When Clarence Jordan and his wife Florence founded Koinonia Farm 66 years ago, the United States was a much different place. World War II may have brought us the “greatest generation,” but when these stoic men returned from battle, their silence did not serve them well in dealing with the persistent inequalities in the culture. It was an era when newspapers listed jobs under the headings of “Help Wanted - Men” and “Help Wanted - Women.” It was also a time when it was illegal for blacks and whites to marry in many states, and segregated schools were the law of the land in the South.
Against that backdrop, Jordan decided that his contribution to changing the moral and ethical landscape of the South lay in creating an example of what life could be like if people truly followed the precepts of Jesus. Never one for marches or protests, Jordan built Koinonia Farm as a place where blacks and whites continue to live together as equals, a beacon of social justice in the heart of the segregated South. Of course, that also made it a magnet for the worst instincts of those who felt threatened that their world was changing.
The farm came under siege so often in this era that the farm’s insurer had canceled their fire policy. The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., sent Clarence a letter with suggestions on where to find a company willing to take the risk. The letter also said:
You and the Koinonia Community have been in my prayers continually for the last several months. The injustices and indignities that you are now confronting certainly leave you in trying moments. I hope, however, that you will gain consolation from the fact that in your struggle for freedom and a true Christian community you have cosmic companionship. God grant that this tragic midnight of man’s inhumanity to man will soon pass and the bright daybreak of freedom and brotherhood will come into being.” - - Martin Luther King, Jr.
Well-meaning experiments in agrarian communal living often founder on the rocks of human frailty - ego, insecurity and greed. George Ripley and his band of transcendentalists founded Brook Farm in Massachusetts. “Scarlet Letter” author Nathaniel Hawthorne and transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson were part of the movement. According to current entries in the Wikipedia, the farm radically empowered women, but the experiment withered away after a fire in 1846.
At their peak in the era just before the Civil War,The Shakers boasted 19 “intentional communities” or communes. This Protestant offshoot from the Quakers took root in the late 1800s, and they had 6,000 members by 1840. However, their strict adherence to celibacy meant their long-term survival relied exclusively on conversion and adoption, and their numbers have dwindled down to four remaining adherents in today’s new millennium. All that remains are some antiques and the Shaker furniture designs, which are kept alive by today’s Amish artisans.
Among the hundreds of utopian communities in the 1800s were the Amana colonies in Iowa, the Oneida community in New York and the Rappites, also known as the Harmony Society, in Pennsylvania. More than 30 years ago, my colleague Paul Courter at Michigan Farmer magazine discovered that a farmer he was interviewing for a story on raising sheep had grown up on Brook Farm. (I continue to kick myself for not trying to capture the man’s memories before he died.)
At Michigan Farmer in the mid-Seventies, I ventured “up north” to Evart, Michigan, to do a story on how farmers were facing new problems with coyotes. On my way home, I saw a sign for Sunshine Commune and couldn’t resist making an unannounced visit. A happy band of hippies greeted me warmly and told me about their utopian vision, built on growing organic vegetables and homegrown pot to nourish themselves and on candlemaking as their concession to commerce. They cooked together. They ate together. They sang together. They worked the garden together. And they raised their cheerful children together. (And I had run out of film shooting the coyotes so I cannot show you any of this.)
Unfortunately, the Sunshine experiment, like many before them, barely lasted one generation. (I remember one young man proudly showed me the deed to the farm, which listed all of their names, including Suzy Creamcheese. I have always wondered how long it took to untangle that legal knot later.)
So how has Koinonia succeeded in surviving all these years, while most others have failed? Perhaps it was simply the synergy of the individuals involved. Or maybe it had something to do with timing. They had their act together by the time the second wave of communes erupted during the late 60s and early 70s. But maybe it was also the purity of their commitment to serving others. Millard and Linda Fuller of Koinonia launched the initiative to build homes for the poor that evolved into Habitat for Humanity, founded in 1976.
According to the Koinonia history published when the farm won the Community of Christ International Peace Award, the real threat to Koinonia’s continued existence occurred in the mid-90s, when the farm changed its mission to providing local jobs, delegating the decision-making to a paid director. In 2005, Koinonia Partners re-dedicated itself to its spiritual mission and returned to communal decision-making.
Jerry Nelson, author of the article on the farm on our companion website Sustainable Farmer, has his own ideas about why Koinonia survives. “I believe there are three qualities that must be present for a Christian Intentional Community to survive,” he says. “These are: Practical Skills, A Common Vision and The Grace of God.”
Perhaps it is also no accident that the most visionary and utopian experiments take place on sustainable farms. The romantic ideal of agrarian life continues to inspire a passion for progressive social change. In 1787, Thomas Jefferson told George Washington, “Agriculture… is our wisest pursuit, because it will in the end contribute most to real wealth, good morals and happiness.” In that spirit, Koinonia remains a real place where real people live, but it also provides a dream of what could be.