Sep 18, 2017

Choices Have Consequences


This past Saturday, as Elijah and I were arriving in Shippensburg, Pennsylvania we came across some Amish.  As we left the Turnpike, two ladies dressed in the 19th century dresses, bonnets, and aprons rounded a corner laughing gaily.  A man in a long gray beard and straw hat smilingly manured a tractor around a field, while ahead of us a quaint box-like horse-drawn buggy plodded along the country road. It was like a scene out of a movie.

A few minutes later we came across another young Amish family in a buggy stopped at a red light across the intersection from us.

I'd never seen the Amish up close like this before and I found it fascinating. It got me thinking again on something that's been on my mind for the past week or two: this idea that choices have consequences.  Most of us really don't want to think about this hard reality.  Any teacher or parent will recognize that moment when you confront a child about some misbehavior.  They look at the ground, scuff their shoes, and mumble "I don't know" when asked to consider why they did what they did, what they were thinking what they did it, and what they thought the consequences of their choice might be. They just don't want to own the choices they made because that would require them to face the consequences squarely.

But we adults do it too.  "Man, I don't know why I can't ever make it work on time."  "I don't know where the money went. . .more month than money ya' know?" "I don't know why I can't stay off my phone" #shrug.  The truth is the same for us as for that busted kid.  We claim not to know because it keeps us from facing the hard truth that we made choices.  We chose to be late.  We chose to spend.  We chose to be distracted.  It didn't "just happen."  We made choices. And now we live with the consequences.  Of course we--intentionally, I think--don't think about it that way.  But when we choose to keep doing "this little thing" and "that little thing" before heading out the door to work we are making a choice to be late.  When we buy whatever looks good off the grocery shelf rather than considering a budget, we are making a choice to have less paycheck than month.  When we pick up our phones rather than looking at our spouse, we are making a choice to disconnect from being present.

Which brings me back to the Amish. It struck me that this community decided not let life just happen.  Their culture decided they had choices.  They saw the world adapting various forms of technology, weighed the consequences they perceived of choosing to modernize, and chose to make a different choice.  I'm not saying that they were "right" in their choice. I just admire that they seemed to recognize that modernization was not an inevitability that just happened.  You could choose it. Or not.

That's something I think we could all learn from the Amish.

Here's a great article from the New York Times three days ago discussing the challenges the Amish face of weighing choices and consequences as the modern world presses on with ever greater pressure.  Fascinating read.


 "And I so hate consequences
And running from you is what my best defense is
Consequences
God, don't make me face up to this
And I so hate consequences
And running from you is what my best defense is
Cause I know that I let you down
And I don't want to deal with that"
                                             --Relient K