Amophiles: Can Such People Exist??

Yes. They can and they do, heaven help us.

Perhaps you are wondering what an amophile is, and rightly so. I doubt that I invented this word, but Microsoft Word and Google seem to suggest exactly that. So here is the nice definition of “amophile”: an admirer of Amish people. The not-so-nice definition: batshit crazy and annoying as hell.

A disturbing painting came to light a few years ago. I can’t find it anywhere and I’m still trying to decide whether or not that is a good thing (as I think my point would be made with it.) The painting is by none other than Thomas “Dr. Frankenstein” Kincade and it is a work of monstrous proportions. It depicts a family of Amish people in a buggy, pulling up to their Amish house, which is seemingly a giant gingerbread house in the middle of a fluffy snow covered field. Yes. Because that is verrry Amish. Living is a house made of gingerbread.

I blame the amophiles.

Other instances of the effects of amophilia can be observed in the multitude of Amish romance novels and made-for-TV films that currently abound. That’s right, Amish romances. From what I can gather most of these romances include someone that secretly plays the guitar, who becomes a Methodist at the end of the series. Well, whoop-de-la.

And then there’s something I like to call the “Amish Theme Park.” These are local attractions that tend to spring up in areas that Amish folks live in. They usually include a restaurant that specializes in chicken and Stauffer’s lasagna, a gift shop, and, in one case that I know of, a theater.

I was waiting to attend a theatrical event at one of these local travesties (as if the theater were one of the great Amish feats. Amish theater, man. Had a whole section on it in my drama lit class. Contributed soooo much to the postmodern SCENE, man!) It was then that a herd of octogenarians creaked and stumbled off of a bus, probably the “Amo-Stalkers USA.” They all sat huffing in that little waiting room filled with all sorts of “Amish” artifacts for the earnest tourist. Artifacts such as creepy dolls with no faces, floral print bonnets, and ceramic dragons and unicorns.

“Look at this Fred!” I heard the throaty exclamation issued from some old matronly Methodist, probably named Phyllis. I followed the wizened finger, which pointed to what appeared to be a scant number of sticks glued into the general shape of a box with a handle, but that wouldn’t hold anything in it due to some serious flaws in structural integrity. “An Amish toolbox!”

Thus many throaty issuings from all within earshot were heard. I heard something akin to the snap of a falling tree as “Frank” bent down and took the tag in his hand. “Wah—why it says it’s an Amish Toolbox!” Fred concurred, and yet again all within earshot commenced to throaty laughter.

“I’ll have to get that for you!” said “Phyllis,” always the kidder, and all within earshot suffered cardiac arrest.

Please, don’t be these people. You are not only annoying, but also rewarding Amish behaving badly.

We Mennonites could open our own Mennoland if we wanted. Yeah, that’s right! Complete with such interactive games as “Dunk or Pour?” “Midwestern Agriculture 2000!”“Don’t let the pastor see you drinking!” and “Flee Soviet Russian! An Obstacle Course” (All the sudden I’m sensing an upcoming blog…) So, why don’t we open our own little Menno theme parks and sell our own little ceramic dragon and unicorn talismans? Because WE have a little thing called PRIDE! No wait…that’s one of the deadly sins…

SHAME! That’s right, we still have our SHAME! And maybe it’s time the Amish remembered the SHAME that took us all over Europe, the SHAME that kept us alive, the SHAME that helped us flee to a new land with opportunities and freedoms, that same land that somehow found the same way to imprison and kill us, at least until CO status became an option.

We still have our shame, Am-os. Where is yours? For shame!

And that concludes Amish week, because there is simply nothing more of interest to be said. Hoorah!

Put the cows to pasture for:

Mennocon: [Insert Quip]

RUMSPRINGA

Media people, surprise surprise, love nothing better than to sensationalize Amish life when given the chance. The greatest tool they have for doing this is the “Rumspringa.” Wikipedia defines “rumspringa” as:

a period of adolescence for some members of the Amish…that begins around the age of sixteen and ends when a youth chooses baptism within the Amish church or instead leaves the community.^[1]:10-11 The vast majority choose baptism and remain in the church.^[1]:14 … Amish elders generally view this as a time for courtship and finding a spouse.^[1]:14

During rumspringa, the Wikipedia article explains,

A minority of Amish youth do diverge from established customs.^[1]:13 Some may be found:^[1]:10-11

Wearing non-traditional clothing and hair styles (referred to as dressing “English”)

Driving vehicles other than horse-drawn vehicles (for communities that eschew motor vehicles)

Not attending home prayer

Drinking and/or using recreational drugs

Engaging in pre-marital sex

Holy Buggywheels! Us’n Mennonites have a period in our lives similar to this so-called “rumspringa”! We call it COLLEGE.

Also, I’d like to point out how funny it is that people get their kicks off of considering the Amish as human beings with any sense of sexuality about them. Honestly, how do you think they got all those kids? It ain’t through prayer and fastin’, marm.

So take that Rumspringa! Rumors of the Amish being interesting beyond the average person! DEBUNKED!

CLOSE YOUR EYES IN HOLY DREAD FOR:

Amophiles: Can Such People Exist?

The Amish: Mennonites Who Couldn’t Handle the Party

If you are unfortunate enough to live in an area within reasonable distance of a localized Amish infestation, you have probably seen “Amish eggs” at your local grocery store or farmer’s market. I am here to tell you that whoever tries to sell you “Amish eggs” is a liar. The Amish, like all Anabaptists, practice Believer’s Baptism only. However, I will abstain from commenting on “Amish milk.”

As I stated at the beginning of this blog, Mennonites are not Amish. However, I really wanted to do a section on our Anabaptist cousins, the Amish, because they are a group that many people are familiar with and they are also easy targets. Very few Amish people, that’s right, I said VERY FEW, have internet access and I can’t think of a compelling reason for them to google “Mennonite table,” seeing as they have a monopoly on the handcrafted furniture business.

So, how did the Amish come into being? The original Amish were a group of Mennonites that started following the teachings of a dude by the name of Jacob Amman. You could tell by his name what a dull person he was destined to be. He wanted to split from the Mennonites he was formerly associated with because he liked feet and wanted to see the “ban,” or shunning, from churches to be a more common practice. He felt like the church was being too loose. The man was a killjoy, what more can I say.

So he got a bunch of people with mildew in their hair to believe like he did, and then he died, and the mildew people called themselves “Amish,” and years later Beverly Lewis lived among them and published her groundbreaking novel “Amish in the Mist,” which is soon to be a made-for-TV movie starring Sigourney Weaver, because why not, I just totally went there.

Today the Amish are generally way more conservative than Mennonites, though there are some groups that do use electricity or phones. Inversely, there are also a few small groups of Mennos that are just as conservative as some Amish, and that is where it can get confusing for people.

But we’re still cooler. And I will spend a few posts explaining why. Yay!

NEXT:

A compelling look at a Wikipedia article on Rumpringa!