Wild Grows the Heather in Devon

by Michael Phillips

  Jocelyn nodded in agreement.

  “I stress this so heavily,” said Timothy, “because without this how-does-it-apply-to-me and what-do-you-want-me-to-do dialogue with the Lord, as I said, the Bible becomes a worthless book to you. Its principles are of no value whatever unless they are put into practice. It is this pragmatic obedience that forms the essence of living and growing as a Christian.”

  But these words! now thought Jocelyn, trying to reconcile this startling passage with Diggorsfeld’s instructions. Were they to be put into practice in this modern day and age?

  The words she had read that had set her mind in motion the day before yesterday were from the fifth chapter of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians: “For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church. . . . Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be subject to their own husbands in every thing.”

  The words had startled her. They seemed to go against everything her husband had fought for so long, that she herself had come to believe. After all, this was the year 1899. A new century would soon dawn. Men like her own husband were speaking of true equality between the sexes, and women were pushing for the vote. It seemed like such a positive direction for the world to go. Could God really want it to move the other way?

  But there were those words again: women were to be subject to their husbands. To be subject to their husbands . . . in every thing. As if the husband were the absolute monarch and the wife had no say whatsoever. Why, even the queen of England no longer had that power over her subjects!

  But as the words from the apostle Paul had circulated through her brain, so too had those of Timothy Diggorsfeld. She had prayed, “I truly don’t understand this, Lord. It sounds like something from feudal times. I don’t see how it can possibly apply to my life with Charles right now.” But with this confession came the question the pastor had taught her to ask: “Lord, what changes do you want to make in my life? Do you want me to grow from this? What do you want me to do?”

  Then this morning Jocelyn had come across another passage which, while not answering her questions about the first, showed her where to go for help. It was from Paul’s letter to Titus. The words read, “The aged women, likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness . . . teachers of good things; that they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed.”

  It was now midafternoon. Jocelyn set aside the copy of Cornhill magazine, in which she had been casually reading a profile of the suffragette leader Emmeline Pankhurst, and opened her Bible again to the book of Titus. She read through the words that had been with her all day.

  What do you have for me here, Lord? What is it you want me to see?

  Almost the same instant it became clear—older women, younger women . . . older women whose behavior is reverent should teach the younger women.

  Older women should teach younger women how to love and be obedient to their husbands!

  If she wanted to know what the verse in Ephesians meant about wives being subject to their husbands, she should ask an “older” and more mature Christian woman. The words from Titus could hardly be more clear.

  That’s what she would do, thought Jocelyn.

  The next minute she had risen from her chair and was on her way downstairs. After making arrangements with the staff for the afternoon, she would pay a visit to Maggie McFee.

  57

  God’s Daughters

  An hour later the two women of God were seated together at Maggie McFee’s plain deal table in the kitchen of Heathersleigh Cottage. Light streamed through the window. A fragrant clump of colorful flowers from Maggie’s garden sat in the center of the table in a slender earthenware vase.

  Jocelyn and Charles had walked and ridden over to this warm and beloved home many times in the two years since the older couple had gently guided them into the family of faith. They had talked many things over with Bobby and Maggie. They had prayed together and read the Scriptures together and discussed dozens of questions.

  But the walk to the McFee cottage on this particular day was one Jocelyn Rutherford had had to make alone. What was on her mind she had to resolve on her own, as a woman. She knew she could only do so in the presence of another woman who had journeyed the same road.

  Much had changed during the two years since Bobby and Maggie had explained to them what it meant to become intimate members of God’s family. Everything had changed.

  But in her spirit Jocelyn sensed that perhaps another change was coming that would probe yet deeper into the marrow of her personal feminine identity.

  As they sipped at their tea, Jocelyn explained why she had come. “You see, Maggie,” she concluded, “the one Scripture explains why I am here to ask you about the other two—the one in Ephesians which started me thinking, and the verse in Genesis I ran across later.”

  “And they are hard for you to understand, is that it?”

  “I don’t suppose they are so difficult to understand,” replied Jocelyn. “The words are straightforward enough. But do they really apply today? The one in Genesis three says husbands are to rule their wives. It’s such a strong word, it startled me. I didn’t know what to make of it. That’s not really the way it’s supposed to be, is it . . . not now?”

  “And why not?”

  “I don’t know . . . it’s so outdated. It sounds old-fashioned, from another time and culture. I didn’t think of Christianity as such an archaic religion.”

  “It’s not,” replied Maggie, “and neither is it a religion. ’Tis a way of life.”

  “Husbands . . . rule their wives. I’ve never heard of such a thing—at least not among enlightened people. Why, men aren’t better than women.”

  “Of course not, dear,” laughed Maggie. “But what makes you say such words? You and Charles aren’t . . . you aren’t unhappy with your life?”

  “Oh no. Charles has always been very gracious to me. He treats me entirely as an equal. These verses just confuse me!”

  “Men aren’t better,” said Maggie. “They’ve just a different job to do. It has nothing to do with better or worse. ’Tis what God made them to be, and what he made us to be. He set in motion a plan for husbands and wives to work together in a way that is wonderful and full of harmony.”

  “But . . . be subject in every thing? That’s so severe. It sounds almost . . . like slavery.”

  Maggie laughed.

  “There is the word right there in Ephesians,” Jocelyn went on. “It’s hard to ignore it.”

  “Right you are. ’Tis impossible to ignore.”

  “I don’t like the sound of it.”

  “Many women recoil from such a suggestion,” said Maggie.

  “Don’t you?” asked Jocelyn in astonishment.

  “Heavens no, dear. Haven’t you learned yet that in the ways of God, everything is different than it seems through the world’s eyes? It just may be that the kind of slavery the old apostle is describing here is really freedom. Besides, I love my Bobby, and my heavenly Father, enough to even be Bobby’s slave if that’s what God asks of me. I find nothing so terrible about slavery if it has a higher purpose, if it’s part of God’s plan. Didn’t Paul talk about being a slave to Christ? No, dear, the evil’s not in the slavery, so much as in our rebellious hearts.”

  Jocelyn had come here for instruction. But she found unexpected objections and annoyances rising up within her at this new idea of being told to occupy a role subordinate to her husband. The article she had just been reading had stressed that women would be asserting themselves more and more as the new century approached. She had read it casually, more from curiosity than anything, not feeling a great deal of sympathy for the women’s causes being espoused. However, she now found many of its points coming back to her mind. They had struck deeper root than she’d realized.

  Her natural servant�
��s heart had led her into nursing. Yet it had been entirely her own decision. The same was true of her life with Charles—she chose to run his household and take care of his children.

  Now here were hints in new and uncomfortable directions—toward relinquishing the right to make such choices and determinations for herself. Maggie hadn’t said as much, it was true. But that was what Jocelyn felt was implied by the gist of the discussion—that Charles had the right to make her decisions for her and to tell her what to do.

  Not that he showed any inclination to do so. Charles was too thoroughly a modern for that. But what if he did? How would she respond? What if he told her to do something she didn’t want to do? What if he pointed out some aspect of her character or behavior that he wanted her to change?

  Suddenly Jocelyn didn’t like the sound of what Maggie was saying. She didn’t particularly enjoy how it felt, and she wasn’t sure she liked the implied consequences. It was fine when Charles built her up and helped her believe in herself. She appreciated his kind, gracious, loving side. But what if he suddenly decided to exercise this headship Maggie was talking about in uncomfortable directions? He had already shown himself capable of doing so when she had objected to his giving his heart to the Lord. Even then, however, his direct words to her had only been to convince her how much God loved her. What if he said or did something that wasn’t so pleasant? Did she want such personal counsel from him, or did she want to be left alone to decide herself what was best for her life?

  “I thought we were all equal,” she said after a moment’s pause. Maggie detected a slight edge creeping into her tone.

  “Oh, we are, Jocelyn, dear,” she replied. “Equal—we’re all that, surely, in God’s sight. But what’s that got to do with a husband ruling over his wife?”

  “If one person’s ruling over the other, they can hardly be equal.”

  “Of course they can, dear.”

  “What gives Charles the right to rule over me?”

  “Why, God does. And it’s really not slavery, dear, but God’s chosen method. ’Tis a relationship of equal partnership, where one person has been given the responsibility to lead, or rule, and the other has the responsibility of helping and following. ’Tis nothing more complicated than that.”

  “It hardly sounds like an equal arrangement—when one person is above another.”

  “’Tis the common snag that untrusting wives insist on stumbling over. Not to say that you’re untrusting, Jocelyn, dear—only that it’s a common reaction of our kind.”

  Jocelyn was silent. She was stumbling over it.

  “Then please, Maggie, explain it to me,” she said. “I want to understand. And I want Charles and me to be like you and Bobby. I always feel such peace when we come here. But I have to admit that I’ve never thought of any of this before. How there can still be equality if a man’s supposed to rule over a woman? I’ve never seen Bobby lording it over you.”

  Maggie laughed.

  “Ruling over a wife doesn’t mean lording it over her,” she said. “God has just given us women and men different roles to live out, different ways to go about in life, that’s all. We truly are equal in his sight. He loves every human creature as much as any other. Nobody’s better or superior to anyone else. But we’re not all to do the same thing. Women are supposed to trust men to look out for them, that’s all. ’Tis the woman’s job to trust her husband to make good decisions. Her belief in him gives them both the freedom to do what they do best, without the woman trying to take over a man’s role or grasping to be something she’s not intended to be.”

  “What is it a woman does best?” asked Jocelyn.

  “To live as man’s helper. ’Tis the woman who’s to help the man and be part of his life, not have a life of her own. The man’s not called the woman’s helpmeet, but the woman’s the man’s.”

  It was quiet a moment. Jocelyn glanced down to the table, where her Bible sat open to the passage in Ephesians that had begun this new mental inquiry several days earlier. She drew in several deep breaths, trying to calm her inner protests and put herself back into a listening mentality.

  “So how do you be subject to your husband?” she finally asked.

  “’Tis an attitude,” replied Maggie. “It’s got more to do with a woman’s outlook than with anything special to be done. . . .”

  Even as Maggie said the words, Jocelyn understood what she meant. To all outward appearances, and probably in Charles’ mind as well, she herself would have seemed to be a perfectly content, compliant, and submissive wife. Yet Maggie’s words on this day had uncovered regions hidden deep in her own heart which squirmed at the thought of being ruled by someone else.

  “—an outlook about herself as much as anything,” Maggie added.

  “Herself . . . rather than her husband?”

  “Of course, dear. I’m sorry to say it, but it just comes so easy for us human folk to get grasping and independent—men as well as women, but women for certain. We listen to the world telling all sorts of lies about what it means to be a woman. The papers and magazines and streets of London are full of the cries of modern women these days. It’s all about us—all this talk of women’s rights. We can’t help listening to it. Then we start worrying about everything around us, wanting what we want. And as soon as a woman starts down that pathway, the wife’s natural calling begins to feel strange to her. If she listens to what everyone is saying, her self won’t like what the Bible says.”

  “What natural calling do you mean?” asked Jocelyn.

  “To fit under her husband’s headship . . . to allow him to lead her. ’Tis an attitude, like I said, a nongrasping, nonindependent attitude. And that’s why it’s something we wives have to resolve ourselves. It’s nothing anyone—not a man nor another woman either—can do for us. We each have to face it in our own heart.”

  “I see what you mean.”

  “I suppose what it comes down to is not insisting on ruling your own affairs. That’s a struggle for most of us.”

  “Surely not for you, Maggie.”

  “I have my own struggles, like anyone else,” replied the older woman thoughtfully. “We’re all of different stations, and with different roads to walk, facing different things, and with different husbands ruling over us. But we’re all women together. There are things we’ve all got to lay down and put to rest. God didn’t place us on this earth to manage our own affairs. We all have to wrestle the Lord with that, like old Jacob.”

  Jocelyn considered her words. “I don’t suppose that’s easy,” she said.

  “Easy!” repeated Maggie with a tone between a humph and a laugh. “No it’s not easy. Laying down your independence and saying you’re not going to rule your own life is the hardest thing in the world. But then ’tis the only thing we’re put on earth to learn. And men have to learn it just as well as women. ’Tis the human way to salvation, as I see it—laying down the right to self-rule.”

  “Men have to learn it too?”

  “Of course. All human creatures have to learn it. ’Tis just that God gives men and women different ways to learn it. Women have to learn it by laying down their independence toward their husbands. Men have to learn it by laying down their independence toward themselves and toward God. But the lessons God is trying to teach us in our stubborn human hearts is the same lesson for everyone—not to trust ourselves, but to trust in our heavenly Father and those folks he places above us. Nothing could be simpler. But easy—no, Jocelyn, dear—’tis a hard lesson to learn. It takes us all our lives, and we barely begin to learn it then.”

  “So how can we learn the lesson?”

  “For our kind—women, I mean—one of the first things is to recognize that being God’s daughter changes everything about what it means to be a woman. We’ve got to get it into our heads that it’s completely different than the grasping kind of thing the world encourages. ’Tis what it means to be subject—we must let men be our heads. ’Tis a change in the way we see ourselves. It might be
something few people ever see. But in our hearts we, as wives, recognize that we are no longer independent agents. Everything about our lives goes through our husbands.”

  Jocelyn considered her words. A remnant of her independent self again flared up from the past, piqued by Maggie’s words.

  “But I don’t know if I want what you say,” she objected. “I want to be my own independent agent. I didn’t get married to have someone else tell me what to do.”

  “Do you trust your husband?”

  “Yes . . . I think so.”

  “Aren’t you willing to take the difficult along with the pleasant?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How fair is it of you,” said Maggie pointedly, “if you want him to say only nice things to you, but you aren’t willing to listen when he has a word of instruction or advice that may not be pleasant?”

  Jocelyn stared down at the table. Maggie knew how to be direct.

  “You took your husband’s name,” the older woman went on. “You allow him to support you. You became part of him, not him you. What did it mean that you took his name if it didn’t imply relinquishing something of your identity and independence into him?”

  “Yes, I took his name, but I didn’t mean to relinquish who I am.”

  “This is the way to find who you are, Jocelyn dear. What looks like relinquishment is the doorway into discovering your complete self.”

  “How can that be?”

  “You yourself have told me how Charles has already done that for you. You are walking in intimacy with God now because of Charles’ very love for you.”

  Jocelyn nodded.

  “I’ve heard Charles speak lovingly to you. You yourself told me how he helped you believe in your worth and accept your birthmark as a sign of God’s love.”

  “Yes . . . he’s helped me in a hundred ways. He’s a very loving and caring man.”

  “One thing you will discover the longer you live and grow as a Christian is that most things are upside down from how they are in the world. Nowhere could it be more true than right here. Sometimes what looks like a giving up of freedom is actually the way to more blessing in the end. But it can’t be seen until it is done in obedience. The dying has to come first. Then are the eyes open to behold the blessing that comes from it. But if you wait to obey until you understand what might be the result, it will never happen.”