My friend Prof Casey Cobb, associate professor of history at Roane State, asked this morning for some thoughts about teaching and parish ministry in Appalachia. This is that reflection.
I grew up in Appalachia -- particularly in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains in Sevier County. Most of my formative years were spent in Pigeon Forge, that "Mecca" of tourism. My first job as a high school student was in one of the tourist country music shows in that area -- the "Bonnie Lou and Buster Smoky Mtn. Hayride Show". I attended college in Appalachia -- just 45 mins from my childhood home, at Carson-Newman. After seminary, nearly all of my formative years in ministry have been spent in Eastern Tennessee and Southwestern Virginia. Whatever Appalachian might be, surely I'm not only that, but this is my place, and these are my people.
Perhaps the most important principle for ministry was classically articulated by that Anglican priest-turned-maverick-preacher, John Wesley: "Do no harm".
And statistics tell us there's plenty of harm done in Appalachia. I needn't rehearse the last few weeks' news of the ecological, economical and cultural disaster in West Virginia. Those are also my people, that is also my place. Appalachia stretches some 205,000 square miles. From Southern New York to Nothern Mississippi. 42% of that region's population is "rural". Currently, over 80 of the counties in that region are "economically depressed". The poverty rate hovers at just over 18%, compared to 12% in the rest of the country. Literacy rates in Appalachia are far less than the rest of the country. Poverty rates range from over 20 to as high as 54%. Because of the region's relative isolation, health care is often difficult. For that reason alone, prescription drug abuse continues to rise. Safe and affordable housing is still an issue.
Into the world of those statistics, I step everyday in ministry in the church or in the academy. I've preached and worshipped, taught and ministered here in a variety of contexts. In response to my baptismal and ordination vows, my first work is to "do no harm" to a people and to a region that knows so much harm.
Over a century ago missionaries were being sent to the mountains of Appalachia. Their "modus operandi" was an evangelism based on a colonialism model. Not only convert the locals but change them, too. The Holy Spirit would change their hearts for Jesus and the missionaries would change their culture to duplicate a more western civilized one.
There was some "success". But largely that move discounted so much of the rich culture, tradition and lives of these places, these people.
I hardly think of myself as the missionary or preacher or teacher sent to the backwoods folk. These are my co-laborers in the Gospel work. I learn as much from them as I teach them.
While I applaud the work that's done in the region to enrich the lives of these people, my heart grieves for the harm still done to them. To us.
Because there's hardly a uniformity to being Appalachian. It's been a stereotype to be "Appalachian" for that 100 years. Categorizing the region this way has only marginalized its people. Somehow others are "smarter", "better" and even "holier" as they step onto this turf.
My ministry -- both as a parish priest and as a college professor -- has been first focused on listening. Living with them, living here, has taught me a rich mutuality. Instead of being a "fixer" and them "the fixed", we are a people who share stories about a place, a history, a culture that's distinctive in so many ways. Rich, even, in a diversity that spans so many communities.
Wesley said that the first task of Christians is to "do no harm". That's my work, day in and day out. In a region and with a people for whom "hurt" names so many aspects of our lives.