TOWN OF CHRISTIANA — Amid the cornfields and pastures here stand two nearly identical churches just 100 yards or so apart, a tangible reminder of a long ago feud.

For 70 years, parishioners of a once-unified Lutheran congregation worshipped separately, torn apart by a theological dispute that church members say seems a little extreme in hindsight.

The sides dropped their differences in 1961 and now worship harmoniously again as the East Koshkonong Lutheran Church, which will mark its 165th anniversary Aug. 30. Of course, 70 of those years were spent asunder. Celebrants say they won’t dwell on that part but can’t ignore it either.

“Obviously, it was a significant disagreement,” said the Rev. Clint Schnekloth, the church’s pastor. “You don’t just build two churches right next to each other over nothing.”

Norwegian settlers founded the congregation on the Koshkonong Prairie four miles south of Cambridge in 1844. Things soured in 1891 over the concept of predestination.

Part of the congregation felt God had determined from the beginning that some people were destined for heaven and some hell. The other side, while agreeing that some people were destined for heaven, felt uncomfortable damning the rest to hell without a chance for redemption. A similar debate was playing out in Lutheran congregations across the country.

“It was a big argument and it didn’t make much sense,” said Earl Ellickson, 84, a lifelong member of the congregation. “It was a small detail — almost a joke.”

Nobody was laughing when one side split off and built a church next door. Not to be outdone, the other side built a new church, too. These are the structures that remain, separated by a cemetery.

Over time, the squabble lost steam, helped along by deaths and attrition. By the 1950s, “most of the younger members couldn’t even tell you exactly what the split was about,” said Orin Kaare, 84, another lifelong member.

The controversy within the larger church body had resolved itself in 1912 with a brokered settlement allowing for both positions to co-exist, an understanding that remains today, said Mark Granquist, an associate professor of church history at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minn.

However, many congregations, including East Koshkonong, remained divided for much longer. “At the local level, these things become personal and memories last a little longer,” Granquist said.

At East Koshkonong Lutheran Church and elsewhere, neither side claimed victory, and the issue is little discussed today, said the Rev. Merill Herder, 81, the first minister of the newly reunited congregation. “I don’t know of any two theological professors or pastors who have a big disagreement over this,” he said.

When the congregations voted to reunite, only a few people balked, said Ellickson, the first president of the merged congregation. “There was no reason to stay apart. We were friends. We were neighbors. We were together all the time except to worship.”

To avoid friction, the pastors serving the two churches left and the congregation called a new one, Herder. He remembers his six years in rural Cambridge fondly but said there were challenges.

Both sides clung sentimentally to their churches, so the congregation used both, rotating monthly at first, then every three months. The sites were given names based on their location on a slight hill — “upper church” and “lower church.”

A subtle rivalry continued, Herder said. If one church’s organ needed repairs, some people felt the other church’s organ should be upgraded, too. Ditto for carpeting, windows and maintenance. “There was a lot of that going on for a number of years,” Herder said.

Due to practical considerations, the lower church eventually became the main sanctuary. The upper church continues to be used for special occasions, such as the annual Easter sunrise service. The congregation has about 600 baptized members.

Schnekloth said some parishioners still identify as upper or lower church people, although those allegiances loosen every year. He puts a positive spin on the whole affair. The rift showed that doctrine actually matters and that people are willing to go to extremes to clarify their beliefs. The best part happened in 1961, he said.

“Churches have a habit of splitting — that’s not unusual. But how many actually come back together? We are a living example of Christian forgiveness and reconciliation.”