In Which I try to Convince You to Move North

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a while but there have been doors to be painted and walls to be trimmed and a river to be explored and priorities to be had. But today I’m glad I haven’t had the time yet because something of note happened.

As I stood in line at my local post office, waiting to pick up a package (needing to say neither my name nor my box number because after only two months, they know both by my face), I overheard two other folks in line talking. One recently relocated from Alabama, citing the climate drove her to it, and the other, from California, cited city prices for their move. They both gushed about the people, the seasons, and the nature here. I didn’t wait to see if they’d weathered a winter yet. Our friend and realtor told us this year has been one for the books with transplants from other states. Houses flying on the market every day.

A few weeks ago I read an article about a new kind of migration that will befall the United States in the next few decades: climate migration. I may lose half of you just by saying those words, politicized as caring for the earth seems to be these days. But I’ll risk it because I believe creation care is the primary call on the life of every believer (creation being anything and everything God has created). The renewal belongs to the King but the work belongs to us all. Alas, we were all born after the fall and so the toil only gets harder and harder as time goes on. The earth is getting hotter, the fires more intense, the hurricanes more common, and the sea levels changing. “What will people do?” the article asked. Move north, they posit. In droves. And soon.

What does this have to do with the influx of transplants to this small town in Northern New York where the winters don’t play around but every other season is nearly perfect in every way? Here’s what’s been on my mind for weeks now: If the primary call on the life of the believer is creation care, and the most principle part of that call is to make disciples, where better for American Christians to begin forming churches than in the small rural towns dotting the northern states?

Right now there is a dearth of churches in the north and serious Christians are limited to two or three choices—usually so wildly different theologically that it ends up feeling like just one choice if you want to gather with likeminded believers. For many the choice becomes too difficult to make (for a swath of really good and legitimate reasons) and they decide not to belong to a local church. I know folks who could write circles around that particular choice, but I suspect most of those folks live in a city or suburb or the Bible belt or a place where the dearth is only something they have to imagine and not experience. (Full disclosure, I left here ten years ago in search of what I couldn’t find here. Not everyone has the means or the desire to leave, and many who do, never come back.)

The thing is: we need churches in these rural places. It’s not a cool place to plant, for sure. Like, if you come in here with hoopla and a five year plan and hope to be self-sufficient in less than ten years, you’ve got another thing coming. That (sometimes) works in places where the church is still part of social fabric of life. It does not work in post-Christian, post-church places like this. Here the planting takes much longer, pastors may have to be bi-vocational, and folks aren’t impressed with what seminary you went to or how many followers you have on social media. They want to know: Will you chat with them in line at the Post Office? Will you bring them a basket of vegetables from your garden? Will you write them off because they have a Trump or Biden sign in their yard? Or a rainbow flag flying? Will you judge them for using marijuana? Will you judge them for belonging to a particular church in a land of limited churches?

Here’s some great things about my town: It’s home to two major universities (with another two ten minutes away). Every season is 100% what that season is. Don’t expect to have balmy days in the winter or cold days in the summer. Expect mud in the spring and spectacular autumns. It’s diverse, mostly white residents, but a heavy mix of international undergrad, graduate, and PhD students when classes are in session. But also very diverse politically. There is a huge LGBTQ community here and a large Amish community, there are university academics and organic farmers, blue collar workers and world class musicians. It’s not without town drama and real reasons for concern, but it’s also not without its charms and real reasons to love it. It’s a great town. And there are thousands more like it all over the north.

For years and years I’ve heard folks talk about how necessary it is for Christians to move to the cities, “where culture is made,” but if 2016 taught us anything, it’s that something is afoot outside cities too. And I believe that as climate change continues to advance in the next several decades, one way Christians can move ahead of it is to literally, move ahead of it. Literally, move north. Plant churches in the north. Come up here. Come now, before the influx happens and there aren’t enough churches. Not because you or I or anyone is afraid, but because just as the south has seen a resurgence in occupants over the last several decades from cheaper living expenses, the north will see a resurgence because of a more livable climate. (Also, if cheaper living expenses are your thing, full disclosure, we purchased our home in town and on the river, and completely renovated it inside and out for under $130,000 total. Sure, we pay a little more in taxes and groceries, but still much, much less than we were paying in Dallas, Denver, or DC. Jobs are a concern, too, but one of the ways we create jobs is to bring jobs, meaning we need creative folks in rural areas creating opportunities for people to work. Or, if you can work remotely, that’s great too. Many do.

So this is my little call out to you. If you’re wondering where God might be calling you to work, if climate change is a real concern for you, but also you want to engage in real, measurable change, if you can be a bi-vocational church leader, or if you simply just want a slower and more spacious pace of life, or more nature, maybe consider moving north. Whenever people ask how it is for us, I always respond by saying, “There are ten-thousand beautiful things about moving home here and ten-thousand hard things.” No, it’s not a perfect place and there are real challenges to living outside a major city, but I do believe the country is the new city and we need Christians in these spaces desperately.

One of the many closed churches in the area. A shuttered church building is not a rare sight in the north.