Before I was elected to Congress, I worked in a courtroom. For

"Before I was elected to Congress, I worked in a courtroom. For years, I defended doctors and hospitals, and for years, I sued them on behalf of people who were victims of medical malpractice." — Dick Durbin

Hear now the words of Dick Durbin, a man who has walked on both sides of justice’s trembling scale. In his reflection, he reveals the dual path of a life spent not in comfort, but in balance — a life that has seen both the accused and the accuser, both the healer and the harmed. When he says, “I defended doctors and hospitals, and I sued them,” he is not boasting of contradiction, but teaching a higher truth: that justice is not loyalty to one side, but devotion to the truth itself. For truth, like the sun, shines upon all, and the just man must learn to stand in its light, even when it exposes the flaws of friend and foe alike.

Durbin’s words rise from the heart of experience — from years spent within the sacred chamber of the courtroom, that modern temple where the fates of men are decided not by swords, but by reason. There, he saw the noble intentions of doctors, men and women who swore oaths to preserve life. And there too, he saw the anguish of those who suffered through medical error and neglect. Thus, he lived between two worlds: one of healing, and one of hurt — one of power, and one of pain. In walking this line, he learned the timeless principle that true justice demands empathy for both the strong and the weak, for neither is always right, and both are human.

The ancients knew such balance as the path of wisdom. In the tales of old, King Solomon sat upon his throne and judged between two mothers, both claiming the same child. He did not favor wealth or status; he sought truth through understanding of the human heart. So too did Durbin, before the halls of Congress ever echoed his name, seek fairness in a realm where each life bore its own tragedy. To defend and to accuse — these were not acts of conflict, but of learning. For through both, he came to see the complexity of justice, and the humility required to wield it.

Consider the paradox of the healer who harms, or the victim who seeks redress from those sworn to save. In such conflicts, there are no pure villains, only flawed mortals bound by duty, error, and circumstance. Durbin’s years in law taught him that justice is not vengeance — it is restoration. It seeks not to punish the good or exalt the wronged, but to return balance where it has been lost. And that balance, he discovered, can only be found when one looks through both eyes — the eye of compassion and the eye of accountability.

When Durbin entered Congress, he carried with him not just the knowledge of law, but the wisdom of perspective. Having stood on both sides of the courtroom, he understood that governance, too, is not the rule of one class or cause, but the harmonizing of many. The same patience that once guided him in court became the foundation of his service — to listen, to deliberate, to act not as a champion of one side, but as a guardian of fairness. His words, therefore, remind us that leadership is born not of certainty, but of understanding.

There is a profound moral here for every seeker of truth: do not cling too tightly to one side of an argument, nor let allegiance blind you to compassion. Whether in court, in politics, or in daily life, the noble soul learns from every perspective. Defend the just when they are maligned; challenge the mighty when they err. For wisdom grows only in those who have seen the world from both the mountain and the valley. To hold empathy for all — that is the mark of true strength.

So, O listener, take this teaching into your heart: walk both sides of the truth before you judge it. Do not live as a zealot of one view, but as a seeker who strives for understanding. In your work, in your words, in your dealings with others, respect both the sinner and the saint, for life’s battles are never fought in pure light or darkness. As Dick Durbin’s life teaches, honor your calling by standing where balance demands you stand — even when the ground is uncertain. For only then can you say, as he could say before God and man alike, that you have served not the side, but the truth.