Rector’s Reflections
Wednesday 29th January 2025
Why Thomas More Matters
In yesterday’s reflections, I shared a brief outline of the life of Sir Thomas More, who was executed for High Treason in 1535. He was executed because he refused to compromise on the question of papal supremacy. Henry VIII was determined to be head of the church in England. Thomas believed that the pope was head of the church, and he was not willing to compromise on this belief. His conscience prevented him from swearing the required oath renouncing papal supremacy, and this lead almost inevitably to his execution for high treason. Thomas knew what would happen, but he felt that his conscience left him no choice. His conscience was telling him to defy the King in the matter of the required oath, and that was that.
I wonder if, as Christians, we pay sufficient attention to what our conscience might be telling us? Are we prepared to take a stand on a matter of principle, and pay the cost of doing so? Sometimes, following our conscience might lead us to lose friends and popularity, and the hope of promotion within an organisation. Sometimes following our conscience will have significant financial implications. And sometimes it might even have legal consequences, and we might face the prospect of punishment or even imprisonment.
Some Christians seek to downplay the significance of matters of conscience, and there are good reasons to do so.
We can easily deceive ourselves, and think that we are being led by our conscience whereas in fact we pursuing some other agenda: is it our conscience speaking ,or is it simply our ego?
Some would maintain that our conscience is only binding upon us when it is a “well-formed” conscience, and if this is indeed the case, who decides whether or not a conscience is “well-formed”?
And whether or not our conscience might be considered to be “well-formed”, there would be those who argue that following our conscience is profoundly selfish. It assumes that we have the right to make our moral decisions by ourselves, without considering the impact of our decisions on our friends and families, and on the wider community. Sir Thomas More was married and had a family. He had friends, too. I wonder what his family and friends thought about his decision to follow his conscience and defy the King, even though this almost certainly meant that Thomas would be executed for his act of defiance? Was Thomas simply being selfish? Was he also engaging in an act of spiritual pride, making a dramatic display of his holiness so that everyone else could see how he was a man of principle whereas all the other courtiers were moral weaklings?
So the fact that some Christians make a point of saying that they are following their conscience on a particular matter is not necessarily as straightforward a claim as it might seem. Are really following their conscience? Is it a “well-formed” conscience? Is all this talk of the conscience actually a cloak for selfishness and spiritual pride?
And yet there is indeed something called a conscience, and we all recognise its importance. It is normal for us to listen to our conscience, and to give it due weight in our decision making. There might be times when our conscience is telling us to one thing, but we weigh this against other considerations, and on balance we decide to do something which goes against our conscience. We might feel uneasy at doing so, but it is does not necessarily mean that a decision which goes against the dictates of our conscience is therefore a bad decision. It might be best decision available to us given the information we have and the options we feel are currently available to us.
The life of Thomas More reminds us not to forget the importance of conscience when it comes to making moral decisions. It does not mean that we shall always have to do what our conscience tells us, because much depends on the circumstances, and it may be right for us to give greater weight to other relevant considerations. Complex moral choices rarely have easy answers. But it is always worth listening to what our conscience might be saying to us, however “well-formed” that conscience might happen to be.