I read an article from the Washington Post on my smartphone the other day. Given that I live in a small town in rural Iowa, that fact would probably have surprised the author. Here’s a link to the article if you’d like to read it: https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/in-kiron-iowa-pop-229-the-meaning-of-a-life-a-death-and-another-cup-of-coffee/2017/04/16/71203c06-2078-11e7-ad74-3a742a6e93a7_story.html?utm_term=.a471318d0d93

The article was written partially as a ‘human interest’ piece, focusing on life in the small town of Kiron, Iowa, but it was also an indirect editorial about Rep. Steve King, in my opinion. Please note that my comments here are not meant to reflect a pro or con stance regarding our current US Representative; my goal is to set politics aside and focus on our current situation here in Iowa. The author implied multiple times that rural Iowa life is something that is shrinking, dying, and fading away. I enjoy analyzing statistics (what a geek, huh?) so I dug into the author’s facts regarding the growth or shrinkage of various Iowa towns and found what I think are flaws. Of course, I’m also aware of the old saying that there are “lies, damn lies, and statistics”, so I’ll let all that pass and assume the author can back up their story using various numbers. As I continued to read the article, I noticed that it focused on one community’s reaction to the passing of one of their own. The author seemed to struggle to grasp that the community at large was mourning his loss. In fact, the author seemed to struggle with many of the conversations witnessed. Discussions of planting time, growing seasons, and, especially, detailed local knowledge seemed a surprise. As I finished the article, I must admit I found nothing in the author’s writings that surprised me. It was pretty much what I would have written five years ago (prior to moving here), although I’m certain my prose would not have been so eloquent.

However, here’s the problem: It’s not true. The image that people who are not from here see is only a veneer that, when scraped away, allows an alive and vibrant community to be uncovered. Those outside of here can’t see it. Even worse, perhaps those who have lived here all their lives don’t see what we have today. My family and I have lived here for five years now. That’s the blink of an eye for most of you readers, I know. However, being here five years puts me in a position to still have strong memories of where I came from, while also giving me enough time to begin to understand my new environment.

Here’s what I think about rural Iowa. To misquote Mark Twain, “The rumors of our death have been greatly exaggerated.” The outside world, including a reporter from the Washington Post, has bought into this rumor. Unfortunately, I fear that some of us have as well. Now, we can’t do much about a Washington reporter and their opinions, but we can do something about our own thoughts. Friends, we are not dead. I’d argue that we aren’t even dying. What we are doing now is changing. This area has been through some very difficult times, none of which I was here here to witness. Many of those times, especially the 1980s, had the look of death about them. So, this will not be a lecture on how we need to stand up straight and get going again. That’s unnecessary. What we all need to do is look around us and see the joys that we already have here. We need to see the life that we have been given. Here’s what I mean: We have the privilege of knowing our neighbors. We have the privilege of seeing friends randomly around town on any given day. We have the joy of being able to walk anywhere in this town and feeling safe and secure. If I could bring myself to do it, I could leave my car unlocked overnight and it would almost assuredly still be there tomorrow (although we have had some instances of vandalism recently, so maybe I won’t start doing that this week). I’ve discovered that I can get to and from the grocery store in less than 10 minutes, and that includes the time it takes to grab the one more item we need for supper that night. I can walk into any of the coffee shops in town and be surprised if there isn’t anyone there that I know.

None of the things I list above are options anywhere else that I’ve lived. I’ve always lived in much larger cities where concerns over growth and position take center stage. In the city, we worry that we live in the ‘right’ part of town (and ‘right’ can take on many different meanings). We certainly wouldn’t dream of leaving our car unlocked, much less leaving the keys in it while we ran errands. Trips to the grocery store take 45 minutes if you catch the lights right. Neighbors might wave to each other, but most often don’t bother. Rarely do you see a friend or acquaintance around town outside of a scheduled meeting. There are, of course, more things to do than here, but the great unspoken secret is that locals don’t really take advantage of those things. There are also many things that are attractive about larger cities, of course, and I wish residents of those cities well as they take advantage of those things. My point is that we also have attractive things here, giving us a quality of life that cannot be replicated (and perhaps not even seen) by those who live elsewhere.

It is also true that none of the things that characterize our town show a growing population. However, I urge you to look closer at the statistics. Upon a closer review, I think you’ll discover that we are not currently shrinking, even if we are not growing. In the past, especially in the 1980s and 1990s, the situation was bleaker. I’m of the opinion, however, that those days are behind us (and I hope that you accept me using the term ‘us’ here). I see an era of stability ahead of us. We aren’t as big as we used to be, but we aren’t getting noticeably smaller. The question that faces us now is: What will we do with what we have today?

The strength of our communities lies in our relationships. That Washington reporter had no chance of seeing that, because they were too immersed in a big city way of living. People here truly care about each other and their entire community. That is a rare commodity in a larger city, in my experience. Given that we care about each other and given that I believe that all other strengths come from that communal foundation when Jesus Christ is our starting point, I think we have a strong future. We just need to stop buying into the rumor of our demise.

Rural Iowa is a beautiful place to live. I’m blessed to have been called to live here. I get to see more stars than I ever thought I could from my back deck. I wave to neighbors driving by because I know them. I’ve buried a few folks and I’ve married a few folks. I’ve asked questions and challenged my parishioners, and I’ve been blessed to learn a tremendous amount from them as well. I’ve met old farmers and I’ve met young farmers. I’ve seen our community rally around each other so often that most people here don’t even notice it when we do it. I’ve noticed. It used to surprise me. Now, I just notice. And I rejoice that there is a place on this earth where community exists. Those in larger cities may say they do the same as I describe here. Trust me, it is a dim comparison, at best.

I hope you don’t think that I don’t notice the problems we have around here as well. We aren’t perfect, and we do need to work on a variety of issues, of which I think affordable local housing is a top priority. However, I’m weary of hearing how we are dying. I’ve been looking around and I can’t find much evidence of death. Change, yes. But not death.