Riot or Protest: A Retired Marine and Deacon’s Understanding

I have worn two uniforms in my life. One for my country, as a United States Marine, and one for my Church, as a deacon. Both have shaped how I view the world—one forged in duty, the other in sacrament. In these uncertain times, the streets of our cities often seem like battlegrounds of pain, frustration, and confusion. As a Marine, I learned the necessity of order. As a deacon, I’ve learned the demands of justice. When people rise up in protest, we must ask: is it a cry for justice or a descent into chaos? Is it protest—or riot?

George Floyd and the Moral Imperative

The death of George Floyd in 2020 was a moral flashpoint. It wasn’t about his past. It was about how he died—pinned to the ground, crying out that he couldn’t breathe, while officers of the law failed to render aid. The Church cannot remain silent when human dignity is so gravely violated. The Catechism is clear: “It is necessary that all participate, each according to his position and role, in promoting the common good” (CCC 1913). That includes defending the inherent dignity of all God’s children, especially when that dignity is denied by those in authority.

The Catholic Church proclaims, without compromise, the inviolable dignity of every human life—from the moment of conception to natural death. This belief is not rooted in politics, but in the truth that each person is made in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:27). The Catechism affirms, “Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception” (CCC 2270) and that “Those whose lives are diminished or weakened deserve special respect” (CCC 2276). This is why the Church ministers to the unborn and the elderly, to the hungry and the homeless, and yes, to the imprisoned. Christ Himself said, “I was in prison and you visited me” (Mt 25:36). Prison ministry is not an endorsement of crime, but a witness to redemption. Outreach to the poor is not a social program, but a sacramental expression of love. In each person, whether saint or sinner, wealthy or destitute, free or incarcerated, the Church sees the face of Christ. This consistent ethic of life is what compels us to oppose both abortion and capital punishment, to defend both the unborn and the undocumented, and to uphold human dignity even when the world casts it aside. True justice must always be joined to mercy, or it ceases to be just.

Floyd’s death sparked legitimate outrage and sorrow, which poured into the streets in protest. Many of those who marched did so peacefully, prayerfully, and with a righteous cause. But something dangerous often follows—rage untethered from reason, protest corrupted into riot.

When Protest Becomes Riot: A Line Crossed

The First Amendment to the United States Constitution affirms, “Congress shall make no law... abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble...” This clause is a cornerstone of American democracy, recognizing that citizens have both the right and the responsibility to speak out, gather, and seek redress of grievances. Peaceful assembly is not only protected—it is a civic virtue. It gives voice to the voiceless, provides a mechanism for social reform, and ensures that those in power remain accountable to the governed. Throughout our nation’s history, peaceful protest has served as a vital force for justice, from the abolitionist movement to women’s suffrage to the Civil Rights era. It is a right rooted in reason and ordered liberty—not disorder, not intimidation, and certainly not violence.

The Church sees in this constitutional right an echo of her own teaching on the dignity of the human person and the moral obligation to pursue the common good. Pope Saint John XXIII affirmed in Pacem in Terris that people have “the right to express their own opinions freely, to engage in an interchange of ideas and to manifest their convictions... especially in matters concerning the common good” (§12). Peaceful protest, then, can be both an exercise in civic duty and a manifestation of the Gospel call to justice. But this right, like all rights, comes with moral responsibility. When a peaceful assembly devolves into destruction, it betrays both the Constitution and the Christian conscience. True protest respects persons, property, and truth. It seeks change through clarity, not chaos—through solidarity, not savagery.

However, as we have seen in Los Angeles—both in the 1992 riots and more recently—and in cities across the nation, what may begin as peaceful assembly can quickly spiral into chaos. I have watched as communities burned—not in response to justice, but in the violence that followed it. In these moments, the cry for justice was drowned out by acts of destruction that ultimately undermined the very cause they claimed to support.

Let me be clear: this is not justice. It is vengeance. And vengeance is not a virtue.

The Church does not condone rioting, looting, or the destruction of innocent life or property. Pope Francis has taught that “violence leads to more violence, hatred to more hatred, death to more death” (Urbi et Orbi, Easter 2022). And Saint John Paul II reminded us, “Freedom is not the right to do what we want, but the ability to do what we ought.” Rioting is not prophetic. It is profane. The Catechism condemns such acts unequivocally: “Theft and deliberate retention of goods of others is morally wrong” (CCC 2401), and even more so when it violates the common good under the guise of justice.

Saint Thomas Aquinas distinguishes between legitimate resistance and sinful sedition. Where civil authorities act unjustly, resistance must remain proportionate, peaceful, and aimed at the restoration of the moral order—not its collapse (ST II-II, Q.42).

Law Enforcement, ICE, and Selective Outrage

Consider also the modern debates around immigration. Agencies like ICE (U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement) did not originate in a single administration—they have operated under Democratic and Republican leadership alike. Raids, deportations, and detentions have happened for decades. Yet, only when media coverage reaches a fever pitch do we see mass protests—or worse, riots—targeting ICE offices and personnel.

Here too, we must apply Catholic moral principles. The Church teaches the right of nations to regulate borders in service of the common good (CCC 2241), but also the obligation to treat every migrant with dignity. Protest is appropriate when immigration enforcement is inhumane or excessive. But destroying public property or threatening officers is not moral courage—it is moral confusion.

Moreover, it’s unjust and spiritually shortsighted to vilify every public servant for the sins of a few. I have served alongside honorable law enforcement officers and know their sacrifices. When they are dehumanized, spit upon, or hunted, society loses something vital. You cannot call for justice by committing injustice.

Constitutional Protections for Non-Citizens

The U.S. Supreme Court has repeatedly affirmed that the Constitution applies to “persons,” not just “citizens.” For example:

In Yick Wo v. Hopkins (1886), the Court held that non-citizens are entitled to equal protection under the 14th Amendment, stating:
“The Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution is not confined to the protection of citizens... These provisions are universal in their application, to all persons within the territorial jurisdiction...”

In Plyler v. Doe (1982), the Court ruled that undocumented children could not be denied access to public education, affirming that even those unlawfully present in the country have protections under the Equal Protection Clause. Thus, non-citizens do have the right to peaceably assemble, speak freely, practice their faith, and receive due process under the law, even if their immigration status is unresolved. This legal recognition aligns closely with the Catholic Church’s affirmation of universal human dignity, which does not depend on legal status.

The Church’s Perspective

From a Catholic perspective, this is not merely a legal technicality—it is a moral imperative. The Church teaches that all people, regardless of national origin or documentation, possess inherent dignity as children of God. As Catechism of the Catholic Church §2241 notes:

“The more prosperous nations are obliged, to the extent they are able, to welcome the foreigner in search of the security and the means of livelihood which he cannot find in his country of origin.”

Therefore, Catholics are called not only to defend the constitutional rights of citizens but also to advocate for the fair and humane treatment of non-citizens. This includes recognizing their rights to peaceful protest, to family unity, to religious freedom, and to due process.

A Marine’s Instinct, A Deacon’s Discernment

As a Marine, my instincts were shaped by duty and structure. As a deacon, my heart is shaped by compassion and truth. I have seen what happens when order collapses and when anger consumes a people. I’ve also seen what faithful, courageous, prayerful protest can achieve—think of the Civil Rights marches led by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who walked arm-in-arm with Catholic clergy, nuns, and laypeople. That was protest ordered toward the good. That was the Gospel in action.

When I see young people march peacefully especially with rosaries, signs, and hymns, I see hope. When I see Molotov cocktails and firebombs, I see the devil at work.

Saint Augustine wrote, “Peace is the tranquility of order.” And the Church teaches that true peace comes not through dominance, but through justice, reconciliation, and mercy (CCC 2304). Protest must always aim toward these ends. Anything less is a distortion of discipleship.

Called to Be Salt and Light

Catholics are not called to passivity in the face of evil. We are called to be salt and light (Mt 5:13–16). That means we must stand against injustice, but never surrender to lawlessness. We must be a voice for the voiceless, not a mob in the streets. The Gospel calls us to act—but to act in love, in truth, and in peace.

We must teach our children how to protest without hatred, how to speak truth without violence, how to resist evil without becoming part of it. The deacon’s stole, worn across the chest in the shape of a servant’s sash, reminds us that our service must always be cruciform—marked by sacrificial love, not political rage.

May we be people who stand with the oppressed, who walk with the wounded, and who reject both injustice and insurrection. In the words of the Prophet Micah: “Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God” (Mic 6:8).

That is neither the way of the Marine nor the deacon alone. It is the way of Christ.

God Bless