Sermon on Ruth 2:1-3:5

On Sunday, October 10, 2021, I gave a sermon at Shalom Community Church. This is an adaptation of the sermon.

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Scripture

Ruth 2:1-3:5 (The Inclusive Bible)

Ruth 2

[1] Now Naomi had a relative on her husband’s side from the clan of Elimelech. His name was Boaz, and he was well-to-do. [2] One day Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, “Let me go into the fields and be a gleaner, gathering the leftover grain behind anyone who will take pity on me.” And Naomi said, “Go ahead, my daughter.” [3] So Ruth went out to the fields to follow the harvesters and gather the grain that they dropped. As providence would have it, she came to the part of the field that was owned by Boaz, of Elimelech’s clan. [4] It so happened that Boaz had just returned from Bethlehem. He greeted the harvesters by calling out, “YHWH be with you!” They shouted back, “YHWH bless you!” [5] Then Boaz turned to the supervisor in charge of the harvesters and asked, “Who does that woman work for?” [6] The supervisor of the harvesters replied, “She is the Moabite who returned from the land of Moab with Naomi. [7] She asked our permission to collect the grain that the workers dropped. She has been working steadily since early morning, with scarcely any rest.” [8] Then Boaz said to Ruth, “Listen to my words, my child, and accept my offer: don’t collect your grain in anyone else’s fields but mine; and don’t leave here, stay with my binders. [9] Watch them closely, and whatever part of the field they are harvesting, follow behind them. I have ordered all my reapers not to bother you.† When you get thirsty, go to the water jars they bring with them and get a drink of water.” [10] Ruth bowed down to the ground and said to Boaz, “How have I come to deserve your favor so much that you take care of me? I’m just a foreigner.” [11] Boaz replied, “I have heard how you have cared for your mother-in-law since your husband died, and how you left your own family and the land where you were born to come to live here among strangers. [12] May YHWH pay you in full for your loyalty! May you be richly rewarded by the Most High God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to find shelter!” [13] Ruth said, “May you find me deserving of your kindness. You have treated me gently and given me solace even though I am not one of your workers.” [14] When noontime arrived, Boaz said to her, “Come here and share my bread and dip some of it in the wine.” Ruth sat with the rest of the workers while Boaz prepared a bowl of roasted barley as a snack. She ate until she was no longer hungry and still had some left over. [15] Then she got up to continue her gathering. Boaz ordered the binders, “Let her pick from among the bundles you have gathered, and do not hinder her. [16] In fact, go so far as to drop some grain from your bundles, and let her collect it without fear.” [17] Ruth continued to gather in the field until evening. Then she winnowed what she had collected and had enough grain to fill a whole basket.

[18] She picked up the basket and carried it into town. When she arrived home, Ruth showed the basket to Naomi, and gave her the leftovers from her meal. [19] When she saw all this, Naomi asked, “Where did you gather today? Where have you been working? God bless whoever took care of you!” Then Ruth told Naomi in whose fields she had been working: “The owner of the fields where I worked today is named Boaz.” [20] Then Naomi said, “May he receive blessings from YHWH, who has not stopped showing tender love to both the living and the dead!” “This Boaz,” Naomi continued, “is a close relative of ours—he is our redeemer-trustee.” [21] Ruth the Moabite said, “He also told me, ‘Follow my binders until they have finished with the harvest.’” [22] Naomi told her daughter-in-law, “This is very good news. It will be better to stay in his fields where you will be safe than to go to someone else’s fields where you could be in danger.” [23] So Ruth stayed with Boaz’s workers and worked as a gleaner until the harvest wascomplete. During this time, she continued to live with her mother-in-law.

Ruth 3

[1] One day, Naomi said to Ruth, “My daughter, it’s my duty to ensure your security and fulfillment, and make sure you are provided for. [2] And Boaz, whose workers you have been following, is our closest relative. Tonight he’ll be winnowing grain on the threshing floor. [3] Wash up and put on perfume and dress in your finest clothes. Then go down to the threshing floor. But don’t let him know you’re there until he has finished eating and drinking. [4] “When he goes to sleep, watch to see where he lies down. Then go and ‘uncover his feet’ and lie down with him. He’ll tell you what to do next.” [5] Ruth replied, “I will do as you tell me.”

Sermon

Some of you have met Ashley’s parents. They are salt of the earth kind of people. They’ve been to Shalom a handful of times when they’ve come to visit us in Michigan. They’ve also joined virtually once or twice. Church is important to them, and it’s important to us (probably, at least in part, because of them), and so we have invited them to visit the church community we’ve found up here. We almost invited them today, but part of the sermon today is about them, so that didn’t feel quite right… maybe we’ll have them listen to the recording.

It’s also about the fact that sometimes you find yourself harvesting–or even gleaning–something you haven’t cultivated, or weren’t necessarily expecting to be harvesting in the first place. Like Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz, you find yourself trying to live into and find what’s life-giving in an unexpected, new arrangement, in a reconfiguring of family relationships…

Ruth Redux

Last week, Pricilla read “Act 1” of Ruth. Like Jodie said, the book of Ruth is a “people losing their farms’’ story. It has an almost fable-like quality to it. Its protagonists are two women, Naomi and her Moabite daughter-in-law-Ruth, who share a surprising friendship and love for one another. Some years earlier, Naomi had left Bethlemhem to settle in Moab with her two sons. Both married Moabite women. But when Naomi’s husband and the two sons–two sons, I was interested to learn, with emblematic names: Mahlong apparently means something like “Sickling,” and Chilion something like “Bound-to-Go…” so in line with that “fable-like” quality, it really makes you wonder what’s going to happen to them!–anyway, when those sons suddenly die, she is left with no means of support and so resolves to return to Bethlehem. “Return to your mother’s house,” she advises each of her widowed daughters-in-law. But, Ruth refuses to abandon her mother-in-law: “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people will be my people, and your God, my God.”

When they arrive, Bethlehem is in the midst of a busy harvest, fitting for our theme, and this will ultimately cause Ruth to meet Boaz, a relative of Naomi’s and one of Bethlehem’s leading citizens. While Boaz is a wealthy householder, Ruth now finds herself at the other end of the social scale–she joins in with the gleaners who scurry around in back of the harvesters in the hope of picking up a stray stalk or two of grain. Boaz notices her and, having heard, like all of Bethlehem–and thank you Jodie for this part–of her HASED, or “faithful, steadfast love, of a redemptive and transformative kind” towards Naomi, is inspired to act beyond the obligations of the law and makes sure she gets ample grain from sections of the field he commands his men to set aside for this purpose.

Boaz, being a close relative of Naomi’s husband’s family (not technically the closest, the story goes through great pains to elucidate), was obliged to marry Ruth to “protect” her, but also to carry on his family’s inheritance. Naomi hatches a risky plan and sends Ruth to the threshing floor at night where Boaz slept to seduce him. Boaz, an old man, suddenly jumps up in panic at finding a young woman in his bed. But Boaz recovers his composure and, in his own, highly elevated (maybe even pompous?) idiom, takes her on as his wife. Later, having taken care of the legal requirements, Boaz and Ruth are married. The story ends with a genealogy: Ruth and Boaz have a child, Obed, whose child is Jesse, none other than the parent of David.

Why Was the Story Written?

I have a kind of lay interest in the Bible and biblical interpretation, so I read up a bit on why scholars think this story was written. For one, the story of Ruth has been cherished by Christians and Jews alike, and it has been important because Ruth has been interpreted as a love story or as Ruth being a model of an ideal convert. But, I take it, this is problematic. Teen Bibles and Hobby Lobby quote wall art notwithstanding (and I say this because I have family members that keep their home looking farmhouse fresh with a country-style Ruth 1:16 Wood Wall Decor Set… Trevor reminds me that this is not the worst thing Hobby Lobby has done), it turns out that Ruth’s expressions of love, “Where you go, I will go,” and her profession of faith, “Your God will be my God,” seems to modern scholars less, in fact, an expression of love (at least in the modern, romantic, i.e., non-HASED sense) or the words of a convert (actually, there is no evidence of the existence of such a concept in biblical times) than a simpler statement of Ruth’s desire to return with Naomi to Judah and, in the process, to take on a fully Judahite identity.

The book can also be read as a political parable relating to issues around mixed marriage. Intermarriage was a very sensitive subject in this period. But in this story an upstanding citizen, Boaz, not only marries a non-Judahite, but an outcast and oppressed Moabite–the sort of marriage partner explicitly forbidden in other parts of Bible. Not only did such a marriage take place, the story affirms, but Ruth turns out to be none other than the great-grandmother of David. Seen in this light, the purpose of the story might be something more like mixed marriages are perfectly acceptable (especially if you need to retroactively make it OK much later, in the time of David, as scholars think the author of Ruth was trying to do). “Families are different, and that’s okay!” (but that’s from Daniel Tiger, not Ruth).

Finally, scholars have increasingly explored Ruth in ways which allow it to address contemporary issues. Feminists, for example, have recast the story as one of the dignity of labour and female self-sufficiency, and as a model for exploring queerness or lesbian relations, while others have seen in it a celebration of the relationship between strong and resourceful women. Others have criticized it for its underlying, and even exploitative, acceptance of a system of patriarchy in which a woman’s worth can only be measured through marriage and child-bearing. Yet others have seen it as a book that champions outcast and oppressed peoples. When I talked to a friend of mine at work about it, who immigrated here from the USSR when she was 16, she identified with the migration bit, forced or otherwise, that Jodie mentioned last week. There are a lot of meanings!

A Personal Take

I think all of this is really interesting, and, actually, I might even like to explore another message along one of those paths in the future, and even hope that Shalom can be an outlet for that. But, because this is my first time, and because, of course, stories like this can also take on personal meanings for their readers, I’d now like to turn to exploring this story in conjunction with our theme of “harvest.” Because sometimes you find yourself harvesting–or even gleaning–something you haven’t cultivated or weren’t expecting to harvest. This is happening for our family right now; actually, it sounds like it may be happening for many families in our community and beyond right now. Like Naomi and Ruth and Boaz, we–and maybe you–find yourself trying to live into and find what’s life-giving in an unexpected, new arrangement, in a reconfiguring of family relationships…

At this point, I’d like to re-share an opening for worship Nelson gave earlier this summer, as it was sort of the inspiration for this. At the time, we were exploring a theme of “cultivation and nourishment.” At the time, I just remember thinking it was very thoughtful and beautiful, even wise. So, I’m going to repeat or at least paraphrase it now.

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This was back in June or July, when after Ruth and Nelson had spent much of May and June living with their son Steve and daughter-in-law Alyssa and their family. During their first visit, they anticipated the birth of their third child and first daughter. For the parents of two sons and grandparents of two grandsons, there was an added element of delight in the expectation of a girl. This anticipation was realized when Ruth and Nelson returned after her birth and held Amelia the first time and many times in the following days.

He shared some thoughts about cultivation and nourishment as he observed them in that three-generation family setting.

1. First off, a few words about boundaries (and these are his words)–boundaries on his words and actions. It was not his household and he was not a parent. His ways were not always their ways. Yet he sees much to affirm and support in the home Steve and Alyssa make. The love and care and nurture they give their children is shaping GOOD people. He was so grateful to see that, and it nourishes him to see those good values cultivated.
2. I don’t know Steve, but some of you do. He was born into this community and raised in it. Those of you who interacted with him in his childhood and youth nourished and cultivated the traits of love, patience, kindness, loyalty, diligence, and humor that give Nelson such delight as he sees Steve in his busy life of work, family, marriage, and recreation. Nelson is grateful for that.
3. Finally, Nelson experienced the challenge of cultivating in himself an attitude appropriate to his place, as he put it, in this generational line-up. He needs to re-learn attentiveness to children’s voices. He must move aside in some ways. Yet while he sets aside control and authority, he gains access to freedom. As he moves into retirement, he is learning to embrace the possibilities. And he is grateful for that, too.

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I think part of the reason I found Nelson’s reflections so evocative is that, at the time, Ashley and I were anticipating the move of her parents from their home of over 60 years in Fayetteville, North Carolina to be closer to Ashley (their only child) and me and our two children, their grandchildren, here in Michigan. That move happened over the summer, and they now live in Canton. So, it was meaningful for that reason when I heard it the first time, and of course it brought on even more meaning when Ruth and Nelson shared that they had decided, like Ashley’s parents, to relocate in retirement from their home of many years to be nearer to their children and grandchildren. (And now, of course, Cinda is also moving, along with Brad and Jackson, to Alaska to be, at least in part, closer to her parents and Jackson’s grandparents.) I suppose we have modern life and the pandemic to thank for some of this soul searching that has led to these kinds of dramatic moves to be closer to family; according to Pew, many Americans–likely in the millions–have done just that.

As a brief aside, in part because we will be blessing Cinda, Brad, and Jackson today, these folks have been so important to me. Many of you know that Cinda is the reason I/we came to Shalom in the first place. We work together–at least for five more days–and I guess we talked about God at work sometime (maybe you’ve done that before?). Cinda invited us to Chili and Carols, and what a way to get introduced to Shalom! (Actually, a secret: we stopped at an Applebee’s after work to have a beer first and then headed to Chili and Carols…). Nelson was the one conducting the carols, and at various times Leila and Clay have emulated his conducting both at Gretchen’s House and now in our living room. I guess my point is that Chili and Carols should be our recruitment tool, and that I can hardly imagine Shalom without Cinda or Nelson or their families. I will MISS them.

But, back to the main message, I would like to share some thoughts in response to Nelson’s opening now that we have transitioned from a theme of “cultivation and nourishment” to a theme of “harvesting” in mind. And with the story of Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz trying to live into and find what’s life-giving in an unexpected, new arrangement. I’ll take up the three points Nelson laid out and share some thoughts about harvest as I’ve observed them in response to our own new three-generation family setting.

1. So, about boundaries. This was definitely a concern I had when I learned of Ashley’s parent’s intentions. And, in some ways, it still is, because the move, at least to me, felt all of the sudden, even impulsive (in my own way, I think I “jumped out of the bed” like Boaz). I’m not aware that there was any extended discussion of this idea or their plans ahead of time the way that Nelson and Ruth seem to have done with their children. I think a year’s advance notice might have done us some good! But since we didn’t get that, we haven’t really had much time to think much about boundaries. In any case, Ashley and I aren’t always great at talking about boundaries or setting them in the first place. So, I am experiencing some excitement because they’re here, but also some anxiety about this, in particular. Bigger picture, I’ve also always felt that some of the “boundary-setting” discourse for parents in these situations is so focused on asserting or reclaiming the kind of control and authority Nelson spoke of setting aside. This hasn’t always sat well with me. We’re fortunate to be starting from a place of love (and I know that’s not true for everyone); I can see, like Nelson said, that Ashley’s parents see much to affirm and support in the home we’ve made, even though our ways are not always their ways. (For example, they do not seem to be interested in attending Shalom! I think it might have something to do with a sermon Hillary gave on the Ten Commandments back when she and Trevor first started as pastors… I didn’t know she was joining today, so, “hello”). I can also see that they are trying to be respectful of boundaries, and I think part of what we’re working through now is identifying them in part just by bumping into them (I hear that’s not actually the best way to go about it). These range in importance. Some days, it’s “How many special treats are too many special treats?” or “Are they even special anymore if our life circumstances change and so the times we see each other aren’t technical “special” anymore? Doesn’t that mean that special treats are regular treats? And that’s not good, right?” “And… why do I care so much about special treats!” Other days it’s Ashley and I trying to ask ourselves, “What is our BIG WHY? What values are we trying to teach Leila and Clay?” (I mean really, because this is a thing you can get away with not asking yourself.) And… is something we’re doing, or that Ashley’s parents are doing, aligned or not with those values?

2. About gratitude, a repeated refrain in Nelson’s opening. Above all, this transition has been good. More, like Trevor said, than we expected. An abundance. Actually, Ashley said to me after the service where Nelson and Ruth announced their plans, that “from the other side,” this has been GOOD. Leila and Clay definitely love having “memom” and “dedad” around. A lot. It has been wonderful to do simple things together like watch Leila’s soccer games–by the way, I think I met those parents Johan and Trevor were talking about the other day–and to share meals together. Actually, we did both of those things yesterday. And I appreciate and, in many ways, am in awe of Ashley’s parents going on an adventure like the one they’re on now at this stage in their lives. I can see, for example, that they recognize how fragile this whole thing is, and they’ve told us how it was much harder it was than they expected it would be to leave behind their home and their stuff and their friends and especially their church community. And they haven’t even experienced winter! Nelson’s perspective on this one is a bit longer, but I’m hopeful about what the future will bring.

3. And on cultivation, but in the midst of harvest. I think one thing I’m learning is that even as you move into “harvest” (i.e., for us, the move has happened) and start to see the fruits of that cultivation, you realize that cultivation and harvest are not two separate things and don’t follow a nice, neat, linear progression. Instead, Ashley and I and her parents are in the middle of some retroactive cultivation: cultivation of boundaries and expectations we’ve never discussed; cultivation of our own values, the ones Ashley and I have been able to avoid discussing; cultivation of “multiplayer” parenting and how to simply ask for or accept help when we’ve been doing this “on our own” (whatever that means) for so long; cultivation of family dynamics, both with her parents, who are aging and will continue to age, and with mine and with my step-parents and my sister and her family and my grandmother, who all still live in that same town in Fayetteville and are now more worried than ever–even resentful, I hear–that we might never return. Ashley and I have things that go wrong in our lives, and my family has things that go wrong in their lives, and it’s when those things go wrong that I feel very, very far away from family… and not just geographically. So harvest is joyful, yes, but it’s also work, and generates more and unexpected cultivation. It sometimes forces a conversation about all the things you should have been cultivating but haven’t. And this kind of harvest isn’t always fun, because these conversations are hard and they’re definitely not fun. Most times I prefer to avoid them.

Besides that, harvest is not always exciting, for better or worse. Elements of it are kind of boring. Ashley’s parents, for example, are in the middle of cultivating their new lives here by undertaking a host of decidedly mundane things, like where to get a haircut, where to go to the doctor, how to pick kids up from school (I take it that it’s much harder than it used to be… there are unique family identifiers and computers involved now), etc.

Conclusion

At this moment it feels too soon to know exactly what we’re harvesting here, beyond the obvious. Beyond soccer games, meals, and picking the kids up from school and daycare. Beyond haircuts and doctor’s appointments. Beyond a candid family discussion or two. Just like there is this process of retroactive cultivation going on–or at least recognition of things we haven’t really cultivated and are now supposed to be harvesting, things like boundaries and family dynamics–I think there’s a good chance we won’t know exactly what we’ve harvested until years from now. As somebody who works with archives and memory it’s obvious to me that most of the time you don’t REALLY know what is meaningful about an event until much, much later, and that even then meaning can change over time. So we enter into these unexpected, new arrangements, with, yes, excitement, but also anxiety. Trying, like Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz, to live into and find what’s life-giving about them. But with the hope that, like Ashley said, that on the other side, they will ultimately be GOOD things.

Categories: talks