The Forgotten Doctrine
The man or woman who does not read the scripture stands at a peculiar disadvantage before God, not because God withholds His grace, but because such a person refuses the most elementary means by which grace is understood, remembered, and applied. Reading is not ornamental to the Christian life; it is foundational. It is the act by which we hold God’s written word before our minds, examine it, let it examine us, and permit it to reshape our thinking and living.
This is precisely what the Apostle Paul commanded Timothy, a young brother destined for bishoprick: “Till I come, give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine” (1 Timothy 4:13). The prescription is plain. Before Timothy could exhort others or guard doctrine, he was to read. Not casually. Not occasionally. But with deliberate, sustained attention.
The Question That Cuts to the Heart
Consider how our Lord Jesus repeatedly addressed the religious authorities of His day with a question that must have stung like a whip: “Have ye not read?“
This was not a gentle inquiry into their literary habits. It was an accusation wrapped in the form of a question, and far more devastating for that reason. When the Pharisees challenged Him regarding the plucking of grain on the Sabbath, He did not lecture them on mercy. Instead: “But he said unto them, Have ye not read what David did, when he was an hungred, and they that were with him?” (Matthew 12:3).
When they questioned His authority in the temple, He asked: “Did ye never read in the scriptures, The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner: this is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes?” (Matthew 21:42).
The pattern repeats itself with devastating consistency. “Have ye not read in the law, how that on the sabbath days the priests in the temple profane the sabbath, and are blameless?” (Matthew 12:5). “Have ye not read, that he which made them at the beginning made them male and female?” (Matthew 19:4). “Have ye not read so much as this, what David did, when himself was an hungred?” (Luke 6:3).
One begins to perceive the method in our Lord’s madness. He was not simply correcting their interpretations. He was exposing the root cause of their error: they had not read. Their ignorance was not innocent; it was culpable. They possessed scripture in their synagogues, yet their minds had not truly grappled with it. They could cite texts, perhaps, but they had not read in the sense that reading demands, with attention, with humility, with a willingness to be corrected.
It is a sobering realization that the same indictment might be leveled at many who call themselves believers in our own age.
The Three Dimensions of Biblical Reading
First: Reading as the Foundation of Understanding
There is an irony, perhaps even a cruelty, in having access to the complete written word of God and choosing not to read it. Consider the Ethiopian eunuch, traveling in his chariot through the desert, who “was returning, and sitting in his chariot read Esaias the prophet” (Acts 8:28). Philip, that faithful brother, heard him reading and asked the crucial question: “Underestimate thou what thou readest?” (Acts 8:30).
This is the pattern. One must first read before one can understand. The scripture will not yield its treasures to the passive observer. It demands engagement. It requires that we sit with it, as the eunuch sat in his chariot, and let the words form in our minds. Only then can the Spirit of God press their meaning into our understanding.
Paul wrote to the Ephesians with this very concern: “Whereby, when ye read, ye may understand my knowledge in the mystery of Christ” (Ephesians 3:4). The reading itself is the gateway to understanding. Skip the reading, and the mystery remains sealed.
This is why the synagogue practice was so vital. “For Moses of old time hath in every city them that preach him, being read in the synagogues every sabbath day” (Acts 15:21). Week after week, the people gathered to hear the word read aloud, to have it sounded in their ears, to let it take root in their minds through the discipline of regular, corporate reading. Understanding follows upon reading as surely as the shadow follows the object in the sun.
Second: Reading as the Means of Transformation
But understanding alone is insufficient. The word that is simply understood becomes a matter of intellectual assent, and assent, without application, produces nothing but the sterile satisfaction of having acquired information.
Paul recognized this and insisted that reading must penetrate beyond the intellect into the very constitution of the believer. When he wrote to the Colossians, he gave a command that reveals reading’s purpose: “And when this epistle is read among you, cause that it be read also in the church of the Laodiceans; and that ye likewise read the epistle from Laodicea” (Colossians 4:16). The epistles were not philosophical treatises to be debated. They were apostolic instructions meant to be read and acted upon.
Consider the remarkable statement regarding the Corinthian believers: “Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men” (2 Corinthians 3:2). Here Paul reverses the expected metaphor. The Corinthians themselves had become a living text, readable by all who observed their conduct. But how had this transformation occurred? Through their engagement with the apostolic writings. Reading had not only informed them; it had reformed them. They had been read by the word, and the word had written itself upon their hearts.
This is the promise and the peril of reading. It is a transformative act. Approached rightly, with openness, with submission, with a genuine desire to be changed, it remakes us. The man who reads scripture and does not expect to be transformed by it is a fool; he has simply wasted his time and insulted his God.
Third: Reading as the Discipline of Obedience
Finally, reading is an act of obedience. This may seem obvious, yet it is widely ignored.
When Paul charged the Thessalonians, he did not phrase it as a suggestion: “I charge you by the Lord that this epistle be read unto all the holy brethren” (1 Thessalonians 5:27). This was not a polite recommendation. It was a command, sworn under the authority of the Lord Himself. The epistle was to be read, and read among all the brethren, not only discussed by the educated few or retained in the hands of church leaders.
Timothy was commanded to “give attendance to reading” (1 Timothy 4:13), not to give it occasional notice, but to attend to it with the full weight of his effort and intention. This is dedication, it’s devoted service. One gives attendance to reading in the same manner one gives attendance to prayer, to worship, to the work of the ministry itself.
Here is where the modern believer must pause and ask himself a hard question: Do I read scripture with this sense of duty? Or do I approach it, if I approach it at all, with the attitude of a man sampling dessert, expecting immediate gratification, ready to set it aside if it does not please my palate?
The disciples of Jesus, when He appeared to them after His resurrection, were slow to believe. Luke tells us that “he said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me” (Luke 24:44). He directed them not to new revelation, but to the reading of scripture already written. Understanding would come through their careful attention to what had already been given.
The Irony We Must Face
There is a particular irony that ought to kindle some honest shame in the contemporary church. We live in an age of unprecedented access to scripture. The Bible is available, in digital form, in audio format. Children carry entire libraries in their pockets. Yet, by virtually every measure, biblical literacy has declined precipitously.
We have more of God’s word at our fingertips than any generation in human history, and we read less of it. We hear exhortations from the pulpit, but we do not read the text from which the exhortation is drawn. We attend Bible studies where someone else has done the reading and thinking for us, and we contentedly absorb a digested version. Is it any wonder that we are so easily deceived? That false doctrine spreads like wildfire? That the average believer cannot articulate even the most basic tenets of the faith?
The Pharisees at least had the excuse that they lacked the printed word. We have only the excuse of laziness, of distraction, of the insidious belief that someone else’s reading can substitute for our own.
Jesus did not ask the Pharisees, “Have ye not had someone explain the scripture to you?” He asked, “Have ye not read?” There is a rebuke here that will not be escaped by pleasant substitutes.
Read, and Then Read Again
What, then, is the Christian to do?
The answer is deceptively simple, though its application demands genuine commitment. One must read scripture, not as an academic exercise, not as a means of acquiring information for competitive advantage at a dinner party, but as the primary means by which one communes with the living God through His written word.
This reading should be:
Regular. Not occasional. Not when the mood strikes. But with the consistency of daily bread. The Psalmist did not meditate upon the law of God once a year; his meditation was continuous, habitual (Psalm 1:2).
Attentive. Not hurried. Not skimmed while the mind wanders to the day’s cares. But with genuine concentration, prepared for the text to correct, comfort, challenge, and change you.
Expectant. Not approaching scripture as you would approach a newspaper, searching for information about external events. But as one who expects to meet the God who speaks through His word, who anticipates that the Spirit will press truth into your soul, who opens the text believing that it will speak directly to your condition.
Submissive. Not reading in order to argue, to pick and choose, to accommodate the text to your preferences. But with the humility to be wrong, to be corrected, to have your opinions revised and your practices reformed by what you discover in the text.
Communal. Not only private reading, though that is essential, but also the reading of scripture in the congregation, where the word is heard together, where believers are reminded that they are not isolated interpreters but part of a community of faith stretching back centuries.
And then, having read, one must read again. Not the same chapter in the same way, but with fresh eyes, with new questions, with deepening understanding. The great preachers and theologians of the Christian tradition were not such because they read scripture once. They were such because they spent lifetimes reading, re-reading, wrestling with, meditating upon the text.
A Word of Grace
Yet lest this sound like simple exhortation, like one more burden to bear, let it be said plainly: the reading of scripture is not a burden at all. It is a privilege beyond measure.
When the believer opens the Bible, he is not performing a chore. He is accepting an invitation to the most intimate communion available to man, conversation with his God through the very words that the Spirit of God has preserved and given. To read scripture is to sit at the feet of wisdom incarnate, to hear the voice of the God who loves him, to discover resources for living that no earthly counselor could provide.
“For we write none other things unto you, than what ye read or acknowledge; and I trust ye shall acknowledge even to the end” (2 Corinthians 1:13), Paul assured the Corinthians. What a confidence! The apostle was writing to them material that, when they read it, would confirm what they already knew to be true in their hearts.
This is the great encouragement: scripture is not obscure. Its main doctrines are not hidden. When you read it, truly read it, with attention and openness, the truth will be clear to you. You will recognize it. You will find yourself saying, with the Ethiopian eunuch, “I believe” (Acts 8:30-38).
The Challenge
Therefore, let the question be posed to every believer with the same directness that Jesus posed it to the Pharisees: Have ye not read?
Not: Have you heard someone preach about it?
Not: Have you read about the Bible in some other book?
Not: Do you own a Bible?
But: Have you actually read it?
If not, why not? And more importantly, what will you do about it?
The invitation stands open. The word waits. And every time you open that book and read, you will discover anew what countless saints have discovered before you: that the word of God is not simply ancient text, but living voice. It speaks. It corrects. It comforts. It transforms.
All you must do is read.
And then read again.
Pastor Thomas Irvin
George County Baptist Churc
Lucedale, Mississippi
