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Conscience

 

ConscienceA mother was helping her son with his spelling assignment and came to the words ‘conscious’ and ‘conscience’. When she asked him if he knew the difference between the two, he responded, “Sure, Mom, ‘conscious’ is when you are aware of something and ‘conscience’ is when you wish you weren’t.”

 

ConscienceThe conscience is like a sharp square peg in our hearts. If we are confronted by a questionable situation, that square begins to turn, and its corners cut into our hearts, warning us withy an inward sensation against doing whatever confronts us. If the conscience is ignored time after time, the corners of the square are gradually worn down, and it virtually becomes a circle. When that circle turns within our hearts, there is no inner sensation of warning, and we are left without a conscience.

 

ConscienceHave you recently flown on an airplane? Do you recall the ritual of walking through the electronic device to detect concealed weapons? “A marvel of modern technology,” you might think.

        Interestingly enough, centuries ago, one of the palaces of Chang-an, the ancient capital of what is now known as Thailand, had a similar device. Its gates were made of lodestone-a natural magnet. If a would-be assassin came in through the gate with a concealed dagger, the lodestone would pull at the hidden weapon like an invisible hand. Startled, the individual would involuntarily reach for the weapon. Trained guards, watching every movement, would then grab him.

        A healthy conscience acts in much the same way: it tugs at the concealed sins in our lives as though it were God’s hidden hand.

 

ConscienceThe Internal Revenue Service received the following letter from a conscience stricken taxpayer:

        “Dear Sir: My conscience bothered me. Here is $175.00, which I owe in back taxes.”

        There was a P.S. at the bottom that read: “If my conscience still bothers me, I’ll send in the rest.”

       This taxpayer’s response to a red warning light is not only humorous but also illustrates an important truth: one’s conscience can become insensitive.

 

ConscienceWhen Clare Boothe Luce, then seventy-five, was asked, “Do you have any regrets?” she answered: “Yes, I should have been a better person. Kinder. More tolerant. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and I remember a girlhood friend of mine who had a brain tumor and called me three times to come and see her. I was always too busy, and when she died, I was profoundly ashamed. I still remember that after fifty-six years.”