Over the Weekend: A Funeral and How I Once Met Justice Antonin Scalia
I met Justice Antonin Scalia once. It was at a luncheon to which I was invited by a friend who was the sponsor. Before the Justice gave his talk, he circulated and naturally came to my friend and his circle, of which I was one. He spoke to our small group for some time, so while I didn't "pal up" to him, he was close enough to leave an impression.
His demeanor was lively, friendly, without being too familiar. He knew who he was, but wasn’t haughty at all. Quite likable. Whatever the subject of the speech (which regrettably I don’t remember), the impression of a good and interesting speech lingers, with "interesting" the operative descriptor: Scalia wasn’t ponderous and boring, by any means, even in the opinions he wrote for the Supreme Court. Indeed, he welcomed lively discussion and debate, fostered the airing of ideas, and clearly said what he meant. You never wondered what he believed. Even better, he didn't present his ideas as his "beliefs," but attempted to show why they were right. The concept of "truth," infused his thinking. He sought it at all times. The idea that truth might be somehow relative - as in what's true for you, vs. what's true for me - didn't infect his thinking, his writing, or his speaking.
But given his devotion to the truth, he wasn't afraid to entertain the ideas of others, even those he knew opposed his views. He apparently once participated in a traveling series of debates with Justice Stevens, a liberal member of the Court. One of his best friends was Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, one of the most "liberal" members of the Court. A friend of mine - a staunch "conservative" - never could understand how these two could be authentically close personal friends. But having met Scalia - if only briefly - you could and would understand. In fact, I suspect you might have had the same impression I did: This was a man confident in his ideas, who could nevertheless respect those of others because he respected those others as people. In other words, the man could distinguish between ideas and the individual person. I suspect his Catholic faith informed him here, as the Church has always treasured the individual as a person created in the image and likeness of God. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to speculate that this fundamental teaching was embedded in Scalia's mind and heart.
On Saturday I watched some of the funeral Mass, which was broadcast on a number of networks. Right away, one was struck by the extent of the coverage. This was an event proportionate to the man. The Mass was serious, humorous, solemn, big (as in many attendees) as Scalia was, both physically, intellectually, and personally. His son Father Paul Scalia was celebrant, surrounded by oodles of bishops, priests, and at least one Cardinal (Wuerl of D.C). Never mind the man’s wife and kids (he had nine) and other family.
The other part of Scalia's life that intersected with mine, besides our brief meeting, was our Jesuit education. He was schooled at a time when Jesuits were Jesuits, whose teaching method and style enhanced both his intellectual and moral fiber. (I mention this because the Jesuits have notoriously declined from their once-exalted position as great educators and defenders of the truth, to the watered down "Modernist" rag-tag bunch we find at least since the 1960s.) Scalia clearly derived great benefit from the Jesuits who taught him, as he demonstrated an intellectual rigor that sprang from the training he received at Xavier High School in New York City and Georgetown University in Washington, D.C.
The coverage of his sudden demise and subsequent funeral remains mostly respectful, although snipes did crop up here and there. Naturally, one such snipe was sourced at his Georgetown Alma Mater, where a Dean published an encomium that was promptly disputed by what sounded like a disaffected "progressive" professor - the "progressive" characterization being based on comments that bristled with the sort of hatred reserved for someone who would dare to not only contest the validity of the relativity of truth but who also could effectively challenge the sort of "fuzzy" (a Scalia descriptor) thinking that such "progressives" typically spew forth.
But besides such occasional unpleasantness, Antonin Scalia left this world in a style and manner appropriate to the man, from what I could see. A secular memorial will be held in March. But the Catholic Mass that ushered him into the Presence of his Lord and Savior most effectively expressed those teachings and sentiments which drove Scalia as a husband, father, and friend, as well as his years in public service.
Antonin Scalia, rest in peace. Or as we Catholics would traditionally pray, "Requiescat in pace."
His demeanor was lively, friendly, without being too familiar. He knew who he was, but wasn’t haughty at all. Quite likable. Whatever the subject of the speech (which regrettably I don’t remember), the impression of a good and interesting speech lingers, with "interesting" the operative descriptor: Scalia wasn’t ponderous and boring, by any means, even in the opinions he wrote for the Supreme Court. Indeed, he welcomed lively discussion and debate, fostered the airing of ideas, and clearly said what he meant. You never wondered what he believed. Even better, he didn't present his ideas as his "beliefs," but attempted to show why they were right. The concept of "truth," infused his thinking. He sought it at all times. The idea that truth might be somehow relative - as in what's true for you, vs. what's true for me - didn't infect his thinking, his writing, or his speaking.
But given his devotion to the truth, he wasn't afraid to entertain the ideas of others, even those he knew opposed his views. He apparently once participated in a traveling series of debates with Justice Stevens, a liberal member of the Court. One of his best friends was Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, one of the most "liberal" members of the Court. A friend of mine - a staunch "conservative" - never could understand how these two could be authentically close personal friends. But having met Scalia - if only briefly - you could and would understand. In fact, I suspect you might have had the same impression I did: This was a man confident in his ideas, who could nevertheless respect those of others because he respected those others as people. In other words, the man could distinguish between ideas and the individual person. I suspect his Catholic faith informed him here, as the Church has always treasured the individual as a person created in the image and likeness of God. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to speculate that this fundamental teaching was embedded in Scalia's mind and heart.
On Saturday I watched some of the funeral Mass, which was broadcast on a number of networks. Right away, one was struck by the extent of the coverage. This was an event proportionate to the man. The Mass was serious, humorous, solemn, big (as in many attendees) as Scalia was, both physically, intellectually, and personally. His son Father Paul Scalia was celebrant, surrounded by oodles of bishops, priests, and at least one Cardinal (Wuerl of D.C). Never mind the man’s wife and kids (he had nine) and other family.
The other part of Scalia's life that intersected with mine, besides our brief meeting, was our Jesuit education. He was schooled at a time when Jesuits were Jesuits, whose teaching method and style enhanced both his intellectual and moral fiber. (I mention this because the Jesuits have notoriously declined from their once-exalted position as great educators and defenders of the truth, to the watered down "Modernist" rag-tag bunch we find at least since the 1960s.) Scalia clearly derived great benefit from the Jesuits who taught him, as he demonstrated an intellectual rigor that sprang from the training he received at Xavier High School in New York City and Georgetown University in Washington, D.C.
The coverage of his sudden demise and subsequent funeral remains mostly respectful, although snipes did crop up here and there. Naturally, one such snipe was sourced at his Georgetown Alma Mater, where a Dean published an encomium that was promptly disputed by what sounded like a disaffected "progressive" professor - the "progressive" characterization being based on comments that bristled with the sort of hatred reserved for someone who would dare to not only contest the validity of the relativity of truth but who also could effectively challenge the sort of "fuzzy" (a Scalia descriptor) thinking that such "progressives" typically spew forth.
But besides such occasional unpleasantness, Antonin Scalia left this world in a style and manner appropriate to the man, from what I could see. A secular memorial will be held in March. But the Catholic Mass that ushered him into the Presence of his Lord and Savior most effectively expressed those teachings and sentiments which drove Scalia as a husband, father, and friend, as well as his years in public service.
Antonin Scalia, rest in peace. Or as we Catholics would traditionally pray, "Requiescat in pace."
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