Faith in the Soil: The Biblical Agrarian Movement, Part 2
If you stand on a ridge in the Appalachian Highlands and look down into the valleys, you won’t see what you see in the Midwest. There are no thousand-acre, perfectly flat squares of genetically modified corn stretching to the horizon. Instead, you see a patchwork of steep pastures, tight hollers, twisting creeks, and dense timber.
It is an incredibly tough country for a combine tractor to operate in. Yet, the same challenging terrain that fends off large machines also invites a different worldview—one deeply rooted in faith.
In Part 1 of this series, we explored “Christian Agrarianism”—the belief that the land belongs to God, and farmers are called to be gentle stewards rather than industrial extractors. But there is a very specific reason this ancient, faith-based approach to agriculture isn’t just surviving in the Appalachian Highlands; it is thriving here.
The mountains themselves demand it.
The Land That Resists the Machine
Modern, industrial agriculture—often called “Big Ag”—depends on having a blank, uniform canvas. It requires massive, million-dollar machines, synthetic fertilizers, and chemical sprayers, all designed to operate best on endless, flat land to achieve high-speed, high-yield efficiency. This approach seeks uniformity and predictability at every turn, in direct contrast to Appalachian farming.
Interestingly, ancient scripture addresses this exact contrast. In the biblical world, Egypt was clearly the ultimate example of the “Big Ag” of its time. It was flat, predictable, and watered by the heavily engineered irrigation of the Nile River, and while they didn’t have heavy machinery, they had an endless supply of labor.
Photo by Zeevveez via Wikimedia Commons
When the Israelites were led to their new home, their agricultural experience changed fundamentally. Deuteronomy 11 describes the Promised Land as a “land of mountains and valleys that drinks rain from heaven”—a rugged, unpredictable place that demanded active stewardship and faith, not just mechanical efficiency. This contrasts sharply with the engineered reliability found in Egypt.
Similar to that ancient land, Appalachia inherently rejects uniformity. Its rocky, uneven topography naturally resists industrial-scale, monoculture farming. In the Appalachian Highlands, unlike the Midwest, you simply cannot run massive, mechanized operations on steep mountainsides.
The Cultural DNA of the Highlands
But it isn’t just the dirt that makes our region the epicenter of this agricultural revival; it is the people.
Appalachia has always been defined by a unique cultural DNA: a fierce independence interwoven with deep-rooted Christian faith. Historically, this region was home to subsistence farmers. Our great-grandparents didn’t farm for export or shareholders. They farmed to fill the root cellar, to feed the family, and to make sure the widow down the road had enough to get through the winter.
For the modern Appalachian farmer, adopting the “slow food” or “local food” movement isn’t about chasing a fad. It is a homecoming—actively reclaiming ancestors’ ways, endorsed by their Bibles.
The Voices of the Revival
This region has actually produced the most famous voices of the Christian Agrarian movement. Just north of us in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley, Joel Salatin operates Polyface Farm. Salatin, arguably the most famous regenerative farmer in the world, openly bases his farming model on honoring the Creator’s design—respecting the “pigness of the pig” and the “chickenness of the chicken” by allowing them to live on pasture as God intended, rather than in crowded, indoor cages.
Over in rural Kentucky, Wendell Berry—the philosophical godfather of this movement—has spent decades writing about the sanctity of the topsoil. He famously argues that caring for God’s creation isn’t a political issue; it is a profound spiritual duty. Eating locally and farming gently, Berry suggests, are acts of worship.
These men didn’t invent a new way to farm. They simply gave a theological vocabulary to what mountain folks have known in their bones for generations.
The Appalachian Highlands are a sanctuary for biblical farming because the land keeps people humble, and its history keeps them grounded. We are learning that the best way to feed the future is to look to the past, put our hands in the dirt, and trust the original blueprint.
As mentioned earlier, this movement has been championed for decades by farmers and writers who have dedicated their lives to exploring the sacred connection between our faith and our soil. Below, we have included videos from two of the most influential voices in the Christian Agrarian movement: Kentucky farmer-poet Wendell Berry and Virginia’s own Joel Salatin.
Dig Deeper: Essential Reading
If the perspectives in this article—and the videos above—have sparked a desire to look at our regional landscape a little differently, here are two foundational books by these men to continue your journey:
Speaking of how animals are uniquely designed to live, join us next time for Part 3 of “Faith in the Soil,” where we will dive into the barns and pastures to explore what ancient biblical animal welfare laws look like in the 21st century.
