Buckle up for the first of a few exciting adventures into Adventist theology, We’re starting with a bang:
The Bible.
In order to understand and appreciate what the Bible is, we ought to also understand what it is not. The Bible is not a single piece of work. It’s a collection of different kinds of writing— like poems, stories, laws, and letters, each of which is rooted in the unique cultures and historical periods of their authors. The Bible is not a manual that dictates a one size fits all approach to spirituality; it didn’t work for leggings and it doesn’t work for this Blessed Bestseller either. The variety really showcases the creativity and insight of these writers and their worldviews. And because the Bible has so many different genres and authors it naturally becomes a dynamic text, meaning every person who reads it, might see and interpret it through their own unique life experience lens.
The Bible is not a precise plan with every detail accounted for. This idea of the Bible contrasts sharply with infallibility—the belief that Scriptures are completely true and without error, inspired or directly authored by God. After all, if these stories aren’t from God, how can we trust them when they include tales of a talking snake tempting Eve, Noah fitting two of every animal onto a single boat, and Jonah surviving three days in the belly of a whale? Even the esteemed Ellen White dealt with the issue of errors when she wanted to edit her earlier works. She concluded that God uses the best he has to work with. Which in this case meant people who regularly practiced bloodletting, letting you bleed out a bit to balance your bodily humors, trepanation, the delightful practice of drilling holes into your skull to release evil spirits, and divination by studying animal insides to predict the future—who needs a crystal ball when you’ve got goat guts? It’s ironic that a community shaped by the 1844 Great Disappointment—an event more or less highlighting the fallibility of strict scriptural interpretations—would continue to uphold such inflexible views. When we recognize our inherent imperfections, how come it doesn’t make us more humble and open to other perspectives, rather than rigid and dogmatic? It makes sense to encourage conversations and exploration of the scriptures, where different viewpoints are respected and even expected.
The Bible is not impervious to the evolving insights of the natural world and human understanding. Yet, Adventist doctrines like creation from interpreted from the Genesis account tend to be literal, six thousand year old earth, clashing with the more evidence based approaches found in science. It’s typical for theology to hold to fixed narratives and absolute truths, whereas science is about changing with new findings and understanding the world through questioning. Imagine if we still used horse drawn carriages instead of cars just because that’s how it was done. It’s barbaric to assume we knew everything there is to know before we had computers and carbon dating, and even more alarming still that we are operating using the same system. Computers have revolutionized how we solve problems. Carbon dating has given us the tools to more accurately date artifacts and fossils, painting a clearer picture of Earth’s history and the evolution of life. Sticking to outdated perspectives ignores all the progress and insights we’ve gained. By recognizing the historical context of our beliefs and staying open to new information, we can create a more enlightened understanding that bridges the gap between faith and reason.
Finally, the Bible is not a stone tablet, well except for that part that was, free from translation troubles. The original languages of the Scriptures—Greek and Hebrew—are incredibly rich, carrying words that have layers upon layers of meaning. When we try to translate these into English, a lot gets lost; hence the phrase “translation is treachery.” It’s one of my favorite sayings because it captures how tricky it can be to maintain those minute changes that are so important to understanding and interpreting religious texts. Take the word “shalom,” for example. In English, we simplify it to “peace,” but in Hebrew, it encompasses a profound sense of completeness, wholeness, and well being. It’s not just the absence of conflict; it’s the presence of something better, the restoration of what is broken. Translations can oversimplify and miss the connections and meanings of the original language, and ultimately affect our interpretation and understanding.
With all this in mind, I’m more inclined to see the Bible as a living document—open to interpretation, filled with the human experience, and responsive to new understandings. Think of it as a trampoline: its springs provide the structure, yet each spring can be examined and stretched without compromising the bounce and overall integrity of the whole.
Socrate’s Sieves reimagined to examine the scriptures —
- Is it true? Reflecting on the personal, historical and cultural truths within the context they were written; rather than absolute truths, it’s an ever and ongoing investigation.
- Is it kind? Considering how the interpretation of a passage affects others and striving to find meanings that promote compassion and empathy.
- Is it useful? Evaluating how a scriptural insight can be applied constructively in today’s enhanced scientific and technological age.
This leads me to appreciate the beauty of the Bible not as a rulebook nor a manual on metaphysics, but as a source of spiritual wisdom, creative inspiration, and historical insight. My experience is then an intellectual and spiritual journey, one that respects its sacredness while also emphasizing the ever changing nature of knowledge. This approach aligns with my cosmopolitan views, emphasizing the shared human “we” experience; shying away from societal identities and the us vs. them mentality, embracing instead a universal search for meaning and connection. A flexible approach that is open to various interpretations, encouraging a conversation that hopefully promotes understanding, appreciation and strengthens relationships with people who are different from me.

So, let’s keep bouncing on this trampoline;
the higher we jump, the more we glean.