Surprise: A California County Went Full-Eliott Ness to Spy on a Church During COVID

AP Photo/Cedar Attanasio

In the criminal justice system, people who tend to disagree with the government are aggressively investigated by the elite members of the Santa Clara County COVID-19 Business Compliance Unit. These are their stories.

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And cue the “Law & Order” sound effect.

Yes, it’s Law & Order: BCU

Yesterday, I told you about a Chinese app designed to track people who wanted to attend religious services in the Henan province. At the time I opined that governors like Gavin Newsom would salivate over that kind of technology and that something like that was probably headed our way soon. But as it turns out, Santa Clara County in California was already taking a boots-on-the-ground approach when it came to spying on and harassing an area church. Writing on his Substack, Silent Lunch, journalist David Zweig tells the tale of how between November 2020 and January 2021, the Santa Clara County COVID-19 Business Compliance Unit (you thought I made that name up, didn’t you?) went all-in to spy on a church that bucked the ham-handed and unevenly applied lockdown mandates.*

Calvary Chapel San Jose attracted the attention of county snoops on On May 24, 2020. That day, pastor Mike McClure said that he would reopen the church despite the COVID-19 restrictions. And for that matter, the church would stay open. Such a move was bound not to be well-received in California, and even less so in Santa Clara County, which had been particularly aggressive in enforcing lockdown rules. But McClure had seen the devastating effects that enforced isolation had on his congregation. For example, one man said his church attendance kept him from entertaining thoughts of suicide as the quarantine merged with other difficult life events. Another found that church attendance gave him the strength to stave off his urges for alcohol and drugs as the crushing isolation took its toll. A woman said that the fellowship at Calvary Chapel San Jose helped save her son, who struggled with substance abuse after the lockdown cost him an apprenticeship in plumbing. A pastor was able to tie the woman in with a program that she credits with saving her son’s life.

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On August 21, 2020, the church was hit with a cease-and-desist letter from the county. At issue were the crimes of meeting indoors, failure of members to mask and social distance, and, of course, singing. Two days later, a pair of officers from the COVID-19 Business Compliance Unit were at the church and saw at least 100 people doing all of those things. As Zweig writes:

So began a series of issuances of fines for violations every single day, beginning in August, and running through the spring of 2021. The fines began at $1,000 each. Per the terms of the public health order, there was no grace period, and the amounts doubled each day that the violations were not corrected until a maximum of $5,000 per day was reached. By October 27, 2020, the county had already fined Calvary $350,000.

By the time September rolled around, churches in the county still could not meet indoors. But shopping malls could operate at fifty percent capacity. In October, churches could have either 100 people or twenty-five percent of their capacity on campus. Museums could accommodate fifty percent of their capacities, and stores had no limits. But at this point, Santa Clara County was determined to bring the hammer down on Calvary Chapel San Jose. To do that, they needed evidence.

And cue the “Law & Order” sound effect, again.

On August 23, 2020, surveillance operations commenced. The following chain of events would be comical if they were not so egregious. First, the BCU visited the church and then left the “crime scene” to write a “notice of violation” for the indoor gathering, people not masking, failing to social distance, and yes, that most heinous of all crimes, singing. I’m no fan of contemporary Christian music, but come on. Singing? When the officers returned to issue the notice, they were refused entry. The enforcement agents were told to never return, but they had not yet begun to fight. Over and over again, enforcement officers from the BCU would set up a base camp at the next-door church and watch the people through a chain link fence. Seriously. But, that was just the start. They kept tallies of the number of people being greeted outside the church each week and even counted cars in the parking lot to form an estimate of how many members might be inside. The church also had traffic directors in the parking lot. Much to the chagrin of officers, these traffic directors did not wear masks, even though they were in the open air. And some people were hugging. Hugging! What in the name of Jonas Salk did these scofflaws, these…these walking vectors think they were doing? Zweig wryly points out that Calvary Chapel San Jose streams its services online. So the enforcement officers could have stayed at home in their pajamas and gathered info over a cup of coffee. But as we all know, it is always more fun to deploy. Then you get to play with cameras, binoculars, and walkie-talkies. Maybe you can even get a cool call sign.

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This kabuki went on until November. A judge issued an order that allowed the intrepid members of the BCU to enter the premises.

And cue the “Law & Order” sound effect, again.

This time, the BCU enforcement team timed their arrivals around events at the church. Zweig writes:

The officers returned repeatedly, often specifically on days and at times they knew there would be gatherings, such as bible study classes, youth events, and on Sundays for services. The cataloging of church members, their actions, and violations continues in the declarations ad infinitum. Women drinking coffee in a hallway. In the church cafe 11 young adults gathered, not wearing masks or distancing. Another youth gathering was noted for having chairs “arranged in a manner that did not allow for social distancing.” The officers observed baptisms, describing McClure touching the faces of baptismal candidates and pinching their noses as he submerged them in water (presumably this was marked down as a double violation of not masking and not distancing).

Officers were also on hand for an event called Manna for Moms. Just in case they hadn’t given off enough of a stalker vibe, they did most of their “observing” of this event through windows. Because being a peeper is the fastest way to build trust and credibility. The overall price tag to the county for the antics? $219 per officer per hour. And there were hundreds of officers. Small wonder California is broke.

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This is, of course, the 21st century. So why get in touch with your inner freak looking through windows when technology is at your disposal? With that in mind, the officers set up a geofence around the church, allowing them to monitor cell phones and track how many people were at the church on any given day. This technology can also be used to see where people go after they leave. Of course, it was all anonymized. Right.

Currently, there are two lawsuits. One is by the church against the county for the violation of constitutional rights. The other was filed by the county against the church for its failure to pay fines and for violating public health orders. Zweig adds:

In February 2021, the US Supreme Court struck down California’s ban on gathering in churches. As a result, Santa Clara has dropped its complaint against Calvary for gathering violations, and instead is only suing for masking violations. As is well-accepted now by nearly all public health officials, there is no evidence that cloth masks — the only kind that were mandated — have any meaningful benefit at the population level. Currently, the county is seeking $2.78 million, and a decision is expected this spring.

I’ve met these kinds of people before. People who have waited and waited for that one moment, that one crisis, so they could puff their chests out, bark orders, and hand down sanctions. These are the kinds of people who saw the pandemic as a path to power. People who enjoyed swaggering around like Matt Dillon. Small, mean, petty people who sought to lift themselves up by standing on the necks of others. And that was the unspoken danger of the pandemic. It it will return with the next crisis, whatever it may be.

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For a deeper dive into how other California houses of worship reacted to the lockdowns, click here.

 

 

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