You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Do you understand?
Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?
You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. Do you understand?
If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. Do you understand?
Dr. Mike Sims glanced at his watch as he pushed open the heavy glass door and exited the family practice clinic. Depending on traffic he could be home in less than fifteen minutes. He walked briskly toward the white Honda Pilot waiting in his reserved space in the parking lot. A quick press of the button on the key fob unlocked it just a half-second before he pulled open the door and slid into the drivers seat. The warm Georgia sun had heated the cab nicely– a welcome relief in the midst of the January cold snap. It was Thursday, and he was normally off on Thursday afternoons. Dr. Sims’ final patient of the morning had required more time than he had anticipated, causing his delay in leaving the clinic. Some people simply love to recount details– every detail of every pain that they have experienced over the last 48 hours. But over thirty=five years of experience had taught him to listen carefully, because somewhere sandwiched in the midst of insignificant details was the tell-tale key to a diagnosis. Dr. Sims was a good listener. A warm, caring demeanor had always been his style, boosting his practice and retaining the respect and loyalty of most of his patients.
Yes and No– two powerful words. Both say a lot. But use them together and you have ambiguity. Use them together in a courtroom and you have trouble.
Several years ago I was subpoenaed to testify in court for a simple custody case. A fine couple in our church were hoping to get custody of their young niece, who’s mother had been arrested for drug possession several times and hospitalized in a mental institution. It seemed like an easy case to me. As their pastor, they needed me to be a simple “character” witness, testifying about their family stability, moral character, and suitability to be loving guardians for the child.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I was in Rome, Italy. January 20, 1977. The day Jimmy Carter was inaugurated President. I was a 2o year old college student studying abroad. That may sound a bit Ivy League, but it really wasn’t all that. I signed up for a Jan-Term archaeology course at Samford University that included a three week trip to Israel and Italy. “Studying abroad” just sounds cooler.
Our class spent two weeks in Israel seeing the sights and visiting archaeological digs .(Basically, we visited what other people had dug. Interesting, but not really National Geographic material. We were, however, housed in the cold attic of a three hundred year old church. That was cool.) I enjoyed the trip very much. Just being in the land that Abraham claimed, that David ruled, and that Jesus walked was inspiring enough. But we got to visit places that regular tourists couldn’t even see. It was an exhilarating adventure. I thought about Jesus every single day. It was quite a spiritual romp for a twenty year old.
One day in Jerusalem was especially memorable. We were strolling through the Valley of Hinnom, on the southeastern side of Jerusalem, just outside the ancient wall. It is a beautiful municipal park now, but in the time of Jesus it was Jerusalem’s garbage dump. No kidding. In Jesus’ day it was called Gehenna, where there was always garbage burning and dead animals smouldering and swelling in the hot sun. Imagine the stench!
It was 1970. I was 14 years old and needed help with life. Being the shortest kid in my class was hard enough to handle, but couple that with my inability to excel at anything athletic, and anyone will understand why I needed help. The eighth grade is ground zero for male insecurity. Everybody knows that everything matters in the eighth grade– voice, wit, romance, odor, clothes, and especially HAIR. In 1970 it was a guy’s hair that told his story. The crew cuts and flat tops of the 50’s and 60’s were history, and guys were finally liberated to look like Jesus– or at least like the Beatles. The coolest men on TV sported locks of hair down on their shoulders and plenty of facial hair. Add bell bottom jeans, wide leather belts, and love beads and any guy could possess undisputed coolness.
Unfortunately, I was a 14 year old shrimp with only a little facial fuzz and very traditional parents who thought long hair was a sign of satanic rebellion. I tried showing Dad multiple pictures of Jesus in my Sunday school quarterly to prove that long hair could be a godly look, but it was of no use. He wouldn’t even let my hair creep over my ears, much less flow across my shoulders. We were able to work out a compromise though. I WAS allowed to wear my hair down on my forehead like Paul McCartney, just so the back was neatly trimmed and the entire ear showed. He didn’t like my “bangs” hovering over my eyes, but it was a compromise he was willing to accommodate– especially when he noticed how many of my friends were actually chasing the Jesus look, while their parents were obviously looking the other way. For me it was just the best I could get, even though I looked like a clean cut guy with love beads and a brown possum resting on my forehead.
