Sunday, October 23, 2011

 

Sunday Reflection: Wisdom Not My Own


This Friday, I am presenting a paper that summarizes some of my core ideas about teaching. I have included the introduction below, and welcome your comments.

When I was a federal prosecutor, I got to be a tangential player in one of the great and compelling dramas in American law—a beautiful juxtaposition of transgression and truth, violence and principle.

A man (it was nearly always a man) would run from the police. He had robbed a bank, or sold narcotics, or fled the border, and was caught. He would run across a street, a field, a frozen lake, pursued by three or four officers. When he was caught, as he usually was, he would be thrown to the ground, rolled over, a knee would be placed roughly on his neck to hold him in place, and his hands would be shackled behind his back while he writhed on the ground.

It would be then—after the man was subdued but while he still struggled—that the most remarkable thing would happen. One of the officers would reach, still breathing heavily, into his pocket, retrieve a card, and read aloud the Great Principles of the Fourth and Fifth Amendment:
You have the right to remain silent.
You have the right to talk to a lawyer and have him present with you.
If you cannot afford to hire a lawyer, one will be appointed for you.
You can decide at any time to stop any questioning….

What a glorious, amazing thing! There in that rough field or alleyway, the improbable is recited—that we do not force confessions, that we value counsel, and that we do not favor the rich over the poor. These are principles. These exemplify wisdom. And, sadly, they are rarely addressed as such in law school, where we bury ourselves in rules that have come to encase those principles within a thick coat of opaque and hoary jurisprudence.

This paper has a simple premise: That if we are to teach towards wisdom in addition to knowledge, we must teach principles in addition to rules. Principles, unlike rules, allow room for personal agency, inner conflict, and the entry of the Holy Spirit—a perfect recipe for wisdom.

Allowing our students a route to wisdom requires that we teach principles as well as rules, and that we distinguish between the two. In the end, when we see true wisdom—in heroes from Aristotle to Martin Luther King, Jr.—we see it in those who pursued principle even when those principles transgressed the rules.

Comments:
A lawyer used to be a noble profession, in the same vein as being a physician. Maybe because in some particular way both professions had the potential to save lives. When affecting another person's life is at play, a strong moral compass and a solid set of principles should be obligatory. But how does one measure such subjective matters. Being a lawyer or a doctor used to be family traditions and I often assigned that to the lucrative and practical aspect, but I realized that it was the upbringing all along. It wasn't their mother or father's list of clients that kept the family tradition, it was what made the list of clients for their mother or father: being good lawyers and good doctors. And what they had actually passed along to their kids was the secret to their success: the principles of their profession.
Nowadays being a lawyer doesn't seem to be the noble profession it used to be, just lucrative. And that can almost be spoken for doctors as well (thank God for the Hippocratic Oath). What happened?
 
Wisdom and knowledge, principles and rules are often in conflict, though connected, birthing inner conflict – a good thing.

The Greek Philosopher, Plato, said, "If you would converse with me, please, first, define your terms." We are told that one of the first marks of intelligence is the ability to distinguish between things that are different and that which is similarly different. Are crime and sin not different, similarly?

Both crime and sin are codified and steeled by law (covenant). With knowledge, both are doing wrong when we know better. Both espouse consequences and punishment that effect life. What better inner conflict than that between another’s life and ours? The gift of life calls us to continually pursue “principle even when those principles transgress(ed) the rules.” All the while adhering to, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”

“… –in heroes from Aristotle to Martin Luther King, Jr.,” many have led the way. Their example calls to us, their hands extended through example, “Come.”

Peter was similarly called to “Come,” to walk on water, to step out of his comfort zone, to experience the unknown, to courageously lead.

To teach, we must also define our terms. Why limit our experiences to knowledge and rules when the inclusion of wisdom and principles ensure we will experience more (abundance), secure in the knowledge more will be revealed, more will be given?

Wisdom and knowledge, principles and rules are often in conflict. One never knows how life’s journey will be played out, when the clay of our life may be placed in the kiln to be fired, tested and finally completed. Embracing and managing inner conflict keeps our clay wet, encourages the interpretation of law (scripture) and challenges precedent (faith) – a very good thing.
 
Marvellous elegant writing,Marta and New Christine. I loved that phrase,"embracing and managing our inner conflict keeps our clay wet."
 
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