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MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS-IN-LAW
Tabernacle Sermon by Reb. Len G. ‘Broughton, < D. t D.
Stenographically reported for The Golden Age.—Copyright applied for.
Third in a Series of Sermons on "An Ancient
Lobe Story ” —Ruth, the Moabitess.
Text: Ruth I:l6.—“And Ruth said, Intreat me not
to leave thee, or to return from following after thee:
for whither thou goest I will go; and where thou
lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people,
and thy God, my God.”
HE relation of mother-in-law is not al
ways an easy one. It’is often a delicate
and intricate one. Every mother-in-law
knows that she is under observation and
the subject of suspicion. Naturally, she
knows from her experience of others,
that when she becomes a mother-in-law
that she is suspected of all sorts of
faults; and the slightest action on her
M
part brings down upon her head the unkindest crit
icism; then, too, she knows that she is the jest and
the joke of every cheap wit and cynic in the com
munity. If all the cheap jokes that have been told
concerning the mother-in-law and her position weie
gathered into one volume it would be one of the lar
gest books you ever saw, though much of it would be
repetition. And then, too, her position as the moth
er-in-law is a very hard one; it is hard for her to be
always just and considerate, for there is at stake
the welfare of her own heart-blood. It is absolutely
impossible for a mother, just because her daughtei
or sbn is married, to lose all interest in their welfare.
The fact that there has been a marriage in the home
does not destroy the mother’s interest and the moth
er’s concern, and the mother's affection. There is
no way of destroying that; there is nothing that the
child can do that will destroy it. The mother heart
goes after the boy out in the world of sin; goes aftei
the girl after she has fallen in sin and disgrace;
when everybody else turns their backs; and yet she
is expected the very moment that marriage takes
place to lose all interest or to cease all manifesta
tion of interest in her offspring; she is not to show
by look or word that she sees, when anything goes
wrong.
MOTHER NEVER FORGETS.
I remember sometime ago I was calling on a
mother whose son, the only child, was announced to be
married. 1 said to this mother, “I see your son is
going to marry soon?” There was a quiver in her
lips and then the tears began to start from her eyes,
and I said, “Why are you weeping?” and after she
could control herself she said, “Not because he is
going to be married; I want him to marry; not be
cause of the girl he is going to marry; I think he is
going to marry well; but,” then there was another
quiver on her lips and a tremor in her voice, It will
never be the same again.” She knew that marriage
was going to bring a change; a necessary change,
and he would cease to be the boy that he had been
to her, and the thought was full of grief to her moth
er-heart. It is impossible for a mother to lose that
heart longing for her child and her child’s welfare. I
remember a story that has come down in our home,
told me by my mother and grand-mother many a
time. It was at the battle of Gettysburg during the
Civil War. An officer who was wounded and who
lived in the same community in which my father
lived, came home on a furlough, wounded, and he
stopped at my grand-mother’s house and told her
that my father was killed at the Battle of Gettys
burg; that he saw him when he fell; that he saw the
gaping wound in his head; that he never spoke a
word; that he was instantly killed; and that he had
come out of his way to tell my father’s people about
it. For a period of three months there was not the
slightest doubt in the home about his death. One
night after grandmother had retired and everybody
else was asleep, she heard a footstep on the porch
and she sprang to her feet, and before he had touch
ed the door-knob she said, “Gaston, is that you?”
“Yes, mother.” He had been taken as a prisoner and
locked in a Northern prison and had not been able
to communicate with his family for those three
The Golden Age for May 5, 1910.
months. A mother that can recognize the foot
steps of a supposed dead son can not lose her inter
est in the boy or girl just becaues he has got mar
ried; that interest lives, and yet there is a demand
that the mother must cease to manifest.that burn
ing passion of love and interest that ever dwells in
her heart when the child gets married. Os course,
they must manifest it when there is trouble on hand.
She must manifest it when there is sickness in the
home. She must sit up all night and nurse the sick
and care for the children and all that, but she must
not take a hand in other matters. That is an unjust
demand to make of any mother. If her son marries
a woman that is not considerate of him, that is not
interested in him, that does not care whether he
succeeds or fails except as she may share in the
profit thereof; if she is slovenly and does not look
after his needs, sew on his buttons and darn his
socks, do you think a real good old-fashioned and
loving mother is going to be content while she sees
that boy neglected, when he was never neglected in
her home? She ought to take a hand and I do not
blame any mother for doing it.
If her daughter marries a husband that is neg
lectful of her, that does not care for her, that does
not support her, that is not good to her as he prom
ised he would be and she had every right to ex
pect, if she should be so unfortunate as to marry a
man who will come heme to her drunk, do you think
a good, sure enough old-fashioned mother is going to
be still and see that child of hers suffer like that?
I read an account in the papers of just exactly how
I think that a mother-in-law ought to act under
those circumstances. She had a beautiful daughter,
the belle of her neighborhood; she had raised her
well; upon her she had lavished every care and in
terest and attention; the girl married and, as they
thought, married well; but she married a man whose
life was partly spent in the dark. He was a night
drinker. Three months after that he came home to
that sweet girl drunk; she had to go out the front
door and pull him up the steps and put him to bed.
The old mother saw it but she kept quiet; the won
der is that she did; but she never said a word
either to him or to her daughter until it was all over.
Next morning she went to her daughter’s husband
and asked for a moment alone with him. He said,
“What do you want, mother?” She said, “I want to
have a talk with you in the parlor.” He couldn't
well get out of it so he walked in, she shut the door
and said, “I am the mother of that sweet girl that
you married three months ago. I spent my best
upon that child. I have given her a good home and
it is hers now if she wants it; she will never be
turned out of it. I gave my consent to your marriage
of that girl thinking she was marrying a gentleman.”
He said, “Now, hold on; if you are going to talk to
me like that I am not going to stand it.” She said,
“Yes, you arp; or you are going to jump out of the
window or climb the chimney, for I have got the
key of that door.” He said, “Well, proceed.” “I will
proceed, and this is what I will proceed with. If you
ever come home to that girl any more like you did last
night that girl will leave this house and you will never
see her again.” That mother gave that man such a lec
ture that he wished never to have another, but some
time after that he again came home in the same con
dition and this time proceeded to raise a rough
house. The mother-in-law had him arrested, and
when he came up before the judge, do you know
what his plea was? “Too much mother-in-law.”
After hearing the case the judge said: “It strikes
me that your mother-in-law is the best thing that
ever eame to you, and instead of punishing you, I am
just going to turn you over to her.” I don’t know
how it ended, but I’ll venture the assertion if there
was anything good in that fellow, that mother-in
law brought it out.
I champion the mother-in-law’s rights; though
her child is married she still has her rights. I
know some mother-in-laws go too far and expect too
much and take too many privileges and it takes a
great deal of grace to put up with them, but it is my
candid judgment that tfiey are the worst slandered
and abused people on earth. The mother-in-law
has her rights. Her child’s happiness is at stake
and we can not blame her for taking a hand occa
sionally.
AN IDEAL MOTHER-IN-LAW.
Now the home relation of Naomi and her two daugh
ters-in-law is ideal. No wonder that it has attracted the
admiration and the talent of the greatest artists in
the world. No wonder it has found its place in mu
sic and in art. So great was the love that had grown
up between them, when Naomi heard that the Lord
had visited the land of Beth-Judah with plenty and
decided to return, both daughters decide to go with
her. As they journeyed Naomi perhaps began to
think about her past experience in- Moab; of her lone
liness as a stranger in that land, and that presented
a picture of these two girls, who were now on their
way to an unknown country, and she said to them,
“You had best return; you don’t need to stand what
I have stood; you had best return to your people and
spend your days in your own country,” and she be
gan to show them what they were undertaking, with
the result that Orphah decided to return and she,
with weeping, kissed her mother-in-law and then
turned her face toward Moab and her people, and
we never hear of her again.
But Ruth took the opposite course. She expresses
herself in these beautiful words, so familiar to us
all. “Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return
from following after thee: for whither thou goest I
will go; and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy
people shall be my people, and thy God, my God.”
There is to be found in all literature no more beauti
ful sentiment than this. There is no more beautiful
language with which sentiment can be clothed. Here
is the spirit that should dominate the ideal home;
the spirit of affection, the spirit of love, of loyalty, of
fidelity; the spirit of interest, the spirit of commun
ion. Here also is an illustration of the final triumph
of family religion. This girl was a heathen, a Moabit
ess, knowing nothing of the true God until she came
into the family of this good woman and she had lived
these years in this family under the most trying
circumstances; she had lived in this family in the
day of famine; she had lived in this family in the
day of want and hunger; she had lived in this family
in the day of death, trial and tribulation and lone
someness; she had lived here when husband is ta
ken and children are taken; Ruth saw Naomi under
these trying circumstances maintain her piety, and
she served her God in such away as to convince
her daughter-in-law that the God of Israel was the
God that she needed; the one God.
Do I speak to a mother- Are those in your home
saved? If not, are you right sure that your life be
fore them has been such as to win and woo them to
the Son of God? A friend of mine some years ago
gave me this story. He was coming from the far
North down to North Carolina to preach the com
mencement sermon at Wake Forest College and as
he came along the train something like fifty or sev
enty-five miles before he reached his destination, he
saw a man who looked very much as if he was in
trouble; a man of many years, with stooped shoul
ders and rough, rugged countenance, very prominent
cheek bones and heavy eye-brows. He noticed that the
man was very serious and even sad, and he slipped
over and sat down in the seat by him and said, “You
seem to be in trouble?” and he said, “it is none of
your business if I am.” “Weil,” the minister said,
“Perhaps I can help you. I am a minister.” “Well,
I had rather you would not talk to me. I don’t care
to talk about my troubles.” At a little station before
reaching Wake Forest this man got his grip and
walked out of the car. He watched him and saw him
stand for a moment, look around, speak to no one;
the train pulled off and the man was left standing,
simply gazing about. My friend went on and made
his stay at Wake Forest. When his engagement
there was over he got aboard his train and started
back to the North. As he neared the station
whei e the old man got off, he began wondering
again about him. The train stopped, the door of his
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