I was not Amish. Or was I?
In 1977, when I retired from teaching American history at Malone College in Canton, Ohio, I had only a detached curiosity about my Amish roots. My family was distinctly Mennonite, not Amish! I was not aware that my great grandparents had lived and died in that persuasion. Nor did I know that my grandparents had made the transition to the change-minded Amish Mennonites in that Great Schism of the 1860s. I was later surprised to learn that it was only in my early childhood years (1916) that my parents' church had broken further from its Amish roots by joining with the MC Mennonites and dropping "Amish" from its name.
But during those forty years of teaching, my father kept reminding me of my Stoltzfus, Yoder, Hershberger, Troyer, and other forebears. Especially my Stoltzfus ancestors! My father produced a genealogy of the descendants of my mother's great-great grandfather, Peter Schrock, who was a minister in what later became the Oak Grove congregation of Wayne County, Ohio. But still, I hardly realized that these forebears were Amish.
My father loved to tell me the story of his grandfather, Deacon John Stoltzfus, who in 1872, at 65, had the temerity to move from the rich farming country of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, to Knoxville, Tennessee, with its red soil and post-Civil War disarray. He took six of his twelve children and their families with him. Father told this story respectfully, but was critical of what proved to be a financially- unwise move.
I left the classroom in late May 1977. At the same time, almost to the day, I received notice of the upcoming reunion of the descendants of "Tennessee" John Stoltzfus, at the Millwood Mennonite Church, near Gap, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I had no choice; I had to attend(if for no other reason than for my father's sake.
At that reunion I received encouragement to write the biography of this Stoltzfus patriarch, my own great grandfather. Since he was something of a church leader, this biography, when completed two years later, provided me with a key-hole view of Amish church history in the nineteenth century. But the keyhole was small; I needed a window, a larger one. So since 1980 I have been spending much of my time enlarging that window.

Amish Roots
Quickly I came to realize how Amish my roots really were. Just as the apostle Paul was, by his biological and sociological roots, "a Pharisee of the Pharisees," so I am an Amishman of the Amish. No, I am not an Amishman at present, but neither was Paul a traditional Pharisee when he declared himself to be "a Pharisee of the Pharisees."
I prefer not to carry the analogy any further, for Paul was, I think, much farther removed from his Pharisee roots than I am from my Amish roots. Some of my Amish friends might disagree with me on this point.
My "Amish credentials" are impressive! I am a descendant of the famous widow Barbara Yoder, who migrated to America in 1742. My Stoltzfus roots are represented by Nicholas Stoltzfus, who migrated to America in 1763. My mother's forebears, the Troyers and the Hershbergers, have a similar history.
But in my youth I had thought of those Old Order Amish boys and girls who made up one-half of my schoolmates at Eight Square School, near Goshen, Indiana, as belonging to a peculiar denomination. I viewed them as extremely legalistic and traditional, quite out of touch with the twentieth century. As for my parents, they were not disposed to talk about the Amish flavor of their own roots.
Nevertheless, I had found those Amish schoolmates to be good playmates. I thought some of the girls were attractive, but assumed that the gulf between us was too wide to allow for any extended socializing. (But Mattie saw no barriers. One evening after dismissal she stopped me in a corner outside of the school building and gave me a precious pencil clip to signify her interest in me.)
And then in my later youth, as a member of a threshing crew, I learned to know many Amish farmers as I traveled to the ends of the neighborhood and beyond. Here I found them in their native habitat. Here they were at home. I'm sure there were disagreements among them and surely there was some ill will among them at times. And, yes, shunning was practiced. But on threshing days there was only camaraderie and jocular sparring. It was clearly understood that such repartee was expected be a part of those daily ablutions around the noonday washtub. In spite of my reluctance to use their dialect, they took me into their circle. Those scenes have never left me.
Nevertheless, it was only after I had retired from teaching and had made serious inquiry into my roots that I came to the realization that my Old Order Amish friends were also my spiritual cousins. Coming to this understanding made my research more interesting, and indeed, more exciting. This stance may dismay those historians who insist that the narrator of historical events write his or her account with detachment. I submit that no chronicler has ever been able to arrive at the distinction of having written without bias.

New Treasures Unearthed
When I began on this journey in 1980, I did not anticipate the wealth of new source material in Amish history, which would come my way in the following two decades. "Tennessee" John's remarkable cache of letters and church-related documents, preserved in the attic of his great granddaughter, Lydia Mast, Atglen, Pennsylvania, was the most remarkable find. As Amish history began to unfold further, the minutes of those Amish ministers' meetings of 1862-1878 became increasingly significant. Clearly they required further attention--and translating. They had been available but little used. Then in 1997 Amos Hoover, Old Order historian, and John Sharp, Director of the Archives of the Mennonite Church, found an old letter written in1838. It related to the controversy within the Amish Church concerning the rebaptism of Mennonites who wanted to join an Amish congregation.
These gold nuggets are not all that my historical prospecting brought to light. But they are the most significant. And I am indebted to those who brought them to my attention.
I began with my family roots and soon became acquainted with a number of my forebears. Four generations of them--Jacob, Samuel, Jonathan, and Silvanus--were lifetime or one-time members of what became the Oak Grove Amish congregation in Wayne County, Ohio. Jacob moved there from Mifflin County, Pennsylvania in 1818. His great grandson, Silvanus, left Wayne County for Elkhart County, Indiana in 1896, where he married Susanna Troyer. Tracing those four generations of Yoders and noting their involvement in the affairs of the Oak Grove congregation was a warm experience for me.
I learned of the ministry of my mother's great--great grandfather Peter Schrock, also of the Oak Grove congregations. Two generations later there was the story of my maternal grandfather, Samuel Troyer's struggle to be freed from the sense of guilt for past sins. Samuel's wife Katie was the heroine of this story.

Imperfect but Worthy Models
These my forebears of the nineteenth century and their associates were conscientious Amish people who walked in the footsteps of their ancestors, many of whom had suffered persecution in Europe. In spite of their exceeding respect for tradition, which sometimes seems to have been confused with respect for God's Word, and in spite of their emphasis on obedience, which sometimes overshadowed their claims to God's grace, they sought earnestly to follow Christ. Although imperfect models, they are worthy of some emulation by those of us who, at the close of the twentieth century, would also follow Christ.
Most refreshing to my heart is the consistent Amish position against reprisal and revenge. Incidents of recent years confirm this observation:
There are the parents of the Allen County, Indiana, baby that was killed by a stone thrown at her when she was cradled in her mother's arms while riding with her parents in a buggy. The farmers in Mifflin County, Pennsylvania, whose barns were set on fire by an arsonist. The relatives and friends of the Fredricksburg, Ohio, girl who was killed by a reckless motorist. The Nappanee, Indiana, bicyclers who were knocked to the ground and robbed on paydays.
In all these cases no legal action or reprisals were taken by the victims against the culprits. In some instances the victims, or their communities, even attempted to reach out redemptively to the offender. This is a striking contrast to the quick recourse to the law of most present-day victims and pretend-victims.

Pride and Humility
In contrast to the American norms for the promotion of self, the Amish emphasis on humility is a breath of fresh air. In Amish thought, pride is a cardinal sin and humility is essential to salvation. Isn't it true that the recognition of one's sin and the necessity of receiving God's grace require a humble and contrite heart as a lifetime stance? They even speak of Niedrichkeit, the recognition of one's "nothingness," as a virtue. The virtue of humility is so fragile that for one to be so bold as to claim it for himself is to lose it. Although Mennonites of the twentieth century find this denigration of self distasteful, even so, it would seem to stand many notches higher on the scale of virtues compared to its opposite--arrogance and conceit.
The Amish leave no stone unturned in their effort to detect and destroy the sin of pride, mostly by insisting on obedience to the Ordnung. To do this they try to forbid personal conduct or life stance, which appears to be an expression of pride or arrogance. The Ordnung reflects this concern. The Amish are, ready to enforce their regulations with that ultimate instrument of congregational discipline, the bann.

Congregational Discipline
But in their attempt to be less legalistic than the Amish, the MC Mennonites have all but dropped their former "rules and regulations." Not only have specific rules been dropped, but also the concept which gave the rules acceptance. David Luthy, Old Order Amish historian, has sharpened the distinction between the discipline practiced by the Amish and that of the MC Mennonites. He notes that "Admonition," as contrasted to discipline, is the key word for understanding the Amish Mennonite and Mennonite pattern of "drifting." Conference "resolutions" and "admonishment" lacked the teeth that the Old Order "discipline" had. Today it constitutes the vast gulf between the Old Order Amish and the Mennonites with whom the Amish Mennonites united, 1916-1927.
Some would maintain that Luthy has made the distinction between the discipline of the Old Order Amish and the MC Mennonites too sharp. However, it should be noted that after separation from the Old Order Amish, the Amish Mennonites, in the course of a generation and a half, dropped some rules and regulations through attrition rather than by conscious deliberation. The practice of shunning, as advocated and practiced by Menno Simons and Jacob Amman fell into disuse gradually. There was never a formal decision to discontinue this centuries-old instrument of church discipline. In like manner, a relaxing of the regulations against the use of musical instruments and the photographing of individuals came only after the fact. Most of us MC Mennonites would not choose to reinstate the practice of shunning, nor the regulations of a century ago. But we would do well to note that changes in the Old Order Amish Church have been more orderly than those in the MC Mennonite Church, although admittedly, at the price of considerable splintering.

Assurance of Salvation
Then there is that theological and experiential issue about one's personal assurance of salvation. The Amish say, "He that endureth to the end shall be saved" (Matt. 24:13). Therefore one cannot have assurance of salvation until the end of his life, and then only after God has pronounced him faithful at the Judgment Day. Here I must join with the critics. I suspect that my grandfather Troyer need not have anguished for years over his past sins, confessed and forsaken, had he had a proper understanding of God's grace. On this point I must listen to those who have left the Amish faith because of its stance against assurance.
But I must also note that some of my long-deceased Amish friends--with whom I have become acquainted only through the letters and other documents which they left behind--have expressed, with some poignancy, their own sense of God's love, forgiveness and presence in their lives.
One of these nineteenth-century Amish friends, perhaps my closest, is Deacon Christian Stoltzfus (1803-1883). This reluctant administrator of Amish discipline, both in his congregation in Buffalo Valley, Pennsylvania, and of the fun-loving sons of his second marriage, was much given to introspection. He said to his deacon brother, "Tennessee" John:
I often have to think of it, especially at night when I lie sleepless in my bed . . . . How are we poor mortals to do everything which the Great Prophet teaches us in His Gospel? But yet I hope and believe that the loving heavenly Father is moved to pity me, poor sinner, and that he wants to forgive my past sins if I am to appear before Him on that great Judgment Day. But through infinite grace and mercy, and the price of the shed blood of Jesus Christ, I hope to meet a merciful judge._
The honesty, humility, and gracious stance of Christian Stoltzfus is most refreshing to my heart.
Another of my Amish friends of yore is George Jutzi (ca, 1790-1845) of Richville, Ohio. In his book-length, and poetry-formatted, Ermahnungen (Exhortations), he tells the Biblical story of salvation. In page after page he builds up an enormous case against sinful humankind. Then he points to the Savior as God's answer to the cry of humankind for a deliverer. The build-up, consisting of many scores of four-line stanzas, is overwhelming. Humankind's sins, beginning with those of Adam and Eve, have accumulated until they "heap up from here to God's throne." All have "followed in Adam's footsteps." There is no one "who is not flecked with sins . . . who might have the power to blot out our guilt."
The crescendo continues. Even "angels' tears" will not appease a righteous and just God. There are none so "bold and wise in speaking" that they can persuade God to turn away His wrath. But eventually God shows the "light of grace" to his fallen creation. The King comes, who "will redeem the people from the power of sin and death, tread on the serpent's head, overcome his power, break Satan's lock and bolt, and on that victory hill [Golgotha] free young and old. "
Robert Friedmann has characterized this marathon poem as largely descriptive, portraying "the sturdy and concrete Biblical faith [of the Amish] without much emotion" I must take issue with Freidmann. George Jutzi's word pictures are, indeed, graphic and charged with warm personal feelings.
Of my nineteenth century friends, there remains Bishop David A. Troyer (1827-1906), Grandfather Samuel Troyer's first cousin. With considerable help from Joseph Stoll, well-known Amish author, I have translated his memoirs. Much of his poetry, written in mid-life during his years of illness, seems contrived and laboriously didactic. But his "Evening Poem" rises above the others. He speaks to God in the cool of the evening:

Oh God, you who have given us  The dark night for our gentle rest, Surround us now with your might Body and soul we commit to thee. He closes the poem with the following verse: As we go to bed May you, Lord, send your angels That they may stand by our side. Then we close our eyes.

In another of Troyer's poems, "Now We Commit the Body To rest," he intends the reader to imagine him speaking to the mourners from his coffin. Written in his mid-life years of ill health, he comments on his own imagined death. Here there is no unease or uncertainty about his eternal destination. He is with the Lord. Further, he assures his mourners with words that seem atypical of Amish beliefs, that upon their own death, "this joy will also be yours." He concludes:

My soul has gone ahead, Where the Lord will watch over it Until the day of eternity And of that unspeakable joy Which no eye has yet seen. So do not trouble yourselves overmuch about it, You who remain alive on the earth, For this joy will also be yours.

Amish Colleagues
Finally, there are my living Amish friends. These include Ivan Hershberger, who repairs my lawn mower and the Simon Schmucker family, Goshen, Indiana. The Schrocks live on the homestead of my wife's parents, and freely consent to our having family reunions there. I want to note especially those with whom I have participated in research projects. These associates include Joseph Stoll of the Pathway Publishers, Aylmer, Ontario; the aged Minister Eli Gingerich, who lives a few miles east of Middlebury, Indiana; Vernon J. Miller, compiler and author of the Historical Album of Charm, Ohio; Bennie C. Yoder, member of the Casselman River Area Amish and Mennonite Historians, Springs, Pennsylvania; Abner F. Beiler, Librarian of the Pequea Bruderschaft Library, Gordonville, Pennsylvania; and the late Levi Stoltzfus of Leola, Pennsylvania, genealogist and family historian. The list is incomplete, but suggests the extent of my Amish associates. Without exception, these men have been congenial co-researchers, giving and receiving the results of our common researching, without concern for who gets the credit for any particular discovery. This is not always the case among writers.
Peter Stoll and David Luthy remain to be mentioned. Peter was one of the leaders in the Amish settlement in Honduras in the 1970s. I never met him, but his son Joseph has given him identity for me. I shall never forget his homespun proverb that "it's better to trust and get taken once in a while than not to trust."

Conclusion
My Amish connections have not led me to follow the path taken by David Luthy, my closest Amish friend. Luthy was born, reared, and educated in the Catholic faith. After college and several years of seminary training he began to explore Anabaptist beliefs. He concluded his search by joining an Old Order Amish congregation. I respect him heartily for this, but do not find it in my heart to follow him. For, as I have already indicated, I am in some disagreement with Amish beliefs and practices. In spite of this, Luthy and I have been companions in research in Amish church history for the last fourteen years. May our friendship, in spite of our differences, continue into eternity!

---

Paton Yoder, Goshen, Indiana, wrote this reflection at the invitation of the editor


Endnotes
See Silvanus Yoder, A Brief History . . . of the Descendants of Peter Schrock (Scottdale, Pa.: Mennonite Publishing House, 1923).

See Paton Yoder, Eine Wurzel: Tennessee John Stoltzfus (Lititz, Pa.: Sutter House, 1979).

See Paton Yoder, Tennessee John Stoltzfus: Amish Church-related Documents and Family Letters (Lancaster, Pa.: Lancaster Mennonite Historical Society, 1987). Yoder was also editor of many of the documents found in this attic cache. An account of this discovery may be found on p. 10. Copies of the proceedings of these conferences may be found in the Mennonite Historical Library, Goshen, Indiana. A translation of these minutes, with annotations and supporting documents, by Steven Estes and Paton Yoder, has been announced by the Mennonite Historical Society.

A translation of this letter of 1838, with annotations appears in this issue. A more extensive article will appear in a forthcoming issue of the Mennonite Quarterly Review.

Paton Yoder, Katie Hershberger Troyer Hostetler, 1852-1929 (Goshen, Ind.: by the author, 1981).

Paton Yoder, Tradition and Transition: Amish Mennonites and Old Order Amish, 1800-1900 (Scottdale, Pa.: Herald Press, 1991), p. 219.

For the Amish position on "assurance," see Amish Bishop David A. Troyer, "Wer aber beharret bis zum Ende dir wird selig," in Herold der Wahrheit, Jan. 15, 1886, pp. 17-18.

Deacon Christian Stoltzfus to Deacon John Stoltzfus, March 15, 1869, in Tennessee John Stoltzfus. . . Documents, pp. 147-148.

These excerpts are translations taken from Ermahnungen von George Jutzi in Stark County, Ohio, an siene Hinterbliebenen, (Somerset County, Pa.: Alexander Stutzman, 1853), pp. 89-100.

R[obert] F[riedmann], "George Jutzi," Mennonite Encyclopedia, vol. 3, p. 133.

Troyer's grandchildren published his memoirs under the title, Hinterlassene Schriften von David
A. Treyer [Troyer] (Elkhart, Ind.: Mennonite Publishing Co., 1920). Pathway Publishers will publish this translation in the near future.
Translated from Ibid., pp. 75, 76.
Translated from Ibid., p. 95.

Joseph Stoll, Sunshine and Shadow, Our Seven Years in Honduras (Aylmer, Ont.: by the authors, 1996), p. 209.

Mennonite Historical Bulletin, October 1998