Today begins a 4 part series on the book of Ruth, and we’re going to start out with a pop quiz.
Q: Ruth was one of how many books in the Bible named for women? A: Two
Q: The other one was ____? A: Esther, and she was the ______ of _____?
Q: Ruth was a ______ from _____? A foreigner from Moab – today we would call her an immigrant or a refugee, perhaps even a climate-related refugee (though her status had more to do with seasonal harvest yields than a functionally altered biosphere).
Well done! As we move forward in this series I want to encourage you all to read the book of Ruth. Chances are you will find something new in it, even if you have read it before. Don’t worry if you get ahead of the readings for worship. Just read it and let the story sink in. You might want to do a little extra digging in a study Bible or some online commentaries, but the same word of caution goes here as I mentioned before the readings. Be careful about interpretations that want to remove or ignore the historical context of this story or that ignore the placement of this story within the whole story of God’s love revealed through scripture.
I think that Biblical interpretation which considers everything in light of the whole story of God’s love is one of the gifts of our Reformed tradition. When I read some of the weirdly problematic stories from Genesis or strange prophecies or just overly literal interpretations of the allegorical stories that Jesus tells, I’m often comforted by asking myself, “What does this have to do with the love of God expressed through the life and teachings of Jesus?” Sometimes I still walk away scratching my head, but usually, I find answers in conversation with others or just by looking a little deeper into the history and context of whatever I’ve read and continuing to ask, “What did this have to say about love and justice and mercy back then, and what does it have to say to me about it today?”
As we ask those questions – as followers of the way of Jesus – we can’t help but look at Ruth’s story through the lens of our faith in Christ, which means that we also need to remember that this story is from the tradition that Jesus of Nazareth was born into. In fact, pairing the beatitudes with this story reminds us about – and affirms – the “Jewishness” of Jesus. In the Beatitudes, we find Jesus expressing the “chesed,” or loving kindness, of God. We can get more into that in a minute, but chesed is also the central theme of the book of Ruth, where we find that loving kindness is born out of loyalty, commitment, and compassion.
Ruth’s story – which is really just as much about Naomi as anybody – took place in a time when loyalty could be a death sentence and compassion seemed like a luxury. Sadly, there are still places in the world where that is true, and some of them may be closer than we like to admit. As for Ruth and Naomi, they lived in a time before Kings like Saul and David. They lived in a time when God raised Judges to condemn and purify the land, and “all the people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes.”
That’s how the book of Judges ends, and it is followed directly by Ruth in the Christian Bible. In the Jewish tradition, Ruth is placed more liturgically – given its association with the feast of Shavuot, which we call Pentecost – but Ruth still connects the dots between a time when loving kindness was the exception and the time when the line and family of David were established. We’ll get to that in a few weeks, so just keep that in mind as a part of where we are going.
The line and family of David did not necessarily generalize loving kindness as a behavior, in fact, the words of the prophets continued to call out through the years as in Micah 6:8, “What does the Lord require of you but to seek justice, offering loving kindness, and walk humbly with your God?”
So…what’s the point of Ruth, then, and why does this immigrant refugee woman get a book named after her and why should we care? Some say it is to keep us humble, although that’s a really backward way to look at God’s preference for the outcast. Over and over in the Old Testament, God continuously sides with the ones who are less than, left out, and powerless over and above the powerful and prestigious. Why is that? Is it just to keep us from getting too big for our britches, or is it because God’s character, God’s very nature, is one of compassion?
Sure, the powerful are often kept in check by God’s preference for the poor, but as Jesus said in Mark 2:17, “It is not healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” So often it is the sickness of a lack of compassion that leads to the pain and suffering of others, but in Ruth’s story, we find the reversal of suffering through the compassion of an outsider – a Moabite woman – during a time of famine in Bethlehem (literally translated to House of Bread).
The Moabites were indistinct ethnically from the Judians (being descended from Lot), but they had a different cultural identity and a different tribal God. For Naomi, whose name means Pleasant, and Elimelech, whose name means God is King, to go to Moab was to turn their back on God. Likewise, their sons were Mahlon and Chilion, meaning Sickness and Spent, and Orpah – the one who returned home – means Back of the Neck. Historically, Jewish readers and storytellers would know how these names add irony and insight into what God was doing in and through them, which is why Naomi laments and changes her name to Mara, meaning Bitterness.
In the midst of all of this is Ruth, which some say is derived from words meaning Friend or Companion. When all has gone about as bad as it could, Naomi does the only thing she can do to show her daughter’s in law compassion, chesed, and loving-kindness. She releases them from their ethical and cultural responsibility to care for her and sends them to the only resources that might provide for them – their families of origin – but Ruth says, “No.”
More than that, Ruth makes what might be the first recorded version of what we now call a “Ride or Die” commitment. Ruth rejects everything that has been before and aligns her fate with Naomi’s. Where you lie, there I will lie. Where you go, so will I. Your God will be my God and your people will be mine.
There’s no real reason given for this level of compassion except for pure, unadulterated loving kindness. There is no promise or hope for blessing, apart from the assurance that the famine is over. There is no expectation of a specific kinfolk who will take them in. The only assurance either of them has is that they will suffer together, and yet as the story comes to a close we hear that “They came to Bethlehem at the beginning of the Barley harvest.”
Friends, I can tell you story after story of people I have met who give up their poverty like Ruth does. There are tons of TikToks and YouTube videos of people asking someone who is begging if they can have a quarter for the bus and finding the person with little to nothing to be more generous than the person who has more than they need.
Just a few weeks ago at Montreat, we played this game in our connecting groups with teenagers who did not even know each other. Four separate groups were given a bag of random objects and told to see who could make the biggest tower. They were not told that they could not collaborate, so they immediately moved into competitor mode. Afterward, it was discovered that another group had less stuff than mine. I asked my group how they felt about hearing that they could have worked together and they said that they felt set up for a competition (which they were). I asked them if they would have made any other choices if they had known the others had less. Reluctantly, they said, “I suppose we could have traded something, but only if they had something that we could use.”
None of these kids were inherently evil or cold-hearted. They were just responding to an environment of competition. I don’t say that to suggest that competition is inherently evil or cold-hearted either, but if it becomes the only way that we can see the world then it can leave us with little to no options when there is a need for compassion.
Fortunately for us, and for all the world, there is another way. The way of Jesus reminds us that we are blessed, which is another form of the word chesed when we mourn and show mercy and become meek when we could become domineering and indifferent. We become loving kindness when we purify our hearts to the extent that we are actually able to love God with all that we have and all that we are and love our neighbors as ourselves!
The story of Ruth is in many ways a morality tale that shows us what chesed looks like in real life, and it looks a lot like another word we’ve discussed. That word is Ubuntu, the African proverb meaning, “I am because we are.”
We might take that as a way of saying that we are products of our environment, but in the environment of this table we are reminded that it is a way of saying that we are a part of something greater than ourselves. That “something” is nothing less than the grace and mercy of God. Ruth was a part of that, even though she acted as an individual. Jesus was certainly a part of that, and he invites us to be a part of what God is doing — even here, even now.
You know, the Beatitudes were a part of what God was and is doing through Jesus, and you, and me. They were not intended to be a personal ethic. They were intended as a mindset for those that wanted to be a part of what God is doing in the world. It wasn’t just “blessed is the one who is” it was “blessed are all y’all when you are a part of this.” Our reading from Ruth is like that as well, as it moves from the sorrow and bitterness of Naomi’s loss to the joy of Ruth in claiming kinship with Naomi and the promise of the harvest in the city of bread.
Today, let us move from whatever bitterness holds us back from loving as we have been loved, and let us join the one who came from Bethlehem to this table, and may all who are weary and worn be comforted by the ride or die commitment of God that includes the promise of life in the kin-doom and household of God. Amen!
Q: Ruth was one of how many books in the Bible named for women? A: Two
Q: The other one was ____? A: Esther, and she was the ______ of _____?
Q: Ruth was a ______ from _____? A foreigner from Moab – today we would call her an immigrant or a refugee, perhaps even a climate-related refugee (though her status had more to do with seasonal harvest yields than a functionally altered biosphere).
Well done! As we move forward in this series I want to encourage you all to read the book of Ruth. Chances are you will find something new in it, even if you have read it before. Don’t worry if you get ahead of the readings for worship. Just read it and let the story sink in. You might want to do a little extra digging in a study Bible or some online commentaries, but the same word of caution goes here as I mentioned before the readings. Be careful about interpretations that want to remove or ignore the historical context of this story or that ignore the placement of this story within the whole story of God’s love revealed through scripture.
I think that Biblical interpretation which considers everything in light of the whole story of God’s love is one of the gifts of our Reformed tradition. When I read some of the weirdly problematic stories from Genesis or strange prophecies or just overly literal interpretations of the allegorical stories that Jesus tells, I’m often comforted by asking myself, “What does this have to do with the love of God expressed through the life and teachings of Jesus?” Sometimes I still walk away scratching my head, but usually, I find answers in conversation with others or just by looking a little deeper into the history and context of whatever I’ve read and continuing to ask, “What did this have to say about love and justice and mercy back then, and what does it have to say to me about it today?”
As we ask those questions – as followers of the way of Jesus – we can’t help but look at Ruth’s story through the lens of our faith in Christ, which means that we also need to remember that this story is from the tradition that Jesus of Nazareth was born into. In fact, pairing the beatitudes with this story reminds us about – and affirms – the “Jewishness” of Jesus. In the Beatitudes, we find Jesus expressing the “chesed,” or loving kindness, of God. We can get more into that in a minute, but chesed is also the central theme of the book of Ruth, where we find that loving kindness is born out of loyalty, commitment, and compassion.
Ruth’s story – which is really just as much about Naomi as anybody – took place in a time when loyalty could be a death sentence and compassion seemed like a luxury. Sadly, there are still places in the world where that is true, and some of them may be closer than we like to admit. As for Ruth and Naomi, they lived in a time before Kings like Saul and David. They lived in a time when God raised Judges to condemn and purify the land, and “all the people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes.”
That’s how the book of Judges ends, and it is followed directly by Ruth in the Christian Bible. In the Jewish tradition, Ruth is placed more liturgically – given its association with the feast of Shavuot, which we call Pentecost – but Ruth still connects the dots between a time when loving kindness was the exception and the time when the line and family of David were established. We’ll get to that in a few weeks, so just keep that in mind as a part of where we are going.
The line and family of David did not necessarily generalize loving kindness as a behavior, in fact, the words of the prophets continued to call out through the years as in Micah 6:8, “What does the Lord require of you but to seek justice, offering loving kindness, and walk humbly with your God?”
So…what’s the point of Ruth, then, and why does this immigrant refugee woman get a book named after her and why should we care? Some say it is to keep us humble, although that’s a really backward way to look at God’s preference for the outcast. Over and over in the Old Testament, God continuously sides with the ones who are less than, left out, and powerless over and above the powerful and prestigious. Why is that? Is it just to keep us from getting too big for our britches, or is it because God’s character, God’s very nature, is one of compassion?
Sure, the powerful are often kept in check by God’s preference for the poor, but as Jesus said in Mark 2:17, “It is not healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” So often it is the sickness of a lack of compassion that leads to the pain and suffering of others, but in Ruth’s story, we find the reversal of suffering through the compassion of an outsider – a Moabite woman – during a time of famine in Bethlehem (literally translated to House of Bread).
The Moabites were indistinct ethnically from the Judians (being descended from Lot), but they had a different cultural identity and a different tribal God. For Naomi, whose name means Pleasant, and Elimelech, whose name means God is King, to go to Moab was to turn their back on God. Likewise, their sons were Mahlon and Chilion, meaning Sickness and Spent, and Orpah – the one who returned home – means Back of the Neck. Historically, Jewish readers and storytellers would know how these names add irony and insight into what God was doing in and through them, which is why Naomi laments and changes her name to Mara, meaning Bitterness.
In the midst of all of this is Ruth, which some say is derived from words meaning Friend or Companion. When all has gone about as bad as it could, Naomi does the only thing she can do to show her daughter’s in law compassion, chesed, and loving-kindness. She releases them from their ethical and cultural responsibility to care for her and sends them to the only resources that might provide for them – their families of origin – but Ruth says, “No.”
More than that, Ruth makes what might be the first recorded version of what we now call a “Ride or Die” commitment. Ruth rejects everything that has been before and aligns her fate with Naomi’s. Where you lie, there I will lie. Where you go, so will I. Your God will be my God and your people will be mine.
There’s no real reason given for this level of compassion except for pure, unadulterated loving kindness. There is no promise or hope for blessing, apart from the assurance that the famine is over. There is no expectation of a specific kinfolk who will take them in. The only assurance either of them has is that they will suffer together, and yet as the story comes to a close we hear that “They came to Bethlehem at the beginning of the Barley harvest.”
Friends, I can tell you story after story of people I have met who give up their poverty like Ruth does. There are tons of TikToks and YouTube videos of people asking someone who is begging if they can have a quarter for the bus and finding the person with little to nothing to be more generous than the person who has more than they need.
Just a few weeks ago at Montreat, we played this game in our connecting groups with teenagers who did not even know each other. Four separate groups were given a bag of random objects and told to see who could make the biggest tower. They were not told that they could not collaborate, so they immediately moved into competitor mode. Afterward, it was discovered that another group had less stuff than mine. I asked my group how they felt about hearing that they could have worked together and they said that they felt set up for a competition (which they were). I asked them if they would have made any other choices if they had known the others had less. Reluctantly, they said, “I suppose we could have traded something, but only if they had something that we could use.”
None of these kids were inherently evil or cold-hearted. They were just responding to an environment of competition. I don’t say that to suggest that competition is inherently evil or cold-hearted either, but if it becomes the only way that we can see the world then it can leave us with little to no options when there is a need for compassion.
Fortunately for us, and for all the world, there is another way. The way of Jesus reminds us that we are blessed, which is another form of the word chesed when we mourn and show mercy and become meek when we could become domineering and indifferent. We become loving kindness when we purify our hearts to the extent that we are actually able to love God with all that we have and all that we are and love our neighbors as ourselves!
The story of Ruth is in many ways a morality tale that shows us what chesed looks like in real life, and it looks a lot like another word we’ve discussed. That word is Ubuntu, the African proverb meaning, “I am because we are.”
We might take that as a way of saying that we are products of our environment, but in the environment of this table we are reminded that it is a way of saying that we are a part of something greater than ourselves. That “something” is nothing less than the grace and mercy of God. Ruth was a part of that, even though she acted as an individual. Jesus was certainly a part of that, and he invites us to be a part of what God is doing — even here, even now.
You know, the Beatitudes were a part of what God was and is doing through Jesus, and you, and me. They were not intended to be a personal ethic. They were intended as a mindset for those that wanted to be a part of what God is doing in the world. It wasn’t just “blessed is the one who is” it was “blessed are all y’all when you are a part of this.” Our reading from Ruth is like that as well, as it moves from the sorrow and bitterness of Naomi’s loss to the joy of Ruth in claiming kinship with Naomi and the promise of the harvest in the city of bread.
Today, let us move from whatever bitterness holds us back from loving as we have been loved, and let us join the one who came from Bethlehem to this table, and may all who are weary and worn be comforted by the ride or die commitment of God that includes the promise of life in the kin-doom and household of God. Amen!
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