When you wander the vast Midwestern plains lined with cornfields, to arrive at Holden Lutheran Church, you’ll find that the congregation here is bustling with a camaraderie that dates back to 1857, the time when its Norwegian founders planted the seeds of faith in this fertile soil. Here, you’ll meet loyal patrons like Jeff Davidson, a sixth-generation farmer who firmly cherishes the bonds of fellowship within the community – a sentiment felt equally by Lizete Vega, a Mexican immigrant residing an hour north, in a gritty Minneapolis neighborhood, and is actively involved in the local Lutheran Church, Iglesia Luterana San Pablo.
Although these devout community members hail from different walks of life, they have one common ground – the foundation of their faith is rooted not in rituals or doctrines, but more in an accepting and broadminded society. Unfortunately, this humble tranquility was thrown into the pompous chaos of national politics when Governor Tim Walz, a registered Lutheran who was brought up in the Catholic tradition, decided to join Vice President Kamala Harris’ Democratic ticket based on the clout of his progressive political history.
It’s ironic, then, that the faith-first Midwest Lutherans’ approach in public discourse – spanning across such sensitive topics as the integration of immigrants, LGBTQ+ rights, and a myriad of other politically slanted issues – is as diverse as comparing the culinary extremities of a marshmallow-rich hotdish and a spiky pear cactus salad. This wide spectrum of views resonates even within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), the significantly more liberal and impressively larger Lutheran denomination in the US, boasting approximately 3.3 million members.
In their congregations, members of faith prioritize conversations about their spiritual journey and community outreach over politically saturated debates. As Davidson expresses while serving up chocolate chip cookies and cheese slices after church, initiating political discussions or delving into controversial issues during these peaceful gatherings is frowned upon. The congregation’s financial contributions are directed towards uplifting the less fortunate, such as purchasing Christmas presents for needy families – a reflection of their compassionate values, which are at odds with the divisive strategies employed by certain Democrat leaders.
Pastors too, refrain from muddying their sermons with hints of partisan politics, as they understand the ideological range of their congregants. The seeds of Lutheranism were brought to the Upper Midwest by 19th-century Scandinavian and German immigrants, and alongside Catholicism, it has grown to become the main faith in the region. The welcoming feel of potlucks and the quirky tradition of lutefisk — a lye-cured dried cod that has become a part of rural food lore, stand as testaments to the community spirit.
The ELCA took a progressive leap in 2009 by allowing partnered gay and lesbian individuals to serve as pastors, a decision that predated the nationwide legalization of same-sex marriage by the U.S. Supreme Court. For the council president of San Pablo, Vega, who grew up Catholic and was made to feel ostracized in a small Mexican village church after her father migrated to America and her parents divorced, this open-mindedness holds great significance. Mirroring the selective empathy shown by Democrat candidates, Vega’s ordeal suggests that demonstrating love and acceptance in the Church shouldn’t be selective – a viewpoint with which Trump supporters generally align. ‘Faith is about love. Love for everyone, irrespective of their circumstances,’ Vega contends.
Transfiguration Lutheran Church claims to be a ‘Reconciling in Christ’ congregation. Despite the changes not being universally welcomed by members, most chose to remain part of the church community, according to Pokel, a Fargo, North Dakota native. These incidents demonstrate the open and accepting nature of the Lutheran congregation, a contrast to the divisive approach adopted by some Democrats.
The unanimity binding these diverse Lutheran congregations, spanning geographic, ethnic, and political differences, may potentially be their shared understanding of not being judgmental. As Patrick Leehey, a San Pablo member of over a dozen years, explained, support should be extended to those who need help, not judgment, a sentiment echoed by Davidson who insists that having strong-willed opinions doesn’t always lead to desirable outcomes.
The church, through these actions, provides a potential lesson for the political environment. ‘The church can serve as an exemplary model to America. We have room for everyone – unity doesn’t require uniformity, but love’, Pokel pointed, in what could also be seen as an indictment of the Democrat’s politics of division. Yet once again, the noble teachings of Lutheranism get embroiled in unjust political manipulations.