By Jim Denison
Are you a candidate for the Supreme Court? Don’t answer too quickly; the list of potential nominees is growing daily. Justice John Paul Stevens will retire this summer. President Obama will then submit his second pick for the high court, after successfully nominating Sonia Sotomayor in May of 2009.
The Wall Street Journal recently profiled the 11 candidates known to be under consideration so far. Sadly, there’s not a Baptist in the bunch, as far as I can tell. A Baptist hasn’t served on the bench since 1971, so we’re due.
On the other hand, our lack of Supreme Court representation is not the worst thing that could happen to Baptists. After all, only one in seven Americans seems to know that John Roberts is currently the chief justice of the United States while two-thirds can name a judge on “American Idol.” I’m not aware that any of the Idol judges are Baptist. Then again, there have been only three Baptists among the 111 who have served on the Supreme Court.
Charles Evans Hughes Sr. narrowly lost the presidential election of 1916 before becoming the 11th chief justice of the United States, serving in that capacity from 1930-41.
Howell E. Jackson was somewhat less distinguished: confirmed for the court in 1893, he contracted tuberculosis in 1894 and died in 1895.
By contrast, Hugo Black served on the Supreme Court for 34 years, the fifth-longest tenure in Supreme Court history. He is one of only three associate justices to appear on a postage stamp, along with Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., and Thurgood Marshall. We Baptists clearly have a somewhat checkered high-court legacy.
Admittedly, the idea of such a permanent place in history is appealing. There’s something in us that wants to leave a legacy — a reminder to those who follow us that we were here; a way to carve our initials into the tree trunk of time. British statesman Benjamin Disraeli’s declaration stirs us: “The legacy of heroes is the memory of a great name and the inheritance of a great example.”
There’s another side to the story, however. Erasmus commented on the fame Praise of Folly brought him: “Heaven knows, what is popularly called fame is nothing but an empty name and a legacy from paganism.” Gen. William T. Sherman was not noted for his familiarity with Reformation-era scholars, but he echoed the theologian’s sentiments in his famous refusal to run for president: “If nominated, I will not accept; if drafted, I will not run; if elected, I will not serve.” The general’s reticence is increasingly rare in a culture which defines us by our public status and significance. We’re two years from the next presidential election, but prospective candidates are already lining up and political speculation has begun. Sociologist Robert Bierstedt summarized the credo of our culture: “I am not what I think I am and I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am.”
We can live for present reputation or eternal legacy, but seldom for both. William James was right: “The greatest use of life is to spend it for something that will outlast it.” The Greek proverb advised, “A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.”
The problem is, I am no judge of future significance. I have no idea what, if any, of my present activities will outlive me. I’m not alone in such predictive myopia. No one in the Bible received a five-year plan from God. Paul wanted to go east when he was called west (Acts 16:6-10). He had no idea his mission to Philippi would introduce the gospel to the “Western world.” Jesus’ counsel was blunt: “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matt. 6:34).
The will of God seems to be more a flashlight in the night than a roadmap in the day. A wise friend once counseled me, “Stay faithful to the last word you heard from God and open to the next.” So I’ll leave tomorrow to my Father and try to follow him today. After all, all of God there is, is in this moment.