One of the questions to arise out of the COVID inquiry is about what our attitude as Christians is to risk and what it should be. For some, churches were seen to be far too risk averse and this was associated with a perceived over passive compliance with Government regulation and guidance. For others, the perception is that we were too gung-ho, too ready to re-open without enough concern about the risks from the pandemic, particularly for the elderly and vulnerable.
So how do we get the balance right between being alert to risk and danger and demonstrating faith in God and his ability to care for us as we live obediently to his calling? Well, it is worth noting that where our wider culture has a concern for risk, it arises out of Biblical/Christian principles.
The foundational case that sets out the Law of Negligence is Donaghue v Stephenson (1932). In the case, the claimant had been drinking a bottle of ginger beer in a café and when they opened it, they found a snail in it. Now usually, if you have a problem with a product, then you are protected by contract law, however, the claimant was not the actual customer, it had been bought for them but furthermore, the bottle glass was opaque and so the café would not have been able to spot the problem. So, the case was taken against the manufacturer.
The question was “did the manufacturer have a duty of care to the claimant?” The judge, Lord Atkins determined that this depended on whether or not the claimant could be considered a neighbour. If someone is your neighbour (the neighbour principle), then you have a duty of care to them. This is now a crucial principle in English law. You will recognise though that Atkins was asking an age old question, a question that Jesus was asked and at the heart of it is the belief that our responsibility is to love our neighbour because this was identified by Jesus both as the second most important commandment and along with the first commandment to love God, a summary of The Law.
Part of the reason as to why we are concerned about risk management is because we recognise that we have a duty of care arising out of neighbourly love. This is both a moral duty that we see in Scripture and a legal obligation too although even that legal obligation arises out of an interpretation and application of Scripture.
This means that when we look at the Bible and in particular the Torah, we see that quite a few of the commandments are about how we exercise that duty of care, how do we love our neighbours? This includes a recognition that there is responsibility for death and injury, it includes examples such as the requirement to put parapets around the roofs of houses.[1]
However, what we haven’t answered yet is what the content of that duty of care is. I doubt that there would be much dispute between Christians that we have this duty, that we are meant to love our neighbours. However, if we see love for neighbour purely in terms of practical care and risk mitigation then we may see this as potentially in conflict with the first commandment, to love God and if that commandment comes first, then surely, the command to love God takes priority. I think that this is a mistake, we shouldn’t see the second command as potentially in conflict, rather, we see it as second because it is a means to obeying the first. One way in which I love God with my whole heart is by loving my neighbour as myself.
This means that when we think about something such as “Should we gather in person during a serious pandemic”, then we recognise that there are two primary risks. First, a decision to meet might put people at risk of serious illness, hospitalisation and death. This would be both neglect of the second commandment, we would fail to love them and neglect of the first commandment because by failing to love our neighbour, we would be failing to recognise the image of God in them which gives their life value. We would be like those who failed to offer food and clothing to the least of their brothers and in so doing failed to do this for Jesus.
Secondly, though there is the risk of failing to be a good witness to others, both to non believers who might be put off the Gospel and to believers who might feel isolated from the body as a result. So, there is a spiritual as well as a practical risk in such decisions.
However, our focus can be purely on the risks of choosing to meet. It is worth observing two further considerations here. First, that for much of the pandemic, the question was not a binary one “do we meet or not meet at all?” Rather, there were considerations about how we met. Should we require social distancing and to what extent? Should singing be included? What about face masks? Will it be safe to share the Lord’s Supper? Should we meet for shorter periods of time? What level of cleaning should be undertaken between gatherings? Do we require people to test negative before attending? What should our attitude be to “COVID passports”? Each decision came with its own specific risks.
Second, we can forget that a decision not to meet came with its risks too. First, there were practical, physical risks. Failing to provide in person gathering risked further isolating those who were often the most vulnerable. COVID was not the only threat to well-being during the pandemic. Secondly, if we take seriously the command to gather, if we see our chief end as being to glorify and enjoy God (worship), if we believe that God’s people need spiritual food then choosing not to gather also created spiritual risks too. Indeed, if we were seen to be acting out of fear then this could have been a bad witness to some just as an appearance of gung-ho recklessness in gathering would have been a bad witness to others.
Now recognising that there are risks on both sides of a decision helps us to recognise something else that belongs more in our practical considerations than theological concerns. Not every risk is of equal weight. In industry, whenever I carried out a risk assessment, I would need to do three further things. First, I would assess the probability of something happening, second I would identify the impact (high or low) on the particular event or organisation should the risk become a reality. I would then focus on those risks that would have a high impact and were highly probably, for those I would draw up a mitigation plan and cost it. Too often I’ve seen people simply draw up a list of potential risks without then assessing them. They either attempt to mitigate everyone or they become overwhelmed by the long list and so do nothing. Perhaps we need to be reminded from the parable of the talents that there is a risk and a cost to doing nothing as well!
I said at the start that we want to think about how we balance appropriate risk awareness with strong faith. However, I’m not sure that is quite right. I suspect that a lot of us have grown up hearing statements along the lines of “Faith is spelt R-I-S-K”. So, here is the question. Where in the Bible does it say that? Perhaps we would do better to look at what Scripture says faith is. A good place to start might be the letter from James. There we discover that faith is something that is evidenced by our words and our deeds. Faith is seen as we show our trust in God by obeying him, even when it is costly to us.
In other words, our faith is seen not so much when I take a risk. I’m not saying that we don’t take risks after assessing the cost. Our faith is seen as we observe that duty of care to love our neighbours.
[1] Deuteronomy 22:8.
Faithroots 
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