I grew up believing the human authors of the Bible were “inspired stenographers,” carefully recording the words the Holy Spirit dictated. That, I thought, was how inspiration worked. I therefore believed in “inerrancy”—though I didn’t know the word then—the idea that the Bible contains no errors at all. After all, if every word came directly from God, how could there be mistakes? No one ever said this outright, but everyone I trusted—parents, teachers, pastors—treated Scripture as if it were flawless.
And then John shattered that idea.
“So then, many other signs Jesus also performed in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that by believing you may have life in His name.” (John 20:30–31 KJV)
I had read that passage many times before it struck me: Jesus performed many signs—John’s word for miracles—but John recorded only some. He chose which ones to leave out, and he tells us why. I do not doubt the Holy Spirit guided him, but the choices were his. Insisting on inerrancy here only raises more questions. This forced me to admit that inspiration doesn’t work the way I once thought.
This isn’t the place to explore inspiration fully, but the Gospels give us important clues. None of the authors claim visions or direct dictation. Matthew and Mark simply tell their stories. Luke says it “seemed good to him” to write his account. John chose events to build faith.
That surprises many of us, perhaps because we emphasize Daniel and Revelation—books filled with visions and heavenly messengers. But none of that occurs in the Gospels. So what do we make of this?
For insight, we can turn back to Genesis. Chapter 1 shows God bringing order out of chaos and life out of barrenness. Chapter 2 shifts the focus:
“Now no shrub had yet appeared on the earth and no plant had yet sprung up, for the Lord God had not sent rain on the earth and there was no one to work the ground.” (Gen. 2:5)
The text gives two reasons for the barrenness: 1) the Lord had not sent rain, and 2) no one was there to till the soil. In other words, creation was designed to flourish through partnership: God provides the rain, humans work the ground.
Inspiration follows the same pattern. Only God can reveal the mysteries of creation, but humans can “till the soil” by expressing those mysteries in words. And just as different soils require different cultivation, God works with each human author in different ways.
Only God knows the future, so He revealed it in Revelation through visions, which John then conveyed in terms his audience could grasp. By contrast, the Gospels relied more on memory and reflection. That too involved divine input—but the shaping, ordering, and expression were human work.
In each gospel—and throughout scripture—we see a combination of divine input and human effort in varying ways. As Blaise Pascal observed, God “gave us the dignity of causality”—our choices make a real difference. Paul said it plainly: “we are God’s fellow workers.” Together, they point to the same truth the inspired authors reveal—that collaboration between God and humankind produced the Bible. Inspiration is not dictation—it is God’s rain falling on human soil, bringing forth the harvest of Scripture.
When we read it with eyes open to both the divine voice and the human hand, we may find its harvest richer than we ever imagined.
