Hancock County
July 2nd, 2007
After a long stretch on 1-40 from Memphis, Clayton and I left the superhighway to climb up into the mountains of northeastern Tennessee. Hancock County spans several mountain ridges, winding roads climb steeply only to dive down into the next valley just when you thought you’d reached the top. In the widest valley, the Clinch River cuts a gentle blue swath through tobacco and hay fields. It’s known to be one of the cleanest rivers in the country.
Pastor Seven (a handsome wiry man in his 70’s who happened to be the seventh son out of eleven kids) told us with a smile, “you Californians think you’ve got life by the tail, but we’re already livin’ in heaven over here.” He meant this in more ways than one.
We’d come to Hancock County because the Glenmary Research Center reports that it is the county with the highest percentage of Southern Baptists in the entire United States.
To say that religion plays an important role here is a gross understatement. Around every bend is a small country church, each with a clean white steepled cross and simple names like Duck Creek, Snake Hollow, Elm Springs, Yellow Branch. More than 50 in all, in a county of 6700.
After talking to people it’s clear the data is a bit off: few churches actually belong to the Southern Baptist Convention, but rather are more conservative, independent Baptist churches. Most pastors we spoke to were openly critical of the looser ways of the Southern Baptist Convention. But the data did hold up on the ground in other ways: according to Glenmary, Hancock County also has the distinction of being the least religiously diverse county in the nation, and we found that Baptists are definitely the rule. Everyone we met had to think for a minute to come up with someone who didn’t share their faith. Two Jewish people live in the county, and one small Catholic church occupies a former beer store, fourteen folding metal chairs hinting at the size of the congregation.
Faith permeates the community. School days open with prayer. The only radio station is broadcast out of a church. And southern hospitality is still in full swing here – we were invited in for tea, for icecream, for late-night country gospel sessions on the church lawn. But most of all there was genuine concern about our life after death, and the certainty of an eternity in hell if we had not yet accepted Christ as our personal savior – The invitation to join them in their faith was the strongest invitation of all. I promised several people I would read the Book of John and get back to them.
