I’m sitting in a Bible study, digging into a psalm with a group of people, when a woman bursts out, “Why are we wasting our time with all this study? Why can’t we just read—instead of studying—and depend on the Lord?”

I’ve never read a well-reasoned defense of this perspective, so I don’t want to caricature it unfairly. But I’ve bumped into its proponents with regularity. Usually, there’s a claim that Bible study is too academic and disengaged from character and obedience. And that relating with God should be natural and full of chemistry and compatibility.

Thus, the reasoning goes, working hard at Bible study is like reading a manual about sex. It deflates the personal, relational component by replacing the beloved with mere information about the beloved.

But the illustration (and the perspective, I daresay) misses the fact that this “manual” wasn’t written by a disinterested third party but by the Beloved himself. The book explains how he wants to be known. Is it an act of dependence to disregard diligence in understanding it?

Jess Sand (2009), Creative Commons

For example, my wife occasionally sends me text messages with to-do reminders. Could I possibly express my love for her by failing to observe and interpret them well? If she asks me to buy milk, would she be delighted with buffalo wings? When she has a book on reserve at the library, does she want me to read it there and return it to the shelf?

I have much agreement with the people I describe in this post. I want to depend on the Lord. I don’t think knowledge about God should ever replace knowledge of God. I think we misread the book if we don’t know the person behind it.

But couldn’t it be the case that diligence is a sign of dependence? When building a bunk bed, couldn’t one express dependence by diligently following the assembly directions? And isn’t rejection of the manual tantamount to dependence on oneself?