Páll Þórlaksson: The Misunderstood Pragmatist
- Jason Doctor
- Jul 18
- 12 min read
By Jason Doctor
Our Interesting Icelander for July, Páll Þórlaksson, is one of the most familiar names heard when learning about the early settlement of Icelandic emigrants in North America. Jason Doctor presents the profile of Páll Þórlaksson as we explore the North Dakota settlement. Additionally, if you happen to be in Mountain, ND for August the Deuce on Friday, 31 July, 2026, Jason will also be presenting at the Friday Forum held in Mountain Community Center. Be sure to pre-register for the Friday Forum.
In March 1879, Rev. Páll Þórlaksson and Rev. Jón Bjarnason met in Gimli for a public theological conference. An authorized summary of the debate was later published in Framfari (May 14, 1879), having been prepared by the meeting secretaries and reviewed by both ministers before publication. It provides a remarkable opportunity to hear these two influential Icelandic pastors explain their beliefs in their own words.
The debate centered on the inspiration of Scripture. Páll defended the historic Lutheran view that the Holy Spirit inspired not only the message of Scripture but its very words, grounding his argument in the Bible, Martin Luther, the Augsburg Confession, and the Apology of the Augsburg Confession. Jón agreed that the Bible is God's Word but argued that God inspired "the Word" (orðið), not necessarily "the words" (orðin) chosen by the human authors. He maintained that the biblical writers, while guided by the Holy Spirit, could reflect their own personalities, language, and even make incidental errors in history or science without compromising the saving message of the Gospel. To support his position, Jón appealed to contemporary German Lutheran theologians, particularly Friedrich Philippi, and argued that this understanding represented the prevailing theology of Germany and the Nordic countries rather than the more confessional approach of the Missouri Synod, where Páll was trained.
A modern reader may wonder why this debate was happening at all. After only a few years in Canada, the Icelandic settlers had experienced tragedy at Kinmount, scurvy, the volcanic eruptions in Iceland sending large numbers of new arrivals to New Iceland, a devastating smallpox epidemic that infected a third of the population and killed 102 people, quarantine, and the daily struggle of clearing trees and stubborn root systems for farming and learning new approaches to fishing in an unfamiliar land. Why, amid such overwhelming challenges, were they establishing a printing press, publishing a newspaper, and, most of all, engaging in an abstract theological debate?
At this point, you may insert your favorite joke about Icelanders' love of words and intellectual pursuits above all else. But whatever the reason, the 1879 debate became part of Rev. Páll Þórlaksson's legacy and is often cited as the catalyst for his congregation's move to North Dakota. Yet for most of his followers, the decision to leave New Iceland appears to have been driven by practical necessity and not theology.
Many Icelandic immigrants followed Páll because he was most concerned with the poorest Icelanders in Canada. In their eyes, Páll Þórlaksson was a practical leader who understood the everyday needs of the people. He was someone who cared deeply about the material welfare of his congregation and who worked tirelessly to make their life better. The decision to move his congregation to North Dakota was a pragmatic choice and an economic one, based on the opportunity for better land and a better life, one that appeared impossible in Canada at that time.
Unlike Rev. Jón Bjarnason or Rev. Halldor Bríem, two influential ministers to the first settlers, Rev. Páll Þórlaksson was not trained as a minister in Iceland. He came to the United States as a layperson. He had received a classical education in Reykjavik but not a religious education there. Páll's move to the United States followed a non-linear path and was tied closely to his brother's and sister-in-law's decision to emigrate, his own father's advice and others affiliated with the "Eyrarbakki Group" described next.
In 1865, William Wickman, a Dane, immigrated to Milwaukee from Eyrarbakki, Iceland, where he opened a store and began writing letters back to Iceland describing the opportunities in Wisconsin. He wrote most of his letters to his superior at Eyrarbakki, Guðmundur Thorgrimsen an uncle by marriage to Páll Þórlaksson. Guðmundur was quick to share the news with others. Wickman praised the rich fishing in Lake Michigan and the abundance of available homestead land. His letters were widely read and helped spark interest in emigration.
Four young Icelanders were especially inspired by Wickman's correspondence: Jón Gíslason, Árni Guðmundsson, Jón Einarsson, and Guðmundur Guðmundsson. In May 1870, they left Iceland to investigate these opportunities firsthand.
Also among those influenced by Wickman's letters was Páll Þórlaksson, who emigrated to Wisconsin in 1872. After briefly trying farming, he enrolled at Concordia Theological Seminary in St. Louis, where he studied for three years before being ordained as a Lutheran pastor. He first served a congregation in Green Valley, Wisconsin, tried but failed to convince Minneota Icelanders to have him be their minister and then spent several years ministering among Icelandic settlers in New Iceland. In 1880 he accepted a call and moved to Mountain, Pembina County, Dakota Territory, where he died of tuberculosis on March 13, 1882, at just 32 years of age, having successfully placed roughly half of New Iceland in the Dakota territory.
Páll shared the commerce-oriented mindset of the Eyrarbakki group with whom he became associated in Wisconsin. Unlike many emigrants from rural Iceland, the Eyrarbakki group came from a bustling harbor town. They were generally skilled tradesmen, merchants, and financially secure. They did not go to the United States to find a refuge from hardship, but rather to prosper through commerce, agriculture, and enterprise. The group also became known for its generosity, welcoming newly arrived Icelanders of any background into their homes and helping them find work and establish themselves. My own lang lang afi, a young farmhand from Vopnafjordur got his start with the help and kindness of the Eyrarbakki group.
Páll likewise approached America with an outward-facing perspective. He was comfortable engaging with people beyond the Icelandic community and saw value in learning from more established immigrant groups. His decision to join the Norwegian Synod and his willingness to deliver public addresses in Norwegian, including at the first Íslendingadagurinn (Day of the Icelanders) inside a Norwegian church, reflected his belief that Icelanders could benefit from the experience of Norwegian immigrants, who had already spent several decades building successful churches and communities in North America. Rather than viewing ethnic identity of others as a liability, Páll saw cooperation and exchange as essential to the success of Icelandic immigrants. Páll's own great grandfather was a Norwegian merchant in Akureyri, his mother's family being part of those in Iceland with a non-Icelandic name, "Nielsen." This fact may have also made him more open to Norwegian culture and collaboration, but we do not know for sure.
His view on theology was conservative and this frustrated many Icelanders. Published in Framfari under the title "A Word about the Icelandic Settlement in Minnesota" (Eitt orð um nýlendu Íslendinga í Minnesota), Snorri Högnason's letter on January 25, 1878 described conditions in the growing Minnesota colony while also documenting an important episode in Icelandic church history. As a side note, Högnason had taken land in Southwest Minneota's, Westerheim Township, Section 4 and rather than giving his farm an Icelandic placename, he named his farm after himself "Högnastaðir" as might have been done in the settlement period of Iceland. Perhaps this was to signify the gravity of moving West. He reported that Páll Þórlaksson visited the settlement in October 1877 to organize an Icelandic Lutheran congregation, but Þórlaksson's proposed congregational constitution was rejected because many settlers considered it ófrjálslegt ("too restrictive" or "too lacking in freedom"). As a result, Páll was not chosen to lead the congregation, but a lay congregation persisted until 1887, when, interestingly, Páll's brother Niels was chosen to lead the congregation under a different and more agreeable constitution. Although Snorri noted that most settlers still desired an Icelandic pastor, they preferred one whose views they found more acceptable and were willing to wait on selecting one.
While we do not know exactly what the draft constitution said, it was of no help to Þórlaksson's cause that his training compelled ministers to not allow women to vote on church affairs or even to allow people of other denominations or synods to be buried in the same cemetery. These and other restrictions soured many people who grew up in a less restrictive Icelandic church. Yet, without careful analysis of Þórlaksson's life, it is hard to make sense of his insistence on strict church rules.
There is no evidence that Rev. Þórlaksson was generally motivated to restrict the rights of women. That is to say the Church's stance was not an instance of a more general misogynistic view he had. In fact, there is evidence to the contrary. His exodus from New Iceland to North Dakota was motivated in part because it would give women more opportunities. Most single women could not homestead independently in Canada. Whereas, in the United States the Homestead Act allowed women to freely homestead on their own and as many as 5,000 women took land in their own name in the United States. Among Pall's followers to North Dakota were 9 single women (nearly 20% of the 50 households who moved to Pembina County), working women (vinnandi konur) from Iceland, many with children, left New Iceland with Páll with the intention to homestead as independent women in the Dakota settlement (Lindgren, 1989).
In contrast, the Rev. Bjarnason, who supported a woman's right to vote on church affairs, also encouraged all people to stay put in New Iceland. In September 1877, in the publication Norðafari, Rev. Jón Bjarnason made a passionate appeal to Icelanders not to settle in Lyon County, Minnesota. Yet many of the Vinnukona who left Iceland did not have husbands, or had lost them, and could not take land to farm on their own in New Iceland. It would have been prudent instead to advise people to go to Minneota or North Dakota if it made sense for their personal and family needs.
My own lang lang amma and her mother, both members of Rev. Bjarnason's congregation, were placed in a bind by his position. Her husband had claimed land in New Iceland in the southern part of Gimli. But soon after, my lang lang amma's husband died. Then there was a dispute over her claim to that land, which arose when it was learned that the land was zoned for a school. Their claim denied, my lang lang amma's mother (in her mid-forties) sought land to be the head of household. However, as a single mother, she could not obtain a new farm in New Iceland. They would leave Bjarnason's congregation and head out on their own to Minneota to homestead as independently as women who are head-of-household. While I don't know how Rev. Bjarnason counseled them, I tell this personal story to highlight the contradictions of these two ministers. Þórlaksson is rigid in doctrine but not in his ministry and problem-solving; he clearly helped many women in bad situations and worked to get them to a place with better policies toward them. In contrast, Bjarnason is liberal in doctrine but may have found it harder to bend to the needs of his congregation or to make opportunities for them. It thus appears that while Þórlaksson took the rules of his Synod seriously, as a pastor, he fostered independence and freedom in other ways. These were ways that could have helped, perhaps others in the colony that were in Bjarnason's congregation.
The question arises, "What justified Páll's conservativism with Scripture, given he acted more like a social worker in his ministry than a hardline preacher?" Páll's confessional outlook was shaped by his mentor, C. F. W. Walther, one of the leading figures of confessional Lutheranism in America. Walther's theology was forged in the aftermath of the dramatic fall of Bishop Martin Stephan, whose sexual misconduct, financial abuses, and authoritarian leadership nearly destroyed a community of Saxon Lutheran immigrants. Bishop Stephan had manipulated his congregation and used his power as minister in harmful ways. The experience convinced Walther that no pastor or bishop should stand above God's Word. Instead, ministers were to remain accountable to Scripture, placing themselves beneath its authority rather than using their office for personal power. For Walther, faithful adherence to the Lutheran Confessions was therefore not an end in itself but a safeguard for the church and a means of ensuring that pastors served Christ and their communities rather than themselves.
We can view Páll's acceptance if not attraction to Walther's conservative theology similarly as a way to compel the pastor to focus on important aspects of his ministry. To commit to this view required that Páll be humble and modest in his role, turn his eye away from himself and toward his ministry. It encouraged him to tend to the poor in his congregation and to consider Biblical interpretation outside his role as pastor.
Another way to judge if Páll Þórlaksson was tolerant is his fellowship with those with vastly different perspectives. One example is Stephan G. Stephansson. Stephansson emigrated when he was young and would later become one of Canada's most celebrated poets and an outspoken critic of organized religion. Yet, he chose to follow Páll Þórlaksson to North Dakota. As a young immigrant, he was primarily concerned with establishing a secure future in a new country. By that time, Páll had earned the confidence of many Icelandic settlers, not simply as a minister, but as a thoughtful, practical, and trustworthy leader. He had demonstrated sound judgment in matters of settlement, immigration, and community welfare, and families looked to him for guidance in making some of the most consequential decisions of their lives. Stephansson's decision to join the migration to North Dakota therefore demonstrates that his followers were not primarily concerned with theology. The respect Páll commanded among his fellow Icelanders as a devoted and prudent leader inspired confidence. In fact, Stephansson commented on the disagreement with characteristic sarcasm. While he respected both Páll and Jón as men, he observed that in his view if one accepted the fantastical theological assumptions they shared, Páll's theology was the more logically consistent of the two. He stated in a 1910 letter to Baldur Sveinsson:
"In the dispute between Pastors Jón and Paul, I sometimes came to Paul's defense among my neighbors in more or less the following words: 'The only subject on which these men disagree is the means God will employ to bring about the destruction of the human race. According to both of them, the end result will be the same–eternal damnation. So far as that is concerned and in other matters as well, I see no difference. To tell the truth, if there is a God who damns the souls of man, Paul's teaching in this respect seems to me more logical.'"
In the spring of 1878, Rev. Páll Þorláksson journeyed south from New Iceland with a small exploratory party to assess the possibilities for settlement in northeastern Dakota Territory. His expedition marked the beginning of what would become the Icelandic settlement in Pembina County. After witnessing the crop failures, disease, and difficult living conditions that plagued New Iceland, Páll became convinced that the fertile land of the Red River Valley offered a better future for many Icelandic families. Upon his return, he encouraged settlers to consider relocating, and over the course of 1878 and 1879, a steady migration began. By the fall of 1879, approximately fifty Icelandic families had established farms in the Pembina Hills region.
While Icelanders found themselves in a better place and one that would provide for them for many generations, they walked past some of the richest soil on the North American continent. They decided instead to make their home on the edge of the old Lake Agassiz escarpment, a place with some gain in elevation and one that resembled, to a small degree, their homeland in Iceland. Hence, the name Mountain, ND.
In 1880, Páll permanently relocated to Pembina County to serve the growing settlement as its pastor. During the following months, he organized Lutheran congregations at Garðar (November 24, 1880), Vík (at Mountain) (November 30, 1880), and the Tongue River Congregation at the Hallson Settlement (January 2, 1881), where the settlers formally called him as their minister and adopted his church constitution.
Although suffering from advanced tuberculosis, Páll spent the final years of his life traveling tirelessly between these scattered communities, preaching, administering the sacraments, organizing churches, and caring for both the spiritual and temporal welfare of his people. He died at Vík (Mountain) in March 1882 at only thirty-two years of age, leaving behind a legacy that earned him the enduring title, "Father of the Icelandic Settlement in North Dakota.
In a letter to his father as a schoolboy in Reykjavík, Páll said:
"For one month I stood highest in my class and could perhaps have maintained that position longer had I really tried, but it is not good to be the highest. It is better to be second highest, as I am."
From this quote, we see his modesty (Houser, 1990). His controversial views on what it meant to be an Icelander in the New World as well as his religious positions, have left him misunderstood and, to a degree, pushed aside. And although he is not the most remembered leader of Icelanders in North America. I believe, given his quiet nature, humble spirit and concern for others, he is looking down on us happy to be "second highest".
Our collective journey with Rev. Páll is not over. We want to continue nurturing our history and heritage, and the collective stories of our past and the future of Icelanders in North America. We plan to build a physical gathering place to honor our roots. Rootshús, will be a permanent interpretive center for Icelandic heritage. The center will reside on land homesteaded by Rev. Páll Þorláksson, the Father of the Icelandic Settlement in Dakota. Please consider donating to help preserve our shared heritage.
