Support local news
MinnPost’s journalists are out in the community to report on the things that are happening in Minnesota. Your support right now will help fund their work AND keep our news paywall-free.
Public expression in Minnesota civic life tends toward a certain restraint.
A brief invocation before a meeting. A memorial observance that speaks in broad terms. Language that acknowledges the moment without requiring everyone present to share the same beliefs. These are not formal rules so much as longstanding habits. They allow people with different religious and philosophical commitments to occupy the same civic space together.
Recently, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth delivered a prayer at a Pentagon memorial service that drew attention beyond the setting in which it was offered. Public prayer itself is not unusual. But the form of this one was.
Related: D.C. Memo: McCollum has tough questions for Hegseth
Hegseth, who has often described his upbringing in Minnesota in terms of patriotism, Christian faith and shared civic life, did not begin from broadly shared language. Instead, he spoke from within a specific theological framework and positioned the event inside it.
He invoked a passage associated with the Book of Ezekiel, one many Americans recognize less from church than from the 1994 film “Pulp Fiction,” where it appears in stylized form. Here, however, the passage functions differently. Hegseth places himself within the prophetic narrative he invokes. He situates the dead, the rescuers and the actions undertaken under his authority as part of that story’s unfolding arc, and speaks as though its meaning has already been revealed and fulfilled through those events.
That is a different kind of public language than a simple expression of grief, gratitude or remembrance.
Public civic language has traditionally worked differently. It has usually tried to leave room for the people gathered within it, including those who do not share the speaker’s theology. It does not require listeners to set aside their own beliefs in order to remain part of the moment. It leaves the audience where it is.
Hegseth’s Pentagon prayer did something narrower. The audience was not simply present at a memorial service. It was implicitly situated inside the religious framework the prayer established. What might otherwise have remained a broadly shared moment of mourning became instead a presentation of one individual’s private understanding of the event’s spiritual meaning.
The issue is not sincerity. The prayer may well have been deeply sincere. Nor is the issue whether religion belongs in public life. Religious language has long been part of American civic culture.
The question is what kind of language allows civic spaces to remain genuinely shared.
Related: Ramped up Pentagon spending boosts fortunes of Minnesota companies
Minnesota’s public culture has historically tended toward caution in moments like these. That caution is not hostility to belief. It is an understanding that shared civic settings depend less on agreement than on restraint. Public language works best when it creates enough space for people who understand the world differently to remain fully present within the same moment.
That habit is easy to overlook because it often operates quietly. But it serves an important purpose. Public restraint is not the absence of conviction. It is the recognition that civic language must leave room for consciences other than one’s own.
Richard Hurst lives in Minneapolis and works seasonally as park ranger in New Mexico. He has served as a trial attorney and in law enforcement at the federal level, and in a front-line patrol capacity for a municipal police department in the Twin Cities.

