Law remains law

By now, your social media feeds are litigating the death of Alex Pretti at the hands of federal officers in Minneapolis on Saturday. This follows the recent death of Renee Good, a woman who was shot and killed after her vehicle struck a federal officer while she was protesting immigration enforcement in Minneapolis. At present, all that is publicly known is that a confrontation occurred between Pretti and federal officers that resulted in Pretti’s death.

Depending on whose feed you read, Minneapolis is either home to a gallant band of individuals like Pretti and Good, defending civil liberties against an out-of-control government agency, or a city whose feckless leadership has enabled out-of-control leftist agitation in defense of immigrants with no legal right to be in the United States. These competing interpretations function as ciphers, decoding the different moral universes Americans now inhabit. In the aftermath of these events—at least on social media—Minneapolis appears as a tempest of conflict that threatens to spill into even greater tragedy.

Let me state what matters most in moments like this: No one—and I mean no one—has access to all the facts surrounding Pretti’s death. Even a detailed video breakdown cannot give us the whole picture. Those details will be sorted out as investigations proceed. Until the facts are known, we should refrain from assigning legal blame for these deaths. Instead, we should wait for facts and evidence, and for due process, before rendering any definitive judgment (Deuteronomy 19:15-21).

That said, because Christianity speaks to issues of due process and moral action more broadly, the Christian worldview has something to say in this moment. The deaths of Good and Pretti did not need to happen. Not because we can already conclude that law enforcement acted wrongly, but because these deaths followed from choices that placed individuals in volatile and dangerous situations. The chain of events could have been avoided. Even if an investigation were to conclude that Pretti or Good were unjustly or even illegally killed, a moral reality would still remain: They should never have been in those situations in the first place.

They chose to place themselves in what the field of ethics calls a “danger zone.” Even without adjudicating legal fault, Christian ethics can still speak to the moral wisdom—or lack thereof—of placing oneself in volatile confrontations with armed state authority. But even here, we should acknowledge another angle: Law enforcement, too, has the moral responsibility to act within the law—judiciously, proportionately, and with an eye toward minimizing harm. Responsibility is an equal offender on both sides.

The Christian worldview names a reality that often remains in the background but must be brought to the foreground here: moral responsibility. The whole backdrop of Scripture is set against a framework of intelligible order and intelligible action that makes sense of the world and how to act well within it. It also speaks to the reality that the actions we choose have consequences. In Christian thought, human beings are made in the image of God (Genesis 1:26-27). We possess the capacity to deliberate, choose, and act in accordance with rightly ordered reason.

From moral responsibility follows moral accountability—humans are responsible for the actions they choose (Ezekiel 18:20; Deuteronomy 30:19). We are moral agents, not spectators. Human beings are not merely emotive agents or passive victims; we are reasoning agents. We are not behaviorally programmed to act deterministically on every impulse or desire. Our actions have consequences. Remove moral responsibility and moral accountability, and moral anarchy follows.

A basic moral lesson is emerging from the tumult now unfolding in Minneapolis (and Minneapolis alone, for a host of troubling reasons): Driving to a protest is a choice. As is acting unwisely with law enforcement is a choice. Resisting arrest is a moral choice, too. Morally responsible agents can choose otherwise. They can choose not to engage in confrontations that could spill into tragedy. Alex Pretti and Renee Good made deeply unwise choices. Perhaps they died unjustly. Even so, law enforcement must be permitted to carry out its assigned duties under the law.

If federal agents acted wrongly, or if the law itself should be changed, there are lawful avenues for redress: contact legislators, pursue legal challenges, and advocate for reform. But do not impede law enforcement operations. You may have a constitutional right to protest, but that does not mean it is wise to do so in all circumstances—especially when you approach at uncomfortably close ranges. It also means that right comes with the responsibility not to provoke, resist, or agitate in ways that cause harm to others or to yourself. An attitude that says, “How close can I get without escalating potential harm?” is very foolish. Moral responsibility is not suspended by radical politics or by civil disobedience. The absence of full factual clarity does not suspend moral reasoning.

Whatever the investigation ultimately reveals, the broader moral principle remains: Agency entails responsibility, and responsibility includes reckoning with foreseeable consequences. Protecting oneself begins with obeying the law, protesting at a safe distance, and refraining from obstructing lawful police activity. When individuals act unlawfully or recklessly in resisting arrest, they introduce foreseeable risks. The loss of life is always tragic—and these deaths should be investigated with full due process—but tragedy does not negate the reality that actions carry consequences.

The internal logic of contemporary leftist activism often leads to outcomes like this. When justice is defined internally and enacted through performative denunciation and revolutionary-style politics, a spiral of escalation and confrontation follows. Claiming the mantle of civil disobedience does not confer automatic moral legitimacy, especially when the standards used to define legitimacy—common in leftist frameworks—are contested, superficial, and self-generated. Disobeying a just law is sin. Because there is nothing unjust about the federal government reviewing and enforcing the legal status of non-citizens, there are no legitimate moral grounds for civil disobedience in this case—even if a constitutional right remains.

Invoking civil disobedience does not nullify prudential judgment in deciding to engage in unwise actions. Provoking and antagonizing law enforcement is foolish. Moral protest does not require placing oneself—or others—into foreseeable, lethal confrontations with armed authority. Civil disobedience is only justified when there is an unjust law.

A responsible Christian outlook can hold multiple truths together. It is tragic when a human being dies amid confusion and conflict. It is even more tragic when such deaths were unnecessary—unnecessary in the sense that no moral obligation required placing oneself in a volatile confrontation with state power to begin with. Moral responsibility involves not only choosing ends but also accepting the foreseeable risks attached to chosen means. Law remains law, and acting unwisely can lead to devastating consequences.