Darryl Hart at Front Porch Republic asks why rural ministry is not nearly as popular as urban ministry these days.
In his essay, "God and Country," [Wendell] Berry complains rightly that American denominations treat rural congregations invariably as "a training ground for young ministers, and as a means of subsidizing their education." This stems from a two-fold disrespect for rural people. First is the assumption that persons not yet eligible for ministry are qualified to shepherd country folk. The other assumption regards congregation. According to Berry, "The denominational hierarchies . . . regard country places in exactly the same way as 'the economy' does: as sources of economic power to be exploited for the advantage of 'better' places." Rural congregations can't help but gain the impression that "they do not matter much." Or as one of Berry's Christian friends put it, "The soul of the plowboy ain't worth as much as the soul of the delivery boy."
This dilemma is a bit foreign to me I suppose. I grew up in the Catholic church and finding a qualified priest to lead our parish was never a problem. The archdiocese simply assigned them to us on a 10-year rotation. I'm quite sure the priests had some say in the matter and seniority or preference was taken into consideration, but for the most part they were subject to the decision of the Archbishop.
While examining this issue my gut impulse was to try and look beyond economics to some sort of cultural feature that would lead to the phenomenon Berry discusses. I theorized that perhaps it's an ego thing. Bigger churches imply a minister is doing a good job and obviously reaching more people furthers their evangelical goals. There's also the possibility that some urban congregations are more complex and offer greater challenges. Ultimately though I think both of these fall short. In the end, money does play an important part in the equation.
My problem in writing about this is that I guess I just don't like the idea of money playing a big role in the lives of the clergy. Again maybe my Catholic upbringing is at work here. To get a different perspective I spoke to my wife about this because she grew up in the Methodist church and is much more in-tune with the specifics of Protestant denominations than I am as an outsider. She informed me that her perspective is that the phenomenon described in the Darryl Hart piece is certainly true, but she thought the story being told was a bit too blame-ridden and not an entirely realistic perspective.
While it's true that rural churches do see a lot more change in their ministries, it's not fair to blame the frequent turnover of ministers on the larger urban/suburban congregations. There's no conspiracy, no secret belief that these congregations are somehow more important and more in need of talented ministers. The simple truth is that rural congregations are typically small. Salaries are low, often offset by providing a parsonage (residence) to the minister for free. So it's a good place to start out when expectations of pay and the need for a higher salary are low. Fast-forward to five years later when the minister has met and married a nice girl he met at a Wedesday night potluck and they have a toddler and another on the way. Suddenly the parsonage seems pretty small and the pay seems to just not cut it. What choice does the minister have but to look elsewhere, knowing someday he will be paying college tuition for those two children and would like to have enough elbow room in his home that his family doesn't kill one another?
In the Catholic church priests didn't have to worry about putting kids through college or varying salaries. They all pretty much made the same amount of money and they all knew they had a comfortable rectory to come home to every night. Their needs are small and this facilitates a degree of dependability. So economics do matter and I think Hart is way off base in putting so much blame on urban and suburban congregations. Ministers are individuals who, while having high moral obligations, are also human and have human needs. Moreover, the fact that they marry and have families certainly complicates things further (but I would contend for the better).
Hart suggests other ideas as to why the lure of the big cities is so strong:
Of course, the reasons why evangelicals fawn over the city may stem from sources other than the obvious appeal of bright lights and big buildings. One of them may be a born-again infatuation with celebrity and the disillusionment that follows when public figures like Mark Sanford or Miss California, Carrie Prajean, fall from grace. Evangelicals are disposed to understand grace and faith in extraordinary categories and so overlook stories of ordinary believers, routine piety, and even rural congregations as insignificant. Discontent with the average and routine aspects of natural life and of grace appears to breed a similar dissatisfaction with humble ministries in places of little interest to the editors of the Times.
Obviously there is some ego involved in wanting to minister to a larger flock, but larger churches also make it easier to focus on the actual ministry. In a small church the minister is sort of an everyman who has to wear a lot of hats. In large urban churches the lay folks do much of the heavy lifting. While the church itself may be more complicated, with a school attached, various programs and ministries and perhaps an involved missionary component, there are also a lot of shoulders the minister can lean on while he concentrates on the business of 'saving souls.'
Lastly, I think there's some truth to the notion that maybe these rural churches enjoy their roles as training grounds for new ministers and feel it is part of their mission. The same simpler life that Front Porch Republic likes to exalt on a regular basis also means different goals for rural churches and also different notions of what they need. I'm pretty curious if the complaints that Hart mentions are those of the actual congregations or just a rurally-sympathetic outsider looking in? Is Hart guilty of putting his own ego into this equation and being unnecessarily offended on the behalf of small town churches? For all the cities that love their major league baseball teams there are plenty of little towns that love their minor league status and actually feel that the game is played more honestly there, even if the players are more transient. There's reason in my mind to believe that the ministry may be no different.
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Mike is the author of the blog The Big Stick. This is what he wants you to know about himself:
I've been blogging at The Big Stick for about a year and a half. I used to cover all sorts of topics (mostly national politics) but I've recently changed direction to focus on what I refer to as 'the intersection between urban and rural life' and associated issues like education and agriculture. I have also been known to write about my garden and my Labrador Retriever, Murphy.My educational background includes a BA in History and a BA in Anthropology both from the University of Louisville. I also had a minor in Political Science. I worked for the University of Kentucky for three years as an archeologist and then I did another couple of years as a public educator with several historical sites and museums around town. Now I work in finance with a big Fortune 500 company and spend most of my days buried in spreadsheets and pie charts. It's been a weird career change, though I can't complain about the paychecks.I live in Louisville, KY and am married with two daughters, ages 14 and 10. I have far too many hobbies to list here but cooking seems to always rank near the top.
