Is the Bible really “Self-Interpreting”?

Among conservative evangelicals – particularly within Reformed traditions – the maxim “Scripture interprets Scripture” (often called the analogia Scripturae) functions as a doctrinal cornerstone. It promises a stable interpretive foundation and reassures believers that God’s Word carries within itself the tools needed to understand it. In pastoral contexts this has undeniable appeal in that it nurtures confidence in Scripture, guards against theological anarchy, and supports the conviction that God has spoken clearly and authoritatively.

Yet, for all its strengths, the doctrine itself often goes unexamined, even by its own criteria. For many evangelicals, the self-interpreting Bible becomes a kind of hermeneutical mechanism that is supposed to bypass the complexities of human interpretation. What we end up calling “self-interpretation” is something much more fragile, and more dependent on human judgment than its proponents tend to admit.

The first problem is philosophical. Even if the Bible were somehow capable of interpreting itself, readers would still need to interpret that interpretation. There is no bypassing the fact that Scripture does not read itself aloud to us or do some kind of cognitive transferal directly into our brains.

We decide which passages illuminate others, how genres shape meaning, and which theological principles should be privileged. Vanhoozer frames Scripture’s self-interpretation within a dramatic, participatory model that still places real responsibility on the interpreter (2005: 42-45, 115-118, 227-233. In practice, therefore, the doctrine functions less as a description of what Scripture does and more as a claim about what we hope Scripture does after the reader’s unavoidable interpretive role.

The second problem is biblical. Scripture nowhere declares itself to be “self-interpreting” in the modern evangelical sense. The Bible affirms its divine inspiration (2 Tim. 3:16), its usefulness, and its reliability, but it does not claim that every passage is equally clear, that all genres function the same way, or that human interpretive labour is unnecessary.

The biblical writers themselves interpret earlier Scripture with extraordinary freedom. We see this in Paul’s allegorical reading of Hagar and Sarah (Gal. 4), Matthew’s application of Hosea’s reference to Israel (Matt. 2:15), or Hebrews’ almost midrashic handling of Melchizedek. These are profound, and I believe Spirit-guided uses of Scripture, but they are not examples of “letting the Bible interpret itself” in the way we typically mean. They reflect the hermeneutical conventions of Second Temple Judaism, not the tidy internal cross-referencing system imagined today.

The third problem arises from the sheer diversity of biblical genres. Narrative does not function like poetry; apocalyptic visions cannot be laid over epistles; wisdom literature cannot casually be used to interpret legal material. Brueggemann has argued that biblical genres summon different interpretive postures (1982: 17-38, 72-92), and Childs famously reminded readers that the canonical unity of Scripture does not erase its internal plurality (1979: 73-77).

If the Bible contains multiple literary forms, written in different periods, in different voices, and for different purposes, then the idea that it possesses a single internal hermeneutical engine becomes hard to sustain. To make the doctrine of self-interpretation work, we must inevitably flatten those differences, and – to be frank – flattening the Bible in the name of biblical fidelity is self-defeating at best, and boarderline heretical at worst. In this lies the main issue with the doctrine, that it does, in fact, misread the Bible texts.

The fourth problem is historical. The early Church Fathers certainly used Scripture to illuminate Scripture, but none believed that the Bible spoke in such a straightforward voice that human interpretation could be sidelined. As problematic as it is, Medieval interpreters developed the quadriga precisely because Scripture was seen as rich, layered, and requiring interpretive mediation.

Even the Reformers, who championed scriptura sui ipsius interpres (Luther, 1520) did so as a challenge to ecclesiastical monopoly, not as a claim that individual readers could simply open the Bible and find a fully transparent system of self-commentary. Calvin’s own commentaries demonstrate profound dependence on history, languages, and tradition. What is often defended today as an ancient or biblical doctrine is, in fact, a modern construction intensified by post-Enlightenment desires for interpretive certainty. I would push harder and say it is bound by the cultural rules of Western epistemology which, by its nature, clears the table of nuance in order to arrive at singls actionable ideas. That, however, would be an article in its own right.

The fifth problem, and perhaps the most pastoral issue with the doctrine is the misplaced confidence it generates. When evangelicals claim a “self-interpreting” Scripture, they often mean “my interpretation feels objective because I believe Scripture interprets itself.” But this masks the interpreter’s cultural, theological, denominational, and even psychological biases.

N. T. Wright is right to insist that there is no such thing as a neutral reading of Scripture (1992: 63-70), and Walton reminds us that ancient texts demand ancient cultural assumptions, and those assumptions are not native to modern Western readers (2009: 14). Far from protecting objectivity, the doctrine often hides the interpreter’s subjectivity behind a veneer of certainty.

What does this mean for Scripture as the inspired Word of God?

None of this requires abandoning Scripture’s authority or clarity. A more faithful evangelical approach would affirm Scripture’s inspiration while acknowledging the centrality of interpretive humility. It would recognise that the Spirit guides the church, not by eliminating the interpretive process, but by animating it. It would treat the Christian community, historical consciousness, linguistic study, and wise theological tradition not as threats to biblical authority but as its natural companions. Such an approach allows Scripture to speak with its own diverse and polyphonic voices, rather than forcing it to conform to a single interpretive rule.

In the end, reconsidering the doctrine of a self-interpreting Bible is not an act of theological rebellion but of theological honesty. The Bible does not present itself as a system that removes the need for readers, it presents itself as a divine-human text that invites attentive, communal, disciplined engagement. Evangelicals who relinquish the comforting simplicity of the “self-interpreting Bible” may find themselves drawn more deeply, not less, into the richness of Scripture—and more reliant, not less, on the God who speaks through it.

Sources

Brueggemann, Walter. The Creative Word: Canon as a Model for Biblical Education. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1982.

Brueggemann, Walter. The Prophetic Imagination. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1978.

Childs, Brevard S. Biblical Theology of the Old and New Testaments. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992.

Childs, Brevard S. Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979.

George, Timothy. Reading Scripture with the Reformers. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2011.

Luther, Martin. Luther’s Works. Vol. 39, Church and Ministry II. Edited by E. W. Gritsch. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970.

Vanhoozer, Kevin J. The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Linguistic Approach to Christian Theology. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005.

Walton, John H. Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament: Introducing the Conceptual World of the Hebrew Bible. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2006.

Wright, N. T. Scripture and the Authority of God. London: SPCK, 2011.

Wright, N. T. . The New Testament and the People of God. London: SPCK, 1992.

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