John Anderson is the pastor at Spirit of Faith in Woonsocket, South Dakota. It is a church, located in a rural community, that formed when three congregations, two Evangelical Lutheran of America congregations and one United Methodist congregation, were facing declining attendance and resources. Anderson shares the journey toward vitality in a recent blog post in Faith + Lead.

Spirit of Faith in Woonsocket, South Dakota. Dakotas Conference file photo.

Spirit of Faith is a young, growing, vibrant congregation situated along a major highway. Most Sundays you can hear crying babies or busy feet shuffling up and down the rows as parents nervously try to keep these little ones quiet, unaware that this is the most beautiful soundtrack we could have in worship. Since 2020, when I came to serve as their pastor, we have welcomed 154 new members through baptism and profession of faith. We are one of the 20 fastest growing United Methodist congregations in the U.S. All this … in Woonsocket, South Dakota, population 655. 

There is a belief that rural congregations cannot grow or thrive, that the church’s focus—resources and pastors—should go to the most populous places. Pastor Mike Slaughter describes this tendency well: “We continue to try to resuscitate small town and rural churches. […] We send out high-potential young leaders to backwater rural places to function as funeral directors while they ‘pay their dues.’ […] Our best resources need to go to the most competent, courageous, contagious leaders. We need to focus our best strategies on new church places where the majority of people live and work.” 1

So to what may we attribute Spirit of Faith’s growth and thriving, and how might our story help others? Three words sum up our story: risk, authenticity, and welcome.

Risk

The ecclesial forebears of Spirit of Faith are three congregations—two ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) and one UMC (United Methodist Church)—with roots in Woonsocket stretching back as far as the 1880s. Originally operating independent of one another (despite one ELCA congregation and the UMC building sharing a single lot), the first risk was taken in 1970 when the Methodist congregation asked to share the Lutheran minister, creating the Lutheran-Methodist Parish of Woonsocket. For 46 years each congregation retained their individual identities. Then, in 2016, they took the second risk. Facing aging buildings in need of repair and dwindling attendance, the parish voted on Reformation Sunday to merge and form a single congregation; one of the Lutheran congregations opted not to join. Shortly thereafter, the third risk was taken: demolishing the two aging church buildings to make room for construction of a new, energy-efficient and handicap-accessible facility on the same site.

While it is not feasible for most rural congregations to risk literal rebuilding of brick and mortar, being willing to risk rebuilding the body of Christ through inter-denominational partnerships is an actionable step that may benefit many rural congregations. Many denominations are actively encouraging and exploring this model of ministry, so now is the perfect time to inquire. This may take the form of simple partnerships or, like Spirit of Faith, daring to become something new entirely. There are risks and potential barriers to this. Theological differences between denominations on core faith issues may create unease. Congregants may be deeply emotionally attached to the past, or even a particular building. Change is scary. Change is risky. But better to “die” taking a risk for the gospel than to close your doors without trusting, and trying.

But change and risk in pursuit of the gospel is also biblical. The psalmist sings, “How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!” (Psalm 133:1). Qoheleth urges that “a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12b). And Paul devoted his life to the radical expansion of God’s people through the inclusion of gentiles, writing that Christ “has made both into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us […] that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two. […] So then, you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God” (Ephesians 2:14-15, 19). 

At a very basic level, resisting risky change is a distrust of the continued work of the Spirit. My people are a remarkably spirit-attuned group. That did not come naturally; it was born of taking the risk, trusting that God could do a new thing, and seeing the fruit that blossomed … even in deeply rural Woonsocket, SD. Or anywhere else a congregation dares to explore conscious ministry partnerships that will strengthen the gospel’s proclamation, lest the word of the LORD become rare in our days also (1 Samuel 3:1b). 

Authenticity

When I ask any of our members what made them decide to join, they consistently cite two words: the first is authenticity. A congregation is more than the personality of the pastor, yet a congregation can be shaped in profound ways by the pastor. I first came to Spirit of Faith in a supply preaching capacity. As such, I felt comfortable being myself. I warned them on day one that while I love the gospel, I also love professional wrestling, Billy Joel, and peanut butter. To my surprise, this resonated with them. They asked if I’d consider sticking around, and I’ve now been serving them for five years—during which I’ve done sermons on wrestling, Billy Joel, and even peanut butter!

When I was considering their invitation of a call, I shared with one of the members I trusted that if I was going to do this, I had to be true to who I am. I’m an accidental pastor—a religion professor who now also serves the rural church. I will never forget her words: “Be yourself. We like authenticity.” This is true of most congregations, I suspect. And it was the greatest permission I ever received: even as a pastor, I can be myself. You can be yourself. You should be yourself. For me, that means balancing challenging preaching with laughter. I show comics before every sermon to set the tone. The church is filled with praise and laughter every week, remembering that Jesus wants his joy to be complete and in us (John 15:11). 

Church leaders, be your authentic self. Congregations can sniff out when you aren’t. Lean into your idiosyncrasies. Embrace who God created you to be. Preach the gospel as yourself. Tell stories from your own life. Don’t be afraid to be the fool of the story. Learn to laugh in worship. Admit your own faults. Say “we” instead of “I/you.” Be authentic, and the congregation will follow. Jesus called ordinary folk from ordinary ways of life to be his followers; we are in good company if we strive to cultivate that today.

Welcome

The second word members mention about the thriving of the church is welcome. This may seem obvious: any church of Jesus should be welcoming. There is a difference, however, between saying you are welcoming and actually being welcoming. It is not uncommon for churches to say all are welcome, with an unwritten asterisk next to “all”—all but … Part of my authenticity, though, meant ethically I had to preach the gospel as I understood it. I incorporate hot-button issues and real-world examples in messages. This has meant a message on George Floyd and racism the week after his killing, or wrestling with the Uvalde school shooting or immigration. Addressing these topics from the pulpit gives people the opportunity to process them within a faith framework while also casting the net of welcome and inclusion more widely.

Most recently, the United Methodist Church has undergone a separation over human sexuality. I have addressed this issue many times from the pulpit—not in focused messages on the topic but weaving it into the larger lesson for the day. Through my own authenticity and attempt at faithful preaching, the congregation has become a place of radical welcome and inclusivity, where ALL are welcome, no asterisk needed.

Just a few months after I came to Spirit of Faith, the COVID-19 pandemic hit. After 2 weeks of leading worship from my basement and one week alone in the sanctuary, I purchased the last FM transmitter I could find online, and on Palm Sunday 2020 we held our first drive-in worship service from the church parking lot. We would continue this through October, when we returned to the building with a mask mandate. Having the ability to gather together when the world shut down nurtured that sense of welcome in ways no preaching ever could. 

How do you cultivate a truly welcoming congregation, especially when rural settings are often more conservative on many such issues? You show them Jesus—and the radical hospitality and welcome he extended. This message, studies have shown, is especially appealing to young people—Millennial generation and after. In 2022, 41 out of our 45 new members were under the age of 40!

A rural Jesus

After hearing from Philip that the long-awaited messiah had arrived, “Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth,” Nathanael asks, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip’s response? “Come and see” (John 1:45-46). Nazareth was a small, rural backwater in the time of Jesus. It certainly wasn’t the home of the messiah. 

Jesus grew up rural2, my friends. He was born in Bethlehem, which in Hebrew means “house of bread”—an agricultural community with a threshing floor and a grain elevator. His father was a tekton, often regarded as a carpenter but more likely a skilled woodworker and stone-mason that repaired farming equipment. And while he often went to the cities, much of his ministry occurred in remote places with few people, and agricultural metaphors abound in his teaching about the Kingdom of God. 

This is a small part of the story of what has made Spirit of Faith what it is today. But rural congregations are ripe for innovation. If you don’t think it’s possible for anything good to come out of a rural town like Woonsocket, SD, or (insert your town name here), we will do well to remember that when God sent his one and only Son to redeem humanity, he didn’t send him to Rome or Athens or Jerusalem. He sent him to a no-name, forgotten town that few people knew or cared about. “Can anything good come out of….?” Absolutely. God’s done it before. And will continue to do so, if we trust the spirit to guide us in taking the risk of fostering inter-denominational partnerships and authentic, welcoming communities of faith.