by Meredith McNabb

In the United States, the season of Thanksgiving often brings displays and images of ‘cornucopias’—horns of plenty—in which grains, fruits, nuts, and other signs of a successful harvest are overflowing onto the table as a representation of gratitude and celebration for plenty. It’s an ancient symbol of agrarian abundance—but for many urban and suburban contexts today, it has more to do with craft stores and florists’ work than with the actual abundance of harvest and a farmers’ work.

A Natural Counterbalance to Scarcity

At a recent conference exploring rural Christian congregations’ engagement with their communities, scholar and Spring Forest monastic community leader Elaine Heath observed that rural communities of faith are uniquely attuned to the abundance of God—and to the goodness of slow, patient work in participating in that abundance. The scarcity mindset for so many congregations and their surrounding communities has a natural counterbalance in the wisdom and experience of farmers, ranchers, and gardeners. Growth isn’t instantaneous, and there’s real work and risk involved, but there’s genuine abundance when the harvest comes. (A Thanksgiving display of an overflowing crate full of zucchini and tomatoes might be an even more accurate image of abundance for many in 21^st century North America.)

Recognizing one’s own assets and organizational impact is a crucial aspect of any religious organization looking to invite others to participate with their time or their money. It’s the difference, in many cases, between transactional, or even desperate requests, and the kind of invitations that can transform both the givers and the recipients. When leaders in any geography have a solid foundation in their congregation or organization’s reason for being and its unique asset base for living that out, those invitations are easier to make and are more effective. Rural and small town settings have a more uphill journey as they grapple with significant challenges and disparities in their communities.

United Methodist Bishop Tom Berlin, leading 700-some churches across Florida, points to disparities in rural infrastructure, mental health services, workforce development, access to capital, high speed internet access, educational institutions, and hospital closures—but notes that these significant needs of people in rural areas might actually be exactly where rural congregations have assets and strengths. “Focus on the needs of people, not the need of the [congregation] for people,” Berlin said.

Recognizing Intangible Abundance

Rural relational capital, resourcefulness, history, and intergenerational connections contribute to a robust if sometimes intangible abundance among the people in rural communities—but it’s an abundance that’s woven deep in rural congregations. But all this also points to an economic abundance rooted in rural congregations that often goes unnoticed in the wider conversations about the economic challenges—perhaps because those intangibles are ‘just what we do’ for many of the rural congregations themselves.

In McCordsville, Indiana, for instance, the annual Lord’s Acre Festival dates back more than 70 years, with people volunteering and participating in the fish fry (and in more recent years, face painting) for their whole lives—and while they’re glad of the fundraising that comes through the event (Pastor Daniel Payton notes that the event raises tens of thousands of dollars annually), they’re even more focused on the annual connection and the fun of pulling together to make it happen.

Partners for Sacred Places has long studied the “economic halo effect” of churches, synagogues, and other houses of worship on their neighborhoods—and their first study of specifically rural congregations¹ calculated an average annual economic impact of between nearly half and three-quarters of a million dollars each as they serve as community hubs, oasis points of needed childcare, and centers for support for individuals and families as well as simply existing as economic actors in their communities. It’s an impact far outpacing their budgets—and it tells a whole different story about what it can mean to invest in a rural congregation for an individual giver or a philanthropic institution. These congregations can be robust settings for all manner of good, far beyond their own walls and members.

The census trends point to the real potential oversupply of congregations in rural areas, as the National Congregations Study notes that “nearly half of [US] congregations are in rural areas (25 percent) or small towns (22 percent), while the 2020 census found that only 6 percent of Americans live in rural areas and 8 percent in small towns.”But those numbers suggest that partnership, consolidation, and experimentation are called for, not disinvestment or despair.

The abundance of rural congregations (and other religious organizations) may be overlooked by folks outside those communities—or even by those inside them who have become accustomed to a scarcity lens. But there is more than meets the eye, in both resources and opportunities, in rural religious communities.

¹Partners for Sacred Places studied rural United Methodist Christian congregations in North Carolina and found that on average, each congregation generates $735,800 in annual economic impact.  Excluding the congregations located in the top 10% and bottom 10% of the sample size, they found an average annual economic impact of $488,598 each. 

Questions for Reflection

1. 1. When you’ve been part of the same community for a long time, it’s not always easy to see what’s right in front of you. What are some examples of abundance in your congregation that may be taken for granted?
   2. Urban, suburban, rural — our surroundings impact the way we view our work. How does the setting in which your organization is situated inform your vision and mission?