A Message from Dean Thomason

Police Violence in Memphis and Our Response

Dear friends,

“On my honor, I will never betray my integrity, my character or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always maintain the highest ethical standards and uphold the values of my community, and the agency I serve.”

That Oath of Honor comes from the International Association of Police Chiefs. The horrific videos released yesterday by Memphis authorities document how tragically and traumatically the five police officers who beat Tyre Nichols to death failed to uphold such commitments to serve the common good and the welfare of their citizens. There is no honor in what unfolded; their values and ethical standards gave way to the frenzied violence; others stood by and did not intervene. Still others delayed their care, and another young man is senselessly dead, another mother grieves, a city cringes in fear and mistrust, and the nation reels once more as we add another name to the litany of lament that grows longer and longer. How long, O Lord, how long!

Kathy and I said Morning Prayer earlier today with this anguish on our hearts. Psalm 55 is the appointed psalm for today—a lament psalm that spoke its truth into this moment, excerpted here:

Hear my prayer, O God…I have no peace, because of my cares.
And I said, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.
I have seen violence and strife in the city…her streets are never free of oppression and deceit.
Had it been an adversary who taunted me, then I could have borne it…
But it was you, a man after my own heart, my companion, my own familiar friend.

The strife in Memphis is not so distant from us as to be removed from the orbit of our pain and grief. Nor are the woes of that city so different than ours. This does not indict every police officer. Many do uphold the values in the oath above, and they serve us with dignity and respect. We should not lose sight of that fact. We should be grateful for them and thank them. But surely we can say that there is a plague in the law enforcement industry where such brutality is somehow justified time and again. (It is a red herring, in my opinion, to cite that these five officers were Black—except perhaps to note just how quickly they were charged with murder unlike many other police whose demeanor was similarly abusive.)

There is no “them” there. We are in this together, and the long tendrils of racism in this nation will not be eradicated by superficial tilling of our woes. It is painstakingly long, arduous and fraught with risk. But here we stand, and we can do no other if we are to stop killing our children.

I am convinced this nation and our cities will not really embrace this work in transformative ways unless we, as people of faith, actively participate in the work—not to cast aspersions on others, but to model the sort of repentance, lament, and resolve to work for a different way. It will be costly, but it is the quintessential work of this generation.

We lead with prayer, not as escape or a claim of ineffectual indifference, but to gain clarity and conviction to continue, even when the way forward remains elusive. It will require courage and sacrifice, attributes Jesus modeled for us, and is inviting us now to adopt. It seems the Oath of Honor might be fitting for us to consider as well—a mantra, a prayerful commitment we make in this moment, with God’s help:

“On my honor, I will never betray my integrity, my character or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always maintain the highest ethical standards and uphold the values of my community, and the agency I serve.”

May it be so.

The Very Reverend Steven L. Thomason
Dean and Rector