I did not grow up in one place. I moved seven times before graduating from high school, mostly living East of the Mississippi and all but one of those places was in what would be considered “suburban” communities (I lived for six months in Belmond, Iowa, while I was in Kindergarten, but that was the only exception to both of those things). Even in my early days in Iowa, where I was more familiar with the rural context, I would travel through rural areas, but did not live in them.
Since becoming a pastor, I have spent most of my time in rural ministry, though that depends a bit on how you define rural. My first appointment was in a town that probably was rural in most senses of the word but thought of itself more as a suburb of Waterloo than a farming community. My second appointment was as an associate pastor in a town large enough to perhaps be considered only kind of rural. For the last eleven years, though, I have been in communities where their rural identity is front and center. I wouldn’t say that I have totally become a “rural person,” because I don’t know if you can be that unless you grew up in this kind of context, but I love living in a rural community and can’t understand people who prefer the frantic pace of the city.
Rural contexts have an advantage and a disadvantage compared to other areas for ministry. One of the great things is that, while churches in cities often need to plead with people to actually go and meet the people in their communities, you almost can’t avoid knowing some of the folks you live near. The people on your block are the same people at school functions, are the same people at church, and are the same people at town events. Rural people also have a long history of knowing how to function with people who don’t agree with them on everything because you can’t function any other way. You can withdraw from anyone who annoys you in a city without too much effort. In small towns, you have to learn how to get along. This gives us a chance to put the gospel into practice.
Rural life presents unique challenges, though, as well. Here is one example. The heart and soul of Methodism in its earliest days was small groups for spiritual formation and accountability. It is easier to be in a group like that with people you only know through that small group than it is to do it with your neighbors for the same reason it is easier to share your deepest, darkest secrets with a therapist than the people you live your life with. When everyone is connected to everyone else, there can always be a worry that one person’s struggle will quickly become everyone else’s business.
What all of this means is that those in rural contexts and those in urban or suburban ones have different struggles and different difficulties, but none of us are exempt from bringing the gospel to bear on those aspects of our lives. Where do you feel the gospel pinch against you? What is harder to do because of your context? What would it take to be faithful in that area, too? How can you bring one or two people along in the pursuit of Scriptural Holiness so that Christ can be Lord over every area of your life?