Can Anything Good Come Out of Law School?
**UPDATE: You can also read this article in Precipice Magazine.**
In other words, can an attorney be a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ?
A Christian attorney? Isn't that like saying "a married bachelor"?
But seriously...
As you might imagine, this is one of the most central and difficult question with which I have grappled since I began to call Jesus "Lord" some three years ago, 9 years after I became licensed to practice law in the State of California.
The short answer I'd give, at this point in my grappling, is "With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible."
Now for the long answer.
First, it depends a little on your area of practice. But not much. For my purposes here, I'm talking about the garden-variety tax attorney, litigation attorney, corporate attorney, but I'm also including the civil rights attorney, the attorney who focuses on issues of social and political justice, the attorney who defends the rights and the dignity of "the least of these."
The reason that I've come to the interim conclusion I have, notwithstanding one's area of practice, is due primarily to the central ethical mandate of all attorneys. Paraphrasing a bit from various formulations of this standard, an attorney must zealously represent the interests of her/his client within the bounds of the law. In other words, an attorney must serve the interests of her/his client, and not any One else, within the bounds of "the law," no matter how far askew that law has been drawn away from Kingdom principles.
When I am representing a client, I am not, at that same time, representing my Lord. No one can serve two masters. I can and do practice within the bounds of ethics. I can and do practice with a conscious effort to treat my clients, my adversaries, my staff and every other person within the system with love, dignity and integrity. I can and do share my faith, within the bounds of context, whenever I can. But at the end of the day, my loyalties must run with my client, or else, by definition, I am not acting as an attorney.
And the lines are blurry. Purposely so. I practice ethically, but I admit that I have also come very close to the far edge of that line. Dignity and integrity? Yes, but there, too, I've often found myself on the borderline, and who's to say whether I've passed it? And that's just over the last three years. I've been an attorney for almost 12 years, and during the previous 9, well, let's just say that abstract lines are not much a barrier for someone who knows no god but himself.
But here's where this whole analysis gets a little blurry. Here's where the "with God all things are possible" part comes into play.
When all is said and done, I don't think my life will be defined by my legal practice. You see, as many of my readers know, almost six years ago, I abandoned my family, my wife and my 1-year old daughter. I simply left, without a trace. Two years later, God brought my family back together (that's a radically condensed shorthand for a narrative too long to fit here). Shortly thereafter, I made a choice to take the first, tiny steps toward becoming a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ, and I've been a "stumbling disciple," as I like to call it, ever since.
But before all that happened, I was an attorney. And as one, I became pretty adept at certain things. I became adept, for one, at elucidating abstract legal concepts and doctrines, seeing the "big picture" of a particular legal framework, and then filtering specific, real-life circumstances through that big picture, and, finally, at communicating that analysis to an audience (a judge, an opposing attorney, a client), usually in writing, in a manner that both made sense and was appealing to the reader.
For 9 years, I applied these skills to my practice. I do so to this day.
But I think God had other plans. He often does.
A few years ago, I decided to start writing down my thoughts regarding my family's testimony and how that testimony fit into the larger Biblical narrative. In other words, I began to look at the big picture of Christianity and to filter the facts of my own story through it, in an effort to communicate all that to an audience. Several months later emerged a book, my first, called Parables of a Prodigal Son: The Theologically Grounded Testimony of an Ordinary Scoundrel.
The book is not yet published, but we're getting real close. And there are some pretty heavy hitters in the publishing world taking a long, close look at it. Bishop N.T. Wright has read it and offered the following endorsement:
"A remarkable book. Raffi's is a powerful and dramatic story and I am privileged to have been part of it."
A while back, I posted on the issue of St. Paul's desire to go to Spain, how his Letter to the Romans was probably, in his mind, a means to that greater end, and the fact the Paul, as far as we know, never made it to Spain. But he did write Romans. If you have ears, then hear.
I don't know what will come of all this. Maybe nothing much. Maybe something much. What I do know is that had I not chosen to become an attorney, my life, so far, would have turned out quite differently. The cataclysmic events within my family likely would not have occurred. And though I would selfishly say I would have preferred it that way, I'm not convinced that, when all is said and done, I'll feel the same way. And even if it did occur, I'm relatively certain that I wouldn't have been able to assess it within the framework of the historical Christian faith in the same way that I was able.
So here's what it boils down to. Can an attorney be a good disciple of the Lord? It's tough. It's reaaaallllllyy tough. At least, it has been for me.
But Dallas Willard once said that "We are placed in a specific context to count in ways no one else does. That is our destiny." Willard also speaks of God's cosmic conspiracy, through Jesus, to overcome evil with good. And it is a conspiracy: clandestine, silent, whispery. When I ponder those two thoughts in conjunction, I come up with this.
I'm often not practicing discipleship when I'm practicing law. And that wrenches my gut, because God knows I want nothing more that to be a worthy disciple of the Lord's, to do my part for the Kingdom. And that's the clincher: "God knows." And because He knows, He'll probably do something about it, despite my failings, despite my moral struggles, or, more accurately, with my failings and my moral struggles.
"Seek ye first the Kingdom, and I'll take care of the rest."
Or something like that.
Grace and Peace,
Raffi
Try being a public school teacher as a Christian...LOL. Actually, I am retired so I don't have to grapple with that mess anymore. I imagine many occupations are like what you describe as an attorney. However, I wished you had gone into more detail as how you handle contradictions between your "lawyering" and your faith. I'll check back to see if you continue this theme as I find it quite interesting and practical for almost all Christians.
Oh by the way, I just noticed where you live. We live in the same city -Glendale, CA.
Diane:
Thanks for the comment. I'd imagine that many of my concerns are applicable not only to lawyers but a whole slew of other professions as well. As for the "I wished you had..." part, well, I tried my best to comply.
Grace and Peace,
Raffi