The death of Justice Antonin Scalia last week highlighted both the hell and the hope of our culture. All of us were shocked at the news. It is a rare occurrence when a member of the Supreme Court dies. Their role is so important; a death matters. But, as the news broke, I became more and more disgusted. I got a news alert on my iPhone for breaking news and immediately went online to see if I could get more details. I wish I had not queried the internet at all.

At the point I started looking, the major news outlets were not yet reporting. Everyone was quoting a news outlet in San Antonio, but had not confirmed the reports. Even before confirmation and details the political posturing began. I was amazed (and not in a good way) at how fast articles and blog posts popped up suggesting whether Justice Scalia’s replacement should be appointed by this president or the next. Within hours I saw comments and tweets from Washington leaders, and countless debates popping up on Facebook. It was as though if we were in a hurry to express our opinion lest the powers that be make a decision without our input.

I was overwhelmingly aware that we lost track of the simple reality of the moment: a human being had died. More accurately a

human being who has had a great deal of influence on our common life over the course of his career in public service. I don’t care whether you loved or hated the man, or more precisely, his rulings; he was a man who died unexpectedly, who now had a grieving family scrambling to get details like the rest of us. What is wrong with us as a society when we cannot even allow a day to pass in which to pay our respects before arguing over who will get the man’s gavel and who will get the chance to give it to him? Don’t get me wrong – I did have my own experience of considering the implications of Justice Scalia’s departure from the bench of our highest court when I heard the news. But I sat on my opinions and didn’t play the game out of respect for the man.

All was not lost, however. At a point when I was feeling pretty low about our ability to love others I stumbled upon the story that I hope will really stick with us as we move beyond Justice Scalia’s death: his friendship with Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Here are two Justices who were literally polar opposites on so many rulings, and yet they had a wonderful friendship that crossed the ideological void between them. We armchair legal types are so sure that we know the way the high court should rule on the cases before them that we demonize the justices who rule differently than we would. And yet Justice Scalia and Justice Ginsburg could find a way to enjoy time with each other and their families. There is a wonderful and sweet lesson in their friendship for all of us.

I’ve written before about the death of civility and the polarization and fragmentation of our culture. We are quickly forgetting to recognize one another’s humanity, and that is a dangerous place to find ourselves. Shame on us if we remember this man not for his legal mind and the service he gave his country but for the political leverage he granted our party in an election year. Love him or hate him, he was a brother in Christ, and should be valued as such. When Jesus says we should love our enemies, I think he could have used Justice Scalia and Justice Ginsburg as his parabolic example. They had every reason to hate one another, and yet they chose love; they chose to be and stay in relationship. I can only hope the rest of us can learn to do the same.

May Justice Scalia rest in peace and rise in glory, and may his family know the comfort of a loving God in their time of grief.

Tom+

Almighty God, who sits in the throne judging right: We humbly beseech you to bless the courts of justice and the magistrates in all this land; and give to them the spirit of wisdom and understanding, that they may discern the truth, and impartially administer the law in the fear of you alone; through him who shall come to be our Judge, your Son our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
BCP p. 821