Traditional Catholics and the Problem of Scrupulosity

Why are traditional Catholics so scrupulous?

You’ve probably noticed it if you’ve spent any time around us, whether in real life or even just on the internet. (Maybe especially on the internet.)

It’s a fact easily observed: traditional Catholics struggle disproportionately with scrupulosity—that is, the habit of seeing sin where there is no sin and of believing certain sins to be graver than they are. If, again, they’re even sins at all!

Scrupulosity manifests itself in various ways, visibly and invisibly, sometimes without obvious moral content. For example, on the louder end of the spectrum, there are “trad Catholics” who declare that dancing is a sin or, as a subtler example, who insist that every Catholic is required to believe in a literal six-day creation. 

In addition, though not as easily noticed, there are probably thousands, if not tens of thousands of individuals (to give a rough estimate) who are tormented day in and day out with a constant barrage of phantom sins and imaginary obligations. (If you, reader, are one of these individuals, know of my prayers! I know how difficult it can be.)

According to the wisdom of the saints—many of whom struggled with scruples—pride is at the root of scrupulosity. While scrupulosity is, of course, not sinful in itself, it nonetheless comes from a prideful disposition of trusting oneself more than others, including the Church. 

And I don’t think it’s too difficult to admit that as traditional Catholics we tend to have trust issues.

I don’t say that lightly. I understand—the world’s a mess. The Church is a mess. If it’s any consolation, none of this is particularly novel. Original Sin is a fact of life, and “knavish imbecility” (to quote Hilaire Belloc) has always been present in the hierarchy of Holy Mother Church. Nonetheless, it’s understandable that one would have trust issues because of all this—especially now, when the internet makes all of the ugliness in the Church more visible than it’s ever been.

It is easy to see, then, why traditional Catholics would be particularly susceptible to scrupulosity. A lack of trust in the leaders of the Church leads to a lack of trust in the teaching magisterium of the Church, which leads to an increased reliance on one’s own understanding, and therefore more often than not—scrupulosity. It is easy to see, then, why traditional Catholics would be particularly susceptible to scrupulosity.Tweet This

There is a comparison to be made here with Protestantism. In fact, Martin Luther himself was profoundly scrupulous. There are stories of Luther repeatedly returning to confession within a short time period because he didn’t believe that he was actually forgiven. He trusted himself more than the Church. It’s no wonder, then, that he ended up rejecting all authority except his own, behind the thin veneer of sola scriptura. 

If you follow Protestantism and the principle of sola scriptura to its logical conclusion, you end up alone, with only yourself to guide you. If you refuse help and follow scrupulosity to its natural end, you also end up alone. 

This is why the saints have recommended submission to the guidance of a spiritual director as the standard remedy for scrupulosity. This requires humility and obedience, virtues which are direct antidotes to pride. (Due to scrupulosity’s link with obsessive-compulsive disorder, professional help may also be needed. But you can still see how the same principle of submission to authority is at work here.)

Traditional Catholics, therefore, must tread lightly. We are often tempted to put ourselves in a precarious position of authority—trusting our own interpretation of Scripture, papal documents, and conciliar statements more than anything or anyone else, even the Church. This is what leads to blanket condemnations of innocent things like dancing. This is also what leads to us “adding to the deposit of faith” things like the strict literal interpretation of a six-day creation. 

Many other examples abound. Suffice it to say, there is a real danger to the scrupulous spirit of Traditionalism. Time has shown how it can lead to things like sedevacantism—the belief that there has not been a valid pope since (depending on whom you ask) Pius XII—which is really just a more complicated version of Protestantism. If the hierarchy effectively no longer exists, then you’re on your own; it’s up to you to interpret everything. 

So how should traditionalists avoid the pitfalls of scrupulosity? I’d like to offer a handful of practical suggestions. 

First, we should continue to familiarize ourselves with what the Church actually teaches. Many instances of scrupulosity are due simply to doctrinal misunderstandings. 

For example: the Church has never laid down specific requirements for modesty. You will not find a universally-promulgated document that tells women exactly how long their skirts must be. The standard practice of the Church is to give us general moral principles that we must then apply to particular situations. As the Catechism says, “modesty means refusing to unveil what should remain hidden” (a general principle) while acknowledging that specific forms of modesty “vary from one culture to another.”

Another practical guideline for avoiding scrupulosity that goes hand in hand with deepening our understanding of Church teaching is remembering to always take things within their proper context. Catholics who think dancing is a sin often cite certain quotations from saints—but you must take into account that usually those saints in question were priests and pastors, addressing a specific congregation (or individual) in a specific place at a specific time. 

Now, I may sound like I am contradicting myself, but too much study can also be dangerous. It is all too easy for scrupulous individuals to fall down endless rabbit holes and never come to a proper conclusion. 

The Church expects that we live in modo humano, “in a human manner.” Which brings me to my final practical suggestion: remember that you’re not God. You’re not expected to know everything or research everything perfectly. The magisterium exists for a reason.

Should we blindly follow authority? No. But we have to remember that the Church exists as a hierarchical institution. She is one, holy, catholic, and (particularly) apostolic. Hard as it may be in times of pervasive heterodoxy and degeneracy, we must submit to her leadership—to the Holy Father and especially to our local bishop. 

The magisterium is a living magisterium. This is the way that the Faith is handed down to us. This is what separates us from Protestants and sedevacantists. This is the antidote to scrupulosity. 

Can we still be confused? Can we still wrestle with certain disciplinary and doctrinal decisions? Absolutely. But we have to do so in a spirit of humility and obedience. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5-6).

For in the end, we are not the saviors of the world, as much as we might want to be. There is only one of those. The storms of life rage on, but having already won the final victory, He is sleeping peacefully in the Barque of St. Peter, desiring that we have a still greater trust in Him.