Sunday, February 12, 2023: Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Sirach 15:15-20 Psalm 119:1-2, 4-5, 17-18, 33-34 1 Corinthians 2:6-10 Matthew 5:17-37 What Would Jesus Have Us Do in Response to the Death of Tyre Nichols?A reflection by John Falcone Early this January, a young Black man named Tyre Nichols was arrested and beaten by Memphis police officers; he died three days later on January 10. Many Dignity chapters and individual members have been keeping Tyre and his family – and other victims of violence – in our prayers. We grieve for a life wrongly cut short. We grieve for everyone involved in this tragedy (or travesty) of policing – what kind of policy, training, and culture could lead to officers acting in such a way? What can we do about it, as LGBTQ+ Catholics and allies? Imagine listening to this Sunday’s readings with Tyre in mind. Sirach tells us: “There are set before your fire and water; to whichever you choose, stretch forth your hand. Before you are life and death; whichever you choose will be given to you. … No one is commanded to sin.” Is that the choice those policemen thought they were offering to Tyre? It certainly seems to be the choice that they had before. It makes me wonder how often we choose violence over healing in our own lives? Paul tells us: “God has revealed [God’s] wisdom to us through the Holy Spirit, who searches out all things, even the deep things of God. … It is not a wisdom of this age [i.e., this present social order], nor of the rulers of this age, who … crucified the Sovereign of Glory.” For Paul, God’s wisdom is a non-violent wisdom that aims to create a new, non-violent social order. Paul believed this order would dawn here on earth, not up in heaven (check out this analysis); and he also believed it would dawn very soon (1 Thes 4:15-17). Again, we can personalize this: has that new, non-violent social order begun to dawn in me? In us as Christians? In our gospel reading, Jesus lays out a reform program that we have come to call the Sermon on the Mount. The first part of the reading underlines this program’s implications for social and political life: “Do not think I have come to abolish the Law and the Prophets. I have come not to abolish them, but to fulfil them.” It’s a mistake to interpret “the Law” as a set of Jewish rituals and purely moral obligations. For Jesus and the Jews of the time, the Law encompassed property rights, commercial transactions, personal hygiene, domestic arrangements, tax codes, public ceremonials, and national policy (including how to negotiate a Roman occupation). Jesus claims the authority to reform all these policies. And this Sunday’s gospel begins to lay out the new blueprint. Jesus’ blueprint does not speak directly to “policing,” because the police as we know them did not exist in Jesus’ time. In fact, the idea of a designated police force – of policing as a profession or (for Christians) as a personal calling – did not exist before the mid-1800’s. Mennonite scholar Andy Alexis-Baker traces the history of policing from the perspective of the late French theologian and radical social critic, Jacques Ellul (“Just Policing,” p. 12-18). Alexis-Baker points out that police forces were originally created to maintain social order in the developing capitalist, middle-class state. The earliest police forces were charged with chasing down runaway slaves (in the rural South); “managing” local elections (in the urban North); and busting up striking workers (all over the country). In the cities, during those decades of the late 19th to early 20th centuries when LGBTQ+ culture was just starting to develop, it was the job of policemen to suppress loitering, vagrancy, and unseemly behavior. This meant keeping a lid on queers, immigrants, drunkenness, the grey economy, and the unruly under- and unemployed. Detecting and prosecuting crime was a later addition to the role of the police force. Of course, policing has undergone a lot of professionalization and repeated reforms since those early days. Modern police officers are trained “to protect and to serve.” Still, Alexis-Baker asks us to consider: how much of policing’s original DNA continues to shape the theory, training, and culture of police forces today? For example, in New York City, it was not so long ago that police officers were chasing young queer and trans People of Color away from their hangouts on the Westside Chelsea piers (at the behest of nearby gay and straight middleclass homeowners). Where else could these young people go to be broke, out, and boisterously queer? “Not my problem” was the general answer. Who are the police tasked to “clean up” nowadays? Who are the “broken window” people of our present-day towns, cities, and trailer parks; and what are the police supposed to do with them? In the second part of our gospel reading, Jesus presents this Sermon on the Mount reform program as a provocative list of before-and-after scenarios. Before: no murder. After: no raging, no hating on others. Before: no sleeping around with married people. After: no sexual objectification at all. Before: No spousal abandonment; divorces must be legal. After: value your commitments; address your sexual compulsions. What would this kind of reform program look like in terms of just, holy, and life-giving policing? Prioritizing emergency mental health workers in our budget negotiations over punitive measures? Blocking the sale of military excess to local police forces? Only recruiting from and policing one’s own local neighborhood? Mandatory mindfulness training for the police? All these proposals, and others like them, are already being considered in different parts of the country. As we move through Black History Month and start coming towards Lent, let’s do our homework as LGBTQ+ Catholics and allies. Let’s read about proposals for police reform. Let’s learn the history of policing. Let’s become more aware of the possibilities and push our elected leaders towards action that affirms the dignity of every person. In short, let’s take Jesus seriously – seeing the Sermon on the Mount both as Jesus’ blueprint and our own unfinished business: “Unless your sense of justice surpasses that of the religious scholars” and the pillars of the community, “you will not enter the kindom of heaven.” |
