Introducing Ruth

Today we begin a new series in the book of Ruth. Maybe you're surprised by that, because you didn't know what book we were studying next. Neither did I, until Tuesday. The plan had been to head to 1 Samuel next, but for a few reasons it made the most sense for us to spend 4 or 5 weeks in Ruth first, and then start 1 Samuel in the new year.

One of those reasons is that the story of Ruth takes place in and around Bethlehem, and as we spend the next few weeks in Ruth, we'll be set up well to consider the good news of the saviour who was born in that same city to bring good news of great joy for all the peoples, including Moabites and Canadians.

From Bad to Worse (vv. 1-5)

So let's begin. And I'll warn you: Ruth is a very joyful story but it begins in a very bleak place. The introduction in verses 1-5 almost reads like a bad joke because of how bad of a situation it describes for us.

It starts right there in verse 1: "In the days when the judges ruled."

What do we know about the days when the judges ruled? We know, from our time in Judges a couple of years ago, that they were a mess. We talked about the "spin cycle" of Israel's rebellion and repentance, over and over again, seemingly getting worse and worse each time.

So if this takes place in the days of the Judges, our expectations aren't high. Then we read that there was a famine in the land.

That confirms our suspicions. For Israel, living in the Old Covenant, famines were a covenant curse that God warned His people would come upon them when they were being unfaithful to him.

So we can pretty safely assume that Israel was at one of the low points in their spin cycle: off worshipping other gods as if they didn't learn anything from the last time this happened. And in response, because He is faithful to His covenant promises, God has brought on them a famine like He promised.

Next we read that a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab. Now this is really rich. "Bethlehem" is the name of a town and it means "House of Bread." Like "Bethel" means "House of God," "Bethlehem" means "House of Bread." This was a place where you expected food.

But the famine is so bad that this man and his family, from the House of Bread, need to need to leave the good land that God gave them and go into exile across the Jordan River into Moab.

Moab was also the land where Israel last camped before coming into the promised land. And so being sent back out of the land to Moab is almost like when you die in a video game and you lose all your progress and have to go back and start all over again.

The irony is even deeper when we remember that Moab was criticized in Deuteronomy 23 "because they did not meet you with bread and with water on the way." They were stingy hosts, and even hired Balaam to come and curse Israel.

But now this man from the House of Bread is being sent back to his stingy neighbours because that's his best bet of having anything to eat.

And that's just verse 1!

In verse 2 we find out the names of these people. The man's name is Elimelech, which means something like "My God is King." That's a good name, affirming the sovereignty of God over all things, which we'll see is a theme in this story. "Naomi" is is wife, and her name means "pleasant."

So far, so good. Their sons' names, though, give us a heads up that some not great things might be coming. "Mahlon" means something like "sick person," and "Chilion" means "frail." We don't know what circumstances gave them these names, but soon enough we'll see how these young man sadly lived up to these meanings.

It starts, though, with their dad who dies in Moab as we read in verse 3. The fact that he died before his sons were married suggests that this was an early death, and it suggest the covenant curse of "perishing early" from Deuteronomy 28:20.

Naomi was left with her two sons, who, we're told in verse 4, take Moabite wives. Nowhere was Israel specifically told not to intermarry with the Moabites, but it probably wasn't something that would have been celebrated given what we just read from Deuteronomy 23.

The picture here suggests that this family has fully abandoned Israel, is not planning to go back, and is making Moab their permanent home.

And then, as if things couldn't get any worse, both of Naomi's sons die. If you talk to a parent about one of their worst fears, its often the death of their children. "At least," well-meaning people probably said after Elimelech died, "you still have your sons."

And there was some truth to that. To be a widow in that time in history was to be in an extremely vulnerable spot. Women couldn't just go get a job. They depended on their sons to provide for them and give them a home and an identity.

But Naomi has none of that. She has no husband and now no sons. And not even any grandchildren, because her sons both died childless, further evidence of God's displeasure with them, given that He'd promised to make Israel fruitful when they were faithful.

She has nothing but shame. Her next option is probably something along the lines of becoming a beggar, sitting by the side of the road with a cup counting on the generosity of strangers to keep her alive.

So just trace the downward spiral of Naomi. This is not just a bereaved widow. When Ruth 1:5 tells us that “the woman was left without her two sons and her husband,” this is describing a woman who has been completely levelled. She has nothing.

Naomi's Kindness (vv. 6-14)

So that's the situation that the introduction sets us up with. And starting in verse 6, the story takes a turn when Naomi hears "in the fields of Moab that the Lord had visited his people and given them food." Literally, given them bread.

It's important to keep track of what's going on here. God had told His people that when they were unfaithful to Him, events like famines would happen to them. But that wasn't the end of the story. He also told them that if they would repent and turn back to Him, then those curses would once again be replaced with blessings as he would heal their land (Deut 30:1-10, 2 Chronicles 7:13-14).

So that's what's happened here. There's been some sort of a national repentance, and the people have turned back to the Lord. And now they have bread again.

Naomi hears this, and knows that she has no more reason to remain in exile in Moab. She wants to return to her land and her people, where she has the best hope of making a life for herself.

But she doesn't go alone. Notice what verse 6 and 7 tell us: “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” (Ruth 1:6–7).

Orpah and Ruth and Naomi are operating as a family unit here. It seems, without question, they are going together. But just think of what that means for each one of them. For Naomi, this means going back to what's familiar and safe. For them, this means going into what is unfamiliar and strange. For Naomi, this means going back to where she'll be remembered and known. For them, this means going to where they'll be strangers and unknown.

And still, they go with her. They are both so incredibly kind to her to not leave her alone. They are showing her, as she will recognize in verse 8, steadfast love. A love that is not based on feelings but on loyalty. A love that, as one author put it, doesn't have its escape route planned.

And at first Naomi receives this love, and lets her daughters-in-law accompany her. But at some point it sinks in. At some point she realizes that these two women have no future where they are going. There is nothing for them back in her land.

Naomi could have kept her mouth shut at this point, but she shows love to them by stopping them and trying to send them home. Look at verse 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"*

These are the first words spoken so far in this book. And she's telling them to go back to where they came from. That's not her being rude—she's sending them to the best place for them right now. With their own people, their own families.

She acknowledges that they've shown steadfast love to her, and she asks that the Lord may show it to them. She continues to bless them when she says, "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” (Ruth 1:9).

"Rest" is a pretty important word in the book of Ruth and in fact the story of the Bible. To rest somewhere is to find a place to land—to settle somewhere in peace and security.

Naomi knows what it's like to not find rest. She hasn't been at rest ever since the famine drove her out of her land. Even now, who knows what she returns to? She doesn't want her daughters-in-law to have the same experience as her of being exiles in a foreign land.

So she offers this blessings that God will give them rest in the house of her husband. The assumption here is that, as women living in this part of the world at that point in history, they're going to need to get remarried. That's the best future for them and the best way for them to settle and find rest.

She's also making the assumption that the God of Israel can bless these two women right there in the land of Moab. Unlike what everybody else believed about their gods, she knows that her God's power extends beyond the borders of Israel and He can bless these two women there in Moab.

But don't miss how Naomi is putting them ahead of herself here. She is sacrificing her own desires—having two loyal young women to be with and care for her—for their benefit. Naomi often gets a bad rap as this story is retold, but she shouldn't. Her love for these women here, putting their needs ahead of her own, is beautiful.

And so is their refusal to leave her so easily. After weeping in lament together, verse 10, “And they said to her, ‘No, we will return with you to your people.’” They're not looking for a quick out here. They're willing to go all the way.

But Naomi is insistent. Verse 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?’”

Naomi is pointing here to the practice given to Israel in the law (Deut 25:5-10) called "levirate marriage." And it's a pretty important theme in this story. The idea is that if a man gets married but dies before he can become a father, his brother is to marry his widow and have children with her, and the first son will carry the name of the dead brother.

So if Frank dies and leaves his wife a widow, she is to marry Frank's brother Larry. And their first son, Bob, will be known as Bob the son of Frank. He will receive Frank's inheritance and carry on his family name. It will be their second son—if they have one—who will be counted as Larry's firstborn and who will carry on his name.

It's a practice that sounds strange to us, but it reflects just how important it was for the people of Israel to have children and have their name be passed on. And Naomi bringing this up here shows just how much she's still thinking about Ruth and Orpah. She's not thinking mainly about her own comfort. She's thinking about them and their need to be remarried and what she can do for them to help them be remarried.

And she's telling them: I can't do anything for you. Both of my sons have died—I have no more sons, not even any in my womb, that I can give you to provide husbands for you. And the odds of that situation changing are pretty low, as she explains in verse 12: “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?" (Ruth 1:12–13).

Yes, you're supposed to marry your husband's brother, but that's not going to happen here, ever. There's no future for you with me, she's saying. And even if the most unrealistic situation unfolded, would you really hang around for 18 years, turning down the option of marriage in the meantime, to wait for my boys? "No, my daughters, for it is exceedingly bitter to me for your sake that the hand of the Lord has gone out against me” (Ruth 1:12–13)

It's not a happy situation, but it's the one she's in, so they might as well go where they have a future.

And as the situation sinks in, the lament continues. “Then they lifted up their voices and wept again. And Orpah kissed her mother-in-law” (Ruth 1:14). This is a good-bye kiss, just like what we saw in verse 9. Orpah finally relents and says goodbye.

Don't think poorly of Orpah here. She has done nothing wrong. Her love for Naomi was real, and she was willing to go back with her when a lot of women in her situation would have taken off as soon as their husband died. She tried to talk Naomi out of it. She only leaves after being told, multiple times, to go home.

Orpah has done nothing wrong here, and nobody watching her actions could say that she didn't try and in fact hadn't already gone above and beyond. Orpah is a good woman who has loved Naomi well and there is no doubt that they are both grieved by their parting.

Ruth's Steadfast Love (vv. 14-18)

And that's what makes Ruth's refusal to leave that much more startling. While Orpah kisses Naomi goodbye, Ruth clings to her. Ruth holds fast to her, which is another way we could translate this word.

What comes to your mind when you think about Ruth clinging or holding fast to Naomi? Probably a hug that doesn't let go. Which makes sense given how Ruth's clinging is contrasted with Orpah's good-bye kiss.

But there's more than just the physical action of a hug going on here. This is not the first time in the Bible we've seen this word for "cling." And much of the time it is used to speak, not of a physical hug, but of being loyal or committed to someone in steadfast, covenant love.

• “but you shall cling to the Lord your God just as you have done to this day” (Joshua 23:8).
• “You shall fear the Lord your God. You shall serve him and hold fast to him, and by his name you shall swear” (Deuteronomy 10:20).
• “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh” (Genesis 2:24).

And there in Genesis 2:24 we see something very similar to here in Ruth 1, where the word "hold fast" is used both to refer to a physical act and a covenant commitment. Just like the physical union of a husband and wife is a picture of their covenant commitment, so Ruth's clinging to Naomi is a picture of her loyal love not letting go.

And we know that, because of what Ruth says. Naomi tries to dissuade Ruth one last time in verse 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.’” Go back home, she's saying!

And its at this point that Ruth delivers a speech that is nothing short of stunning.

“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’” (Ruth 1:16–17).

It's almost a crime to try and explain these words. You just hear them and they take your breath away.

Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay. I'm going with you, wherever. And this is not just temporary. "Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried." And she ends with an incredible vow which she no doubt would have heard before from Elimilech and his family: "May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you." This is a potent vow that leaves the worst part unspoken that basically says, may God to terrible things to me if I don't keep my words here.

Ruth's words to Naomi are without precedent and without equal. This is probably the clearest and most all-encompassing statement of covenant loyalty from one human to another in the entire Bible. And it's not between a husband and wife, lovey-eyed on their wedding day. It's between a Moabite widow and her Judean mother in law who is doing her best to send her home.

This is the definition of steadfast love.

And what makes it so stunning is that there's nothing in it for Ruth. Husbands and wives pledge for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do them part, but most of them are hoping for and counting on a lot of years of happiness.

When I do premarital counselling, I ask everybody, "Would you still go ahead with this if you knew that it was going to be worse, sicker, and poorer the rest of your marriage?" And I have to ask that question because people generally aren't thinking that way.

But Ruth is most definitely thinking that way. She has no hope of getting anything out of this for herself. She is committing to leave everything behind for an unknown and an uncertain future with a woman who can't offer her anything.

And if you were one of Ruth's friends, you would have told her she was crazy. And maybe she was. Maybe there is something crazy about love and commitment.

I so often look back at my wedding pictures and think, "Who were those kids? And how in the world did I convince that woman to pledge the rest of her life to me?" It barely makes sense to me to the present day.

I wish we knew more about what went on in Ruth's mind. Was Ruth driven here by compassion? Did she recognize that Naomi had lost more than she did, and out of compassion she didn't want to cause her any more grief?

Was it pure family loyalty? Did Ruth have a grandpa or a grandpa who told her as she was growing up, "Love is forever, Ruth. You don't take off when it gets hard."

We don't know. All we know is that Ruth has set her steadfast love on Naomi, and she knows it will be a huge cost, and nothing is going to change that.

Ruth's Profession of Faith (v. 16)

That's not all, though. There's something that we skipped over in the middle of Ruth's promise to Naomi. It's there at the end of verse 16: "Your people shall be my people, and your God my God."

This. Is. Huge.

But not every reader of Ruth catches how huge this is. It's possible to read this as just some more items on the list of Ruth's vow to Naomi. If she's going wherever Naomi is, that means new people and a new God. And so Ruth could just be saying, "So complete is my commitment to you that I am choosing to become completely assimilated into your people."

And she just assumes, given the way that people thought back then, that living in a new land meant worshipping a new God, and she's fine with that for Naomi's sake.

Maybe.

On the other hand, maybe Ruth had learned about Yahweh in the years she was married to Naomi's son. Maybe she desired to be a part of the people who worshipped a God who was gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. Maybe she was revolted by Chemosh, the god of her people, who was worshipped through human sacrifice.

Maybe.

But whatever is going on here, whether she knows it or not, Ruth has just uttered some incredibly potent words. Your people, my people, your God, my God.

Does that sound familiar at all?

“I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God” are the words God spoke to Moses when he promised to deliver Israel in Exodus 6:7. They recall the promise made earlier to Abraham (Gen 17:7-8) and the words spoken again and again by the prophets after them (Jeremiah 24:7, Hos 2:23, Zech 8:8).

And close to the very end of the Bible we get a vision of the future when we read about, “a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God’” (Revelation 21:3).

In many ways, this is what the whole story of redemption is about: God taking for himself a people and becoming their God forever. This is the central promise of the covenant. This is the whole story.

And whether she knows it or not, Ruth is writing herself in to this story. She's saying "your people—God's people? Now they're my people. Your God—the God of your people—is now my God."

And this makes us ask a big question. Can someone just do that? Can a Moabite Chemosh-worshipper just decide to relocate to Israel and become a worshipper of the one true God?

We know that God's promise to Abraham was to make his offspring a blessing to all of the nations. But how does that fit together with his covenant with Israel, which was designed to make them distinct and separate from all of the other nations?

What about God's command through Moses that no Moabite could ever enter his assembly? (Deut 23:3-4)

Will this even work? And the answer to that question is, in one measure, what the book of Ruth is about. So stick around.

Conclusion: Costly Love

For today though, we want to draw this to a conclusion by reflecting on what we see here. We can zoom out and see the big picture of covenants and redemption, but if we zoom in, what do we see? We see a suffering family. We see three bereaved women loving each other.

And in particular we see one woman laying down her life for another. Paul Millar sums up what happens in this chapter like this:

Naomi has said, in effect, to Ruth and Orpah, "You have to save your life. In order to save your life, you have to lose me. My life is over." Ruth responds with, "No, my life is over." (A Loving Life, p. 39)

Ruth lays her life down for Naomi's sake, just like Jesus did for us. “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers” (1 John 3:16).

And if you want to see one example of what it looks like for a person to lay down their lives for another person, here it is.

What do we learn about love from this? We learn that love is costly. Love is messy and unpredictable. Love blossoms in the middle of great suffering. Love doesn't look for the exit signs. Love is directed and focused on others instead of itself.

This is the love we see in marriage. Faithfulness undo death. This is the kind of love we see—or should see—in the church, where we covenant together to love one another even when it gets uncomfortable and messy.

And it would be so easy to leave it at that, maybe saying something like, "Clearly, none of us will ever be in Ruth's shoes. Clearly, pledging our love to someone else like this is not a realistic thing we'll ever be expected to do."

Because our ideas of love tend to be so individualized and so self-focused that the thought of inconveniencing ourselves for the sake of love doesn't even seem like a possibility.

But friends, surely Ruth's love is not too high of a standard for us to hold ourselves to if we've been told to love one another like Jesus did.

Could it be that one of the reasons we struggle to love one another in the church, even this church, is that we're unwilling to lose any part of ourselves for each other?

How often do we think, "I tried loving, and that person hurt me, so I'm finished doing that kind of thing. I tried being vulnerable, and I wasn't understood, so that's the last time I'm doing that kind of thing."

How often do we say no to things, say no to opportunities to love, because we're thinking of ourselves first. We couldn't even imagine giving up our whole life for someone else, like Ruth did, because we can barely imagine giving up a whole day for someone else.

Self-protection is the air we breathe without even realizing it.

And Ruth invites us up out of the smog of self-protection into the clean but costly air of sacrificial love.

It reminds us that love and suffering are inseparable. That love is supposed to hurt, and if it doesn't cost us anything it's not real love. That loosing ourselves, that experiencing the death of our dreams, our plans, our comfort for the sake of others is what love is like.

Friends, this is how Jesus loved us. That’s what the upcoming Christmas season is all about, isn't it?

Do we need reminding that the son of God laid down His rights and privileges and carried a heavy cross and suffered all the pains of hell that day to save you because He loves you and wanted to take your sins onto Himself so He could share His righteousness and eternal inheritance with you?

We do need to be reminded of this. That's why we go to the Lord's table each week. We do need to be reminded of the gospel so badly.

And we need to be reminded not just so that our hearts can say "Yay, Jesus loves me," and stay there. As we are reminded, our hearts, transformed by His love, can gladly share it with one another.

“By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers” (1 John 3:16).