A Welcome Stranger

Ruth 1:1-17

 

The Book of Ruth is set during the time of the Judges, during the two hundred and fifty years or so between Moses who was the first judge and Saul, David and Solomon who were the first kings. It is set during the time of the Judges but it was written during the time after the Israelites returned from exile in Babylon. As such, it is a part of a library of books written during a 400 year period, from the people’s return from exile in Babylon to just after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in A.D. 70, books that debate Israel’s core identity.  As we have discussed over the last few weeks, the books of Nehemiah and Esther represent the argument that the best thing for God’s people to do is build a wall around themselves and have nothing to do with the Gentiles: separate and unequal!  The other side of the debate is represented by the books of Jonah and, today, Ruth, which represent the argument that God’s people are blessed to be a blessing, that God’s promise to Abraham that all the nations will be blessed through him means that Israel, as Abraham’s seed, must engage the Gentiles for the Lord’s sake.

 

The setting of Ruth is one in which the community is led by spiritual leaders, the judges, who interpret God's Law for the people. The book tells the tale of Naomi which is a tale of bitterness because of the seeming absence of all good things from her life. During the time of the Judges there was no king. This particular time period was a time of famine which meant there was no food. The first thing we are told is that it was a time of death, for Naomi lost both her husband and sons while in the foreign land of Moab. Naomi's two daughters-in-law were released to stay in Moab rather than accompany Naomi back to Israel. While Orpah accepts Naomi's invitation to stay in Moab, Ruth clung to Naomi and pledged her allegiance to Naomi and to Naomi's God. Even still, upon their return to Bethlehem, Naomi announced to the gathered women, "Call me Mara,” which is the Hebrew word for bitter, "for the Lord has left me empty."

We know about Naomi's emptiness. Even if we have not experienced such absolute bleakness in our own lives, we can relate to Naomi instinctively and intuitively. We may have experienced moments in our lives when we seemed to be defined more by what was absent than by what was present. We understand at least a little bit about bleak and bitter which allows us to empathize with Naomi's emptiness. Like Naomi, many of us have thought to ourselves “The Twisted Syllogism of Faith,” which says: 1) I love God, 2) God is powerful, 3) Bad things should not happen to me. And when bad things do happen, we wonder: is it my fault or God’s?  We forget that there is a third option: sometimes it is no one's fault; life is difficult.  Now the Nehemiah camp said: “It was our own fault that the Gentiles took us into exile because we weren’t faithful enough, weren’t pure enough.  We need to work harder at staying pure.”  The message of the Nehemiah camp was one of vigorous, rigorous law! The book of Ruth, however, tells a different story. To Naomi’s cry of the bitter soul of emptiness, the Lord brought healing in the form of Ruth and Boaz.

 

 

As the story continues we understand that Naomi and Ruth had a problem. In ancient Israel, women were dependent by law and social custom on the men in their lives. The prospects for Naomi and Ruth were bleak. Their only choice was for Ruth to go to the fields and take up a form of begging.

 

By Israelite law, owners of the fields and their workers were not to harvest everything by returning time and time again to the same row of grain. Rather, they were to leave what they had missed during the first pass for the poor, the alien, the widow and the fatherless. This practice, called gleaning, was a form of social welfare whereby Ruth could gather the scraps missed by the paid workers. God’s economic principles prohibited the maximization of profits to the exlusion of caring for the poor. So Ruth went to the fields, and the Lord led her to a field owned by Boaz, a kinsman-redeemer. In ancient Israel, a kinsman-redeemer was a man who was a close relative of a widow.

 

By Israelite law, male relatives were required to marry their male relative's widows and provide for them in case a brother or cousin died. The custom of requiring a kinsman-redeemer to step forward to provide care was also a form of social welfare. So Boaz, who was a wealthy, middle-aged Israelite, saw Ruth the poor, young Moabitess working the field, and Boaz took a fancy to Ruth. At this point in the story, Boaz did not know he was a kinsman-redeemer, he just knew that Ruth's devotion to her mother-in-law displayed a worthy character, so Boaz instructed his workers, "Make sure that Moabitess over there is, you know, taken care of."

 

Naomi saw her first glimmer of hope, a glimmer of possible redemption. Naomi knew that Boaz would be working late into the night due to the harvest, so she instructed Ruth to bathe, put on perfume, and put on her best feminine attire. Naomi told Ruth not to show herself until Boaz was asleep. Once Boaz was asleep Ruth was to lie next to him and uncover his "feet." In Hebrew, the word for "feet" is a euphemism for...how should I say this...I want to keep this a G-rated sermon...let's just say the word "feet” refers to a private area. In any case, Naomi assured Ruth that Boaz "will tell you what to do." I’m sure he would. Well, Naomi was correct. Now, nothing happened, at least not that night, because Boaz was a man of integrity. But something did happen the next day. The next day Boaz went to the town gate, which was where all legal and business transactions were conducted, and he redeemed his cousin's wife. Even though there was a closer male relative, still it was Boaz who agreed to marry Ruth, take her and Naomi into his household, and carry on his cousin's family through Ruth. The book's conclusion tells us that Ruth's son was Obed, who was father of Jesse, who was father of David, the king. And we know that David's line ultimately led to Joseph, the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called the Christ.

 

Naomi's reversal was complete. From no name to the name that is above all names. From no son to the Son of God. From no food to the bread of heaven. From no king to the King of kings.

 

*****

God's provision for Naomi in the midst of her emptiness was the gift of community: Boaz and Ruth. Boaz represents the traditional, conventional gift of community: the responsible and righteous man, the man of prosperity and integrity. Boaz could have dodged his responsibilities. The Law required a kinsman-redeem, but there was another male relative whose responsibility was greater. But in a time of convenience, Boaz stood tall. Men, when was the last time you stood tall and did what was the right thing to do, even though it was inconvenient?  What will you do the next time comes to do what is right, even though it is inconvenient?

 

More interesting is the help Ruth gave to Naomi, for Ruth was an outsider...not of Naomi's blood, not of Naomi's faith, not of Naomi's nation, yet Ruth stayed with her nonetheless. Even more, we see Ruth's surprising strength in her encounter with Boaz the night of the harvest. What she did was the ancient Israelite equivalent of having June Cleaver propose to Ward, "Mr. Cleaver, may I have Ward's hand in marriage?" Life does not work that way, (or so we think.) The outsider is not supposed to call the righteous man to faithfulness. The guest is not supposed to teach us about hospitality. The victim is not supposed to teach us about healing. But here it is. While Boaz flirted with Ruth from afar, Ruth’s actions stood up to demand of him, "Fulfill your Law!" The result was a reversal of fortune for Naomi.

 

We can imagine how the book of Ruth would have impacted the post-exilic Israelites having a debate about their core identity.  The Nehemiah camp would have found the book silly; the Jonah camp would have trumpeted its truth: “Let us remember that God is Creator of all people, even the nations.  Yes, God has chosen us, but we are to be a blessing to them, for God loves even those who are different from us, even the Gentiles.”  Ruth, the book, reminds us of God’s wonderful sense of irony: he used a Gentile to remind the Israelites of their calling to go beyond themselves.  Indeed, without Ruth, the woman, there is no David, the king.  Without Ruth there is no Jesus.  Indeed, Ruth is a welcome stranger.

 

I don't think we can overestimate the blessings God gives to us in the community of faith. No one can stand in isolation. No one walks the journey of life alone. We are like the great sequoias of northern California. The sequoia trees will grow hundreds of feet into the air. They routinely withstand the winds of the arctic jet stream that blow through them at thirty and even forty miles an hour. And yet, the sequoia's roots barely break below the surface of the ground. We say, "That's impossible! If the roots don't grow deep, the winds will blow over those top heavy trees faster than we can say, 'Timber!'" Yet it's true. The secret of the sequoias you see is that they only grow in groves, never alone. They grow in groves and their roots intertwine so that when the strong winds come the trees each hold each other up: the gift of community.

 

What will we do the next time strong winds blow in our life? What will we do the next time we experience emptiness? What will we do the next time we have a problem? Will we journey with God? I hope so. Because I know that, as we walk with God, God provides for us his grace for our strength and support and transformation. Yes, the gift of Scripture and prayer. Yes, also, the gift of worship and mission. But yes, finally, the gift of the community of faith, the grace-full community.

 

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