“By me?” Bonassi said.
“By Bill?” Dorothy said at the same time.
Millie nodded. “The Lion of the Court, after all.”
“Ah,” Bonassi waved his hand in the air. “Twaddle. Who makes up those names?”
“I do remember something about you,” Millie said. “Your faith. Bill, you never talked about your religion around us and I respected you for that. You didn’t want it to become the thing that defined you on the Court. And I – ”
“No, no,” Bonassi gently corrected. “On the contrary, my faith defines me in every way. But then again, everyone has faith.”
“How so?”
“Well, we have faith that there is such a thing as existence. And that we are rational creatures capable of finding answers. We have to make that leap of faith or there’s nothing to talk about, is there?”
“I suppose not,” Millie said with a slight laugh.
“Faith precedes knowledge. It makes knowledge possible.”
“But how did your faith influence you on the bench?”
Bonassi thought about the question, his fingertips touching in steeple fashion. “It certainly influenced my view of the basis of law. I believe the principles of justice to be real, not merely manmade ideas. May I inquire, dear Millie, why you are asking?”
Millie took in a deep breath. “I didn’t know who else to come to. I had an encounter with God – ” Does this sound stupid? “I mean, I have come to believe in a God. I hadn’t thought about him for a long time, but I’m thinking about him now and I’m pretty shaken up about it.”
Dorothy Bonassi immediately put an understanding hand on Millie’s arm. She said nothing, only smiled. “Tell us about it,” she said at last.
Millie did, starting from the accident all the way through to the moment on the plane when she felt like a door was opening for her.
When she finished, the Old Lion had a sparkle in his eyes. He seemed fifty years younger. “I didn’t embrace Christianity until I was out of law school. It threw me for a large loop, too. Changed the way I looked at the law, that is for certain.”
Yes, and that was what terrified her. The law, for her, had been a solid piece of ground for over thirty years. It was shaky now, and she could not see the sinkholes. “Tell me how,” she said.
“I started thinking about the rights of people,” Bonassi said. “That’s what the law comes down to. It’s about people. What gives people that sort of dignity, I started to wonder. And I decided that it was God. I came to see that without principles of law firmly rooted in a source outside of ourselves, the very idea of law becomes an absurdity. That’s what Jefferson said in the Declaration of Independence, after all. We are endowed by our Creator with certain inalienable rights. Without that source, where do rights come from? It can only be from the subjective preferences of whoever happens to be in power, including judges.”
Millie had, of course, heard that argument many times before. “But I have always believed that the principles in the Constitution itself bind us.”
“What are those principles, Millie?”
“Equal justice under law, to start.”
“And how do we define justice?”
“That’s always the question, isn’t it? Each case is different.”
“The principles, however, are not. The founders set this country up on a foundation of biblical metaphysics.”
“On what?”
“They were steeped in the Bible. It was the one book that everyone knew. The Bible teaches this: that nature is intelligible, the product of a loving Creator. It teaches the dignity of every man. It was Jefferson who said, ‘The God who gave us life gave us liberty at the same time.’ He really believed this, contrary to what some revisionists claim.”
“Jefferson wasn’t a deist?”
“There’s a lot of flapdoodle taught about Jefferson. Just read what he wrote. In his Notes on the State of Virginia, he said” – Bonassi closed his eyes, finding the words – “ ‘Can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are the gift of God? That they are not violated but with his wrath?’ That is what I’m talking about.”
“Jefferson wrote that?”
“And Madison, father of the Constitution, said the belief in a ‘God all powerful wise and good is
Millie lifted her glass. It slipped out of her hand, slamming hard on the glass table.
“I’m sorry,” Millie said quickly.
“Think nothing of it, dear,” Dorothy Bonassi said. “Bill sometimes has that effect on people.”
Millie saw William T. Bonassi give his wife a look of such deep love that her heart filled with something like music. In that instant she thought of Jack Holden.
“Sorry about the lecture,” Bonassi said. “I could go on.”
“But you won’t,” Dorothy said.
“I won’t,” Bill Bonassi said obediently. “How about I give you some books instead? They’re less crotchety than I am.”
“Yes,” Millie said, “I’d like that.”
“You have a Bible?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Remember what old John Adams said in 1807. ‘The Bible contains the most profound philosophy, the most perfect morality, and the most refined policy, that was ever conceived on earth.’ ”
Millie shook her head. The Old Lion’s memory, at eighty-nine, was still absolutely amazing.
“This is a strange feeling,” she said.
“I know,” Bonassi said. “Use your noodle, Millie.” Bonassi tapped his head with his index finger. “I’ve always considered you one of the sharpest tacks on the bench. If you’ll pray and read, the answers will come.”
“Prayer,” she said. “I’ve forgotten how.”
“Start with an easy one. Help me.”
“I think I can handle that.” Millie realized the feeling of disquiet she’d had when she first got here was suddenly gone. “May I come again?”
“Please come down here and argue with me anytime.” Bonassi added, “It’ll be just like old times.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
1
