When masked federal agents began appearing on the streets of Minneapolis and St. Paul, Rev. David Ostendorf (M.Div. ’72) did not hesitate.
For more than five decades, Ostendorf has organized alongside rural communities, faith leaders, labor coalitions, and civil rights advocates across the country. Today, he finds himself once again in the midst of a defining moral struggle—this time from Minnesota, where immigrant communities have been targeted by aggressive ICE operations.
“I’ve spent decades organizing across the country,” he says. “But the current depth of community resistance is unlike anything I have ever witnessed.”
An Organic Movement Rooted in Community
Ostendorf describes what unfolded in Minnesota not as a spontaneous protest, but as something far deeper.
“This quickly became a neighborhood movement,” he explains. “It was deeply rooted in religious institutions, unions, service organizations—but above all, neighborhoods. Word spread dramatically. In our own neighborhood alone, multiple groups mobilized to serve as observers outside a childcare center. And that was multiplied dozens and dozens of times across the metro area and beyond.”
The scale of solidarity has been extraordinary. Neighbors patrol streets. Legal observers stand for hours outside schools and businesses. Food is delivered to families afraid to leave their homes. High school students walk out of class. Elders protest in below-zero temperatures.
Even during a stretch of nearly 70 consecutive hours of subzero weather, thousands gathered.
“People just dress warm and hit the streets,” Ostendorf says. “There’s not much second thought.”
Discipline in the Face of Violence
While demonstrations have been large—some estimates exceeding 15,000 people—what has distinguished Minnesota’s resistance is its disciplined commitment to nonviolence.
“There was tremendous training,” Ostendorf notes. “Organizers held sessions with hundreds of people at a time. If you didn’t log on early enough, you couldn’t even get in. People were taught exactly what to do and what not to do.”
When ICE agents appeared in neighborhoods, protesters were trained not to confront them directly, but to document.
“The most important weapon in this effort has been the video camera,” he says. “Recording what’s happening.”
There have been sobering and dangerous moments, including the deaths of two civilians by ICE agents. Protesters have faced tear gas and pepper spray. Agents have broken car windows and operated while fully masked and without visible identification.
“When they were at their worst, they were spraying chemicals directly into people’s faces,” he recalls. “But the incredible credit goes to the people. They kept their anger in a good place. They helped those who were assaulted. They stayed disciplined.”
For Ostendorf, one image stands out: crowds standing firm, refusing to disperse, determined to bear witness.
“There was no fear,” he says. “People were so committed to making this a just situation.”
The Moral Force of Interfaith Solidarity
A longtime minister in the United Church of Christ, Ostendorf has seen firsthand the essential role faith communities play in moments of crisis.
Minnesota’s resistance has drawn strength from decades-old relationships among Christian congregations, Muslim communities, Jewish leaders, and other faith traditions.
“There are Protestant and Catholic churches, Somali Muslim communities, rabbis, imams—relationships that have been built over years,” he says. “When this moment came, they were ready.”
Faith leaders and congregants have shown up in the streets, in courthouses, and at places of worship—offering not only bodies but moral clarity.
“The interfaith community provided a core commitment to nonviolence,” Ostendorf says. “The moral presence mattered.”
A Union Formation That Endures
For Ostendorf, this public witness is inseparable from his formation at Union Theological Seminary.
“Union was foundational to who I became and who I am,” he says. “I was there during a significant shift in theology—Third World liberation theology, prophetic voices. I absorbed all of that.”
After Union, he went on to earn a Master of Science from the University of Michigan as a National Science Foundation Fellow and launched a lifelong career in organizing. He co-founded the Illinois South Project in the coal fields of Southern Illinois. He served as Executive Director of PrairieFire Rural Action in Iowa, countering racist and anti-Semitic movements while revitalizing family farm agriculture. He later founded The Center for New Community to confront social and racial injustice nationally.
Yet through every chapter, he says, Union’s theological grounding endured.
“Union’s reputation, its history, its present moment—it’s so solid. That level of commitment shaped me.”
“The Moral Universe Doesn’t Bend on Its Own”
In a recent TIME op-ed titled “Minnesota Shows Us That Resisting ICE Works,” Ostendorf wrote:
“It has long been said that the arc of the moral universe bends towards justice. But the universe does not bend towards justice on its own. It bends because people push together.”
Asked what “pushing together” looks like now, he answers simply: community.
“It looks like neighbors standing together. It looks like relationships formed in the streets that didn’t exist before. I’ve met neighbors I never would have met otherwise. People know we did this—and we could do it again if we have to.”
He is candid about the stakes.
“If communities don’t push back, this administration will simply run over them,” he says. “The level of opposition from cities across the country is saying: We will not stand quietly for this.”
Hope in the Story of Resistance
Despite grief, despite violence, Ostendorf speaks of hope—not naïvely, but insistently.
“The most important story coming out of Minnesota is the story of the resistance of the people,” he says. “Unless we hold that story forward and let it guide us, the other side takes over.”
He points to the breadth of the movement: young people, elders, every race and creed, communities urban and rural.
“It’s been phenomenal,” he says. “It still is.”
For Ostendorf, Minnesota is not only a battleground; it is a witness.
A witness that democracy is not sustained by institutions alone, but by neighbors who refuse to surrender one another.
A witness that faith is not confined to sanctuaries, but lived in streets.
A witness that the moral universe bends—not by accident—but because communities, grounded in courage and solidarity, push together.