The following was written by ELP intern Lydia Lascola.
I was eight months pregnant when she said it.
“I’m concerned about the values you are passing down to your children.”
It wasn’t loud or emotional. It was calm, certain, and final. And just like that, a friendship I once cherished was severed deeply.
At the time, I wanted to defend myself, to explain what I actually believed instead of what she assumed I believed. But beneath that instinct was something far more unsettling. What if I could say what I believed, but not clearly explain why? That question followed me everywhere. It lingered and consumed many quiet moments. And for the first time, belief was no longer something I could inherit or assume. It was something I had to account for, because now it was no longer just about me. I was about to become a mother.
Around that same time, I was accepted into the Emerging Leaders Program. I was not sure how, but I hoped this program could begin answering the very question I could not shake. Yet, we did not start where I expected; Not with modern politics, and not even with America. We started with the Hebrews.
At first, it felt out of place. Why begin there? Why not start with Ancient Greece or the Founding Fathers? But as the weeks unfolded, something became clear. Before you can understand a system of government, you must understand the nature of the people it governs. The Hebrews understood something foundational: human beings are not neutral. We are moral beings, created with purpose, while also fractured by sin. Aristotle would later describe man as a political being, observing that governance is natural to us. Augustine goes further and explains that government is not only natural, it is also necessary, because of who we are.
That realization reframed everything for me. Politics is no longer just policy debates or election cycles. It is about people, and more specifically, the kind of people we are becoming.
At the same time, my husband and I find ourselves drawn back to church, not out of routine, but out of urgency. We are raising a child, a real soul and a developing mind that will one day ask questions, form convictions, and shape the world around him. The question is no longer simply what will we teach him, but who will he become.
This is where a common cultural divide begins to fall apart. Why politics, and why church? Today, many people instinctively separate the two, and I’d go further to say, we are encouraged and conditioned to do so now. But both are fundamentally about formation. One shapes the structure of society, the other shapes the soul of the person living within it. Paired together, not only is this combination powerful but necessary to a thriving society. Laws reflect values, and values come from somewhere; we must again start asking where. The separation is not as clean as we often pretend.
Through the program, we study the progression of Western thought, from the Hebrews to the Greeks and Romans, from Cicero and C.S. Lewis to the American Founders. What emerges is not a collection of disconnected ideas, but a consistent thread. Freedom is not sustained by systems alone. It is sustained by people who are capable of governing themselves, people of character, people who understand truth and can think critically.
That kind of person does not emerge by accident. They are formed, first in the home, then in communities, and over time in the institutions they build and inhabit.
When I think back to that text from my former dear friend, I no longer feel defensive. I feel grateful, because she was right about one thing. Values are being passed down. They always are. The only question is whether we are doing so intentionally or by default.
As a mother, my role feels clearer than ever. I am not just raising a child. I am forming a future citizen, a neighbor, a leader, someone who will step into a world shaped by the ideas we either take the time to understand or choose to ignore.
This is why this work matters. Not just in theory, but in practice. Not just in Washington, but in our homes. The future of our country is not decided first in institutions, but in whether we take responsibility for what we believe and why, before passing it on to the next generation.
What has impacted me most through this experience is not only the content, though the study of history, philosophy, and theology has been invaluable. It is also the people. There is a culture here that sees others not simply as coworkers, but as individuals made in the image of God. It sharpens thinking while deepening humility. It reinforces that servant leadership is not weakness, but strength properly ordered toward the good of others.
If there is hope for the next 250 years of this country, it will not come from louder arguments or more complex systems alone. It will come from formed people, people who understand human nature, pursue truth, love others even when it is difficult, and take seriously the responsibility of what they pass on.
That work begins much closer to home than we often realize, and serving in the ELP, I have seen what it looks like when that work truly begins.