I’ve lost count of the times I’ve been accused of not believing the Bible, simply because I care about how it’s read.
All it takes is suggesting that a verse might need to be understood in its literary or historical context, or that a passage might not mean what it’s often been assumed to mean, and suddenly I’m suspect. There’s an edge in the response, sometimes even a veiled threat: “You’re on dangerous ground.”
But I don’t think it’s dangerous to ask questions. I think it’s dangerous not to.

I believe scripture is sacred. That’s exactly why I resist treating it like a grab bag of slogans or proof-texts. That kind of use doesn’t reflect reverence, it reflects coercion and control. And I want to be someone who places myself under the word of God, not someone who uses it to shield my assumptions or win arguments.
I’ve never found the contextual reading of scripture to diminish its authority. If anything, it expands it, drawing me deeper into the story God is telling, revealing the living Word more clearly in all his disruptive grace.
When we pay attention to genre, audience, historical setting, or canonical flow, we’re not trying to “explain away” the text. We’re trying to hear it. And that means being willing to let scripture challenge not just our behavior, but our interpretations, especially the ones we’ve grown comfortable with.
I’ve come to believe that misreading the Bible is one of the most dangerous forms of disobedience. Because it’s easy to justify almost anything when you’ve got a verse in your corner. That’s how power gets cloaked in piety. That’s how whole systems of abuse survive—with a Bible verse pinned to their walls.
So no, I won’t apologize for taking context seriously. I take it seriously because I take scripture seriously. I want to know what the Spirit is actually saying, not just what I or my tribe want to hear.
And if someone tells me I have a “low view” of scripture for doing that, I’ll simply ask: Is it really low to seek truth, even when it complicates our certainties? Is it really faithful to keep using verses in ways that flatten the gospel or silence the oppressed?
To me, reverence means reading slowly. Humbly. Open to correction. Willing to say, “Maybe I haven’t heard this rightly.” That’s not weakness, it’s worship.







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