“It still doesn’t look a fair arrangement, the way you describe it.”
“You and I are women. We’re only to concern ourselves with our half of it. Fair can’t be in our minds. Because we’re involved, we wouldn’t know fair if it bit us in the face. That’s why God just tells us what to do and expects us to do it . . . and leave fair to him. And we have to remember that there’s just as much dying that goes on for our husbands. Both sides have to relinquish. Both husband and wife give of themselves.”
“What does a man have to give up?”
“The woman gives up her right to independence, allowing herself to flow through her husband, allowing him to be head, trusting him. But his headship means that he has to serve his wife. He has to look for her best interests ahead of his own. So he gives up his right to independence as well. You see—rule and submission are like the two blades of a pair of scissors. They both have to work at the same time.”
Again it was silent. At length Maggie spoke again.
“In Ephesians,” she said, “Paul was talking to men and women together when he told them what was expected of them. If you want it to be fair, Jocelyn, my dear, read what Paul told the husbands. I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes!”
Maggie began to chuckle.
“What is it?” smiled Jocelyn.
“I was just thinking of the other side of it—though we’re not supposed to do that. We’ve got enough trouble doing our half of the thing without craning out necks about to see if the men are holding up their end. But what I was thinking was that husbands stumble over the same snags as wives, because they don’t understand the command to rule any better than we do.”
Again she laughed. “Matter of fact, most men stumble over it even worse.”
“How?” asked Jocelyn.
“They also think rule means they’re to lord it over their wives. So they strut about like roosters in a henhouse thinking that’s what the Scripture means. And they miss the mark further than their untrusting wives.”
“At least Charles doesn’t do that.”
Maggie nodded. “You’re a fortunate woman, as am I. Ah but, Jocelyn, dear, these are mixed-up times we’re living in, with everyone trying to be equal and get their rights. Men are mixed up. Women are mixed up. And we’re all getting further and further away from the way the Bible tells us to live. That’s why we wives have to be diligent to obey our half of the thing, to help our husbands serve and lay down their lives for us.”
“So rule really means . . . to serve?”
The old woman’s eyes twinkled as if she understood a joke the whole world was blind to. “Of course, dear. That’s how my Bobby rules over me, by loving me and serving me. That’s what your Charles does to you too. I’ve seen him. That’s why you can trust him, because he loves you. Isn’t that what Paul told the Ephesian men along with what he said to their wives? He said, Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it. What else is that but laying down their lives for their women?”
Jocelyn pondered her words.
“If you ask me,” Maggie went on, “the men have the harder time of it. We only have to be subject to our husbands. But they’ve got to give themselves completely for us, even die if need be, like Jesus did. Women who complain about a marriage not being equal don’t see that the husband’s given the harder job of the two. We get security and protection while we build a home. Our husbands have to give up their whole lives for our sake.”
58
What Would Happen If We Trusted Men?
But what about the women’s movement to have more rights?” asked Jocelyn after the two women had sat for several minutes in silence. “Especially the right to vote. Isn’t that good? I think it is. But how does that reconcile with a man being a woman’s head? Should women leave everything to men? Are women to be nobodies in the world?”
Maggie contemplated her answer. She took a sip of her tea and swallowed slowly. Jocelyn had by now learned to be patient. She knew that Maggie’s wisdom in viewing life’s complexities was not to be rushed.
“You ask many questions,” she said at length. “The old queen would enjoy talking over the world’s affairs with you, I think!”
The words brought a pleasant remembrance of Victoria to Jocelyn’s mind, and she smiled.
“I believe ’tis good for women to be able to vote,” Maggie went on. “I hope it happens in my lifetime. I look forward to the privilege. God has given women a measure of wisdom to balance the leadership of men. And I believe women should be aware what is going on around them. World events don’t always concern the likes of an old peasant woman like me. But they often affect my man or people I care about. Some of the points being talked about by your Charles and the others in Parliament I’m in agreement with.”
Jocelyn stared to hear Maggie speak so knowledgeably about the issues.
“You look surprised,” laughed Maggie. “Did you think I would say that women should do nothing but tend their flowers, like I do, and shouldn’t be up on what the world’s about, or never voice their opinions?”
“I don’t know. But I didn’t expect you to have sympathies with the suffragettes.”
“There is no approval within me for the women in London throwing eggs at the prime minister’s carriage. Those women will get no sympathy from me.”
“Now I’m confused, Maggie.”
“I expect Bobby and me do occasionally take the long way around the barn in what we’re trying to say. I suppose that comes from not being in much of a hurry. But sometimes the world does need to change. Young Master Charles used to come ’round quite often to tell us we needed to change with it.”
It was Maggie’s turn to smile—at the remembrance of Charles Rutherford’s attempts to get her and her husband in step with progress.
“And the world you two grew up in was different from ours,” she added. “Look how things were different in Bible times than they are now. God is always doing new things with his people. I think ’tis a good thing these days for women’s voices to be heard in the world. ’Tis the way they’re going about it that’s all wrong. They’re not letting men lead. They’re forgetting the roles God gave us all. The glory of a woman is in service, not seizing rights. ’Tis the same as a man’s glory—laying down his life for others.”
“But how can women get the vote and make their voices heard without the work of the suffragettes, without insisting on it?”
“Maybe it will help to tell you a little game I play with myself when I’m wanting something or the other. I say—what might be the good to come of trusting my Bobby to see to it?”
“What does that have to do with women’s rights?”
“How do you think those uppity suffragette women with their obsession with women’s rights would react to the Scripture verses we’ve been talking about?”
Jocelyn smiled at the very idea. “I doubt they would pay the slightest attention to them.”
“Or they’d be offended by the suggestion that they mean anything at all,” rejoined Maggie. “They would either ignore them or say they mean something different than what they say. People are so hasty to rewrite the Bible when they don’t like what it says.”
“But I want to hear about your mental game.”
“All right, dear—what might happen if women in England asked what might be the good to come of this situation if they trusted the men to see to it? What if they said, ‘Men, do what is best. Not only that—do what is best for us . . . for women. We place ourselves in your hands. We will trust you. If you want us to vote, we’ll vote. If you don’t want us to vote, we’ll be content.’”
“The suffragettes wouldn’t go along with that for a second!” laughed Jocelyn. “It would sound like nonsense to them.”
“But what if they did?” persisted Maggie. “Might it not all turn out for the best in the end? Don’t you think men would get around eventually to seeing the wisdom of women voting, just as they gave laborers the vote?”<
br />
“I don’t know,” said Jocelyn thoughtfully. “It’s not a thing I’ve ever considered. Your game comes at the situation from such an opposite angle than most people do. Rather than insisting on having something your way, you leave the decision in somebody else’s hands.”
She paused, still turning the notion over in her brain. “Do you really think it would happen?” she said. “Do you really think Parliament might end up giving women the vote without the suffragettes at all?”
“I do,” nodded Maggie. “Perhaps even sooner than with the women causing such a fuss. But even if not, might we not gain more by trust than the vote is worth anyway, by living as the Bible says? All this grasping these women like the Pankhursts are doing—it’s just wrong.”
“And you think that can be brought into a marriage too?”
“’Tis the same principle between a man and a wife. Husband, do what you think is best for me.”
“What if a man is selfish and doesn’t do what is best for the woman, or doesn’t even try?”
“Surely, your Charles—”
“Of course. My Charles is always thinking of me. But in trying to understand this, I only wonder what women are supposed to do who don’t have husbands like Charles, or like your Bobby. What about poor Mrs. Blakeley in the village who is married to a drunk? I can’t imagine that God expects her to do whatever Rune Blakeley says.”
“Instead of doing what the Bible says, a lot of folks look around to see why other people should or shouldn’t be doing something. That keeps them from thinking about their own responsibility. Each person has their own story and their own life to live. I can’t say what God might be wanting Mrs. Blakeley to do. ’Tis a hard question. But I’m sure God will bless her if she finds what she can trust even in such a man as that.”
“It’s hard to think there could be anything.”
“Even the worst of men are still created in God’s image. Such a wife has the opportunity to trust God’s wisdom to work good out of what she does find to trust in her husband. Maybe the man doesn’t yet see his role properly. Maybe it will be her quiet trust that will help him see that strutting about like a rooster isn’t what God wants. Perhaps her trust can help him see that he’s to be a servant to his family.”
“I’m not sure I could trust that much,” admitted Jocelyn. “I can’t imagine how hard it would be to live with a man like Rune Blakeley.”
Maggie smiled as if she knew more than she was telling.
“’Tis easy to find reasons not to trust men. Any crabby, critical woman without an ounce of sense can do that. But it takes a woman of insight and maturity to trust a man even when his trustworthiness may be hard to see. I don’t know about you, Jocelyn, dear, but I want to be a wise daughter of God, not a grumpy one. If men have faults, and they all do, it’s God’s job to change them, not ours. In truth, ’tis more a question of trusting God to work through the man than trusting the man himself. People will always let us down, but God never will. So we can always trust God to work through our husbands for us, faults and all.”
“The suffragettes wouldn’t like that statement much either,” laughed Jocelyn.
“No doubt. But how many of them are trying to become quiet, humble daughters of God?”
A lengthy silence followed. The afternoon’s shadows had begun to fall over the cottage. No more rays from the sun shone through into Maggie’s kitchen.
“Then what am I to do?” asked Jocelyn at length.
“If your heart is open, God will lead you right. You can trust him. When God said that man was to be woman’s head and that a wife would be subject to her husband, he was laying out the easiest path for the two of them to walk. It takes both of them to walk it together. You’re doing the right thing looking in the holy book to find out what you’re supposed to do. That’s part of this road you and your dear husband are now on. When you come across something you don’t understand, you ask, ‘What is there here for me? Do I need to do some changing?’”
“That’s exactly what Timothy Diggorsfeld says.”
“A good man,” Maggie said. “Now, dear, you just keep reading, looking into the Proverbs to remind yourself how to behave every day and into the Gospels to see how Jesus told us to live and be. And look to what Paul wrote to the churches to see the advice he gave to new Christians with questions.”
Jocelyn smiled with admiration for this woman. Maggie had such wisdom and peace.
“The day is drawing down upon us,” Jocelyn said. “My three young ones, especially Catharine, will be frantic for my presence. It is time for me to get back to the Hall.”
Jocelyn stood and hugged the old woman. “Thank you so much. I will think and pray about everything you’ve told me.”
She paused, then smiled as a memory suddenly returned to her from two weeks earlier.
“I had a dream about you, Maggie,” she said. “It just came back to me. I was in school, and you were my teacher. It was just like today.”
Maggie smiled. She was content in her life. She had been for years. But it was especially wonderful to be able to be part of this younger woman’s growth.
A few minutes later, Maggie stood watching at the door of the cottage as Jocelyn disappeared through the forest. Bobby approached quietly. He drew alongside her and placed his arm about her.
“’Tis a blessing, indeed, eh, Maggie,” he said. “’Tis glad I am that we lived long enough t’ be able t’ watch this new life growing inside the two o’ them.”
59
Husband and Wife
Three weeks had passed since Jocelyn’s visit to the cottage. Now Charles and Jocelyn were both on their knees in their heather garden, setting in several new small plants. It was late on a Saturday afternoon.
“There,” Charles said with satisfaction as he scooped in the last of the dirt around the small bush and patted it snugly down. “Next July we shall see the flowers of our labor.”
Both fell silent.
“Lord,” he began to pray softly, as had become their custom whenever they were here, “once again we lift up our three dear young ones to you. Draw them all in their own unique way, to your heart. Especially do we pray for Amanda. Continue to nurture the garden of her character, that the seeds of your truth will one day germinate within her. Nourish her soil, that when they do, they will sprout strong and take deep root. May they grow and flourish and bear fruit as she comes to know you as we have come to know you. Keep her in your care, Lord. Protect her. Be a Father to her.”
He stopped. Jocelyn murmured a quiet amen but did not pray further.
Slowly they slipped back from their knees into a sitting position and remained seated for a while, contemplating their day’s efforts.
“Actually,” said Jocelyn at length, “I’ve been thinking more about us lately than I have about Amanda.”
“Why us?”
“I came across an interesting verse in my Bible reading a couple of weeks ago that started me thinking about many new things.”
“I am immediately curious,” said Charles.
“I went and talked to Maggie about it.”
Again it was silent. Charles could tell Jocelyn’s mind was heavy with something she wanted to say, but she seemed to have difficulty expressing it. He waited patiently.
“You know, Charles,” she said at length, “as good a marriage as we have, we’re not really functioning in all ways like a husband and wife are supposed to—a Christian husband and wife.”
“How do you mean?”
“We’re too much in step with the times in which we live.”
“I don’t see what the problem is with that.”
“Our being modern individuals, and more or less progressive in our outlook, has caused us to think of ourselves too much as equals, as if the marriage is a partnership, a democracy.”
“Isn’t it?”
“That’s not the biblical pattern.”
“What?”
Jocelyn quoted the verse from Ephesians, which
by now she knew from memory.
“So you see,” she concluded, “—you’re supposed to be my head. I’m to be subject to you. You’re to rule, to be the head of the marriage and family. You’ll have to admit, it’s not a very reformist-sounding arrangement.”
“I am head of this family,” he said.
“Of course you are. But I think there’s more that’s called for from you.”
“Such as?”
“Perhaps . . . more assertive headship.”
“But I don’t want to rule you.”
“Even if God wants you to?”
“You can’t really want me to do that.”
“Yes, I really think I do.”
“What woman would want that?”
“I do.”
“But, Jocelyn, I’ve given my professional life fighting against this very sort of thing—one person being over another. Now you’re suggesting such an arrangement in my own home. What would my colleagues in Parliament think!” Charles could not help laughing.
“But it’s there in black and white,” rejoined Jocelyn, pulling herself to her feet and walking over to the small bench where her Bible lay. Opening it to the passage she’d marked, she handed it to Charles. “See, it’s right there. So I think we have no choice but to want it, if we want to obey God. Besides, I trust you. I know you will only do what you think is in my best interest.”
“But why do we need any change?” Charles continued to protest. “You and I’ve always had a totally agreeable relationship. When questions come up, we talk and arrive at a consensus. I have no complaints. I like you just as you are. I like our marriage the way it is.”
“Maybe on the outside I’ve been compliant, Charles,” said Jocelyn, more seriously this time. “I never knew there was anything missing. But talking with Maggie revealed to me that some of my attitudes haven’t been all they should be. You should have heard me, talking to her! I flared up and said I wanted to rule my own life. I surprised myself, Charles. I have harbored an independent streak without even knowing it. And this week, praying about it, I’ve realized I don’t want that for our life together.”
Wild Grows the Heather in Devon Page 29
