Don’t hide behind the religious exemption to avoid COVID vaccine
In 18th century New England, a young lawyer named John Bolles became one of the first in the New World to argue for a religious exemption in his defense of two women who stripped naked at a public meeting to protest the treatment of Quakers by Puritans.
Bolles argued that such holy nakedness was protected, since “Isaiah went naked” in the Bible. This defense convinced few but ever since, America has had a complicated relationship with religious exemptions to civil laws.
Recently, Gov. Gavin Newsom announced that his vaccine mandate for California students will include an option for a religious exemption, but any study of the history of religious exemptions reveals that its implementation might be inconsistent, at best.
Most of the discussion on religious exemptions at the end of the 18th century involved pacifist Quakers’ refusal to join the army, but conscientious objection to war has not been the only arena where religious exemptions have been claimed. For example, in 1879, the Supreme Court determined that members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints were not exempt from polygamy laws.
By the 1960s, the court had taken a decidedly more positive view of religious exemptions, and decided the possibility of claiming a religious exemption should be the presumption, and the government needed to argue specific and compelling interests for rejecting these exemptions.
Public health has often been cited as one such compelling interest, including in 2015 when the California Legislature eliminated the religious exemption for the measles vaccine after a statewide outbreak occurred and studies showed the religious exemption was being exploited.
In recent years, religious exemptions have been exploited by both political parties to the advantage of their bases. For example, in the last decade it has been employed by conservatives to argue that Hobby Lobby should be exempt from the birth control clause of the Affordable Care Act, but it has also been employed by more liberal justices to defend the religious use of psychedelics and the right of Muslim prisoners to wear beards despite prison dress codes prohibiting facial hair.
Yet, today, as with so many issues, the positions of the far left and the far right have converged. A conservative church in Tulsa, Oklahoma, will provide an official-looking letter to anyone who pays $50 certifying that you “virtually” belong to a church that opposes vaccines, while a yoga studio in Washington has claimed a religious exemption to avoid following COVID protocols.
While the patchwork of federal standards and state statues vary, generally the standard for a religious exemption is that a claimant must have a demonstrated “sincerely held personal belief” that conflicts with upholding the law. The reality is that it is very difficult to investigate or substantiate sincerity; many a potential lover has been deeply sincere in the evening only to lose such commitment in the morning. The government seems in no position to adjudicate the internal predilections of individuals.
While I am skeptical of courts arbitrating sincerity, is it too much to ask for consistency?
For example, while I disagree with Christian Scientists’ rejection of modern medicine, I respect that if they choose to refuse vaccination and contract COVID, they will also not burden the very medical system that is telling them that they should get a vaccine; indeed, they will not see doctors for any ailment
Likewise, if one morally holds that fetal cells should not be used in the testing of vaccines, then I respect your right to reject the COVID vaccine; however, such a person should also reject Advil, Pepto Bismol, Tums, Lipitor, Benadryl, Preparation H, Claritin and most treatments found in a pharmacy. If one is using any of these medicines and only applying the fetal exemption to the COVID vaccine, I suspect it is not actually a moral qualm behind the refusal but a political statement.
The stakes are vital: vaccine skeptics may genuinely believe their choice does not affect others, but not only does it expose the most vulnerable to increased medical risk and raise the total costs taken on by the medical system (which will eventually impact insurance rates, while overwhelming hospitals in the meantime) but it also compromises our longstanding commitment to the very religious liberty they assert.
Whenever an opportunistic claim of religious exemptions is made, it betrays the consciences of those who hold this issue central to their beliefs. Will the long-standing pacifism of Quakers or sacred use of peyote by the Native American Church or the exemption to medicine by Christian Scientists continue to be respected by lawmakers if broad swaths of our population cling to a religious exemption to justify their political opposition?
Finally, I hope those who are using the religious exemption to justify their political position consider the theological implications of their choice. When someone falsely claims religion as the basis of a political view, that person is literally taking the Lord’s name in vain.
If you have a problem with government, then respectfully let public officials know, or resort to the courts to make your case, but do not hide behind religion. For God’s sake, take a stand, if you must. But let’s not let the good name of God be weaponized for your political purposes. Is that too much to pray for today?
Contributing columnist Stephen Lloyd-Moffett is a professor of religious studies at Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo.
This story was originally published October 31, 2021 at 5:30 AM.