Fred Sneesby - Observations on Culture, Faith and Politics

I Want to be Amish

October 13, 2006

I didn’t see the bling in that Pennsylvania community. I didn’t see anyone talking on cell phones as they clip-clopped along in their carriages. I didn’t see any tee shirts with provocative colors or shocking messages. I didn’t see any navels or body piercings or plumbers’ crack tattoos. Everyone seemed to be focused on the events at hand; no one had I-pods stuck into their ears or hand-held Gameboys that occupied their attention. We all caught a glimpse into a different world.

As if the pain of the violent death of their children was not bad enough, the Amish had to endure the secondary pain of intrusion. Into their world, removed by design from the rest of us, came the rest of us. It must be torture for them. For us, though, it is a tonic, an oasis, if you will, in the middle of a questionable civilization. It’s as if we were hacking our way through a hostile jungle and suddenly came upon a clearing where we could rest.

Since most of my knowledge about the Amish is bounded by my recollection of that great film, “Witness,” I had to do a little research to learn more. Christians, off-shoots of the Mennonites, the Amish came to America from Switzerland in the 1700 and 1800’s to avoid religious persecution in Europe. Intent on preserving their beliefs, culture, language, and customs, they keep interaction with the larger society to a minimum. With a prescribed and distinctive dress, they avoid much of what we accept as normal; they do not use automobiles, television, electricity, commercial chemicals, or gasoline. They do not go to school beyond the eighth grade. They promote the family and the community and not the individual. They are non-violent. While fierce about maintaining their way of life, they are not interested in converting anyone else to it.

They remind me of the Shaker enclaves that flourished for a time in the Northeast, utopian communities whose everyday lives were driven by their religious beliefs. Unlike the Amish, they were open to converts. The Shakers died out, though, because they made the mistake of insisting on celibacy for all members, not a good public policy for continuity.

The Amish also remind me of the Muslims. Alongside the newspaper articles about the Amish massacre was an article about hard-line Muslim groups dictating traditional garb, avoidance of music and alcohol or anything Western for that matter, and the enforcement of rigid gender roles. Unlike the Amish, however, some Muslim sects are very much interested in converting non-Muslims and imposing their way of life on non-believers even if it involves violence.

Can we collect all these groups under the heading, “religious fanatics?” Possibly. For the average American, this level of religious devotion that makes so many demands on people’s lifestyle and so radically challenges the mainstream culture certainly smacks of fanaticism. Reflecting on these sorts of groups – something I intend to do now and then in future columns – can be both fascinating and instructive. Their ways of life bear lessons about the interplay between faith and everyday life, belief and government, and religion and culture that would be valuable to learn.

Can we find among us a religious faith so deeply ingrained that youngsters will put themselves in front of others to be slaughtered? Can we find that sort of reflexive self-sacrifice anywhere? Do we often see the level of humility and mercy that would compel parents whose daughters were just killed to go to offer forgiveness to the murderer’s family? Is it everyday compassion that invites the murderer’s family to the Amish funerals and that allows funds be set up not only to assist the families of the victims but the killer’s family as well?

These things are uncommon indeed. But there they were for us to see in this peculiar group, the Amish. For these things, I wish I could be Amish.

Values that are often preached about but rarely lived were evident in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania. Goodness is more powerful than evil; “do not be conquered by evil but conquer evil with good,” says the apostle. Forgiveness bears greater fruit than vengeance. Self-sacrifice is the cornerstone of the good life. Your eternal destiny is the end and goal that determines the many choices you make in life.

Ultimately, that is the bottom line. If the goal of your life is to be with God eternally, then your life and your death will be considerably different from having wealth, prestige, comfort, power, or fame as your goals. “Being in the world but not of the world,” and, “setting your hearts on the things above,” are central to the Amish way of life. Even though we have buttons and cars and electricity, they can be central to ours as well.