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Ruth--The Risk of Love


Author

 

Today as we cruise down “Route 66” our next stop is at the Old Testament book of Ruth. Traditionally, Samuel is thought to be the author of the book of Ruth. But it is unlikely that Samuel was the author. The mention of King David in 4:17,22 implies a later date of authorship. Most modern scholars maintain that the book of Ruth was written by some unknown author. 

 

Date

 

The traditional date for the composition of Ruth coordinates with Samuel as author, thus in the time of David, c. 1000 B.C.E. It could not have been composed earlier.

 

Based upon linguistic criteria, most modern scholars place the writing of Ruth sometime between 950 and 700 B.C.E., that is, between the time of David and the end of the Northern Kingdom, Israel, in 722 B.C.E. A few scholars, noting certain Aramaisms, date the composition of Ruth even as late as the exilic or postexilic period in the sixth or fifth century B.C.E.

 

Themes

 

The main theme of Ruth is chesed, covenant love. The book tells us much about the love between Ruth and her mother-in-law, Naomi, the love between Ruth and the man who becomes her second husband, Boaz, and the book gives us a picture, indirectly, of God’s love for all of us.

 

This is a story of inclusion, demonstrating that even outcasts like the Moabitess, Ruth, can be included in God’s covenant people when they come to God in faith.

 

Redemption is another key theme throughout this story. The Hebrew word for redemptionoccurs in various forms some 23 times in these four brief chapters of Scripture.

The story is told with great artistry against the backdrop of a dark and desperate time: the days of the Judges when everyone did what was right in their own eyes. Amidst the dank air of moral degeneracy, national disunity, and foreign oppression we read about in the book of Judges, the book of Ruth offers a fresh wind of the Spirit.

 

Structure

 

Unlike much of the story of the Old Testament so far, which has focused on the national history of Israel, the book of Ruth zeroes in on one family. That singular story is reflected in the structure of the book which reveals a near-perfect short story from the ancient world…


  1. Introduction: Naomi Emptied (1:1-5)
  2. Naomi Returns from Moab (1:6-22)
  3. Ruth and Boaz Meet in the Harvest Fields (2)
  4.  Ruth Goes to Boaz at the Threshing Floor (3)
  5. Boaz Arranges to Marry Ruth (4:1-12)
  6. Conclusion: Naomi Filled (4:13-17)
  7. Epilogue: Genealogy of David (4:18-22)

 

Key Concept—The Risk of Love

 

Let’s read the first part of Ruth’s story together…


In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land. So a man from Bethlehem in Judah, together with his wife and two sons, went to live for a while in the country of Moab. The man’s name was Elimelek, his wife’s name was Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Kilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem, Judah. And they went to Moab and lived there.

Now Elimelek, Naomi’s husband, died, and she was left with her two sons. They married Moabite women, one named Orpah and the other Ruth. After they had lived there about ten years, both Mahlon and Kilion also died, and Naomi was left without her two sons and her husband.

Naomi and Ruth Return to Bethlehem

When Naomi heard in Moab that the Lord had come to the aid of his people by providing food for them, she and her daughters-in-law prepared to return home from there. With her two daughters-in-law she left the place where she had been living and set out on the road that would take them back to the land of Judah.

Then Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back, each of you, to your mother’s home. May the Lord show you kindness, as you have shown kindness to your dead husbands and to me. May the Lord grant that each of you will find rest in the home of another husband.”

Then she kissed them goodbye and they wept aloud and said to her, “We will go back with you to your people.”

But Naomi said, “Return home, my daughters. Why would you come with me? Am I going to have any more sons, who could become your husbands? Return home, my daughters; I am too old to have another husband. Even if I thought there was still hope for me—even if I had a husband tonight and then gave birth to sons—would you wait until they grew up? Would you remain unmarried for them? No, my daughters. It is more bitter for me than for you, because the Lord’s hand has turned against me!”

At this they wept aloud again. Then Orpah kissed her mother-in-law goodbye, but Ruth clung to her.

“Look,” said Naomi, “your sister-in-law is going back to her people and her gods. Go back with her.”

But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.” When Naomi realized that Ruth was determined to go with her, she stopped urging her.

So the two women went on until they came to Bethlehem. When they arrived in Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them, and the women exclaimed, “Can this be Naomi?”

“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.”

So Naomi returned from Moab accompanied by Ruth the Moabite, her daughter-in-law, arriving in Bethlehem as the barley harvest was beginning.

 

What do you do when the romance with God, when life itself, turns bitter? Do you take the risk of love, of loving God anyway? In this passage we see how three different women answered that question: Naomi, Orpah, and Ruth. 

 

When life turned bitter for Naomi, she, amazingly, turned to the Lord and the Lord’s people. Here was Naomi, bereft of her husband and her two sons, living in a foreign country, without any visible means of support, and yet she had the courage to turn to God and to God’s people in her desperation. “When she heard in Moab that the Lord had come to the aid of his people by providing food for them, Naomi and her daughters-in-law prepared to return home from there.


Now, I don’t mean to suggest for a moment that Naomi was happy. She wasn’t and that is made quite clear in the text. Naomi says to her daughters-in-law, “It is more bitter for me than for you, because the Lord’s hand has gone out against me!” Then later she says to her old friends in Bethlehem, “Don’t call me Naomi. 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.”

 

At first glance Naomi’s complaining hardly seems godly. But the amazing thing is that in spite of all the bitter things that have happened in her life, the loss of a husband and two sons, she continues to trust in the Lord. She hears that the Lord has come to the aid of his people back home in Bethlehem by providing food for them. So she decides to return home. Naomi could just as easily have decided to stop following the Lord. After all, what good had he brought into her life? But she doesn’t respond that way. She continues to trust. She takes the risk of continuing in a relationship with God. Granted, Naomi was angry with God, but she did not stop talking to God. How much better it is to do with bitterness and anger what Naomi did than what most of us do.

 

Often, the daily irritations, disappointments and hardships of life make us angry at God. But it is the next step that is critical. What do we do with the anger? Many of us bury the anger, only at some later time to realize how it has destroyed our relationship with God and others.

 

Naomi did not bury her anger. She talked it through with God and others. Rather than turning away, she continued in the divine dialogue and waited to see what God might do next.

 

A second good thing that Naomi did was to turn to God’s people. She returned to Bethlehem. How many of us, when things go really wrong, just hole up by ourselves and avoid coming to worship? We may avoid people altogether. That’s not a good way to deal with depression. We need to stay in touch with the Lord and with each other.


Many years ago, heavy snows hit North Carolina. Following a wet, six-inch snowfall, one could see the effects along Interstate 40. Next to the highway stood several large groves of tall, young pine trees. The branches were bowed down with the heavy snow—so low that branches from one tree were often leaning against the trunk or branches of another.

 

Where trees stood alone, however, the effect of the heavy snow was different. The branches had become heavier and heavier, and since there were no other trees to lean against, the branches snapped. They lay on the ground, dark and alone in the cold snow.

 

When the storms of life hit, it is helpful if we are standing close to other believers in the Lord. The closer we stand, the more we will be able to hold up.[1] 


When hard times hit Naomi, she turned to the Lord, dumping her anger and bitterness on him, and she turned to God’s people for support.

 

How did Orpah handle life when it turned bitter? Orpah turned back.

 

Naomi encouraged her daughters-in-law to go back to their homes because she wasn’t sure what hope they would have of finding husbands in Bethlehem. At first, both Ruth and Orpah insisted on returning to Bethlehem with Naomi. But when Naomi urged them again to stay behind, Orpah kissed her mother-in-law goodbye and, as Naomi said, she went back to her people and her gods.

 

I wonder: when life turns bitter are we tempted to turn back from following the one true God? Perhaps we are so tempted. But if we turn back, then we may never discover what blessings would have followed if we continued in relationship with the Lord.

 

In December 1999, an extreme sports fanatic scaled the 120-foot statue of Christ the Redeemer on Brazil’s Corcovado Mountain and jumped from its outstretched arms. To accomplish this feat, Felix Baumgartner, 30, an Austrian, smuggled his parachute on board the little train that takes dozens of tourists up the 2,000-foot mountain to visit the statue. Once at the base of the Christ-figure, he scaled the gray stone statue, climbed on to one of its fingers, and jumped. Baumgartner’s parachute worked, and he walked away in one piece from the stunt.

 

I wonder: how many people approach life like this daredevil? Rather than turn to the One who invites all who are weary to come to him and find rest, many prefer, like Orpah, to jump from the safety of his hands.[2]

 

By contrast, how did Ruth handle life when it turned bitter for her, and she lost her husband? Ruth, like Naomi, turned to the Lord and the Lord’s people.

 

What a great example Naomi must have been of one who keeps faith with the Lord despite adversity. The fact that Naomi kept following the Lord even when bad things happened in her life must have influenced Ruth to commit her life to Naomi’s Lord. This story reveals that the way we handle bitterness in life will affect others.

 

Ruth took the risk of choosing a new way, the risk of choosing to love and follow a God she did not know much about, even amidst pain. Ruth also chose to identify herself with the lord’s people.

 

Choosing to love is always a risk. There is the risk of love in marriage, the risk that the other person will hurt us or leave us or simply die on us. There is the risk of love in childbearing, that we might lose that child somewhere along life’s way, or the risk that our child will spurn our love. There is the risk of loving our enemies, the risk that our enemies won’t extend the same olive branch to us. There is the risk of loving God. Many are afraid that at some point we will find out that we have been “had” or we are afraid that God will demand more than we can give.

 

C.S. Lewis once wrote…

 

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.[3]

 

A young woman had planned a small family wedding at her local church. When her parents arrived early on the day of the wedding to make sure everything was ready, they noticed a banner from the recent Missions Conference was still behind the pulpit. Its message seemed appropriate for the wedding as well. The banner had three words on it: WORTH THE RISK. True love for God and others is always worth the risk.

 

But how can we take the risk of loving God and his people amidst pain? I think we can only do it by the power of his love, and his grace, and the faith that he imparts to us. I believe the fullest revelation of God’s love has been disclosed to us in Jesus Christ, in his perfect life, his death on the cross for our sins, and his resurrection from the dead. It is supremely in the cross of Christ that we see what real love is. It is by the cross that we are empowered to love him and others.

 

I think I shared with you once before this poem, by an anonymous poet, that Becky and I had in our wedding program 35 years ago…

 

Love is not passion, love is not pride,

Love is a journeying side by side;

Not of the breezes, nor of the gale,

Love is the steady set of the sail.


Deeper than ecstasy, sweeter than light,

Born in the sunshine, born in the night,

Flaming in victory, stronger in loss,

Love is a sacrament made for a cross.



[1] Carl G. Conner, Elizabeth City, North Carolina, Leadership, Vol. 16, no. 4)

[2] Alan Wilson, Nyon, Switzerland; Daily Telegraph, London, 12-4-99.

[3] The Four Loves

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