When Spiritual Disciplines Took Over My Life

As a high schooler, I read my Bible for an hour or more each day, even if it meant waking up at 4 a.m. to have enough time. I taught Sunday school, read dozens of theology books, and organized fundraisers for nonprofits. I memorized Ephesians from start to finish. I kept an alphabetized prayer journal with requests from dozens of people, some of whom I hardly knew. I paid for strangers’ groceries, and I started conversations with strangers at parks, school, or the airport to try to witness to them. None of this comes naturally to me—I’d rather stay hidden in the crowd anywhere I go.

I don’t include this list to flaunt my spiritual track record but to highlight what was going on behind it. From the outside, I appeared to be thriving, but in reality, I struggled with a severe case of scrupulosity.

Scrupulosity can be jaw-droppingly deceptive. Spiritual disciplines are essential for growth, and we want to encourage one another to practice them. But there’s a difference between healthy spiritual practice and someone who’s struggling with OCD . Since the outward behaviors may be the same, we need to look below the surface to identify scrupulosity.

Inward Struggling

In Esther Smith’s book on intrusive thoughts, A Still and Quiet Mind , she lists the warning signs of someone struggling with scrupulosity:

• Doubts she’s truly saved
• Fears regarding specific sins, such as a fear of committing an unpardonable sin or grieving the Holy Spirit, or constant concern about whether certain thoughts or actions are sinful or not
• Intrusive thoughts related to blaspheming or angering God
• Fears related to specific verses in Scripture that talk about judgment, hell, or other difficult topics

Since scrupulosity is a form of OCD, those who struggle with it experience intense anxiety and fear over something (their “obsession”), and they attempt to cope with that fear by developing habits to help relieve it (their “compulsion”), although the relief is only temporary.

Common obsessions associated with scrupulosity, as listed by the OCD & Anxiety Center , are repetitive thoughts about having committed a sin, fear of offending God with one’s actions or attitude, fear of having blasphemous thoughts, fear of loss of impulse control, and fear of loss of salvation by sinning. Some compulsions to cope with these fears may be repetitive (or excessive) prayers, rereading text or prayers until it feels just right, repetitive (excessive) confession, and repeatedly asking the same questions to church leaders or family members (usually with a need for assurance of salvation or moral standing).

The International OCD Foundation points out that a person with scrupulosity can often be identified by the way she obsessively fixates on one (sometimes trivial) area of her religious practice, while other more important areas may be completely ignored. For example, I became overly concerned about the sin of gluttony, to the point I was afraid to have a snack if I didn’t truly need it, which resulted in disordered eating habits. Even a brief teaching on gluttony would consume my thoughts, while sermons about critical doctrines of the faith took little hold in my mind.

While there are some common indicators, scrupulosity can take different forms depending on the sufferer’s personality. Whereas I tried to cope with my anxiety by striving to measure up, I know others who tended toward doubt and despair because they recognized they couldn’t measure up. Verses like Mark 3:29 —“Whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness”—perpetually haunted them as blasphemous intrusive thoughts relentlessly circulated through their minds.

How to Help

Parents and church leaders tend to assume these struggles indicate weak faith or wrong theology. That can be a piece of the puzzle, but it’s rarely the whole picture when it comes to OCD. Like many others I know who struggle with scrupulosity, I grew up in a gospel-centered, Bible-teaching church, so I wasn’t necessarily being misled by legalistic teaching (although that can certainly spur on a case of scrupulosity). Instead, OCD filtered the truth I heard and twisted it.

When scrupulosity affected me most, it was actually harmful to receive praise for my devotion and example. I depended on that praise, but it only poured more fuel on the fire of my scrupulosity. It made me feel trapped, like if I didn’t keep up my spiritual disciplines and service, I wouldn’t be this “super Christian” anymore—and that had become my identity.

Additionally, I had a friend who suffered from despair over fearing she’d committed the unforgivable sin. Well-meaning people shared Bible passages to comfort her, but that brought an onslaught of shame because her paralyzing fears didn’t go away with Scripture’s truth like others expected they would.

What both of us needed in these situations was someone to offer compassion. We needed someone who entrusted our hearts to the Lord and listened—asking us to tell her more, praying for us, and not immediately trying to fix us.

Talking about how he’d spend an hour with someone struggling with doubt, Francis Schaeffer said , “I will spend the first fifty-five minutes asking them questions and finding out what is troubling their heart and mind, and then, in the last five minutes, I will share something of the truth.” This is what we need. Sometimes this person should be a licensed counselor, and that was who helped me. When OCD is involved, there can be major biological factors at play that need professional help.

The Christian Counseling and Educational Foundation (CCEF) offers helpful resources on scrupulosity and OCD, and CCEF-affiliated biblical counseling centers can be monumental in helping a person understand his brain, learn effective tools for calming his anxiety, and find freedom from the tyranny of compulsions.

The moral of the story is that the outwardly pious, content, and joyful church member can be struggling just as much as the cynical, depressed, and withdrawn one. Let’s pray for the Spirit’s help to see our brothers and sisters who are suffering, even if they don’t appear to be.

Kirsten Franze attended the University of Northwestern–St. Paul, where she earned a degree in English education and a minor in Bible. She taught for a couple of years and is now a health and fitness coach. She and her husband live in Woodbury, Minnesota, and are members of Cities Church in St. Paul.