A surprising number of deacons in my diocese are retired cops — an indication, perhaps, of how deeply the call to serve others filters through every aspect of their lives.

Now a paper in upstate New York has taken a closer look at this phenomenon, and discovered that it’s not just a Catholic thing:

Dressed in a traditional white alb with a green stole across his body, Deacon Wil Johnson got up before the parishioners at St. Thomas More in Brighton on a recent weekend and delivered the homily.

Johnson told the crowd that despite their hectic daily schedules, they should have some quiet time to listen to God because prayer is a “two-way conversation” that can lead to “something wonderful.”

That two-way conversation is what Johnson said led him to become a deacon and teach others about the word of God.

Deacon Wil, as Johnson is known by his parishioners, is also Lt. Wil Johnson, a 26-year veteran of the Rochester Police Department.

Johnson and at least four other men who wear blue five days each week have taken religious leadership roles in local churches. Despite sometimes working odd hours as sworn members of the Rochester Police Department, some of these men say balancing their police duties and their religious duties is not too complicated.

“I find them both … geared to serving God’s people,” Johnson, 53, said. “We’re taught to be the light of Christ whether I have a (police) uniform or an alb.”

Johnson was ordained less than four years ago after completing a four-year master’s program at St. Bernard’s School of Theology and Ministry. As a deacon, a voluntary position within the Catholic Church, Johnson runs several programs within the two Brighton churches he serves — St. Thomas More and Our Lady Queen of Peace — such as baptism and marriage preparation classes. He also conducts funerals and can deliver homilies.

The Rev. Chuck Lorrain, executive director of the International Conference of Police Chaplains in Destin, Fla., said most police officers have a religious connection in some way, but some just take it further than others.

“The job they do, not the administrative jobs but the street officers … I personally don’t see how they could not have a faith base,” Lorrain said. “They see the negative extremes of society.”

Officer Bill Finnerty, who is an associate pastor at Open Door Baptist Church in Chili, said his accountability to the Police Department and to his church was bumped up to a higher level when he became heavily involved at Open Door Baptist.

“You know you are now responsible for both. … What I do here affects a greater number of people,” Finnerty said about having the pressure to not let anyone down.

Finnerty, 44, joined the Rochester Police Department in 1988 but left in 1993 to go to a four-year Baptist Bible College in Springfield, Mo. He received a bachelor’s degree in missions and worked as an associate pastor in an Ohio church for about eight months. In 1998, he came back to Rochester and rejoined the Police Department. Finnerty also took an associate pastor position at Open Door Baptist Church, where he works about 10 to 15 hours each week and travels frequently to visit the church’s missionaries in other parts of the world, such as Kenya, the Philippines and India.

Executive Deputy Police Chief George Markert said the department has not had any conflicts between sworn officers and part-time religious duties, adding that the members set their own boundaries.

Markert said it is common for people in the Police Department to have other side jobs “just as long as they don’t mix the two.” But he said the members who have religious roles in the community add value to the department because their approach to situations is sometimes different.

Capt. Ed Giblin, a 23-year veteran with the Rochester police and a deacon at Holy Cross Church in the Charlotte neighborhood, said that being involved in the religious world has helped the way he views situations in his law enforcement career.

“The job can get you kind of cynical, so you try to emphasize that there are still a lot of good people,” Giblin said.

Giblin, 48, was raised in an Irish Catholic family in which most of the men were cops and said he thinks he has the both of best worlds and wouldn’t give up either position. He was ordained a deacon in 2000 after receiving a degree from St. Bernard’s School of Theology and Ministry in Pittsford. Giblin said he chose to be a deacon because growing up he had good influences from deacons at his church in Montclair, N.J.

“I considered a vocation for priesthood but decided it wasn’t for me. … Deacon is open to us married guys,” he said.

But 13-year Rochester police veteran Lt. Mark Dibelka grew up without religion in his life until he was in high school and started going to sing at area churches in his California hometown as part of his high school’s acapella group. Dibelka was a member of the Lutheran Church for several years in his early adulthood but decided it was not a good fit for him. He eventually settled into the Unitarian Universalist Association.

Dibelka, 38, was ordained in January 2008 and is an independent nondenominational minister and an assistant pastor of Our Fellowship and Joining Hands Ministry. He said his experience as a police officer has helped him in his ministry.

“You spend most of your time caring for needs of others and helping them with their problems,” Dibelka said, adding that his problem-solving skills come from more than a decade of police work.

Dibelka, who is currently working toward his master of divinity degree at Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School, recently applied for a chaplain position with the New York Army National Guard.

“I feel the need to provide a guiding light,” Dibelka said about helping those who are returning from combat and have suffered different levels of spiritual crisis. “I can help them deal with their needs before they become psychiatric needs.”

Check out the link for the rest.

PHOTO: Deacon Wil Johnson, a lieutenant with the Rochester Police Department, delivers the homily at St. Thomas More Church in Brighton on Jan. 18. (Photo by Kris J. Murante, Rochester Democrat and Chronicle.)