c. 1997 Religion News Service

(Tom Ehrich is an Episcopal priest in Winston-Salem, N.C., an author and former Wall Street Journal reporter. E-mail him at journey(at)interpath.com.)

UNDATED _ Bibles lie on our chairs in the jury pool room. Nice touch, I think to myself. Gives people something to read.

Then we are asked to stand, take Bible in hand, and swear that we will exercise fairly and honestly our duties as jurors. Some choose to stand without a Bible or reference to God. But most seal their oath by holding Scripture.

In the jury selection process, we are asked our opinions on certain human conditions and on our ability to make decisions with an open mind. Bibles aren’t distributed, but we are reminded of our earlier oath.

On the corner of each front table in the courtroom lies another Bible. As witnesses come forward to testify, they are instructed to hold the Bible in their left hand, raise their right hand, look the jury in the eye, and swear to tell the truth.

This is my first time on a jury, so every bit of it catches my attention. I notice the politeness of counsel even as they joust, eyes watching our eyes to guess what we are seeing; the studied mannerisms of those who have stepped this dance many times; and nervous clients trying not to betray anxiety.

In the middle of it all, a book. Not opened, not read, its wisdom not sought, its judgments on these very matters not considered. Just there, a presence, like the bailiff’s pistol or the judge’s high bench, a hefty reminder that these are serious matters.

The Bible’s mute presence speaks to freedoms people fought hard to achieve: freedom to have one’s day in an open court, freedom to disagree, freedom to seek the truth, freedom to be judged by laws and one’s peers, not by the whims of the powerful.

And two other freedoms, as well. One is freedom from the tyranny of those who claim to know God’s mind. I am glad the Bible remains closed. I would be fearful if either counsel started quoting Scripture. Maybe there was a time in the age of the ancient Hebrew judges, before Saul became king, when wise men and women could seek God’s will and rule civil affairs. But human history suggests we should beware when people presume to speak for God, for they seek mainly to intimidate. Scripture used as a weapon is a frightening force, rarely for good.

The other freedom has to do with making decisions. We are free to decide as best we can. Our decisions aren’t dictated by a heavy-handed God or laden with the burden of naming one party as good and the other as evil. We disagree because we are human, and our court system, no less human, renders imperfect judgment, not eternal damnation.

We can’t throw up our hands and say,”Let God work it out.”We have to work it out ourselves. In the conflicts, misunderstandings, failed dreams, meanness and weakness of life, we must look each other in the face and work it out. We may not pick up pistols and start firing; we may not presume to deny accountability to each other. In a democratic society where no one has a unique lock on truth or rectitude, it falls to us to promote fairness and justice.

Any human society involves the clash of ideas, needs and privileges. Combatants on all sides pick up crosses and Bibles, and claim a divine right to win. In our nation, we are free of such tyranny. The sign of that freedom is that the book remains closed. We acknowledge that these are serious matters, that God watches and that we have awesome responsibilities. But then we put the book down and do the best we can.

This isn’t God rendering judgment. This is twelve men and women, two attorneys, two clients, a judge, three court workers, and witnesses thrown together in a dance familiar to some, frightening to others; toe stepping on toe, and yet doing the best we can do.

I am glad God lets us alone to work it out. I am glad the Bible is present, but left silent. That means God is available to all when the doubts and fears set in.

MJP END EHRICH