Hi friends,
Over the past week, I made a few posts that unexpectedly blew up in the comments.
Not because I was trying to stir controversy.
Honestly, my intent was simple. I was trying to show a progression. To highlight how the Torah functioned in its original setting. To invite curiosity about what faith looked like 3,000–3,500 years ago.
But what struck me wasn’t the disagreement.
It was the speed.
As soon as certain words appeared — “law,” “Torah,” “commandments” — the tone shifted. The conversation didn’t unfold. It ignited.
And it made me realize something important.
For many of us, those words don’t just carry meaning.
They carry anxiety.
Salvation Anxiety
Let me name something directly: salvation anxiety.
Not the cartoon version. Not fear of hell in the abstract.
Something subtler.
The fear of being wrong about something that feels ultimate.
The fear that curiosity might disqualify us.
The fear that if we loosen our grip on a certain framework, we might lose our standing with God.
When that anxiety is present, certain topics don’t feel educational.
They feel dangerous.
So the nervous system steps in.
We stop asking, “What was this doing in its original context?”
And start asking, “Does this threaten my salvation?”
That shift happens fast. Often before we even realize it.
And once it happens, learning mode shuts down.
What I Was Actually Trying to Do
My intent in those posts was not to argue that keeping the law saves anyone.
It wasn’t to create a new checklist.
It wasn’t to smuggle works into justification.
It was far simpler.
I was trying to invite curiosity.
What was God doing with a newly freed people at Sinai?
What kind of society was He shaping?
What did justice look like in that world?
What does it tell us about God’s character and human flourishing?
Those are historical and theological questions.
But when everything collapses into “How do I get saved?” we can’t even get to them.
Both sides of the debate often end up in the same place — reading every passage through the lens of salvation status. One side fears law undermines grace. The other fears grace erases obedience. Different conclusions, same center of gravity.
Everything becomes about securing standing.
And that’s exhausting.
The Cost of Living in Anxiety
Here’s the part that concerns me most.
When certain subjects automatically trigger fight-or-flight, curiosity gets punished.
A person raises a question.
The temperature spikes.
The conversation narrows.
And the lesson learned is: Don’t go there.
Over time, we internalize that message.
Not because we’re rebellious.
Not because we lack faith.
But because we’ve been formed to equate certainty with safety.
In many religious environments, faithfulness has quietly become synonymous with having the right conclusions locked down.
But Scripture doesn’t present maturity as mental closure.
It presents maturity as wisdom.
And wisdom requires discernment, patience, and the ability to sit with tension without panicking.
What If Confidence Changes Everything?
Imagine approaching difficult passages without your nervous system bracing for impact.
Imagine being able to read “law” or “Torah” and feel curiosity instead of threat.
Imagine trusting that your standing with God is secure enough to explore hard questions without fear.
That kind of reading posture changes everything.
It allows us to ask better questions.
It allows us to distinguish between:
- What a text was doing in its original setting,
- And how it fits into the larger biblical story,
- Without collapsing every discussion into salvation math.
That’s not compromise.
That’s confidence.
This Is Why Confident Reading Matters
This is exactly why I talk so much about becoming a Confident Reader.
Not someone who has every answer.
But someone whose faith isn’t fragile.
Someone who can slow down instead of react.
Someone who can notice, “My nervous system just spiked,” and choose curiosity over combat.
The goal isn’t to win debates about law and grace.
It’s to become the kind of disciple who can stay calm when Scripture stretches them.
Because growth requires space.
And anxiety shrinks space.
If you’ve ever felt that tightening in your chest when certain topics come up — you’re not alone. That reaction doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’ve been formed in an environment where some questions felt dangerous.
The good news?
You can unlearn that.
You can read with confidence instead of fear.
And when you do, the Bible opens up in ways that debate mode will never allow.
Have a blessed week,
—Ryan
