On Sunday, our Amish neighbors withdraw into worship. Several families came by the farmhouse on the way to their community worship, held at a different home each week.

I love watching and hearing these wagons rumble by.

The cookies and pies disappeared from the Amish homes, and we didn’t see the wagons heading home for several hours.

I’ve started doing some reading and research about the Amish; they are interesting, and they got into my head; I’m amazed and pleased that they’ve landed nearly on our doorstep.

Last night, I read about Gelalssenheit (I’m reading Amish Peace by Suzanne Woods Fisher, and some other books).

Glassenheit is a foundational value in Amish society, interesting because it has no direct or simple English translation.

Anabaptist Minister Durand Overholtzer explains it using synonyms: yieldedness, humility, calmness, composure, meekness, aplomb, tranquility imperturbability, serenity, poise, sedateness, letting go, the opposite of self-assertion, a gentle spirit, forgiveness, and submitting to God’s will, the ultimate authority.

Glassenheit is caught, not taught.

Amish children learn that there is always a higher authority to yield to – older siblings, parents, and grandparents, the greater good of the community, and God.

Obedience is the first and foremost thing Amish parents want their children to learn; beginning with the teaching event, the smallest children fold their hands in prayer for grace before a meal – the first step in expressing thankfulness to God.

The idea of Glessenheit stresses humility over pride and esteems others above self. “It means helping others, never doing it for browny points, never trying to get something for yourself in return,” wrote one Old Order Amish bishop. “It means that I am surrendering my will to God. Every day, in every way. It does not just know the will of God; it’s doing it.”

I want to know more about Glessenheit; I think I see and sense this humility and calmness in the eyes of the children I have met.

Glassenheit teaches the hard things, the things we all seek but often cannot find: turning the other cheek, blessing your enemy, getting rid of sinful and wasteful habits, giving sacrificially, loving the unlovable.

These are all things Christ referred to in the Sermon on the Mount, which has enormous spiritual and social significance to the Amish.

Unlike mainstream Protestantism, which views God’s grace as free and unending, the Amish believe there are strings attached – most importantly, forgiveness to others.

If there is a universal value in the Amish world, it is forgiveness.

I’m getting a lot of mail about my writing about the Amish, and a lot of it is questioning and skeptical; it goes against the grain of life among the English, as the Amish call us.

There are the animal rights people of course, but I’m not sure they really like anybody.

Nancy’s message was typical of many:

“With an education that may have ended at 8th, what will be the option for any life other than what he already has? While this seems adventurous, it is also dangerous. There are documentaries about rumspringa. The sins of life are too much for most 16-year-olds to explore. We have Amish near us. The young mothers have so many babies I can’t imagine how any modern man would do this to his wife. One Amish man had 6 children with his first wife, who died in childbirth. He traveled to Ohio for wife/mother of first 6 children; she is due for her 5th with him now. That’s 11 children. I can not imagine. It’s not a way I could live. And seems silly they can’t have a car but can ask the English for a ride. They can’t have a phone but can use the neighbors’ phone.”

Good and fair questions. But I have no interest in debating or refuting Nancy’s worries. It’s not her way of life or the way of life she would choose. It’s not for me to defend it or even explain it. Lots of things in life are way beyond me.

I’m not interested in glorifying the Amish way of life; I doubt I could survive a week of it. Nor am I interested in “investigating” or questioning it.

If the Amish value forgiveness, I value acceptance, a dying value in much of American life. We need to defend empathy. I admire anyone able and willing to live the life they want to live, not the life society tells them they need to live.

The Amish idea of a plain life appeals to me. So does the humility and generosity I’ve sensed in my limited encounters with my new neighbors.

I hope to earn and know more, and my heart and mind are wide open to them. I feel there is a lot to learn from my neighbors and a lot that might help me find peace with the way I live.

They are not looking to be me; I am not looking to be them.

I don’t sense they are looking to learn for me, they seem very set in their ways,  but I think they hope they can get some rides and use the telephone in an emergency. I can do that.

But I also sense there are things that I can take from them and incorporate into my life – valuable and important things.

It costs me little to give rides and let some children use my phone. Nancy seems to find this hypocritical; I find it is just being a good neighbor, something I aspire to be and to have.

I can’t speak for all Amish, but those I’ve met are open and honest about the tradeoffs they need to follow their faith and life.

I’ve made a lot more tradeoffs than they seem to have. It took me decades to find a trace of the certainty they have about their lives.

Tradeoffs are a part of being human, growing up, and accepting life as it is, not only as we would like it to be.

I sense the Amish have come into my life for a reason, and the reason is perhaps the usual one for me: a chance to learn, grow and pursue acceptance, tranquility, forgiveness, and letting go. And to share what I know.

When I stop doing that and stop learning I will have died the first death – that of my spirit. I’m ravenous to learn.

It could be just another fantasy, of course, or it could be something precious and nourishing. I’m always on the lookout for that.