The Bible Isn’t the Point (But You Can’t Get There Without It)

There’s a story near the end of Luke’s gospel that doesn’t get enough attention.

Two disciples are walking away from Jerusalem, heading toward a village called Emmaus. They’ve just watched Jesus be crucified. Their hope is gone. And as they walk, talking through everything that happened, a stranger falls into step beside them.

The stranger asks what they’re discussing. They stop, looking at him with disbelief. He’s the only person in Jerusalem who doesn’t seem to know what happened. So they explain everything: the miracles, the arrest, the cross. And then the stranger opens his mouth and takes them through the entire Hebrew scriptures, showing them how it all pointed to this moment.

It’s what I can only imagine was the greatest Bible study ever given. And it has everything to do with how we read scripture today.

God Has Always Been Trying to Be Known

The story of the Bible is the story of God pursuing his creation.

It starts in Genesis, where God doesn’t snap creation into existence or simply will it to be. He speaks. “Let there be light.” That’s not a small detail. Actions can reveal that something exists, but words reveal what someone wants. God speaks because he wants to be known.

When Adam and Eve hide after the fall, what does God do? He calls out to them. “Where are you?” Even after the first rupture in the relationship, God is looking for his people with his words.

That impulse doesn’t stop. The first time the Bible mentions itself is in Exodus 17, when God tells Moses to write down what’s happened so that future generations won’t forget. God’s spoken word becomes a written word, preserved across time so that people who weren’t there could still know the story they were living inside.

Moses receives all of this, leads his people through the wilderness, and then asks for something more. “Show me your glory.” He’s heard God’s voice. He has the written law. But there’s something he’s still after: encounter with God himself.

God tells him no one can see his face and live. But Moses’ longing points to something real. Knowing what God says is not the same as knowing God.

The Word Became a Person

The Gospel of John opens with language that would have stopped both Greek and Jewish readers in their tracks.

For Greeks, the word logos meant reason itself, the organizing principle of the universe, the logic behind all of reality. For Jews, John’s opening lines echoed Genesis: “In the beginning, God created…” and now “In the beginning was the Word.”

John is doing something remarkable here. He’s saying: that thing the Greeks called logos, the ultimate logic behind the cosmos? It’s not an idea. It’s a person. And the Word that spoke creation into existence, that called out to Adam in the garden, that thundered on Sinai, that has been pursuing humanity since the beginning? That Word became flesh.

Jesus is God’s fullest self-revelation. Not a book. Not a set of rules. A person.

The author of Hebrews says it plainly: in the past, God spoke through the prophets in many ways, but in these last days he has spoken through his Son. The same Word that was present at creation is now walking around in sandals, eating fish, asking questions, touching lepers.

So what does that mean for how we read the Bible?

The Bible Points Beyond Itself

Jesus, still walking with the two disciples on the Emmaus road, shows them how every thread of scripture points to him. But then, when they reach the village, he keeps walking. He doesn’t force himself through their door.

That’s not an accident. God wants to be sought. He’s always wanted that. He doesn’t force himself on us, even in scripture. The Bible is an invitation, not a guarantee.

Jesus confronted the Pharisees about exactly this. They had the scriptures memorized. They had built their entire lives around the written word. And they completely missed Jesus standing in front of them. You can know the Bible inside and out and still miss the whole point.

The point is encounter. The point is meeting the Author behind the words.

Whatever you come to the Bible looking for, you’ll probably find it. Rules. Validation. Ammunition. The Bible has been twisted and weaponized throughout history by people who came to it looking for something other than Jesus.

But if you come to it wanting to meet Jesus, that’s what it’s built for. That’s what it’s always been built for.

Back in Emmaus, the two disciples invite the stranger in. He breaks bread with them. And suddenly they recognize who he is. They turn to each other and say, “Weren’t our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road?”

That’s the invitation. Not just to read the Bible, but to let it lead you somewhere. To let it lead you to someone. Burning hearts. That’s what’s waiting on the other side of the words, if you’re willing to look for more than information.

Have you encountered Jesus? Or have you just been reading about him?