Hans and Sophie Scholl and Newman on Conscience

Although they were raised Protestant, both Hans and Sophie Scholl were highly influenced by Blessed John Henry Newman and his "theology of conscience." An associate of theirs, Theodor Haecker, was a scholar of Newman and had translated his works into German. When Sophie's boyfriend Fritz Hartnagel was deployed to the eastern front, she gave him two volumes on the sermons of Cardinal Newman, and his thought influenced Fritz as well.

Acting on conscience themselves, because they could no longer in good conscience fail to act against the Nazi regime, much of the purpose of the leaflets of the White Rose was an appeal to the conscience of the German people, to rouse them to stop ignoring that voice within them and instead, in obedience to that voice of truth and what is right and good, to resist the horrific evil in their midst.

On the Nature of the Conscience
Letter to the Duke of Norfolk
Blessed John Henry Newman
December 27, 1874

I must begin with the Creator and His creature when I would draw out the prerogatives and the supreme authority of Conscience.

I say, then, that the Supreme Being is of a certain character, which, expressed in human language, we call ethical. He has the attributes of justice, truth, wisdom, sanctity, benevolence and mercy, as eternal characteristics in His nature, the very Law of His being, identical with Himself; and next, when He became Creator, He implanted this Law, which is Himself, in the intelligence of all His rational creatures. The Divine Law, then, is the rule of ethical truth, the standard of right and wrong, a sovereign, irreversible, absolute authority in the presence of men and Angels.

"The eternal law," says St. Augustine, "is the Divine Reason or Will of God, commanding the observance, forbidding the disturbance, of the natural order of things." "The natural law," says St. Thomas, "is an impression of the Divine Light in us, a participation of the eternal law in the rational creature."

This law, as apprehended in the minds of individual men, is called "conscience," and though it may suffer refraction in passing into the intellectual medium of each, it is not therefore so affected as to lose its character of being the Divine Law, but still has, as such, the prerogative of commanding obedience. . . . this law is the rule of our conduct by means of our conscience. Hence it is never lawful to go against our conscience; as the fourth Lateran Council says. . . .

This view of conscience, I know, is very different from that ordinarily taken of it, both by the science and literature, and by the public opinion, of this day. It is founded on the doctrine that conscience is the voice of God, whereas it is fashionable on all hands now to consider it in one way or another a creation of man.

Of course, there are great and broad exceptions to this statement. It is not true of many or most religious bodies of men; especially not of their teachers and ministers. When Anglicans, Wesleyans, the various Presbyterian sects in Scotland, and other denominations among us, speak of conscience, they mean what we [Catholics] mean, the voice of God in the nature and heart of man, as distinct from the voice of Revelation. They speak of a principle planted within us, before we have had any training, although training and experience are necessary for its strength, growth, and due formation. They consider it a constituent element of the mind, as our perception of other ideas may be, as our powers of reasoning, as our sense of order and the beautiful, and our other intellectual endowments. They consider it, as Catholics consider it, to be the internal witness of both the existence and the law of God. They think it holds of God, and not of man, as an Angel walking on the earth would be no citizen or dependent of the Civil Power. . . .

Conscience is not a long-sighted selfishness, nor a desire to be consistent with oneself; but it is a messenger from Him, who, both in nature and in grace, speaks to us behind a veil, and teaches and rules us by His representatives. . . .

Words such as these are idle empty verbiage to the great world of philosophy now. . . . We are told that conscience is but a twist in primitive and untutored man; that its dictate is an imagination; that the very notion of guiltiness, which that dictate enforces, is simply irrational, for how can there possibly be freedom of will, how can there be consequent responsibility, in that infinite eternal network of cause and effect, in which we helplessly lie? and what retribution have we to fear, when we have had no real choice to do good or evil?

So much for philosophers; now let us see what is the notion of conscience in this day in the popular mind. There, no more than in the intellectual world, does "conscience" retain the old, true, Catholic meaning of the word. There too the idea, the presence of a Moral Governor is far away from the use of it, frequent and emphatic as that use of it is. When men advocate the rights of conscience, they in no sense mean the rights of the Creator, nor the duty to Him, in thought and deed, of the creature; but the right of thinking, speaking, writing, and acting, according to their judgment or their humour, without any thought of God at all. They do not even pretend to go by any moral rule, but they demand, what they think is an Englishman's prerogative, for each to be his own master in all things. . . .

Conscience has rights because it has duties; but in this age, with a large portion of the public, it is the very right and freedom of conscience to dispense with conscience, to ignore a Lawgiver and Judge, to be independent of unseen obligations. . . . Conscience is a stern monitor, but in this century it has been superseded by a counterfeit. . . . It is the right of self-will.

The Testimony of a Good Conscience
Sermon of Blessed John Henry Newman

"Our rejoicing is this: the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have conducted ourselves in the world, and especially toward you." (2 Cor. 1:12)

In these words, the great Apostle appeals to his conscience that he had lived in simplicity and sincerity, with a single aim and an innocent heart, as one who was illuminated and guided by God's grace. . . .

And so also speaks St. John: "If our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence towards God." (1 John 3:21) Such was the confidence, such the rejoicing of St. Paul and St. John; not that they could do anything acceptable to God by their unaided powers, but that by His grace they could so live as to enjoy a cheerful hope of His favor, both now and evermore.

The same feeling is frequently expressed in the Psalms: a consciousness of innocence and integrity, a satisfaction in it, an appeal to God concerning it, and a confidence of God's favor in consequence. . . .

What the text means by "simplicity and sincerity," I consider for all practical purposes to be the same as what Scripture elsewhere calls "a perfect heart." . . . A man serves with a perfect heart, who serves God in all parts of his duty; and, not here and there, but here and there and everywhere. . . .

Now then to attempt to describe that state of heart, which Scripture calls simple and sincere, or perfect, or innocent; and which is such, that a man may know he has it, and humbly rejoice in it.

We are by nature what we are; very sinful and corrupt, we know. . . . God alone can change us; God alone can give us the desires, affections, principles, views, and tastes which a change implies: this too we know. . . . What then is it that we who profess religion lack? I repeat it, this: a willingness to be changed. . . . We do not like to be new-made; we are afraid of it; it is throwing us out of all our natural ways, of all that is familiar to us. . . .

But when a man comes to God to be saved, then, I say, the essence of true conversion is a surrender of himself, an unreserved, unconditional surrender; and this is a saying which most men who come to God cannot receive. They wish to be saved, but in their own way; they wish (as it were) to capitulate upon terms, to carry off their goods with them; whereas the true spirit of faith leads a man to look off from self to God, to think nothing of his own wishes, his present habits, his importance or dignity, his rights, his opinions, but to say, "I put myself into Your hands, O Lord; make me what You will; I forget myself; I divorce myself from myself; I am dead to myself; I will follow Thee." . . . These are words worthy of one who was to be to after-ages the pattern of simplicity, sincerity, and a pure conscience. . . .

Men who are quite honest, who really wish to surrender themselves to Christ, have counted the cost. They feel it is no slight sacrifice which they are making; they feel its difficulty and its pain; and therefore they cannot make an impetuous offer of their services. They cannot say, "Lord, I will follow You wherever You go"; it is too great a profession. . . .

[In many ways,] men serve God, but do not serve Him with a perfect heart, or "in simplicity and sincerity." And in explaining what I consider Scripture to mean by perfectness of purpose, I have explained also in a measure how it is that a person must know if he has it. For it is a state of mind which will not commonly lie hid from those who are blessed with it. . . . when God prevails on a heart to open itself to Him, and admit Him wholly[, there] is a perceptible difference of feeling in a man, compared with what he was, which, in common circumstances, he cannot mistake. . . . what a difference is this! what a plain perceptible change, which cannot be mistaken! what a feeling of satisfaction is poured over the mind! what a sense that at length we are doing what we should do, and approving ourselves to God our Saviour! . . .

Perfectness of heart, simple desire to please God, "a spirit without guile," a true and loyal will, where these are present, faith is justifying; and whereas those who have this integrity will more or less be conscious of it. . . . really religious persons will commonly enjoy a subdued but comfortable hope and trust that they are in a state of justification. . . . if they be really perfect in heart, there will be this secret sense of their sincerity, with their reason or against reason, to whisper to them peace. And on the other hand, it never will rise above a sober trust, even in the most calm, peaceful, and holy minds. . . .

It may be objected, that, if the feeling of a good conscience be the evidence to us of our justification, then are persons in a justified state who are external to the Church, provided they have this feeling. I reply briefly [that] any man who has really the testimony of a good conscience is acting up to his light, whatever that is. This does not, however . . . determine what his light is; nor what degree of favor he is in. . . .

Let us then, since this is our privilege, attempt to share in St. Paul's sincerity, that we may share in his rejoicing. Let us endeavour to become friends of God and fellow-citizens with the saints; not by sinless purity, for we have it not; not in our deeds of price, for we have none to show; not in our privileges, for they are God's acts, not ours; not in our Baptism, for it is outward; but in that which is the fruit of Baptism within us, not a word but a power, not a name but a reality, which, though it can claim nothing, can beg everything —- an honest purpose, an unreserved, entire submission of ourselves to our Maker, Redeemer, and Judge. Let us beg Him to aid us in our endeavour, and, as He has begun a good work in us, to perform it until the day of the Lord Jesus.

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Next: The Leaflets of the White Rose - "We will not be silent. We are your bad conscience. The White Rose will not leave you in peace!"

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