My name is Jason and I’m a rural pastor.
My wife
and I consider rural ministry our calling for life – even though I wasn’t born
in a small town. I was born in Los
Angeles, population: 7.25 million people (in 1977).
Los Angeles, CA: 7.25
million
Other
rural pastors can usually brag about their cowboy or mountain-roaming roots;
but for me, the country setting of America wasn’t originally in my
wheelhouse. “Rural” was a stereotypical
word that gave me mental images of Little
House on the Prairie scenes with horseback riding and long underwear attire. I know how most native rural people respond: what’s wrong with that? But to clear up any urban stereotypical
questions: I wasn’t a part of an L.A. gang; I wasn’t taught how to spray paint
graffiti at school; nor did I own any cardigan sweaters or surfboards. We did go to Jack Hayford’s mega church though, where
I followed Jesus at an early age. And, I did meet movie stars.
Tulsa, OK: 350K
In
1989, my parents moved us to Tulsa, OK with a population of 350,000. Although significantly smaller, it was still relatively
urban. I went to another large church. I attended a large school that graduated 700
students in 1995 (and I only knew about half of them). We went to the mall every weekend and drove
on four-lane asphalt roads with multiple street lights. I was a full-fledge city boy.
Mannford, OK: 3,500
But God has
a funny sense of humor. My first
ministry experience took me to a small town of about 3,500 people. It only had one stoplight. For the next 12 years I served as a youth
pastor for a church around 150 in size, and I never felt more at home. Pastor Don Yandell showed me how to visit the
sick, pray for the hurting, and treat everyone with dignity regardless of race,
gender, or social class. His specialty was hospitality. He was patient with this city boy and
invested in me. Little did I know I was
being bitten by the rural bug.
To complete the metamorphosis, I met a small town girl who never thought she’d marry a big city
boy. God is funny like that and now
she’s stuck, I tell her. In 15 years of
marital bliss, she has successfully turned me into a country boy. (Well, kind of. I have boots, but I still love and miss the ocean.) To this day, our three kids have been born
and raised in small towns. They’ll have
rural roots they may or may not be proud of, and it makes me smile.
Broken Bow, OK: 4,000
Our
family was drawn to another small town for the next three years where I served a larger church of about 250 (again as youth pastor). This town had three stoplights! Pastor Terry Bradley showed me how to excel
in administration and personal growth, teaching me also how to manage systems and
teams. By this time, the rural
transformation in my heart had not only taken root, but was confirmed in dreams
and visions about our ministry future.
Barnsdall, OK: 1,200
In 2014,
God began to stir our hearts about becoming senior pastors. It was both exciting and extremely
frightening. As we prayed and fasted, God
continued to confirm our rural calling which helped us navigate the open-church
list with purpose and precision. We also
submitted to our denominational leadership which helped direct us to yet another
small town.
By June
of that year, Barnsdall Assembly of God decided to take a risk on a first-time,
young senior pastor. They didn’t really
have a choice, though – our names were the only ones in the running. They had less than 20 people, no money in the
bank, no organized board to help lead, and no parsonage. But we didn’t mind; we were at total peace
that God had put the nativity-star over Barnsdall that led us to this
place. Brenda didn’t flinch when it was
suggested that our family live in the church.
Our kids didn’t care that all their beds were crammed in one room
formerly used for Sunday School. I’ll be
honest though, it was pretty rough when some church folks would come in without
calling ahead first just because they had a church key. We lived like that for 26 months and somehow,
God gave us a grace to deal with it all. The folks there have been incredibly loving and progressive, with slow, steady growth.
It was the praying and fasting beforehand that clenched a resolute, all-in-spirit within us. Either God would build His church or we’d die trying. If we failed, we figured we would just brush ourselves off and get back up again. I mean, all we were really doing was saying yes to God.
By His
grace, three years later our attendance averages about 70 on Sundays and 50 on
Wednesday night Bible study. People are
getting saved and discipled. We give to
missions. We have a diversity of age groups. We’ve saved a little over
three months of expenses in the bank.
Our church is community-focused and gets involved regularly. And get this: at our first board meeting, men
full of faith decided to build a church parsonage! When I stop and think about all God has done
and continues to do, I’m blown away at the craziness of it all; even in our
little town of 1,200.
I’m
aware of several other city folks that haven’t had much success in rural
ministry. Pastoring in small towns isn’t
easy. You have to be available;
committed for the long haul; and willing to be patient when the pace of life
moves slower than anticipated. You also
have to guard against complacency and push yourself to learn more and lead
better. I’ve learned that wherever God
leads me I will follow. He is the lamp
unto my feet, and sometimes all I see is the very next step. God is funny like that.
Long
story short, here I am a city boy in rural America. And I love it.
