The Judge Who Kept an Empty Chair

In 1962, Judge Learned Hand retired from the Second Circuit Court of Appeals after fifty-two years on the bench. When a young clerk asked what had made him one of America's most respected jurists, Hand pointed to an old wooden chair he kept in the corner of his chambers — a chair no one ever sat in.

"That chair," Hand said, "belongs to the person my decision will hurt the most. Before I rule, I sit across from it and try to see their face."

Hand understood something Solomon grasped as a young king standing before the Almighty at Gibeon. When God offered him anything — wealth, military victory, long life — Solomon asked for none of it. He asked for a listening heart. The Hebrew phrase lev shomea means more than intelligence. It means a heart that leans in, that pays attention to what others cannot hear — the quiet grief beneath the argument, the fear behind the accusation.

Solomon knew that ruling a nation was not about having the sharpest mind in the room. It was about carrying the weight of other people's lives with trembling hands. His prayer in 1 Kings 3:9 was not "make me smart." It was "make me sensitive to what I might otherwise miss."

Every leader faces the same crossroads God set before Solomon: you can ask for power, or you can ask for the wisdom to use it gently. The empty chair is always waiting.