The summons for jury duty brought with it a sort of dread. I was not sure what to expect, but I knew above all it would involve hearing conflicting evidence and determining someone’s fate, to an extent.

I really did hope the attorneys wouldn’t choose me that Friday.

Then they did. I was intensely disappointed and remained so over the weekend. Even Monday, during the trial hearings, I was housing a bit of a grudge in my heart. Against whom, I couldn’t really say. I’ve always thought being tried by a jury of our peers was an essential right.

Tuesday, we began deliberations. And the fellow sitting next to me in our windowless room, around a gigantic table, said that he’d been excused from jury duty multiple times before and this time had determined that he would to what he could do be considered even-tempered enough and all that to be selected. Because he believes in it and thinks it’s so important.

So then my disappointment and bitterness died. He taught me that this was an honour.

And then I learned so much.

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Communication in the jury room is fascinating. This is the way all meetings should go. This is how we should talk to one another. I will explain.

1. The entire trial process is slow and deliberate. It is essential that no party takes any short cuts and that all procedures are observed down to the smallest detail, so that the defendant has the fairest trial possible. Thus, each individual respected what someone was saying and did not interrupt or try to rush them along. This carried into the jury room. We painstakingly examined each element of the law and evidence at hand. We did not jump to conclusions or make assumptions about any individual’s character. We focused on what they all had said, and what we now were saying to one another.
2. There is great respect for the other individuals you encounter. The judge and attorneys spoke respectfully to one another and to the witnesses, and to us, the jurors. In our deliberations, when someone had an opinion that conflicted the majority, we did not try to attack her. We tried to understand. We respected her as a person and in the end, when she would not change her stance, we respected her conviction.
3. No jurors were late. We all arrived wherever we were supposed to be early. We came early in the morning, returned early from lunch and from breaks. We didn’t want to be the one holding up the group from making progress. In that way, we also demonstrated that we respected the others.
4. The jurors exerted patience in both persuasion and listening. This ties in with #1 somewhat. We heard each other out and desired that those who had not spoken much would do so and have that platform. And then, instead of arguing with one another, we attempted to present persuasive reasons for why we had come to our conclusions.
5. We employed straightforward speech. It was vital that each of us spoke what was on our mind and was honest about our feelings. People became quickly comfortable with doing so, particularly because no one exactly wanted to stay there for days on end doing this. So we got right to the point.
6. And on that note, we didn’t take anything personally. If someone disagreed with us, we were not offended. We did want to bring them around to our way of seeing things, but we did not get heated and have personal conflict. Similarly, we did not make personal remarks or insults toward one another.
7. Instead, we tried to focus on what the truth was, and to come to a conclusion. To do that, we couldn’t read into someone’s statement or make any assumptions about others. We had to take their words at face value and do our best to determine the facts. If there seemed to be un-clarity or if someone clearly misunderstood someone else, others would speak up to assist and defend someone or clarify.
8. When things got particularly tense (or intense), someone would invariably pitch in a light-hearted remark to lift the mood. This was helpful in that it brought smiles to our faces and let us share a moment of positivity. We made introductions and learned a bit about each other as well. We kind of actually had inside jokes by the time we were done. That’s what being stuck in a fluorescently white, quiet isolation chamber for two days will do to you. It didn’t go downhill like other isolated group situations do, because we had bathrooms and could technically take breaks whenever. And they gave us lunch hour too. 🙂

I observed all of this with great interest. These were people from various levels of education, such a variety of careers and life experiences and races and cultures, and religions, etc. I’ve no doubt our values in everyday life are quite different. We didn’t even start out with a list of deliberation rules of conduct or communication! But we shared the value of ensuring justice was met, based on truth, regardless of our feelings about it. And as a dozen random humans left the Hall of Justice on the third and last day of the trial, I think we left as friends.

My goodness. This was a great experience with people who were required to be present. Why can’t we behave this well in settings we encounter voluntarily? I mean it – why? I would love to know your thoughts and any experiences you’ve had that relate to any of this!

Why do we not count it an honour to be in relationship with other humans, other creatures made in God’s image? Why is it not an honour to proceed through a difficult conversation and get to love someone else through it?

I learned that this is possible with people who have no church experience or religious affiliation. Should it not be more so with those who follow Christ?

Amen, Lord. Let it be.