Psalm 23 loses its "Sunday school song" vibe when it is just words on a screen. Without the verse numbers acting like speed bumps, the shepherd leads you beside still waters in one uninterrupted breath.

And that is precisely where I met God. Not in the neat systematic theology, but in the raw, unpolished, ancient script. The kind of text you’d expect from a group of desert nomads who claimed the wind spoke to them.

The red letters are a great invention, but they also create a hierarchy (Red words > Black words). In .txt , everything is white on black (or green on black, if you are feeling retro). The Sermon on the Mount flows right into the story of the centurion. The separation between "Jesus speaking" and "Matthew narrating" disappears. It is all one story.

But the .txt exercise taught me that the Bible doesn't need my help to be powerful.

It cannot defend itself. It cannot put a disclaimer at the top of Psalm 137 ( "This is imprecatory, please don't literally bash babies" ). It just sits there. Raw. Honest. Messy.