Some time ago I read in the paper that the United States Treasury has a "conscience fund," which was created for those who have lied, cheated or stolen, and who now wish to salve their consciences by returning to someone the money which they had gotten dishonestly. The "Conscience Fund" was established by Congress in 1811 when an anonymous donor who claimed to have defrauded the government sent five dollars to the Treasury Department. He said that he could not live with his conscience until he had paid the debt. This reminds me of the story of another gentleman who sent in some money to the Treasury saying that he had cheated on his income tax and wanted to make things right. And if his conscience continued to bother him, he said that he would send in the rest of the money he owed!

Conscience is, indeed, a strange thing. One can only wonder: Where does conscience come from, and what is it, anyway? Some people believe that conscience is "the voice of God." Others speak of it as the "still, small voice which tells us what is right and wrong." So universal is the concept of conscience that the Quakers often speak of it as the "inner light" that directs our lives. Socrates referred to conscience as "the wife from whom there is no divorce." And that eminent ethicist Huckleberry Finn, (according to Mark Twain,) said, "Conscience takes up more room than all the rest of a fellow's insides." John Milton saw conscience as sort of an "umpire," while Thomas Aquinas called it "the pedagogue of the soul." Lord Byron called it "the oracle of God," and I suppose that most people believe that conscience has something to do with God. "Just follow your conscience, and you will come out all right," they say. Thomas Paine proclaimed that " Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."

On the other hand, there is considerable evidence from psychology that our consciences are mainly the result of our early training and environment. Instead of being the voice of God, they are more likely to be the voice of our parents or of society. Early in life we discover that certain things which we do bring rewards, while other things bring punishments. And so we develop a "conscience" about certain things. In this view, conscience becomes sort of a gauge which warns us whether or not certain actions will be approved by our peers. In this case, conscience often becomes nothing more than the fear of being found out. H.L. Mencken said that "Conscience is a mother-in-law whose visit never ends," but he also said that "Conscience is the inner voice which warns you someone may be looking."

So: conscience is not the voice of God, many say; merely the voice of our environment. If we lived in a different environment, our morals and mores would be different. If we were raised by a tribe of headhunters, then the hunting of heads would be the right and moral thing to do. Conscience, according to this view, merely reflects the customs and prejudices of the part of the world in which we happen to live. And these customs change from environment to environment, and from time to time. So conscience is far from being a reliable guide.

Which view is correct? Is conscience the voice of God or the voice of society? Is it a reliable guide to conduct, or subject to the conditioning of the society around us? In other words, Is conscience the best guide? As Christians, we turn to Scripture for some guidance on this matter. The Bible affirms that there is that within us to which God can speak. We often call this "conscience." Whatever it is, it is this which seems to distinguish us from the rest of God's creation. The American poet Walt Whitman once stood looking at the calm contentment of a group of cattle. He tells us in one of his poems that he envied them because "They do not whine about their condition, they do not weep for their sins." Of course not; and that is what distinguishes us from cattle. We are motivated by conscience.

One of the primary things that distinguishes us from the animal kingdom is that we have a sense of "ought." No dog or cat awakens on Sunday morning and says to himself or herself: "I really ought to go to church this morning." Yet I would hazard a guess that thought went through the minds of millions of people this morning, whether they ever acted upon it or not. As human beings, we are not only confronted by what we are, but by what we ought to be; not only with what we do, but with what we ought to do. This sense of "oughtness" seems to be peculiar to the human animal. The German philosopher Immanuel Kant spoke of this sense of "ought" as the "categorical imperative," the moral law within" which, at times, molds and directs our lives. This inner law we call "conscience." I think that the Bible would tell us further that God can use this faculty called "conscience" for our highest good. There is that within every human being to which God can speak. As the poet put it,

Speak to Him, for He heareth,

And Spirit to spirit can speak;

Closer is He than breathing,

And nearer than hands or feet.

As human beings made imago Dei, in the image of God, we have the capacity to respond to the prompting of God. John Wesley often talked about something called "prevenient grace," which was his way of referring to the movement of the Holy Spirit of God in the hearts of people, turning them toward God and God's way even before they were aware of God's presence. We often speak of being tempted to do evil; I think that we can also be tempted to do good. I think that there are a million temptations to do good which come to us during a lifetime: a kind word which might be said, a kind deed which might be performed...but, unfortunately, we are pretty good at resisting these temptations. I believe that whenever we are tempted to do good - to do something unselfish and unself-serving, that is really God speaking to our innermost beings. Therefore, conscience is more than what some psychologists say it is. It is more than merely the sense of right and wrong which we get from our parents or from the society around us. Indeed, sometimes our consciences tell us to go against our parents and the society around us. Sometimes at great personal cost to ourselves. Socrates' conscience led him to accept death at the hands of the Athenians rather than compromise his conscience. Jesus' conscience led Him to a cruel Roman cross on a hill outside a city wall, rather than compromise His message. The early Christians' consciences often led them to death in Roman arenas because they refused to bow the knee to earthly principalities and powers. In obedience to their consciences they stood fast against the pagan rulers of this world and said, "We must obey God rather than any human authority." (Acts 5:29) Being disciples of Jesus Christ often puts us "out of synch" with many other people. Perhaps most of the time, following a Christian conscience means precisely opposite from following the social customs around us. A few years ago we heard a lot about the so-called "moral majority."

The fact of the matter is that majorities are rarely moral, and moral issues cannot be settled by a show of hands. As Mark Twain once said to a young people's society in a Presbyterian Church: "Always do right. This will gratify some people, and astonish the rest." Christians have found that it often angers the rest, and most of the heroes of the faith across the centuries received more than their share of thrown stones. But in obedience to their consciences, which had been formed by their fellowship with Christ, they stood fast to what they believed.

Having said that, however, I must go on to say that conscience is not necessarily a reliable guide. For one thing, it is possible for us to silence our consciences so that we no longer hear them. The Chinese have a saying that conscience is a triangle that turns within you every time you do wrong. Its sharp points hurt, but, if you pay no attention to the pain, after a while the sharp points wear off and it no longer makes you uncomfortable. It is possible for us to slap our consciences down when they make us uncomfortable, and to do this so many times that after a while the poor old things become so weak we no longer hear them. That is why Albert Schweitzer once said that: "A good conscience is an invention of the devil." What did he mean by that odd utterance? I think he meant that if we can face the world as it is with a completely clear conscience, and feel no guilt whatever for our participation-however small-in the things that cause the ills of our world, then we are in a very sorry spiritual state, indeed. That is why one of the tasks of the Church is to sensitize our consciences. The notorious safe-cracker Jimmy Valentine, it is said, used to sandpaper his fingertips to make them more sensitive to help him feel the tumblers fall into place as he robbed safes. Perhaps the task of the Church is to sandpaper our souls, to make them more sensitive to our own needs and the needs of our world. You may recall the old saying that the preacher's task is to "Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." Some years ago the National Advertising Council had an advertising campaign in which billboards were plastered across our nation with the slogan: "Go to Church on Sunday; It Will Make You feel better." Well, perhaps it will. When we are facing difficulties and trials, the Church is there to give us strength. But perhaps there are other times when it ought not to make us feel better at all; times when it tries to awaken our sleeping consciences. No, conscience is not necessarily a reliable guide, because sometimes it is simply asleep.

But it is also possible for our consciences to lead us astray in other ways. One of the individuals indicted in the infamous Watergate conspiracy confessed that what went wrong in his life was that he had lost his "ethical compass." The compass is an apt metaphor for the conscience. A compass can guide us, but it must first be set right. A few years ago I purchased a compass for my small sailboat. I then tried to follow the directions which came with it concerning how to set the thing properly. They told me to face north and then set a screw a certain way, and then face east and set it another way; and then to face south, and west and do the same thing. I did this in my car, and I prayed that I wouldn't get a ticket for driving so erratically. Then, after I had completed the whole endeavor, I noticed the small print on the directions: "Compass must be set in vehicle to be used in, for outside interference can cause distortion." Now that is great! How can I possibly set the compass in my boat when I have to have a compass in order to tell me just when the boat is pointing north, south, east, and west? Then I read the small print further: "Do not use a metal screwdriver to set the compass, for the magnetic field can be distorted by metal." Aha! A compass depends upon how it is set as to whether it is facing in the right and wrong direction! Some years ago there was a terrible tragedy at sea between the coasts of Ireland and Wales. A ship ran aground one night at full speed with loss of life. Investigators discovered that the wreck was not caused by pilot error, but it was discovered that someone who had cleaned around the compass made the mistake of slipping a thin knife blade into the compass box and a small piece of the knife blade had broken off near the compass needle. That little piece of metal was sufficient to deflect the needle only slightly, but it was enough to wreck the ship. What an analogy to the human conscience! If our consciences are off, then it is possible for us to think that we are steering the right course when we are actually heading for destruction.

This explains why so many wrongs have been done in obedience to conscience. Who was it that put Jesus to death on a cross, anyway? Oh, I know, the Roman soldiers committed the dreadful act. But who egged them on? The good, pious religious folk of Jesus' day; the good, respectable, law-abiding people who thought that by getting rid of this trouble-making rabbi from Galilee they were doing the will of God. Jesus warned them that such things would happen, you remember. He said, "They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, an hour is coming when those who kill you will think that by doing so they are offering worship to God."(John 16:2) Sometimes we say that it was "the Jews" who hounded Jesus to death; but when we do this, we forget that Jesus and all of the disciples were Jews, and that we would be more accurate if we said that "Some of the Jews hounded Jesus to the cross." Specifically, the religious establishment; and we might ponder the question as to how Jesus would fare with any religious establishment...even today. Some of the things He said make us uncomfortable, too.

The early Christians were persecuted by the Romans for proclaiming that Jesus was Kyrios - Lord, even above Caesar. They were persecuted by their own religious compatriots for claiming that Jesus was the long-expected Messiah. In each case they were persecuted by zealous folk who were obeying the dictates of their consciences - only their consciences were wrong! St. Paul is a case in point. Prior to his conversion he was a deeply religious man. He was following the dictates of his conscience when he persecuted the Christians...until Christ caught up with him on the Damascus Road and turned his life around. All of the rest of his life he was haunted by the terrible things he had done in his former life in obedience to conscience. Some of the worst crimes in all of human history have been perpetrated in obedience to conscience. The historian Lecky once said of the Spanish Inquisition: "Philip II and Isabella the Catholic inflicted more suffering in obedience to their consciences than Nero or Domitian in obedience to their lusts!" Terrible things have been done in the name of conscience. Not too many years ago some Christians claimed that they could hold slaves in good conscience - just think of the evangelistic opportunity! They could save the black man's soul while they enslaved his body. This brings us back again to Huckleberry Finn and his struggles with conscience. We need to complete the quotation above by remembering that Huck wrestled with his conscience about whether or not he should befriend Jim, the runaway slave. (His conscience told him not to befriend the slave, but turn him in to his masters for punishment because that was the popular thinking of the day.) So we must complete the rest of the quotation from brother Finn which I mentioned earlier. "If I had a yaller dog that didn't know more than a person's conscience does, I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person's insides, and yet it ain't no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same." (The Complete Works of Mark Twain, ed. by Charles Neider; Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1964, Vol. I, p. 921) Huck had to learn one of the most difficult lessons of life: sometimes you have to ignore your conscience and do what is right!

You see, what we really need is some objective standard of reference outside of conscience. Conscience is not necessarily a reliable guide. Someone has said that conscience is not the law, but is rather the policeman. It does not make the law, it enforces it. It can say to us: "Do right," but it cannot tell us what is right. For that, we must have some standard outside of ourselves. But where shall we go? How is it possible for us to tell right from wrong, if our consciences are so easily corrupted? I have found the following to be helpful:

Ethicist Joseph Fletcher sees conscience not as a faculty, but as a function. He says, "The traditional error lies in thinking about conscience as a noun instead of a verb. There is no conscience," he says. "'Conscience' is merely a word for our attempts to make decisions creatively, constructively, fittingly." (Situation Ethics, Phila.: The Westminster Press, 1966, page 53) "But," you may say, "We need help in making these decisions." I could not agree more. So let us look further. Years ago Harry Emerson Fosdick, who was pastor of Riverside Church in New York City, preached a sermon titled "Six Ways to Tell Right From Wrong." I have found it helpful, and therefore would like to pass on some of Dr. Fosdick's insights to you. Here are five of the six things Fosdick suggested:

1.) Submit the question to the test of common sense. (Note: This is more difficult than it sounds, for I have found that nothing is quite so rare as "common" sense.)

2.) Submit the matter to the test of sportsmanship. Ask yourself, "Is this the way I would like to be treated?" (Note: this sounds like the Golden Rule. However, most folks seem to observe a cynical version of the Golden Rule which says: "Those who have the gold, make the rules.")

3.) Submit the question to the test of your best self. "Does this check out with who I really am and I really stand for in life?" (Good question.)

4.) Submit the question to the test of publicity. Is this something I would be willing for other people to know.

5.) Submit the question to the test of your most admired personality. What would be his or her reaction to this?

6.) Submit the question to the test of foresight. To what other events or consequences is this likely to lead?

Well, there are Fosdick's points. As for me, I would come down heavily on number 5: "Submit the question to the test of your most admired personality. What would be his or her reaction to this?" My most admired personality is Jesus Christ. He is the One to whom I have committed my life. That is why I am here, today, preaching this sermon, and, I hope, why you are here, as well. St. Paul put it this way, "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus." (Phil 2:5) This, I think, is what we all need: to have our consciences directed by the mind and spirit of Christ. He is the true north for the compass of our souls.

Some years ago Charles Sheldon wrote a book titled, In His Steps. In that book he told about the revolution which occurred in the lives of a church and a congregation when the people decide to put every moral issue to the test of one question-"What would Jesus do?". Perhaps his book was a bit nave. We are not always sure of what Jesus would do in every situation. Many of the moral issues which we must face as we come to the end of the twentieth century were never part of His first-century world. Perhaps a better form of the question is: "Given what I know of the mind and spirit of Jesus Christ, what would Christ have me do?" I am confident that a revolution would follow if we were to ever really take that question seriously. But that is what we mean when we confess our faith that "Jesus Christ is Lord." "Lord," in the vernacular, means "Boss." What if Jesus Christ really were Boss around here?

Lloyd C. Douglas, the author of the famous book "The Robe," was pastor of First Congregational Church in Ann Arbor, Michigan, for many years. He once told the following story: During a period of discouragement, he visited a friend who was a music teacher. "What's the good word?" asked the preacher. The friend took a tuning fork, struck a note with it, and said, "That is A.' It was A' yesterday. It is A' today. It will be A' tomorrow. The soprano upstairs may warble off-key. The piano in the parlor may be out of tune. But that, my friend is A'!"

Well, my friends, for Christians, Christ is "A." I believe that he is "A" for the world, as well. He is God's plumb-line dropped down to the world against which we measure our lives and the life of the world. Is conscience the best guide? No, but Christ is. And He has come into the world to be Lord of our consciences. So let us make the words of John Greenleaf Whittier our prayer:

O Lord and Master of us all,

Whate'er our name or sign,

We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call,

We test our lives by Thine.