When you build a new house, make a parapet around your roof so that you may not bring the guilt of bloodshed on your house if someone falls from the roof.
(Deuteronomy 22:8)

On Friday, November 21, 1980 a deadly fire erupted in the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino killing eighty-five people. The fire was tragic not only because of the number of people that died in it, but because their deaths were needless––the MGM Grand had no water sprinklers. A few days later I was sitting in a graduate course on the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible), and the professor began class that morning by speaking rather casually about a strange law found in Deuteronomy 28:2. “Do you know, or remember from your reading,” he asked, “that the Deuteronomic law required that a parapet (a kind of fence or wall) be built around the roof of a house?” As he talked he caught us up in what a strange law that was. Then he pointed out that in ancient Palestine people often used their roofs as living space, and if your good friends with three children between the ages of two and six came over you wouldn’t want one of the kids toppling over the edge of your roof; nor, of course would you want one of the parents after a couple of drinks to moon-walk over the unguarded side and break their neck. You wouldn’t want that he suggested because you care about your friends and their kids; and, the truth is, even if they are sometimes annoying, you love them. Well, actually, even if you are yourself sometimes critical and rather cynical about your fellow human beings, you care enough about people in general that you don’t want anyone falling off your roof and getting hurt––or killed. So you build that little fence or wall to protect visitors. If you don’t it says something about the sort of uncaring person you are––and you ought to be held responsible for that. “Now,” asked the professor, “how might you apply this obscure law from Deuteronomy if you were building a big hotel today?” What he was eliciting, of course, was the understanding that because we love others we act in their best interest though doing so may, in our personal judgment, seem rather small, unnecessary, or inconvenient, in the moment.

So, why should we wear face masks, forgo the joy of meeting for worship with Christian friends until it is safe to do so, or practice social distancing? It is for the same reason the people of Israel built that parapet, or why a hotel/casino owner should know to install sprinkler systems and fire exits––even though it might be a lot of trouble or cost more to do so?

Saturday night I listened to the rant of Arthur Hodges, the pastor of a large Pentecostal Church in Chula Vista. Hodges is unhappy with the limits that have been placed on church gatherings. He thinks them unfair and more onerous than those imposed on other businesses. In fact, he says, such limitations are unconstitutional. What is interesting, is that he was being interviewed because he and his church, South Bay United Pentecostal Church, has just lost its case before the U.S. Supreme Court challenging the attendance restrictions placed on churches. The Supreme Court in a five to four decision rejected the challenge of Pastor Hodges and his church. I say “interesting” because now that the United States Supreme Court has decided the case the limitations imposed on churches during the pandemic are by definition “constitutional” despite Pastor Hodges repeated assertions to the contrary. However, whether such limitations are constitutional and whether or not they are unfair when compare to those imposed on other enterprises is not the question.

The question is not what is legal, or constitutional, or beneficial to the church as a business enterprise––and lets be honest many churches today are nothing more than, as Eugene Peterson pointed out, “shops.” They are businesses, shops, run by shop keepers. Some of them, like South Bay United Pentecostal Church, are highly successful shops run by shrewd managers, and they would howl like wounded wolves if the tax advantages granted them by the state (tax advantages many consider unfair) were taken away. But I digress. Something about self-serving churches and ego centric clergy triggers some usually dormant Kierkegaardian madness in me (See: “My Descent Into Kierkegaardian Madness,” October 11, 2015).

The question for every individual and every church wishing to be genuinely Christian, longing for “God’s will to be manifested on earth as it is in heaven,” is not what is constitutional, or convenient, or what is in the best interest of their “shop.” But what does it mean, especially in times such as this, to act lovingly, to act responsibly, cheerfully and with good will in the legitimate best interest of everyone around us––our family, our friends, our church, and the larger community?