Almost Amish

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Almost Amish Page 9

by Nancy Sleeth


  Consolidated schools, where many smaller schools are closed and a new “bigger and better” one is built, have become the norm in rural communities. Not so for the Amish. They have resisted this trend, arguing that spending an hour or more on a bus each day and navigating centralized bureaucracies is not in their children’s best interests. A local school, where students of different ages learn to interact and teachers know the families, can provide a healthier learning environment. Most important, the Amish emphasize other kinds of education as well, including learning that goes on outside the classroom.

  This learning takes place in the context of the community. When neighbors know neighbors, they can share skills, knowledge, and resources. The Amish love to visit, and they welcome opportunities to help one another. Knowing every family in the community makes life less complicated and overwhelming. When problems arise, they know who can help.

  The church community succeeds for related reasons. You have never heard of an Amish megachurch, and you never will. The typical Amish faith community consists of thirty to forty families. Once a community gets much bigger, members will no longer know one another by name or understand how best to serve others. Rules of life are determined face-to-face by the church district, intentionally kept within the geographic proximity of horse-and-buggy transportation.

  By keeping things small, the Amish have avoided some of the potential pitfalls of big farming (bankruptcy), big business (layoffs), big schools (anxiety), big cities (alienation), and big churches (isolation). In the upside-down world of Christ, less is more, the last shall come first, and the meek shall inherit the earth.

  The Almost Amish Way

  One way we can simplify life is to keep it small and local. By supporting small businesses, farms, schools, neighborhoods, and faith communities, we build local relationships while simplifying our lives. Below are some practical ways to discover that good things do, indeed, come in small packages.

  Support local farms

  A few years back, Matthew served as the visiting scholar at a college in upstate New York. Like many Christian colleges, it was built “at the end of the road” in a very rural community. This particular community includes some Amish farms as well as non-Amish (“English”) ones. Throughout the surrounding countryside, we could not help but notice that most of the farms with power lines running to them are in decline: rusted tractors up on blocks, barns with roofs caving in, and “for sale” signs planted in the fields. In contrast, the farms with no power lines running to the farmhouse—the Amish farms—are neat, clean, and thriving.

  Why are these Amish farms alive and well long after the family farm has been declared dead? Staying small and local is their winning formula. Supporting small, local farms can be your winning formula too: you eat healthier, your community stays prettier, and you make God smile.

  How so? Let’s start with health, the first bonus. That old adage, you are what you eat, is truer than ever. We live in a sea of chemicals. Many of these chemicals are hard to avoid—in the particulate matter we breathe, in the neighbor’s dandelion-free grass our kids and pets play in, and in the newly carpeted classroom at school. We can, however, choose which foods to purchase and feed to our families.

  I was married to Matthew throughout his decade of premed, medical school, and residency training. I am now going through the process a second time with our son and his friends. As you can imagine, the talk at the dinner table often turns to medical topics. Most of these discussions are far too technical for me to fully understand, but over the years I’ve picked up a few gems about lifestyle medicine, things all of us can do to improve our health.

  Here’s one simple piece of advice I’ve gleaned: If you cannot pronounce it, don’t eat it.

  Look at the list of ingredients in the snacks in your cupboard and microwavable meals in the freezer. Many of the names are so long even I, an English teacher, cannot pronounce them. For the most part, these foreign-sounding chemicals are not good for our health.

  The average piece of food travels fifteen hundred miles to reach our plates. With a little extra effort, I can find food produced within fifty miles of my home—jams, maple syrup, honey, apple cider, cheese, beef, chicken, eggs, flour, rolls, bread, and a huge range of in-season fruits and vegetables. When I look at the labels on these items, the ingredients are simple and familiar. Local almost always means fewer chemicals and preservatives, which results in better nutrition for my family. It also means that fruits and vegetables do not have to be genetically modified to survive long-distance shipping.

  The second bonus of family farms is lovely scenery—a place for the eye to rest. The area where Matthew and I grew up was one of the largest dairy producers in the United States. Now, there is only one dairy farm left in the entire county. The field behind my childhood home where I picked wildflower bouquets and chased fireflies is planted with tract houses. When Matthew and I went back to visit his old stomping grounds, it was like a scene out of a movie: a sign with a stone facade announcing “Woodfield Estates” and big bulldozers tearing down a barn. Ironically, of course, both the woods and the fields referred to on the sign are being destroyed.

  For many suburban and urban kids, seasonal visits to a pumpkin patch, corn maze, apple orchard, or strawberry field are the only agricultural experiences they may ever have. These small farms are worth protecting. They are worth supporting. Without them our children would lose any understanding of where their food comes from. It’s much harder to see the sustaining hand of God in the cereal aisle than in waves of wheat undulating in the breeze.

  Which leads me to the final and most important bonus of supporting local farms. It makes God happy. How do I know? Because from Genesis to Revelation, the Bible is filled with praise for God’s creation, delight in the beauty of creation, and the mandate for us to be good stewards of the garden—this earth.

  The Amish understand that

  • God loves creation. (“It is good,” Genesis 1.)

  • He owns creation. (“The earth is the LORD’s,” Psalm 24.)

  • He entrusts its care to us. (To tend and protect the garden, Genesis 2:15)

  By loving what God loves, respecting what he owns, and obeying what he commands, we please God.

  Supporting the local farmers’ market, buying from vegetable stands, visiting the local orchard, and shopping for local foods in the grocery aisles are simple ways we can please our Father.

  Support local businesses

  Once while traveling to a speaking engagement in Tennessee, Matthew and I stopped at a gas station/fast food chain/rest stop. Walking in front of us were a traditionally dressed Mennonite woman and her daughter. They looked refreshingly out of place.

  For the most part, however, I rarely spot traditional Mennonite or Amish folks in chain stores. The reason is that they believe in supporting neighbors who run local businesses rather than giving their money to impersonal corporations.

  For a long time, I resisted shopping locally. Can one person really make a difference? It’s easier to get everything in one store. I don’t have time. It costs too much—I could use that money to support a starving child in Africa. I had all the excuses, but the truth is that’s all they were—excuses for not doing what my conscience or the Holy Spirit or my Jewish guilt told me was right. The reality was that with minimal sacrifice, I could afford to shop ethically and support a starving child in Africa.

  When Matthew and I were first married thirty years ago, he made a concerted effort to purchase items made only in the United States or other countries that supported fair labor practices. Long before buying local became hip, Matthew went out of his way to support local businesses. Even though we had little money, it was worth a few more cents to avoid buying products made under harsh working conditions. Instead of national chains with merger mentalities, he wanted to support the personal service and local relationships that keep Main Street in business.

  Over the last three decades, thousands of small businesses have di
ed because there have not been enough Matthews. But I am hopeful yet. God does not demand that we be successful; he asks us to be faithful, even (especially!) when the prospects do not look bright.

  Does that mean that I never buy from chain stores? Of course not. But I try to support businesses that are in easy walking or biking distance from my home. The barber, laundry, bakery, hardware store, and restaurants we frequent are family owned. And while the local grocery and bank may be part of a bigger chain, at least we know the cashiers and the bank manager by name. They are our neighbors.

  Don’t allow school to run your life

  As I typed this heading, I realized that “run” is just one letter off from “ruin,” and that extra letter is “I.” Seems silly, but it reminds me of a serious truth about how easily we can ruin something by inserting ourselves. Often the “I” in school performance is about the parents more than the children. Very early on, we parents rush in to complete the science fair experiment or get overly involved in our child’s math homework, allowing the school calendar, school projects, and school priorities to control our lives. While parental hovering may seem harmless in elementary school, it can set a pattern with lifelong consequences.

  Amish communities usually run their own schools, and they keep them small. In general, when given the choice, our family has chosen smaller schools over larger ones. Our children mostly attended smallish schools and colleges, with some home schooling in the middle-school years. While many people do not have a choice about school size, we do have a choice about how big of a role academic pressures will play in our children’s lives.

  Unless challenged, patterns tend to repeat themselves. Some of these patterns are good: I grew up in a family that expected academic excellence, and I’m glad that Matthew and I encouraged our children to be curious, lifelong learners. I’m also happy that they showed respect for their teachers by excelling in class. Most of all, we are grateful that our children are using this learning to serve the Kingdom. But the pursuit of academic excellence also can have a dark side, in which a one-size-fits-all philosophy can fail to take God’s variety into account. Ideally, learning and achievement of all kinds should be valued.

  A few years back, Matthew was invited to a Bruderhof community in the Catskill Mountains. Like the Amish and Mennonite, the Bruderhof are a branch of the Anabaptists. Families in this community each live in a small apartment, but meals are prepared and eaten communally and money is shared in common, much like the first-century church.

  The community supports itself in large part by manufacturing and selling products that assist physically and mentally challenged children. During his visit, Matthew helped in the factory and began talking with the young man working beside him. The young man explained that he was good with his hands but had never been academically inclined. He felt thankful that in his community he did not feel pressured to go to college. On the other hand, if someone felt called, for instance, to serve the community as a physician, the elders would give their support and even pay the tuition. In the end, this amiable young man felt he had as much value as someone with an advanced degree. His prestige was not based on years of education, but rather on his contributions to the community and service to God.

  While I am not advocating that we all join the Bruderhof, we can gain much from their example. I have spent most of my working life as an educator; I love teaching and I value learning. Yet when students ask for advice about higher education, I encourage them to listen to God first. If they feel called to a life that requires a degree, they should go for it. But they should not bury themselves in student debt and fritter away years of their lives just because that’s what everyone else is doing. Grades and résumé buffing can all too easily become the goal, rather than lifelong learning for the glorification of God.

  In seeking that balance, I like to remember the motto carved on the entrance of Asbury University, the school where I last taught: “Academic excellence and spiritual vitality.” Remembering that the second part is at least as important as the first, and embodying both, can keep academics from claiming too large a place in our lives.

  Know your neighbors

  What does neighborliness have to do with simplicity? A lot! If you know your neighbors, you know their needs. And they know yours. You can help one another out. You have a support system. You don’t have to go it alone.

  I’ll give you a few examples. One of Clark’s medical school friends moved a few blocks from us. Before moving in, Joel and his wife wanted to paint the house and do a few repairs. Instead of buying drop cloths, ladders, and tools, they borrowed ours. Knowing their neighbors allowed them to save time, money, and hassle.

  Close-knit neighborhoods also allow for skill swapping. I have a friend who is a master gardener. I have pruned apple and pear trees, but I did not know how to prune stone-fruit trees, such as cherry, plum, and peach. My friend offered to show me, teaching me how to hollow out the middle section of the tree, to effect a wine goblet shape. In exchange, I’ve helped out with child care when she and her husband are in a pinch—a “favor” that gives me great pleasure, especially since her son reminds me so much of Clark when he was little.

  Sometimes it’s the network of neighbors that counts. We have a friend who is finishing his dissertation and needed a temporary housing situation for a few weeks within walking distance of the local seminary. Our old home would have been perfect, but we had moved. So we called a former neighbor. They have a basement apartment, which they generously offered to our friend. Simple solution. Problem solved.

  The Amish are known for their neighborliness. They love to visit, and they welcome opportunities to help one another. But there’s another, deeper reason. This network of support also helps simplify their lives. When you know you can count on your neighbors, life does not seem so overwhelming. Problems that seem insurmountable alone are easily resolved when neighbors act neighborly.

  Build a small faith community

  For the last five years, Matthew and I have traveled to churches throughout the country giving talks on faith and the environment. One of the things we have come to appreciate is the many ways that people worship God. We have seen God at work in congregations of ten to ten thousand, in home churches and megachurches, in converted barns and soaring stone cathedrals. We have heard people speak in tongues and we have sat with those who worship without speaking at all. We have seen pastors preach in full vestments and in Hawaiian shirts, with their congregations singing traditional hymns set to contemporary music and contemporary lyrics set to traditional tunes.

  God built diversity into nature to give it resilience. Diversity in the church also gives it strength. It is beautiful to see the many ways Christians worship God, just as it is beautiful to see that, though we are not all born to live the Amish life, we can all find simple ways to praise him. In our travels, we have come to appreciate one common denominator: no matter how big or small a church is, it needs to act out its faith through relationships. These relationships work best in smaller settings. Small groups go by many names: home group, faith group, discipleship group, fellowship group, affinity group, covenant group, missional group, Bible study group, new life community, and so on. No matter what they are called, they serve similar purposes, providing a setting for fellowship, accountability, and service. Only when we know one another can we help one another grow in Christ.

  In our son’s church every time the congregation reaches more than 120 individuals, they split off. Their focus is on Christian fellowship—living life together. They share meals, share tools, share child care, and share lives. Everyone knows each other by name. Keeping the church community small—in fact, about the same size as the typical Amish church district—creates a strong sense of belonging and a concern for one another’s welfare. Life seems less complicated when you live among a group of people who share your love for Christ and are ready, willing, and able to act in his stead.

  Let’s Sum It Up

  If the Amish made bumpe
r stickers for their buggies, the bestseller might read, “Be not conformed to this world” (Romans 12:2, KJV). The world believes bigger is better, yet recent history has revealed the high cost of our megasized world. Big farms fail. Bank mergers collapse. Big schools become just another form of big business. In our anonymous communities, we don’t know the neighbor down the street or the person sitting beside us at church. Now we are slowly relearning what the Amish have always known: that infinite growth is not only impossible but in many instances undesirable. Focusing on an infinite God, not infinite growth, frees us from so much striving and allows us to lead simpler, less burdened lives.

  In a similar way, the teachings of Christ turn the world upside down. Those with the most possessions in this life may end up with the least in the next, and the little guy shall inherit the earth. The believing beggar Lazarus is in heaven, while the man who relied only on his riches is in the hot seat.

  Each of us needs to be challenged by the example of Jesus made flesh and then needs to keep doing a little better every year. It’s that simple, and that hard. Thinking big by supporting small. Loving globally by purchasing locally. Losing our lives in order to gain them.

  Supporting small farms and businesses, restoring learning and achievement to its proper place, interacting with our neighbors, and fellowshiping within a small faith community are daily reminders of how we can start bringing heaven here on earth—leading simpler, saner lives with people we know and love, in our local communities, this very day.

  Chapter 6

  Service

  Service to others reduces loneliness and isolation.

  Back when I was teaching at Asbury University, I shared an office with another English professor. Brian became a friend of the family, so when he invited us to go to church with him, we gladly accepted.

 

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