By Soo Yeon Lee
I am a litigator and a Christian. At times, those two identities sit uneasily together. Christians are
called toward reconciliation, humility, and peace, not adversarial conflict in public courts. And
yet, this is where I find myself called: to the courtroom, to conflict, to advocacy for others.
We live in a world where wrongdoing occurs, and not all disputes can be resolved informally.
The work of a litigator is therefore not to create conflict, but to engage it responsibly when it
becomes unavoidable. That framework, however, carries its own tension. The practice of
litigation can incline one toward pride and a results-driven mindset, while faith calls for an
understanding that the manner of advocacy matters as much as the outcome, and a continued
openness to reconciliation. My perspective began to shift, among other considerations, as I came
to see that Scripture makes clear that righteousness is not passive.
The Jesus who inspires me most is not a gentle, otherworldly figure, soft-spoken and barely
present in the conflict around him. I was struck by this while watching The Gospel of John
(2003), a film that follows the fourth gospel word for word, without addition or omission. What
emerged on screen was a Jesus I had not quite imagined before.
This Jesus is not withdrawn or placid. He teaches in public, among crowds who challenge him,
and he does not adjust his message for the room. When religious leaders press him with hostile
questions, he does not soften or deflect. He answers them directly, and at times turns the question
back with a sharpness that silences his opponents. His voice is raised. He does that with the full
throated conviction of someone who intends to be heard. What stood out most is not simply that
Jesus confronts wrongdoing, but how openly and deliberately he expresses his anger at it. His
response to the merchants in the temple is unmistakably public. He does not correct quietly; he
disrupts the entire space. Tables are overturned in full view of everyone. The moment is meant to
be seen.
That image carries particular significance in the context of litigation. The Gospels reflect that
Jesus confronted situations marked by real injustice and ongoing harm, responding with clarity
and firmness rather than passivity. Similarly, there are circumstances in legal practice where a
clear and deliberate willingness to be heard is necessary.
Being a courtroom lawyer as a Christian, then, involves living within this tension and learning to
navigate it with discernment: when to press forward, when to seek resolution, and how to act
with integrity throughout. The tension does not disappear. It helps define the role. And when
those circumstances arise, I understand my place to be there, following the example of Jesus who
confronts.
