In the 2004 movie I, Robot, (based on the Isaac Asimov series) Will Smith plays a homicide detective in the not-too-distant future where humanoid robots are an everyday part of life. Dr. Alfred Lanning, a leading roboticist, allegedly commits suicide, but leaves behind a holographic recording of himself that specifically requests Smith’s character to investigate what has happened. Smith suspects foul-play and begins to ask the hologram questions. Repeatedly, Lanning tells him, “I’m sorry, my responses are limited. You must ask the right question.”

I don’t know why this scene has lodged itself in my head, but it has, and I think of it often when I come across something puzzling in the Bible. The Bible contains some strange data, no doubt. This previous Sunday, I preached on Saul’s interaction with the witch at En-Dor where she summons Samuel from the dead and has a conversation with him. Any modern person reading this story will have many questions: Can you really communicate with people who have died? How did the witch summon Samuel? I thought mediums were all fake?

Anyone who reads the Bible—especially WEIRD people like us—will quickly find all sorts of oddities that lead them to ask similar questions. We are children of the technological age, so we are obsessed with how questions. How old is Tom Cruise? How big is Jupiter? How do nuclear reactors work? We are so used to being able to have answers in seconds. But our thirst for explanation can move beyond the typical love of wisdom or innocent curiosity to a kind of intellectual gluttony, “always learning but never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth,” (2 Tim 3:7). 

We might even begin to feel entitled to an answer, like there should be no question that exceeds our capabilities—which is really another way of saying that we should be God. But God, in His mercy, has simply made some questions unanswerable (Deut 29:29).

The Right Question

But don’t get me wrong, questions are good! Christianity is a faith that requires mental assent to its doctrines, so we ought to ask questions. But growth in our faith comes from asking the right questions. What are the right questions? There are lots of good questions to ask of a text, but for simplicity’s sake, let me suggest one:

1. What was the author’s intention for writing this?

That’s it! Simple, I know.

We may come to the Bible with many questions, especially when something pops us on the jaw of our values. How could the Bible say that? But before we rush in with our modern ideas of science, sensibilities, and selfhood, we should first ask: 
What point was the author trying to make? 
What mattered to them? 
What do they think the problem is?

For example, when we read Genesis 1-2, we likely have many how questions. How exactly does God create ex nihilo? How can there be light on day one, but the sun not exist till day four? How can we square this with modern understandings of the age of the earth and the theory of evolution? Those are all fascinating questions that are worth considering. But I want to suggest to you that Moses would tell you, “I’m sorry, my responses are limited. You must ask the right questions.”

Now, that isn’t only kind of true. While I know that Moses wasn’t writing the Genesis account to answer Darwin or Dawkins, that doesn’t mean that what he has written doesn’t have something to say about the theory of evolution. But if you approach Genesis 1-2 assuming that the primary point is “Here is why Darwin is wrong,” then you will not only miss the essence of what the author is saying, but you’ll actually warp the entire discipline of Bible reading. You’ll frame all of your reading as a response to the questions you already have, when in reality what you need is to learn to ask different questions, to ask the questions the author intended to answer.

And that requires a lot of humility and patience and a willingness to be the one who yields. He is the potter, we the clay.

Paul didn’t think it was strange to command people to repent of their sins. The author of 1 Samuel didn’t find God’s judgment of the Amalekites bizarre. Jesus didn’t think it necessary to explain why He uses mud and spit to heal a blind man. We find those things strange. And it may be worth it to explore our questions of how and why. That is what good theology is for and how it is synthesized. But we should do that only after asking the right question.

Simple takeaway: When reading the Bible, always ask yourself first what the author’s intention was.