Chapter two of Ruth is about the transformation of Naomi. Chapter one ended with a very despondent Naomi. She returns home to Bethlehem, telling the women of the town not to call her Naomi (which means pleasant), but instead to call her Mara (which means bitter) [1:20]. It’s a reflection of the tragedy which has befallen her – the death of her husband and sons in a foreign land leaving her poor and vulnerable. As she says, she went away full and has come back empty – no wonder she feels that God has dealt harshly with her [1:21]. And yet by the end of chapter two, Naomi is full of praise – praying God’s blessing on Boaz and declaring that the Lord has not forsaken the living or the dead [2:20]. So how does this transformation come about, especially when the story focuses not on Naomi but on Ruth and Boaz? It is through Ruth’s struggle for justice, and Boaz’s generous response, that Naomi realises that God has not abandoned her.
I hope you feel uncomfortable by Boaz’s initial question to his supervisor about Ruth; “To whom does this young woman belong?” [2:5]. Fewell and Gunn have imagined Ruth’s inward response as she overheard this question:
“’Whose young woman is this?’...Whose, he said. Whose. Nobody’s, she thought. Nobody’s hired worker. Nobody’s wife. Nobody’s mother. Nobody’s daughter. Nobody’s sister. I suppose that makes me a nobody too.”1
This imagined response highlights Ruth’s precarious position. The supervisor’s reply to Boaz reinforces this. To him Ruth is simply a foreigner – the Moabite [2:6] – that is all that he can see. Perhaps this exchange is a little too close to home. Covid-19 has shifted our attention away from Brexit, where a recurring debate has been about how we see, and treat, foreigners. Are they a drain on our resources, or an enriching gift to society?
Perhaps it should be no surprise that the protests about George Floyd’s death in America have resonated so deeply here. Black Lives Matter is effectively asking us this question too – what do you see when you look at someone? Someone who because of the colour of their skin, or their accent, of their place of birth, or ancestry, is different. Someone whose life doesn’t matter quite as much?
And perhaps Black Lives Matter resonates so deeply at the moment because Covid-19 actually serves to highlight the injustices we have learnt to live with. For all the rhetoric that we are in this together, it is those from Black, Asian, and minority ethnic (BAME) groups that are more severely affected. And whilst the exact reasons for this are still being debated, it seems likely that structural inequalities and injustice, which means for example that those with BAME backgrounds are more likely to be in low-paid jobs and poor housing, is contributing to their higher risk.
Black Lives Matter is about the struggle for justice, and like with Ruth, that struggle is often left to those who feel the effects of injustice. God’s people had been instructed to care for and provide for widows and foreigners (e.g. Deuteronomy 24: 17-22), because of their experience as slaves in the land of Egypt, and the way God had provided justice for them. Yet despite this, no-one has been providing justice for Ruth. It is Ruth who has to take up the struggle for justice. Despite instructions to allow foreigners to glean during the harvest, 1 Quoted in Ruth (The Two Horizons Old Testament Commentary), J. McKeown (William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., Cambridge, 2015), p.42-3.
Ruth has to set out hoping to find favour somewhere [2:2], and needing to ask for permission [2:7]. Even when this is granted, the other workers need to be told not to harass her [2:9] – an instruction that recognises her vulnerability to exploitation.
One of the things I love about the Bible is that it’s not afraid to show us flawed characters. There is much we could commend Boaz for. He’s introduced to us as a prominent / influential / noble rich man [2:1]. The greeting with the workers [2:4] suggests that he is both respected by them, and attempts to honour God. He is attentive to his workers, noticing Ruth [2:5], and welcoming and affirming her [2:8]. He takes action to care for and protect Ruth [2:8-9]. He generously provides more than could be expected, inviting Ruth to pick from amongst the sheaves [2:15] rather than just the leftovers at the edges. He even instructs his workers to deliberately pull out handfuls from their bundles to leave for her [2:16]. And he prays for, and seeks to bless Ruth [2:12]. In all this we can praise Boaz for reflecting the character of God, who is generous beyond measure, who always reaches out to welcome and include, to provide and protect.
Yet for all this, Boaz has only been prompted to act by Ruth’s action. Even if Ruth does not yet know it when she sets out for the field, we know that Boaz is family [2:1]. By the end of the chapter we know, with Ruth, that Boaz has the right, and the responsibility, to redeem Naomi’s land – to acquire back the family’s land [2:20], that they might be provided for. And more than all this, we know that Boaz knows this too [2:11]. He has heard the stories of who Ruth is, all that she has done for Naomi. Stories that can only have come from Naomi. He knows all this, and yet he has not acted. He does nothing until Ruth arrives unannounced in his field. Although he is rich and powerful, his generosity and graciousness has not moved him to help the destitute or caused him to seek her out. It is only Ruth’s initiative, Ruth’s demand for justice, that prompts him to action. And in so doing we discover that it’s not just Ruth who needs Boaz, but Boaz who needs Ruth. In Ruth, the foreigner, Boaz is reminded of God’s desire for justice, not just generosity, and prompted to act.
And it’s this interplay between the action of Ruth and the response of Boaz that is transformational for Naomi. In Ruth’s struggle for justice, through Boaz’s generous provision, Naomi discerns God at work. Despite all that has happened, Naomi can now begin to acknowledge that God’s loving kindness has not forsaken her or her family [2:20]. Even though Ruth was unaware of the connection, Naomi perceives God’s guidance at work, leading her to the right place, and the right person, to achieve justice. In the struggle for justice, and act of generosity, Naomi’s faith is rekindled and she is awakened once more to the faithfulness of God.
If this is true for Naomi, what might it being saying to us as Church at this time? Is God reminding us both of the need for generosity and to struggle for justice? That it’s not enough just to be generous to those in need during this pandemic, but we are to challenge the injustices that place some at higher risk? How can we, how can you and I, live generously and justly, that our lives bear witness to a God who passionately desires justice and overflows with generosity? And as we do this, might God use us, to kindle faith in the Naomi’s we encounter? That those who experience bitterness, and who ask why God has treated us harshly, discover through us that there is still a God who cares for them.