Pretty Orchards 8/16/2026

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

Nine.

Within a roughly eight-mile radius of my home, there are nine churches.

There is a smattering of mostly Baptist congregations of differing varieties, a Methodist or two, and a few others of the less regularly seen denominations. For the deepest corners of the Bible Belt, this isn’t remotely abnormal. For the better part of my area, unless you have hit abject wilderness where there is not much more than thick underbrush, pine trees, and red clay, very frequent churches are the standard. Driving a half mile or so and finding a new steepled building is not out of the ordinary for these parts.

And for those of us who wholeheartedly embrace the faith associated with the crosses that decorate these buildings, that would seem to be positive. And in a way, it is.

However, the Bible Belt has a prevalent quality that, well, I daresay most of its residents either don’t realize they have or are not willing to talk about.

Yes. I do realize how that last statement sounded.

I wrestled for quite some time about whether or not to write this. You know the struggle with saying something that you feel like needs to be said and yet you know that once those words are put out into the atmosphere, there will be repercussions. That is where I am with this right now. If you’re seeing this, though, then I clearly decided to carry on and hope to not end up being too offensive.

But then again, I know firsthand—as one who has been offended by it on occasion—that the truth can be offensive. While offense is rarely pleasant, I’d rather be offended by the truth than coddled by lies.

If you live in the American South, you are, for the vast majority, born into a world that is very aware of the foundational ideas of Christianity. Most everyone knows at least a Bible verse or two, or has at least heard them. Prayer is not something that is scoffed at like it might be in some less conservative parts of the nation. Most of the citizenry is happy to have crosses and Jesus and all the associated ideas.

As I mentioned earlier, you can’t swing a cat without hitting a church. And no, I am not entirely certain of the origin of that metaphor, but let’s not look too hard, shall we?

All the signs of a Jesus-loving people are everywhere around here.

The problem is, because we have gotten so used to all these signs, I think—no, I know—a portion of the population is completely content with just the signs and not much more.

It’s like what appears to be a fine-looking old apple tree out in an orchard. It has all the aesthetics. It has the classic emerald leaves. It even has a lovely apple-picking basket sitting beneath it. Maybe there is even a little stool with a knife for peeling under it. Add a grandpa in overalls, and you’d have a lovely Norman Rockwell painting depicting a delicious autumn.

That’s what a lot of the Bible Belt looks like. It looks like a beautiful setting for picking and eating apples, and everyone loves that it looks so quaint and cozy.

And it is just that.

But there is that one thing.

There are no apples.

Everything looks like apples. The feelings the setting invokes are authentic, but the fruit isn’t there.

Obviously, there is a big portion of people in the South that are true and legitimate Christians. Those communities, those churches—there you can go and eat fruit to your fill.

But there are those lovely little set scenes that I see so often. This person is saying all the Jesus things and knows all the Jesus stuff. But they only know because it’s all around them, and they only say it because it’s just how Southern people talk. The luxury of being surrounded by Christianity has allowed people to just enjoy the scenery and never really get into the heart of the matter.

Knowing about Jesus isn’t knowing Him.

Knowing about the Bible isn’t embracing the powerful message of Scripture.

It’s as simple as knowing about someone. Having seen them around, knowing what they look like, and being able to pick them out in a crowd doesn’t mean you have a relationship with them.

And I think a lot of people around here are just at that point with their comfortable Christian ambience. But that’s as far as it goes.

Christianity isn’t a soft little spot to get comfy and enjoy yourself. Jesus asks for us to be in relationship with Him. If I just know about a man, even if I know a lot about him, that doesn’t make him my husband.

A charming orchard is something beautiful, and I will not negate that. But if the apples aren’t there, it may as well be just art on a wall.

My neck of the woods has all the looks just right. It looks like a place where you could get a lovely pie or make a delicious jam. But a good-looking orchard doesn’t cut the mustard without fruit.

And honestly, if we’re just looking like we know Him without truly knowing Him, we’ve missed the whole purpose. We’ve deceived ourselves and others.

I pray that all those good-looking orchards begin to produce their greatest fruit. I pray that all those orchards that are truly producing will do so to a new level of abundance. I pray that all these crops even surpass the most glorious of appearances.

Because without fruit, a photograph of an orchard will suffice.

But you will never get to taste and see that He is good.