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Sermon by Henry G. Brinton

August 5, 2001

The Scrupulosity Sufferers

Colossians 3:1-11


Are you praying enough?

Are you praying correctly?

Have you thoroughly confessed all your sins? Are you rectified and completely reconciled to God and neighbor? Are you serving the Lord Almighty in the most proper and God-pleasing ways?

If you have any doubts, you're not alone. In fact, you may be like an Ohio woman named Susan, who found that her doubts began to take over in her late 20s. Her doubts -- which were obsessions, really -- came daily, nagging her relentlessly and causing her constant pain. "I'd kept it a secret from my children, from my parents and from my husband," she admitted to the Akron Beacon Journal. It's something she kept very, very private.

For Susan, sin was everywhere. And she was the first among sinners. Numero Uno. The one who most needed to confess ... again ... and again ... and again.

She figured she was the only one who had this condition -- viewing the world through a sharp and precise moral prism, seeing sin in every situation, and magnifying transgressions whenever they surfaced. But she was not alone. In fact, there are tens of thousands of people -- possibly hundreds of thousands of people -- who suffer from this very thing.

Then, on a Sunday morning in 1978, right there on the back of her church bulletin, was a description of her own personal obsession. And it had a name -- scrupulosity.

Yes, scrupulosity. Also called "the doubting disease," because you're never sure you're right about your decisions.

Scrupulosity, Susan learned, is an obsessive-compulsive disorder, one that straddles two worlds -- the clinical, fact-based world of medicine and the mystical, faith-based world of religion. It can be treated with medication, as well as with counseling and spiritual guidance. There is even a newsletter called "Scrupulous Anonymous," with a circulation of 13,000. Its editor, the Rev. Thomas Santa, describes scrupulosity as "a tender conscience" -- a condition in which everything becomes a sin, to the point that you're almost paralyzed. (Tracy Wheeler,

"Trapped By An Obsession With Sin," The Akron Beacon Journal, January 23, 2001, D4ff.)

At first glance, Paul's letter to the Colossians might seem like an invitation to scrupulosity. "Put to death," he commands, "whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed (which is idolatry). On account of these the wrath of God is coming on those who are disobedient" (3:5-6).
Yes, we've got to admit it -- we've been
disobedient.

But Paul's not finished. "But now you must get rid of all such things -- anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language from you mouth (v. 8).

Get rid of ALL such things, he thunders. Strip yourself of all such sleazy sins and polluting practices. Begin to live an authentic Christian life, removing from yourself all the trappings of your old life -- which for Paul himself included being "a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence" (1 Timothy 1:13). These Scriptures seem to play right into the scrupulosity that so many sufferers are struggling to escape. Don't do this, Don't do that. Watch out: the wrath of God is coming.

If truth be told, Paul may be suffering himself from a touch of scrupulosity. He readily admits that "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners -- of whom I am the foremost" (1 Timothy 1:15).

He's the "foremost" of sinners. The tip-top transgressor. The baddest of the bad.

That's serious sinfulness.

So, what does this mean for us? Are we to focus constantly on fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, greed, anger, wrath, malice, slander, abusive language, and lies? Are we to live a life of constant introspection, relentlessly obsessing over every one of our motivations, thoughts, words, and deeds? Is Christian living nothing more than avoiding a list of negatives?

Not at all!

Paul challenges us with the words: "Set your minds on the things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:2-3). Set your minds not on the temptations of this world, but on the joy of life with Christ, a life in which we are free to enjoy boundless compassion, kindness, love, peace, and gratitude. We can do this because we have been given a new and abundant life that is safe and secure and hidden with Christ in God. As Christians, we have actually died to this world -- died to what Paul calls "the elemental spirits of the universe" (2:20).

We are to focus on Christ, not on earthly entanglements. We are to grow in him, not in the passions of this world. Everything we do should be directed towards deepening our relationship with Jesus -- and if we do, then the dismaying and debilitating distractions of this world will slip away.

True story: For the longest time, I was scrupulous about always wearing my wedding ring. In fact, in fifteen years of marriage I had never taken it off. Never. Not once. It was a personal obsession. Needless to say, Nancy, my wife, seemed to appreciate it.

One day I was out walking our dog -- a big, lovable, squirrel-chasing mutt. I stopped to talk with a neighbor, and as we chatted I let the dog's leash hang loosely on my left hand.

All of a sudden, the dog spotted a squirrel and took off like a bullet. The leash caught on my wedding ring and -- SNAP! -- broke my finger.

Oh, the pain!

The finger swelled up around the wedding ring, and when I arrived at the hospital emergency room the doctor announced that he would have to cut off the ring. "Oh, no!" I protested. "I have NEVER removed my wedding ring. Never. You can't cut it off."

"Then you'll lose your finger," said the doctor, quite matter-of-factly.

Suddenly, I saw with crystal clarity what was truly important. It wasn't a perfect record of ALWAYS wearing a wedding ring, day and night, consistently and flawlessly for the whole of my marriage. No, what mattered was a vital, loving, and faithful relationship with my wife. And ten healthy fingers, if possible.

Off came the ring.

The same is true for our life with Christ. If we "seek the things that are above, where Christ is" (v. 1), then the things of this earth will take care of themselves. What matters is not a perfectly flawless record of avoiding sin, but instead a vital, loving, and faithful relationship with Jesus. We can be confident that those whose lives are hidden in Christ will quite naturally show signs of new and abundant life, and the patterns of the old and sinful life will quietly die away.

Our Lord does not want us to suffer from scrupulosity. He does not desire for us to become paralyzed by fear of doing or saying something blasphemous or sinful. Instead, he wants us to enjoy the glorious freedom of the children of God -- freedom to live in the boundless Christian love that binds everything together in perfect harmony (3:14).

So let us set our minds on the things that are above, not on things that are on earth. Our old selves have died -- and so can our earthly obsessions.

What's left is a life that is hidden with Christ in God, just waiting for us to discover it.

Let's now take a moment of Sabbath silence to allow God's word to take root in our hearts. Amen.