Why You Should Let Someone Set You Up On A Date

If you’d told me a few years ago I’d meet my future wife through a Lutheran matchmaking service — yes, a real one, with actual forms and real humans, not bots — I’d have smiled politely and changed the subject. Maybe quoted You’ve Got Mail, something like: “I am a lone reed, standing tall, waving boldly …” But in my case, it was more like, “I am a lone conservative in deep-blue Madison, Wisconsin, standing tall in a sea of dating apps, definitely not the kind of man who needs to be set up by a matchmaker from church.”

That’s because, like a lot of people, I thought dating meant building the perfect résumé: refining my interests, curating clever bios, and waiting for that organic meet-cute with someone who liked my taste in coffee and theology. I was trying to manufacture a love story while also pretending I wasn’t trying too hard.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe: The apps are built to keep you dating, not to help you build a marriage. They’re designed to feed you the illusion that one more swipe might lead to someone better. That you can find your future spouse by filtering for hiking preferences and podcast habits — and somehow arrive at covenant.

That’s why, as uncomfortable and old-fashioned as it may sound, you should let someone set you up.

It’s a Strategy, Not a Cop-Out

Matchmaking has been made to sound like it’s for the desperate, the unlucky, or your Aunt Karen, who insists she knows someone with “good shoulders and a solid 401(k).” But the truth is, letting someone introduce you to a potential spouse isn’t giving up. It’s growing up.

A year and a half ago, a friend sent me a link to the website of LCMS Connections, a confessional Lutheran matchmaking duo. He sent it as a joke. “Can you imagine finding your wife this way?” he texted.

I clicked. Out of curiosity at first. But the questions weren’t gimmicky. They were deep, even convicting — about faith, forgiveness, family, and calling. I filled it out, mostly to see what would happen.

Spoiler: I’m now engaged to Molly-Ann, a brilliant and big-hearted kindergarten teacher with a quiet strength and a sharp wit. She’s not someone I would’ve found through a curated list of “preferences.” (Especially location, she’s in Wichita, Kansas… where I’m soon moving.) She’s someone God knew I needed. And if I’d stayed a “lone reed,” proudly waving on my own terms, I would’ve missed her entirely, and we wouldn’t be getting married at the end of the year.

This setup didn’t come out of nowhere. Seven years earlier, after working on an unsuccessful U.S. Senate campaign, I was sitting at my parents’ kitchen table, wondering what was next. My mom, half-serious, said, “You know, the biggest disappointment isn’t that you lost. It’s that you won’t be moving to that wonderful church — the one with the Lutheran matchmaker — near D.C. I just think you might’ve found your bride there.”

She wasn’t talking about just any matchmaker. She was hoping for the real-life Mollie Hemingway — sharp, discerning, rooted in reality, ready to connect two people with a shared foundation, and with a high success rate. I laughed at the time.

Turns out, she was just ahead of schedule.

Bring Back Thoughtful Matchmaking

We don’t need every church to create a formal matchmaking program. But we do need to recapture real community. Churches and friend groups should see setting people up as a kind of ministry — not just tossing two single people at each other like confetti, but prayerfully, intentionally asking: Could these two actually build something lasting?

We don’t need just one church with a Mollie quietly working behind the scenes. We need hundreds of them, in fellowship halls, group texts, and front porches across the country.

I know none of this is revolutionary. I’m not breaking new ground by saying maybe we’ve over-indexed on dating apps and underutilized the people who know us best. And just one full month into my engagement, I’m no expert on marriage. But I had to share my story and, once again, join the growing choir of conservative-minded folks urging our generation to stop hiding behind our phones and start trusting the people who love us.

To the guys: Pursue with purpose. If someone introduces you to a woman who’s grounded, kind, and ready to build something meaningful, go first. Show up. Make the plan. Lead with clarity, not performative charm.

To the women: Say yes. Not to a ring but to coffee and curiosity. Even if he’s not your “type,” he may be the man who will love you with steadiness and strength when life becomes more than Instagram can capture.

And to the communities: Don’t underestimate your role. If you see two people who might go well together, speak up. Do it kindly, do it wisely, but don’t sit on the sidelines. Our culture doesn’t need more curated aesthetics. It needs covenant-minded connection.

The Meaning of Marriage

Marriage isn’t a reward for dating well. It’s not a highlight reel for Instagram. It’s a refining fire. It’s a covenant. And it points to something deeper. In Christian theology, marriage mirrors Christ and the church. Not the filtered version, but the bruised, bleeding, forgiving, redeeming version. The kind where love means laying down your preferences, your pride, and sometimes even your plan.

You don’t have to share my faith to understand this. At some point, real love always requires sacrifice. The right person won’t just match your vibe; they’ll help you grow in virtue. They won’t just “get you.” They’ll walk beside you when you’re tired and unsure and still choose you anyway.

So maybe it’s time to stop filtering. Let your guard down. Ask your church. Ask your friends. And when someone says, “I know this might sound strange, but I think you two should meet,” don’t roll your eyes. Just say yes.

Mattias Gugel is a policy advisor at Wisconsin State Senate. He is a graduate of Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism. Follow him on Twitter at @mattiasgugel