Sermon: Ruth, the Miniseries, part 2
April 25, 2008
By Don Bromley
Summarizing chapter 1; Naomi and her husband Elimelech move from Bethlehem in Judah (southern Israel) to Moab, a neighboring country, with their two sons. Their two sons marry Ruth and Orpah.
All three women are widowed in a short period of time while living in the land of Moab. Naomi decides to return to Bethlehem in Judah, her ancestral home. Ruth, in loving-kindness and loyalty to her mother-in-law, decides to go with Naomi back to Bethlehem.
At this point Naomi is truly low. She’s absorbed with bitter affliction and loneliness of her life.
Here’s how we end chapter 1, Naomi speaking as they return to Judah:
"Don't call me Naomi, " she told them. "Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the LORD has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The LORD has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me." (1:20-21)
Glenn Bugala and Gretchen Wolfe are going to perform a dramatic reading for us, illustrating the events of chapter 2, which I will be speaking on.
[Glenn dramatic reading]
ACT 2, SCENE 1
Now Naomi had a relative on her husband's side, a man of standing from the clan of Elimelek, whose name was Boaz.
And Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, "Let me go to the fields and pick up the leftover grain behind anyone in whose eyes I find favor."
Naomi said to her, "Go ahead, my daughter." So she went out, entered a field and began to glean behind the harvesters. As it turned out, she found herself working in a field belonging to Boaz, who was from the clan of Elimelek.
So Ruth goes out to glean, to pick up the leftover grain, after the harvesters have gone over. That was the rule, that the leftovers were for the poor and the foreigners.
From the book of Leviticus:
"When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner. I am the LORD your God.” (Lev 19:9-10)
This regulation on gleaning comes from the idea that the Earth was the LORD’s, so his people were required to share some his provision with the poor, as acknowledgement that God had mercifully provided for them.
Now…
“as it turned out”; We might be tempted to think of this as “chance” or as an “accident.” In fact, the author writes this with a wink and a nod, because as we read the story we know it has nothing to do with chance or accidents.
The idea of “dumb luck,” or “blind chance” was a foreign one to the Old Testament mind. What made the Hebrew religion unique in all the world was its radical idea that God was a God enmeshed in history—intimately involved in the course of events. The great happenings of history and human lives, both the good and the bad, were orchestrated by God.
The point of the author here is that Ruth didn’t set out to find Boaz, she didn’t even know who he was. But it wasn’t just dumb luck that she happened upon his fields.
We often look at all the circumstances in our lives as a result of either pure random chance or as the logical result of the decisions we’ve made along the way.
We can err to either side. Either, “Things are the way they are because that’s how the dice were rolled, and there’s no real significance to it.”
Or “Things are the way they are because I caused it to happen that way—I made the decisions that brought about these results.”
Neither way of looking at the is completely right or completely wrong—there are things that appear to be just random, and there are things that happen because we set things in motion.
But we just don’t have enough information 99% of the time. How many things, in the history of science, that were once thought to be completely random have been found to obey predictable patterns, if we have the information (earthquakes, eclipses). But likewise, the farther we drill down, as we get to the quantum level, the more random it all seems. We just can’t predict at all.
In our lives, we look at things up close and its just a random series of events, people, places. Like this jumble of images.; we just don’t see the connections. But when you step back you see that it’s not random. There’s a pattern, a story, a design. We see how it all fits together. We see the picture.
I remember the year I first moved to Michigan. Deeply sad and lonely. Just lost my mother to cancer. Didn’t know a soul out here. First night sleeping on a towel by myself in apartment. Felt like Naomi. Bitter affliction of life. No home; an alien in a strange land. Life was empty.
Then connecting with the church. Finding direction in life, receiving prophetic word. Becoming a pastor. Marrying Julie. Having Eve. Another one due in November. Life is so full.
It wasn’t until a few years into my marriage that I was able to step back and see how remarkable my journey has been, and how things that once seemed like pure luck fit together to form a coherent story.
You see, my grandparents on my mother’s side were born in Kalamazoo. All my mom’s siblings were born in the Kalamazoo area. Then my mother’s parents moved to northern California. My mom, the youngest, was born in the Nevada City, California area (only one of seven born in CA). My parents met in college in San Francisco, where I was born. Then they went on to become missionaries, first in San Jose, Costa Rica (where my sister was born), and then to Santiago, Chile (where my brother was born). Then they returned to California, divorced, and my brother, sister, mom and I ended up living back in the Nevada City area, with my step-dad (Rough & Ready). Then they divorced and I we ended up in Sacramento. Then I went to school at Berkeley, near San Francisco, where my parents met. My mom died during my last year of school there.
Then I applied to graduate schools in mechanical engineering and chose U of M from among several schools, only because they offered me the best scholarship first. I received another great offer from UCSB, but I had already accepted at U of M. That’s how I ended up in Michigan, a state I had never even visited. Blind chance?
It wasn’t until after meeting my wife Julie that I began to see how remarkable the journey was. You see, Julie is from Kalamazoo, where my mom’s family came from. I have a great aunt and uncle who continue to live there. Julie’s parents live there. It doesn’t end there. Get this. I learned several years ago that one of my mom’s older brothers, who had died as a child, is buried in a graveyard 1.3 miles from where Julie’s parents live. A blood relative buried less than a mile and a half away from my wife’s family home (now my family), over two thousand miles from where my mother and I were born.
Fifty years later; after tens of thousands of miles of travels; arriving here in Michigan, seemingly by total chance, completely alone and hurting. I find that I’m home in a real sense. I’m no longer an alien wandering in a foreign country.
We’re not always aware of the story in our lives, are we? We don’t always see the patterns, the history, the trajectory… just little hints along the way.
God sometimes acts so very subtly.
That’s why sometimes we need other people to help us step back and see the big picture. People who know the ways of God, who speak into our lives with faith and say, “Wow, that’s an amazing story you have. I can see the pattern. God is in this.”
Sometimes we’re so close to the details, so up close, so beleaguered and weary; that we need help to see. That’s the role of friends, small groups. Ever had someone get to know you and point what they see as the story of your life?
ACT 2, SCENE 2
Just then Boaz arrived from Bethlehem and greeted the harvesters, "The LORD be with you!"
"The LORD bless you!" they answered.
Boaz asked the overseer of his harvesters, "Who does that young woman belong to?"
The overseer replied, "She is the Moabite who came back from Moab with Naomi. She said, 'Please let me glean and gather among the sheaves behind the harvesters.' She came into the field and has remained here from morning till now, except for a short rest in the shelter."
So Boaz said to Ruth, "My daughter, listen to me. Don't go and glean in another field and don't go away from here. Stay here with the women who work for me. Watch the field where the harvesters are working, and follow along after the women. I have told the men not to lay a hand on you. And whenever you are thirsty, go and get a drink from the water jars the men have filled."
At this, she bowed down with her face to the ground. She asked him, "Why have I found such favor in your eyes that you notice me—a foreigner?"
Boaz replied, "I've been told all about what you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband—how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the LORD repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the LORD, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge."
"May I continue to find favor in your eyes, my lord," she said. "You have reassured me and have spoken kindly to your servant—though I do not have the standing of one of your servants."
At mealtime Boaz said to her, "Come over here. Have some bread and dip it in the wine vinegar."
When she sat down with the harvesters, he offered her some roasted grain. She ate all she wanted and had some left over. As she got up to glean, Boaz gave orders to his men, "Let her gather among the sheaves and don't reprimand her. Even pull out some stalks for her from the bundles and leave them for her to pick up, and don't rebuke her."
So Ruth gleaned in the field until evening.
Boaz. What a guy. Boaz goes above and beyond what is expected of him. The law of Israel simply says that he must leave the gleanings in the field for the poor. But Boaz (name means “strong”) sees this foreign woman and shows her amazing loving-kindness.
He doesn’t simply allow her to glean, but he allows her to gather among the sheaves with everyone else. In other words, not just what’s left behind, but the first pick. He even tells his men to leave for her some of what they’ve already gathered. Makes sure that everyone keeps an eye out for her, that nobody harms her.
He provides water for her. He invites her to lunch, gives her bread and grain. In fact, so much that she can’t even eat it all, but has much to take home to Naomi.
Ruth is stunned and puzzled by his kindness. This guy is doing so much more than what is required or expected.
Why was Boaz being so kind? Because he had heard of Ruth’s own loving-kindness; he knows the ways of God, and he sees Ruth’s story. Verse 11:
Boaz replied, "I've been told all about what you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband—how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before."
This entire book is one of people who have done more than what was required of them. Ruth and Orpah, the two daughters in law. Orpah makes the decision to return to her people, a perfectly reasonable decision. There is no condemnation for her. But Ruth chooses to do what is not required, what isn’t expected, even of a good person. She shows sacrificial loving-kindness in staying with her mother in law, and Boaz recognizes this.
This is the mark of Yahweh’s people. This is the mark of the Kingdom of God.
Jesus in Matthew 5, Sermon on the Mount:
Yes, you have the right to fight back and resist. You have a right to punish the one who has wronged you, to hit back. Lev 24:19-20
But the way of the Kingdom is radical loving-kindness. Don’t fight fire with fire. “Do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” Matt 5:38-42:
Yes, you have the right to hate your enemies. It’s human, it’s natural. Even good people hate their enemies. BUT this is the way of the kingdom. Radical loving-kindness. Love your enemies. Matt 5:43-45:
You see, the people of God, people of the Kingdom, are to be marked by something exceptional. By a kind of loving-kindness that goes above and beyond what is expected of even a good person. Matthew 5:46-48. It’s perfect love.
Back to our story. Boaz says to Ruth, I’ve heard all you’ve done:
“May the LORD repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the LORD, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge."
A beautiful image of God. Like a mother hen who covers her chicks with her wings to protect them.
It’s an image echoed throughout the Psalms (Psalm 17:8; 36:7; 57:1; 61:4; 91:4)
[If you have a little one, you know their vulnerability. Eve scared of a dog, clings to my leg. I scoop her up, enfold her in my arms.]
Boaz sees this woman for what she is, vulnerable. A poor, foreign widow. And his heart goes out for her. Why this sensitivity?
It’s an interesting fact not told to us in this story, but one that would have been familiar to the original readers… that Boaz’s mother is Rahab, who we know as the prostitute. Maybe you know the story of Jericho, and the foreign woman Rahab who helped the invading Israelites (Joshua 2:1)? Only she and her household were spared.
That same Rahab is Boaz’s mother (Matthew 1:5).
So maybe when Boaz sees this poor foreign woman, on the bottom rung of society, socio-economically at the very bottom… he thinks of his mother… who was likewise a foreigner among the Israelites, poor and of no account.
ACT 2, SCENE 3
Then she threshed the barley she had gathered, and it amounted to about an ephah. She carried it back to town, and her mother-in-law saw how much she had gathered. Ruth also brought out and gave her what she had left over after she had eaten enough.
Her mother-in-law asked her, "Where did you glean today? Where did you work? Blessed be the man who took notice of you!"
Then Ruth told her mother-in-law about the one at whose place she had been working. "The name of the man I worked with today is Boaz," she said.
"The LORD bless him!" Naomi said to her daughter-in-law. "He has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead." She added, "That man is our close relative; he is one of our family guardians."
Then Ruth the Moabite said, "He even said to me, 'Stay with my workers until they finish harvesting all my grain.' "
Naomi said to Ruth her daughter-in-law, "It will be good for you, my daughter, to go with the women who work for him, because in someone else's field you might be harmed."
So Ruth stayed close to the women of Boaz to glean until the barley and wheat harvests were finished. And she lived with her mother-in-law.
In the OT, the “family guardian” or “kinsman redeemer” was a relative who could redeem people and property. If someone sold themselves into slavery/servitude to pay off a debt, the redeemer was the family member who could purchase their freedom. If a widow was in need, the redeemer would care for them. If someone was murdered, the redeemer would avenge the crime. Regarding property, if someone was going to lose their land because of poverty, the redeemer was the family member who could save the land by paying off the debt.
When Naomi hears about Boaz, a light goes on; she instantly comes alive. Naomi, who was dead inside, lives again.
"The LORD bless him!" Naomi said to her daughter-in-law. "He has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead."
Who is Naomi talking about, God or Boaz? Both? Probably. We just don’t know.
Naomi has come to life; a rebirth of hope.
If you’ve ever been in a place of complete hopelessness, of utter discouragement… and then had a breath of hope breathed into your life, you know what this is like.
[example; feeling hopeless about marriage. Meeting with another couple who told us that this wasn’t unusual, that we had things to work on but that we could/would come through it. Who would be there to help us along that way, keep us accountable, walk us through it. All of a sudden there’s hope.]
Boaz, the kindsman-redeemer, the family guardian, who has shown hesed, radical loving-kindness, to Ruth… he has breathed life and hope into Naomi.
The hero of this chapter foreshadows the Hero of the Bible, Jesus. Spurgeon says Jesus is “our glorious Boaz” who came to look upon us with love and care, even though he had no obligation to do so. Jesus is our hesed, extended to us as a gift from God. The gift of true, eternal life. Much like the hesed given to sustain Ruth. Like Boaz, Jesus is our great redeemer, paying our debts, redeeming us and the earth.
But the narrator leaves us hanging… the closing verses of this chapter leave us with Ruth working alongside the harvesters, and alone with her mother. Still empty.
We’ll pick up in chapter 3 next week.
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