Living and Believing

As I make my way north to visit my family in southeast Pennsylvania, I go cross country rather than the more hectic Interstate 95. This route is enticing for a number of reasons. Driving along Route 10 North, there are the quaint farms, small towns, and the Amish countryside. It is not uncommon to make way for a simple black buggy with its single horse trotting along.

Last week as the cruel news of the violence in a country school house broke on the media, my attention and thoughts went to that normally quiet countryside. The tragedy of the children’s deaths and the suicide of the gunman just didn’t match with the way of life, which I had often seen from my childhood until now.

As I tried to put all that together, suddenly the media descended with its reporters and their satellite trucks. The world was invited to know of the tragedy of this usually quiet part of the Pennsylvania countryside. My thoughts immediately jumped to how our brusque hunger for details would be met by the Amish community, which usually keeps to itself and shuns even conversation and photographs of themselves. I had learned in my childhood, as we went for our Sunday rides, about these religious, simple, and hardworking people. Like other outsiders, my family could only peer into this unique way of living.

A Different Story
I must say that the media was uniquely less pushy for details and the inside scoop. It seems that the Amish community brought out the best in the media with its covering of the very sad story. The community stood within itself with its tragedy, with its faith, and within its traditional way of life. Enough was said by how these believers responded. There were some comments by their leaders. Their neighbors spoke well of them. Photographs were at a distance and life went on.

Unlike most stories of tragedies and violence, we didn’t hear about “needing closure” or about “justice being done”. Clearly, this community spoke about forgiveness and gave forgiveness freely. The forgiveness was as simple as the

procession of buggies to the cemetery and the bare grave without fake grass or flowers. It was also quietly reported by neighbors that the Amish leadership had visited the home of the gunman’s family and that his funeral was attended by some of the Amish themselves.

Simple Gift
The reaction among us who looked in was as surprising as the quiet forgiveness offered. I thought it was like the Quaker hymn tune about “It’s a gift to be simple...” On first singing, the tune and the lyrics are not only simple, but perhaps, a bit trite and unrealistic. The gospel, indeed, calls us to be simple. The Amish community lives simply and prefers not to be showy in its Christian life.

My childhood memories were of people who worked hard without mechanized farm equipment, lived without electricity and telephone, traveled in buggies, and dressed without color. The memories were of kids with beautiful rosy faces and often bare feet. As an adult I see them as, indeed, simple people, but fully engaged in their family and work life.

Christian Surprise
Under the tragic events of the Pennsylvania Dutch Country there was a surprise discovery for some of us. The Gospel mandate to love one’s neighbor and likewise to forgive one’s enemies does work if given the chance. Anger, the seeking of closure, the bringing to justice, which is usually sought in our society has an alternative. The giving and seeking of forgiveness can transform our worlds. Anger and getting even, often enough, bring only further violence.

Peering into the Amish community with its forgiveness and its acceptance of life’s problems challenges our sophistication. We say we believe, but the translation into our daily lives is the challenge. Despite the tears and sadness of the last week in the Amish country, our world is the better for their quiet carry on of the Christian life, most especially with their forgiveness. The Gospel is more than quaint theological sayings about love and forgiveness. It can bring about God’s Kingdom in our world.

CDH