A Crisis of Exegesis in Evangelical Christianity

In contemporary evangelical Christianity the elevation of doctrinal loyalty above the rigorous interpretation of Scripture, is increasingly becoming a problem.

In this, the hermeneutical process which should include the careful study of biblical texts in their historical, literary, and grammatical contexts is being bypassed (or assumed done) to uphold established credal positions. As counter intuitive as this sounds, it increasingly seems like it’s the conservative evangelical breaking the most basic exegetical rules in their efforts to explain doctrine.

This, if I’m right and it is a trend, has profound implications on the credibility of evangelical scholarship.

Overreaching as hermeneutical habit

A significant marker of this phenomenon is the practice of citing isolated verses to support a theological claim (prooftexting), often without showing any understanding of the broader textual or historical context. Prooftexting becomes particularly problematic when the claim is central to doctrinal identity, such as the inerrancy of Scripture, interpretations of salvation, or the immutability of particular moral laws.

Consider passages concerning gender roles, divine wrath, or election. Evangelical interpreters frequently latch onto a single verse or phrase to reinforce their doctrinal stance, while disregarding essential narrative tension, historical context, or important nuances in the original language. The result is, quite literally, eisegesis; reading what one already believes into the text. This makes the verses used as a mirror reflecting pre-existing convictions.

For a clearer example, I recently read the following tweet:

“The majority of Christians will get married one day (AND THEY SHOULD!) because the Bible commands it. 1 Corinthians 7:9, ‘If you burn with passion, bend your knee in marriage.’”

This significantly reads into the text. 1 Cor. 7:9 contains a clear conditional clause, addressing those struggling with sexual desire. Issuing instead a universal mandate is an application several steps removed from its meaning. Contextually, Paul explicitly commends singleness as a gift (vv.7–8, 26–28, 32–35) and frames his advice on marriage as a concession for practical circumstances (v.6), not a blanket divine requirement. In this case the author of the tweet not only seriously overreaches in their use of this as a prooftext but actually reverses the meaning of the verse in its context.

Neglect and evasion of basis exegesis

Beyond selective citation, what we also see is the sidestepping of grammatical and syntactical issues. Greek and Hebrew are not merely ornamental, their tense, aspect, mood, and case structures are critical for discerning the nuance present in every text. Yet some evangelical interpreters oftentimes smooth over difficult constructions if the natural reading would challenge their doctrinal position.

Here's some examples:

The use of κεφαλή (“head”) in 1 Cor. 11 and Eph. 5
A frequent example is the insistence that κεφαλή must mean “authority over,” even though the term has a wide range of possible meanings including “source” (as in the source of a river). In fact, even translating κεφαλή as “foremost” or “most noble” – which is how complementarian translators get to “over” – is rare in ancient Greek literature, which usually favours something more like first, base, or coping (as in of a wall).Rather than engaging with lexical evidence or syntactical markers in Paul’s argument, however, some simply assert the meaning that upholds a predetermined complementarian structure. In these cases, the grammatical evidence is not grappled with but bypassed entirely.

Jesus’ words on divorce in Matthew 19.
The so-called “exception clause” (πορνεία) is grammatically complex, sits within a first-century halakhic debate, and interacts with Deut. 24. Yet many treatments reduce the passage to a single rigid rule that happens to align with the interpreter’s pre-existing stance on divorce and remarriage, with little exploration of the clause’s syntactical ambiguity or its Jewish legal context.

Jeremiah 29:11 as a universal promise.
The grammar of the surrounding passage (plural “you” forms, covenant-specific context, exilic timeframe) makes clear that the oracle is addressed to a particular plural community in a particular crisis. Yet many sermons ignore these basic markers and universalise the promise to individuals because it better serves pastoral or theological expectations.

“I do not permit a woman to teach…” (1 Tim 2:12).
The syntax here, especially αὐθεντεῖν and its relation to διδάσκειν, hinges on rare vocabulary, in that it only appears once in the New Testament. So, αὐθεντεῖν is said to mean “to have full power”, whereas the classical usage of αὐθεντῆς means “murderer”, “perpetrator”, or even just “part of a murderer’s family.” There are a couple of references to αὐθεντία used as “absolute sway”, but these are far less common. Nevertheless, some interpreters treat the English translation as self-evidently clear and decline to engage with the actual grammatical difficulties because doing so could unsettle a settled ecclesial stance. Even commentators who are more inclined to engage with the language rarely venture beyond homogenous New Testament Greek lexicons, such as Young or Strong, and not into the boarder library of Greek word usage.

So, many debates are often resolved by appeals to tradition and theological necessity rather than careful linguistic or historical analysis. Similarly, when context exposes a verse to multiple plausible interpretations, the “safe” choice is frequently the one that buttresses the doctrinal agenda rather than the one most faithful to the text’s original sense.

Biblical Literacy and Theological Integrity

This pattern has several cascading consequences. First, it erodes biblical literacy, as congregants are trained to recognise Scripture as a weapon to defend dogma rather than as a dynamic, historically situated witness to God’s revelation. Second, it fosters confirmation bias among interpreters themselves, privileging sources, commentaries, and examples that reinforce a doctrinal narrative. Finally, it undermines the moral and intellectual credibility of evangelicalism in wider discussions.

Doctrine plays a critical role in shaping Christian identity for sure, but when doctrinal commitments override the exegesis itself, Scripture becomes instrumentalised (or even weaponised) and used as a tool to justify positions rather than explored as the foundation from which doctrine emerges. This reversal is not merely academic, it transforms how Christians encounter God and engage in theological reflection.

True exegesis requires intellectual humility, a willingness to entertain ambiguity, and a readiness to revise cherished assumptions. It demands that interpreters let the text determine the theology, rather than the reverse. As long as doctrinal-agenda loyalty dominates, evangelical exegesis risks becoming a cycle of circular reasoning.

There is a personal side to this article too. I have sometimes been called ‘liberal’ for certain beliefs, regardless of my conclusions (and mind-changes) coming as a result of what I would call ‘conservative’ methodology. Usually in these conversations, I’m more able to articulate a Scriptural basis for my beliefs using traditional exegetical method. That seems, however, to rarely matter. I’ve been consistently shocked at the lack of basic exegetical fundamentals of those who staunchly tell me I’m being ‘unbiblical’, all the while being unable to quote scripture or engage directly with the text itself when put before them. I’m (usually) happy to be wrong if it's clear the Bible speaks a direction different to mine – but you must let the Bible actually speak to get there.

In short, evangelicalism must reclaim the discipline of text-centred exegesis. Scripture is the source from which theology must spring, it is not merely a toolbox for theology. Only by submitting doctrine to the text can evangelical Christianity maintain intellectual honesty, and spiritual depth.