Zainab is a nurse at a large hospital in Abuja, and like many people in Nigerian workplaces she has learned to fear one particular kind of envelope. It is the query. It arrives in a brown envelope or as a formal email from management, and it begins with a reference number and the words, “You are hereby requested to explain...” It might concern a late arrival, a missing form, a complaint from a patient’s relative. Whatever it says, it demands a written response within forty-eight hours.
Zainab told me that when a query arrives, she reads it in a particular way. Her heart beats faster. She scans the page for the accusation. She reads it three or four times, looking for hidden threats, wondering what it means for her job, her record and her future. She does not enjoy a single sentence of it.
At home, in a biscuit tin on top of her wardrobe, she keeps a very different collection of letters. When she was in boarding school in Jos, her father, a retired headmaster, wrote to her every fortnight in careful blue handwriting. Every letter began, “My dear daughter Zainab,” and ended, “Your loving Papa.” In between, there was news from home, jokes about her younger brothers, and Bible verses he had copied out for her. There was also, quite often, correction. “Your mother tells me your report says you talk too much in class. You must respect your teachers.” Or, “Why have you not written to your grandmother? She is asking for you.”
She read those letters over and over, sitting on her bunk after lights out. Even the corrections made her smile, because she could hear her father’s voice in them, and she knew why he wrote.
One evening, after a long shift, Zainab was reading her Bible and noticed her heart doing what it did with a query. She was scanning Leviticus for what she had done wrong. She was reading Proverbs with a growing list of charges. She was hunting through the Gospels for the sentence that would finally tell her she had failed. She closed the Bible and sat very still. Then she said, half aloud, “I am reading my Father’s letters as if they were queries.”
Two ways to open the same book
PunchlineThat is the difference this teaching is about. You can open the same Bible, read the same words and come away with completely different experiences, depending on whether you read as a servant or as a son.
The servant reads anxiously. He comes to Scripture the way an employee comes to the staff handbook, looking for the rules he must keep so that he can stay employed. Every command feels like a new requirement. Every warning feels like a threat aimed at him. He is always asking, What must I do? Where have I failed? What will happen to me if I do not measure up? Even the promises feel uncertain, because he is never sure he has qualified for them.
The son reads differently. The words carry exactly the same authority. A son is not free to ignore his father’s instructions. But he hears them within a relationship that has already been settled. He reads to know his Father, to hear His voice, to understand His heart and to learn His ways. When the word corrects him, he receives the correction as coming from someone who loves him.
Jesus drew this distinction on the night before His death. “Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you” (John 15:15). A servant receives instructions. A friend is let into his master’s heart and purposes. And Paul tells every believer, “Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son” (Galatians 4:7). We “have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father” (Romans 8:15).
If that is who you are, then it must shape how you read. You open the Bible as a member of the family, already received. So the question that matters most is simply this: What is my Father saying to me?
Searching the Scriptures and missing the Person
It is possible to read the Bible diligently and miss the whole point. Jesus said so to the most careful Bible readers of His day:
Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me. And ye will not come to me, that ye might have life.
These men knew the Scriptures far better than most of us ever will. Many had memorised large portions. They studied the law with great care and built fences of rules around it to make sure they never broke it. And Jesus told them they had missed the main thing. “They are they which testify of me. And ye will not come to me, that ye might have life.”
They had read the Scriptures as a rulebook and treated the rulebook as the source of life. “In them ye think ye have eternal life.” But the Scriptures were never meant to be an end in themselves. They are a witness that points beyond itself to a Person. John says of his own Gospel, “But these are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name” (John 20:31).
This is the servant’s trap. An anxious reader who is hunting for rules or threats will find plenty of both. The Bible contains a great many commands and serious warnings. But if that is all he sees, he will close the book with a longer list of duties and no nearer to Christ. He has searched the Scriptures and refused to come.
The son reads looking for the Son. In the law he sees the holiness that Christ fulfilled. In the sacrifices he sees the Lamb. In the Psalms he hears the prayers that Christ prayed and the King who reigns. In the prophets he sees the Servant who was wounded for our transgressions. In the Gospels he watches Jesus. In the letters he learns what Christ has done and who he now is in Him. And having found Christ in the page, he comes to Him for life.
The delight of Psalm 119
The longest chapter in the Bible is a love song about God’s word. Psalm 119 has 176 verses, arranged in twenty-two sections, one for each letter of the Hebrew alphabet. It is as if the psalmist wanted to praise God’s word from A to Z. Listen to one section:
O how love I thy law! it is my meditation all the day. Thou through thy commandments hast made me wiser than mine enemies: for they are ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers: for thy testimonies are my meditation. I understand more than the ancients, because I keep thy precepts. I have refrained my feet from every evil way, that I might keep thy word. I have not departed from thy judgments: for thou hast taught me. How sweet are thy words unto my taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth! Through thy precepts I get understanding: therefore I hate every false way.
“O how love I thy law! it is my meditation all the day.” Here is the voice of someone in love. “How sweet are thy words unto my taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!”
The word delight runs all through the psalm. “I will delight myself in thy statutes: I will not forget thy word” (Psalm 119:16). “Thy testimonies also are my delight and my counsellors” (Psalm 119:24). The psalmist rejoiced in God’s testimonies “as much as in all riches” (Psalm 119:14). Jeremiah felt the same: “Thy words were found, and I did eat them; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart: for I am called by thy name, O LORD God of hosts” (Jeremiah 15:16). Notice why Jeremiah rejoiced. For I am called by thy name. He belonged to the God whose words he was eating.
Here is something remarkable. The psalmist wrote this under the old covenant, with the law of Moses in front of him and the full revelation of Christ still centuries away. If he could delight in God’s word with such joy, how much more should we, who read it with the veil removed, the cross behind us, and the Spirit of adoption within us?
This does not mean every reading will feel sweet. The psalmist also wrote, “My soul cleaveth unto the dust” (Psalm 119:25) and “I am afflicted very much” (Psalm 119:107). He brought his troubles to the word, and he did not pretend. But underneath the trouble was delight, because he knew whose word it was.
NuggetA servant reads the Bible to find out whether he can stay. A son reads it to hear his Father’s voice, and even the corrections sound like love.
At His feet
Luke gives us a picture of what it looks like to receive the word as a beloved disciple:
Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.
Martha had welcomed Jesus into her home. That was a good and generous thing to do. But she was “cumbered about much serving,” pulled in every direction by the demands of hospitality. Mary, meanwhile, “sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word.”
In that culture, sitting at a teacher’s feet was the posture of a disciple. Paul described his training by saying he was “brought up in this city at the feet of Gamaliel” (Acts 22:3). Mary had taken that place. Far from being idle, she was listening as one of His students.
Martha’s complaint is revealing: “Lord, dost thou not care?” Her busyness had turned into anxiety, and her anxiety had turned into an accusation against both her sister and her Lord. Jesus answered with great gentleness, saying her name twice: “Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful.”
Many believers read the Bible like Martha. They are busy and anxious, working through a reading plan as if it were a chore list, troubled about many things, afraid of falling behind. The reading becomes another form of service to get through. Jesus does not condemn Martha’s service, and He does not condemn reading plans. But He invites us to the one thing needful: to sit at His feet and hear His word.
That is the son’s posture. He sits down. He listens. He lets the Lord speak first. And Jesus promises that this good part “shall not be taken away from her.”
Scriptures known from a child
Paul’s last letter was written to Timothy, whom he called “my dearly beloved son” (2 Timothy 1:2). In it, Paul reminds Timothy of how he came to know the Scriptures:
But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them ; And that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.
“From a child thou hast known the holy scriptures.” Timothy had learned them at home. Paul mentions “thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice” (2 Timothy 1:5), whose faith had been passed down to him. He had first met the Scriptures in the arms of people who loved him.
And see what Paul says the Scriptures do. They “are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.” They lead to Christ. Then they are “profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.” That is a full range of ministry. Doctrine teaches us what is true. Reproof shows us where we have gone wrong. Correction sets us back on the right path. Instruction in righteousness trains us in how to live. And the goal is “That the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.”
A servant might read that list and focus anxiously on reproof and correction. A son can receive all four, because he knows the purpose. The Father uses His word to equip His children, the way a loving parent teaches, corrects and trains a child so that the child can flourish. Reproof is part of the package, but it is reproof from a Father who intends to furnish you for good works.
PunchlineNotice too that Paul calls Timothy “the man of God.” The phrase describes someone who belongs to God, shaped by His word for a life of usefulness.
The mirror and the law of liberty
James adds a vivid picture of what happens when we read:
But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. But whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein , he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed.
The Bible is like a mirror. It shows us our true face. A man who glances in a mirror and walks away, forgetting what he saw, gains nothing. James wants us to look, remember and respond. “Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only.”
There are two ways to misuse a mirror, and both belong to the servant’s way of reading. The first is the one James describes: to look and forget, hearing the word without letting it change anything. The second is the opposite: to look and despair, to stand in front of the mirror cataloguing every flaw until you cannot bear to look any more. The anxious servant often swings between the two, ignoring the word for a while and then reading it in a burst of self-condemnation.
James describes a third way. “But whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein.” Notice what he calls the word. The perfect law of liberty. It is a word that sets free. The son looks into it, sees what is true, and continues. He does not run away from the mirror, and he does not collapse in front of it. He lets the word show him what needs to change, and then he responds, because he knows he is loved. “This man shall be blessed in his deed.”
Suppose you read a passage about truthful speech and remember something misleading you said at work. You could defend it, explaining why it was necessary. You could collapse into shame and decide you are a hopeless hypocrite. Or you could come into the light. Tell your Father the truth. Correct what can be corrected, even if it means an uncomfortable conversation. Ask Him to help you speak honestly next time. That third response is the one James calls being a doer of the word, and it is only possible for someone secure enough to look into the mirror without fear.
A son can be corrected
Reading as a son does not mean reading only the comforting passages. Some people, once they discover their identity in Christ, begin to avoid every text that makes them uncomfortable, which is simply another way of being afraid. Hebrews reminds us that correction belongs to family life:
Furthermore we have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us , and we gave them reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.
“We have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them reverence.” The writer takes for granted that good fathers correct their children. Correction is a sign of belonging, not of rejection. And the Father’s correction has a beautiful purpose: “that we might be partakers of his holiness.” It is not pleasant at the time, but “afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness.”
Zainab’s father corrected her in his letters. He told her when she was talking too much in class and when she had neglected her grandmother. She did not read those lines as evidence that he was about to disown her. She read them as the words of a father who cared enough to tell her the truth.
That is how God’s word corrects His children. Some passages will reassure you. Others will expose impatience, pride, greed or injustice. Some will need patient study before their meaning becomes clear. A secure child can make room for all of them.
We should also read Hebrews 12 carefully. It does not teach that every illness, loss or hardship is a punishment for a particular sin. Many believers have been wounded by people who told them their suffering was God’s discipline for some hidden fault. The Father’s purpose described here is formative love, and the right response is to remain teachable, without anxiously searching for which sin caused which trouble.
This posture also changes how we handle the rhythms of reading. A reading plan can be a real help. Regularity protects our attention in a crowded week. But the plan has become a burden it was never meant to carry if you believe that a missed day has closed the Father’s door. Zainab works night shifts, and some weeks she misses several mornings. She used to come back to her Bible feeling she had to read five chapters to clear the debt, racing through the pages and remembering nothing. Now she thanks the Father for receiving her, reads a short passage slowly, and talks to Him about what she has read. Faithfulness sometimes means adjusting the plan to the season. The Father gains nothing from a completed chart that leaves His child afraid to speak with Him.
Sons who serve
One more thing needs saying, so that nobody misunderstands the title of this teaching. Reading as a son rather than a servant does not remove service from the Christian life. The apostles called themselves servants of Jesus Christ while teaching the church about adoption and inheritance. The difference lies in the basis of belonging and the posture from which we listen.
Jesus showed us what this looks like on the night He washed His disciples’ feet. John says He did it “knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God, and went to God” (John 13:3). Out of that settled knowledge of who He was, He took a towel and knelt on the floor. Security did not make service beneath Him. It freed Him to serve.
Bible reading should lead us to the same place. “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4). The word feeds us, and fed people have strength to serve. A passage on forgiveness may lead to a difficult conversation. A passage on generosity may affect this month’s budget. A passage on speech may change the next WhatsApp message you send. The response can be modest and specific. The word has entered your life when someone else begins to experience its fruit.
So before you read, take a moment to remember how you come to God. You come through Jesus Christ, as a child of the Father. Ask Him to give you understanding and a willing heart. Then read enough to hear the passage in its setting. You do not need to find a dramatic personal message in every verse. Sometimes the gift of a reading is a clearer view of God’s faithfulness across a long history. Sometimes it is a correction. Sometimes a familiar promise becomes strength for a responsibility already in front of you. If something is difficult, mark the question and study further. If something is clear, respond to it. And let prayer grow out of the reading, as a conversation with the One who has just spoken to you.
The night Zainab closed her Bible and realised she had been reading it like a query, she did something unusual. She climbed onto a chair, took down the biscuit tin from the top of her wardrobe and opened it. She sat on her bed and read three of her father’s letters, slowly. My dear daughter Zainab. She read the news, the jokes, the corrections. Your loving Papa. She noticed that she had kept every single one, even the ones that told her off.
Then she opened her Bible again. This time she turned to Galatians 4 and read until she came to the words, “thou art no more a servant, but a son.” She wrote at the top of a fresh page in her journal, My dear daughter Zainab, and underneath it she wrote out the verse. At the bottom of the page she wrote, Your loving Father.
She told me that she still reads difficult passages. She still finds things in Scripture that correct her, sometimes sharply. But she says she can hear the voice behind the words now. Leviticus no longer feels like a query. Proverbs no longer feels like a charge sheet. It is all part of the same collection of letters, written by the same Father, to a daughter He loves.
Your Bible is not a query from management. It is your Father’s word to His child. Open it this week as Mary sat at the feet of Jesus, as the psalmist tasted honey, as Timothy learned from those who loved him. Look into the perfect law of liberty, and continue. Every page is from Him, and every page leads you to the Son.
Teaching Companion
For Reflection
- When you open your Bible, which do you tend to feel more: the anxiety of someone reading a query, or the delight of someone reading a letter from a loving father?
- In what ways might you have searched the Scriptures, as Jesus described in John 5:39-40, and yet not come to Him?
- What would it look like for you to sit at Jesus’ feet like Mary, rather than reading in the anxious busyness of Martha?
- Which passages of Scripture have you been avoiding? How might reading them as a son change your approach to them?
- What practical response is the word of God asking of you at present, and who else would experience its fruit if you obeyed?
This Week
Each day this week, before you open your Bible, read Galatians 4:7 aloud with your own name in it. Then read one section of Psalm 119 (eight verses), slowly, and underline every word that expresses delight, love or joy. Afterwards, write one honest sentence to the Father about what you read, and one small, specific response you will make that day. If you miss a day, do not try to catch up. Simply begin again the next morning with the next section.
A Prayer
Father, thank You that I am no longer a servant but a son, and an heir through Christ. Forgive me for the times I have read Your word like a query, scanning anxiously for accusations and threats. Teach me to read it as Your letter to Your child. Give me the delight of the psalmist and the stillness of Mary at the feet of Jesus. When Your word corrects me, help me receive it as love. When it shows me my face, help me to continue and to obey. In every page, let me find Your Son and come to Him for life. Amen.
Truth received brings freedom. Truth believed establishes the heart.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version. · Illustrations using first names only are composites unless stated otherwise.