Church when I was 5 was never something I looked forward to. First of all there was the big rush in the morning to be ready in time. (Sunday was anything but relaxing) Then we would all pile into the buggy and rattle off to wherever the services were held that day.
The men would stand in a big circle in the barnyard or in a shed if it was cold or raining. Everyone went around the circle and shook hands with every one else. I would become just plain tired of standing there while the elders did their thing. To me it all looked pointless but I never doubted that there was a reason for it all. I was only 5 after all, and the ways of the elders was unfathomable.
Then after everyone (hopefully) had arrived the Bishop would make his way to the house or wherever the services were being held, followed by his ministers. Then the older men would straggle in, then the rest of the men in the order of their age. Last of all came the young boys. Through my 5-year-old eyes they appeared to be evil giants of some sort. I’m not sure why I had this feeling about them. Possibly because my parents did not approve of all the things that the young folks did. Not that anything really bad every happened in Aylmer….. Hrrmm, Cough Cough…… At least nothing that couldn’t be swept under the rug. (There were a lot of rugs, big ones.)
After everyone was settled onto the pine benches, the Bishop would say his thing, wishing God’s blessings on the day and could someone please give out a song to sing. It was always said exactly the same way. Then the song leader of the day would give out a number, in German of course, and the singing would start. It was a slow sleepy kind of singing. Something handed down from the mists of time. It could be the most disgusting sound or it could be downright beautiful. What made the difference I am still not sure.
As soon as the first line of the song was sung the Bishop would get up and go out for Abraat. (council) The ministers would follow him like so many sheep. In my 5-year-old perceptions they appeared stern, distant, not unkind, but certainly to be feared. There was something, something mysterious, something to be dreaded like a deep dark secret, about that line of men filing out to the do whatever they did while we sang.
We sang until the ministers came back in, which was a long time for a 5-year-old, and then as soon as the current song was done one of them would get up to deliver the opening sermon. The opening sermon was supposed to be short, 15 minutes at the most culminating in a prayer. Unfortunately, some of the ministry had more to say than could be said in that time period and so it often lasted longer. That was never a huge deal with me because I always zoned out and went off into my imagination. Which was quite lively.
One day the minister got started expounding on the topic of “Redda mitt Gott” (Talking with God). Well the word “redda” in German is not often used in our day-to-day Pennsylvania Dutch so I didn’t understand it in the context it was used. “Redda” is also very similar to the word “raat” (wheel) in German. I pondered the quandary ( I’m a weirdo btw and think completely in visual imagery) and finally created the solution to the problem. In my mind I saw a great big wheel like one of those old water wheels only it had handles in place of the paddles and on one side of the wheel was the grand old gentleman who was delivering the sermon, on the other side was God himself. Together they were turning the wheel by pulling on the handles. The wheel was on a shaft and the shaft went off into the distance, obviously turning the mysterious gears of God’s great kingdom. Wheeling with God. My translation of the sermon that day.
It took me a long long time realize that the church and God don’t always pull in the same direction on the Great Wheel of Wheeling with God.
After prayer the deacon got up to read a chapter from the scriptures. Sometimes he spoke a few words and sometimes he too had a problem with talking too long. Made for a long service if all the ministers felt very inspired. Or, may I say it, had a bone to pick.
After the deacon was done with his thing another minister got up to deliver the main part. This lasted for an hour or so depending on how much time the other speakers had taken. This was considered the main spiritual meal of the day, but a lot of folks partook of it by settling down for a good nap.
After that there was Zuegniss. Where the minister who had delivered the main part asked a few of the other ministry to corroborate what he had said. After which we sang another song, usually a fairly joyous one, as in anticipation of freedom, and then, Yay! Church was out.
I think no true blooded Amish would admit it but the best part of the day was the noon meal and the conversation that flowed around it. The children playing, the adults talking in scattered groups, the atmosphere of friendliness and community, the deafening buzz of conversation. That really was what Amish was all about. It was not about the abstract and vague doctrines or dialogs about the correctness and importance of the Ordnung. Not that the sermons were all bad, they were just too stern and severe. Too distant. Jesus was all about life and love after all. And he told us to live as he did.
Fast forward 25 years. That little Amish 5-year-old now sits in front of a MacBook Air, an iPhone on the desk beside him. The desk is covered with the paraphernalia of the modern office, printers, cords and routers. Less than a year ago he first laid hands on a laptop. In that time he has gone from innocent Amish to software developer/consultant/contractor, and in a way, he is more Amish than ever before.
His children are playing on the floor behind him. Playing just like he did when he was 5. With pencils, paper, scissors, glue and most of all, a copious imagination. 25 years have passed and everything is different, but really nothing has changed.
The unwritten Amish creed states that those who embrace technology lose their faith. They always get trapped up in porn or some other form of dark evil. I’m sure there is porn on the internet, and all kinds of evil, but I’ve never seen any. I have had interaction with plenty of Amish who use technology just like I do and I simply fail to see it happening. Technology will change the Amish culture. Drastically. But I don’t see them loosing their faith in the process. The leadership has gotten faith and culture mixed up that’s all.