They both were named Michael.
The two officers killed in Salina. The Syracuse policeman and the watch commander from the sheriff’s office. Last Sunday night, out of nowhere, rifle fire, maybe an ambush, and they protected the neighborhood and brought down the foe, but they paid with their lives.
Michael Jensen and Michael Hoosock.
One had an MBA and a taste for action, the other had a wife and three kids at home.
And they bled out there, on the neighbor’s lawn, while their buddies did CPR and shouted for the ambulance.
Syracuse is a long way from Calvary, but maybe not so far.
Because these men were believers. Christians. Catholics. Rough and ready pranksters who did hard things in bad situations, but who had a faith they didn’t hide under a bushel.
Two days before he died, Michael Hoosock and his wife stood with their daughter as she received First Communion. Three months before he died, Michael Jensen got his first tattoo – a cross of Christ with the letters “INRI,” an abbreviation for the Latin phrase which translates to English as “Jesus of Nazareth, king of the Jews.”
They weren’t holy rollers, but they were men of God. Men who in their souls heard and heeded the Lord’s command to Joshua to: “Be strong, and of a good courage.”
And they were both named Michael.
That’s a Hebrew name. It means, “who is like God.” The Bible speaks of an archangel named Michael. He threw down the dragon from heaven, and fought the devil in the name of the Lord. He seems to have made a practice of fighting evil to protect good.
And he is now the patron saint of law enforcement officers. Michael Jensen wore his medallion, a gift from his mother and his priest, who had spent more than 20 years as the chaplain of his department.
The bishop spoke at both funerals, by way of final commendation, the uncle of a police officer himself, he swung the censer broadly and said words of respect and trust, and affirmation of faith in resurrection on the last day.
Syracuse is a long way from Calvary, but maybe not so far.
The Rev. Paul Angelicchio intimated that as he prayed over the remains of Michael Jensen. He said to God that Officer Jensen was “united with your Son in a death like His.”
A death of sacrifice and the shedding of blood.
A death of service and love.
A death that purchased something for others at the complete cost of self.
Like the lyric said in the closing hymn, “as He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free – while God is marching on.”
These men lived, served and died in the unspoken belief that sometimes God marches on in the form of men and women with badges upon their chests. Sometimes loving your neighbor and being your brother’s keeper involves running headlong into danger and doing battle with the devil and his angels.
That’s what Michael did; that’s what these Michaels did.
And they showed us by their example, like all the noble among their profession, that serving others is serving God. That the angels God sends in answer to prayer often come with a duty belt and in a car with lights on top.
As we pray for God to watch over our children, to protect our homes, to bring peace to our communities, to stand with us in times of trouble, more often than not, he sends his servants in uniform to come to our aid. To shield us, to save us, to be his protecting hand in our lives.
It is a calling both profane and sacred, but it is absolutely a calling, a divine responsibility and privilege, to answer the call for help.
Some do their duty to God by living lives of prayer and contemplation; far more do their duty to God by living lives of action and service. But no good thing comes for free; there is always a price. Of stress or regret, of fatigue or emotion, of danger, or of injury and death. All in law enforcement pay something, and these two paid everything.
And now they are two more saints Michael.
Taken back to the God who sent them.