Restoring Apostolic Faith

Let’s be honest for a moment.

Sometimes reading the Bible feels like trying to assemble IKEA furniture with half the instructions missing, three metaphors instead of measurements, and a note at the bottom that says, “You should already know how this works.”

And the worst part is—it’s not actually unclear to the people it was written for.

The frustration most modern readers feel isn’t because Scripture is vague.

It’s because Scripture assumes a shared world, not a shared language.

The Bible Was Written to Insiders, Not Future Readers

The biblical authors did not imagine:

• English translations

• Systematic theology textbooks

• Verse-by-verse debates on social media

• Or readers two millennia removed from Temple Judaism

They wrote to communities who already shared:

• Covenant categories

• Narrative memory

• Cultural shorthand

• Assumptions about agency, authority, and representation

So when Scripture says things like:

• “No one has seen God”

• “They saw the God of Israel”

• “The Word became flesh”

• “God dwelt among us”

…the original audience didn’t panic.

They didn’t cry “contradiction.”

They didn’t reach for metaphysical flowcharts.

They didn’t ask whether God changed His ontology in between chapters.

They understood how language works inside a living tradition.

Scripture Communicates Economically, Not Exhaustively

Modern readers want Scripture to:

• Define terms before using them

• Resolve every tension explicitly

• Explain what it does not mean

• Anticipate every possible misunderstanding

Ancient writers did none of that.

They wrote economically.

They layered meaning.

They trusted their hearers to track themes across time.

Tension wasn’t a bug—it was a feature.

Hebrew and Greek thought are perfectly comfortable saying:

God cannot be seen

God was truly encountered

and expecting the reader to hold both together without flattening either.

English, however, hates that.

So we smooth.

We clarify.

We systematize.

And in doing so, we often introduce problems the text never had.

The Real Issue Isn’t Clarity—It’s Distance

The Bible doesn’t usually fail to say what it means.

It fails to say what we want it to say.

We want:

• Philosophical precision

• Ontological definitions

• Modern categories spelled out cleanly

But Scripture is doing something else.

It isn’t trying to tell you what God is in the abstract.

It’s telling you who God has been in covenant, action, and faithfulness.

That’s why revelation in Scripture is:

• Narrative before analytic

• Relational before metaphysical

• Functional before ontological

And yes—that can be maddening.

But it’s also intentional.

Why This Actually Matters

When we demand that the Bible speak like a modern textbook, we usually end up:

• Over-explaining simple things

• Arguing about abstractions the text never foregrounded

• Building doctrines around Scripture instead of from it

A surprising amount of theological controversy exists because later readers tried to resolve what Scripture meant to hold together.

The Bible isn’t sloppy.

It’s ancient.

And ancient texts reward patience more than certainty.

A More Honest Way to Say It

Maybe the better complaint isn’t:

“Why doesn’t the Bible say what it means?”

But:

“Why does the Bible refuse to mean things on my terms?”

That tension is uncomfortable—but it’s also where real understanding starts.

Scripture says what it needs to say for faithfulness and allegiance,

not everything we wish it said for comfort and closure.

And as irritating as that is…

…it’s probably why it still works.