Plain dress November - thinking about hearth and home

I really recommend this book, After The Fire by Randy Testa, which reflects on lessons learned and time spent with Lancaster County Amish people. I read the book three years ago, and it’s coming up to the top of the pile to read again, because it’s so good. There’s one bit that arrested my attention and stuck in my mind, that has stayed with me in the intervening time since I read it. It’s part of an extract he quotes from the editor’s introduction to a 1989 Amish Directory:
“When our fathers implanted our church in Lancaster County it was their will, even a part of their faith, to live on a farm to raise their family, to live together and work together. The immigrant Stoltzfus family was the backbone of the establishment of our community here. They had an unwritten motto to live together, worship together, stay together and die together. That cohesiveness is one fundamental that built our churches to what they are today…”
Those words resonate at the deepest level for me.

I believe in homes where people are actually living and working, not just returning to sleep at night.

Psalm 68:6 says “He setteth the solitary in families”, and I believe in the supportive web of life woven by families who live and work together.

I recognize that some families are abusive and cold, and there are many individuals whose family life was hell on earth, who would rather live on a doorstep than live with their families, or who have created family by drawing together lone and isolated individuals. I recognize too that a person’s kindred are not necessarily the same as the individuals that person grew up with.

And I remember that when the mother and brothers of Jesus came and stood outside the house where He was teaching, wanting to establish prior claim on His time (and, according to Mark’s gospel, wanting to take charge of Him because people said He was mad), He did not submit to their claim but indicated his group of friends and disciples saying, “Here are my mother and brothers; for whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

So the strength of family life in the way of faith is not about closing ranks or developing a secret language and an exclusive attitude. It is about the mutual supportiveness that creates enough energy and security and stability to offer hospitality and kindness, to respond positively and practically to situations of hardship and need. When people stay together, household matters can be taken care of with a greater economy of time and money, the household members each having the comfort and support of being looked after, and each having the character-building responsibility of being expected to make a contribution. Last night Alice was sitting knitting me some fingerless gloves as we sat and chatted by the fire. We had just eaten the supper we cooked together – baked beans and the vegetables we bought at the farmers’ market. Alice is an adult, and our family ways have attracted some criticism from onlookers in that we continue to live together after our children reached adulthood.

But how much sense it makes: if we lived apart, that would be two cars going to the farmer’s market each with one person in (and each attracting road fund tax, fuel costs, servicing costs and insurance fees), there would be two sets of gas stoves going to cook the supper, two fires burning to warm separate homes. And in each separate home a lonely woman would be doing her knitting. How would this be an improvement?

We live in the main family house, which is big; so yesterday Buzzfloyd was able to have all her friends here for a children’s book party, as her home is a smaller one suitable for a couple with one young child.

While the party was on, those of us who live here went across to Rosie’s house, which is just down the street, and spent the afternoon there with her and Jon before going on to church in the evening and coming home to find a house left beautifully tidy by the departing toddlers.

It works because we are all near together. We can look after each other. One of us works in Canada part of the time, and we can keep her room warm and clean here, ready for the stretches of time she is home. And when she’s home and needs work, her sisters in their nearby homes enjoy the blessing of some spring cleaning being done for them.

We worship and pray together. We help each other. We can live simply on low incomes and ensure that there is actually someone at home most of the time. I take in parcels for my neighbours on both sides and beyond, who are out at work all day.

To live this way increases our chances of making ethical and sustainable choices. Getting our groceries from small local businesses rather than one-stop shopping at a supermarket, eating home-made food rather than processed food, having home-made socks and gloves and hats (and hopefully we shall progress to greater things!), these are all made easier and more feasible, as well as more enjoyable, by sharing.

The Badger works all day in an office, publishing books about the Christian faith, so though he believes in supporting what is small and local, and keeping things clean and tidy and eating fresh home-cooked food – well, by the time he gets home he’s tired and the little shops have shut. The mixture we have of two of us working part-time in the neighbourhood, one of us working from home, two working in a different part of the country or overseas, means that we don’t have all our eggs in one basket financially and our daily rhythms vary so between us we can cover all the bases of home-making.

There are as many ways to walk the path of faith as there are individuals on it, but shared homes and lives and strong families offer great stability and security to the household of faith, which is why Plain people have traditionally opted for this way of living.