“We must distinguish between commands of God and rules we make for ourselves in light of God’s commands.” — Andrew Naselli

Recently, Christianity Today published a piece on the use of Zyns—nicotine pouches that are all the rage right now, especially among younger Christians. It raised concerns and encouraged refraining from using Zyns because they are “subtle, efficient, and enjoyable” and (the implication seems to be) therefore idolatrous and sinful. That’s where the trouble begins.

Because if subtlety, efficiency, and enjoyment are enough to deem something dangerous, then coffee, tea, a good hobby, a long run, or even a strong marriage are (or should be) equally suspect. These qualities don’t make something sinful. They just make something pleasant.

I’ve no desire to defend Zyns or even focus on them. The problem I want to point out isn’t about Zyns—or coffee or CrossFit or cigars—it’s about conscience binding.

When Personal Convictions Become Public Commands

To bind someone’s conscience is to require of them what God has not. It’s adding to his word and demanding others obey our curated law. This is the very evil Jesus condemned the Pharisees for: “teaching as doctrines the commandments of men” (Mark 7:7).

The Law of God isn’t Jazz. We don’t get to improvise it. Ten commandments are enough. We don’t need eleven. Or twelve.

Some here may say, “But what of addiction?” and they’d be absolutely right to identify addiction as a problem. But, what is addiction? Addiction, for the Christian, is when something has gained such power over us that is causes us to obey it rather than Christ. However, as the article seems to imply, enjoying something regularly and even deeply is not addiction. If that were true, we’d be forced to confess sin every time we brewed our morning coffee or returned to our favorite jogging trail.

The danger in articles like these is not that they raise concern—it’s what kind of concern they raise. They shift the conversation away from the heart and toward the object, making enjoyment itself seem suspect. That’s a different law. A quieter one. A subtler one. But way more deadly and damning than Zyns – or any other enjoyment – could ever be.

“For Me, It Was Bad”: The Wisdom of Personal Conscience

One of the best phrases to emerge as I talked about this piece with others was: “I felt that for me it was bad.” That’s the language of conscience. That’s wisdom. That’s humility. Because what might be unwise for me isn’t necessarily sinful for you.

As Paul reminds us in Romans 14, each of us will stand before the judgment seat of God, and we are not to pass judgment on one another in matters where Scripture is silent. As Andy Naselli wisely says in his excellent little book on the conscience: “It is possible to have strong convictions without insisting others adopt them.”

When you say, “I don’t use Zyns because for me they’re not helpful,” that’s Christian maturity. When you say, “You shouldn’t use Zyns because I don’t,” that’s adding to God’s law. That’s legalism. And legalism always ends in spiritual pride, division, and bondage.

Legalism Doesn’t Produce Holiness

Over the years, I’ve seen this kind of confusion play out again and again. I’ve known teetotaling fathers who denounce all alcohol as sinful, yet show no restraint in their harsh, controlling posture toward their families. I’ve watched believers condemn any use of tobacco while indulging in sugar and soda to the point of chronic health issues caused by gluttony and lack of self-control. Others gossip freely, sow division, and bind consciences—all while claiming to be calling out the great sins of others who have violated their personally crafted Temu Law. In their zeal for righteousness, they act unrighteously. In naming the sins of others, they sin greatly themselves. As Alanis Morissette once asked, “Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?”

In my experience as a pastor, those who enjoy things like tobacco, Zyns, or alcohol in a godly and self-controlled way are often a blessing to the church. They show us what Christian liberty looks like: enjoying God’s good gifts with gratitude and restraint. But those who craft 11th and 12th commandments and demand others obey them pose a great danger—both to themselves and to the body of Christ.

Because here’s the sober truth: When we create laws God didn’t, we often grow comfortable breaking the ones He did.

Loving God and Doing What We Please

Here’s a better way forward: The Christian life is about loving God and doing what we please. Augustine famously quipped, “Love God and do what you will (Dilige et quod vis fac) because those who truly love Him will want to do what pleases Him. And what pleases Him is not just abstaining from bad things but enjoying good things rightly, with gratitude, moderation, and freedom.

So yes, avoid addiction to anything or anyone that makes you disobey Jesus and fail in your responsibilities. Let’s examine our habits and their effects love of God and neighbor. And let’s be careful not to label permissible things as sinful just because we personally dislike them or come from a culture that frowns on them. That’s not holiness. That’s not discernment. That’s just pride in a spiritual disguise.

We are not saved by Christ only to be shackled by man. Let’s help one another live in joyful, wise, and Spirit-led liberty—neither indulging sin nor binding the consciences of others, but walking together in love.

If you’re interested in thinking more deeply about conscience and Christian liberty, I recommend Andy Naselli’s short but excellent book: Conscience: What It Is, How to Train It, and Loving Those Who Differ.