How (Not) To Read the Bible: Seeing the Story Beneath the Surface

Office FaithCC
Apr 29
4 min read

Have you ever opened the Bible, read a few lines, and thought, What in the world is this saying?

You’re not alone.

At first glance, the Bible can seem chaotic. Strange laws about mildew. Talking animals. Commands that, out of context, feel harsh or bizarre. If you've ever felt disoriented, confused, or even a little uncomfortable reading Scripture—you’re right where so many people start.

But here’s the good news: confusion doesn’t have to be the end of the story. It can be the beginning of something better.

It’s Not Just a Book. It’s a Library.

One of the biggest mistakes people make is treating the Bible like one flat book—as if every verse should sound exactly the same, mean exactly the same, or apply in exactly the same way.

But the Bible isn’t one book. It’s a divine library—sixty-six books written over fifteen hundred years, by more than forty different authors, on three different continents, in three different languages.

Just like you wouldn’t read poetry the same way you read a courtroom transcript, you don’t read Psalms the same way you read Leviticus. You don’t treat a parable like a promise, or a vision like a proverb.

Genre matters. Context matters. Story matters.

Psalm 42 says, "My tears have been my food day and night" (NIV).

That’s not doctrinal instruction—it’s poetry. It’s the raw cry of a heart swimming in sorrow.

Compare that to Leviticus' regulations about sacrifice, or Mark’s rapid-fire action scenes, or Revelation’s dragons and lampstands—and you quickly realize: God’s Word is rich, layered, and incredibly alive.

When we recognize that the Bible is a library—not a rulebook or a highlight reel—we start to hear God's voice more clearly, not less.

"The Bible is not one voice speaking in one tone at one time. It is a symphony—a library of God’s dealings with humanity, all leading to the Savior."

Written For Us, But Not To Us

Another key to reading Scripture faithfully is realizing: the Bible wasn’t written to us—it was written for us.

Every verse is true. Every passage has purpose. But none of it was penned in our language, in our culture, or in our current moment. It was written to real people, facing real struggles, in real history.

When God gave laws about sacrifices, He wasn’t speaking to suburban Christians in 2025. He was speaking to a newly rescued nation learning how to live in covenant with a holy God.

When Paul asked Timothy to bring his cloak from Troas, that wasn’t a hidden command for us—it was a personal note in a letter to a young pastor under pressure.

Understanding the "who" and "when" of Scripture doesn’t distance us from it—it invites us into it more deeply.

And it protects us from twisting verses out of shape.

Jeremiah 29:11 ("For I know the plans I have for you…") isn’t a quick promise that life will go smoothly. It was a word of hope given to a people facing 70 years of exile. The hope was real—but it required patience, endurance, and faith in a God who keeps His word even when the road is long.

"The Bible’s promises are better than magic formulas—they are anchors forged in real history, rooted in real suffering, and fulfilled in real hope."

Never Read Just a Verse

If genre and audience matter, so does something even simpler: never read a Bible verse in isolation.

Without context, you can make the Bible say almost anything.

Pull Psalm 137:9 by itself—"Blessed is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks"—and it sounds like pure violence. But read the whole psalm, and you find survivors of Babylon’s brutal conquest pouring out their grief and longing for justice. It’s not a command to obey. It’s a lament to bring before God.

Or take Philippians 4:13—"I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

"That verse isn’t about winning championships or landing promotions. Paul wrote it from a prison cell, celebrating not triumph over circumstances—but endurance through them.

When you read Scripture in context, you don’t just protect its meaning—you discover its beauty.

"Context isn’t just about accuracy—it’s about wonder. It’s where the verses come alive and start to sing."

Jesus at the Center

Above all else, the Bible only truly makes sense when you see Jesus at the center.

After the resurrection, Jesus walked alongside two discouraged disciples on the road to Emmaus. Instead of revealing Himself immediately, He opened the Scriptures—"beginning with Moses and all the Prophets"—and showed them how everything pointed to Him (Luke 24:27).

From Genesis to Revelation, the whole story is moving toward Jesus.

In Genesis, He’s the offspring who will crush the serpent’s head.
In Exodus, the true Passover Lamb.
In Psalms, the suffering King.
In Isaiah, the pierced and risen Servant.
And in the Gospels—the Word made flesh, the fulfillment of every longing.

If you read the Bible without Jesus at the center, you’ll either moralize it ("Try harder, be better!") or misunderstand it ("This doesn’t make any sense!").

But when you see Jesus—suddenly, the scattered dots connect. The strange verses find their place. The laws, the sacrifices, the kings, the prophets—they all whisper His name.

"The Bible isn’t first about what we must do for God. It’s about what God has done for us—through Jesus Christ."

Where to Begin

So how do you start reading the Bible with fresh eyes?

Slow down. Resist the urge to rush through passages or pluck out feel-good slogans.
Ask better questions. "Who was this written to?" "What’s the genre?" "What’s the story around it?"
Stay curious. Let the weirdness push you deeper—not drive you away.
Keep Jesus in sight. Every part of Scripture either points to our need for Him—or reveals what He’s done for us.

And when you stumble across a hard verse, or a confusing command, or a story that makes you wonder—don't walk away.

Zoom out.