The innate problem with holy books is that they are artifacts of human inspiration searching for solace in imposed order. The true words of the Divine are written in the changing shapes of the mountains and in the currents of the seas.  When humans learned to read their own letters, they forgot how to read the holy language. But the animals know.

The beasts walk the paths of "Thou shalt kill no more than thou needst to eat" every day of their lives, and each year the birds sing hymns as they migrate across the text of the world.

Hallelujah.