A sabbatical practice: I drive to Michigan one way and drive home another. There are so many beautiful roads, rivers, lakes, small towns, farms, fields and forests between home and church or home and Three Rivers or home and Marcellus. These are "eye candy" for me.
Today I drove to church on the South River Road to Constantine out of Mottville. So on the way home I took the Centreville Constantine Road across bridge over the tributary of the St. Joe River and went south to White Pigeon on the Kalamazoo Road. From there I headed through some lake country: Fish Lake, Stone Lake, and a jog over to Hunter Lake. (I wonder who is in those ice fishing houses…) South of Hunter Lake are low rolling hills. And when the land becomes flat again on County Road 43 going south, I realize I am in the heart of Amish farmland.
I confess that when I drive my eye is often drawn to images that make dramatic photos because of line, shadow or design. Old barns capture my eye for this reason. The wood is warn to sunbleached shades of gray. The slats are no longer tight or symmetrical. Some barns lean precariously. And some disappear entirely in the course of five years of driving back and forth.
I am also a bit ashamed to say that there is something kind of “romantic” about an old abandoned barn. By that I mean it evokes in me a soulful longing. Why has this barn been abandoned? When did this farm last thrive? Was this one of the losses of the farm crisis of the 1980’s? And if so, will this land ever be farmed again? Will animals or hay ever inhabit this barn?
Today it struck me as I passed out of lake country that the Amish farms are a bold contrast. Rather than shrinking on their land, they are expanding. The houses spread from side to side with pieced together additions, some dadi-houses for aging parents and grandparents, as generations inhabit this farm. The walls of homes and barns and outbuildings are shining white with fresh paint. The windmill turns. A few buggies sit in the yard. Horses graze. Fields are surrounded by protective fences. And entrepreneurial signs abound, such as Small Engine Repair or Shady Ridge Weavers or Yoder Popcorn or Bontrager Organic and Local Products.
It has been thirty three years since I moved to Elkhart County. I have driven by Amish homes hundreds of times. I have admired their gardens, bordered in cock’s combs and flowering cabbage. Yet I have only been in an Amish home three times in all those years.
The first was for the rehearsal dinner for a wedding of a friend from church.
The second was an introduction to Amish singing on a snowy, snowy dark night in January. Arrangements were made for this field trip visit of our AMBS Anabaptist History and Theology class through Mary Oyer.
The third visit was part of a colloquium on “focal practices,” or “What do faith and technology have to do with one another.” It strikes me that these were all contrived and limited “we are looking at you” situations.
But if I, if we, are interested in vibrant rural communities, surely our Amish neighbors, peace church cousins, could be our conversation partners. The table conversation at my last visit was about how the farm land was being divided and divided for all the growing families of the Amish. In addition we talked about cooking and quilting and "bra parties" a la Tupperware style sales. It was delightful!
But how would I make an Amish friend? How could our two cultures engage in cross cultural conversation? How could we share this land, this community, in new ways?
Ah! Arlene Bontrager! In this pondering it dawned on me. Here is my opening. Arlene and Alan have a large booth at the Goshen Farmers’ Market. It is right across from Dale and Jo’s corner of vegetables and flowers from White Yarrow Farm. I have often talked with Arlene. Last summer she told me she was craving pie, and I promised that someday I would make her one. I had every intention! But I did not keep that promise in 2009. Maybe this summer, after returning from my visits to Costa Rican farmers, we could begin a coffee and pie friendship and talk about land and community.
I wonder: Do you have any Amish friends?
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