by this foster family. Some years after that, my birth-parents’ were reconciled in their marriage, and they made attempts through legal channels to retrieve me. But, alas, without me being formally adopted back, this was not possible, nor was my ‘mum’ willing to relinquish me to them.

Leaving school on my 15th birthday, I went to live with my birth-parents and two older sisters. I spent about four years with them, while also maintaining contact with my ‘other’ family. It was during that period that I got my first real exposure to church attendance, but even then it was rather hit and miss, mostly the latter.

The following years were like most other people’s young-adult lives—moving into the workforce, an occasional crush on some girl—but my passion lay in being out tramping the hills, hunting game or just enjoying the beauty of the land and everything in it. This severely hindered my social life for a long time.

But then Doreen, a Lutheran girl born and raised in Hamilton, Victoria, came into my life. We lived the first fourteen years of our married life in the Motueka district of New Zealand and were members of the Upper Moutere parish. In December 1977 we moved to Australia with our two primary-school-age daughters. We were rather nomadic for some years, before settling in Burnie, where we have lived in the same home for about 28 years now.

Not until after I married did church attendance become a regular part of my life (through Doreen’s influence). Being part of a tiny congregation where roles were quickly delegated, I found myself leading a lay service before I had even seen one—first for our own small group, and later for a couple of other small isolated congregations. Becoming Lutheran is almost synonymous with being on at least one committee, and soon I was involved in many aspects of church life.

But it was only after many years of being an active church member and attempting to fulfil the associated obligations that the realisation that there was more to all this began to seep slowly into my consciousness. This was the beginning of a long and gentle process of the Spirit, transforming me from merely being a church member into having a personal walk with God.

Much later I came to see clearly the parallels of my earthly adoption with my heavenly adoption. When Mum and Dad adopted me, they made a public unilateral covenant to be my parents. This was without my knowledge or even my comprehension, and it was unconditional. My reciprocation, acknowledgement or even gratitude was not part of the deal. They would love and care for me, regardless. Only when I became a parent myself did I truly understand and appreciate that commitment.

So, too, at my baptism. There was a public unilateral covenant, from God himself, that he would be my heavenly Father. He would love and care for me, totally irrespective of my response to him. This was also without my knowledge or comprehension of what had taken place at that moment in my life. Although my comprehension of the love God has for me is growing, I believe I will not truly understand it until I meet him in heaven.

Over the years, there have been some people who, when hearing of my start in life, have expressed concern for what they perceived to be a disadvantaged childhood. Not a bit! True, there’s been some pain along the journey, but that’s probably equally true for each of us in this earthly life. I believe that there was commensurate gain for pain, and the way I see it, I’ve been adopted … twice!

Peter Stratford is a member of Martin Luther Lutheran Church, Burnie, Tasmania.

When Mum and Dad adopted me, they made a public unilateral covenant to be my parents. This was without my knowledge or even my comprehension, and it was unconditional. My reciprocation, acknowledgement or even gratitude was not part of the deal.

Vol 46 No6 P186

It was only after Peter married Doreen, a Lutheran girl from Hamilton, Victoria, that he started going to church again.

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7The Lutheran July 2012Vol 46 No6 P187

Adoption is the only way some couples are able to become parents. For those of us with an existing family of even only one child, the only adoption possible in Australia is of a handicapped child. In 1994 and 1998 we adopted two girls, Pauline and Tiffany.

Pauline was born with Down Syndrome. Although she was slow to learn and needed extra care, she was a placid child and a pleasure to care for. This gave us the impression that there would not be much extra work involved in adopting a second child with Down

Syndrome, because we wanted to give another child a home.

How wrong we were! Four years after adopting Pauline, we took delivery of Tiffany (baby Stacey) at just two weeks old. From the moment we picked her up, she was a demanding child. If she was hungry or wanted something, she wanted it now, and she screamed until she got what she wanted.

Our two girls are exact opposites, like chalk and cheese. Our previous four children were different also, but not like these two. Pauline had to be taught everything: crawling, walking,

feeding, and everything after that. On the other hand, Tiffany could crawl early, and could get up on a chair and access things that we thought were out of reach. Pauline would wait until we were ready to attend to her; Tiffany couldn’t wait.

Both girls went to Papua New Guinea (PNG) with us in 1991, and they were accepted by everyone. Sometimes it became frustrating for us when we were out shopping, as most people stared at them. and some giggled or pointed. Sometimes they would come right up to the parked car to look at

If you have two completely different children, do you love one more than the other? Of course not!—and neither does God.

chalk & cheeseby Cherryl and Ron Hartley

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The Lutheran July 20128

them and maybe stroke their hair. There is no word for ‘handicapped’ in pidgin, so we became accustomed to the girls being referred to as long long (mad/crazy/uneducated).

At home in Australia we could leave the girls occasionally with some family members, so we could go out shopping or for coffee without them. But in PNG we had them 24/7 for six years, and at times this stretched our patience to the limits.

In 1997 we were able to leave the girls with family and friends while we had an overseas holiday to visit with missionary friends whom we had met in PNG. This was a wonderfully relaxing time. We recommend to all who are tied down with family obligations to try to get relief in order to recharge the batteries. We will be forever grateful to all those who helped us at that time, especially those who cared for Tiffany.

For twelve years we tore our hair out trying to cope with Tiffany’s behaviour. As well as being demanding, she would take things that didn’t belong to her, knock things over and run … all sorts of naughty things that made us wary of taking her places. She couldn’t sit still and concentrate on anything for more than 40 seconds. Pretty books,

children’s videos and TV shows couldn’t hold her attention. She would be up and gone, which meant we were constantly on the go, just to make sure she didn’t do something inappropriate, or walk out the door and keep going.

She did in fact disappear a few times over those twelve years, which made life difficult indeed.

God has taught us much patience over the years, and he’s still teaching us.

We have now retired to Kingaroy in rural Queensland, where both girls are involved in care groups in the community. Pauline, almost 28, and Tiffany, 24, are lovable, caring young women. Both of them are able to look after their personal hygiene, shower, dress, make their beds and assist with small things around the home. They will always need a carer to get their meals and help them with many other things, and we pray for good health so that we can continue to provide for them. They are entirely dependent on us for their wellbeing.

When we were considering adoption 28 years ago, thoughts went through our minds about caring for the girls when we were gone, especially the making of a will. What would our other four children

think about sharing our possessions (if we had any) with two girls who weren’t their own flesh and blood?

However, it wasn’t long before any thoughts of distinguishing between our children disappeared. Adoption didn’t even come into the picture. These girls belonged to us just as much as the other four did. That’s what adoption is—taking something or someone as your own.

As Christians, each one of us is adopted into God’s family at baptism, and we become entitled to all the benefits of that adoption. We inherit eternal life and anything else that God decides to bestow on us as his children. No half measures. ‘We are made sons [and daughters] of God through Jesus’ (Eph 1:5). Adoption is not so much a word about a relationship; it’s about a position.

Although adopting our two girls hasn’t always been easy, and it still ties us down sometimes, we feel blessed to have been able to give a loving Christian home to two of God’s special children. We thoroughly recommend it.

Cherryl and Ron Hartley are members of St John’s Lutheran Church, Kingaroy, Queensland.

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Adoption didn’t even come into the picture. These girls belonged to us just as much as the other four did. That’s what adoption is—taking something or someone as your own.

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‘As Christians, each one of us is adopted into God’s family at baptism, and we become entitled to all the benefits of that adoption’: Cherryl and Ron Hartley with Tiffany (left) and Pauline

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9The Lutheran July 2012

It is such a treat to celebrate birthdays with children or grandchildren. First come the build-up and the preparations—‘just a few sleeps to go’—and then the day itself: the food, the cake, the games, and, of course, lots of friends.

Jesus once said that no-one may enter the kingdom of God unless they are born again, of water and the Spirit (John 3:3–7). The bodies we have now cannot enter heaven because we are sinful, and the wages of sin is death! But the free gift of God to us all is eternal life through Jesus Christ, who gives us this rebirth of water and the Spirit (Rom 6:23).

As Lutherans we understand that ‘being born again of water and the Spirit’ is a clear allusion to baptism, where our old sinful nature is put to death and a new person is born. Most of us can say that we were born again from the day of our baptism.

Everyone celebrates birthdays, but not everyone can celebrate ‘rebirthday’. Only Christians can do that!

Last year the Fassifern Parish in south-east Queensland held a

rebirthday celebration across its three congregations. It was a way to reconnect with all people whose names were on the baptismal registers and to affirm them in the significance of their baptism.

So, months before the rebirthday celebrations, out came the record books, as we searched out every person who had been baptised at Harrisville, Kalbar and Boonah in recent years. Personal invitations were sent out. Many people turned up on the day to celebrate the grace of God that brought them new life in his eternal kingdom.

It was a remembrance of what happened on the day of their baptism, as well as a challenge to take the relationship God has established with them a little more seriously. It was a reminder that rebirth into the kingdom of God has a concrete reality in the local congregation, and that baptism brings us into a new, eternal family.

The significance of baptism was spoken about in the children’s address, while the sermon took the format of a 20-minute interactive talk about baptism and what it means in the life of a Christian.

At each service, candles were lit on a rebirthday cake and Happy Rebirthday was sung.

Some of those who came along for the rebirthday celebration have since been worshipping more regularly than they did before.

The day was so successful that the parish has decided to celebrate rebirthdays as an annual event. In addition, ‘Happy Rebirthday’ cards have been printed, and these are posted out on baptismal anniversaries to remind people of their special day.

If we love to celebrate birthdays, then as Christians our rebirthday gives us far more reason to celebrate.

Why not celebrate the day on which your eternal life began. Find out the rebirthday dates of your family and friends and celebrate these too. Encourage those who have been reborn in their baptism to celebrate life in the church with the new family God has established for them.

Happy Rebirthday to you!

Peter Geyer is pastor of the Fassifern Lutheran Parish, Queensland.

We Christians are doubly blessed. We are born not once but twice—and that means two birthdays!

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by Peter Geyer

The Lutheran July 201210 The Lutheran July 201210

MACHINE GUN PREACHERRating: MA15+ Available: DVD / Blu-rayRelease date: Available now

machine gun preacher

Comments on contemporary culture

by Mark Hadley

The Lutheran July 201210

The first child soldier I ever met was somewhere in his 30s. I was working on a documentary in Uganda and we were visiting a World Vision facility, where workers were restoring the lives of those forced to serve in organisations like The Lord’s Resistance Army [LRA].

The returned adults I met revealed a whole other side of this tragedy—decades lost to horrific acts they’d been brainwashed to believe in. I wondered what might have happened if someone had stepped in before those years had been snatched away. Machine Gun Preacher is the story of a man who sought to do just that.

Gerard Butler plays Sam Childers, a man who enters the film sinking in a sea of drugs, robbery and violent crime. His anger overflows on anyone fool enough to get in his way. However, his wife Lynn suffers his rages patiently because she’s discovered a way out of addiction and the sex industry:

Lynn: ‘I ain’t dancing anymore because it ain’t right—in the eyes of God.’

Sam: ‘Oh, you found God now?’

Lynn: ‘He found me … and he’s there for you too, Baby.’

Sam: ‘You’re a junky stripper and that’s all you’ll be.’

But his wife’s transformation earns Sam’s grudging respect, and when he finally hits rock bottom, she’s the one he turns to. Lynn takes him to church, where the Holy Spirit begins a conversion that will culminate in Sam becoming the head of his own construction company and a committed Christian. That combination takes him to Uganda to build houses. However, a side trip to the Sudan reveals the shocking pain caused by the LRA, in particular the crippling, killing and enslaving of children. Childers determines to do everything he can to care for thousands of war orphans, even if it means taking up arms himself.

Machine Gun Preacher is a distressingly honest film, but it deserves the attention of mature Christians. The ravages of the LRA are displayed in a way that will—and should—prove disturbing. Childers is also a man who struggles to find the best way forward, sometimes employing dubious methods, at other times fighting with the very God he hopes to serve. Yet for all that, it perfectly displays the need for every believer to do more than just deal with sin in their own lives. Butler preaches to an American congregation:

‘In your actions you give service to the Lord. He’s not interested in your good intentions, your good thoughts. No, he wants your backs, your hands, your sweat, your blood to pour into the foundation that will build up his kingdom.’

In a recent interview with Adrian Drayton, the real Sam Childers admitted many Christians have criticised the theology behind the film. At times Machine Gun Preacher seems to suggest that social and political goals matter more than the spiritual claims of the gospel, and sin can be employed to end the suffering of others.

However, he says the story is aimed particularly at unbelievers, who need to understand that Jesus is still alive and doing miracles in this world. ‘I don’t want people to think that this movie is about Sam Childers or about rescuing children in Africa’, he says. ‘This movie, after you watch it, is all about you. What are you going to do now?’

Machine Gun Preacher is not a film to be taken lightly; the MA15+ rating is well deserved because the subject matter is serious, worthy of serious consideration. But few stories since The Cross and the Switchblade have so well demonstrated the power of God to change a life or his ability to use it to bring the hope of his kingdom to the most hopeless situations.

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11The Lutheran July 2012

Two books by Linards Jansons

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Even before it opened in 2007, the Creation Museum (Kentucky, USA) was attracting considerable controversy. How could it be that after centuries of advancement in our understanding of geology, palaeontology and biology, the ancient worldview reflected in Genesis was more than ever being promoted as contemporary scientific fact?

What kind of natural history museum teaches that the world began a mere 6000 years ago, that dinosaur and human cavorted happily together, and that fossils date from no later than the biblical flood? Naturally enough, protests arose from scientific communities far and wide. Many Christians also shared these misgivings, expressing the additional concern that this kind of Bible-based ‘science’ actually undermines a faithful reading of Scripture for today.

But despite the fact that many Christians and churches are incorporating the insights of contemporary science into their faith, the new atheists still regard the Creation

Museum as typical of religion’s hostility, or at least suspicion, towards scientific inquiry. Science—the systematic study of the natural world through observation, experiment and measurement—forms a central platform of their claim that religion is not merely delusional, but even harmful. And standing in the centre of this platform is the biologist, science-writer and atheist banner-bearer, Richard Dawkins.

The case from science

Although Dawkins had long portrayed science and faith as mortal enemies, it was his best-seller, The God Delusion, that thrust this antithesis into the public spotlight. In short: science is based on evidence, and gives us certainty about the way things are; religion, by contrast, replaces objective inquiry with blind faith, dogmatism and superstition.

If this doesn’t quite sound like the Christian faith you know and live, you’re not alone. Even those without religious commitments have observed that The God Delusion sets up a knock-down version of the faith, and that Dawkins’

Does the teaching of nature inherently conflict with the teaching of Scripture? Or have we needlessly set God’s two books against each other?

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