Almost Amish

by Nancy Sleeth

  So when Jonah takes the first ship headed in the opposite direction, God conjures up a storm; the crew, finally believing that Jonah is the cause of all the fuss, throws him overboard. A great fish swallows Jonah, then spits him up on dry land. This time, Jonah follows God’s orders, and the impossible happens: the people of Nineveh listen to Jonah, repent, and reform.

  The second story involves Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles. Paul is on his way to Rome. The ship runs into some problems along the way, and Paul warns they’d better hole up for the winter. The crew does not listen. If they have to interrupt their journey, they’d rather vacation in a spiffier harbor. A huge storm hits. Paul prays, and God assures Paul that no one will perish. The ship falls apart, but—as God had promised—everyone makes it safely to shore.

  In the third story, Jesus is crossing a lake with his friends. He’s been working hard, and the motion of the water lulls him to sleep. A storm rises. The disciples get scared. They wake up Jesus, and he tells them not to fear. Jesus calms the storm, and they cross safely to the other side.

  What do these three storm stories tell us? The story of Jonah reminds us that when confronted with a task far outside our comfort zones, our first reaction is to bolt. God, however, will always nudge us back, even if he has to send a whale-sized reminder.

  The story of Paul reminds us that we often think we know better than God. When we try to follow our way rather than Yahweh’s, bad things happen. God is the ultimate safety net.

  The story of Jesus crossing the lake is a reminder that God is always beside us. If God can calm nature by simply saying “Be still,” he can surely calm the fear and anxiety within our hearts.

  The take-home message of all three shipwrecks: God is the only truly safe harbor.

  The Almost Amish Way: Turn to God First for Security

  How can the scripturally based, Amish attitude toward security be applied to our twenty-first-century lives? It’s an ongoing journey, taken one step at a time. Here are a few ideas that may be of help along the way:

  Get to know your neighbors

  When we first moved to Kentucky, Matthew was traveling quite a bit. I immediately started teaching at a college two blocks from home and had met most of our neighbors, but Matthew barely unpacked and washed his clothes before he was back on the road again. He began to feel like a friendless nomad.

  So I took some initiative. I invited colleagues and their spouses over for dinner. We began hosting weekly potlucks in the neighborhood. I kept animal crackers in the cupboard for the two-year-old next door, and she and her parents came over to give Matthew encouragement and hugs when he was home. Matthew was asked to guest teach a class at the local seminary, and one of the doctoral students took Matthew under his wing. Before we knew it, we had some of the deepest Christian friendships we had ever experienced.

  These interactions with new neighbors quickly reminded me that it is as important to receive as to give. The first day we moved in, I asked my next-door neighbors if they had a ladder we could borrow. They invited us to dinner. We gladly accepted. Another neighbor offered us a step stool, and a third brought over lawn chairs so we would have someplace to sit in the evenings until our furniture arrived.

  In later months, we were able to reciprocate with offers of child care, the lending of tools, and garden produce. When the neighbor who lent us a ladder had gall bladder problems in the middle of the night, she did not hesitate to call me to stay with their daughter. And when she continued to experience health problems throughout her second pregnancy, I was glad that they felt comfortable enough to leave their child in our care.

  The Amish tend to live in the same community, generation after generation. There is great security in knowing not only the parents of your children’s friends but their grandparents, uncles, and aunts. All of us go through hard times, and it is comforting to know that neighbors will be there to help.

  In contrast, Americans move an average of 11.7 times in their lifetimes. Moves are difficult; they require finding new employment, new schools, new homes, and new plumbers. Most important, they require finding new church families and support networks.

  Some moves are unavoidable, of course. If you have a choice, consider staying put. And if you must move, invest immediately in the community. Even if you end up moving again, your relationships with God and neighbors will be richer.

  Create an attractive family life

  An attractive family life is one that makes other people, including your kids, want to hang out in your home. Your home becomes a haven to others and a slice of heaven for you.

  Both Emma and Clark live in the same neighborhood we do and come over several times a week. They like hanging out with us. So do their friends. This does not happen by accident.

  Part of the attraction is physical. Our town house is not large, but it is clean, uncluttered, and comfortable. People often tell us that they feel more relaxed the moment they step inside—so relaxed that many visitors have napped on our living room couches. Our home is a calming space.

  Mostly, though, the attraction is relational. Matthew in particular was very conscious about raising our children to be people we’d want to spend time with as adults, and vice versa. We will always be their parents, but now we are also their companions.

  One tradition that all of us make a priority is our Friday night family dinners. The kids invite friends, and together we celebrate the end of the week. Everyone is in the mood to kick back and relax. We’ve played board games, watched movies, gone bowling (in my case, two-handed gutter balls)—but mostly we eat, laugh, and talk. About half the time, we are celebrating someone’s special occasion—a birthday, anniversary, or completion of a difficult semester. Always, we give thanks to God for the blessing of having family and friends who share both our struggles and our joys.

  For the Amish, family meals and celebrations are the norm. Close proximity allows for easy and frequent interactions, and these in turn add richness to life. Having good times to balance out the bad contributes to a sense that family and friends will always be there for you, and you for them.

  Weave tradition back into your life

  The Amish are the Tevyes of tradition, à la Fiddler on the Roof. If it worked for their great grandfathers, they’re in no rush to change. A simple example: the Amish traditional dress eliminates the need to keep up with changing fashions. Imagine how much less angst there would be if teens didn’t have to worry about their tennis shoes being two minutes out of style! Yes, the Amish give up face piercings and tattoos, but these look dated and unattractive a decade later, anyway. Matthew says that nearly all his patients beyond the age of forty regretted their tattoos, but often could not afford the laser surgery to have them removed. Placing your security in God, not in the whims of collective cool, never goes out of fashion.

  Below are ways you can deal tradition back into your life:

  Food—Make ice cream “Sundays” your special Sunday night dessert or cook initial pancakes (pancakes formed in the shape of the eater’s initials) for Dad’s Saturday morning breakfast. When I was growing up, on Friday night my mother served challah, a Jewish braided egg bread, lit candles to welcome the Sabbath bride, and said the blessing over the grape juice (which, believe me, is far tastier than kosher wine). But it doesn’t have to be that elaborate either. Matthew grew up with home-raised chicken on Sundays. Many families have a regular pizza and movie night. Make your own edible traditions—comfort food in the truest sense.

  Family night—In another interesting example of the “last shall be first” principle, surveys published by Child Trends Data Bank consistently show that the higher the income and education level, the less likely it is that a family will sit down to a meal together. Overall, a third of American families eat three or fewer meals together per week. In redefining what it means to be rich, perhaps the Amish example of sharing meals should be at the top of the list. At the very least, aim for one evening where everyone sits down together, and no one eats an
d runs. Although there may be resistance at first, the assurance that you will all reconvene one evening a week adds to everyone’s sense of belonging and security.

  Routine—Not all traditions have to center on food! Having a regular time to wake up, do chores, pray, work, and go to bed also builds in security. We know that children need consistency in order to feel safe and grow into healthy adults. Adults need routine too. If every day is a free-for-all, just-trying-to-get-by, survival-mode existence, then the bottom is always threatening to drop out. The Amish understand that, as children of God, we need routine to make breaking from the ordinary extraordinary. For instance, although barn raising involves long hours of hard work, it is different from the usual chores. Having a routine to break from makes such events particularly special.

  Prayer—Not every family needs to pray in the same way, but every family needs to pray in some way. Pray alone, pray with your children, pray with a friend, pray with your spouse. Pray at work, pray at home, pray in the car, pray while you wait for the computer to reboot. The Bible tells us to pray ceaselessly. In the worst of times, we do; in the best of times, we often forget. The Amish recognize that the habit of prayer builds gratitude, humility, and security into our lives so that when the bad stuff happens, we know Whom to call first.

  Don’t expect institutions to solve all your problems

  In the late seventies, I went to school in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, the heart of Amish country. Matthew and I were dating long distance. He lived two hours away, near my parents.

  On the radio one day, I started hearing reports about possible leakage from a nearby nuclear power plant. I called Matthew and told him that no one seemed in the least bit concerned. Students were sunbathing, joking about soaking in the radiation, and the officials on the news shows claimed that the public was in no danger. Nonetheless, I felt uneasy. So did Matthew. Because I didn’t have a car, Matthew drove the two hours and brought me back home to my parents’ house.

  For the first few days, I felt guilty about missing school. By the end of the week, however, the college canceled classes, the government evacuated young children and pregnant women, and the utilities admitted to dumping radioactive material into the waterways.

  The Amish do not rely on government or institutions to tell them what to do. They consult their elders, as the Bible tells us to do. Though Matthew is only four years my senior, he had considerably more real-world experience. When my parents concurred, I followed their collective advice. Without their input, I probably would have stayed on campus until the government or school officials evacuated us. After all, school was my job. I never missed classes.

  The Amish accept almost no government assistance. We don’t have to go that far, but—on the other extreme—neither should we wait for institutions to solve all our problems. Use common sense. Tap into your God-given wisdom. Exercise the free will that God gave to each of us. When you get anxious, turn to the ultimate Protector. He will lead you to still waters and help you take right action.

  When life gets messy, turn to God FIRST

  This should be the easiest principle to put into action, but for many of us, it’s the hardest. No matter what you call the cause of our separation from God—“the Fall,” or “evil,” or “Satan”—it’s real and it’s deadly. When stuff goes wrong, our knee-jerk reaction is to blame anyone but ourselves. We don’t want to take responsibility, and we want someone else to bail us out.

  The Amish understand that God is the answer to all life’s problems. To help us, he left an instruction manual—the Bible. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the prophets, the apostles—they all turned to God when life got difficult. Even Jesus, in the Garden of Gethsemane, called out to God in his time of anguish.

  The Amish, more than almost any other Christian denomination, consciously model their daily lives on the example of Jesus. They were practicing the “what would Jesus do” way of life centuries before it became popular. When Jesus was down, he turned to his Father—not self-help books, not web-med, not digital drugs. Nothing we can smoke, drink, or watch on TV will make our tribulations disappear permanently. No matter what the problem, God is the answer. Amish peace comes when we know this Truth not only in our minds but have inscribed it on the fleshy tablets of our hearts.

  Let’s Sum It Up

  Half a century ago, Martin Luther King Jr. gave a sermon entitled “Paul’s Letter to American Christians.” In it, King warns that moral advances are not keeping abreast with our technological advances: “Through your scientific genius you have made of the world a neighborhood, but through your moral and spiritual genius you have failed to make of it a brotherhood.”

  We are all brothers and sisters in Christ. As the family of God, we must reach out to protect and care for others, even when it is inconvenient or costly. The most obvious opportunities for extending friendship, hospitality, and security are to those who live close by, and yet many of us spend far more hours in the portals of our virtual neighborhoods than on the porches of our neighbors. Less time in front of the computer screen means more time to spend on the town green.

  The Amish build stability, routine, and tradition into their lives, all centered on God. We, too, can build a firm foundation based on an all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving God. Family and friends, acting as the hands and feet of God, can provide comfort along the way. Yet it is God—first, last, and always—who is the Truth, the Light, and the Way.

  What does this look like in twenty-first-century terms? We can start by embracing the following:

  • Encouraging routine. Too many decisions (at any age) can undermine security and become overwhelming. As countercultural as it may sound, boring is sometimes better.

  • Staying put. If you have a choice, don’t move. The security that comes from knowing neighbors, geography, and place can be worth far more than a pay raise.

  • Taking responsibility. Sometimes when we’re tempted to think of ourselves as victims, we actually need to blame less—and thank more.

  • Setting boundaries. Margins of safety will increase your family’s confidence and sense of belonging.

  • Modeling stability. In marriage, parenting, and friendship, be the person that others can count on. The faster the world changes, the more the world needs you to be still and know/show that God is God.

  Seeking security from money, power, and institutions may help in the short term, but ultimately we will end up disappointed. Amish peace is built upon the sure knowledge that the only true and lasting security comes from God.

  Chapter 8

  Community

  Knowing neighbors and supporting local businesses build community.

  I’ve often heard it said, “When the end of the world comes, head for Kentucky because it’s always twenty years behind the times.” Although this quip is not intended as a compliment, I have found that being behind the times can indeed have its advantages.

  For five years, we lived in Wilmore, Kentucky, home of Asbury University and Asbury Seminary. Living two blocks from the center of town, I could walk everywhere—to work, the post office, the gym, the hair cutter, and the bank. Mr. Sims, the pharmacist, was the original owner of our house; Sims Drugs still bears his name and looks exactly as it did in the fifties, I’m told—complete with wooden dispensary and a lunch counter that serves heart-stopping milk shakes. Mai—owner of a downtown restaurant—piled our takeout into Tupperware that I brought over because she knows I prefer not to use throwaway containers. And then there is Fitch’s IGA, the family-owned grocery store.

  Mr. Fitch and his family have run the town grocery for fifty-five years. Like Sims Drugs, it has not changed much in those five decades. On multiple occasions, Matthew and I have witnessed the owner giving food to people in the checkout line who could not afford to pay, something that just does not happen in the typical chain grocery store.

  Unfortunately, competition from supercenters up the road took its toll. Fitch’s lost money for ten years. The store was teeterin
g on closure when a group of neighbors got involved. Last Fourth of July, they picked up their pens to sign a “Declaration of Independence from Big Box Stores.” Fitch’s Neighbors, a grassroots volunteer group, pledged to purchase at least three meals a week from their local grocer.

  That’s not all. An Asbury Seminary student—inspired by his faith—organized an extreme grocery store makeover. Neighbors rolled up their sleeves on various projects, from scrubbing every inch of the store to completely repainting the exterior and a hundred small refurbishing touches in between. Together they logged more than six hundred people-hours to revitalize Fitch’s. For the first time in a decade, the store is profitable again. Mr. Fitch says he never saw anything like it.

  Neither have most of us, largely because family-owned stores are no longer the norm. Yet the example of Fitch’s Neighbors gives me great hope, a reminder that we don’t have to be born into an Amish community to enjoy an Almost Amish life.

  Local Is Better

  Local economies thrive in Amish communities because the Amish support small, family-owned businesses. Although they are known for their frugality, friendship is valued more than lowest price. Because they do not drive, they depend on a robust local economy. It’s in everyone’s best interest for neighbors to support neighbors.

  Unfortunately, such support and loyalty are dwindling in much of America. Soon after a supercenter moves in, the small-town grocery, hardware store, and pharmacy close. Consumers opt for so-called “bargains,” which end up costing more than they could imagine: the life and livelihood of their town. The town begins to erode from the inside out.

  Downtown gives way to box stores, and box stores mean many of us practically live in the car. No wonder we have become an exhausted nation, driving the equivalent of five cross-country trips per year and getting nowhere. In many communities, neighbors no longer borrow a cup of flour because no one stays home. Even if someone were at home, who has time to bake bread? And how can we “break bread together” and share a meal if all our friends are busy on Facebook?