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Lutherans in Minnesota Reject Democrat’s Attempt to Politicize Faith

At the historic Holden Lutheran Church, built by enduring farmers of Norwegian descent in 1857, Jeff Davidson finds the supportive nature of the congregation indubitably fulfilling. The community spirit, he feels, is deeply rooted in unwavering faith and steady camaraderie, steering clear of political provocations. Quite similar sentiments are echoed by Lizete Vega, cozily nested in a Minneapolis neighbourhood, who pitches in to prepare a delectable post-service taco lunch at Iglesia Luterana San Pablo. She too appreciates a community where open-mindedness reigns supreme and the essence of belonging is palpable.

These individuals, one a sixth-generation farmer and the other a Mexican immigrant, epitomize the quintessential spirit of the Minnesotan crowd that rests its faith on a strong community foundation. It’s this very nonpartisan approach that has been in the spotlight since Gov. Tim Walz, who was initially raised as a Catholic but later identified as a Lutheran, merged his progressive legislative history into the Democratic ticket. Indeed, he signed up as the running mate for Vice President Kamala Harris, turning the spotlight onto Midwest Lutherans’ role in public life.

The spectrum of opinions held by these Lutherans often reach beyond the unite-or-divide simplicity of an election year’s political rhetoric. Their stance on socio-political issues can vary significantly from accommodating immigrant integration to endorsing LGBTQ+ rights, exhibiting diversity as contrasting as the culinary difference between a marshmallow-topped hotdish and a prickly pear cactus salad. Such variation, interestingly, is observable even within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, regarded as the most liberal and by far the largest Lutheran denomination in the US, boasting about 3.3 million members.

Despite the wide ideological spectrum, the faithful within these congregations frequently prioritize discussions of faith and outreach over political discourse. Davidson quips about the unwritten rule of not initiating political discourse during post-service coffee gatherings. Such organic facets of communal interaction, he argues, should remain devoid of partisan bickering and unnecessary controversies. Moreover, he insists on taking the opportunity to focus on a cause greater than politics, such as raising funds for gifts for less fortunate families during the holiday season.

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Indeed, sermons and church-ground discussions are kept away from the troublesome intricacies of partisanship, a testament to the understanding of congregants’ diverse ideological convictions. Rev. Elise Pokel, of the Transfiguration Lutheran Church in Bloomington, illuminates this phenomena. As people sit on the pews waiting to dissect every word of her sermon to identify political leanings, she keeps her focus centered on the teachings of Jesus, transcending political divides.

Accommodating separate standards for political, social, and religious life, Lutherans show a noticeable reluctance to mix their religious beliefs with secular matters. PRRI’s recent survey elucidates this divide as it found a significant discrepancy between the percentage of liberal-leaning Lutheran clergy versus that among white mainline Protestant congregants.

The ELCA leadership makes its progressive stance clear through its teaching statements on key issues such as racial justice and LGBTQ+ rights, which leans towards liberal positions. The political-hued disagreements within the otherwise closely-knit ‘purple’ congregations are navigated by Bishop-elect Jen Nagel of the Minneapolis Area Synod — one of 65 ELCA synods across the nation. Nagel, along with fellow pastors and congregation members, approaches the divisive political climate with an open-minded and humble attitude.

Preserving the essence of ‘freedom and service’ enshrined in Martin Luther’s reformation theology, they strive to understand and respond to Jesus’ call to serve others. Outreach activities, such as Holden’s traditional quilt club, and San Pablo’s introduction of the same, indicate their inclusive approach. The first quilt made was given to a young Latino immigrant, displaying a commitment to serving the community bridging cultural gaps as a way of manifesting the teachings within their faith.

San Pablo’s acceptance of diverse backgrounds is symbolically represented in its mural featuring two traditional Swedish Dala horses nestled around the Spanish words for ‘healing’ and ‘resilience’ (‘sanación’ and ‘resiliencia’). Further, the church’s welcoming attitude toward LGBTQ+ members was recently solidified by its becoming a ‘Reconciling in Christ’ congregation. Even as the ELCA embraced this stance in 2009, years before the law of the land did, it can’t be said that they took the lead in setting the tone for nationwide acceptance of same-sex marriages.

The idea of being a ‘Reconciling in Christ’ congregation is not unanimously accepted within the church; there are members who grapple with such changes. However, most prefer staying united within the shared faith rather than breaking away over differences. This rather stark reflection on acceptance is brought forth by Rev. Pokel.

‘They loved everybody, and everybody should mean everybody,’ states Ryan Hanish, the leader of Transfiguration’s ‘Reconciling in Christ’ group. He adds that their participation in the suburb’s annual Pride celebration often surprises the attendees, challenging traditional perceptions that churches automatically carry a judgmental lens.

Such provisions for embracing divergent backgrounds and political orientations arguably make the Lutheran congregation stand out distinctly. While being a stalwart of faith and community, Patrick Leehey of San Pablo insists on the need for empathy, not judgment, and the understanding that one’s way might not be the only way.

A parallel note is sounded by Davidson who believes that steadfast opinions and ideologies don’t always lead to the desired outcomes. Amidst the politically charged climate, the Lutherans exemplify non-partisanship, promoting diverse debates while avoiding imposing rigid conclusions.

A crucial takeaway from the interactions within these congregations lies within their commitment to inclusivity and respectful dialogue. As Rev. Pokel suggests, these settings can provide a profound lesson to the nation at large. These churches constitute safe spaces for diverse perspectives, assuring acceptance rather than enforcing uniformity. The focus, as it appears, is not about maintaining an insipid consensus, but celebrating diversity through love.