Mercy

As I sit here in Starbucks, studying and sipping my hazelnut latte, I cannot help but take a moment to reflect up those outside of this brick building, those who cannot afford a warm meal, let alone a four-dollar drink. On my way here, I passed by a harried, middle-aged woman, clearly out of her mind, who was wailing to the sky about someone who had failed her. I thought Berkeley had made me fairly seasoned in coping with encounters with the homeless and mentally ill, but D.C. reaches a whole new magnitude. In my last post, I referenced the lawyer in Luke's Gospel who asked, "And, who is my neighbor?" This is a question with which I struggle in this city. As I passed the wailing woman, a man walking near me commented with a Southern accent, "Bless her heart," and smiled at me with sad eyes. I nodded and smiled back wanly, furrowing my brow as I grappled with feelings of guilt and compassion toward the woman.

I would love to reach out to her, but, frankly, I don't want to put myself in harm's way. Since I moved to D.C., homeless people have scowled at me, yelled at me, sworn at me, made sexual advances toward me, slapped me on the butt, and one old woman even struck me on the back. In Berkeley, I felt comfortable going up to homeless people to give them food or change, or even to ask if I could pray for them, but here I don't even feel safe making eye contact. How do I show mercy toward someone of whom I am afraid? On the streets, I pray silently for the needy people that I see, but I wish I knew how else to help. Is it wrong to protect myself instead of reaching out to them? It makes me feel hypocritical, but I don't know what else to do.

Stickler

Erin had a great post yesterday about Luke's Gospel, in which she mentioned Jesus' interactions with lawyers.

It's interesting that she should bring up the New Testament lawyer references... The homily at Georgetown Law's chapel on October 26 addressed this, actually, since the Gospel reading was Matthew 22:34-40, in which a "scholar of the law" asks Jesus, "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?" As a part of his homily, Fr. Alexei read us the synoptic passage in Luke 10:25-37 (because it is a little more detailed), joking that Jesus acted exactly like a law school professor. When the lawyer asked Jesus a question, Jesus presented a hypothetical situation, and then made the lawyer answer the question himself. That is exactly what we do here in law school.

Granted, when the New Testament refers to "scholars of the law," they mean the scribes well-versed in Mosaic law, not lawyers as we understand them today, but whenever I read a verse that vilifies lawyers, it nonetheless makes me hesitate. I mean, even when I was young, one of the facile conclusions that I reached about the Bible was, "Thank God I'm not a scribe or a Pharisee! They do everything wrong!" Now, I understand that I need to look more closely at the attributes of scribes and Pharisees to analyze whether I am making the same mistakes.

So, what is it that lawyers do wrong? As Erin referenced, Jesus explains this in Luke 11:45-46, 52-54:

Then one of the scholars of the law said to him in reply, "Teacher, by saying this you are insulting us too." And he said, "Woe also to you scholars of the law! You impose on people burdens hard to carry, but you yourselves do not lift one finger to touch them. [...] Woe to you, scholars of the law! You have taken away the key of knowledge. You yourselves did not enter and you stopped those trying to enter." When he left, the scribes and Pharisees began to act with hostility toward him and to interrogate him about many things, for they were plotting to catch him at something he might say.

In short, lawyers are sticklers. Lawyers use pedantic interpretations of the law to manipulate the world around them, helping themselves and hurting their opponents. And, sure, I'm only a law student, maybe I don't have any culpability--yet. But, I'm being trained in the art of exploiting language to my advantage, and that has dangerous implications. I looked up "legalist" in the OED, and the second definition is "a stickler for legality." "Legality," in turn, is defined as "attachment to or observance of law or rule." I think that is the danger against which Jesus is warning--attachment to the law as it is written, above justice, above mercy, above God. Indeed, the OED's first definition for "legalism" is the theological one: "applied reproachfully to the principles of those who are accused of adhering to the Law as opposed to the Gospel" (emphasis added). The challenge of a lawyer, then, in the words of my my mother, is to "use your power for good, not evil." Amen.

Your Friend Forever

"My guest tonight wants to help underprivileged kids go to college. Well, if they major in English, they'll become underprivileged adults."
- Stephen Colbert (season 4, episode 157)

Harsh words, Mr. Colbert--especially coming from a theater major! I thought you would have more respect for those of us in the humanities, particularly in light of your honorary Doctorate of Fine Arts, but I guess I was wrong. I'm not going to lie, Stephen, I'm a little disappointed in you.

In other news,

I survived my first law school final exam! Huzzah!

It wasn't that bad, to be frank. The questions were fair, I was capable of answering the questions, and no major disasters transpired. It was a good way to start off final exam season. My Torts professor is so sweet, by the way. He's one of those older professors who reminds you of your favorite grandparent. At the end of a handout that he gave us going over the exam instructions, he wrote, "Have a great holiday after. Feel free to contact me in future years if I can be of any help at all. -- Your friend forever, Paul." My friend forever?! Could he be any nicer? I think not.

Anyhow, I am ten days and two exams away from winter break, my family, and everything that I miss about California! :-) Now, time to study some Constitutional Law.

‘Twas the Night Before Torts

‘Twas the night before Torts, when all through Georgetown
Not a first-year was sleeping, for none could calm down;
The outlines were reviewed by the students with care,
In hopes that comprehension soon would be there;
The 1Ls were weary, their hearts filled with dread,
While visions of negligence danced in their heads;
And mocha in hand for a practice exam,
I had just settled down to frantically cram,
When out in the quad there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
And pulled up the blinds with a thunderous clash,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of Gewirz! to the Capitol Mall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
Then they, to my awe, met my burden of proof
With the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
I felt in my heart a new hope abound.
Up the elevator St. Nicholas came with a grin,
And knocked on my door—he made quite a din!
As he walked in, the consent was implied;
No trespass to land was intended or tried.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And completed my outlines; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, he allayed all my woes;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew as though by judge’s dismissal.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy studies to all; may your errors be slight!”