Learning to read the Bible in the light of the times in which it

In a voice both thoughtful and reverent, Adam Hamilton declared, “Learning to read the Bible in the light of the times in which it was written is critical.” His words, though simple, carry the weight of centuries of faith, struggle, and revelation. They are a reminder that sacred texts, like the mountains of the earth, were not formed in a moment—they rose through ages, shaped by the winds of history and the currents of human experience. To understand them, we must see not only the divine voice that speaks through them, but also the human hands that wrote them, trembling beneath the burden of mystery and time.

The origin of this quote lies in Hamilton’s lifelong ministry as a pastor and theologian, one who sought to bridge the ancient and the modern—to make the Scriptures live again in the hearts of those who had grown weary of their mystery. He observed that too often, people read the Bible as if it had descended whole from the heavens, untouched by the world that received it. Yet the truth, as he teaches, is far more profound: it was written in the dust and dawn of human history, by shepherds and prophets, kings and outcasts, each seeing God through the lens of their own age. To read the Bible rightly, therefore, is not to tear it from its roots, but to return it to them—to let its eternal truths shine through the soil of the past.

When Hamilton speaks of reading Scripture “in the light of the times,” he calls us to context, not compromise. He asks us to remember that every word in holy writ was shaped by culture, language, and circumstance. The ancients who wrote of kingdoms and covenants, slavery and salvation, lived in a world very different from ours. Their laws reflected their struggles; their metaphors reflected their world. To see their writings rightly, we must enter their time as travelers, not judges—to walk beside Moses through the wilderness, to listen with Paul amid the bustling streets of Corinth, to kneel in the dust beside Jesus as he wrote words of mercy before a condemned woman. Only then can we glimpse the living truth beneath the surface of the ancient words.

There is a story from the age of the Renaissance, when scholars first began to study Scripture not only as divine revelation but as a historical text. Men like Erasmus of Rotterdam and Martin Luther turned to the original Greek and Hebrew, seeking to free the Bible from the layers of interpretation that had built up over centuries. They did not seek to diminish its holiness but to restore its clarity—to hear it as the first believers heard it. In doing so, they lit a fire that reshaped the faith of nations. Their work embodied Hamilton’s wisdom: that to understand the divine, one must also understand the human vessel through which it spoke.

Hamilton’s teaching also carries a moral truth. When we read sacred words without context, we risk turning revelation into weaponry. Across history, men have used the Bible to justify war, slavery, and oppression—all because they failed to see the difference between eternal principle and cultural expression. But when we read it in its historical light, we find not rigidity, but revelation; not condemnation, but compassion. The God who spoke through ancient tongues continues to speak anew in every generation—but His voice is best heard by those who listen with understanding, not presumption.

To read the Bible in the light of its time is also to read ourselves in the light of our own. Just as the ancients were shaped by their era, so too are we. Our task is not to remake the Scriptures to fit our comfort, but to let their truth illuminate our age in ways that are faithful yet fresh. We must become interpreters who hold in one hand the torch of history, and in the other, the lamp of conscience. In this way, the Bible becomes not a relic to be worshiped from afar, but a living dialogue between the divine and the mortal, between the eternal and the ever-changing.

Let this teaching then be remembered by all seekers of truth: understanding is the highest form of reverence. To study the Bible’s history is not to weaken its divinity, but to witness its miracle—that through flawed, fearful, and finite men, an infinite truth was spoken. To know the times is to know the texture of God’s patience; to grasp the context is to glimpse His wisdom woven through human story.

Therefore, approach Scripture as both scholar and pilgrim. Study its languages, its culture, its history, but do not stop there—let your study lead you to compassion. Read it with humility, knowing that every verse once lived in the breath of men and women who, like you, sought the light in their own darkened age. For in the end, as Adam Hamilton reminds us, the Bible is not only a record of God’s voice in history—it is an invitation to hear that voice anew in the world we now inhabit. And when we learn to read it in its time, we find that it speaks timelessly—to the heart, to the mind, and to the soul of every generation that dares to listen.