I've had conversations with people who tell me, quite confidently, "I don't believe the Bible."
My first response is usually a simple question. "Have you read it for yourself?"
Surprisingly often, the answer is no. Tthat makes me curious; if you haven't read it, how have you decided what you believe, or don't believe, about what it says?
Perhaps you've heard someone preach about it. Maybe you've listened to someone criticize it. You may have encountered a few verses that made you uncomfortable, or you've formed an opinion based on what others have told you.
Here's my next question. Do you drive a vehicle?
Think about how you learned. Did you simply listen to someone describe driving, climb into a vehicle, and declare yourself an experienced driver? Of course not. You had to learn the rules of the road. You had to understand the signs, practice controlling the vehicle, learn how to respond to unexpected situations, and demonstrate that you could apply what you'd learned. Even after receiving your driver's license, you continued learning. Experience developed your judgment. Practice improved your abilities. Sometimes mistakes taught you lessons you hadn't understood before. So why would we approach something as significant as the Bible with less willingness to learn?
There's a difference between hearing about something, understanding it, and experiencing it for yourself. Someone can describe what it's like to drive through the mountains, but that description isn't the same as navigating the winding roads yourself. Likewise, someone can tell you what the Bible teaches, but their explanation isn't a substitute for reading it and examining its message. Not everyone who quotes Scripture understands its context. Not everyone who teaches it interprets it correctly. Not everyone who criticizes it has examined the passages they're criticizing.
That includes Christians. That includes me. We, too, have a responsibility to examine what we're taught rather than simply accepting every interpretation we hear. Which brings me to an interesting comparison: secondhand shopping.
There's nothing inherently wrong with something secondhand. In fact, some of our greatest treasures may have belonged to someone else first. I recently bought a lovely resin alligator, because it appealed to me and my sense of humor. When we acquire something secondhand, we don't necessarily know its history, how it was used, or whether something important is missing.
The same can happen with our understanding of Scripture. We inherit opinions, interpretations, traditions, and assumptions from people who have influenced our lives. Some of those things are valuable and worth preserving. Others may need closer examination.
There's nothing wrong with receiving something secondhand. The problem comes when we never make it our own. You don't have to agree with everything you read to examine it fairly; but shouldn't our conclusions be informed by what we've actually investigated?
That question applies just as much to those of us who say we believe the Bible as it does to those who dismiss it.
Perhaps you grew up in a Christian home. Your parents took you to church, taught you to pray, and introduced you to the Bible. What a wonderful foundation. However, there's an important distinction between inheriting a tradition and developing a relationship.
You can inherit your grandmother's Bible, but you cannot inherit her relationship with God. You can remember your father's prayers, but you cannot rely on his prayers as a substitute for developing your own prayer life. You can attend the same church your family has attended for generations, but familiarity with church life is not necessarily the same as spiritual maturity. Faith may be introduced to us through others, but it must become personal if it is to grow.
In 2 Timothy 1:5, Paul speaks of the sincere faith that first lived in Timothy's grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice, and that now lived in Timothy himself. What a beautiful picture of spiritual influence across generations. Timothy benefited from the faith of those who came before him, but their relationship with God did not replace his own. Later, in 2 Timothy 3:14–15, Paul encourages Timothy to continue in what he has learned, remembering both those who taught him and the Scriptures he had known since childhood. His spiritual heritage was a foundation for personal growth, not a substitute for it.
So that brings us back to learning to drive. Your parents can teach you the rules of the road. They can give you their old car. They can share the wisdom of decades behind the wheel, but they cannot give you their driving experience.
Someone else can hand you the keys. Eventually, you have to get behind the wheel.
Now let's turn that same question around. What about those of us who profess to believe the Bible? We've read the manual. We know the rules. We may even be able to quote them from memory, but are we practicing what we've learned?
Imagine someone who proudly announces that they've had a driver's license for thirty years, yet still refuses to obey traffic signs, ignores the rules of the road, and insists there's nothing more they need to learn. We'd probably wonder whether their confidence had outgrown their competence.
Could something similar happen in our spiritual lives? We attend church, listen to sermons, participate in Bible studies, and perhaps know familiar passages by heart. But familiarity isn't necessarily growth. It's possible to know what Scripture says about forgiveness and still refuse to forgive. To know what it teaches about loving our neighbors and yet consistently overlook the people who need our compassion. To speak about trusting God while insisting on controlling every detail of our lives. I include myself in that examination. Knowing what God asks of us and consistently living it are not always the same thing.
There's a difference between being spiritually immature because we're still learning and remaining spiritually immature because we've stopped learning. One is a natural part of growth. The other invites us to examine whether we've become complacent.
James writes: "But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves." — James 1:22 (ESV)
James doesn't dismiss the importance of hearing God's Word. He challenges us not to stop there. Hearing is important. Understanding is important. But what we learn is meant to influence how we live. A person learning to drive doesn't become more skilled simply by sitting in the driveway with the engine running. Eventually, they have to move. They have to navigate unfamiliar roads, respond to unexpected conditions, and learn from experience.
Our spiritual lives also present opportunities to put what we've learned into practice. We learn patience when circumstances require us to wait. We learn forgiveness when we've been hurt. We learn generosity when we're presented with an opportunity to give. We learn trust when the road ahead isn't clear. Sometimes we discover that what we thought we understood in theory becomes much more challenging in practice.
That's where growth can happen. Not because we perform perfectly, but because we're willing to keep learning, responding, and allowing God to transform us.
Hebrews 5:12–14 offers another thought-provoking perspective. The writer addresses believers who, despite having had time to grow, still need elementary instruction. He contrasts spiritual infancy with maturity and describes mature discernment as something developed through practice. The passage isn't asking believers to pretend they've mastered everything. It's challenging them to continue growing.
That's a question worth asking ourselves: have I become so comfortable with the identity of being a Christian that I've stopped considering what following Christ asks of me?
Even experienced drivers make mistakes. They miss turns. They misjudge distances. They encounter road conditions they weren't prepared for.
The answer isn't to stop driving forever. It's to recognize what happened, make the necessary adjustments, and continue.
The Christian life isn't a demonstration of flawless performance, either. There are seasons when our faith feels strong and others when we're struggling simply to take the next step. Growth doesn't always look dramatic. Sometimes it's a quieter response, a softened heart, an act of obedience nobody else sees, or a willingness to begin again. Sometimes growth happens in seasons of waiting or rest, when there appears to be very little outward movement at all.
Faith is not something we manufacture through our own effort, nor is God's love something we earn through spiritual accomplishments. We are saved by grace through faith, not by our works (Ephesians 2:8–9). The following verse reminds us that we are created in Christ Jesus for good works (Ephesians 2:10). Our actions don't purchase God's grace. They are part of our response to it.
The question isn't whether we've mastered everything Scripture teaches. It's whether we're still willing to be taught.
When Nathanael questioned whether anything good could come from Nazareth, Philip responded with a simple invitation: "Come and see." John 1:46 (ESV)
I love that response. It wasn't an argument demanding immediate agreement. It was an invitation to discover something firsthand. I believe that invitation has something to say to both audiences.
To the person who dismisses the Bible without having read it: Come and see. Explore it. Ask questions. Examine its message for yourself rather than relying entirely on what others say about it.
To the Christian who has grown comfortable simply knowing what the Bible says: Come and see what happens when you put it into practice. Not as a way to earn God's love, but as a response to the love and grace we've already received.
Learning to drive was never about collecting a license to hang on the wall. It was about learning how to travel the road. Receiving Christ as your Savior, isn’t about hanging a cross on the wall, it’s about learning why that cross is empty.
Our relationship with Scripture deserves that same commitment to learning, practicing, and growing. Don't simply take someone else's word for what the Bible says. Read it for yourself. Don't rely solely on the faith of those who came before you. Cultivate your own relationship with God. If you profess to believe His Word, don't stop at knowing the words; allow them to shape the way you live.
Someone else's faith can introduce you to God's Word, but it cannot develop your relationship with Him for you.
The invitation is still open. Come and see; then keep going.
