The Lie of Infinite Self-Knowledge

There’s an implicit belief in those of us with scrupulosity that we are all-knowing, or at least, that we can be. We don’t truly believe this. We know that we are finite creatures and that God alone is omniscient. But we functionally believe that we alone have a clear view of ourselves.

I see this all the time in my doubts about whether or not I’m saved. For as long as I’ve struggled with scrupulosity, those closest in my life have continually reaffirmed the Lord’s work in my life. They see my sins and evidence of grace, my weaknesses and my strengths, and their word is consistent: “You are saved.” Yet I am so quick to brush off this encouragement. They may see me on the outside, but they don’t know the thoughts I’ve had. I can’t take their word for it, because they don’t know me exhaustively.

This isn’t just the case with assurance of salvation, but also with doubts about even having scrupulosity. I have been professionally diagnosed with scrupulosity (which has been affirmed by those who know me and by myself), and yet I still frequently have the thought, “What if I don’t really have scrupulosity?” My doubts trump the wisdom of trusted friends.

I’m slow to take others’ words to heart because I think, “They can’t know me exhaustively.” And it’s true. They can’t. They’re not all-knowing, and they don’t understand every contour of my inner thoughts and feelings, actions and motives. But neither can I know myself exhaustively. When I think, “Others can’t know me exhaustively,” implicit in this statement is the belief that I, and I alone, have true insight into the complexities of my heart and mind. I start to believe that I can know myself exhaustively. But it’s also true that though self-knowledge and awareness is a good thing, it is limited. At some point, I must rely on others and, ultimately, God.

Doubting Your Doubt

It’s interesting that though scrupulosity is often referred to as “the doubting disease,” there’s one thing we consistently fail to doubt: our doubt.

When I have the thought, “Perhaps I’m not saved,” I don’t question it. In fact, I assume it must be true, and everything that seems to affirm this deep fear is taken as truth. This alone should be evidence to me that my thoughts and doubts are not wholly trustworthy. They’re not objective, but rather skewed in the direction of self-condemnation and negativity.

Here’s an example. I have met numerous people, mostly through this blog, who have honored me with sharing their stories of suffering from scrupulosity. And for every single one of them, I don’t doubt their salvation. I’ve never thought, “Oh man, that person sounds whack—they must not be saved.” The same arguments people use for me—“I see the fruit in your life; the fact that you’re worried about this means you’re saved; I have no doubt for you“—all ring true as I look at these individuals. And yet, it’s only for me that I doubt. Sure, they’re Christians, but me? Not likely.

When faced with stories so similar to my own, why do I affirm those people’s faith and so easily see evidence of grace in their lives, and yet so quickly dismiss such similar evidence in my own life? Why do I fail to doubt the very doubt which scrupulosity causes?

We have good reason to doubt our doubts (and, thus, good reason to question our own harsh perspectives of ourselves).

1. The “doubting disease” will always bring doubts to mind. This may seem simple or obvious, but it’s something I frequently forget: I have scrupulosity. I don’t know who first coined this term, but scrupulosity has been referred to as the “doubting disease.” There will always be more doubts. But that is the nature of scrupulosity, indicative of your suffering and not your heart. Remembering the struggle is a helpful first step in walking through it.

2. Our doubts don’t tell us the full story. Our doubts might rightly reveal sin in our lives, but they miss the sanctification. They rightly point out our need for Jesus, but they also infer that his grace is just beyond reach, unattainable.

3. Our doubts also don’t always tell us the true story. They see sin where there is none. They interpret areas of sin and weakness as evidence of our standing with God or our moral character. The narrative they paint is bleak, graceless, and Godless.

Our default is to believe what our minds are telling us. You might not be a Christian? Well, ruminate on that thought a bit and see if it rings true! (If you have scrupulosity, the negative will always ring true from your perspective.)

I’m not saying that you are completely untrustworthy and unreliable, or that you should devalue every thought you have. You are made in the image of God and, yes, most likely a Christian, so you have the means of grace to discern your actions. I’m merely encouraging you—all of us—to remember the nature of this struggle and to be aware of this negative tint to our perspectives. I also want to encourage us to give the same scrutiny to our doubts as we do to the matter our doubts are attacking. For example, if we are questioning whether we’re saved, we should question too the validity of that doubt. Just because we have a thought or doubt doesn’t make it right or true.

Trusting Others’ Judgment

So how do we know if a particular thought is true? After we identify that we’re struggling with scrupulosity and begin to doubt our doubts, there are two means by which we can weigh this.

The first is trusting others’ judgment of us. I think others can see in us things we fail to see in ourselves. It’s why we need people to confront us when we’re hardheaded and try to justify our unrighteous actions. It’s also why we need people to confirm and commend us when all we see is the negative.

This doesn’t mean they are always right. Just like you, the people in your life don’t see things fully or clearly. Yet we are called to rely on the body of Christ, and here is a very tangible way to rely on them.

Take to heart what others say about you. If someone who is godly and well-respected seeks to encourage you with the fruit they see in your life, hear them out. Give the same validity and weight to their perspective of you that you give to your own self-condemning perspective.

Trusting God’s Judgment

Ultimately, there is only One who sees us clearly. Our scrupulous perspective is skewed, others’ perspectives may be clearer but still incomplete, yet our Creator sees all and nothing slips his notice.

This might sound counterintuitive to you—it certainly does to me! Isn’t God’s judgment the very thing we fear? Isn’t that the very basis for our doubts, the thing we’re trying so desperately to avoid facing?

Yet our thoughts about God’s judgment are negative, too. What do we ultimately believe about God? Do we believe that he is quick to anger, ready to pounce as soon as we slip up, and eager to pour out his wrath? Or do we believe that he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (Exodus 34:6)?

Mike Emlet, who has written and spoken about scrupulosity at ccef.org, has referenced 1 Corinthians 4, and it’s been such a helpful idea that I’ll paraphrase his thoughts here. In this passage the apostle Paul writes that in the matter of his own faithfulness, “I do not even judge myself. For I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted” (vv. 3–4). He isn’t saying, “I don’t care, and it doesn’t matter.” He is saying that as far as his own self-knowledge goes, his conscience is clear. (Of course, our consciences are anything but clear when they erroneously accuse us all day long.) Yet Paul says, “It is the Lord who judges me.” Ultimate responsibility lies in the Lord’s hands. And when the Lord brings to light what is hidden and discloses the purposes of the heart (v. 5), what is it that Paul says? That each will receive his commendation from the Lord—not condemnation! This boggles my mind and blows up my often negative conception of God. God knows what is in man, yet since we are in Jesus, we will receive not condemnation, but commendation.

Regardless of where you stand with the Lord, whether you fear condemnation or expect commendation, this shows something about God’s heart. There is so much he could condemn us for. Yet he has condemned his own Son so that we may be commended. This is no trigger-happy, removed, exacting God.

We cannot have ultimate certainty. By choosing to devalue our scrupulous thoughts, we’re always taking a risk, and that risk can feel like death. But there’s no other way. We cannot attain certainty or full self-knowledge, and even if we could, our scrupulous minds would never be satisfied and would always come up with some other doubt.

This lack of certainty is another opportunity for us to turn to he who alone is all-knowing. When tempted to think that responsibility lies within ourselves, we remember that our safety lies ultimately in another. When we come to the end of what we can know about ourselves, our salvation rests in he who knows us perfectly and completely and yet still loves us.