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Moments of Conscience

History is filled with examples of people persecuted for acts of conscience. They aren’t limited to particular nationalities or cultures or genders. They’re simply individuals who feel or felt an undeniable obligation to be their best selves, regardless of the consequences. Some are standing up for what they hope will be a better world due to the spiritual evolution of the human race. Many died horribly at the hands of the ones their virtue exposed, because being called out for being less-than stings the pride. Some of the virtuous became famous—such as Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy, or the religious icons. Most were purposely forgotten to avoid challenging the current powers.

As we all recall from the Viet Nam War protests and long before, journalists have the ability to make protesters (peaceful or not) into rioters, an unruly mob, or a noble gathering of faith by the way the people are described. With no legal requirement for impartiality any longer, not everyone with access to mass media feels compelled to report honestly. The audience at home is free to choose the level of vitriol they prefer. They gravitate toward action and judgement. Judgement implies superiority that’s inevitably seductive. After all, objectivity in reporting doesn’t always pay. Truth-tellers can be vilified for making people uncomfortable. In fact, there’s big money in propaganda. Even followers violently attacking selfless peace officers sworn only to defend our own political leaders—while TV cameras recorded the unprovoked brutality—was an act successfully subject to spin.

Interestingly, this week the people of conscience featured in the news were two mature women. Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde simply spoke her heart in public on TV in front of opposing viewpoints, expressing the belief system to which she has dedicated her life. She requested kindness and compassion and was verbally chastised, perhaps deliberately endangered. To some, women seem to be convenient, vulnerable targets who should be forcibly controlled. Force, the weakest form of control, has gained fresh popularity and acceptance.

The other woman had been incarcerated, and she refused the pardon she was offered. Pam Hemphill is 71, an age when many begin questioning their choices in anticipation of the end of life. She isn’t afraid to confess she was guilty of acting on a bad idea—joining what she described as a cult. She acknowledged that her participation in the January 6th insurrection was contrary to American law. She insisted she wouldn’t accept a pardon that would contribute to gaslighting that promoted misinformation and would insult the Capitol Police, who lost much of what was good about their lives by doing their jobs.

Conscience isn’t always positive. It can be misguided and exquisitely cruel and often is because it’s a human expression and humans are malleable. But when it’s based on centuries of hard lessons about civility and the better nature of humankind, when it exposes the choice between merciless greed for power and an urge for loving community, conscience becomes the bird in the mine that’s charged with being an alarm for poison around us. The story of the boy George Washington confessing cutting down the cherry tree is a beloved myth told to American children.

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