We hear a gentle voice from deep within. The clear and insistent call will not be denied. It utters a command, a judgement of practical reason. This is conscience guiding, here and now, to the conduct that fits most fully human dignity and Christian calling.
"Conscience is our most secret core and sanctuary, where we are alone with God whose voice echoes in our depths. (Vatican Two, The Church in the Modern World). It is clear that this most precious faculty must be reverenced, protected and truthfully informed. Ignorance is always malice in those who, by their state of life, are bound to know and could readily attain to proper knowledge and truth.
At times, confusion clouds our vision. Ignorance or malice may poison the air we breathe. Cardinal Newman leads from obscuring to fullness of light: "Whether we ever heard the name of our Saviour or not, we have within our breast a certain commanding dictate (not a mere opinion or a view, but a law) bidding us to do certain things and avoid others. It commands. It praises. It blames. It promises. It threatens. It implies a future and it witnesses to the unseen. It is a message from Him who, both in nature and grace, speaks to us from behind a veil. Conscience is the original Vicar of Christ . . . " In stillness and prayer, we reflect on these healing words of wisdom. Guiding light will shine serenely in our personal darkness and we go forward in hope.
We agonise about moral choices. Strident voices, hostile to the Gospel and to human dignity, assail our ears. Not alone is Christian faith assailed, sanity is threatened. The Holocaust darkens forever the record of this century. Recently, in the land of Shakespeare, of the Brontes and of Newman, Cardinal Basil Hume led a procession of silent prayer through London streets. Why? To remember, n sadness and in shame, five million unborn babies slaughtered. For them no trumpets sound! All of us need renewal, cleansing and formation, as we pray for the gist of truthful conscience, properly informed. "Lighten our darkness, as evening falls!" Can this prayer ever be far from mind and heart?
As we obey the voice of conscience, we know true peace. When we ignore that call, we experience remorse and shame and the agony of betrayal. More tragic still is our desolation if we, in our blindness, have led others to reject the splendour of truth. Shakespeare sends a message never to be forgotten. Lady Macbeth felt that the call of conscience might easily be stifled: "A little water clears us of this deed." But choosing evil exacts a dire penalty: "Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No! This my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red." Desecration of conscience destroys the inner sanctuary of the person and leaves a personality in ruins. It is clear that when pride and prejudice, lust and greed, beckon with siren voices, our precious gift of conscience is in peril. Self-chosen blindness causes havoc in human life.
We open our Gospel pages. With the rich young man we approach the Redeemer. "Good Teacher, what must I do to possess eternal life?" Jesus, Good Shepherd and Divine Teacher, takes us by the hand, leads us safely from all darkness into the fullness of light: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life." In Him we become fully alive. In His will is our peace. "Stay with us, Lord Jesus, as evening falls. Be our companion on our way. In your mercy inflame our hearts, enlighten our conscience and raise our hope, so that united with your people we may recognise you in the Scriptures and in the breaking of bread, who live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God forever and ever." Lord that I may see!
(Conscience - 31pp, from the Irish Catholic Bishops' Conference, Veritas, June 1998 - is a clear and most valuable guide to all. No one should be without this map for the once-made journey.) F. MacN.