Friday, October 11, 2024

When You Are Young, And Foolish, And Full Of Yourself…

 I gave a fair number of sermons in my brief but unspectacular career as a pastor. I was proud of a lot of them (wrongly so); sure that I had the poetic touch and that my words, so carefully crafted, would echo in hearts within the sound of my voice, and live long and prosper. 

As if.

I got positive feedback on my sermons precisely three times. One was a response to my words that took something I never intended;, and found a lesson there. But that was okay, it was a good response. From that I learned humility, that what I said was not what everyone would hear (i. e., I was not in control).

The second was a review by a professional actor (a real one, the brother of a church member, at a Xmas service), who admired my performance. More ego stroking than I needed; but still, it was nice.

Those were both while I was in seminary. The third was after ordination, where I preached for reasons I don’t recall to a congregation not my own. Maybe it was a community Thanksgiving service, so strangers were exposed to my expostulations. Anyway, somebody liked it.

What I learned was that whenever I thought I had a real barn-burner of a sermon, nobody else thought so. And when I thought I was being thoroughly mundane, I was sometimes surprised by a compliment later. As I say, I eventually learned that I was not in control; and whenever I thought I was, life taught me a lesson.

Roberts, according to observers, “was shaken by the adverse public reaction to his decision affording Trump substantial immunity from criminal prosecution. His protestations that the case concerned the presidency, not Trump, held little currency.” As a consequence, reports Biskupic, “Unlike most of the justices, he made no public speeches over the summer. Colleagues and friends who saw him said he looked especially weary, as if carrying greater weight on his shoulders.” 
This echoes precisely the blockbuster New York Times reporting from last month from Jodi Kantor and Adam Liptak, who also pointed out that Roberts had convinced himself last term that he would be able to razzle-dazzle the nation with soaring constitutional rhetoric in his immunity opinion, in ways that would lower the temperature in the public fury at the high court post-Dobbs: “In his writings on the immunity case,” write Kantor and Liptak, 
the chief justice seemed confident that his arguments would soar above politics, persuade the public, and stand the test of time. His opinion cited “enduring principles,” quoted Alexander Hamilton’s endorsement of a vigorous presidency, and asserted it would be a mistake to dwell too much on Mr. Trump’s actions. “In a case like this one, focusing on ‘transient results’ may have profound consequences for the separation of powers and for the future of our Republic,” he wrote. “Our perspective must be more farsighted.”
Lithwick thinks this happened because the Chief Justice lives in a bubble. Well, hell, of course he does! He’s the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, one of nine select people on the planet. He lives in a bubble by definition. One made worse over the decades by the mounting importance of ideology (it’s hardly judicial philosophy) over everything else. Where Abe Fortas resigned over the least possible hint of scandal, Thomas and Alito declare their absolute right to power, as if their appointments were a bond no man could put asunder. And what does Roberts do about it? Agree, apparently.

Roberts probably thought he was just that damned good; that if, like Twitterati the world over, he just explained it, everyone would agree with him. How could they not? The three dissenters? Well, there will always be a peanut gallery, right? Always a few trolls who refuse to see reason. Can’t worry about them. No! When the world reads the CJ’s words of wisdom, the scales will fall from their eyes and they will walk in the light! These are words for the ages!

Been there. Tried that. Found out that wasn’t my superpower, after all.

Roberts isn’t the newest Bubble Boy. This is hubris, plain and simple; as old as Greek tragedy. Roberts’ failure was thinking that he wasn’t just above the law, but that he was the law. That he was going to correct the course of history with his bare, judicial hands. Never imagine you have superpowers, or a date with destiny that you, alone, can fulfill. Even if you are Napoleon, you end your days on Elba, a prisoner of your enemies.

Or a victim of your hubris.

Now we need to amend the Constitution, and entomb Roberts’ folly for all time. Much in the way I’ve buried all those sermons I thought would set the world on fire; or at least open its eyes.πŸ‘€ 

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