So what else is there to discuss other than the death of Chief Justice Rehnquist?

By definition his death marks the end not only of a man but of an era.  Excuse me for feeling a little nostalgic for the Rehnquist Court, a group which was together longer than any other (August 3, 1994 - September 3, 2005).  I cut what legal teeth I have on reading opinions by these people.

It was during the 2000 election crisis that I began to come of age politically.  It was the first time that it hit home to me that the Supreme Court was a real group of people that wrote real things you could hold in your hand and read.  A friend's uncle who worked for Baker-Botts LLP gave me a photocopy of a faxed copy of Justice Scalia's emergency stay in Bush v. Gore.  I liked the way it looked: the big margins, antique font, and legal phrasing.  I tried to understand what it all meant.

Then I took Dr. Farris's online course, "Constitutional Law for Christian Students," in the fall of 2002.  I was reading actual historical opinions and writing summaries of them on a basic level.  Naturally, after the course ended I was drawn to do the same for new opinions as they were issued.  My mind was opened to constitutional law during one of the Rehnquist Court's most productive, controversial, and high-profile times.  And what a time it was.

I pored over United States v. American Library Association and debated the merits of library internet filters.  I ground and gnashed my teeth at Gratz and Grutter v. Bollinger.  I proffered my nuanced opinion on Lawrence v. Texas with the air of one who thought he felt at home with the Constitution.

Locke v. Davey brought to mind Dr. Farris's similar case (Witters v. Washington Dept. of Services for the Blind) and reopened the debate on the Lemon Test.  ("We hate tests," as Dr. Farris always said.)  I had mixed feelings on the partial victory in Elk Grove Unified School Dist. v. Newdow.  Rumsfeld v. Padilla and similar counterterrorism cases added fuel to the fire of my growing libertarian/statist dichotomy.

And of course, more recently, Kelo v. New London provoked an outcry.  I must confess that I did not actually analyze that decision, but merely joined society in an outcry against the dissolution of our rights -- rights our birthright as not only Americans, but as Englishmen.

Then came the Chief Justice's last opinion, Van Orden v. Perry, an attempt to remove a Decalogue from the Capitol grounds of my home state.  In it he boldly abandoned the Lemon Test and instead urged a return to a clear and common-sense approach to Establishment Clause analysis.

I've always viewed the Supreme Court as perhaps the closest connection we have to our legal heritage in England, another reason for nostalgia.  You might say that it's only because of the robes, the cries of "oyez," the formalities; but I say it's something more.  One of the greatest men to hold the title of Chief Justice anywhere in the world, Sir Richard Coke, put it well: "The Law is the surest sanctuary that a man can take, and the strongest fortress to protect the weakest of all: Lex est tutissima cassis; the law is the surest shield."

I think that's what makes law so important in our society: the idea that all men, no matter how small, can gain a hearing before the greatest men of our land.  Chief Justice Rehnquist was one of those men, and I think Sir Richard's words serve as a fine epitaph: the law is the surest shield.  Our Chief Justice held the shield faithfully for thirty-three years as a member of the Supreme Court of the United States.  Whoever is eventually confirmed to his vacant place on the bench, one thing is sure: no one will ever truly be able to take his place.