A New Dawn Over Devon (28 page)

 46 
Betsy and Sister Hope

Watching from an upstairs window, Jocelyn Rutherford smiled as she saw Betsy outside below on the edge of the lawn. The girl had such a way with animals. She was now slowly inching her way toward a rabbit standing at the edge of the woods. Jocelyn had overheard her on several occasions, talking quietly to birds and sheep and rabbits, even little snails, in a soft voice different than she used for anyone else. She was no doubt speaking in her quiet animal-talk voice now, thought Jocelyn as she watched Betsy creep gently closer with hand outstretched.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jocelyn saw Sister Hope walking out from the house.

Hope paused ten or fifteen feet from the door when she realized what Betsy was trying to do.

The two stood still for several moments. Then Betsy seemed to become aware of the presence behind her. She turned and glanced back toward where Hope stood watching. As she did the rabbit scampered into the woods.

“I'm sorry I frightened your rabbit,” said Sister Hope, now walking toward her again.

“That's all right,” said Betsy. “He will come back.”

“How do you know?” asked Hope as she approached.

“Because I have been making friends with him, and he lets me come a little closer every day. I tell him he has nothing to be afraid of.”

“Do you talk to all the animals?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think the little rabbit understands you?” asked Hope.

“I don't know,” replied Betsy. “But I think he likes the sound of my voice.”

“I'm sure he does. I've noticed that you like animals.”

“They are my friends.”

Hope took Betsy's hand, and they began walking toward the heather garden together.

“We have many animals where I live,” said Sister Hope.

“Where is that?” asked Betsy.

“I live in the mountains of Switzerland called the Alps. Do you know where that is?”

Betsy shook her head. “What kinds of animals do you have?” she asked.

“We have chickens and goats, and two donkeys and three cows—”

“Oh, I would like to see the donkeys!” interrupted Betsy.

Hope laughed. “I am sure you would love them. But donkeys can sometimes be naughty.”

“I would be so nice to them they would not want to be naughty.”

Again Hope laughed. She was quickly falling in love with this girl!

“Perhaps you could come visit and help us take care of them.”

“Oh, may I, may I . . . please!” exclaimed Betsy. “I would take good care of them!”

“One of the women who lives with me, a lady named Galiana, loves animals just like you do. She makes sure that they are all well cared for. She feeds them every day and gives them nice fresh straw to sleep on. But sometimes she needs help, and whenever she must go away, then the animals need a friend because they miss her.”

“I would be their friend.”

“I am sure you would be,” smiled Hope.

“I like cows too, but they don't seem to notice when I talk to them. When may I come?”

Hope laughed. “We shall see,” she said. “It is a very, very long way.”

They entered the garden. Hope led her to one of the benches and they sat down.

“What is that in your hand, Betsy?” she asked.

“A picture of my mother,” replied the girl. “Would you like to see her?”

“Yes, I would.”

Betsy handed her the small stained photograph.

“She is very pretty,” said Hope. “You look like her, Betsy.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do.”

“My father said she was a good lady, but I cannot remember her. Are you anyone's mother?”

“No, Betsy,” smiled Hope. “I have no children.”

“I wish you were my mother.”

The words took Hope by surprise.

“What about Lady Rutherford?” she asked.

“I love Lady Jocelyn. But she already has two girls.”

“She loves you very much.”

“I want a mother who doesn't have a daughter and wants me for one.”

A stab went into Hope's heart at the words. She glanced away, a sudden lump rising in her throat.

“For as long as I am with you,” she said, reaching her arm around Betsy and drawing her close, “I will be as much a mother to you as I can be, Betsy dear.”

They sat in contented silence. Gradually Hope began softly to sing a hymn. As she did she felt Betsy relax against her and snuggle imperceptibly closer. She continued to sing.

Christ our Redeemer died on the cross,

Died for the sinner, paid all his due.

Sprinkle your soul with the blood of the Lamb,

And I will pass over you.

When I see the blood, when I see the blood,

I will pass, I will pass over you.

Chiefest of sinners, Jesus will save,

All He has promised that He will do.

Wash in the fountain opened for sin,

And I will pass over you.

When I see the blood, when I see the blood,

I will pass, I will pass over you.

Judgment is coming, all will be there,

Each one receiving justly his due.

Hide in the saving sin-cleansing blood

And I will pass over you.

When I see the blood, when I see the blood,

I will pass, I will pass over you.

O great compassion! O boundless love!

O loving kindness, faithful and true!

Find peace and shelter under the blood,

And I will pass over you.

When I see the blood, when I see the blood,

I will pass, I will pass over you.

When she stopped, Betsy was breathing deeply and Hope realized she was sound asleep.

Tears filled Hope's eyes, and she continued to sit unmoving, the motherless girl sleeping happily in her embrace.

 47 
Inquisition

The two women and one man walking along Bloomsbury were not smiling.

They were on business too sacred and important for smiles. It had been five days since their fateful meeting together. Sometimes the Lord's work was unpleasant, but they, his appointed guardians of truth, must take on the unpleasant task of separating the wheat from the chaff in order that the flock under their care not be misled.

They walked to the door of the parsonage of New Hope Chapel and sounded the knocker.

Timothy answered. His smile and greeting were returned by cold stares and nods. He recognized them all, and knew from their faces that they were not bearing happy tidings.

“Please, come in,” he said warmly.

The three followed him inside, the man of the triumvirate puffing from the exertion of the walk.

He sat down stiffly. One of the women also joined him. The other preferred to stand.

“Would you care for some tea, Mrs. Packer?” asked Timothy.

“That will not be necessary.”

“And you, Mrs. Paulus . . . Mr. Roul?”

The treasurer and chairman both shook their heads. It was uncomfortable enough having the man be nice to them. They wanted to get their business over and done with as soon as possible.

The initial discussion was brief and formal. They presented the charges, which were brief and comprised chiefly of the four points upon which they felt they could make an ouster stick. Although their objections to his theology were many, the four points raised were that the minister had expressed a hope that animals would share in the life to come, that his teachings on the Sabbath and tithing were suspect, that he had given it as a scriptural possibility that some provision may exist for the heathen after death, and finally that in general his ideas were tainted with liberal theology.

Following were listed many minor points that some in the congregation, notably two prominent deacons and their wives, were reported to have raised.

When Timothy finished reading the text that had been put before him, he looked around at his visitors and could not help breaking into a smile, which was followed by a laugh of incredulity.

“You cannot actually be serious?” he said.

“I am afraid we see no humor in the matter, Mr. Diggorsfeld,” replied Mrs. Packer, who had refused the chair he had offered, drawing herself up in an offended manner, which, with her hair in a great bun on top of her head, made her appear almost six and a half feet in height. “These are highly serious matters of great import. We must protect the flock and preserve doctrinal truth.” It was clear from her expression that she was not about to flinch in the face of adversity, and that Timothy's character and simple honesty would not move her an inch.

“But these statements are so exaggerated as to be not representative of truth at all,” said Timothy.

“You do not consider yourself a liberal?”

“Not only do I not
consider
myself one, I am
not
a liberal.”

“What are you, then?”

“I hope I am a disciple of Jesus Christ. Beyond that, I do not care for labels.”

“Are you an evangelical?”

“As I said, I do not care for the label. But I will consent to it for your sake—yes, I am an evangelical.”

“Do you consider yourself conservative on the major doctrines of the historic church?”

“I do.”

“And yet you hold to such views as outlined here?” said Chairman Roul, speaking for the first time.

“As I indicated, most of what is written here is so exaggerated and unfounded as to be preposterous. So I don't know how to answer your question. We could take them point by point, but I am not certain that would accomplish a great deal. I will not defend myself. If it is enlightenment you want into my beliefs, as much as I can provide that without defense, I will try to oblige you. Let me respond, therefore, by saying that I do not try to be conservative or liberal. I try to find and live by the truth of the Bible. If others choose to interpret that quest for truth according to certain labels of their devising, that is not something I can prevent. But labels generally do not well serve the search for truth.”

“But you
are
an evangelical?”

“Being an evangelical does not mean I do not think. That is the one thing I always try to get my people to do—following, as I see it, the example of our Lord who did exactly the same with his disciples. I realize that many in ecclesiastical leadership are threatened by free and fresh thought. But where there is no
thinking
, I do not see how true faith can exist at all.”

“I must take exception to what you say,” said Roul.

Timothy nodded respectfully. “At what point, Mr. Roul, if I may inquire?”

“That people should be encouraged to think,” he replied. “Any minister who believes that is doomed to fail in the pastorate. It is for theologians to outline the doctrines of truth and then present those doctrines to the people in a simplified manner that they can understand.”

“Where in Scripture, if I might ask, did you come up with such an idea?”

“People are not capable of accurately dividing the word of truth,” answered Roul, avoiding Timothy's question.

“Then you have less faith in the human mind of God's creation than I do. God
wants
thinking men and women searching for truth in his Word, not swallowing the traditions of the elders without asking which are right and which are wrong.”

The chairman paused briefly as he wrote down Timothy's statement, then looked up again.

“What, then, is your role as their pastor?” he went on. “It does not appear that you do much for the people if you intend to leave them floundering without direction.”

“Is that what I said?” replied Timothy. “I prefer to see my role as pointing them to faith, and encouraging them in the living of that faith.”

“How do you accomplish that?”

“In many ways. One of those ways is to teach and encourage them to ask questions, as I said, to think, and to go both to the Bible and their heavenly Father for answers.”

The three looked around at one another with knowing glances. More notations were added to the growing inventory of incriminating quotes.

“But not to teach them the doctrines of the church?”

“It is my duty,” responded Timothy, “to teach the truths of the New Testament and the teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

A brief pause followed. Mrs. Packer now decided to drive straight into the crux of the matter with no more beating around the bush.

“What about the charge that you deny the importance of Jesus Christ and the cross for salvation?” she asked.

“It is untrue.”

“There are those who say that you look to the Father for salvation.”

“I do, exactly as did Jesus Christ himself.”

“So you consider the Father more important than Christ for salvation?”

“I consider that our salvation lies in the love of the Father. It was to take us to that love that Jesus came to earth, that he died, and that he rose again, in order that we might know salvation in the Father's love and forgiveness and be one with him.”

“Upon what do you base such an unorthodox view?”

“Upon the words of our Lord himself.”

“Do you consider Jesus Christ the source of salvation?”

“He is the door to our salvation.”

“But I insist that you tell me—what do you consider the
source
of salvation?”

“The love of God.”

A long silence followed, during which the chairman and Mrs. Packer made a few additional notes.