The Supreme Court and the Prodigal Spirit: How Christians Should Pray for the Court

The younger one said to his father, “Father, give me my share of the estate.” So he divided his property between them (Luke 15:12 NIV).

The prodigal son didn’t get half. He lost half.

He exchanged all the wealth of his father’s house for half of it. Likewise, the Supreme Court didn’t gain honor when they stole legislative power—they lost it. They sought to add legislative power to their original and honorable judicial power, and in so doing they corrupted and polluted the purity of their original and honorable role.

The younger son had a noble position in the home of his father. But he had a wrong view of his situation. By asking for his inheritance, he thought he was gaining half of his family’s estate, but he was actually losing half.

You see, the father was a great guy, a generous father. He loved his young son so much that while the son grew up in his father’s house, the father gave the son everything he truly needed. While the son lived in the house of his father, he had access to all—not half—but all of the wealth of his father’s house.

But the son wanted more than access, he wanted control. He wanted freedom. He wanted to call his own shots, sow his oats, bathe in all the pleasures the world had to offer. And so, he was willing to give up access to all of his father’s wealth, in order to control half of it. In a word, the son wanted freedom.

Freedom is generally a favorable concept, right? Or is it?

Truly, “freedom” is neither a good nor a bad word. Freedom can be good. Freedom from death? Yes, that’s good freedom. However, freedom from a perfect Father’s love? Not good.

And the latter freedom is the type of freedom the prodigal son wanted. He asked for it and, amazingly, the father gave it to him.

Boomerang Dishonor

The son’s request for his inheritance now was tantamount to telling his dad that he wished he was dead. The son greatly dishonored his father.

 However, dishonor is a funny thing. It tends to bring more dishonor to the one doing the dishonoring than on the target of the dishonor. In this instance it was the prodigal who dishonored himself. The father retained his honor, while the prodigal son sacrificed his on the altar of “freedom.” Freedom is not always good.

In the parable, it is notable that the prodigal son was the younger son. Perhaps he was babied. Perhaps he was neglected. Perhaps he wore his older brother’s hand-me-down clothing. Perhaps he felt he did not measure up. In any event, he was not just a son, he was the younger son.

The Supreme Court’s Little Brother Syndrome

Like the prodigal son, the Supreme Court was born with a noble role. And, like the prodigal son, the Court developed a yearning for something more—more freedom.

On paper, the Supreme Court was born as one of three co-equal branches of government. Each branch had a separate, important, essential role in this new republic. The first branch is Congress, and their job is to legislate. As the people’s elected representatives, they are tasked with making the rules we live by.

The second branch is the Executive, or the Presidency, and it is the president’s job to execute and enforce the laws.

The third branch is the Judiciary and it is their job to decide cases or disputes among citizens, not based on their own desires, but on the laws passed by the people’s elected representatives, which is Congress.

Each branch has a role. Different roles. Essential roles. And all were equal—in principle. But in practice, they were not equal. And so it seems that the Supreme Court developed a bit of an inferiority complex, or a “little brother syndrome.”

Dishonor in the Court

In its formative years, the Supreme Court was dishonored, devalued, and insulted by the other two branches of government, but mainly by the legislative branch, the first branch, of government. The Court and the Judiciary were treated like a little brother. Perhaps there was an unspoken message that the job of judges was less than that of the Legislative and the Executive branches. After all, Congress made the rules, and the Executive enforced the rules, while the Courts were left with resolving spats based on the rules decided by others. There was nothing wrong with the Court’s role, but the legislative branch did send them the message that they were “less than.”

That may sound dramatic, but I assure you it’s not. Consider something as simple as the design and construction of the new capital city in Washington, DC, which began in 1791. There wasn’t much in DC in those years. As a matter of fact, it amounted to mostly acres of farms, forests, hills, and perhaps a swamp or two. There was plenty of space for a grand design of streets, diagonals, public parks, squares, and, of course, buildings to house the three branches of government.

And so, the buildings of the new national governmental district were built. Each branch received an inheritance.

The first branch of government, Congress, received a massive complex called the United States Capitol.

The second branch of government, the Executive, received a beautiful presidential palace, that is now called the White House.

The third branch of government, the Judicial, received nothing.

That is not an exaggeration. The third branch, the United States Judiciary, the United States Supreme Court, got nothing, nada, zilch, zero. They didn’t even get a crummy building. They got no building.

Think about that. Meditate on that for a minute. Let your mind, your heart, your soul drift back in time and pretend you were a justice on the US Supreme Court in 1800. Picture the buildings of the other branches. Picture the lack of a building for your branch, and then let those pictures and the message of those pictures soak into your soul. Let your soul marinate in that message.

What message do you receive? Perhaps the message was, “You get nothing because you are nothing.”

Even today, the US Supreme Court’s website seems to still bear offense at the history of the Court’s meeting locations:

When the Federal Government moved, in 1800, to the permanent Capital, Washington, the District of Columbia, the Court again moved with it. Since no provision had been made for a Supreme Court Building, Congress lent the Court space in the new Capitol Building. The Court was to change its meeting place a half dozen times within the Capitol. Additionally, the Court convened for a short period in a private house after the British set fire to the Capitol during the War of 1812.

Following this episode, the Court returned to the Capitol and met from 1819 to 1860 in a chamber now restored as the “Old Supreme Court Chamber.” Then from 1860 until 1935, the Court sat in what is now known as the Old Senate Chamber.1 (Emphasis mine.)

Clearly, the Supreme Court and the Judiciary have not forgotten the insults that struck them for 135 years, from 1800 to 1935, when the Supreme Court finally received their own building. But who could blame them?

How do you move the federal government to a newly constructed location with an abundance of open space for construction and not make provision for one of the three branches of government listed in the Constitution? They had land for multiple squares, parks, a national mall, and land for the first two branches of government, but not enough space for the third branch of government? No, they did have enough land for a judicial  building. They had enough money to build one. But none was built. Whether intended or not, it was an insult.

But not to worry, Congress was willing to “lend” the Court space to meet in the Congressional building: “So sorry, little brother, there’s no building for you. But not to worry, we’ll lend you some space in ours.”

Moreover, big brother made the Court move around a half dozen times in the Capitol. Perhaps the most telling move of all occurred when in typical little brother fashion, big brother gave little brother their “hand-me-down” chambers. When Congress built the Senate a beautiful new meeting location, Congress did not give, but rather lent, the third branch of government the used, second-rate, out-of-style, yesteryear, hand-me-down Senate chambers. Moreover, in the early years, there were reports that the justices were not given a proper room to robe and disrobe. Instead, they robed and disrobed in a partially open room seen by the public before entering into the courtroom used for court proceedings. Picture Chief Justice Marshall, the head of the nation’s third branch of government absorbing this disrespect.

Funny things happen when people are repeatedly told and treated like they are not good enough. After a while, they may start to believe it. And then what happens?

Perhaps they shrink back and lose confidence.