Aug. 14, 2011
Background Scripture: Ruth 1:8-18
Devotional Reading: Romans 10:5-13

Increasingly, polls are telling us that in America, England and Western Europe there are many who, while they believe in God and even perhaps Jesus Christ, they nevertheless feel they do not need the Church and churches. They are confident they can be solitary disciples without having to be involved with other Christians.

Perhaps you have heard or read of Simeon Stylites, the fifth-century A.D. Syrian saint who chained himself high atop a 60-foot pillar for 37 years, dispensing spiritual advice to and teaching pilgrims gathered below.
I am not qualified to judge
whether Simeon could live in solitary isolation and still be a disciple of Jesus, but I am confident that his was not an example of Christian discipleship to be duplicated.
As a casual fellow traveler with John Wesley one day exclaimed: “Young man, the Bible knows nothing of solitary religion. You must find companions or make them.”

Christian discipleship from the very beginning involved other people. The model for the earliest Christians was the synagogue, and indeed the term ”church” comes from the Greek ekklesia, meaning an assembly of those called by God.

And the Hebrew term qahal is translated into English as “congregation.” Although Jesus had some solitary moments in his ministry, he was mostly in the company of seekers and disciples.

Bitter obstacles

So what has that to do with Ruth and Naomi? I see their story as the exact opposite of that of Simeon Stylites. For one thing, the story is one of barriers: Elimelech and Naomi, experiencing hard economic times in Bethlehem and in desperation, packing up and going to Moab, one of the Israelites’ most despised enemies.
Whatever the reprieve, it was only temporary because both their sons, as well as the father, died there. It is difficult for us today to appreciate what these three deaths meant to Naomi and the two daughters-in-law. There was hardly anything worse that could befall a married woman in those days.

Widows had hardly any means of feeding, housing and clothing themselves. It was sometimes said that to become a widow was a virtual death sentence. If Ruth and Orpah had been Jews instead of Moabites, they could have claimed the Israelite privilege of marrying one of their husbands’ brothers. But the only way Ruth and Orpah could marry again would be for them to remain in Moab.

So, for both of them to say to Naomi, “No, we will return with you to your people” (1:10) was above and beyond normal duty to their mother-in-law. Their relationship was more than a legal tie.
When at last Naomi was able to persuade Orpah to remain (and remarry) in Moab, she respected her choice because she knew that marriage was the only respectable way for a woman to achieve social and economic security.

Beyond ‘kindly’

When Naomi says to Ruth and Orpah, “Go back each of you to your mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me,” the Hebrew word khesed, translated as “kindly,” actually points beyond kindness to acts of grace: God to His children, and His children to other children, a prod to go beyond what the law requires and that which the recipient expects or deserves.

The occasion to offer this grace to others usually comes in the valleys, rather than the mountaintops. Simeon Stylites, secure on his pillar, would have had few or no opportunities to extend grace to others. Ruth, on the other hand, was tied to Naomi, not by law or expectation, but by respect and love. And this tie was and is more important and compelling than any other.

It is interesting that Naomi’s name means “sweet” or “pleasant,” but when our story opens, she is anything but “sweet” and “pleasant.” When they reach Bethlehem, she says to friends and relatives that she is no more Naomi. So they shall call her “Mara,” the feminine form of the Hebrew word for “bitter.”

Sweet Naomi has become bitter Mara. It happens, doesn’t it, particularly when we suspect that God has abandoned us or not heard us? By herself, Naomi probably would have remained “Mara,” but with the love and commitment of Ruth she could once again become “sweet” and “pleasant” Naomi.

During World War I a young American soldier about to enter No Man’s Land asked the chaplain, “Pray for me that I may come back alive.”

“I will do more than that,” replied the chaplain. “I will go with you.”
And that is what Ruth said to Naomi: “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (1:16). And somewhere, someone or someones wait for you to say the same.

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with questions or comments for Rev. Althouse may write to him in care of this publication.