When I survey all the places where my priestly experiences and education might take me, I see that the world is my proverbial oyster. It seems there are always opportunities on both coasts of the U.S. as well as in Europe, Taiwan, the Caribbean, or plenty of other locales.
Even so, to this point in my ministry I have felt the strongest call to the Midwest. And it is in this part of the country that my family and I have genuinely thrived. I’d like to take a few minutes of your time to explain why, but here’s the bottom line: It’s not what you think, and you’ll never know until you come see for yourself.
Instead of racing past it all at impossible speed from 35,000 feet, you should try to get on the ground some time in Iowa or Missouri or Kansas. At once you see that what you formerly imagined as an endless expanse of corn fields and telephone poles and stereotypes about people is actually a land of undeniable beauty, genius, resource, and diversity.
Here, on the ground, you encounter the fullness and variation of the wild world. The bald sameness of the Midwest you thought you knew so well from TV and movies is realized as a distant fiction. Until you’ve seen it on your own – the Flint Hills in Kansas; the Driftless Area in Wisconsin; Effigy Mounds in Iowa; the tallgrass prairie or hardwood forests or mighty cities like St. Louis or Kansas City or Little Rock – until you’ve tasted these things for yourself, with time to linger, it’s hard to judge.
Yes, in some places around here you certainly will encounter your share of tractors. It’s important to see the agricultural life not as quaint affectations seen from a windshield, but rather as the signal of the noble struggle to feed the earth, and to do it in a way that squares with the lastest in business planning. Yes, you will see your share of small towns. But don’t confuse census numbers with small-mindedness. And yes, you will run into people whose opinions about politics or theology may not square with your own. This is not a bug; it’s a feature! I have struck up parking lot conversations with people whose bumper stickers would make a sailor blush, but who at heart are actually just really hungry for some good word and a listening ear.
Also, out here you can actually afford a tank of gas. Several years ago I moved from one of the most expensive parts of the country (in the Intermountain West) to northwest Iowa. I was pleasantly shocked to find a land in which almost all of the basics of life could be had within reasonable financial reach, including home ownership. I remember standing at the grocery store the first time and almost blushing at how cheap a loaf of good bread could be. Similarly, I found myself generally paying less in taxes but still receiving comparable municipal and state services. And when I saw for myself how dedicated and knowledgeable my kids’ school teachers and administrators were, I began to feel very much at home.
Last thing for now: you can actually build up the church here. In my capacity as a diocesan employee, every week I get to meet people who are eager to make the church go and to put Christ’s words into action. Everywhere you stop and look there are faithful, entrepreneurial Episcopalians who are getting the job done. You’ll find that your priestly ministry is every bit as valuable and necessary and appreciated to these wonderful people as it is anywhere else.
Finally … hey, I do realize that telling you to consider relocating to the Midwest is a big ask. It may involve a change in assumptions, wardrobe, life patterns, or even your own vocational identity. Just know that we are here, and we’re going to stay here; we feel strong about the future God has for us; and we need terrific partners to help make it all work. So please come see what this is all about.
May God continue to richly bless you in your ministry.
The Rev. Torey Lightcap is Canon to the Ordinary in the Diocese of Kansas.