Scripture Ruth 4:9-17
Then Boaz said to the elders and all the people, “Today you are witnesses that I am acquiring all that belonged to Elimelech and all that belonged to Chilion and Mahlon from the hand of Naomi. Also, Ruth the Moabite, the wife of Mahlon am I acquiring for myself as a wife to maintain the dead man’s name on his inheritance, to reestablish the name of the deceased on his heritable property, that it may not be cut off from his kin and from the gate of his native place; today you are witnesses.” All the women and men who were at the gate, along with the elders, said,
“We are witnesses. May the Faithful God grant that the woman who is coming into your house be like Rachel and Leah; the two of them built up the house of Israel. May you prosper in Ephrathah and establish a lineage in Bethlehem; and may your house, through the children that the Faithful God will give you by this young woman, be like the house of Perez, whom Tamar gave birth to for Judah.”
So Boaz took Ruth as his own for a wife. He came to her and the Faithful God granted her a pregnancy, and she gave birth to a son. Then the women said to Naomi, “Blessed be the Faithful God, who has not deprived you this day of next-of-kin; and may the child’s name be renowned in Israel! He shall be to you a restorer of life and a provider in your latter years; for your daughter-in-law has given birth to him, she who loves you, she who is more to you than seven sons.” Then Naomi took the child and laid him in her bosom, and she fostered him. The neighbor-women gave him a name, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi.” They named him Obed; he became the father of Jesse, the father of David.” Now these are the descendants of Perez: Perez became the father of Hezron, Hezron of Ram, Ram of Amminadab, Amminadab of Nahshon, Nahshon of Salmon, Salmon of Boaz, Boaz of Obed, Obed of Jesse, and Jesse of David.
Sermon
We return this week to the Book of Ruth, and now we come to the end. But this is so much more than a Cinderella story with a good mother figure rather than a cruel one.
Last week we spoke of loss: the enormous grief of Ruth and Naomi, as they saw an anticipated future disappear. This theme cuts close to home for our congregation right now. And we all know that grief is never a simple matter of time. Grief simply works its way into our nervous system, and normalizes, becoming a familiar ache, and eventually, as the joyful memories rise and the pain of loss softens, a of joyous connection, one we never want to lose. But first, the pain.
We also talked of the journey Ruth and Naomi took: first, the literal trek to Naomi’s home and Ruth’s new home, Bethlehem. The word Bethlehem, is from two different Hebrew words: beit, or house, and lechem, bread. Bethlehem means, House of Bread, which means, the world is turned upside down: there is a famine in the House of Bread. But by the end of the first chapter, the conditions in Bethlehem have recovered, just as Ruth and Naomi (and let’s not forget Orpah), have all found themselves widowed and childless. Ruth and Naomi return to Bethlehem at harvest time, and famine gives way to plenty: there is grain, harvested, and gleaned, and distributed to those in need.
And the second journey, one of finding, in Naomi’s mind, stability for both women. In other words, Ruth needs a husband. This is because the role of women in the ancient Near and Middle East was to be married and to bare children. In the absence of those conditions, it was to be cared for and, essentially, owned, by a man, whether father or husband or brother. A woman without any of these was desperately vulnerable, which is exactly how Ruth and Noami arrive in Bethlehem. By the end of chapter 2, though, a prospect has been identified: Boaz. Not only a good man, and kind, but a man who might fulfill the need for Levirate marriage: To be the next-of-kin to marry a childless widow, so that her husband’s name would be carried on into future generations.
At the beginning of chapter 3, Naomi has a plan. It’s a simple one. Ruth must seduce Boaz. This is because Boaz is, and can be, that next-of-kin man to fulfill the obligation to marry a childless widow. In his interactions with Ruth, he has already shown what appears to be a fatherly interest in Ruth—he calls her daughter several times, and he endeavors to protect her as she gleans the grain for herself and Naomi. And now, there is a serendipitous opportunity for Ruth: Boaz will be at the threshing floor, where harvest will come to an end, and there will be a party! Harvest will be celebrated! Which means that Boaz will be well-fed and tipsy from drinking harvest wine.
Naomi instructs Ruth to take this to the next step, beginning with bathing, anointing herself with oils, and dressing in her best clothes. Then, she is to lie down next to Boaz, and uncover him, and… snuggle up close. Ruth follows all the instructions.
At midnight Boaz awakens and says, Who are you? It’s dark, and, again, he’s had some drink. Ruth’s answer couldn’t be more unabashedly frank. Let’s break it down:
She says, “I am Ruth…” This is good news to Boaz. He already admires Ruth.
Ruth goes on, “…your slave-woman…” This is an offer: I am ready to serve you, in any capacity.
And then she says, “…spread your cloak over your slave-woman…” This is an invitation to Boaz to continue in a protective role towards Ruth, and it echoes language about God we find in the psalms: God will hide us under the shadow of God’s wings.
“…for you are a kin-redeemer.” This is a clear proposal of marriage. Boaz, is, indeed, in a position to redeem Ruth and Naomi, by taking Ruth in marriage, which would also mean that Boaz would inherit any property that Naomi’s husband had owned.
Boaz’s response is everything one would hope. First, he blesses Ruth. “May you be blessed by the Most High, my daughter; your most recent act of fidelity is greater than the first…”
He is delighted. He is moved that Ruth has not gone after young or rich men—an indication that Boaz, though he owns a field, is both older than Ruth, and a man of modest means. He sees this proposal as a sign of Ruth’s faithfulness to Naomi and her family.
“And now, my daughter,” Boaz says, “fear not; all that you have spoken, I will do for you…as the Ageless God lives, I will redeem you as kin myself.”
Boaz, whose recognition of Ruth began when he saw a good, and loyal, and hardworking woman gleaning grain for her mother-in-law, now expands. He sees her boldness. He sees her complete willingness to do whatever it takes to give Naomi the stability and peace that every person deserves. He recognizes her as a kindred spirit. She pleases him.
However—there is an obstacle. In a portion of chapter four that we did not read, there is a bump in the proceedings. Boaz is not, in fact, the next-of-kin to Elimelech. He is the next-of-next-of-kin—there is one degree of separation between him and marrying Ruth, and he must go and talk to the fellow who is first in line. Boaz does this. The man gives up his right to redeem, and the ceremony involves ten elders and Boaz giving (or, perhaps, throwing) a sandal at the man to seal the deal. This is probably because the man, in refusing to do his duty, must be shamed publicly.
The finale is beautiful. We begin with Boaz’s joyful announcement at the gates of the city that, yes, he is the kin-redeemer, who will not only acquire Ruth the Moabite but also the property her father-in-law left behind. The crowds affirms this moment. The people respond.
Now, not only the elders who had been summoned to witness the negotiation with the original next-of-kin, but also, a group of women. Could these be Naomi’s community of women who sought to welcome her home in chapter 1? Their words have the sound of a formal blessing—maybe, a blessing that is always said when a marriage has been arranged.
In the blessing, women of scripture are named—Leah and Rachel, who, along with Zilpah and Bilhah, were the mothers of the twelve tribes of Israel. They are named in the hope that Ruth will be similarly fruitful. And Tamar is named, as the father of Perez… who, as it happens, is Obed’s great-great-great-great-grandfather.
And here is where the true meaning and purpose of Ruth’s story is revealed. This story that takes place during the chaotic time of the Judges, but it wasn’t written at that time. It was written following the Babylonian exile, when God’s people were finally permitted to go home to Jerusalem and Judah. At that time, the high priest Ezra indicted God’s people for marrying people of other nations—which is to say, faiths. During the exile, many men (including those from priestly families) married women who did not worship the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He persuaded the people that they must break up these families and send the women and children of these marriages back to their homes and families and gods.
As you can imagine, this was devastating. And so, a scribe—we have no idea who—decided to record the story of Ruth, the Moabite, who married not one, but two men who worshiped the God of the Hebrews. And, as the genealogy at the end reveals, Ruth ultimately had the honor of being the grandmother of the man considered the greatest king in the Old Testament, King David. David had Moabite blood.
Scripture is not kind to the Moabites. They are reviled right back to their first ancestor, Moab. It’s not pretty. And yet—A Moabite is singled out in this Cinderella story as a good and worthy human being: an immigrant, a refugee, and the savior of her mother-in-law, Naomi. Naomi, who, in the end, is seen as so entirely restored to peace and joy and abundance of life, that her friends sing out: Naomi has born a son! And Naomi takes the child and nurses him.
Each of us is on a journey. Each of us has faced (or will face) pain and grief, death and loss. And we may wonder where God was during all that pain. Was it all a part of God’s plan? I don’t believe we can see God’s plan in the present or future. We can only recognize it by looking back, as the scribe who wrote down Ruth’s story recognized that she was, inevitably, meant to be an ancestor of David. Or as we, looking at our own stories as they have unfolded, may be able to say, “I see now that God was there when this was happening, even in the midst of all that pain.” But it is only in looking back that we can do that.
Today, we finish the story of a woman from a hated race and country, who turns out, in the end, to be the hero of the story, in more ways than one, and part of a noble lineage. As a reminder, Jesus—a Palestinian Jew—springs from the lineage of King David as well.
We are all searching, one way or another for restoration. We are all looking to find our way home, whether that is in the right relationship, the right work, the right place to be, or the right way to respond to God’s call in our lives. As we look for that restoration, we would do well to remember what Ruth and Naomi learned: that God was, indeed, with them the entire time. That Ruth’s promise to Naomi—wherever you go, I will go—is the same promise God makes to us in the book of Revelation: See, the home of God is among mortals. God will dwell with them; they will be God’s people; and God will be with them and be their God.
It is the same promise the Angel makes about Jesus in the gospel of Matthew: His name will be Emmanual, which means, God-With-Us.
And it’s the promise Jesus makes at the end of that same gospel: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
We are looking for our home, but our home is with us, all along. Our home is with God. Our home is in God. Wherever we go, God is with us. Thanks be to God. Amen.