The Bible, whether divinely inspired or not, is heavily tailored towards the lives of the people living at the time. It has a good deal of culinary advice about what to eat in the absence of refrigeration, and precious little to say specifically about social media, wearing seatbelts, or complex medical procedures like coronary bypass or gender reassignment surgery, or the correct way to adjudicate use of advanced technology in sports (e.g. performance enhancing drugs or high-tech prosthetics or special swim caps).

It’s patently obvious that men and women do have biological differences (e.g. the strongest men are considerably stronger than the strongest women), but once we start futzing with things, we’re on our own.

Now, you might say, “Well, then don’t go futzing with things!” Fine, you don’t have to. But when other people do, and we are still called to love our neighbor as ourselves, and our neighbor wants to compete, what do we say?

In that case, we should probably say that they are welcome to do those things as befits their actual status (not on their say-so, but because we’ve checked and measured and because they have that status). And how do we know what the status actually is? By vehement assertion? Or by careful checking? Danica Patrick is a really good driver — we checked. She can handle IndyCar races with men. Her time trials were great. So we said: go for it, Danica. You and the men are reasonably within the same status.

If everything is as obvious as you say for more physical sports, the checks will come out exactly as you think, and there is no harm done (as long as you check first, change rules afterwards, to the extent possible).

There isn’t much more to do even if we thought it wise to base everything as closely as possible on scripture. Nobody thousands of years ago wrote down advice about sporting after advanced medical procedures, or about taking a coronavirus booster, or about whether social media companies should require proof of identity. We’re doing a bunch of weird new stuff, and while we might reference historical wisdom to guide us, we’re not going to get literal answers.

(Even if we think we find a literal answer, it might be allegory.)