It is risky to make sweeping statements about
the
Amish way of life, for there are some eighteen hundred individual congregations and over forty subgroups of Amish, and they have no central organization or governing body. The practices of these subgroups and local congregations vary in many ways. For example, reading habits and the amount of daily interaction with non-Amish neighbors vary, as does use of technology. Some households have indoor plumbing, cut their grass with gasoline-powered lawnmowers, and fasten LED lights to their buggies for nighttime driving. Other congregations permit none of these things. Because we do not have space to examine these diverse details, we have focused on the most typical themes and practices.
Part I
Searching for Amish Spirituality
CHAPTER ONE
A Peculiar Way
...in the Bible we find that God’s people are to be peculiar.
H
ere’s an idea for a slow Saturday night: ask your friends to call out the first words they think of when you say the word
Amish
. You might exhaust the usual suspects fairly quickly—horses and buggies, bonnets and beards, barn raisings, quilts, and plain clothes.Your group might settle on some adjectives:
gentle, simple, peaceful
, and
forgiving
. Then again, you might come up with words that lean in another direction:
severe, harsh, judgmental
, and
unfriendly
. The range of adjectives probably reflects the variety in Amish life—in any kind of life, for that matter. More likely, however, the differences reflect your point of view and the features of Amish life that capture your gaze.
Although the Amish are sometimes called a simple people, their religious practices are often mystifying, and their way of life—like all ways of life—is quite complex. It’s no wonder outsiders hold conflicting views of the Amish, for the Amish are at once submissive and defiant, yielding and yet unmoved. To use a common Amish phrase, one we will explore more fully in later chapters, they are ready to “give up,” but they do not readily give in.
These apparent paradoxes make the Amish hard to understand. They also make them enormously fascinating, the subjects of countless books, films,Web sites, and tourist venues.
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In this chapter, we introduce some of the unique and distinctively religious elements of Amish society. We do this by offering nine vignettes illustrating aspects of Amish faith that rarely receive media attention but that nonetheless go to the heart of the Amish way. Together these stories demonstrate how the spirituality of Amish people leads them to do very intriguing—and what some would call very
peculiar
—things.
A Homespun Scholar
A few years ago we visited one of our Amish friends in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, an older man who has since passed away. Abner was a bookbinder by trade, repairing the old or tattered books that people brought to him. He was also an amateur historian who founded a local Amish library. A warm and engaging person, Abner had many “English” (non-Amish) friends stopping by to visit.
One summer evening, sitting on lawn chairs, we talked about our families. “So where do your brothers and sisters live?” he asked, and we ran down the list: one lives near San Francisco, another in New Hampshire, and still another in northern Indiana. “Come with me,” Abner said, and he led us around his house and into his backyard. His simple house backed up to the edge of a ridge, giving him an expansive view of farmland to the north. “Let me show you where my family lives,” he said, pointing across the landscape. “My one sister lives there, and another right over there. And you see that road? I have five more relatives living along there.” And with a sweep of his hand Abner showed us the homes of his fellow church members as well. “This is one of the things I like about being Amish,” he said, and we stood quietly for a moment as we surveyed the fields and homes of his kin.
Abner didn’t have to say more to make his message clear: the choices we had made as scholars, and the choices our siblings had made as professionals, had pulled our families apart, geographically and in other ways as well. Abner was a scholar too, of course, and we often asked him questions about Amish history. But his way of being a scholar didn’t require moving across the country to pursue a Ph.D. In fact, pursuing that sort of life is forbidden for the Amish, who end their formal education at eighth grade.* Thus, for Abner, becoming a historian meant reading books in his spare time and asking lots of questions.
Abner clearly enjoyed talking with non-Amish people. Could it be that he lived vicariously through his educated non-Amish friends? Perhaps his backyard commentary that evening was a way of reminding himself, as well as us, that Amish life had its advantages. Still, if there was a message from that evening, it was this: our way of living, just like Abner’s, comes at a cost.
Unwilling Warriors
In late 1953, two Amish men entered a federal courtroom in Des Moines, Iowa. Both in their early twenties, Melvin Chupp and Emanuel Miller showed up “wearing the beards and unbarbered hair traditional in their sect,” according to the local newspaper.
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A few hours later, they left with three-year prison terms for refusing to serve in the U.S. military.
*The Amish believe that eight grades of formal education, supplemented by vocational training, are sufficient to live a productive life. In 1972 the U.S. Supreme Court in
Wisconsin
v.
Yoder
permitted Amish people to end formal schooling at fourteen years of age. Appendix I provides more detail on Amish life and practice.
Melvin and Emanuel, like all members of their faith, viewed war as wrong and participation in it sinful. Although the federal government allowed war objectors to do alternate service outside the military, knowledge of this alternative apparently had not trickled down to the draft board in Buchanan County, Iowa. Rather than granting the two Amish men conscientious objector status, the draft board required them to do noncombatant service in the military. When Melvin and Emanuel refused that, the board ordered them into combat units. Once again they refused, which quickly led to their arrest.
At the trial, Melvin acted as his own attorney. His only statement came during closing arguments. He might have appealed to principles in the U.S. Constitution, but instead he focused on his Christian convictions. “Jesus never killed His enemies. He let his enemies kill Him,” Melvin said. “Therefore, I’m here to
give myself up
to the jury.” The judge who sentenced them to prison was not sympathetic. His only regret, he said, was that the two Amish men “found it impossible to accept noncombatant service.” Melvin and Emanuel’s decision to place faith above patriotism cost them three years of their lives.
A Church-First Businesswoman
Sadie is an enterprising businesswoman. In the early 1980s she started a dry goods store. Under her management, the business grew rapidly, adding new divisions and product lines and eventually selling everything from bulk foods to hardware. Sadie opened stores in several other locations, and altogether spawned eight retail businesses, including a shoe store and two grocery stores. Aware of her success, Sadie is nonetheless quick to deflect credit. “I think some people are just born with it,” she told us. “I have this love of selling.”
At first glance, her business model seems to track a Fortune 500 company: start a small business, expand into larger markets, reinvest the profits, and expand some more. But Sadie’s story didn’t follow that model. As an Amish businessperson, she faced restrictions. Her church frowns on members accumulating wealth or making “a big name for themselves.” As one Amish person explained, “Bigness ruins everything.”
So as Sadie’s business grew, she sold off some of her product lines and stores to her employees, keeping her own holdings small. Sadie’s plan spread the wealth and multiplied the number of owners within the Amish community.
Her decision to shrink her business did not come easily. She knew that she would earn less this way, and money was a concern for her family. In fact, she had first gone into business because she had special-needs children with significant medical costs. In the end, however, she concluded that the perils of growing her business and risking church censure were greater than the risks of downsizing.
A Reluctant Minister
Reuben is a thirty-two-year-old stonemason and father of three. He is also one of two ministers in his local congregation of about thirty families, but he never applied for the job or went to seminary. During a recent visit he explained how he had been selected by God to serve as a minister for the rest of his life.
As they hitched up their buggies and drove their families to church on the day of the ordination, Reuben and the other men in his congregation keenly felt the burden of knowing that they might be selected. Reuben explained that a man would never seek such a position and women are not eligible. Instead, by drawing lots, a method used by Jesus’ disciples to fill a vacancy in their ranks (Acts 1:12-26), the Amish believe that God miraculously selects ministers for them.
a
We’ll look more closely at this process in Chapter Four, but one of the most peculiar aspects to outsiders is that neither the nominees for the position nor the chosen one have the option to decline. When it suddenly became clear that he was selected, Reuben remembers having “a feeling of being between complete surrender and stepping out on the ice and not being sure how thick it was.” The bishop immediately ordained Reuben for his new, lifelong position, and the entire process was over in less than ninety minutes.
During those minutes, the lives of Reuben and his family were changed forever. Reuben felt a heavy burden to help lead the congregation, and his family felt a new expectation to live exemplary Amish lives. Without the benefit of pay or formal training, and without the option to say no, Reuben soon began preaching sermons, counseling members, and helping resolve disputes—all in addition to his regular work as a mason. Rather than a time of celebration, an ordination is a somber, weighty occasion. “It’s no ‘Hurray!’ type of thing,” said a friend of Reuben’s, a man who has been in the lot three times but never selected. “You would serve to the best of your ability if called, but you are also very grateful to take your usual seat again if another person is chosen.”
A Self-Taught Artist
Susie Riehl, a Pennsylvania artist whose work can sell for more than $3,000, has never taken an art class. This Amish mother of five who paints watercolors featuring quilts, gardens, buggies, and barns is finding ways to live within the constraints of her church while pursuing her artistic passions.
Although various types of folk art have long been accepted, the Amish church frowns on members showcasing their paintings at art shows, fearing it will lead to pride on the part of the artist. The church considers photographs and drawings of human faces taboo, a violation of the Second Commandment’s prohibition of idols known as graven images (Exodus 20:4).
Susie honors the church’s wishes by not appearing at public exhibitions of her artwork and by not drawing human faces. When children or even dolls appear in her work, they are faceless. “I don’t want people to think I’ve lost my humility,” she told a
USA Today
reporter. “I’m just working with a God-given talent and enjoying myself.”
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A Would-Be Violinist
One of our friends, Nancy Fisher Outley, describes her Amish childhood as a happy time, especially the trips to town with her mother as she sold vegetables door-to-door. “I remember thoroughly enjoying those excursions, listening to my mother discuss an array of issues with her customers and friends,” she says. Nancy felt “an overwhelming heaviness,” however, when she entered the eighth grade, the end of formal schooling for Amish children.