Dave Amos identifies a paradox that has long plagued American urbanism: the very institutions built to serve communities are often legally barred from solving the community's most pressing crisis. By reframing the housing shortage not just as a zoning failure but as a religious liberty issue, Amos suggests that faith-based organizations could be the "Trojan horses" needed to bypass entrenched neighborhood opposition.
The Radical Sacrifice
Amos opens with a deeply personal narrative about St. John's Lutheran Church in Madison, Wisconsin, a congregation facing the painful reality of declining attendance and rising maintenance costs. "This is a congregation that doesn't need a building as large as it has right now," he observes, setting the stage for a proposal that feels almost sacrificial. The church plans to demolish its historic structure to erect a ten-story tower containing 130 units of affordable housing, retaining only a small worship space on the ground floor.
This is not merely a real estate transaction; it is a theological pivot. Amos notes that for progressive congregations, the math of survival often aligns with the mission of service. "It's hard to argue that they're not converting it to the best possible use for them," he writes, highlighting the emotional weight of the decision. The author acknowledges the sadness of losing a space filled with family memories but argues that the utility of the land outweighs the sentimentality of the structure.
"Some religious leaders believe it's morally wrong to take a sacred space and develop it into a secular use."
Critics of this approach might argue that demolishing historic religious architecture erases cultural heritage and that the "sacred" nature of a building cannot be simply transferred to a new structure. However, Amos suggests that for many, the true sacred act is housing the vulnerable, not preserving the walls that once held them.
The Zoning Wall
The narrative shifts from the specific to the systemic as Amos explains why this radical solution is so rare. The primary obstacle is not a lack of will or land, but the rigid architecture of American zoning codes. He points out that while churches are often permitted in low-density zones, the housing they could build is strictly forbidden. "What is not allowed is multifamily housing," Amos states regarding a typical single-family zone, illustrating how the law actively prevents these organizations from helping.
The author introduces the concept of "Yiggby" (Yes In God's Backyard) as a counter-movement to the notorious "NIMBY" (Not In My Backyard) phenomenon. The core of the argument is that faith-based organizations possess a unique moral and physical footprint that should allow them to bypass local resistance. "It's like these religious institutions have infiltrated these single family neighborhoods and now have the power to sneak in some affordable housing like Trojan horses," Amos writes, using a vivid metaphor to describe how these buildings can introduce density where it was previously rejected.
Legislative Breakthroughs
Amos provides concrete evidence that this theory is working, pointing to California's Senate Bill 4 as a transformative precedent. The legislation allows faith-based groups to build affordable housing "by right," effectively overriding local zoning restrictions that would otherwise block them. "A mosque, for example, couldn't just go building a skyscraper filled with luxury apartments," he clarifies, noting the law's safeguards that ensure the development remains affordable and modest in scale.
The impact of such laws is staggering. Citing a study from UC Berkeley, Amos reveals that the new law unlocked land nearly five times the size of Oakland, much of it located in high-opportunity neighborhoods. "This bill won't concentrate poverty, but instead provide opportunities and ensure fairness," he argues, positioning the legislation as a tool for economic integration rather than just construction.
"Yiggby can be the loophole needed to get these neighborhoods to build affordable housing."
While the success in California and Florida is promising, a counterargument worth considering is whether these state-level mandates truly respect local autonomy or if they simply shift the conflict from zoning boards to the courts. Furthermore, the requirement that organizations maintain active worship services on-site could prove difficult for congregations that are already struggling to fill their pews, potentially creating a new bureaucratic hurdle.
The Constitutional Argument
Perhaps the most provocative element of Amos's coverage is the exploration of a legal theory that could render new laws unnecessary. He delves into the argument that preventing a church from building housing might actually violate the First Amendment's Free Exercise Clause. "If a city tried to prevent the construction of that housing, they'd be violating the organization's First Amendment right to freely exercise their religion," he posits.
This line of reasoning relies on the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act (RLUIPA), a federal law designed to protect religious entities from discriminatory zoning. Amos suggests that if providing housing is central to a religion's doctrine, then zoning codes that block it constitute a "substantial burden" without a compelling public interest. "A solid argument could be made that preventing the construction of affordable housing during a housing crisis is the opposite of a compelling public interest," he writes, turning the traditional zoning defense on its head.
This argument remains untested at the Supreme Court level, leaving it as a theoretical weapon rather than a proven shield. However, it underscores the deepening tension between local land-use control and religious freedom. As Amos concludes, the question is no longer just about where we can build, but whether the law should recognize housing the poor as a fundamental religious duty.
Bottom Line
Dave Amos's coverage succeeds by reframing the housing crisis as a moral and legal opportunity for faith-based organizations, moving beyond standard policy debates to explore the intersection of scripture and zoning. While the "Yiggby" movement offers a pragmatic path forward through state legislation, its biggest vulnerability lies in the potential for legal pushback and the practical challenges of maintaining active worship in a repurposed building. The strongest takeaway is that the solution to the housing crisis may already be sitting in our backyards, waiting for the law to catch up to the mission.