Almost Amish

by Nancy Sleeth

  Matthew and I view opening our home to others as a joyous responsibility and a central part of building community. My motivation, especially when I’m doing the dishes afterward, comes from the letter to the Hebrews: “Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it!” (Hebrews 13:2). I am also inspired by the example of the Amish.

  The Amish are productive, hardworking people, but they enjoy visiting. Hospitality is built into the regular rhythm and rituals of their lives. Church, as I have mentioned, does not happen in a separate building—it rotates among the members’ homes and always includes a meal for a hundred or so family and friends. Wedding receptions, likewise, occur not in a hotel or hired reception hall, but in the home. Adult baptism and the semiannual Communion, an eight-hour affair that includes foot washing and a shared meal, are ritual high points of the year—and (you guessed it!) all take place in someone’s home. Visiting, quilting bees, and “frolics,” where work and play are combined, all involve hospitality.

  Recently, Matthew and I attended a neighborhood corn bread supper. The tradition was begun years ago by our neighbors. Each Monday evening, they bake several varieties of corn bread and open their home to the neighborhood. Everyone brings a dish, with an emphasis on local and in-season foods.

  Newcomers learn the ropes pretty quickly: there’s one table for main dishes, one for drinks, one for desserts. A stack of paper squares and pencils is left on the table for people to put a place card by their dish, identifying any local ingredients and giving helpful information—“contains nuts,” “gluten-free,” “spicy!” Several groupings of chairs are arranged throughout the first floor and on the ample porch. In the kitchen, there is a bowl for leaving your used cloth napkins, a bowl for food scraps (so they can be composted later), and a space to stack dishes. When the stack gets high enough, someone will rinse plates and start the first load running in the dishwasher.

  I have met some incredibly generous neighbors at the corn bread suppers. One new friend, a retired human resources manager, offered to help with our growing nonprofit’s employee manual—and ended up writing it for us. Another young friend lets me French braid her hair—she loves the braided challah I make, and I love having a little girl’s waist-length brown locks to work with. I’ve met writers, urban farmers, pastors, university officials, and grad students—of every age and background. While the couple who host are not Amish, I certainly consider their weekly hospitality a beautiful example of the Almost Amish way of life.

  Have fun, locally

  What do the Amish do for fun? Or, as one friend asked me, do the Amish even know how to have fun? The Amish work hard, but they also enjoy breaks from the routine of work. Because they do not drive or consume most forms of digital distraction, recreation among the Amish focuses on local activities, often involving nature. Having farm chores that require them to stay close to home, Amish families are more tied to the local community. Swimming, camping, fishing, and hunting in summer and sledding, skating, and ice hockey in winter provide breaks from the work routine. Informal games such as volleyball, softball, and corner ball are favorites in many Amish communities. Camping in local forests and meadows is also popular in some districts.

  Barn raisings, work bees, and monthly gatherings when sisters, mothers, and aunts can produce or do other seasonal chores together are important social events that weave together work and leisure. In a similar way, group sings blend worship and pleasure in most Amish communities. Such activities within church districts incorporate fun activities into the larger social and spiritual framework.

  Almost without exception, Amish leisure does not involve recreational shopping, prepackaged entertainment, or other commercial pursuits. It connects people to one another and the outdoors. It is almost always community oriented, revolving around family and friends.

  In our modern world, downtime tends to separate people rather than bring us together. We engage more with our computers, TVs, and earphones than we do with our neighbors. While the Amish spend significantly less money on high-tech toys, they experience a richer form of fun. Making an effort to attend local festivals, picnicking in the parks, and engaging in informal socializing are simple ways we can build community while having a good time.

  Still need a few more ideas to get you going? You can

  • Play together. If you have young children, find a few neighbors who might want to get together on a regular basis to share child care and have some adult time while the kids play.

  • Turn your yard or an open space into a center of fun. Horseshoes, badminton, a tire or rope swing, and other old-fashioned games can be a magnet for pulling neighborhoods together.

  • Begin a book group. One great way to expand your mind and get to know your neighbors is through a monthly reading group. If you can’t find one, start one!

  • Invite neighbors for a meal. Breaking bread together is one of the best ways to break down barriers. To maximize enjoyment, let go of any expectations of a return invitation, and don’t be shy about allowing others to bring salad or dessert.

  • Walk the talk. It could be just two or three friends that meet at a regular time to get some fresh air while catching up on each other’s lives. I’ve found walks to be one of the best ways to have uninterrupted conversations with friends and neighbors.

  Most of all, be friendly. Knock on your neighbor’s door. Reach out. Don’t wait for the other person to make the first move. As the Amish like to say, “The most beautiful attire is a smile.”

  Let’s Sum It Up

  The Amish have avoided many of our social ills because they build community into their lives. People know and care about one another. They support one another’s businesses, worship together, take an active role in their children’s education, welcome neighbors into their homes, and engage in group activities to break up the routine of work. Because of this emphasis on community, virtually no members are homeless, unemployed, or living on government subsidies. Almost no Amish people are incarcerated, and rarely do Amish couples divorce.

  By submitting to a higher authority, they keep the focus on the Ultimate Authority. This submission to God makes getting seem less important and giving more rewarding. The happiness of the community contributes to the happiness of the individual, and vice versa.

  Here’s the good news: the power of community is not limited to those born Amish. It can start with you, in your neighborhood, beginning today.

  Chapter 9

  Families

  Family ties are lifelong; they change but never cease.

  A few years into our simplicity journey, a physician approached Clark at church and asked about his college plans. When Clark mentioned an Ivy League school, the doctor asked, “Why would you want to go there?” He went on to tell Clark about his alma mater, explaining that Clark could still meet his goal of becoming a physician but would have a much richer spiritual life if he attended a Christian college.

  On the way home from church, Clark—who rarely asks for anything—wanted to know if he could go see Asbury, the college the doctor had described. We made arrangements for Clark and Matthew to visit. They attended chapel, sat in on several outstanding classes, and met with students and professors. At the end of the weekend, sitting in the college parking lot, father and son prayed together. Both returned home knowing that Asbury was where Clark should be.

  Like many calls from God, at first their choice did not seem to make worldly sense. I adjusted quickly to the Christian college idea, but did it have to be in Kentucky? We didn’t know a soul there, and it was so far away—in the South! Besides, Clark already had scholarship offers from other schools. Our family had taken a big leap of faith when Matthew left his ER position. Was this another test from God?

  Despite my initial concerns, Clark matriculated at Asbury. God worked out the financial details via an academic award, and it quickly became clear that Clark’s prayers for spiritual growth and preparation for
calling were being answered—beyond our boldest prayers.

  During Clark’s freshman year at Asbury, Emma visited and felt called to go to college with her brother. Now, Emma does not always follow the typical path. For example, she wrote a book on creation care and had it published by a major Christian publisher while she was still in her midteens; and, instead of doing her senior year of high school in the usual way, she hoped to volunteer at an orphanage in Guatemala. (We nixed that idea because of her age, but she held onto the dream and later spent a semester serving in India.) God has accomplished much through her young life. So, after a lot of prayer, we gave her the green light to look into applying to Asbury a few months after her college visit. The hitch: she was only fifteen. Asbury said they would consider her application, but she needed to take her SATs first. She aced them. They invited her to their scholarship weekend. Asbury offers one entering freshman boy and one girl a four-year full ride.

  At the ripe old age of fifteen and a half, Emma not only was accepted to college but was awarded a free education. This seemed to be an answer to the how-to-pay-for-two-kids-in-college question, but Matthew said it was too early to break up the family. His solution: we would all relocate to Kentucky.

  At first, I resisted. I had an ideal teaching job, good friends, and a supportive church community. But it did not take long for Matthew to convince me that—after God—family comes first.

  We asked the kids how close to Asbury they wanted us to move. “Within walking distance of campus” was their answer. Parental hovering? Perhaps, but our children were both quite young when we made the decision—fifteen and seventeen—and still wanted us around. Besides, neither had their driver’s license yet. During the school year, they lived in the dorms, but a hug and a home-cooked meal were never more than ten minutes away.

  In God’s perfect plan, moving to the Bible Belt turned out to be the best thing we ever did for both our ministry and our marriage. After the first year, we had so many new friends supporting us and so many speaking requests that I left teaching to help launch our nonprofit, Blessed Earth. As a family, we discerned a clear, shared calling that blended our complementary gifts, all for his glory.

  After Emma’s graduation, Matthew and I discussed the possibility of moving back to New England. By this time, yet another of Clark’s prayers had been answered: for a God-centered relationship with a lifelong mate. We now had a new member of the family to consider, our daughter-in-law, Val.

  Because our house was so close to campus, I had the privilege of getting to know Clark’s college sweetheart for three years before they married. At Val’s request, on Thursday afternoons we cooked together, preparing some of Clark’s favorite recipes while swapping family stories. Val and Emma were in the same graduating class at Asbury and were already “sisters,” having served together in India their junior year. Val’s family lived just up the road in Lexington. Although our family had grown and changed, our commitment to each other was stronger than ever.

  So instead of moving back to New England, we moved to a town house in Lexington. Now adults, our children still (miraculously) enjoy being around us. Clark, twenty-three, married, and in his last year of medical school, lives five blocks from us. Emma, twenty-one, lives with her college roommate five blocks in the other direction. We get together on Friday evenings for family dinners, and Clark, Val, and Emma all stop by throughout the week for walks and talks.

  I can say without hesitation that Matthew and Clark have the closest and most respectful father-son relationship I have ever seen. A central part of that bond is their shared love of medicine. Clark often runs his patients by Matthew, and Matthew enjoys passing along the art of healing. While this could be done via e-mail or phone, it’s exponentially more rewarding for both to share these conversations sitting together in Matthew’s study.

  As fellow English majors, Emma and I share a love for Scrabble and the underappreciated semicolon. Emma is a fabulous writer and editor and now uses her abundant gifts to support our creation-care ministry. It brings me tremendous joy to have her working beside me—her passion, intelligence, and creativity are irreplaceable. Truly, I cannot imagine how I ever got by without her, and our shared vocation now adds another layer of depth to an already extraordinary relationship. Just as an Amish farmer might pass along wisdom and knowledge to the next generation, Matthew and I each share a professional bond with our children.

  Old-fashioned? You bet. There is much to be said for the Almost Amish blessing of proximity. What a gift not only to love your grown children but to truly like and admire them, and for them to like and admire you in return.

  Amish Traditions

  Unlike most modern Americans, the vast majority of Amish families have remained intact. By staying geographically close and continuing to observe centuries-old traditions, they have avoided many of the ills of modern society. Within Amish communities, the divorce rate is less than one percent, illegitimate births are nearly unheard of, and the suicide rate is about half the American average. Families take care of their disabled and elderly relatives, and men and women have clearly defined roles. Even where farming is no longer the primary source of income, families often work together in a home-based business.

  Because the Amish do not drive, everyone tends to keep close to home. This means families eat most meals together, children are not running off to after-school activities, and couples work in tandem. Amish independence from technology means that leisure time brings them closer, rather than driving them apart. Instead of being wired to digital entertainment, they spend downtime together.

  Not being dependent on cars or technology also has significant health benefits. Walking and physical activity are built into Amish lives. Tending horses, gardens, and woodpiles keeps family members together while keeping them healthy. According to a study at the University of Tennessee, only 4 percent of the Old Order Amish suffer from obesity, compared to 33 percent—a third—of the American mainstream population.

  Health and well-being are central to all aspects of Amish family life. When parents have differences, they discuss them in private. Couples do not air their disagreements in front of others. Children are expected to speak and act with respect toward elders, and adults model respectful behavior in and out of the home.

  The Amish transition from dependence (childhood), to independence (adolescence), to interdependence (adulthood) includes a period called rumspringa. In many Amish communities, rumspringa is a time when adolescents are allowed greater freedom. During rumspringa, many youth experiment with worldly behaviors, such as driving a car, wearing modern clothes, watching TV, and going to the movies. Teens are not under the authority of the church until they choose to be baptized, sometime after the age of eighteen. Following this brief fling with worldly activities, most Amish young adults return to the church. Because the decision is theirs, the period of rumspringa ultimately strengthens their lifelong commitment to family and faith.

  A common theme of these Amish traditions is harmony. Instead of family members working against one another, they work together. What is good for the family is considered good for the individual, and vice versa.

  Learning from the Good Examples

  When my husband was in residency, I read a local newspaper report on the rapidly rising caesarean section rates. Contrary to the trend, the C-section rate at my husband’s hospital was one of the lowest in the state.

  Here’s what I found intriguing, and disturbing, about the article: the reporters only conducted interviews at the hospitals with the highest C-section rates and never looked for the solutions at the hospitals with the lowest rates. Think about that for a moment: they looked for answers where things were going wrong instead of where things were still going right.

  The C-section rate was low at my husband’s hospital, not because of high-tech medicine but because of two old-fashioned principles: first, doctors were still skilled in the art of manually manipulating babies, so that breech presentations were rare. Second,
the hospital had resisted the trend toward nearly universal administration of epidurals, which can slow or even halt labor. When I was pregnant with Emma, I knew that the birthing process would be painful, but I also knew that I was unlikely to end up in the operating room, which seemed like a pretty good trade-off to me.

  In a similar way, perhaps we should begin to look for ways to build healthy families where things are still going right. According to the National Center for Health Statistics, more than 40 percent of births in America are to unwed mothers. Although it is commonly acknowledged that 50 percent of marriages end in divorce, what these stats do not take into account are the households where couples live together outside of marriage, blending and breaking up makeshift families seemingly at will. Surrounded by adult role models saying one thing and doing another, young people are losing faith in everything, including the church. Little wonder that, according to a recent Barna study, more than 40 percent of our young people leave the church between the ages of eighteen and thirty.

  Instead of helplessly sitting by and watching the stats continue to slide in the wrong direction, wouldn’t it make sense to identify what is working and look for solutions there?

  The Almost Amish Way: Family Ties Are Lifelong

  What are some of the factors that keep the Amish family together? Below are some Almost Amish actions you might want to incorporate in your life—simple steps “backward” that can help us reverse some family-destroying trends.

  Stay close geographically

  The big promise of many ads for telephone and Internet services is that we can “stay connected.” To some extent, this is true—Facebook, e-mail, texting, and smart phones can help us keep track of family and friends. Yet it is a Silicon Valley/Madison Avenue/Hollywood-propagated falsehood that digital communication can replace real-time, real-space interactions. A little emoticon can never duplicate a little child’s hug.