The next day, a newspaper correspondent covering the hit-and-run accident went to Emanuel’s home and found some family members too distraught to speak. Others agreed to talk, but their words were not what the journalist had expected. “There were tears, yes, and sadness,” the reporter noted, “but also something else here”—a gracious spirit toward the woman whom police considered and later confirmed to be the hit-and-run suspect. Emanuel’s mother, grief-stricken, nevertheless wanted to convey a message to the woman. “She should come here. We would like to see her,” she told the reporter. “We hold nothing against her. We would like to tell her she should not feel bad about this. We just think Emanuel’s time was up now. That is how it was supposed to be.” One of the boy’s aunts, her eyes filled with tears, added, “Tell [the suspect] our thoughts are a lot with her, and our prayers.”
When the driver read the newspaper headline, “A Boy’s Death, a Family’s Forgiveness,” she did a surprising thing: she went to the King home to receive the words of forgiveness. An Amish neighbor reported, “When the driver read that we forgive her and that we wish she would come down here for forgiveness, she came right away on Monday evening.” The driver returned again for the viewing and for visitation with the family. Over the next several weeks “she came back three more times,” explained Emanuel’s father, “and later she even brought a new scooter for the children on what would have been Emanuel’s thirteenth birthday.”
In this time of intense grief the King family relied on a repertoire of grace, forgiveness, and trust in divine providence to make sense of events that otherwise seemed senseless and that, in many other settings, would have triggered calls for retribution. As we will see, none of these habits is simple or uncomplicated. But all were religious habits so deeply rooted in Amish life that they seemed as instinctive to Emanuel’s relatives as they were incomprehensible to outsiders. Seven days later, when five more Amish children in this corner of Lancaster County died in a horrific way, the repertoire was played again, this time for the entire world to see.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Roots of Forgiveness
If we don’t forgive, we won’t be forgiven.
—AMISH CARPENTER
W
e began to uncover the roots of Amish forgiveness by asking members of the community to describe it. A carriage maker met our request with a puzzled look: “It’s just standard Christian forgiveness, isn’t it?” When asked the same question, a twenty-eight-year-old Amish craftsman replied, “Amish forgiveness is just Christian forgiveness.” But after thinking for a moment, he wondered out loud, “Is it
different
from Christian forgiveness?” The thought had apparently never crossed his mind before. It had never crossed ours either.
Many religious traditions consider forgiveness a virtue, but Christianity has awarded it a particularly high place. This esteem is no doubt rooted in Christianity’s understanding of God as One who absorbs evil and willingly forgives sinful humans. Not only did Jesus ask God to forgive those who placed him on the cross (Luke 23:34), the Apostle Paul observed that, in the midst of Jesus’ suffering, “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them” (2 Corinthians 5:19). Throughout the New Testament, Christians are urged to follow Christ’s example by extending grace to their offenders. Leave vengeance to God, Paul instructs the church in Rome. “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21).
The importance of forgiveness in the Christian tradition, when combined with the fact that so many Americans identify themselves as Christians, raises an interesting question: Did the keen public interest in the grace of the Amish stem from the fact that their forgiveness differed from other understandings of forgiveness, or did it arise from the Amish community’s willingness to practice what others only preach? One non-Amish observer remarked, “All the religions teach forgiveness, but the Amish are the only ones that do it.” Was it really just a difference between holding an ideal and practicing it, or were the basic notions of Amish forgiveness unique?
That’s the question we set out to answer.We speculated that the present-day Amish might trace their views of forgiveness back to the Protestant Reformation, when hundreds of their ancestors had died for their faith. But when we asked them about the roots of forgiveness, they began with Bible stories, not the sixteenth-century martyrs. More specifically, they focused on the New Testament, in particular the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. In these New Testament texts, filled with stories about Jesus and the parables he told, the Amish find strong and inescapable reasons to forgive. We soon discovered that those reasons both parallel and depart from the way Christians from other theological traditions understand forgiveness.
The Amish and Discipleship
Many scholars have described the Anabaptist tradition, from which the Amish descend, as a discipleship tradition. From their beginning in the sixteenth century, Anabaptists have emphasized “following Jesus” as an essential mark of the Christian life. Of course, other Christian traditions value Jesus’ life and example, but they find the essence of the Christian faith in something other than discipleship. Roman Catholics, for instance, give priority to the Eucharist, and Pentecostals stress the work of the Holy Spirit. For Anabaptists, the primary expression of faith is following—even imitating—Jesus.
It’s not surprising, then, that Amish churches focus their attention on the words and actions of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels. The New Testament clearly takes precedence over the Old Testament in the biblical texts that preachers use in their sermons. For example, although Amish preachers recite Old Testament stories in their sermons, all the biblical texts read in Amish church services come from the New Testament. Moreover, the Gospels take priority over the other New Testament books. Out of the sixty chapters in the Lancaster Amish lectionary,
4
forty come from the four Gospels, with nineteen from Matthew’s Gospel alone. During the first twelve weeks of each calendar year, the Amish lectionary directs every member’s attention to Matthew 1-12, which includes Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), a passage that receives much attention in Amish theology.
Do the Amish emphasize discipleship because they focus on the Gospels, or does their interest in the Gospels flow from their commitment to discipleship? This chicken-and-egg question may be impossible to answer. Clearly, however, Anabaptists generally and the Amish in particular see Jesus as worthy not just of worship but also of emulation. One early Anabaptist leader put it this way: “Whoever boasts that he is a Christian, the same must walk as Christ walked.” The Amish would admit that traveling this spiritual road is not always easy, but in their view following Jesus is the way that leads to eternal life. A hymn in the
Ausbund,
the Amish songbook that includes dozens of sixteenth-century texts, offers these words of encouragement: “Who now would follow Christ in life / Must scorn the world’s insult and strife / And bear the cross each day. / For this alone leads to the throne / Christ is the only way.”
Reading Matthew and Practicing Forgiveness
In keeping with their emphasis on following Jesus, the Amish people we interviewed focused much of their attention on his teachings, especially those in the Gospel of Matthew. One bishop explained that Matthew 5-7, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, is considered among the most important texts in the scriptures. A minister, speaking in his cabinet shop, echoed the bishop: “Forgiveness is all about Matthew 5 and the Sermon on the Mount and loving our enemies.” For these leaders, forgiveness is rooted in the teachings of Jesus, which infuse the preaching, reading, and liturgy of their churches.
Even Amish persons who talked more generally about forgiveness as a “biblical” theme eventually spoke of the Sermon on the Mount. When we talked to Amos, a young minister who runs a painting business, he told us, “When you start looking in the New Testament, forgiveness is everywhere. When you open up the New Testament, it’s the first thing that’s there. That’s what the Bible is all about: forgiveness. It says we are to take up our cross and follow Jesus. No matter what happens, we must follow him.” As Amos continued, he focused directly on the Gospels: “Just look at Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They’re all about forgiveness. You don’t have to go far in the New Testament and you find it all over the place. Look at the Sermon on the Mount. It’s filled with forgiveness.”
In fact, Jesus’ instructions about forgiveness can be found in many parts of Matthew’s Gospel. An Amish carpenter referred to Matthew 18:21-22 as his basis for understanding forgiveness. In this short passage, the Apostle Peter asks Jesus whether forgiving an offense seven times is sufficient, to which Jesus responds that
seventy times seven
would be closer to the mark. In the carpenter’s mind, “Seventy times seven means that we could have 490 tragedies [school shootings] and we’d still have to forgive.” Many others also cited this verse as a reason for Amish forgiveness.
The rationale for Amish forgiveness does not stem entirely from the Gospel of Matthew, however. Several Amish people mentioned the stoning of Stephen, the first Christian martyr, whose execution is recorded in Acts 7:54-60. As he was dying, Stephen “cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge,” a testimony that an Amish man summed up neatly: “
That’s
forgiveness!” An Amish grandfather pointed to another story, this one in the Gospel of John. “When Jesus caught a prostitute [the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery to Jesus], he asked who could throw the first stone at her. No one could do it.” Another model of forgiveness that many Amish people cited was Jesus’ prayer from the cross: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Perhaps because of their martyr history, this image of forgiveness in the face of torture and death looms large in the Amish mind.
Several of our Amish contacts also reiterated the advice of Paul: “Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye” (Colossians 3:13). “When I think of forgiveness,” said Mary, a thirty-five-year-old seamstress, “the first verse I think of is ‘Be ye kind to one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you’” (Ephesians 4:32). A few Amish people also referred to Old Testament stories, such as Esau’s forgiveness of Jacob (Genesis 33:1-17) and Hosea’s grace toward his wife, Gomer, and her infidelities (Hosea 1-3).
Still, the Gospel of Matthew remained central in the reflections of the Amish people we interviewed. Indeed, the story that emerged most prominently in Amish explanations of forgiveness came from Matthew 18:23-35: Jesus’ parable of the unforgiving servant. This parable is well-known among the Amish, because their ministers read and preach about it during the Sunday service two weeks prior to each spring and fall communion service. For the Amish, the two weeks between that service and the Lord’s Supper on Communion Sunday constitute a period of serious spiritual reflection. This time of soul-searching stresses not so much one’s personal relationship with God but one’s relationship with other people as the key to a righteous life.
The parable immediately follows Peter’s question about how often he should forgive those who sin against him. After answering “seventy times seven,” Jesus launches into a story about a king and a servant who owes the king a huge sum of money. When the debt-ridden servant begs the king to forgive his massive debt, the king graciously agrees. Immediately, the forgiven servant collars one of his fellow servants, who owes him a small debt. When that man promises to pay the debt but asks for patience, the recently forgiven servant refuses to pass on the grace he has received and casts his fellow servant into prison. The king, hearing of the vindictive act, reneges on his earlier promise to forgive the indebted servant and now condemns him and delivers him “to the tormentors.” Jesus completes his parable with a pointed theological application: “So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses” (Matthew 18:35). The story serves to remind every Amish man and woman that only a forgiving heart is prepared to participate in communion.
The Lord ’s Prayer
As prominent as the parable of the unforgiving servant is in Amish minds, the Lord’s Prayer holds an even higher place. Recorded in Matthew 6:9-13, in the middle of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, it is the primary prayer of the Christian tradition. If the Gospel of Matthew serves as the root system for Amish forgiveness, the Lord’s Prayer is the taproot.
Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.