From a Proclaimer’s Desk in Minneapolis 

“Holy Resistance”
by Pastor Joe Larson

“Then Jesus called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” — Mark 8:34

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran pastor who dared to defy an oppressive Nazi government. Shortly after Adolf Hitler was appointed chancellor in 1933, Bonhoeffer wrote an essay called, “The Church and the Jewish Question,” which he presented to a meeting of Lutheran pastors. Bonhoeffer’s thesis was that during oppressive regimes, God calls the Church to be a prophetic voice. 

Bonhoeffer proposed that the Church is obligated not to just bandage the victims crushed by the wheels of government, but to become a stick pushed into the spokes of the wheel to stop the vehicle itself. Most of the clergy listening to Bonhoeffer’s words walked out. They were so enmeshed in their country’s anti-Semitism, they couldn’t see why the Church should do anything to stop it. Eventually, Bonhoeffer was jailed and executed for his words and actions. 

Bonhoeffer’s writings inspire me. As a gay Christian who went to seminary when I was young, but didn’t get ordained until 30 years later, I have experienced the oppression of our Church on a personal level. During the past year, I have witnessed a new nationwide oppression targeting our immigrant neighbors with the same white supremacist propaganda used by Nazis so long ago. In Minneapolis, we cry out in response the deaths of people like Renee Good, a lesbian protester who was shot by ICE agents. 

Since mid-December, here in Minnesota we have endured hundreds of our neighbors being threatened, attacked, and disappeared by Operation Surge — an ongoing effort that included more than 3,000 ICE agents in the Twin Cities. Thousands of us have responded by protesting, serving as observers at schools and street corners, providing mutual aid, and organizing on Signal chats.  

All these demonstrations have happened despite our winter weather. Friday, January 23rd was the coldest day of this season — with a temperature of -20° F and -40° wind chill! A day when I participated in an outdoor demonstration of holy resistance organized by two local nonprofits called Isaiah and Faith in Minnesota as part of a “Day of Prayer and Fasting for Truth and Freedom.” 

That morning, I gathered with ninety-eight clergy and faith leaders at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in south Minneapolis, where we loaded onto buses that took us to the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport. We bundled up with multiple layers of clothing with brightly colored stoles over our coats. I sat next to a pastor named Suzanne, and we agreed to stick together as partners during the protest. 

At the airport, we processed to an area where cars drop off travelers for their flights. The plan was to engage in an act of civil disobedience by disrupting traffic — a moral action meant to call attention to how that facility was allowing ICE to be present and use planes to deport detained immigrants. Initially, we gathered with a crowd at an area designated for peaceful protests. But then we clergy stepped forward onto the road and formed a long line. Together we kneeled on the cold ground, sang songs and hymns, chanted protests, prayed, and waited. 

For me it was a spiritual experience. Despite the cold, I felt the warmth of God’s spirit with us. When the police started arresting us one by one, handcuffing us with zip ties, and loading us onto school buses, I imagined Jesus standing beside us. The same Jesus who road on a donkey into Jerusalem to protest an oppressive regime. The same Jesus who overturned tables in the Temple. The same Jesus who was executed by the Roman empire. The same Jesus who told his followers to take up their cross and follow him. 

Our airport protest made national headlines. Like other demonstrations that have continued since then, it was a symbol of moral outrage at what’s happening in our nation. Things are a little better for now in Minnesota, but we have not stopped our vigilance. Every week, my husband and I continue to provide rides to a Latina member of a local Lutheran church because she’s still afraid of using public transportation. Our congregation, Edina Community Lutheran Church, continues organizing our members in resistance efforts and mutual aid projects. I will keep working with organizations like Isaiah and Prism Organizing Network in organizing faith leaders and communities. 

During this Lenten season, I believe God calls us to be a spoke in the wheel of an oppressive empire. Jesus calls us to act with holy resistance and to speak with a prophetic voice. A voice of hospitality for immigrants and people of color. A voice of acceptance for trans and queer individuals. A voice of comfort for those who live in fear. And a voice of welcome for those without a safe home.

Amen.