Once, when my husband, Roy Herron, and I were students in Vanderbilt University's joint divinity and law program, he traveled to New York City. On the plane, he met two of our professors, Robert Belton from the law school and Kelly Miller Smith from the divinity school; and the three men decided to share a cab from LaGuardia.

As they rode to their hotels, with Roy in the middle, law professor Belton pointed to himself and announced, “Here we have pure law.” Pointing to Professor Smith, he added, “And here we have pure theology.” Then, pointing to joint divinity-law student Roy Herron he asked, “But what do we have here in the middle?”

Divinity professor and Baptist preacher Kelly Miller Smith replied, in his great booming voice: “I fear … we have … POLLUTION!”

Some would say pollution is a charitable characterization for those who mix theology and law. During five years in Vanderbilt's joint divinity/law program, someone said to me almost daily: “Law and divinity, aren't those contradictory?” That question was often followed by a clever quip like, “What do you do, marry people and then divorce them?” Although I almost always laughed as I responded, I remember one early morning in the Vanderbilt Law Library, before my first cup of coffee, when I did not. A fellow law student, a member of the Christian Legal Society, said: “Law and divinity, aren't those contradictory?” I demanded, “Then why are you in law school? If you really think you can't be a Christian and a lawyer, then you should drop out this very day.”