A fresh look at the Amish

In college, I frequently took a two-hour bus ride from the campus to my hometown of Pittsburgh, Pa. On every bus ride of my memory during those years, there was at least one Amish man as a passenger. The Amish do not believe in operating motorized machinery (including transportation) but can be passengers in a vehicle.

The ubiquitous straw hat, the suspenders, the deference to authority, the cordial reserve in acknowledging strangers -- all were common among the men.

Among the women, conspicuous were the bonnets, the floor-length dresses worn in all seasons, the wooden baskets for carrying home groceries from the market. And just like their male counterparts, female Amish also were characterized by their desire never to be on display or call attention to themselves.

The Amish are just about the most purposely inoffensive people you are ever likely to meet.

On Monday past in Nickel Mines, Pa., a truck driver took several Amish girls between the ages of 6 and 13 hostage, bound their feet and then shot them execution style in a one-room schoolhouse before killing himself.

As I write this, five of those girls are dead. There is no rhyme or reason to this tragedy; I'll leave that task to the pundits of our society. What follows instead is a tribute to the Amish: a people bred to peace who take seriously the words of Paul: "Therefore come out from them, and be separate from them, says the Lord." (2 Corinthians 6:17)

The Amish do not worship in churches, but in private homes. In the earliest churches, all services were in houses.

The Amish shun electricity, not because they believe it "evil," but because they view it as an unnecessary connection with the world. They take seriously Paul's words "not to be conformed to this world." (Romans 12:2) However, they do use bottled gas to light homes, operate water heaters, stoves and refrigerators.

They do not join the military, nor do they draw Social Security or any other form of government assistance. Many do not carry insurance. I speak of Old Order Amish -- some of whom live in Webster County, Mo. (New Order Amish and Beachy Amish are more relaxed about the use of automobiles and telephones.)

The Amish take the Scriptures seriously. They have highlighted so-called "societal withdrawal" passages and live them out. I don't have to agree with their interpretation of those texts to admire their devotion to them.

The most remarkable thing is the willingness of the Amish community in Nickel Mines to forgive even this most outrageous act. The media horde which has descended on this tiny community of narrow roads has been surprised to discover the Amish folk mean business when they say they forgive the perpetrator. "As Christ forgave us, we must forgive one another," one woman told NBC's Ann Curry. Stunned by that response, Curry pitched back to the studio, bereft of anything meaningful to add.

The shooter was said to have been despondent and angry over the loss of a daughter and tormented by having molested preschool girls. The man's wife was said to have been in a prayer meeting while the siege was underway.

A great test has come to the Old Order Amish of Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania--and the survivors are reacting in a way Jesus would honor. Would we do nearly as well if similarly tested? I pray that we'll never have to find out.

Jeff Long is pastor of Centenary United Methodist Church in Cape Girardeau. Married with two daughters, he is of Scots and Swedish descent, loves movies, and is a lifelong fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers.