Reading The Bible in 100 Days: What I learned

On January 1st 2025, I began my challenge to read aloud The Bible, and recorded myself doing so. The intention was to narrate an audiobook which I would make available on Youtube. This wasn’t a speed-reading exercise or a quiet morning ritual over coffee. It was a full-bodied, vocal performance—hours of sustained, spoken engagement with the Word of God each day. On average, I read out loud for 3 hours per day, which was in itself a feat.

As a theologian, theological lecturer, researcher, and pastor, I have spent most of my adult life immersed in the pages of Scripture. I hold both a BA and an MA certificate in Theology, and I have taught and studied the Bible professionally for over 15 years. I have read through the Bible multiple times—both for personal devotion and for academic and ministerial work. Yet, as I embarked this year on a project to read aloud the entire Bible, I experienced some refreshingly unexpected things. Despite being deeply familiar with the text, I encountered it in new ways which genuinely surprised me. And I'd like to share some of things which stood out to me.

1. Reading for the Flow, Not the Fragment

   
   

One of the most striking aspects of this journey was how different the Bible felt when read as a continuous narrative - a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. In academic and pastoral settings, we often engage the text in smaller portions—pericopes for preaching, chapters for study, or even single verses for reflection. My own exegetical method has always emphasised the extreme importance of contextual reading, ensuring that each passage is understood in its historical, literary, and theological context. But even with that approach, reading the whole of Scripture in such a condensed period reinvigorated a belief I already held: the immersive force of the biblical narrative as a unified, unfolding story.

There is a different kind of comprehension that comes when you don’t pause between books, don’t skip the genealogies or skim the prophetic laments. When you follow the characters, the people from the Exodus through the monarchy, the exile, and return—and then into the Gospels, Acts, Epistles, and Revelation—in a matter of weeks rather than years, the weight of that journey hits you with surprising power. And clarity.

2. A Growing Frustration—and Then, a Release

One thing I hadn’t anticipated was the emotional response I would have to the repeated and escalating failures of God’s people.

Yes, I knew the story. I knew the cycles of rebellion and repentance, the calls of the prophets, and the eventual exile. I’ve taught about these patterns for years. But hearing it, reading it aloud, chapter after chapter, generation after generation... it wore on me. It actually made me exhausted. And angry! And absolutely fed up! The utter, utter corruption of the Israelites—the depth of it, the insidious, violent, despicable, horrific malevolence. And the relentlessness of it—was grueling.

It's easy to sum up this story as, “God was really patient with Israel over a long time.” But that summation doesn't capture the emotional toll of seeing it unfold. I found myself longing for judgment. For anything to stop the oppression of the vulnerable and powerless. By the time the Babylonian exile arrived, I literally gasped aloud and said, “Finally. Finally, God ended it. Finally, He made them stop.”

3. A Centrality of Justice

If one theme echoed louder than all others throughout this reading, it was justice.

I’ve always known and believed that justice is at the foundation of God’s kingdom. But this time, I saw it in deeper hues and laters. I heard how incessantly, constantly God returns to it. Justice is not a side-project of God's kingdom. It is it's mission. It laces every prophet's message, underlies every law, guards every act of worship. Whether in the Law, the Prophets, or the Gospels, the call is the same: justice is not ancillary—it is central to the life of faith.

Obedience to God is not merely personal piety or ritual correctness. Nor is it some ethereal, individual feeling-based cloud of sparkly faith. It is living rightly with others. It is just action. It is economic justice, legal fairness, care for the poor, the disabled, women, widows, the foreigner, the refugee, and defence of the oppressed. It is refusing to exploit, marginalise, or dehumanise. Worship without justice is an abomination to God—He says so in no uncertain terms, like a ever-rolling tape stuck on repeat. The text doesn’t whisper this. It thunders it. If you read The Bible and fail to come away with this truth, you have committed the sin of twisted and abusing God's word.

This emphasis became unavoidable. Once you’re attuned to it, you can’t unsee it. The arc of Scripture insists again and again: a people who belong to God must live justly.

4. A Much Long Read Than I Expected

In the past, I've narrated The Lord of the Rings trilogy for audiobook. Because of this, in my hubris, I assumed I had a fairly good sense of pacing and vocal endurance. But I drastically underestimated how long the Bible truly is—especially when read aloud.

The Bible is, by far, the longest book I have ever recorded. Most days required 3 or more hours of straight reading, and my voice and my energy took the hit.

The physicality of reading Scripture somehow moved the experience from being purely cerebral or a mental exercise, to also feeling like a physical labour of love. And pain. For someone with chronic illness, fatigue, and chronic pain, this a big challenge at times, and delayed me from finishing on schedule by 15 days.

5. Scripture was meant to be heard

   
   

It also gave me a new respect for the oral tradition from which the Bible emerged. In the ancient world, most people encountered Scripture, not by reading it privately, but by hearing it publicly. The text was written with this oral dynamic in mind. There is rhythm, repetition, and rhetorical structure built for the ear, not the eye.

As I read aloud, I became more atuned, at times, to how The Bible were crafted for public reading. In the temple, synagogues, in homes, and eventually in churches, Scripture was shared in assembly. It was a communal event. People heard the Word far more than they read it.

That oral tradition still speaks through the pages. The cadence of the Psalms, the oracles of the prophets, the storytelling style of the Gospels—all of it sings when spoken. And this impression remains despite what's lost in translation from the Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek into English. This reminded me how different it is to “hear” Scripture rather than simply scan it silently. Reading aloud brought an intimacy and intensity that surprised me. And I found myself wondering how much we’ve lost by making our engagement with Scripture largely private and silent.

6. Unexpected Books That Captured My Heart

   
   

There were also profound surprises along the way. Books I had previously skimmed or overlooked took on new life. Two in particular stood out: Ezekiel and Job.

Ezekiel is one of those books that many, even seasoned Bible readers, regard as impenetrable, bizarre, or overly mystical. But I didn't find it so. I found it timely, it made sense, and it was, in fact, extraordinary.

While other prophets focus on the political and military dimensions of Israel’s fall, Ezekiel offers a spiritual autopsy of a spiritually-dead nation. Ezekiel peaks behind the veil. Where other prophets focus on the brick and mortar of Jerusalem's walls, the physical destruction of the temple, Ezekiel is shown how God leaves Jerusalem. He leaves his people. He leaves the temple. His shekinah withdraws. And it doesn't return until a man named Yeshua enter the temple many years later.

Ezekiel shows the theological catastrophe behind the national collapse. It’s not just stones falling. It’s the presence of God withdrawing. This perspective is breathtaking and devastating. It is a clear message from God to the exiles: this isn't random calamity, this isn't merely physical defeat. You drove me out of your city, your temple, your hearts. Ezekiel's life becomes a sort of stage on which he is dramatic actor, on display, a tragic pantomime for a stubborn people to watch. As though they're so beyond being reasoned with, they can't even heard reason or words any more, but must be approached with dramatic display and ridiculous spectacle.

And then there’s Job. I had dreaded reading it aloud. To go through chapter after chapter of grief, despair, and loss. But it became a deeply cathartic experience. Job’s suffering mirrored my own pain in certain areas. His questions kept taking me by surprise, but they were mine. His loneliness, his utter grief. I saw in Job's lines myself, I saw Palestinians, I saw the oppressed.

The injustice he endured while defending both himself and God spoke to my own longing for vindication. And then, when God finally intervenes—when He fiercely rebukes Job’s friends for their sin of misrepresenting Him and why there is suffering in the world—I wept. Reading Job was putting words to pain.

7. Revelation Reconsidered

Another book that took me by surprise was Revelation.

Often treated with fear, suspicion, or sensationalism, it is misunderstood by many—abused by many too. But when reading straight through, without interruption, it feels astonishingly grounded.

Revelation is not about fear-creating—it is about justice and restoration. It is a vision of God’s justice finally arriving. It is the assurance that evil will not win, that the martyrs are seen, that suffering will not last forever. Revelation speaks to every oppressed people, every unjust system, every broken body. It is not a threat to those to trust God; it is their comfort and vindication.

A common mistake made when approaching Revelation is to get lost in the sauce. Lost in the interpretations, numbers, codes, secrets, conspiracies. But I have found that evil rarely hides deep in some secret maze that only the very clever or religious elite can unlock. Rather, there is such enlightenment to be found in taking a step back and looking at Revelation as a bigger picture. To ask: What are the larger themes here? What are some large characteristics of Hebrew apocalyptic literature. How might that help me better understand my place in this narrative, and what Jesus is trying to communicate to his people?

7. The Dunamis

In Koine Greek, "dunamis" (δυναμις) generally means power, ability, or strength. And this manifests in how God's word works: it has power and is dynamic. It creates. His words are dead, but affects the real world. I experiences this when re-encountering the truth that Scripture is a living word.

There is no other book I’ve read as many times as I have the Bible. Yet each time, it opens something new. This isn’t merely due to memory loss or small attention span. It is a mystery I do not understand, but which I know is true: the Word lives. It moves. It meets me—not as a projection of my needs or moods or ideologies - but as something alive and active.

As I change, the Word seems to shift—not in its meaning, but in its impact and application. As my trust in God matures, so the text moves to meet me. It finds the crevices I didn’t know were there. It speaks to the pain I couldn’t articulate. It convicts, encourages, disorients, and stabilises all at once. It is not tame. It is not flat. It is not predictable.

Reading it aloud, day after day, reminded me of this truth in a most vivid way.

There were countless times I found myself saying aloud, “I don’t remember this story.” Even after years of study, preaching, and teaching, I was stunned by how much I had forgotten—or perhaps had never truly seen. The Bible never runs dry. Familiarity does not diminish its power. In fact, it may be precisely that familiarity that opens the door for fresh revelation.

In Conclusion

This 100-day journey through Scripture—intense, physical, emotional, and theological—has left me moved. It was exhausting. It was overwhelming. But it was also powerful, educational, and transformative.

Whether you are a seasoned scholar, a new believer, or someone wrestling with God, I encourage you to try reading The Bible. Or listening to it! It is a companion, a mirror, a fire, a refuge. It is the living Word. And it is still speaking.

If you'd like to listen to The Bible on audiobook for free, you can right here:

The Bible: Narrated by Natalie Kendel (Playlist)