Over the next few years, tensions persisted, and in 1865 the ministers met again in Wayne County. Before the meeting, however, thirty-four tradition-minded leaders from Holmes County drew up a manifesto staking out their position against such things as carnivals, fancy clothing, commercial insurance, unnecessary household furnishings, and “the singing of catchy, popular hymns with spiritually shallow lyrics.”50 The majority of the more moderate ministers largely ignored their concerns, and the conservatives withdrew, formalizing the two paths that mid-nineteenth-century Amish interaction with the wider world ultimately produced. The Amish-Mennonite majority took a variety of paths toward the American mainstream, whereas the minority Old Order Amish clung to a more conservative understanding of the Ordnung.
The Amish divided several more times in the first half of the twentieth century over such issues as farm technologies, telephones, and cars. The actions of the young people and relations with excommunicated individuals also entered into these heated debates. In these years, several high-profile conflicts with the U.S government also occurred. For example, many Amish were harassed as “German sympathizers” during World War I for their refusal to join the army and buy war bonds. Federal officials pressured Rudy Yoder, a local Amish man, to report to Camp Jefferson, Missouri, and then threatened him with death if he refused to begin rifle training.51
During the 1940s and 1950s, serious conflicts over schools emerged when Wayne County officials tried to enforce the Bing Act mandating public school attendance until age sixteen. The subsequent arrests and trials in Wooster contributed to an Amish skepticism of Wayne County administrators that continues to this day. Other conflicts arose when local Amish men served in hospitals or in other forms of alternative (I-W) service during and after World War II. Holmes County native Aden A. Miller was even featured in a New York Times article when he was sent to a federal work camp prison for three years because he refused I-W employment.52 And the shocking murder in 1957 of an Old Order man, Paul Coblentz, by two recently released convicts led to a formal plea to the governor for a stay of execution and to letters of forgiveness sent to the cell of one of the men convicted of the murder53—an Amish response strikingly similar to that seen after the 2006 Nickel Mines school shooting in Pennsylvania.54
In spite of these conflicts with the outside world, most Amish found respite from their troubles on their farms. The soil and climate of the Holmes County Settlement proved to be very conducive to Amish farming techniques and to supporting large families. Indeed, the growth in the Amish population in the settlement over the past three decades should put to rest once and for all the misperception that the Amish are on the verge of extinction. Population studies estimate the doubling time for the Holmes County Settlement to be a mere 22.5 years.55 From 1981 to 2005, for example, the number of church members increased from 6,751 to 12,537, while the total population (including children) increased from 13,994 to 26,722.56 The growth to 221 church districts in 2009 is also remarkable, considering that there were only 9 church districts in the Holmes County Settlement in 1913.
These rates for the Holmes County Settlement far exceed the population growth rates for most countries in the world and, insofar as they mirror trends in Amish communities across the nation, support the claim that the Amish are one of the fastest-growing groups in the United States. As of December 2008, there were 410 Amish settlements in twenty-eight states and Ontario, more than half of which had been founded since 1990. In 2008 alone, 16 new settlements were founded, an average of one every twenty-three days.57
The Amish Flavor of Holmes County
Today the Amish account for approximately 45 percent of Holmes County’s population and lend a distinctive flavor to life in this region of northeastern Ohio. Consider, for example, that out of the eighty-eight counties in the state of Ohio, Holmes County is among the seven lowest in per capita income;58 the western portion of Holmes County is even designated as an “Appalachian” district, qualifying the county for federal and state assistance. Yet many of the other demographic and economic indicators that typically cluster with low per capita incomes are absent. In 2007 Holmes County had the third-lowest unemployment rate (4.1%) of all Ohio counties.59 The crime rate was among the lowest in the state as well. Moreover, in 2005 Holmes County had the highest rate of exports to imports of all Ohio counties, testimony to the hundreds of wholesale woodworking shops run by Amish entrepreneurs. At the same time, it led the state in the number of licensed dairy farms and the number of acres planted in oats.60
Ohio’s “Amish country” has also become a popular tourist destination, an important reminder of how outside perceptions of the Amish have markedly changed since the mid-1900s. One local historian remembers that in the 1950s and 1960s the Amish were considered unpatriotic, backward, and obstructionist. “I remember well when the Amish weren’t popular. If you wanted to insult someone, you’d call him a ‘dumb Amishman,’ and that was the worst.” Today, such sentiments are rarely heard. Tourists are especially inclined to see the Amish in positive terms, either as a saving remnant of bygone days or, more pragmatically, as a source of high-quality wood products, quaint crafts, or savory food. The director of the Holmes County Chamber of Commerce and Tourism Bureau put it this way: “Our number one industry is manufacturing. Number two is tourism. And number three is agriculture. Tourists wouldn’t come here if it weren’t for the beautiful agricultural scene: the shocks of wheat and corn and the pastoral, rolling hills with the laundry out on the lines. And if we didn’t have the tourism, we wouldn’t have all that furniture manufacturing going on. So those three cannot exist without each other.” There is no question that Holmes County officials and the non-Amish business community highly value the Amish presence as vital to the area’s economic base.
Despite their growing numbers, the Amish presence throughout the settlement is uneven. The large majority of Amish church districts, private schools, successful Amish businesses, and tourist destinations are in the eastern part of the settlement, represented by a crescent of towns stretching from Kidron, Mount Eaton, and Mount Hope in the north to Berlin, Walnut Creek, and Sugarcreek in the south. The western portion of the settlement is far more sparsely populated with Amish, as the map of Amish schoolhouses in Holmes County shows (see chapter 5). Route 83 from Wooster to Millersburg and south is an unofficial dividing line separating the mostly Amish and mostly non-Amish sides of the county. The roots of this division go back to the tendency of families of German descent to settle in the eastern areas.
Amish affiliations are also unevenly distributed across the settlement. Ironically, the majority of the more conservative Swartzentruber and Andy Weaver districts tend to be located in Wayne County, toward the northern end of the settlement, closer to the thoroughly “English” towns of Orrville and Wooster. The New Order and most Old Order districts cluster in the central and southern parts of the settlement, from Mount Hope south to Berlin and beyond. To some extent, these residential patterns shape the frequency of interaction between Amish affiliations and between the Amish and the non-Amish.
From the time of its incorporation, Holmes County itself has always been a relatively conservative and homogeneous community, with most inhabitants originally coming from Germany, Switzerland, England, Scotland, and Ireland. Census figures show that in 2000 the composition of the county was 98.8 percent white, making it one of the most racially homogeneous counties in the United States.61 Holmes County is also known for its political conservatism. In a state where George Bush edged John Kerry by a 53–47 percent margin in the 2004 presidential election, the returns in Holmes County showed 75.5 percent supporting Bush and 24 percent voting for Kerry. Although most Amish do not vote unless a local issue affects them directly, the overwhelming majority sympathize with positions held by the Republican Party’s older conservative wing, which, as one Amish bishop put it, believes that “a true conservative is a person who conserves what is good.” An Old Order Amish man, now deceased, used to joke that he could c
ount the Amish who supported Democrats on one hand.
Each year millions of tourists visit Amish-themed shopping destinations in Berlin, Walnut Creek, and Sugarcreek, Ohio. Tourist establishments are rarely owned by the Amish. Photograph courtesy of Charles Hurst.
In terms of the broader religious context, most of the mainline Christian churches are represented in the Holmes County Settlement, but so too are more assimilated Anabaptist churches such as the Brethren, the Beachy Amish, and various Mennonite congregations. Together, these Anabaptist churches make up a large group of non-Amish people who have Amish roots or share enough theological similarities that they are sympathetic to Amish concerns. The Brethren, represented in the area by several distinctive offshoots of the German Baptist Brethren, for the most part have become too political, evangelical, and nonpacifist for Amish tastes.62 The Beachy Amish, however, are literally “one step up” from the most liberal Amish group, the New Order Christian Fellowship. Sometimes called the Beachy Amish Mennonite Fellowship, they originated in Pennsylvania in the 1920s. In addition to driving cars, most Beachy Amish install electricity in their homes, use computers and phones, and dress less plainly than Old Order and New Order groups. Yet in spite of their name, the Beachy Amish are not considered Amish by most people in the Holmes County Settlement, primarily because they allow ownership of cars (though dark-colored ones only).63
Still, many Amish feel an affinity with these other Anabaptist groups born of shared history and theology. This is especially true of the large Mennonite population in the Holmes County Settlement, most of whom have parents or grandparents who are or were Amish. Some former Amish are deeply critical of the Amish lifestyle, but when taken together, members of other Anabaptist churches can be seen as part of a sizable “Amish cocoon,” to use a phrase coined by Robert Kidder and John Hostetler.64 These persons sympathetic with Amish life partially insulate the Amish from outside pressures, provide legal, medical, and other assistance when necessary, and are one of the definite attractions of the Holmes County Settlement to many Amish families.
The presence of more evangelical churches is a final feature of the local religious context. Most of these churches are small, but a few actively seek converts among the Amish population by having their members volunteer as drivers when the Amish want to use a motor vehicle rather than a horse and buggy for errands, visiting, or trips. It is tempting to lump the Amish in with such “fundamentalist” churches because of their shared belief in a literal interpretation of the Bible and in divinely ordained gender roles, including the restriction of women’s roles in the ministry and hierarchy of the church.65 However, with some exceptions, the Amish are uncomfortable with overt proselytizing, with individual interpretations of the Bible, and with the more charismatic and emotional aspects of fundamentalism. And they do not actively channel their religion into politics. The Amish are also far more likely to restrict the use of technology than are evangelical fundamentalists, who may drive nice cars, live in stately houses, and use television, radio, and the Internet.
At first glance, the Holmes County Settlement appears to represent a homogeneous Amish population nestled in a relatively insular and conservative region. Consistent with this view, tourists visiting Berlin, Walnut Creek, and surrounding areas are offered a return to a supposedly authentic premodern world in which Amish behavior is traditional, communal, and unreflective. Upon closer inspection, however, the Amish in the Holmes County Settlement could stand as the poster children for “plain diversity.” Moreover, their lives are filled not with uncritical thought but with complex choices and trade-offs that are integral to the attempt to maintain a viable sectarian community in the midst of postindustrial American society. In the following two chapters, we explore Amish dynamism and diversity in the key institution that regulates modernity—the church.
CHAPTER 2
The Origins of Religious Diversity
Why do churches split? Seldom for the reasons stated.
—A New Order businessman
The Anabaptist Escalator among the Holmes County Amish
Out of the two major waves of Amish immigration to the United States in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, at least nineteen Anabaptist groups have sprung up.1 Roughly half have formed the relatively progressive Mennonite or Beachy churches, but the remainder still classify themselves as Amish. This multiplicity of Amish identities is the result of disagreements about “where to draw the boundary between the church and the outside world and how to define nonconformity.”2 While each affiliation considers itself to be true to Anabaptist ideals, each has defined those ideals in different ways. In Holmes County, the result is widely differing cultural and religious practices within a single settlement. The reality of church schism stands in sharp contrast to the outside perception of the Amish as a unified people and has raised serious questions about the meaning and limits of community even within Amish circles.
As we survey this landscape of fracture in the Holmes County Settlement, several questions emerge. What factors lie at the root of these splits? Disagreements over theology? Acceptable use of new technologies? Personality conflicts among religious leaders? What are the breaking-off points and the corresponding talismans of identity that are seen as nonnegotiable by different groups? And what are the consequences of these schisms for the interaction between Amish groups?
For all the talk about the dangers of pride in the Amish community, the groups that have resulted from these schisms share many features of status groups. As noted earlier, the Amish themselves use the terms low and high to classify churches and affiliations in terms of their degree of worldliness. In general, the lower, or more conservative, churches observe stricter discipline, separation from the world, and social avoidance, whereas the higher, or more progressive, churches have made more compromises with technology and emphasize a more personal and reflective religious experience. Value judgments are deeply embedded in the use of these terms as well. The more conservative churches see themselves as humble adherents to the religious core and criticize what they see as “drift” in the higher-church communities. By contrast, the more liberal churches often chide the lower churches for what they perceive as devotion to “man-made traditions” rather than “true spirituality.”3 However, the notion of a single continuum—running from conservative to progressive—along which every Amish affiliation can be conveniently placed somewhat oversimplifies the realities of Amish life. For example, the New Order affiliation is technologically progressive but morally and doctrinally conservative.
Two aspects of the broader context bear mentioning before we look at the specifics of the schisms. First, the defining dynamic in the Holmes County Settlement is the “sandwich effect” created by the existence of sizable and viable Amish affiliations at both ends of the spectrum. Nearly 50 conservative districts and 25 liberal districts stand as bookends for the roughly 140 church districts that comprise the main body of the Old Order. The presence of large numbers of Swartzentruber and Andy Weaver Amish, on the one hand, and New Order and New New Order Amish, on the other, represent the opposite ends of what Donald Kraybill has called the “Anabaptist escalator” and serve as constant reminders to the main body of Old Order Amish that they have both conservative and progressive choices. In total, eleven separate affiliations represent the Amish in the Holmes County Settlement, but several of these groups have only one or two church districts. Table 2.1 shows the relative size of the Holmes County Amish affiliations, running from the most conservative to the most liberal.
Second, church schism has been a recurrent feature of religious life in the Holmes County Settlement ever since the early 1900s, as shown in figure 2.1. The cultural gap between the Amish and the non-Amish in rural Ohio was fairly narrow in the early part of the twentieth century. As the speed of change in the wider society began to increase, Amish church districts found themselves confronting a bewildering array of decisions about everything from appropriate farm technology to the activities of the
young people to the conditions under which excommunication would be lifted. Most of the resulting controversies involved such a thorny mixture of technology, doctrine, and personalities that they taxed the resilience of Amish mechanisms for informal conflict resolution.
Table 2.1. Amish church districts by affiliation, Holmes County Settlement, 2009
It is not easy to become familiar with the details of these church schisms, because the Amish are reluctant to talk with outsiders about “church matters” and because the names of the protagonists can be as confusing as the stories are complicated. As a result, these internal distinctions are usually glossed over by the non-Amish. They are embedded in the Amish experience, however, and if we are to determine the very human causes and consequences of church divisions, there can be no substitute for a case-by-case approach. This chapter therefore provides an overview of the origins and growth of the four largest affiliations, those shown in figure 2.1. (For a more detailed schematic of church schism in the Holmes County Settlement, see appendix C). We conclude the chapter by asking why certain issues sometimes lead to disciplinary action against church members and create schisms among church districts.
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