Ruth

Week of Monday, May 13, 2002

The time of the judges was a dark period in Israel's history. It was a time of social, cultural and political anarchy, when “every person did what was right in his own eyes.” In its religious life “the word of the Lord was rare” (1 Samuel 3:1), whereas idolatry was common. On the moral level, it was a time of debauchery. As if to punctuate this point the author of the book records the murder of a nameless woman who was gang raped all night and then dismembered, a crime so heinous that it subsequently provoked a civil war within Israel. On the economic front there was also a famine. All in all, the time and place of the judges was an unlikely and improbable setting for such a beautiful story as the story of Ruth, a “woman of excellence” (Ruth 3:11). From a human perspective, outward circumstances would not have encouraged one to believe that Yahweh was at work in Israel during the time of the judges. But He was.

Through no fault of her own, Ruth's personal circumstances were similarly improbable, and no less bitter, only for different reasons. An Israelite family of four had come to her own land of Moab to escape the famine in Israel and, who knows, perhaps also to escape the chaos of their own people and land. That Moab was Israel's enemy who had denied them safe passage, that the Moabite King Balak employed Balaam to have God curse Israel, and that a subsequent King Eglon oppressed Israel for almost twenty years, indicate just how desperate Elimelech, Naomi and their two sons must have felt (Judges 11:17, 3:12–20; Numbers 22–24). An Israelite fleeing with his family to Moab?!

Once in Moab, Elimelech died, leaving Naomi a widow with two sons in that foreign land. After marrying local foreigners the two sons also died, leaving three disenfranchised, childless widows—the Hebrew Naomi living in exile in Moab, and her two Moabite daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah. After some ten years Naomi returned to her own country, but in Bethlehem the people were so shocked that they hardly recognized her. No wonder Naomi complained, “Do not call me Naomi (her name means “pleasant” or “my delight”); call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me” (Ruth 1:19–21).

In Bethlehem, of course, Ruth was now the foreigner. She was childless. She was widowed. She lived in an improbable time and place, Israel during the period of the judges. Circumstances beyond her control had dealt her life a bitter hand of cards. But she made her own choices, too. Despite the vehement protests of Naomi that she return to her own people and land, Ruth insisted that she would cling to Naomi, her people and her God, and so she continued as an alien in Bethlehem. She insisted upon securing an economic livelihood for her mother-in-law by gleaning fields among the hired hands. She even rather actively and obediently followed Naomi's plan to ingratiate herself to Boaz, the owner of the fields she gleaned. Her reputation, in fact, was such that the entire city knew her to be a “woman of excellence” (Ruth 2:11).

At this point in Ruth's story we can also see how apparently random events and people coalesced—call them what you will, the incidental, the accidental, and the coincidental factors of life. As it happened, Boaz was both a wealthy man and a near relative to the deceased Elimelech. As such, he not only had the means but also the obligation to “redeem” Ruth (and, in turn, Naomi). But another relative was even closer to Naomi than Boaz, but as luck would have it, he refused to redeem Ruth and so cleared the way for Boaz. They married and conceived a son, Obed, the grandfather of David, of the line of Christ Himself (Matthew 1:5).

Scholars debate the purpose of the book of Ruth. Maybe it intends to supply part of the ancestry of David, Israel's greatest king. Others suggest that it offers a more balanced and charitable view about mixed marriages than that found in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. I like to read it as a testament of God's providence: a childless, foreign widow who lived in a very corrupt time and place becomes part of the ancestry of Christ.

When I read the story of Ruth recently I was reminded how easy it is to wish for a different set of life circumstances, to imagine that somehow if I was able to change my geography, my job, my family of origin, my station in life, my finances, maybe a little of this and more of that, well, then somehow I would be more fit for the journey with Jesus. Maybe if the “coincidences” of my life felt more apparent, more important and significant rather than meaningless and random, maybe that would indicate that Yahweh was present and at work in my life.

No, the story of Ruth reveals how misguided such thinking is. Ruth reminds us that no matter who we are or where we are, no matter what our social or cultural place, no matter our personal circumstances, Yahweh can and does work his works of grace and salvation. We need not waste time hoping or wishing or expecting to be in a different time or place. This does not mean we always understand or even like every detail of our life; but it does mean that we trust Him in His providential grace. We believe that in His gracious providence He takes all of the elements of my life—my time, place, culture, my coincidences and unique circumstances, my choices, and everything else—and weaves them together to form a beautiful tapestry, the design of which includes hues of both light and dark but whose overall beauty is unmistakable.

Believing in God's providence over our lives can serve as a wonderful antidote to many of our modern self-obsessions. In his Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin (1509–1564) writes that

(W)hen that light of divine providence has once shone upon a godly man, he is then relieved and set free not only from the extreme anxiety and fear that were pressing him before, but from every care. For as he justly dreads fortune, so he fearlessly dares commit himself to God. His solace, I say, is to know that His heavenly Father so upholds all things in His power, so rules by His authority and will, so governs by His wisdom, that nothing can befall except He determine it....Whence, I pray you, do you have this never-failing assurance but from knowing that, when the world appears to be aimlessly tumbled about, the Lord is everywhere at work, and from trusting that His work will be for your welfare? In short, not to tarry any longer over this, if you pay attention, you will easily perceive that ignorance of providence is the ultimate of all miseries; the highest blessedness lies in the knowledge of it.¹

The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself Copyright ©2002 by Dan Clendenin. All Rights Reserved.