Dr Brian Lewis is one of Australia’s
most eminent moral theologians. He is a graduate of the Angelicum and the Alphonsian Academy in Rome and formerly lectured in moral theology in Ballarat and Melbourne. Prior to retirement he taught scripture, theology and ethics on campuses of the present Australian Catholic University. He has contributed articles to many journals and reviews. Email: blewis130@gmail.com |
Moral
Perspectives - The articles at
this link are part of an ongoing series written by Dr Brian Lewis which
explores understandings of conscience and morality in the Christian
tradition. Deeper insights into the Scriptures and church traditions open
up new possibilities in ecumenical and philosophical thinking in the
search for a more comprehensive moral worldview. Brian's previous articles |
April 23, 2012 Brian Lewis, Ballarat, Australia Brian's previous articles
CONSCIENCE
AS WISDOM OF THE HEART
It is easy to make morally good
moral choices or decisions now and then. Anybody can do
this, even evil-minded persons or people with no moral sense. But to do
this consistently and meaningfully, we have to be tuned in to the basic human
goods and values that are necessary for living in a community in a loving way.
We have to be attracted to these human values and be disposed to make them a
reality. This is what is meant in being a morally good or virtuous person, one
who by education and training and experience of life has become habituated to
respond positively to these values. The permanent dispositions to respond to
them, adhere to them and realise them in our moral judgments, are what we mean
by moral virtues.
But something more is needed in
addition to these moral virtues. We may have the virtue of generosity, but in a
particular situation we may have to decide what particular generous action is
called for here and now. For instance, giving alms to a beggar is normally an
appropriate response to a needy person, but if we are fairly sure the recipient
in this case will use the gift to get drunk or to seduce someone we have to
weigh up the pros and cons of making
the donation or at least making this particular kind of donation. Circumstances
can change the meaning of things we do, as we well know. So we need to be not
only generous but also perceptive. We need to be able to discern what should be
done in this specific situation in order to be generous, or just, or patient, or
courageous, in other words virtuous in the way called for in the situation.
We need, then, a moral virtue of
discernment , of responsibility, of 'common sense', or what
I like to call wisdom of the heart.
This virtue has been called 'the eye of the virtues'. It is the good disposition
that directs us rightly in the pursuit of courage, generosity, patience. It
enables us to form a right conscience about the way to go in the situation. It
ensures that we always seek the truth in our judgments of conscience and that we
do not rush into or back off from difficult situations.
It lights up for us the path ahead and pushes us along it through the
thickets of reflection and deliberation about the situation and its attendant
circumstances, so that finally we see and choose the good and right way of acting.
This is the moment of decision of conscience. It is for us the moment of
decision.
Wisdom of the heart directs us in
forming a right conscience. We cannot be said to have a right conscience when
our decision rests merely on the basis that this is 'what everybody else is
doing'. Nor is it enough to reason on the common view that such and such a
course of action is discriminatory and contrary to human rights without
examining all the ramifications of the issue. A right
conscience means that we have done our best to be good persons and taken the
appropriate steps to inform ourselves about the course of action proposed: the
relevant facts, the motivation, the surrounding circumstances, the alternatives.
The decision we then reach is subjectively right. This is for us the right thing to do. But this does not mean
that what we decide upon is always objectively
correct. We may in some cases be objectively mistaken. In the complexity of life
we may sometimes have to be content with a considered opinion about the matter
without being perfectly sure that we have the objectively correct answer. We
have a right conscience when our level of certainty rules out a reasonable
fear of being wrong. In the light of our human condition, that is in some
cases the most we can hope for.
The decision of conscience I have
outlined is not a deduction from moral principles nor is it merely an
application of moral laws. It is not an inference process at all. It is a
discernment process leading to the conviction that this is for me the right
course to be followed here and now in view of the moral value at stake. And,
since it is a decision of conscience, it is binding upon us.
It sometimes happens that upon
further reflection we come to the realisation that our conscience decision is in
error. Our obligation then is to correct it as far as we can. If this is out of
the question for us, our decision of conscience, whether or not it is
objectively in error, lays an obligation upon us first of all not to flout it.
Aquinas offers a couple of startling examples to illustrate this point. Not to
have extramarital sex, he says, can be mistakenly seen as a bad thing. In this
case a person does the wrong thing in refraining from it, because such a person
is prepared to choose what is seen as evil. For the same reason it would be
morally wrong for someone to believe in Christ when to do so is thought to be a
bad thing.
If, however, our objectively
mistaken conscience decision which we are unable to revise carries a positive
obligation to follow it, what we do is in practice morally good and meritorious,
because it is a loving act proceeding from our wisdom of heart. In the words of
Vatican II, 'Conscience frequently errs from invincible ignorance without losing
its dignity' (Gaudium et Spes, n.16).
It does not lose it because its dignity is not first of all conformity with
objective laws, but the dignity proper to the human person, namely to engage
freely in a sincere search for the moral truth of his/her situation. Only when
this personal dignity is lost does conscience lose its dignity. In the same
paragraph the Council adds: 'The same cannot be said of one who cares but little
for the search for truth and goodness, or of a conscience whch by degrees grows
practically sightless as a result of a habit of sin'.
Brian Lewis, Ballarat, Australia