What is scrupulosity, and how can it be overcome?

We are not yet done with your letter, dear friend. We think we discern another feature in your case which tends to produce the spiritual depression of which you complain. If we mistake not, you are afflicted with an unhealthy, gloomy conscience. This is a sore evil, a heavy burden, a very great trial. We deeply feel for anyone laboring under this grievous malady, for it not only affects oneself, but all with whom one comes in contact. There is a wide difference indeed between a scrupulous or exacting conscience and a tender conscience. The former is governed by its own fears; the latter by the Word of God. The former induces feebleness and uncertainty in all one's ways; the later, a holy stability and consistency. We can hardly conceive a more troublesome companion than a morbid, gloomy conscience. It is always creating difficulties for its possessor and placing stumbling-blocks in his way. But a tender conscience is invaluable. It resents only what ought to be resented. Its action is true and healthy. It does not morbidly seek out the cause of trouble and defilement, but being duly acted upon by the Word of God as applied by the Holy Spirit, it yields a true response and thus discharges with vigor its divinely appointed functions.

We question if this is felt as it ought to be. We fear there is a light, flippant, easy-going style in reference to sin and failure, which must be very grievous indeed to the Spirit of God. We rest content with the mere lip confession, without the deep, heartfelt sense of the evil of sin in God's sight. The thing itself is not judged in its moral roots, and, as a consequence of this trifling with sin, the heart becomes hard, and the conscience loses its tenderness. This is very serious. We know of few things more precious than a tender conscience. We do not mean a scrupulous conscience, which is governed by its own crotchets; or a morbid conscience, which is governed by its own fears. Both these are most troublesome guests for any one to entertain. But we mean a tender conscience, which is governed, in all things, by the word of God, and which refers, at all times, to His authority. This sound description of conscience we consider an inestimable treasure. It regulates everything, takes cognisance of the very smallest matter connected with our daily walk and habits — our mode of dress — our houses — our furniture — our table — our entire deportment, spirit, and style — our mode of conducting our business, or, if it be our lot to serve others, the mode in which we discharge the service, whatever it be. In short, everything falls under the healthful moral influence of a tender conscience. "Herein," says the blessed apostle, "do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offence toward God and men." Acts 24:16.

Now it is well to remember that human nature always tends to one or other of the perils which threatened the saints at Rome. Liberty, if not exercised immediately in Christ's service, is apt to slip into a lack of conscience: sense of responsibility, if not maintained with full and unclouded rest in God's grace, soon degenerates into a burdened and groaning scrupulosity. The Christian is in principle delivered from both these snares: he is dead with Christ, and so ordinances of "touch not, taste not, handle not" no longer apply. They are meant for those who are living in the world; whereas, he is dead with Christ and risen with Him, no longer to be occupied with such earthly restrictions, but free to set the mind upon things above, where Christ sitteth at God's right hand. Such is the position of the Christian for himself; but then for his brethren, there is the love that bears with and respects the conscience that is tried by the very things in which he realises his liberty. Love bends to feebleness of faith, never to latitudinarianism; love does not put a cause of tripping or stumbling before one's brother.

Well, those that are "weak in the faith", if we look at the context of that passage, it refers to those that have a conscience which is more scrupulous, more tender than necessary. They believe that they should do, or not do, things which Christians, that have more knowledge, know that they can do. That is what those that are "weak in the faith" means. Of course, we should not be at all unwilling to receive those that are mistakenly perhaps more scrupulous in their behaviour than we are. Some might say, for example, Oh, I don't think that a Christian should have a mortgage. Others, most of them in the assembly, might say, Oh, but I think they can! why not? Well, if you can say the one that does refuse the mortgage (in view of those that think they should have a mortgage) is the "weak one", you should still receive him, but "not to doubtful disputations"... not if he starts to argue about it, and generally make a disputation in the assembly. That's quite clear but we don't get very far with that.

A bad conscience works in different ways, and is the cause of many trials for the soul, producing difficulties, doubts and fears, instead of introducing the heart into the sovereign love and blessing of God. Who has not come across this state can have little idea of the sufferings caused by it in a soul. Often a bad conscience is bound up with a legal mind, then the believer becomes a stranger to peace and joy by faith.

In the next place I admit freely, that when the conscience is powerfully wrought upon, it is quite possible that many physical and nervous sentiments may accompany them, which to the world, and perhaps to doctors, appears the whole matter, while they are really (while I quite admit the possibility of their existence) but the mere indices of deeper and much more important feelings: and it is of these that I desire to speak. It is sad indeed to smother up our feelings towards God which concern our eternal interests, because they produce certain passing painful effects.

It is a dreadful moment in the soul's history when one wakes up to the consciousness of having committed sin — sin against light, knowledge, and privilege — sin against divine grace and goodness. Satan is sure to be specially busy at such a crisis. He casts in the most terrible suggestions — raises all manner of questions — fills the heart with legal reasonings, doubts, and fears — causes the soul to totter on the foundation.

It may have been just so with my reader. The true believer dreads nothing so much as sin, and yet that which he most feared, yea, sin — to find sin, sin, sin, and to hate it, to fear it, to try hard to be entirely without it, and sometimes hope it is all gone, and still to find it turn up again, and to find oneself no better, it seems to take away all safety — no rest, no quiet, but, as it was with Job, trouble comes. I know that, until Job’s lesson is learnt, it is so with every child of God. Yes, and just in proportion to your love of God, and hatred of sin, is the bitterness of your sorrow. Has not sin, since conversion, felt so loathsome? Has it not weighed down your soul until, like as Job wished he had never been born, so have not you wished almost, that you never had been converted? Ah, you might have to sit longer than seven days with your dearest friends before you could open your heart. You little expected to find that you were as bad as you find you are.

It may have been just so with my reader. The true believer dreads nothing so much as sin, and yet that which he most feared, yea, sin — to find sin, sin, sin, and to hate it, to fear it, to try hard to be entirely without it, and sometimes hope it is all gone, and still to find it turn up again, and to find oneself no better, it seems to take away all safety — no rest, no quiet, but, as it was with Job, trouble comes.

"Who told thee that thou wast naked?" says the Lord. Adam answers by accusing the woman, and God who had given her to him. Dastardliness always comes into the soul with sin. Adam wishes to excuse himself by lies, and to leave the fault and blame between his wife and God. He leaves to God the care of arranging the thing with the woman. Thus a bad conscience fears God too much to confess its sin, yet it knows too well that it has sinned to deny it. If you had full confidence in God, and were perfectly sure that God loves you, you would be very happy. But Satan is here; and his great power consists in producing distrust where there is happiness and intimate relation with God to destroy in our hearts. You trust your own will and your own efforts for your happiness; but, distrusting God, you will not, you cannot, confide to Him the care of this happiness, and leave yourself to His mighty love.