My family has deep Anabaptist roots dating back as earlier as I can tell to the mid-18th century. The Mausts then (spelled Mast but pronounced “mahsht”) sailed to America from Western Europe on the Charming Nancey in the year 1737, seeking not so much religious freedom as economic opportunity. These Masts were Amish.

Both my paternal and maternal extended families today are still almost entirely Mennonite. When they made the transition from Amish to Mennonite, I’m not entirely sure. But last week the enduring kinship between the Amish and Mennonites afforded me an opportunity to talk with an Amishman about theology, homiletics and culture. I wish I would have recorded the conversation, but I’ll try my best to recall the more interesting bits for you now.

Greenhouse Benny

So, while visiting my (Mennonite) grandpa in Pennsylvania last week, my dad and I stopped in at an Amish greenhouse to speak with a prominent Amishman in that small, everybody-knows-everybody community in Somerset County named Benny. My dad, who speaks Pennsylvania Dutch as his first language, first broke the proverbial ice with Benny and his grandchildren by speaking dietche. Fortunately for me, having had two semesters of German and the fact that linguists refer to Pennsylvania Dutch as Pennsylvania German, I was able to follow the brief introductory conversation and finally derail the conversation into the world’s favorite lingua franca, English.

Contemporary Amish Theologians

The question I posed to my dad earlier in the day was, Who are the Amish theologians or authors writing today whose works I could pick up and read? He didn’t know. This initially was the reason why we stopped in to see Benny and this was my first question for him.

To my surprise, he didn’t know of anyone. Of course, there are English (non-Amish) who write about the Amish, just as I’m doing now, but he seemed a bit perplexed by the phrase “contemporary Amish theologians.” He was unable to give the name of any Amishman writing about theological matters. No Amish publishers either as you can imagine. But my thinking is that even if there are no publishers in one’s community, surely this does not keep budding authors from writing down their thoughts, it only keeps them from disseminating their written thoughts. While I don’t doubt there are Amishman who write (maybe even theology), it does seem nothing is yet in print.

I was and still am a bit disappointed, but, honestly, what did I expect? “Oh yeh, Abel Zook is the Rick Warren of the Amish community. You haven’t read him yet?!” That would have been a real surprise.

I next asked Benny what he reads, if anything. The Bible, he said, as well as various Mennonite bulletins and periodicals, one of which is printed at the Mennonite Publishing House in Scottdale, PA.  But, again, he reads nothing decidedly Amish. He seemed content with reading Mennonite publications. Hearing this made me the Amish less sectarian in my mind. They didn’t have to listen only to Amish voices. He didn’t see a problem with reading Mennonite publications.

Theology and Culture

Here’s a brief sidenote. I could tell that several of my questions reminded Benny of times people had treated him and his fellow Amishmen as less than human. He told the story of a young English boy who once quipped that he knew the difference between Benny and himself. Benny, surprised, asked what that difference was. The boy responded, “Well, you’re Amish and I’m human.” Benny told this story as a funny anecdote, but not without meaning for our conversation I’m convinced.

Unprompted Benny began talking openly about his faith. He said it made him upset when young Amishmen said that they had the Amish religion. “I have the Christian religion, the Mennonite faith, and Amish culture. This [grabbing a hold of his plain shirt] is not who I am. This is my culture and one day I won’t wear it anymore.” He then smiled and lightly chuckled as he thought about the future state. This doesn’t sound sectarian either does it? I was pleased to hear him speak thusly.

Seizing the opportunity, I posed this all-important question, “What is the gospel?”

I don’t recall much time passing before he responded, “It’s the road map to heaven…and I hope you believe that, too.” This answer was just fine for me though I was trying to get him to outline the content of the gospel, the kerygma. Nonetheless, I was a little surprised by his bluntly turning the question around on me to say that he hoped I believed the gospel was the road map to heaven also. Amish evangelism?

Homiletics

“Benny,” I said, “I’m curious what resources a young Amish preacher would consult when preparing his sermons.”

He thought about the question for a bit and then started in, “Well, of course, the primary resource is going to be the Bible, Luther’s German translation that is, and then I imagine they would use the Martyr’s Mirror and Josephus. But, other than that, I’m not really sure.”

Interesting. I figured on the Bible, but Josephus? I’m not sure if he was just trying to name-drop as I randomly put the question to him, but I sincerely doubt the extended and regular use of Josephus in anyone’s sermon preparation. I, however, wasn’t as surprised to hear him mention Martyr’s Mirror, a seventeenth century Dutch book documenting the stories of Anabaptist martyrs. The full title of the book is The Bloody Theater or Martyrs Mirror of the Defenseless Christians who baptized only upon confession of faith, and who suffered and died for the testimony of Jesus, their Saviour, from the time of Christ to the year A.D. 1660. I can see how this book might be used in the pulpit to give illustrations or examples of courageous men and women of faith, but, again, would one regularly consult this in sermon preparation?

“What about the works of Jacob Amman or commentaries on Scripture?” I replied.

“No. I don’t even know where you’d get those,” Benny admitted.

Recognizing the dearth of bound resources for Amish preachers, I next asked if he went to church just that past Sunday. I was surprised when he said no.

“You missed church last Sunday?”

“It was our week off.” He then began to explain how his congregation shares a meeting house with another congregation and how they alternate Sundays. The Sunday your congregation is off you meet at each other’s home for fellowship. Sounds cool.

“What was the sermon on when you went last?”

He couldn’t really tell me. He went on to tell how they alternate preachers from within the congregation and the particular guy who preached last Sunday was of late having bad health problems. Consequently, the sermon, Benny added, was jumbled and didn’t really have a point to it. On the one hand, I thought, what else should you expect if the poor guy has nothing to go off or any resources to consult. But, on the other hand, there are many pulpits all across America that suffer pointless sermons from vocational preachers who have bookshelves full of the most scholarly works available. The plight of pointless preaching is pervasive, Englishman or Amishman. Would that we spent more time preparing expository messages from the word even if all we had for preparation was the word!

“Do you take notes at all during the sermon?” I was quickly running out of questions.

“Yeh, sometimes. We are pretty normal you know. I keep a little notebook in my breast pocket.” I think this is the point where he shared the story about the boy who thought he knew the difference between the English and the Amish. He then told how he occasionally found a sermon especially insightful and would write down notes or Scripture references to look up later. Sounds pretty normal to me, too.

“Doesn’t it seem kind of a shame not to have those sermons you found especially insightful preserved for future generations?” I was feeling daring.

“I never really thought about it, but yeh, it does seem kind of a shame.”

“And what if preachers today could read sermons of yesteryear?” was my next logical thought.

“Yeh. That’d be great. I guess I’ve never really thought about it before.”