Ruth 2:1-13

¹ Now Naomi had a relative of her husband’s, a worthy man of the clan of Elimelech, whose name was Boaz. ² And Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, “Let me go to the field and glean among the ears of grain after him in whose sight I shall find favor.” And she said to her, “Go, my daughter.” ³ So she set out and went and gleaned in the field after the reapers, and she happened to come to the part of the field belonging to Boaz, who was of the clan of Elimelech. ⁴ And behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem. And he said to the reapers, “The Lord be with you!” And they answered, “The Lord bless you.” ⁵ Then Boaz said to his young man who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose young woman is this?” ⁶ And the servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, “She is the young Moabite woman, who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. ⁷ She said, ‘Please let me glean and gather among the sheaves after the reapers.’ So she came, and she has continued from early morning until now, except for a short rest.” ⁸ Then Boaz said to Ruth, “Now, listen, my daughter, do not go to glean in another field or leave this one, but keep close to my young women. ⁹ Let your eyes be on the field that they are reaping, and go after them. Have I not charged the young men not to touch you? And when you are thirsty, go to the vessels and drink what the young men have drawn.” ¹⁰ Then she fell on her face, bowing to the ground, and said to him, “Why have I found favor in your eyes, that you should take notice of me, since I am a foreigner?” ¹¹ But Boaz answered her, “All that you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband has been fully told to me, and how you left your father and mother and your native land and came to a people that you did not know before. ¹² The Lord repay you for what you have done, and a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge!” ¹³ Then she said, “I have found favor in your eyes, my lord, for you have comforted me and spoken kindly to your servant, though I am not one of your servants.”

Shane Clairborne tells a story about a friend of his who had fallen upon hard times and was panhandling on a street corner. He made up a little sign, as folks begging on street corners sometimes will. His cardboard sign said this: “In need of grace.”[1]

There is something compelling and convicting about that: “In need of grace.” I suspect I find that moving because I could make up a sign like that on any day of the week and just stand out on a street corner as well. “In need of grace.” The reality is that we all could hold signs like that because we all need grace. It is a basic human need, like the need for food or sleep.

Grace is the unmerited, undeserved mercy of God. R.C. Sproul put it well when he wrote:

            It is impossible for anyone, anywhere, anytime to deserve grace. Grace by definition is undeserved. As soon as we talk about deserving something we are no longer talking about grace; we are talking about justice. Only justice can be deserved…God never “owes” grace….God reserves for Himself the supreme right of executive clemency.[2]

I suppose that is what makes grace so fascinating, so amazing, and so beautiful: it can only be given to us by the God whom we have sinned and rebelled against…but it is exactly what He gives us in Jesus! He who reserves “supreme right of executive clemency” has granted it willingly and lavishly in Jesus.

In the unfolding of the story of Ruth, we now come to chapter two and the fascinating character of Boaz. As we consider Ruth 2:1-13, I am going to use Boaz unapologetically as an allegory for the nature of grace. Not to put too fine a point on it, I am going to argue that Boaz is a type or a depiction of Jesus. How Boaz treats Ruth is going to serve as an image for how Jesus treats us.

I say I am going to do this unapologetically for it seems clear to me that this is one of the intentions of the story: to depict the love of God for His people in and through the actions of Boaz toward Ruth. I will also point out to you that the first and last statements we hear from Boaz in our text involve the blessings and goodness of God.

⁴ And behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem. And he said to the reapers, “The Lord be with you!” And they answered, “The Lord bless you.”

¹² The Lord repay you for what you have done, and a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge!”

I want to argue that those two statements about the goodness of God form what is called an inclusio. An inclusio is a literary tool by which identical or similar words or phrases bookend a text. That is, a similar phrase or word or idea comes at the beginning of a text and at the end. In so doing, the inclusio informs what happens in the middle. Thus between the invoking of God’s name and blessings at the beginning and end of our text, Boaz demonstrates hesed, lovingkindness, and grace.

How Boaz treats Ruth is what grace looks like. How Boaz treats Ruth is how God treats us. Let us watch this beautiful scene unfold.

Boaz saw Ruth.

It will sound overly simplistic, but the first step of grace is when the one who is able to give grace sees the one who needs it. This happens in the beginning of our text when Boaz sees Ruth.

¹ Now Naomi had a relative of her husband’s, a worthy man of the clan of Elimelech, whose name was Boaz. ² And Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, “Let me go to the field and glean among the ears of grain after him in whose sight I shall find favor.” And she said to her, “Go, my daughter.” ³ So she set out and went and gleaned in the field after the reapers, and she happened to come to the part of the field belonging to Boaz, who was of the clan of Elimelech. ⁴ And behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem. And he said to the reapers, “The Lord be with you!” And they answered, “The Lord bless you.” ⁵ Then Boaz said to his young man who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose young woman is this?” ⁶ And the servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, “She is the young Moabite woman, who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. ⁷ She said, ‘Please let me glean and gather among the sheaves after the reapers.’ So she came, and she has continued from early morning until now, except for a short rest.”

Here is the setting for our drama of grace: Ruth, the foreigner, has come to Naomi, her mother-in-law’s land. She, Ruth, has no status. She has, from a human perspective, risked a great deal in coming and in rejecting her mother-in-law’s initial advice that she stay in her own homeland of Moab. She returns with Naomi instead. The two women are widows and are impoverished. Their husbands are deceased. They are in a precarious position to be sure.

But Ruth shows a courageous and industrious spirit. She says to her mother-in-law that she wants to go glean in the fields after the reapers. You will recall that chapter one concluded with the significant fact that Naomi and Ruth returned to Bethlehem during the barley harvest. Thus, the famine had ended. Even so, you can starve to death next to a buffet if you have no means of receiving the food yourself, so Ruth, the foreign daughter-in-law, proposes that she go and glean.

Gleaning refers to the process of picking up the stalks and grains that the reapers accidentally dropped or intentionally left while harvesting the crop. It is important to realize that gleaning was viewed by Israel as a kind of welfare program for those in need. Thus, it was legislated by God in Israel’s laws. For instance, we read this in Leviticus 19:

⁹ “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field right up to its edge, neither shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest. ¹⁰ And you shall not strip your vineyard bare, neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard. You shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the Lord your God.

In other words, those who owned and those who harvested fields were to leave some of the harvest on the edges and in the corners for the poor to glean. Deuteronomy 24 says the same.

¹⁹ “When you reap your harvest in your field and forget a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to get it. It shall be for the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow, that the Lord your God may bless you in all the work of your hands. ²⁰ When you beat your olive trees, you shall not go over them again. It shall be for the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow. ²¹ When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, you shall not strip it afterward. It shall be for the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow. ²² You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore I command you to do this.

The edges of the field were to be left unharvested and any of the grain that was dropped was to be left there for the poor. And this was what Ruth proposed to Naomi: that she go and glean behind the reapers of the harvest. Naomi gave her blessing and Ruth went to the field of Boaz, unbeknownst to her, who was a kinsman of Naomi’s late husband Ebimelech.

While resting, Boaz, who owned the portion of the field in which Ruth was gleaning, came along and began talking to his servant. While talking to him, he noticed this strange foreign girl.

⁵ Then Boaz said to his young man who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose young woman is this?”

May I suggest that this is the very doorway to grace: when the one who has grace to give sees and acknowledges the one who is in desperate need of grace? Nothing happens without that: he sees her!

Perhaps you feel as if nobody at all sees you. The good news of the gospel of Christ is that God sees you. The amazing statement, “For God so loved the world,” means, at its most basic level, that God sees the world and has compassion upon it.

“Look at the birds of the air,” Jesus says in Matthew 6:26, “they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” Yes. Yes you are. God cares for the little birds and the you are more valuable than the little birds. He sees you! He loves you!

Ruth certainly did not miss the significance of her being seen. Near the conclusion of our text we read this:

¹⁰ Then she fell on her face, bowing to the ground, and said to him, “Why have I found favor in your eyes, that you should take notice of me, since I am a foreigner?”

She marveled that Boaz took notice of her. But he did! And God notices you as well!

Boaz included Ruth among his own people even though she was not originally his people.

Not content with merely seeing her, Boaz also drew her near to his own people.

⁸ Then Boaz said to Ruth, “Now, listen, my daughter, do not go to glean in another field or leave this one, but keep close to my young women. ^9a Let your eyes be on the field that they are reaping, and go after them.

Boaz tells her two things initially: (1) stay in my field and (2) stay close to my young women. Robert Hubbard suggests that Boaz’s invitation for Ruth to stay in his field with his young women “is not as unimportant a detail as it might seem.” He explains:

First, his instruction seemed to grant Ruth some sort of status in Boaz’s household…Certainly Ruth’s reaction suggested that she got more than she originally sought (see v.10)…Probably the most one can say is that Boaz granted Ruth an informal status as – again, by modern analogy – “most favored gleaner.” His workers would treat her as if she belonged with them because he said so (see vv.15-16)…As a follow-up to 1:14-17…here she stepped from “outside” Israel to the outer edge of the “inner” circle. Second, the instruction in effect placed Ruth under Boaz’s protection…[3]

How wonderfully beautiful this! Ruth, the outsider, is welcomed into the company of Boaz’s people. Leon Morris agrees with Hubbard that this invitation to Ruth “apparently indicates some form of status in Boaz’ household.”[4] Status was simply more than Ruth could have hoped for. Remember her vulnerable position: a foreign widow woman who did not know a soul in Boaz’s field comes and dares to seek the leftovers…and she is not rebuffed! She is welcomed.

The Church has often failed to welcome the outsider into the family of God. At times we have not been Boaz to Ruth. In Larry Eskridge’s fascinating history of the Jesus people, God’s Forever Family, he passes on one such example. Many of the Christians who were ministering to the hippy kids on the streets of San Francisco in the 1960’s turned to established churches in an effort to get them to help reach and house these oftentimes homeless and drug addicted youth.

One woman’s response to a request to house one of the hippie kids that they were trying to get off the street spoke volumes of the attitudes of many conservative church members. Evangelical Concerns board member Ed Plowman remembered that after he had made the request, the woman just stared at him in disbelief and blurted out: “Pastor— THAT between my clean sheets?”[5]

How heartbreaking! What a tragedy the Church’s failure to welcome the outsider in is! That was not Boaz’s posture toward the foreigner Ruth. More importantly, that is not God’s posture toward us, who are naturally outsiders to the Kingdom of God. God does not shame us and reject us. God opens the door of the Kingdom to us through Jesus.

In Hosea 2, the Lord God speaks of a day of ultimate restoration when He will save His people and when forgiveness will conquer. The wording is fascinating.

²¹ “And in that day I will answer, declares the Lord,
I will answer the heavens,
and they shall answer the earth, ²² and the earth shall answer the grain, the wine, and the oil,
and they shall answer Jezreel, ²³ and I will sow her for myself in the land.
And I will have mercy on No Mercy,
and I will say to Not My People, ‘You are my people’;
and he shall say, ‘You are my God.’”

“I will say to Not My People, ‘You are my people’; and he shall say, ‘You are my God.’”

This is why I said earlier that I am unapologetic in presenting Boaz as a type or a foreshadowing of the Lord Jesus, for this is precisely what Boaz does: he says to “Not My People,” “You are now my people!”

This is what Jesus does for us. He opens the door to the outsider and to the foreigner, to the stranger and to the person in the back of the crowd who feels unworthy to be present. Jesus is in the business of spotting Ruths and welcoming them in. This is what grace is: welcoming the outsider in.

Boaz offered Ruth protection and security against those who would harm her.

But he did not stop there. Boaz next extended to Ruth his personal protection against any threat of harm.

^9b Have I not charged the young men not to touch you?

This is a revealing and unsettling thing for Boaz to say. It implies, of course, that without his edict the young men would have possibly harassed or assaulted Ruth. This likely reveals a number of dynamics at play in the cultural setting of the story of Ruth: the status of women in this culture, the status of foreigners in this culture, and the status of the gleaning poor in this culture. To be a woman was risky enough because of the low view of women that many had at the time, but to be a foreign poor woman gleaning the fields of another was an extremely precarious position to be in. While the rights of gleaners were spelled out in the law, it is easy to imagine how tensions might arise between the paid field laborers and the poor seeking to gather up what was left behind.

Ruth, then, was in a profoundly vulnerable situation. It is therefore all the more moving that Boaz the landowner extended to her his protection. Daniel Block makes the fascinating observation that “Boaz is hereby instituting the first anti-sexual-harassment policy in the workplace recorded in the Bible.”[6] He is correct. By identifying Ruth with his young women and by warning the young men not to harass her, Boaz brought her under his care and his mantle of protection, a most welcome gift indeed.

This, too, is the nature of God’s grace: it draws us under His protective wings. Boaz will invoke this very image a bit later in our text, but before he invoked the image he enacted the reality. He offered the protection that he prayed for. In doing so, He was a type of the protecting Christ.

In 1 Peter 5:8, Peter wrote, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” We, too, need protection!

There is a telling scene in Luke 22:31-32a in which Jesus said to Peter, “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail.”

Here we see Jesus acknowledging the pernicious intentions of the devil against the people of God but also His intention to stand with us and for us. In Matthew 22:37, Jesus proclaimed his desire to gather unrepentant Jerusalem under his wings “as a hen gathers her chicks.”

Make not mistake: the Lord Jesus offers you spiritual protection from the enemy who would destroy you. He loves His people and He will see us through to the end. He does not promise the avoidance of pain, but He does promise that He will never abandon us and that our inheritance is secure through His blood and resurrection.

Biblical grace is protecting grace, grace that assures the people of God that they will not be left alone before the vicious wiles of the devil.

Boaz went beyond mere provision to excessive generosity.

And grace is lavish grace. There is an interesting final gift that Boaz gave to Ruth, though it may not seem lavish on the face of it.

^9c And when you are thirsty, go to the vessels and drink what the young men have drawn.”

Boaz saw Ruth. Boaz welcomed Ruth into the company of his people. Boaz offered Ruth his protection. And Boaz capped it off with an act of lavish generosity. He informed her that she too was welcome to drink the water from the vessels the young men would fill.

There are good reasons to see this as a surprising kindness. Customarily, women drew water for men and foreigners drew water for Israelites. In telling Ruth to take water with the Israelites that was drawn by his young men, Boaz was removing yet another occasion for Ruth to experience stigma and shame.

“What an interesting touch,” Hubbard observes, “a foreign woman who customarily would draw water for Israelites was welcome to drink water drawn by Israelites. Further, coupled with his granting of permission, the gesture marked a very generous, unexpected concession.”[7] Katharine Doob Sakenfeld further notes that “although we do not know any details of the customs surrounding gleaning, it is quite likely that this was a special privilege not usually granted.”[8] Furthermore Daniel Block sees this as “indeed extraordinary.”[9]

Water is a glorious luxury to those who are thirsty. It is even more so to the thirsty one who has no inherent right to the water. It was an act of grace, this invitation to drink with his people. That Ruth recognized it as amazing grace can be seen in her moving response.

¹⁰ Then she fell on her face, bowing to the ground, and said to him, “Why have I found favor in your eyes, that you should take notice of me, since I am a foreigner?” ¹¹ But Boaz answered her, “All that you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband has been fully told to me, and how you left your father and mother and your native land and came to a people that you did not know before. ¹² The Lord repay you for what you have done, and a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge!” ¹³ Then she said, “I have found favor in your eyes, my lord, for you have comforted me and spoken kindly to your servant, though I am not one of your servants.”

Boaz’s words revealed the foreshadowing nature of his own offer of grace: “The Lord repay you for what you have done, and a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge!”

It is as if Boaz said, “I have shown you grace, yes, but God will complete the gift. He will give you a full reward.”

In response, tellingly, Ruth said, “I have found favor in your eyes…”

In bringing the attention back to Boaz, Ruth was not neglecting the goodness of God. Instead, she was recognizing that God’s goodness had already begun in and through Boaz’s treatment of her.

It is a powerful moment.

Church, hear me: the grace of God is a seeing, accepting, protecting, blessing grace! And it is found in Jesus.

In John 4, Jesus also spoke to a woman about her need for water.

¹³ Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, ¹⁴ but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

Behold the lavish grace of God! We hope for crumbs and God gives us a feast in Jesus. We hope for a sip and God gives us a never-ending spring of water in Jesus. We simply want to crawl through the door of heaven and sit contentedly in the back corner but God gives us a room and a home in Jesus.

The grace of God! The amazing grace of God in Christ!

[1] Shane Clairborne, The Irresistible Revolution (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2006), p.245, fn.1.

[2] R.C. Sproul, Holiness (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 1998), p.127.

[3] Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., The Book of Ruth. The New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1988), p.156.

[4] Arthur E. Cundall and Leon Morris (2008-09-19). TOTC Judges & Ruth (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries) (Kindle Locations 4023-4024). Inter-Varsity Press. Kindle Edition.”

[5] Eskridge, Larry (2013-05-31). God’s Forever Family: The Jesus People Movement in America (p. 39). Oxford University Press. Kindle Edition.

[6] Daniel I. Block, Judges, Ruth. The New American Commentary. Vol. 6. Gen. Ed., E. Ray Clendenen. (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 1999), p.660.

[7] Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., p.160.

[8] Katharine Doob Sakenfeld, Ruth. Interpretation. (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1999), p.43.

[9] Daniel Block, p.660.

Just a quick note of praise for David McCullough’s amazing book The Path Between the Seas: The Creation of the Panama Canal, 1870-1914.  I actually listened to this book being read by my Kindle over the last many months of driving. I must say it is absolutely astounding in its breadth, its detail, and its ability to maintain interest even though it is so very long.  The Panama Canal, as McCullough tells the story, is a symbol of all that is great and all that lamentable about human society:  the amazing ingenuity and determination, the astounding cruelty and injustice, the capacity to care about human progress, and the raw caprice of political power manipulation.  It’s all here in this one story of the epic construction of this one canal.  A great, great book. Highly recommended.

Ruth 1:6,19-22

⁶ Then she arose with her daughters-in-law to return from the country of Moab, for she had heard in the fields of Moab that the Lord had visited his people and given them food.

¹⁹ So the two of them went on until they came to Bethlehem. And when they came to Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them. And the women said, “Is this Naomi?” ²⁰ She said to them, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. ²¹ I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?” ²² So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab. And they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest.

Have you ever been in a store or country restaurant or something along those lines and seen this sign: “Lost Dog. Three legs. Blind in one eye. Missing right ear. Tail broken. Accidentally neutered. Answers to the name ‘Lucky’”?

The joke is, of course, in the surprising disjunction between the dog’s description and the dog’s name.

Naomi would have gotten that joke. In her own mind, Naomi was that joke. For Naomi means “pleasantness” or “sweetness,” but her life had become anything but. In our text, Naomi, “pleasantness,” returned to her home broken and defeated. More than that, she returned bitter. This is because she believed that God had dealt bitterly with her.

Nonetheless, she returned to the small town of Bethlehem, her hometown. She returned with her foreign daughter-in-law, Ruth, in tow. And when she returned, the townswomen gathered around to gawk at her.

This is the scene that unfolds before us. If we read it carefully, we will be able to understand the reason for Naomi’s bitterness and we will be better equipped to evaluate our own, should bitterness come into our lives.

Naomi’s bitterness was the result of very real pain and loss.

I do not wish to sit aloof and cast cold judgment on Naomi. To be sure, I will judge a bit, but I will do so very carefully. That is because whatever blind spots Naomi had developed, there was indeed very real pain and very real loss behind the frame of mind in which we find her in our text.

¹⁹ So the two of them went on until they came to Bethlehem. And when they came to Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them. And the women said, “Is this Naomi?” ²⁰ She said to them, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. ²¹ I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?”

“I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty.”

People have wondered at that saying. The beginning of chapter 1 tells us that she and her husband and sons left because famine had gripped the land. In what sense, then, had she gone away full?

An early Jewish commentary on Ruth called Ruth Rabbah deduced from Ruth’s statement that Elimelech, her husband, did not take the family away from their home in search of food per se but rather because he was wealthy and did not want to have to share his wealth with the townspeople during a difficult time. And this particular commentary further theorizes that this is why Elimelech and his sons died in Moab.[1]

That is, to be a sure, a provocative hypothesis, but also a fairly uncharitable one. The most natural reading would be that she is referring to her husband and her sons. When she left, they were alive and they were all a family together. Whether they had money or not, they had each other. But now, she was returning empty. In this approach, the emptiness refers to her deceased husband and sons. I do believe that this is what is happening, for almost certainly Naomi would have wanted to address the elephant in the room, if, that is, word had not already gotten back home in some other way.

Whatever we may think of Naomi, let us remember this: this is a woman who had undergone very real loss, and, simply put, nothing mitigates against our trust in God and our faith more than the existence of pain and suffering and devastating loss.

Joseph Heller’s novel Catch-22 is widely considered a masterpiece in 20^th century comedic literature. That being said, it is also a very serious work in many ways and, at times, a very troubling work. For instance, consider this scene in which Yossarian launches a diatribe against God while speaking to Lieutenant Scheisskopf’s wife. Ironically, both are atheists, but they are arguing about the kind of God they do not believe in.

“And don’t tell me God works in mysterious ways,” Yossarian continued, hurtling on over her objection. “There’s nothing so mysterious about it. He’s not working at all. He’s playing. Or else He’s forgotten all about us. That’s the kind of God you people talk about – a country bumpkin, a clumsy, bungling, brainless, conceited, uncouth hayseed. Good God, how much reverence can you have for a Supreme Being who finds it necessary to include such phenomena as phlegm and tooth decay in His divine system of creation? What in the world was running through that warped, evil, scatological mind of His when He robbed old people of the power to control their bowel movements? Why in the world did He ever create pain?”

            “Pain?” Lieutenant Scheisskopf’s wife pounced upon the word victoriously. “Pain is a useful symptom. Pain is a warning to us of bodily dangers.”

            “And who created the dangers?” Yossarian demanded. He laughed caustically. “Oh, He was really being charitable to us when He gave us pain! Why couldn’t He have used a doorbell instead to notify us, or one of His celestial choirs? Or a system of blue-and-red neon tubes right in the middle of each person’s forehead. Any jukebox manufacturer worth his salt could have done that. Why couldn’t He?”

            “People would certainly look silly walking around with red neon tubes in the middle of their foreheads.”

            “They certainly look beautiful now writhing in agony or stupefied with morphine, don’t they? What a colossal, immortal blunderer! When you consider the opportunity and power He had to really do a job, and then look at the stupid, ugly little mess He made of it instead, His sheer incompetence is almost staggering. It’s obvious He never met a payroll. Why, no self-respecting businessman would hire a bungler like Him as even a shipping clerk!”

            Lieutenant Scheisskopf’s wife had turned ashen in disbelief and was ogling him with alarm. “You’d better not talk that way about Him, honey,” she warned him reprovingly in a low and hostile voice. “He might punish you.”

            “Isn’t He punishing me enough?” Yossarian snorted resentfully. “You know, we mustn’t let Him get away with it. Oh, no, we certainly mustn’t let Him get away scot free for all the sorrow He’s caused us. Someday I’m going to make Him pay. I know when. On the Judgment Day. Yes, That’s the day I’ll be close enough to reach and grab that little yokel by His neck and –“

            “Stop it! Stop it!” Lieutenant Scheisskopf’s wife screamed suddenly, and began beating him ineffectually about the head with both fists. “Stop it!”

            …”What…are you getting so upset about?” he asked her bewilderedly in a tone of contrite amusement. “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

            “I don’t,” she sobbed, bursting violently into tears. “But the God I don’t believe in is a good God, a just God, a merciful God. He’s not the mean and stupid God you make Him out to be.”

            Yossarian laughed and turned her arms loose. “Let’s have a little more religious freedom between us,” he proposed obligingly. “You don’t believe in the God you want to, and I won’t believe in the God I want to. Is that a deal?”[2]

Or consider dying Ivan Ilyich’s anger at God in Leo Tolstoy’s novel, The Death of Ivan Ilyich.

He cried about his helplessness, about his terrible loneliness, about the cruelty of people, about the cruelty of God, about the absence of God.

            “Why hast Thou done all this? Why hast Thou brought me to this? Why dost Thou torture me so? For what?”

            He did not expect an answer, and he cried because there was no answer and there could be none. The pain started up again, but he did not stir, did not call out. He said to himself: “Go on then! Hit me again! But what for? What for? What have I done to Thee?”[3]

Or consider Voltaire’s Poeme sur le desastre de Lisbonne that was his complaint against God for allowing the 1755 Lisbonne earthquake to happen. That earthquake hit on Sunday, All Saint’s Day, 1755.   Between the 9.0 Richter force quake, the fire that swept Lisbonne, the massive tsunami that hit a half-hour after the earthquake began (killing many who were trying to flee up the Tagus River to escape), and the disease and pestilence that spread out from Lisbonne to Portugal and North Africa, well over 70,000 people died. So Voltaire penned his complaint, which reads in part:

These women, these infants heaped one upon the other, these limbs scattered beneath shattered marbles; the hundred thousand unfortunates whom the earth devours, who – bleeding and torn, still palpitating, interred beneath their roofs – end their lamentable days without comfort, amid the horror of their torment.

What crime and what sin have they committed, these infants crushed and bleeding on their mothers’ breasts?

No, no longer place these immutable laws of necessity before my agitated heart, this chain of bodies, spirits, and worlds. O the dreams of savants! O how profoundly chimerical! God holds the chain in his hand, and he is not in any way enchained; by his beneficent will all is determined; he is free, he is just, he is never implacable. Why then do we suffer under so equitable a master?[4]

My point in mentioning all of this (and many more examples could be cited!) is simply to say that Naomi’s response is quite natural given her devastating loss.

²⁰ She said to them, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. ²¹ I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?”

Perhaps you have felt like that. Perhaps you feel like that right now. The sentiment is understandable as a raw emotional response. However, as people of God, we need to speak back to our own bitterness and our own pain with gospel truth. So allow me to make two further observations about Naomi’s bitterness that I think must be made.

Naomi’s bitterness was the result of her refusal to imagine that God might be creatively blessing her in unforeseen and nearby ways.

It could just be that pain oftentimes blinds us to God’s more creative blessings. I would propose that this happened in the case of Naomi. As you hear her complaint, you will notice something interesting about the way in which she refers to God.

²⁰ She said to them, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. ²¹ I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?” ^22a So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab.

In verse 20 and the end of verse 21, Naomi refers to God as “the Almighty.” In doing so, she is using the Hebrew word shaddai, “almighty.” Many of you will remember the great Christian song “El Shaddai” from some years back. This is that word, but without the “El.” “El Shaddai” means “God Almighty,” but Naomi refers to God simply as “Shaddai,” “the Almighty.” That is interesting because the “el” is almost never dropped from that divine title unless somebody is speaking in poetic form. In prose, it is very unusual. But this is the word that Naomi uses in her complaint.

Leon Morris has offered some helpful insights on the word and what is likely happening here.

Naomi thinks of the irresistible power of God. When he determined that bitterness should enter her life there was no other possibility. It is worth noticing that, while the name šadday is sometimes used in contexts of blessing, it is also found when it is the severity as well as the power of the Lord that is in mind (e.g. Isa. 13: 6; Joel 1: 15). This is one of very few places where it stands alone in prose (this is not unusual in poetry, but in prose ‘God Almighty’ is more common). F. I. Andersen points out that Naomi’s speech may well be poetry. In verse 22 šadday is found in good, poetic parallelism.

The divine name rendered the Almighty in Ruth 1: 21 is the Hebrew šadday. This term is used in this way forty-eight times. It is especially common in the book of Job where it is found thirty-one times. In prose it is often linked with ’el in the expression translated ‘God almighty’, but in poetry it commonly stands alone, though ’el may be used in parallelism (e.g. Job 8: 3)…

When Naomi then says ‘šadday hath dealt very bitterly with me’ and ‘šadday hath afflicted me’ (Ruth 1: 20f., AV) the emphasis will be on God’s great power. He cannot be resisted. If he sends disaster on anyone, that disaster cannot be averted. The book, of course, goes on to bring out the complementary thought that God in his grace has mercy on his people. But our author does not choose to use this name of God when he brings out the point.[5]

With that in mind, remember that we early noted how Ruth the Moabitess took the name of God, Yahweh, on her lips in responding to Naomi’s earlier plea for her to return to Moab with Orpah. In other words, Ruth, a foreigner, takes the name Yahweh in her trust but Naomi, a Jew, refers to Him oddly as the Almighty in her bitterness.

It is almost as if Naomi is coldly referring to God as “the Power” to explain her pain. There is an indictment here. “The Almighty, the Power, has testified against me and brought calamity upon me. He did this to me!” Moffatt translates verse 20 as, “call me Mara, for the Almighty has cruelly marred me.”[6]

Hardee Kennedy makes the interesting proposal that “Naomi’s spirit was not less harsh than that of the gossiping women who judged her. Indeed, the religious viewpoint from which she interpreted her misfortune as divine punishment was essentially the same as theirs.”[7] Fascinating! Many of the Bethlehemite women were undoubtedly judging Naomi whereas Naomi was judging God!

But do you notice a kind of poignant irony that the author of Ruth slips in there?

²⁰ She said to them, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. ²¹ I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?” ^22a So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab.

“I went away full,” Naomi complains, “and the Lord has brought me back empty.”

“I have nothing!”

“I have nothing!”

And then the author of Ruth says this in verse 22: “So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab.”

While Noami is bitterly complaining about how God has taken everything from her and how God has testified against her and how God has wounded her and how the Almighty has ruined her, who is standing right behind her hearing all of this?

Ruth!

If you read this rightly, a terrible feeling of awkwardness starts coming over you. How did Ruth feel standing there hearing this? How did the women feel hearing this and cutting eyes nervously at this odd foreign girl standing behind her? And how could Naomi have allowed her pain to blind her to such an extent that she never stopped to think that all her loss, and all the pain that God allowed, and all the misery and the tears and the funerals and the loss might have been for His unforeseen, creative, and right-under-her-nose purpose of getting Ruth to Judah so she could eventually become King David’s great-grandmother, one of the heroine’s of Israel’s story, and eventually take her place in Matthew 1 in the genealogy of the Lord Jesus herself?

Church, I am not trying to be cold and stoic about your pain, but is it not just possible that sometimes it is not always about us? Is it possible that God has a plan that goes beyond us and that if He must at times use pain to bring about a greater good for the world He will do so?

Naomi was too busy whining to stop and consider the possibility that this weird extra baggage standing sheepishly behind her might be the whole point of the great drama she found herself in.

Naomi’s bitterness was the result of her allowing the moon of her personal tragedy to eclipse the sun of God’s larger, more amazing blessings.

Furthermore, Naomi allowed her pain to eclipse the greater blessings of God on others. Do you remember why Naomi went to Moab in the first place?

⁶ Then she arose with her daughters-in-law to return from the country of Moab, for she had heard in the fields of Moab that the Lord had visited his people and given them food.

There you go. They went to Moab in the first place because there was no food in Judah. There was no food! And did you notice the last little sentence of our text?

²² So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab. And they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest.

Have you ever seen an eclipse? A solar eclipse is when the moon passes between the earth and the sun, obscuring the sun in part or in whole. Now, I find this fascinating. It is fascinating because the moon is relatively small. The moon is 27% the size of the earth. The moon has a radius of 1,079.6 miles. The earth’s radius is 3,959 miles. So the moon is relatively small compared the earth. But the earth is very small compared to the sun. The sun has a radius of 432,450 miles. That means that the sun’s radius is about 110 times the radius of the earth.

But that raises a question. How on earth (no pun intended) can an object that is 75% smaller than the earth essentially blot out an object that is 110 times larger than the earth?

The answer is that although the sun’s diameter is 400 times larger than the moon, the sun is 400 times farther away. So a smaller object that is closer to us can blot out a much larger object that is farther from us.

I propose to you that this is what is happening to Naomi in our text and this is what happens to you and to me all the time! Our pain and our loss and our tragedy is the moon. Compared to the wider world, it is relatively small, true, but it is oh so close. But behind the moon of our own circumstances is the gigantic sun of God’s greater and wider and deeper work in the world, but these seem far away in moments of pain and suffering.

So we return to the barley harvest.

²² So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab. And they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest.

The text allows us to identify when the events that we are reading about happened since it locates them “at the beginning of barley harvest,” which is mid-to-late-April.[8]

They left Judah because of a famine. There was no food.

In Moab, calamity befell Naomi.

She returned to Judah because she heard God had removed the famine. They returned “at the beginning of barley harvest.”

When Naomi returned to Bethlehem and launches her bitter complaint against God, she allows the moon of her own suffering to eclipse and blind her to two amazing blessings: (1) the young lady standing behind her and (2) the men and women working the barley harvest standing behind the ladies.

All around Naomi were the deep, deep blessings of a good and merciful God but she could not and would not see it. Why? Because she had allowed her pain to get so close that it blotted out the horizon. It was all she could see.

Dear friends, God does not begrudge your pain, your tears, your questions, your fears…God is not stoic and unfeeling toward you! But hear me: if you allow your personal loss and your personal pain to get so close that it eclipses everything else around you, you are going to miss out on some amazing things that God is doing!

God knows this. God knows that we can only see 10 inches in front of our own faces. We are all obsessed with and dominated by the small moon of our own reality. But God knows the principle: that that which is closest determines how we do and do not see everything else. So God looked upon our blindness and said, “Then I will simply have to get even closer.”

And that is why Jesus came.

Jesus is Immanuel, God with us, God in front of us, God in our faces eclipsing the moon of our own pain with His saving sacrifice and audacious love.

The Christian only allows pain and loss to have dominance when they allow that pain and that loss to get between them and Jesus. But Jesus came to get between you and your pain. Our sight should be dominated by the cross on which He consumed our pain in His own.

Let Jesus get between you and your bitterness. View your bitterness through the lens of Jesus instead of viewing Jesus through the lens of your bitterness and amazing things will begin to happen!

Beware the example of Naomi. There are blessing standing all around you. And the blessing is named Jesus. And He loves you very much. Lift up your eyes and look upon Him!

[1] Kirsten Nielson, Ruth. The Old Testament Library. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997), p.51.

[2] Joseph Heller, Catch-22 (New York, NY: Everyman’s Library, 1995), p.223-224.

[3] Leo Tolstoy, The Death of Ivan Ilyich. (New York, NY: Bantam Dell, 1981), p.100.

[4] David Bentley Hart, The Doors of the Sea. (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdman’s Publishing Co., 2005), p.16-22.

[5] Arthur E. Cundall and Leon Morris (2008-09-19). TOTC Judges & Ruth (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries) (Kindle Locations 3836-3841, 3860-3863, 3913-3916). Inter-Varsity Press. Kindle Edition.

[6] Quoted in Arthur E. Cundall and Leon Morris (2008-09-19). TOTC Judges & Ruth (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries) (Kindle Locations 3833-3834). Inter-Varsity Press. Kindle Edition.

[7] J. Hardee Kennedy, Ruth. The Broadman Bible Commentary. Vol. 2. Gen. Ed., Clifton J. Allen (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1970), p.470.

[8] John H. Walton, Victor H. Matthews and Mark W. Chavalas, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), p.278.

On Sunday, November 8, of last year British just war theorist Nigel Biggar debated the provocative and always-interesting Christian pacifist Stanley Hauerwas on the relevant issues and questions concerning this fascinating topic on Justin Brierley’s “Unbelievable?” broadcast.  I thought the debate was so thought-provoking that I would post a link to the audio here (mp3 link).  Check it out.

Ruth 1:6-18

⁶ Then she arose with her daughters-in-law to return from the country of Moab, for she had heard in the fields of Moab that the Lord had visited his people and given them food. ⁷ So she set out from the place where she was with her two daughters-in-law, and they went on the way to return to the land of Judah. ⁸ But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go, return each of you to her mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me. ⁹ The Lord grant that you may find rest, each of you in the house of her husband!” Then she kissed them, and they lifted up their voices and wept. ¹⁰ And they said to her, “No, we will return with you to your people.” ¹¹ But Naomi said, “Turn back, my daughters; why will you go with me? Have I yet sons in my womb that they may become your husbands? ¹² Turn back, my daughters; go your way, for I am too old to have a husband. If I should say I have hope, even if I should have a husband this night and should bear sons, ¹³ would you therefore wait till they were grown? Would you therefore refrain from marrying? No, my daughters, for it is exceedingly bitter to me for your sake that the hand of the Lord has gone out against me.” ¹⁴ Then they lifted up their voices and wept again. And Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her. ¹⁵ And she said, “See, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and to her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” ¹⁶ But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. ¹⁷ Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.” ¹⁸ And when Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more.

A couple of years ago an Episcopal church in Washington, D.C. hoisted a large banner on the side of their sanctuary that read, “Conversation, Not Conversion.” The intent of the banner was clear enough. It was intended to communicate that this particular church was one in which visitors would not be unduly pressed (or pressed at all?) to convert to Christianity. Rather, this was a place of non-threatening conversation. This kind of language is becoming more and more commonplace among churches that, understandably, wish to distance themselves from some of the cruder and more obnoxious forms of pressure-tactic-evangelism. I am wholly sympathetic to wanting to distance oneself from such. However, one does wonder if this slogan, “Conversation, Not Conversion,” might also be a demonstration of our current societal aversion to the idea of truth or ultimate truth. My more cynical self wonders if the reason we say things like this is because ultimately we do not think that anything can be known with enough certainty that it calls for conversion.

After all, conversion happens when a person sees a particular truth claim as so compelling that they can no longer imagine holding on to their current position in the light of what they now know. Conversion entails both acceptance and abandonment.

Ruth 1:6-18 is a text that contains a scene that many consider to be a definitive depiction on conversation. I am speaking of Ruth’s refusal to abandon Naomi as Naomi leaves Moab to return home to Judah and as Naomi declares herself for Yahweh and for His people. Many Jews view Ruth’s actions and declaration in Ruth 1:16-17 as the ultimate model of conversion. Kirsten Nielsen explains:

In Jewish tradition these are the very words that are used as an example for the proselyte to follow. That Ruth is seen as the prototype of a proselyte is already clear from the Targum to Ruth 1:16, where Naomi explains to Ruth the demands of the law on the convert. In the Targum to Ruth 2:6 Ruth is described as a proselyte, while in connection with Ruth 3:11 she is said to be strong enough to bear the yoke of the Lord’s law.[1]

Katharine Doob Sankenfeld offers further insights on how early Jewish converts used Ruth as a model for conversion.

Rabbinic writers interpreted her speech as a declaration of conversion and deduced from her words requirements to be accepted by all converts. A “catechism of proselytism” was developed in which each of her phrases was related to aspects of Jewish life…[2]

It is actually an interesting question to ask just how much Ruth really knew about Yahweh and the Jews. In other words, was she really a convert per se? I think we must answer this question in the affirmative. To be sure, Ruth undoubtedly had much growing to do in terms of her understanding of God and His people. Even so, her ultimate declaration of allegiance to Yahweh God and to the people of God and to her mother-in-law in particular can only accurately be spoken of in terms of a radical life change, a stunning course correction, or a conversion.

Whatever you choose to call it, Old Testament scholar Daniel Block is surely correct when he writes that, “The first words we hear from Ruth’s lips alone are among the most memorable in all of Scripture. Few utterances in the Bible match her speech for sheer poetic beauty, and the extraordinary courage and spirituality it expresses.”[3]

Let us then consider Ruth’s behavior and her words in terms of what they communicate about the nature of true conversion.

Ruth wanted a relationship with God and not merely a vague religion.

We begin with Naomi’s attempt to placate her daughters-in-law with a divine blessing.

⁸ But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go, return each of you to her mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me. ⁹ The Lord grant that you may find rest, each of you in the house of her husband!” Then she kissed them, and they lifted up their voices and wept.

What we have here is a widowed lady trying to say goodbye to her Moabite daughter-in-law. In doing so, she offers them kindness in the form of a divine blessing. I am not suggesting that Naomi did not sincerely mean the blessing she invoked. She did indeed wish for God to show kindness to these dear girls. However, I would like to propose that Ruth the Moabite understood Naomi’s blessing more than Naomi did. I will go further. I would like to propose that Naomi’s blessing was sincere but deficient. She intended it as a duel function blessing: to bless and to dismiss. Ruth, however, showed that she understood the nature of Yahweh more than her mother-in-law who invoked the divine name.

To get at this, we need to understand what was meant by the phrase, “May the Lord deal kindly with you.” In saying this, Naomi was invoking the idea of hesed, the lovingkindess of God. This is a profound and theologically rich word, and many argue that it comprises in itself the very theme of the entire book of Ruth. Katharine Doob Sakenfeld has helpfully defined the term.

The blessing incorporates the first of a series of uses of the Hebrew term hesed, variously translated as kindness, lovingkindness, faithfulness, or loyalty…In the Hebrew Bible hesed refers to an action by one person on behalf of another under circumstances that meet three main criteria. First, the action is essential to the survival or basic well-being of the recipient…Furthermore, the needed action is one that only the person doing the act of hesed is in a position to provide…Finally, an act of hesed takes place or is requested within the context of an existing, established, and positive relationship between the persons involved.[4]

So we can see that Naomi is using a term that is pregnant with meaning and significance. However, she is regrettably using it in an attempt to say goodbye to Ruth and Orpah and to leave them in a foreign land committed to pagan gods.

Ruth, who is ironically a much better theologian than Naomi, reveals that she is not content with a spiritual blessing that was not even being consistently applied by Naomi.

¹⁶ But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.

Naomi seeks to placate the girls by invoking the divine name over them as she leaves them. Ruth, however, refuses to content herself with a mere blessing, with overtures of spirituality. It is as if Ruth is saying, “No, you cannot leave me with a blessing in the name of Yahweh. I do not want vague spiritually. I want Yahweh Himself! I want to know Him and His people. I will not be so easily dismissed by such inconsistent religiosity. How can Yahweh show me hesed if I remain among pagan gods.”

It is as if we tried to dismiss somebody with a “God bless you!” and they said, “Wait. If He’s going to bless me I need to know Him!”

True conversion means wanting more of God and wanting a relationship with God. It means not only wanting the hesed, the lovingkindness of God, but wanting to know Him personally so that you can see and experience and embrace His lovingkindness.

Ruth came to God despite practical and theological obstacles to her doing so.

Ruth wanted more than a spiritual blessing. And the intensity of her desire to know God is further demonstrated in her refusal to let the obstacles that Naomi and their circumstances present her to derail her.

⁸ But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go, return each of you to her mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me. ⁹ The Lord grant that you may find rest, each of you in the house of her husband!” Then she kissed them, and they lifted up their voices and wept. ¹⁰ And they said to her, “No, we will return with you to your people.” ¹¹ But Naomi said, “Turn back, my daughters; why will you go with me? Have I yet sons in my womb that they may become your husbands? ¹² Turn back, my daughters; go your way, for I am too old to have a husband. If I should say I have hope, even if I should have a husband this night and should bear sons, ¹³ would you therefore wait till they were grown? Would you therefore refrain from marrying? No, my daughters, for it is exceedingly bitter to me for your sake that the hand of the Lord has gone out against me.” ¹⁴ Then they lifted up their voices and wept again. And Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her.

Honestly, Naomi’s efforts to deter Ruth from following her to Judah put Naomi in the “worst evangelist ever category”! When Ruth and Orpah initially refuse Naomi’s efforts to leave them behind, Ruth responds with an emotional screed concerning her own misfortune. Her arguments seem to escalate. First she points out that she is not pregnant. In verse 11, when Naomi asks, “Have I yet sons in my womb?” she uses the Hebrew word mehim, which means basically “my guts,” instead of the Hebrew words beten or rehem which refer to the womb.[5] This demonstrates the increasingly emotional and raw nature of Naomi’s reaction to her daughter-in-laws’ initial refusal to leave her.

Her allusion to yet-unborn sons who might theoretically marry the girls is likely a reference to the idea of levirate marriage. We find this teaching in Deuteronomy 25.

⁵ “If brothers dwell together, and one of them dies and has no son, the wife of the dead man shall not be married outside the family to a stranger. Her husband’s brother shall go in to her and take her as his wife and perform the duty of a husband’s brother to her. ⁶ And the first son whom she bears shall succeed to the name of his dead brother, that his name may not be blotted out of Israel. ⁷ And if the man does not wish to take his brother’s wife, then his brother’s wife shall go up to the gate to the elders and say, ‘My husband’s brother refuses to perpetuate his brother’s name in Israel; he will not perform the duty of a husband’s brother to me.’ ⁸ Then the elders of his city shall call him and speak to him, and if he persists, saying, ‘I do not wish to take her,’ ⁹ then his brother’s wife shall go up to him in the presence of the elders and pull his sandal off his foot and spit in his face. And she shall answer and say, ‘So shall it be done to the man who does not build up his brother’s house.’ ¹⁰ And the name of his house shall be called in Israel, ‘The house of him who had his sandal pulled off.’

Scholars debate whether or not this was what she had in mind, but it seems that her argument is at least somewhat connected to the idea.

She moves from complaining about having no more children to pointing out that she was too old to have a husband to complaining about God Himself. She bemoans that the hand of God has gone out against her. In saying this, she is revealing the nature of her spiritual disposition at this time. She is angry. This is understandable, given her loss, but she has clearly cast her lot with bitterness instead of trust. “Sharing the inadequate religious ideas of her people,” J. Hardee Kennedy writes of Naomi’s grief, “she associated life’s adverse experiences with the punitive acts (hand) of God.”[6]

Thus Naomi throws up roadblocks before Ruth. And there were other obstacles. For instance, if Ruth returned with Naomi then the tables would be turned: Ruth would find herself a widow in a foreign land. Furthermore, if the Jews rejected Ruth as a foreigner then she would truly be a woman without a country: unwelcomed in Judah but already having repudiated her own homeland.

Even so, despite all the protests, Ruth clings to Naomi! She determines to trust in Yahweh God and embrace the people of God. She could not have known how it would all work out, but none of that mattered. She was overwhelmed by a vision of God and His people and she would not be deterred.

There are 1,000 reasons not to trust Jesus! Coming to Jesus might cost you your family, your job, your friends, or your very life! The person who is unwilling to trust with all their heart, soul, and mind will always and ever be mindful of these obstacles. However, the true convert will, like Ruth, be so determined to have a relationship with God and be in his family that he will be unable to stay away.

Ruth was willing to say the name of the true God and stop saying the names of the false ones.

The purity and intensity of Ruth’s commitment can also be seen in her saying the name of the one true God. Listen closely:

¹⁵ And she said, “See, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and to her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” ¹⁶ But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. ¹⁷ Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.”

In verse 15, when Naomi points out that Orpah had “gone back to her people and to her gods” she uses there the general name for God, Elohim, though here it can be translated in the plural, gods, as well. “Your sister went back to her gods.” But it is telling that when Ruth says “your God [will be] my God” she uses the Hebrew divine name, Yahweh, instead of the name that foreigners would normally use for God, Elohim.[7]

This is most significant. Again we see Ruth’s repudiation of vague spirituality and her insistence on a particular God: Yahweh, the only true God. This is profoundly significant. “Since one appeals to one’s own deity to enforce an oath,” Robert Hubbard writes, “she clearly implies that Yahweh, not Chemosh, is now her God, the guardian of her future. Hence, while the OT has no fully developed idea of conversion, vv.16-17 suggests a commitment tantamount to such a change.”[8]

Indeed it does! To convert to Christ means to be willing to take His name, to say His name, to insist on no other name.

I am a great admirer of Methodist theologian Tom Oden. I have been since I first heard him lecture at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, Texas, when I was a student there. That being said, I am frustrated at Oden’s oft-repeated story concerning the Jewish scholar Will Herberg and his desire to convert to Christianity. Here is what Oden writes:

[Will] Herberg had weighty conversations with Reinhold Niebuhr on theology and seemed on the verge of converting to Christianity. Niebuhr urged him to rediscover his Jewish roots by studying Judaica at the Jewish Theological Seminary, which was just across the street from Union Theological Seminary. An irony worth noting: Herberg became a Jew by listening to a Christian; I became a Christian by listening to a Jew.[9]

This is supposed to be a kind of charming story. I do not find it to be charming at all. When a person wants to convert to Christ you do not dissuade them! If a person wants to know Jesus, the only way to the Father, you celebrate that!

Ruth wanted to know God and God alone and she would give ear to no discouragements. On the contrary, she dared to speak His name: Yahweh.

Ruth made a commitment that was decisive and for life.

And then there is the extent of her commitment. In short, it was decisive and it was for life. We can first see this in the closing verb of verse 14.

¹⁴ Then they lifted up their voices and wept again. And Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her.

“Ruth clung to her.” Tellingly, the word translated “clung” is the Hebrew dbq which is the same word used in Genesis 2:24, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast [cling] to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” In other words, this is the verb the Lord God used when He instituted marriage upon the earth. This is not to say that this was a marriage. Of course it was not. It is simply to say that this was an intense clinging that reveals a fierce determination on Ruth’s part not to be separated from Naomi, her people, or her God.

Then we see Ruth’s beautiful proclamation.

¹⁶ But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. ¹⁷ Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.” ¹⁸ And when Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more.

“Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried.” This is for life! She is not setting her feet on a path with any intention of ever looking back! In fact, she invokes a curse upon herself if she does so: “May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.” That is an interesting way of putting it, especially as Ruth does not name the punishment for her actions. Many Old Testament scholars suggest that such an oath was oftentimes accompanied by a hand motion communicating doom, such as a thumb slid across the throat. Likely Ruth did something very much like that when saying these words. In other words, if anything other than death separated her from Naomi, her people, and her God, this is what God would do to her.

Leon Morris has commented on the question of how much Ruth knew in this conversion of hers.

Her trust may not have been well informed, but it was real. Simeon remarks, “Her views of religion might not be clear: but it is evident that a principle of vital godliness was rooted in her heart, and powerfully operative in her life. In fact, she acted in perfect conformity with that injunction that was afterwards given by our Lord, ‘Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple’.”[10]

Yes, she does obey the words of Jesus about forsaking all. She determines that this will be her new life, her new mode of existence, her new identity. Ambrose of Milan would later argue that Ruth is therefore an example for all converts to Christianity to emulate as well.

Ruth entered the church and was made an Israelite, and [she] deserved to be counted among God’s greatest servants; chosen on account of the kinship of her soul, not her body. We should emulate her because just as she deserved this prerogative because of her behavior, [we] may be counted among the favored elect in the church of the Lord. Continuing in our Father’s house, we might, through her example, say to him who, like Paul or any other bishop, [who] calls us to worship God, your people are my people, and your God my God.[11]

Oh Church, consider what a true conversion looks like. It looks like Ruth turning her back on her old gods and her old life and taking hold in an act of radical commitment of the God of Israel, the God who is above all other gods. When you consider your standing with Jesus, can you say that you have done this? Have you? Have you taken hold of Christ? Have you decided that the obstacles no longer matter and that you simply must be counted among God’s people? Have you bid farewell to your old life, your old views, your old sins, your old habits?

I pray it is so! Come to Jesus. Say His name. Take His hand.

He is faithful to save.

[1] Kirsten Nielson, Ruth. The Old Testament Library. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997), p.49.

[2] Katharine Doob Sankenfeld, Ruth. Interpretation. (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1999), p.32.

[3] Daniel I. Block, Judges, Ruth. The New American Commentary. Vol. 6. Gen. Ed., E. Ray Clendenen. (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 1999), p.640.

[4] Katharine Doob Sankenfeld, p.24.

[5] Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., The Book of Ruth. The New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1988), p.109.

[6] J. Hardee Kennedy, Ruth. The Broadman Bible Commentary. Vol. 2. Gen. Ed., Clifton J. Allen (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1970), p.469.

[7] J. Hardee Kennedy, p.469.

[8] Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., p.120.

[9] Oden, Thomas C. (2014-11-06). A Change of Heart: A Personal and Theological Memoir (p. 134). InterVarsity Press. Kindle Edition.

[10] Arthur E. Cundall and Leon Morris (2008-09-19). TOTC Judges & Ruth (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries) (Kindle Locations 3798-3801). Inter-Varsity Press. Kindle Edition.

[11] John R. Franke, ed., Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1-2 Samuel. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. Old Testament IV. Gen. ed., Thomas C. Oden (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2005), p.184.

Exodus 13:17-22

¹⁷ When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was near. For God said, “Lest the people change their minds when they see war and return to Egypt.” ¹⁸ But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. And the people of Israel went up out of the land of Egypt equipped for battle. ¹⁹ Moses took the bones of Joseph with him, for Joseph had made the sons of Israel solemnly swear, saying, “God will surely visit you, and you shall carry up my bones with you from here.” ²⁰ And they moved on from Succoth and encamped at Etham, on the edge of the wilderness. ²¹ And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them along the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, that they might travel by day and by night. ²² The pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night did not depart from before the people.

Everybody everywhere needs encouragement, maybe especially in the Church.

I grew up, as some of you might have grown up, hearing preaching that oftentimes lacked encouragement. I do not wish to slander the good men who pastored me as a boy. I do not even claim that they failed to encourage. Perhaps it was more my perception than anything else. But, especially as a younger boy, this was certainly my perception: that the Christian life was a grueling journey in which the primary feeling I should feel is disappointment with myself and fear of the wrath of God.

I would go so far as to say that in popular Southern religion of yesteryear, this was a staple of preaching. Good preaching, the assumption seemed to be, was preaching that broke you under the weight of your own sin and the account you would one day give of yourself before God.

Do not get me wrong: I do believe we should feel the seriousness of sin and be aware of the judgment to come, but it does strike me as odd that a people committed to the good news of the gospel and the liberating power of Christ would be so morose in their walks!

No, everybody everywhere needs encouragement. The Lord demonstrated this in His dealings with His people. To be sure, the Lord disciplined and disciplines His children. He says the hard word when it is needed. He reveals the painful realities of our hearts. But He also encourages.

One beautiful example of this can be seen in His treatment of Israel as they exited Egypt and began moving toward the Red Sea. Here we see the amazing comfort and encouragement of God demonstrated in some quite powerful and unique ways. Let us consider the encouragement that God gives us, and let us claim it as our own, for our great God is unchanging in His ways.

God encourages us by often taking us through trials that are less than others He might have taken us through.

We first see how God encourages us in the way that He led the children of Israel away from an initial trial that would have been too daunting for His people at the time.

¹⁷ When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was near. For God said, “Lest the people change their minds when they see war and return to Egypt.” ¹⁸ But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. And the people of Israel went up out of the land of Egypt equipped for battle.

This is most interesting. The most direct road to the promised land led straight through the land of the Philistines. Because of this, God decided to take them on the longer route. Why? Because He knew that the bloodshed the Israelites would encounter in any clash with the Philistines would cause many of them to want to return to Egypt. Douglas Stewart explains;

We know…that the Philistines were so daunting a fighting force at the time of the conquest, forty years later and beyond, that even at Joshua’s death their territory remained unconquered (cf. Josh 13:1-5). We also know that they were bold enough to attack Egypt proper in an effort to capture territory in the days of Ramses III, that is, about 1188 BC, suggesting that they considered themselves at that time – considerably after the Israelites had entered Canaan – potentially able to defeat even the Egyptians, depending on the circumstances. Accordingly, God did not want his people to try to enter Canaan directly by the well-established coastal road from Egypt, the Via Maris, even though that was by far the shortest and easiest route from the point of view of travel time and theoretical convenience. The Via Maris led right through the heart of Philistine territory.[1]

Here is one of the ways that God encourages us: He oftentimes takes us through challenges that are less than they might have been.

At this point, we should address an obvious objection: how on earth is facing the Red Sea with an Egyptian army closing fast on you less of a challenge than facing the Philistines? The answer is clear enough: the Lord God obviously felt that it was. Likely this was because of the fact that the Red Sea, though obviously a jaw dropping obstacle and challenge, was one before which God knew that none of the Israelites would actually die. Better a fright to the system leading to awestruck praise than survival of a brutal battle in which many of the Jews would have died.

So the point stands, amazing though it is: in taking the Israelites to the edge of the Red Sea instead of through the land of the Philistines God was actually taking them through a less daunting and taxing challenge. And so He often does with us. I say “often” because, obviously, God does not always take us around the most difficult challenges. Sometimes He does indeed take us right through the heart of them. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” Even so, He oftentimes does not, as in our text, and for this we should give Him praise and thanks.

This truth should lead us to do two things. First, it should lead us to appreciate the fact that the trial we are facing at any given moment, while difficult, could most likely be much worse. Stop and think the next time you find yourself in dire straits: God likely allowed this to happen by not allowing something even worse to happen. That is a dose of perspective that we sorely need.

Secondly, it should cause us to be careful with judging the length of time in which God leaves us in our trials. Remember: the Jews had to take a much longer route, but, in so doing, they avoided pain that many of them would have found too much to handle. Let us remember when we doggedly complain about how long this or that challenge or trial has been pestering us that it could just be that the price of ending it more quickly would be facing an even more brutal challenge. Do not complain about the longer road that takes you around the greater trial.

God encourages us by never forgetting a promise.

God also encourages us by never forgetting His promises to His people. Consider verse 19:

¹⁹ Moses took the bones of Joseph with him, for Joseph had made the sons of Israel solemnly swear, saying, “God will surely visit you, and you shall carry up my bones with you from here.”

As they left, Moses took the bones of Joseph. Why? Because Joseph had prophesied that they one day would carry his bones out of Egypt. We read of this in Genesis 50.

²² So Joseph remained in Egypt, he and his father’s house. Joseph lived 110 years. ²³ And Joseph saw Ephraim’s children of the third generation. The children also of Machir the son of Manasseh were counted as Joseph’s own. ²⁴ And Joseph said to his brothers, “I am about to die, but God will visit you and bring you up out of this land to the land that he swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.” ²⁵ Then Joseph made the sons of Israel swear, saying, “God will surely visit you, and you shall carry up my bones from here.” ²⁶ So Joseph died, being 110 years old. They embalmed him, and he was put in a coffin in Egypt.

It is important to notice that Joseph’s prophecy was rooted in the promise of God: “God will surely visit you.” On what basis could Joseph make such a bold assertion? On the basis of the covenants of God. God made a covenant with Abraham that He would bless him and his offspring and give them a land and a home and a name. As Joseph lay dying in Egypt, he knew that God would be true to His word. And God was! Thus, we read of God’s remembrance of His promise in Exodus 2.

²³ During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. ²⁴ And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. ²⁵ God saw the people of Israel—and God knew.

Peter Enns rightly observes that “God delivers Israel from Egypt not because they somehow deserve it, but because he has a promise to keep to Abraham and the other patriarchs.”[2] That is true! He does indeed have a promise to keep…and He always keeps His promises.

Whatever else you might think of this beautiful fact, it should be for you a source of great encouragement. God is true to His word. He will not abandon you. He will not forsake you. He will not leave you in Egypt forever, but only for a time. He will come to you. He does love you. He has not forgotten you!

God encourages us by giving us signs of His presence in the day and in the night.

God has given His people His word, but, as we see in our text, He also gives us reminders of His presence. The signs of His presence that He gave to Israel on their exodus journey were startling indeed.

²⁰ And they moved on from Succoth and encamped at Etham, on the edge of the wilderness. ²¹ And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them along the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, that they might travel by day and by night. ²² The pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night did not depart from before the people.

A pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire! God was leading His people as He manifested Himself in cloud and fire. This is one of the most well known miracles in the Bible. Of course, skeptics cannot help but propose naturalistic theories attempting to explain away the miraculous nature of the pillars. In particular, two naturalistic theories have been proposed.

First, some have proposed that the pillars of cloud and fire were the result of volcanic activity. There had been an eruption on the Island of Thera in 1628 B.C. that destroyed Minoan civilization. The effects might theoretically have still been visible. But the dates do not really work and it cannot explain the guided movement of the pillar to the southeast.

Others have proposed that the pillars were “the result of a brazier of some sort carried on a pole that would be used by the vanguard scouts.” But the pillar “is always portrayed as acting…rather than being operated,” as Walton, Matthews, and Chavalas put it in The IVP Bible Background Commentary.[3]

Such theories are enslaved to a naturalistic view of life that has no room for the miraculous. Let me simply say that trying to read the book of Exodus from a naturalistic perspective must be a very frustrating enterprise, for it is filled to the brim with miraculous displays of God’s power. The pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire is simply one of many such examples.

Why did God manifest Himself in such a visible way? Whatever other reasons we might point to, His desire to encourage His people must certainly be included. He wanted them to know that they were not alone. Douglas Stewart put it nicely when he wrote:

By reason of being guided by the pillar, the Israelites knew all day every day that God was present with them. Here was a supernatural, huge, and visible reminder that Yahweh was the head of his people as they marched or encamped, whether by day or by night…He manifested himself in the form of a pillar of cloud/fire for their benefit.[4]

Yes, it truly was for their benefit. It was God telling them that He would walk with them each step of the way.

As a boy I used to ask God on occasion to manifest Himself in a visible way to me. I recall doing this in the backyard when nobody else was around. It did not seem too much to me for God to give me just one little sign of His presence. In doing this, I was committing two errors: (1) I was testing God and (2) I was falling into the trap of thinking that visible displays were the only or even the best ways that God could show Himself to me.

As I have walked with Jesus, I have learned that God has in fact given His people numerous signs of His presence. One sign I would like to mention is the Lord’s Supper. You may have not thought of it in these terms, but the Lord’s Supper is an established, divinely sanctioned, consistently repeated visible symbol of the presence of God with His people. The elements of bread and juice both remind us of the saving work of Christ and remind us of the abiding presence of Christ with His people. They are, in a certain sense, our pillar of cloud and of fire.

And there is another visible and tangible evidence of God with us: each other. If the Church is the body of Christ that means that we have the privilege of being Christ to each other here and now. I do not mean ontologically, of course. We are never literally Christ. But when we love each other and forgive each other and help each other and encourage each other, Christ is present in the love and the forgiveness and the help and the encouragement. Would you like to see God visibly displayed? Then live the life of Christ for the person sitting next to you in the pew. Live the life of Christ and you will see it displayed in a powerful way.

God has not left the world without a witness of His existence and presence. The truth of the matter is that we oftentimes simply forget that we are the witness He has left! Would you like to see your brother or your sister encouraged by a divine sign? Then love them like Jesus loves you and lay down your life for one another. Then, God can be clearly seen in the changed lives of His people.

Church, be the encouragement you want and recognize the encouragement God gives.

[1] Douglas K. Stuart, Exodus. The New American Commentary. Vol 2. Gen. Ed., E. Ray Clendenen (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 2006), p.322.

[2] Peter Enns, Exodus. The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2000), p.27.

[3] John H. Walton, Victor H. Matthews and Mark W. Chavalas, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), p.89-90.

[4] Douglas K. Stuart, p.328.

When I was in the Doctor of Ministry program at the Beeson Divinity School of Samford University, I met Dr. James Earl Massey.  Dr. Massey is a venerable and highly respected African American preacher.  I had never heard of Dr. Massey before coming to Beeson, though throughout my time there I came deeply to respect and appreciate this remarkable man and his ministry.  I was especially honored to sit under his teaching in a doctoral seminar on homiletics.

Beeson recently tweeted a link to a chapel sermon in which the 85-year-old preacher showed why he has earned the esteem of so many.  It struck me as profoundly poignant, and I even showed this sermon to Central Baptist Church last Wednesday night.  Trust me:  this will be a blessing to you, as evidenced by the number of Central members last Wednesday who asked me to send them the link to this sermon.  Check it out.

Just a little note that this coming Sunday, April 19, I will begin preaching through the book of Ruth on Sunday mornings at Central Baptist Church.  This will be an eight-part series.

In the evenings I will be picking back up in Exodus 13, where we stopped in August of 2013.

The audio of both will be posted each week in the sidebar to the right.  You can also check the sermon archives for previous sermons in the book of Exodus if you would like to get caught up.

Chalk this up under “interesting theological conversations.”  Dr. Roger Olson recently visited my alma mater, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary (SWBTS), upon the invitation of SWBTS President, Dr. Paige Patterson, to discuss soteriology or the doctrine of salvation.  This is a rather interesting development as Dr. Olson is generally considered to be a moderate Baptist (he himself has recently and helpfully distinguished between moderate Baptists and liberal Baptists here, here, and here) and SWBTS is generally considered to be a bastion of fundamentalist Christianity.  Of course, Dr. Patterson, its President, is one of the key architects of the conservative resurgence within the SBC.  So this was an interesting meeting.  Dr. Olson, in his concluding statement, referred to it as even somewhat historic in opening up new avenues of conversation between moderate Baptists and more conservative Baptists.

Why did the meeting happen?  The simple answer is that Dr. Patterson invited Dr. Olson.  Furthermore, the conversation was part of SWBTS’s “Grindstone” series of conversations which are “sharp, theological discussions on topics that matter.”  However, it is almost certainly the case that Dr. Patterson and Dr. Olson’s shared rejection of Calvinism and their shared agreement over the alleged Anabaptist origins of Baptist life played a large part in this.

Regardless, it was a very interesting conversation and I’m glad it happened.  I am offering the video here not because I consider myself an Arminian.  I remain fairly uncomfortable with all labels involved in this debate.  I will say that I agree with Dr. Olson that classical Arminianism as represented in the person and writings of James Arminius is quite different than what most people envision when they say “Arminianism.”

If you would like to hear a soteriological conversation from an Arminian perspective, here is an interesting one.

Last Sunday I showed this video that Central Baptist Minister of Music Billy Davis shared with me last week.  I preached on the heart’s longing for God as evidenced by (1) man’s innate awareness of a higher power as he observes the created order, (2) man’s awareness of objective truth and justice through the human conscience, and (3) man’s penchant for telling, over and over again, stories with gospel overtones.  I felt this video and the poem it contains beautifully demonstrates these truths.  Take a look.