Open Strong's Concordance looking for the meaning of a biblical word, and you'll find something that looks authoritative. A numbered list. Greek or Hebrew terms. Multiple English translations.

You'll also find something the tool won't tell you: none of those glosses are the meaning you're looking for.

This isn't a problem with Strong's specifically. It's a fundamental misunderstanding about how language works.

Strong himself acknowledged this in his original preface, calling his concordance "brief and simple" and explicitly stating it wasn't meant to replace more elaborate lexicons. Yet generations of Bible readers have treated it as a definitive dictionary, expecting to find the real meaning of biblical words by looking up a number.

The tool provides possibilities. Context provides meaning.

The Cherry-Picking Problem

Consider the Greek word *erga*, typically translated "works."

Look it up in Strong's and you'll find options: actions, deeds, works, occupations, even labor. Someone reading James 2 ("faith without works is dead") might scan that list and select "meritorious deeds" because it fits their theological framework.

But James isn't talking about merit-based salvation.

The context reveals he's describing how faith demonstrates itself through concrete actions. The meaning is relational and demonstrative, not transactional. Grabbing "meritorious deeds" from a list ignores what James is actually saying in favor of what we expect him to say.

This is cherry-picking. And it happens constantly.

Real word study requires examining how a term functions within its passage, comparing usage across contexts, and discerning which semantic possibility fits the author's intent. The list of glosses is a starting point, not a destination.

How Language Actually Works

Here's the principle most people get backward: words don't have meaning. Meaning has words.

We instinctively think words carry fixed meanings that we extract when we read. But meaning emerges from how words function in context. The same word means different things in different settings because context creates meaning, not the other way around.

This isn't just true for ancient languages.

Think about the word "run" in English. You can run a race, run a business, run out of time, or have a run in your stocking. The word itself doesn't determine which meaning applies. Context does.

Biblical Hebrew and Greek work the same way. Words have semantic ranges (multiple possible meanings), and only by examining how they're used in specific passages can we determine which meaning the author intended.

This makes interpretation slower and more complex than most people want it to be.

But it also makes it more accurate.

The Ancient Cosmology Challenge

The problem gets more complicated when we encounter passages describing the physical world.

Genesis 1 describes God creating a "firmament" that separates waters above from waters below. The Hebrew word *raqia* refers to something solid, like a dome. Ancient Near Eastern cosmology consistently depicted the sky as a solid barrier holding back cosmic waters, with the earth as a flat disc below.

Modern readers immediately feel tension here.

We know the sky isn't solid. We know the earth isn't flat. So either the Bible is wrong, or we need to reinterpret these passages to align with modern science.

Both responses miss what's actually happening.

The biblical authors wrote using phenomenological language, describing things as they appear from a human observer's perspective. They used the cosmological framework available to them, not because they were teaching cosmology, but because they were communicating theological truths about God's creative authority and ordered design.

God accommodated human understanding.

He inspired writers within their cultural and intellectual context, using their worldview to communicate enduring spiritual realities. The firmament and waters above aren't scientific claims. They're symbolic language conveying God's power over chaos and his transcendent authority.

Understanding this distinction matters tremendously.

A Framework for Interpretation

So how do we decide what's phenomenological, what's symbolic, and what's meant as historical description?

Start with genre. Poetry and apocalyptic literature use metaphorical language more freely than historical narrative. But even narratives include phenomenological descriptions embedded in ancient worldviews.

Consider authorial intent. What was the writer trying to communicate? If the purpose is theological or symbolic, the language likely functions that way. If the purpose is to record events, the description aims toward historical accuracy within the author's cultural framework.

Check consistency with broader biblical teaching. Apparent phenomenological language shouldn't contradict core doctrinal truths, but it may express them in culturally relevant ways.

Compare with ancient Near Eastern context. Similarities often indicate shared phenomenological language rather than unique scientific claims.

Look for internal textual clues. Metaphor, simile, hyperbole, repetition, parallelism, and chiastic structures signal figurative or poetic language.

Apply this to Genesis 1-3.

The creation account in Genesis 1 follows a highly structured, repetitive pattern with poetic elements. It conveys theological truths about God's sovereignty and creative order using the phenomenological cosmology of its time. The firmament is phenomenological. The six-day structure is symbolic and functional rather than chronological.

Genesis 2-3 shifts to narrative with characters and dialogue. The tree and serpent function symbolically, representing moral choice and supernatural temptation. But the Fall itself is presented as a real historical event with real consequences for humanity.

Something can be both symbolic and historical simultaneously.

The Symbolism Question

This layered approach makes many people uncomfortable.

They want clear categories: either it happened or it's just a story. When you say the serpent is symbolic, they hear you saying the Fall didn't really happen and we're undermining the gospel.

But symbolism doesn't negate reality.

The serpent functions as a symbol of the divine adversary. The New Testament explicitly connects it with Satan. Whether it was a literal snake or a symbolic representation of supernatural evil, the core event remains historical: humanity rebelled, sin entered the world, and the gospel addresses that real brokenness.

Biblical narratives often use symbolic elements to communicate profound spiritual realities in ways that transcend mere facts.

The Fall is both a historical turning point and a theological explanation for human alienation from God. The symbolic language enriches our understanding without diminishing the event's reality.

Tools for Lay Readers

All of this sounds complex. And it is.

But responsible interpretation doesn't require mastering Hebrew and Greek or attending seminary.

Start with multiple Bible translations. Comparing how different translators handle difficult passages reveals nuances and prevents over-reliance on any single interpretive choice.

Use good study Bibles with scholarly notes explaining historical background, cultural context, and interpretive issues. Choose commentaries that engage original languages but write for lay readers.

Learn basic hermeneutical principles. Introductory resources on genre recognition, context, and authorial intent provide foundational skills without overwhelming detail.

Explore Bible software tools. Programs like Logos or free resources like Bible.org offer access to lexicons, interlinears, and cross-references that help explore original language insights without full language study.

Engage in community. Bible study groups and mentors who model responsible interpretation provide accountability and deepen understanding.

Pray for wisdom. Spiritual receptivity complements intellectual effort.

Progress is gradual. You won't become an expert overnight, but consistent study using these tools will deepen your understanding over time.

The Mindset Shift

The harder challenge isn't finding the right tools.

It's making peace with the process itself.

Many people approach the Bible expecting immediate clarity. God's word should be clear right now. But understanding Scripture deeply is often slow and complex, involving historical, cultural, linguistic, and theological layers.

Ambiguity and uncertainty are natural parts of this journey.

Even biblical scholars wrestle with difficult texts. No one has perfect understanding. Scripture itself invites ongoing reflection, rereading, and meditation rather than instant comprehension.

This requires humility.

Approach the Bible with openness and willingness to revise your understanding over time. Recognize that interpretation is a dialogue between the reader, the text, and the community of faith.

Some passages are intentionally complex or mysterious. It's okay not to have all the answers immediately. Spiritual growth often involves wrestling with hard questions and living with tension.

Encourage slow, thoughtful reading. Ask good questions rather than rushing to conclusions. Journal, discuss, and revisit passages over time to allow understanding to develop.

The Holy Spirit guides understanding, but that doesn't replace diligent study and effort.

Balancing Accessibility and Accuracy

Here's the tension: the more accurate you are, the more complex things become.

Making biblical scholarship accessible to everyday people means simplifying without oversimplifying. It means translating scholarly insights into clear language without sacrificing essential nuances.

This requires compromises.

Not every scholarly debate gets introduced immediately. Some complex linguistic or historical details get summarized or deferred to advanced resources. Sometimes breadth of coverage takes priority over exhaustive detail.

But certain boundaries remain non-negotiable.

Accuracy in essential doctrines and faithful representation of the biblical text cannot be sacrificed for simplicity. Technical terms are only used when necessary and always explained. Interpretations aren't presented as absolute when scholarly consensus is lacking.

Transparency about uncertainty builds trust and encourages critical thinking.

The goal is equipping people to engage Scripture thoughtfully and confidently, fostering both understanding and spiritual growth. This means layered teaching: introductory materials for newcomers and detailed resources for those who want to go deeper.

It means inviting questions, discussions, and further study rather than passive consumption.

The Deeper Journey

Biblical interpretation isn't just about finding the right method.

It's about recognizing what we bring to the text.

Every interpreter brings presuppositions and biases. Our cultural background, theological commitments, personal experiences, and worldview shape how we read Scripture. No one approaches the Bible as a blank slate.

Recognizing and reflecting on these presuppositions is essential to avoid unintentional distortion.

Meaning emerges through the interaction between text, author, and reader. This dynamic means humility and openness are vital virtues for interpreters. Total objectivity is impossible because interpretation involves human judgment.

Different sincere interpreters may arrive at different, yet plausible, understandings.

This isn't relativism. It's honesty about the interpretive process.

The church community, tradition, and ongoing scholarship play important roles in testing and refining interpretations over time. Biblical interpretation is both a spiritual discipline and an intellectual endeavor, requiring prayerful dependence on God's Spirit alongside rigorous study and critical thinking.

The goal is transformation, not just information.

Interpretation aims to lead readers into a deeper relationship with God, shaping beliefs, attitudes, and actions. The Bible's depth invites lifelong engagement, not quick fixes.

Understanding how language works, how ancient texts communicate, and how we bring ourselves to Scripture transforms not just what we know but how we approach knowing.

That transformation matters more than any single interpretive conclusion.