James Luther Adams was famous for his pioneering work in religion and public life, religion and society. His interests embraced economics, public policy, contemporary culture, civil liberties, and church law. His wide-ranging mind at times compellingly focused on issues in civil law as well. I say “compellingly” advisedly, for Adams was essentially a Protestant theologian who had a central concern with the work and influence of Luther, so it was natural and inevitable that his interest would flow from theology of law to the wider subject of law and religion.

Adams' study of an issue was often characterized by certain intellectual qualities. He tried to include almost all aspects of the question; he was not satisfied, as courts at times are, with seeing only a single set of facts and answering a question that is limited only to the facts before him. He could see other sets of facts, and asked, what about them? This approach naturally forced him to look for an organizing principle, an all-embracing concept or set of concepts. First, then, he tried to be comprehensive in his examination; and secondly, he tried to be principled in his analysis and thinking.

We are contending for the free exercise of religion in a democratic and pluralistic society. We would not be contending for it if we thought the free exercise of religion is adequately understood and protected at present. Critical to this contention is rethinking the religion clause of the First Amendment, and the larger part of this article is devoted to that rethinking. I will then offer some observations on the forces shaping this contention in the public arena today, and comment on the goal of a religiously informed public philosophy for our society's democratic experiment in republican governance.

There is a metaphorical reciprocity between theology and law. In brief, and in sum, let me begin in this way in grateful acknowledgment of Professor Ball's probing and provocative, fascinating, and instructive analysis, which sets out from the other pole of this reciprocity. At times, his search for an alternative to the dominant metaphor for law leaves the reader in some bewilderment and tempted to take cover in that salutary squib, offered from time to time by The New Yorker under the caption: “Block that metaphor!” As though anticipating that rude and facile exit from the search, Professor Ball is careful to provide an awesome and safer harbor in the paradigmatic law of the sea. This paradigm conceals both the alternative sought for and the unexpectedly promising expectation that—as things penultimate express and make room for things ultimate—the exciting prospect is that the lion and the calf do lie down together. “For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water;… and there will be no more sea” (Isaiah 11:6-9; Revelation 7:17, 21:1). Even Woody Allen will be able to join the calf and the lion in the exchange of sleepless nights for waking and sleeping amidst the peace which passes all understanding (Philemon 4:7).

In his essay, Professor Bassett traces the roots of the “myth of the nomad,” a myth which was used to justify the dispossession and destruction of Native Americans by colonial settlers. Bassett's primary focus is on a careful exposition of the sources and uses of the myth. The historical evidence he presents is persuasive and interesting, and his analysis is often thought-provoking.

I find myself, however, in some disagreement with Bassett over the function this type of work serves. While Bassett recognizes that “[w]e are all creators of myths,” he insists that we should “bring to light” the myths in the law and expose their “insidious uses[s].” As Bassett observes, the first-year property course offers numerous opportunities for the unmasking of such myths. Bassett seems to suggest that we view his fascinating essay as one such attempt to “demythologize the law.”

It is not possible, nor would it be desirable, to “demythologize” the law. The law is constructed upon, and often even constituted by, myths. The effort to eliminate those myths would produce legal concepts that were far less human, and probably no more humane. Our task, as both teachers and scholars, should be to recognize and evaluate the myths we use, but not necessarily to abandon them. Bassett's essay offers a fine beginning for this project of understanding.

In the mid-1970s, I attended one of the early conferences on Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR). It was held in Stanton, Virginia in the heart of Mennonite country. At that point, very few people had heard of ADR, but almost all acknowledged that the civil litigation system was broken. The bar establishment was willing to look almost anywhere for help. There were American Bar Association representatives at the conference, and their attitude was one of curiosity that disputes might be resolved outside the traditional litigation and negotiation processes. At the conference, some of the leading speakers were members of Mennonite dispute resolution groups. They seemed to many lawyers as if they had stepped off of another planet, but they told of a history of dealing with disputes through alternate means. They served as teachers to the ABA and the rest of us. Since then, of course, everything has changed. ADR has swept the country. It would probably be malpractice for a lawyer to not consider alternative means for resolving civil disputes.

Forgiveness and mercy are often thought of as acts that we perform or gifts that we bestow. In this essay the author focuses on character and explores the implications for punishment if one focuses on having a character that is merciful and forgiving in disposition. He argues that the tension that is often thought to exist between justice, on the one hand, and forgiveness and mercy, on the other, is lessened by focusing on the virtue of having a forgiving and merciful character.

Responding to recent calls made within the UK Parliament for a government-backed definition of Islamophobia, this article considers the unanticipated consequences of such proposals. I argue that, considered in the context of related efforts to regulate hate speech, the formulation and implementation of a government-sponsored definition will generate unforeseen harms for the Muslim community. To the extent that such a definition will fail to address the government's role in propagating Islamophobia through ill-considered legislation that conflates Islamist discourse with hate speech, the concept of a government-backed definition of Islamophobia appears hypocritical and untenable. Alongside opposing government attempts to define Islamophobia (and Islam), I argue that advocacy efforts should instead focus on disambiguating government counterterrorism initiatives from the government management of controversies within Islam. Instead of repeating the mistakes of the governmental adoption of the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA)'s definition of antisemitism by promoting a new definition of Islamophobia, we ought to learn from the errors that were made. We should resist the gratuitous securitization of Muslim communities, rather than use such definitions to normalize compliance with the surveillance state.

The late congressman John Lewis spent most of his political life engaging Black Power's commitment to economic and political freedom through a political vocabulary that aligned with his deeply held beliefs in nonviolence, human rights activism, and moral faith. The tension between the Black radical left and establishment Black politics dates back to Lewis's clash with elite Black leaders over the content of his prepared address for the 1963 March on Washington. The address provides a glimpse into Lewis's complicated political legacy. The youngest speaker at the March, Lewis faced the daunting task of both representing the political philosophy of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and meeting the expectations of established civil rights leaders. Negotiating the political interests of the organizers of the March alongside the demands of SNCC foreshadowed the congressman's political vocation: a lifetime of civil rights advocacy through a politics of respectability and Black Power's political philosophy of freedom and economic transformation. Lewis's political legacy is complicated; and yet, it was fueled by an unabashed commitment to Black freedom struggles, human rights activism, and racial reconciliation.

John Milbank's critique of the secular as a violent distortion of Christian theology is well established. Less clear is how Milbank's framework might bear upon secular liberalism as it specifically relates to liberal ideas of religious freedom and public or secular reasons in political contexts. This is especially worthy of investigation since “religious freedom” is part of the liberal framework Milbank so stridently critiques. This article attempts to reconcile Milbank's theological critique of secular liberalism with the idea of religious freedom by applying Milbank's theology and the law of love to liberal notions of public discourse for the purpose of redeeming and transforming that discourse. This redeemed “liberalism” provides a framework for persuasion to the Good by recognizing that all public positions (including secularism) are ultimately faith positions, and advocates a discourse governed by the law of love to produce genuine religious freedom that paradoxically transcends and fulfils the liberal ideals that secular liberalism proclaims but can never attain.

The recent decision of the United Kingdom Supreme Court in Regina (Hodkin and another) v Registrar General for Births, Deaths and Marriages concerned the registration of the premises belonging to the Church of Scientology in London as a place of worship, specifically for the purpose of enabling a marriage to take place there which would be valid in law. This article examines the continuing significance of a registered place of worship in the English law rules on formalities of marriage. It provides a brief history of the role of religion in the solemnization of marriages in England and Wales, and the emergence of the “place of worship” as a constituent element in the celebration of a valid marriage. The role of marriage at a registered place of worship in the current legislation governing the formalities of marriage is considered, along with the impact on that scheme of the Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013. The exceptional character of the approach adopted by English law is highlighted by a comparative survey of laws on the solemnization of marriages, which also demonstrates some of the problems arising out of alternative solutions. Finally, recent attempts to reform the law are noted, followed by some concluding remarks on possible future developments.

It gives me great pleasure to be here today and to give remarks on a subject in which I take considerable interest, the legal and social status of women. I would like to thank Ambassador Mejdoub, the Hannibal Club, and the President's Interagency Council on Women for providing this forum to discuss and promote women's issues.

Women from all countries have much to share with each other about their own cultures, experiences, successes, and failures. Today, as always, women are the primary caregivers worldwide. We bear and nurture the children, and we manage the household for our families. But we also work outside the home. We want and expect to have equal opportunities in business, in the professions, and in public service. We want and expect to be paid as much as men for the same work. While women have made tremendous advances in this century, the process of achieving gender equality is still an ongoing one, in this country and throughout the world. In many respects, we have traveled far, although we have a way yet to go. We remember the old adage that “[t]he test of every civilization is the position of women in the society.”