Some in the South Dakota Legislature want to require that the Ten Commandments be posted in every public-school classroom. They claim this honors the historical Christian influence in our state and …
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Some in the South Dakota Legislature want to require that the Ten Commandments be posted in every public-school classroom. They claim this honors the historical Christian influence in our state and region. But if we are going to do so, we must do it authentically and faithfully.
Lutheranism has long been THE majority Christian tradition in the state and region and a huge presence across the country. Luther’s writings are foundational to most of Protestantism. For Lutherans, like for Roman Catholics and mainline Protestants, the Ten Commandments are not just a list of moral principles — they are part of a deeply structured faith practice. Many of us first began studying them through Luther’s Small Catechism, received as a child at Baptism, reaffirmed at Confirmation, and understood as an ongoing call to reflection, responsibility, and grace. They are not intended to be a coat of arms or a talisman — but to be lived. They are “a curb and a mirror.”
The Reformation and the Catholic Counter-Reformation ignited out of defiance against religious and political institutions seeking to control people through religious imposition. Luther opposed any union of church and state that allows authorities to dictate doctrine or use religious law as a tool of control. He was wanted dead or alive by the religious and political powers of his day for holding them to account. (If you think that’s shocking, wait until you hear about the run-in Jesus had with established state and religious leaders.)
To counter this, Luther wrote the Small Catechism — a guide to Christian belief designed for families to teach their faith at home. He insisted that faith should be passed down personally and thoughtfully WITHIN faith communities and families, not forced by any authority or achieved through prescribed transactions. Literal wars were fought over this stuff, several of them.
And yet, here we are, centuries later, watching political leaders try to use the commandments in precisely the way Luther fought against — not as a tool for spiritual growth, but as a political instrument. If Luther were alive today, he would almost certainly call this legislation “as useful as a pair of wooden trousers.” When certain Pharisees peddled empty, performative acts of holiness that masked the absence of justice, mercy, and grace, He called them “whitewashed tombs which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.”
If South Dakota lawmakers insist on posting the Ten Commandments in our schools under the banner of “honoring Christian tradition,” then integrity demands that we also ask Luther’s question of each, “What does this mean?” No conventional interpretation of these commandments aligns with the selective, surface-level usage that political actors often invoke. Let’s go back to Sunday school...
But, is this what your legislators want you to be reminded of every time you see these “rules” on a wall?
We haven’t addressed the fact that if the promises of the Gospel do not belong to those outside of the Church and the faith, then the obligations of faith, “the Law,” do not belong to them either. The Ten Commandments are a sacred covenant for believers. This legislation cheapens them by reducing them to a big-government-issued slogan. Theocracy, like post-1979 Iran.
It’s worthy of note, the Lutheran and other Protestant churches have denounced all personal statements of Luther, implicit or explicit, which reflect the rampant misogynistic, classist, racist, anti-Muslim, and antisemitic sentiments of the era in which he lived and any that challenge religious liberty. And, if we are truly committed to Christian posturing, why not do it right? Christians must not only view Old Testament Law with New Testament eyes, but also champion Jesus’ examples of morality and follow the marching orders He explicitly gave. So, why are legislators not pushing to mandate the display of the Beatitudes and Jesus’ Greatest Commandment to selflessly love the neighbor as the self? (Interestingly, “mandatum” gave the Church the term “Maundy Thursday” because it is when Jesus mandated the selfless, unconditional love of others—His dying wish for humanity on the eve of the Crucifixion.)
Jesus did not say, “Blessed are those who enforce or those who obey.” He said:
Blessed are the poor in spirit and those who mourn. Blessed are the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemaker, and those who are persecuted for the sake of justice. Blessed are those who are reviled and falsely accused.
If these are the values Jesus himself taught, why is there not a legislative push to post them on classroom walls?
And, what would the exact opposite of the Beatitudes — the Malitudes — look like?
Cursed are the arrogant and greedy and those who harden their hearts to suffering. Cursed are the ruthless and the merciless, the deceivers, and the power-hungry. Cursed are those who stir up conflict, division, and war (military, humanitarian, or economic). Cursed are those who silence and burden others for their own gain or for an (920-page) agenda.
We must ask ourselves: Which list do so many self-professing Christians in politics resemble today? Why not a classroom banner that says: “LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF.” — Jesus Christ”
This push to display the Ten Commandments is not about faith — it is about power. It is about using religious symbols as a cultural weapon rather than as a true path of self-examination under grace. They are a mirror which cannot only be held facing outward, and a curb you cannot build for others while standing outside the path. If lawmakers were truly concerned with biblical values, they would respect the Reformation’s lesson that faith cannot be imposed. Respect for a faith can’t either. That has to be earned by the example of its practitioners.
And let’s be honest: This is not about upholding the commandments themselves. These ideas are coming down the pipeline from interests whose policies elevate power, wealth, and nationalism above moral truth, use God’s name to justify oppression, and rely on coercion rather than justice and mercy. Their policies treat leadership as a means of consolidating control instead of a responsibility of service. While claiming they protect life, they often do so selectively — or only up until birth — while cutting support for the dignity and well-being of children, families, and the vulnerable. Rather than fostering unified communities, they create division and exploitation. They distort and deny truth, promote falsehoods, and prioritize greed over justice, all while ignoring the teachings of Jesus in favor of selectively chosen Old Testament laws that serve political interests.
Theatrics like Ten-Commandments posters are not an exposition of the real ethos of Christianity. They are an attempt to assert cultural dominance while ignoring actual “Judeo-Christian” moral imperatives.
If lawmakers insist on bringing Christianity into our schools, let’s challenge them to do so honestly. Let’s remind them that true devotion makes no room for state enforcement. That Jesus lifted up the poor and persecuted, not the powerful. The “Christian-nation” argument cannot be taken seriously unless they must champion a system based on radical, empathetic, unconditional, and hospitable love of the other, especially the poor, the sick, the outcast, the neighbor, the stranger, the enemy, those who cannot repay, the homeless and the refugee, the marginalized, and the oppressed. The baby in the feeding trough — or on the street. The condemned scapegoat — whether nailed to a cross or gasping beneath the noose of anti-LGBTQ laws.
And if they refuse — if they cherry-pick religious texts for their own political purposes; if Jesus is too “woke” for them — then let’s call this what it is: not a defense of faith, but an abuse of it.
And a lie.