You Already Know How to Do This

You Already Know How to Do This

Part One:

What We’ve Already Rewritten

If you believe the God of the Bible does not support slavery, then you’ve already learned how to reinterpret scripture. You’ve already made peace with the idea that the Bible doesn’t always get it right, that some verses reflect ancient cultures more than divine character. And you were right to do it.

Because here’s something we don’t talk about enough: not all scripture speaks from the same level of connection. In the Old Testament, God spoke through prophets to people who barely knew how to hear. The communication was filtered, partial, and shaped by human limits. By the time Christ arrives, the access changes. Now the message is embodied. The Word becomes flesh. And when the Holy Spirit is poured out, it speaks within us, not just through laws carved in stone.

God didn’t change. But the connection did.

In the Old Testament, there was no direct line. God spoke through messengers, miracles, and law codes, but the reception was cloudy and the understanding incomplete. The people were doing their best to grasp a holy God while shaped by cultures rooted in power, patriarchy, and fear. Then came Jesus. And like the old gospel song says, “Operator, give me Jesus on the line.” That line hadn’t been installed yet. But through Christ’s life, death, resurrection, and the arrival of the Spirit, that connection became personal, immediate, and alive to everyone.

So why are we still treating Leviticus like it has the final word? Why are we reading Paul’s letters without running them through the life and heart of Christ? We’re not under the same covenant. We’re not even operating on the same spiritual bandwidth. You wouldn’t use a rotary phone to stream a video, and you wouldn’t rely on ancient purity codes to override the voice of the Spirit right now, unless you were afraid of what that voice might say.

Here’s the kicker. There are five scattered passages across scripture that reference same-sex intercourse. They are inconsistent, written in different contexts, and framed by concerns that rarely match the relationships we are talking about today. But you know what shows up way more in the Bible? Slavery. The Bible spends more time explaining how to do it than questioning whether it should be done at all. Yet today, nearly every Christian understands slavery as evil. What changed?

We changed.

We had to go back and renegotiate our relationship with the Bible. We had to admit that some things in scripture are more human than divine. And we did all that without walking away from our faith. We stayed. We wrestled. And we chose love.

So if you are one of those people who believes God does not support enslaving human beings, you have already done the hard work. You’ve already adjusted your theology. You’ve already made peace with a God who is bigger than the harshest verses in the text.

The only thing standing in your way now is fear. Fear of changing your worldview. Fear of losing the power or certainty that identity once gave you. Fear of what your church friends will say. Fear of what might happen if you ask too many questions out loud.

But the Bible is not the thing stopping you. God is not the thing stopping you.

Part Two:

What We Keep and Why We Keep It

Let’s be real. It’s not just fear. It’s also convenience. Because we already pick and choose what parts of scripture we treat as sacred. We just don’t admit it.

Even the New Testament reflects human limits. The apostle Paul, as inspired and devoted as he was, still wrote from a specific cultural lens. He was a dogmatically celibate man who thought marriage was only for people who couldn’t handle celibacy. He believed sex should be rare, passionless, and mostly for self-control. Not because of holiness or procreation, but because of Greek philosophy that saw sexual desire as something base and unspiritual. Paul didn’t think passion belonged in a Christian marriage. He thought desire was for Gentiles who didn’t know God. He expected Jesus to return soon, so building families or futures wasn’t even on his mind.

And let’s be honest. Most Christians today completely ignore Paul’s actual sexual ethic. We don’t teach that everyone should stay celibate. We don’t forbid passion in marriage. We don’t think sexual desire is inherently shameful. We’ve already rejected most of what Paul said. Not because we don’t respect him, but because we recognize that some of his views are rooted in a time and philosophy that no longer speaks to our reality.

What we’ve held onto — things like abstinence before marriage and condemnation of same-sex relationships — is not about fidelity to scripture. It’s about usefulness. Those ideas function as religious identity markers. They help define who's in and who's out. They help communities reinforce boundaries. They give people a quick way to feel righteous and aligned with tradition without asking whether those boundaries reflect love or truth.

That’s not biblical faithfulness. That’s institutional self-preservation.

And there will come a time when even those last few pieces are let go. Not because culture forced it, but because conscience did. Because the damage they do to real people’s lives, mental health, and sense of belonging finally becomes undeniable. Because enough of us will decide that the harm outweighs the control. That exclusion no longer serves the church or the Spirit.

So, let’s stop pretending that holding on to these verses is about honoring God. What we’re really honoring is fear and convenience. What we’re really doing is buying time at the cost of someone else’s life.

Jesus the Carpenter

Maybe this is what Jesus was trying to show us all along. He came as a carpenter, not a stonecutter. He didn’t come to chisel truth into immovable blocks. He came to build.

A carpenter works with what is available. Pieces of wood, some bent, some broken, some miscut. He sands them. Joins them. Pulls them apart and tries again when needed. A carpenter knows that what you build today may need repair tomorrow. He doesn’t panic when the pieces shift or crack. He works with the grain. He adjusts. He retools. He rebuilds.

Scripture is not granite. It’s timber. God has always been in the work of shaping, repurposing, and rebuilding. And if Jesus built tables, maybe he’s still inviting us to sit at them. Not to argue over whose seat is more holy, but to recognize that every part has its place, and some of the best parts started out needing more sanding.

Maybe it’s time to stop being afraid of taking things apart. If it doesn’t serve love, it was never going to last anyway.

The Spirit Is Still Speaking

God is not afraid of your questions. The Spirit is not offended by your growth. Jesus never asked for loyalty to a system. He asked for love.

You already know how to do this. You’ve done it before. The tools are in your hands. The Spirit is still speaking. The question is whether you will listen.