“If I just wanted to be rural, I’d go back home.”
That’s what a young man said to me at a conference on church health. He had just finished a pastoral internship and was looking for his first church. I offered to connect him with a solid congregation in my region that was looking for a pastor. It seemed like a great fit… until I told him where the church was located!
“I’m looking for more of a crossroads community where I can maximize my efforts.”
I wasn’t surprised. I’ve heard variations of that line before. It’s not unusual for young pastors to aim for a place where they believe they’ll make the most impact. But his comment stuck in my craw. Not because I was offended, but because of the earnestness of his assumptions. His words reflect exactly what he’s been trained to think.
It’s anecdotal, but many conversations with men training for ministry show evidence of an urban/suburban bias.
Bias?
That may seem like an odd term to use, but it’s a good way to describe guiding assumptions that are unconscious and unchecked. Many aspiring pastors, even after years of studying ecclesiology, learning how to rightly handle the Word, and thinking carefully about mission and leadership, walk away from their training thinking of small places as “just rural.” I can’t say I blame them. It’s hard to argue with the logic.
When most of the world’s population lives in cities or along major corridors, and when you only have so many leaders and so much money to go around, it makes sense to send those who can carry the most weight to the places where they’ll reach the most people. That’s good stewardship, right?
When someone says, “We’re targeting urban centers because that’s where the people are,” the logic is easily affirmed. In fact, I’ve said it myself. There’s a reason the early church spread the way it did, along major roads, through port cities, and into cultural hubs. Paul aimed for Ephesus and Corinth, not the places like Nazareth or Bethany (though not everyone passed by those communities!).
It also seems fair to assume that rural places are mostly reached. There are church buildings everywhere, and rural people generally appear to operate from at least a basic form of Christian ethics. It’s hard to get excited about ministering in a place like that when there are so many communities with more obvious needs.
If that’s your logic, then prioritizing crossroads communities, urban centers, and unreached people groups is the right move. Places like that carry obvious strategic values.
Unless there’s something we’ve overlooked.
The logic holds only if the Great Commission is primarily about people. If the mission is simply to reach as many people as we can, as efficiently as we can, then it makes perfect sense to direct our resources toward population density.
Hold the phone. Am I arguing that Jesus sent His people to make disciples of something other than people?
Not exactly. The Great Commission is obviously directed toward people. You can’t make disciples out of dogs or pine trees. But, there are some principles behind this commission I believe we’ve failed to account for in our missional strategery.
The Great Commission isn’t just about people. It’s also connected to place. The salvation of people is not merely an opportunity for the lost to be found. It’s also the occasion for the gospel to be made visible. The proclamation of the gospel leads to the representation of the One who saves (and created all things for His glory).
In other words, God’s plan is not just to save individuals. His plan is to fill the Earth with a visible display of His glory! It’s not just about how many are evangelized and discipled, but about the statement their new life in Christ makes.
This commission doesn’t begin in Matthew 28. It starts in Genesis 1. Before sin, before the fall, before the need for salvation, there was already a call to go. You’re familiar with it, right?
Before the end of Genesis 1, God said something like “Hey, image-bearing, dominion-exercising people, Be fruitful, multiply, fill the Earth, and subdue it.”
God wasn’t interested in pooling people together for a centralized saturation of His glory. He had intentions far beyond Eden. From the start, God’s plan was to fill the Earth with His representatives until every corner of creation reflected His glory.
After the fall, God’s plan didn’t change. He still intended to make His glory known through image-bearing, dominion-exercising people. This is clear in God’s post-flood repeat of the Genesis 1 commission, as well as in His insistence on dispersion during the Tower of Babel episode in Genesis 11.
Then, in Genesis 12, God sets Abraham apart so that His family could represent Him in a way that would impact every nation. In Exodus 1 we see echoes of Genesis 1 in the flourishing of the Israelites in Egypt. In Exodus 19, God says Israel will be a kingdom of priests to display His holiness among the nations. This is about global representation!
You can hear similar language in the Psalms as they make declarations, such as, “Let the nations be glad,” and “Let all the ends of the Earth fear Him.” But, even more clear is the statement made In Habakkuk 2:14, “The Earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”
Just through a quick overview of these foundational principles, it becomes clear that God is not primarily interested in reaching the most concentrated pools of people. He wants to make a much broader statement about His own glory through the decentralization of people into all places.
Jesus picks that thread up and ties it directly to the church. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…” He’s not just sending us to people. He’s sending us to places. God wants His people to go out to build His church, which, according to Paul in Ephesians 3:10-11, possesses the most potent ability to make God’s glory visible.
That’s why the local church is so central to God’s mission. Nothing else in all of Creation carries the capacity of making God’s glory visible like the church.
And, where does God want His glory visible?
Everywhere.
That means no place is “just rural.”
Any community without a healthy church is falling short of God’s purpose for that place. It really doesn’t matter how many church buildings stand, or how Mayberry-like the people seem. Apart from a healthy church, God is not as well-represented as He intends to be. This is a theological problem.
But, how will we establish healthy rural churches if the best-trained men are being trained to prioritize urban and suburban communities?
As long as the notion that the middle of nowhere is “just rural,” we should expect a continuation of the decline of the rural church. If the most gifted men are encouraged to pursue the most dense populations, we can expect the display of God’s glory from cities to grow brighter, while the majority of our landmass remains dark.
I believe a case can be made from Scripture that it’s time to break the link between perceived strategic value and population density. We have to start asking better questions. Where is the church absent? Where is Christ not clearly proclaimed? Where is God not well represented through the lives of His gathered people?
And if the answer includes rural places (and it clearly must), then our theology demands we go there. Not as a backup plan. Not as a stepping stone. Not as a place for retired pastors to die.
Until we recover the theology of representation that God intends to undergird our efforts to fulfill the Great Commission, most of America (97% by landmass) will continue to be dismissed as less strategic, or “just rural.”
So what do we do?
Pray for a shift in thinking that will recover a fuller sense of God’s purpose for creation. Pray for healthy rural churches, led by some of the best preachers of our generation. Why shouldn’t the saints in small towns, no matter how few, or how old, be blessed with the best preaching and shepherding? Should they be deprioritized just because they don’t have as many neighbors? By the way, the lost in rural places are just as lost as their urban counterparts.
Pray, as well, for new churches where the gospel is not visible today. It’s going to take a generation of scrappy men who are willing to figure out how to establish churches in communities that cannot easily support them. Maybe you’re the scrappy kind of guy I’m talking about!
And, would you consider going rural? If you’re an aspiring pastor, reconsider your assumptions. Would you be willing to give your life to the middle of nowhere? If not, why?
But, you don’t have to be a pastor. We need faithful Christians, who might be able to be “more successful” somewhere else to move into rural places to help establish and sustain healthy churches. If you can work remotely, or do your business in a small town (we need more doctors, lawyers, mechanics, teachers, and coffee shops, too!), consider going to a small-town to do it.
Please take a moment to ask yourself this question: If there are places where God’s glory is not on display through the church, are you willing to do something about it? God wants His glory on display here, even if it is “just rural.”
TJ Freeman
As the senior pastor of Christ Church since 2012, TJ has a passion for the rural church. Prior to his arrival at Christ Church he served as a church planter, Biblical counselor, discipleship pastor. and history teacher. He enjoys the outdoors (but only when it’s hot out), and is passionate about sushi.
TJ and his wife Katie have two daughters (Charlotte and Charity), and two sons (Hudson and Grant). TJ serves on the board at the Brainerd Institute for Rural Ministry and can be heard on the Rural Church Renewal and the Back to Rurality Podcasts.
The Brainerd Institute for Rural Ministry exists to equip the saints to lead healthy churches. We offer articles, podcasts, residential training, cohorts, and regional gatherings. For more, visit brainerdinstitiute.com
