By Andrew Williams

POLICE ARE WARRIOR PRIESTS

or "armed clergymen," in Alan Watts' exact phrase.

The police are your friends, see. They keep you between the lines so you

won't be noticed. If they do notice you, then they must become wrathful

and vengeful and will have to curse you loudly and beat you very, very

hard for, after all, is it not "God's wille" to punish the sinner?

It is logical, then, that many cops are Catholics: how well they've had

dinned into them the catechism of Original Sin. And how righteously angry

they can become when dealing with a suspected or confessed transgressor.

So you see, the church/state separation was actually dissolved when the

first cop with a religious bent was put on a beat.

In modern times, history has recorded how the police in New York City,

Chicago and L.A.--many good Catholics--hunted, hounded and haunted Billie

Holiday, Lenny Bruce and other great entertainers into early graves

because they dared to speak unpopular and unpleasant truths. And also

because they used substances that were not government-approved.

And let's not forget that "police riot" in Chitown in 1968. And of course

J. Edgar's masterstroke--COINTELPRO, which snooped on citizens who chose

not to blindly follow their leaders. (COINTELPRO is experiencing something

of a renaissance. Exempli gratia: the recent proposal by the FBI to

track the websites that library computer users visit. Computers, in fact,

like the one I'm using to send this essay.)

In truth, it is the police who cannot handle much light. We only kowtow to

them in fear and awe of their judicious might and the stern club of the

strong leader. Take the props away and they're just citizens in

ill-fitting blue uniforms. (In the case of undercover narks, ill-fitting

blue serge suits.)

When an artist speaks of "making the blue cars go away," s/he temporarily

and magically banishes the thrall which the People hold us under. That was

the great breakthrough of the 1960s: millions of young Americans learned

the answer to the question: "Who is wiser than all the buddhas, sages,

philosophers and prophets?" Or to rephrase in terms of the Zen koan: "Who

is the master who makes the grass green?" Whether you answer God or self,

it is, arguably, the same answer.

This is truth, but the good Catholic cop sees it as sacrilege. Your

sacrament is his road to perdition. (Bumper stickers sighted at

legalization rallies: "Support your local police--beat yourself up." "Bad

cop--no donut." "Am I under arrest? Can I go now?")

And now, a whole new factor has been added to the mix. The priesthood

molestation scandal that was one of the longest-running open secrets in

the history of the Catholic Church has broken onto the front pages of

America and is roiling the membership rolls.

Might we soon see Catholic cops beating Catholic priests into submission

and penance? Or does this now open sore of a scandal literally hit too

close to home? Either way, the Church has been publicly staggered by

revelations that are very old news to church insiders and literary

observers.

This is a day they knew was coming and for which they should have been

well prepared. So questions loom: How much faith will it take to forgive

the censured priests? And how will the "armed clergymen" who are of that

faith process this latest development?

After all, police have the same temptations and powers to obscure the

trails of their acts: threats of censure, intimdation and, of course,

threats and use of physical

force.

So whether it's the cop on the beat or the parish priest, parishoners of

all stripes would do well to question those who claim the role of

shepherd. And let none dare call it heresy to ask, "Who polices the

police?"