1

United Church in the Valley: December 3, 2017 Student Minister: Matthew Heesing Jesus’ Family Tree Part II: Ruth Scripture Readings: Matthew 1:1-5: Last week, we heard how the family tree of Jesus, according to the Gospel of Matthew, began with two people named Abraham and Sarah. Abraham and Sarah walked a path of hope, and eventually became the parents of Isaac. And from there, in Matthew’s genealogy, Isaac was the father of Jacob, Jacob was the father of Judah, Judah and Tamar were the parents of Perez, Perez was the father of Hezron, Hezron, the father of Ram, Ram the father of Amminadab, Amminadab the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon and Rahab were the parents of Boaz, and Boaz married a Moabite woman—an outsider—named Ruth.

Ruth 1:1-22 (excerpts) Long ago, before the people of Israel had a king, there was a famine in the land of Judah. In order to find food, a man from Bethlehem, together with his wife and two sons, left his home, and moved to the foreign region of Moab. The man’s name was Elimelech, and his wife’s name was Naomi, meaning “Joy” or “Delight.” But after moving to Moab, Elimelech died, leaving Naomi and their two sons to fend for themselves. The two sons eventually married Moabite women. One was named Orpah, and the other, Ruth. About ten years later, both of Naomi’s sons also died. Naomi was left all alone, with no husband, and no sons.

When she heard that there was a good harvest, back at home, back in Bethlehem, Naomi prepared to leave the land of Moab and return to her homeland. Orpah and Ruth joined her on the road, but she turned to them and said, “Don’t you want to go back home to your own mothers? You were kind to my husband and my sons, and you have always been kind to me. I pray that the Lord will be just as kind to you. May God give each of you another husband, and a home of your own. Go—go return home. What good will it do you to go with me?”

Naomi kissed them goodbye, and they wept together. Then Orpah kissed Naomi, and returned to her people, as Naomi had instructed. But Ruth stayed by Naomi’s side. Naomi said to Ruth: “Look—your sister-in-law is going back to her people, and back to her gods! She has made the best choice for her! Why don’t you follow behind?”

But Ruth said to Naomi, “Please don’t tell me to leave you and return home. Wherever you will go, I will follow. And your people will be my people too. I will live where you live; your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I will die and be buried beside you. I swear—may God be my witness and my judge—that not even death will keep us apart. May the Lord punish me, if I ever leave you or forsake you.”

When Naomi saw that Ruth had made up her mind to go with her, she stopped urging her to go back. When they arrived in Bethlehem, the little town was abuzz with gossip. “Is this really Naomi?” they said. Then she told them: “Don’t call me Naomi any longer. Call me Mara, meaning ‘bitterness,’ for I have lost everything.” And that is how Naomi left the land of Moab, with Ruth, the Moabite woman, and returned to Bethlehem. 2

Sermon: Last week, we heard the story of Abraham and Sarah, the first ancestors of Jesus, and we heard how they walked a path of hope: hope that would also have an influence on the way that Jesus would later live. And this week, as we continue waiting for Jesus to arrive, and wondering what this baby will bring to the world, and as we walk to Bethlehem, together, we hear the story of another person who is part of Jesus’ family tree— another influence on who Jesus will be— a Moabite outsider, a woman named Ruth.

At first, the story of Ruth seems fairly straight-forward: because of a famine, a lack of food, a woman named Naomi and her family move from Israel to Moab, and tragically, her husband, and her two sons die, leaving Naomi with no choice but to go back home, to Bethlehem. And as she prepares for her departure, her two widowed daughters-in-law, Orpah and Ruth, try and go with her, but Naomi says “Go back home! Go back to your mothers! What good will it do you, to go with me?” They kiss and weep and cry, and Naomi says goodbye. Eventually, Orpah obeys Naomi’s orders, and turns around on the road, but Ruth makes a moving speech, “Wherever you will go, I will follow,” and in the end, we imagine the two of them, Ruth and Naomi, daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, riding off into the sunset, on a sentimental journey, “side by side.”

At least, that’s the story we heard from the Children’s Bible this morning. But the story of Ruth is not so simple or straight-forward. In fact, it is easy to miss the point, especially while situated in our present context, sitting and listening here right now, surrounded by people that are fairly similar— similar, at least, in ethnicity, status, cultural background and belief— because being surrounded by so much similarity, can make it much harder to comprehend the deeper, more challenging meaning of this story. 3

Because the Book of Ruth is not about a sentimental journey, of a daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, of family members, similar people, best buddies that end up moving together, walking to Bethlehem side by side— instead, the Book of Ruth is about something more radical, a counter-intuitive incredible relationship. It’s a story about walking a path of love— a path of love with someone who is not the same, a path of love with someone who is different.

The story of Ruth is a challenging story— a challenging story to understand, and a challenging story to accept, because this is a story that shows us what it means, and involves, and what it requires to walk a path of love with someone that is different from ourselves.

For you see, Naomi was an Israelite, a member of the set-apart people of God, and Ruth was a Moabite, a member of the people of Moab, and these two distinct and separate tribes—the Israelites and Moabites— did not interact or get along at all. From the point of view of the Moabites, the Israelites were violent invaders, individuals who felt entitled to Moabite land, and tried to take it from the Moabites by force. And according to the Israelite perspective, Moabites were the ultimate enemy, unworthy outsiders that ought to be excluded and ostracized, and even—if possible—completely wiped out.

In fact, around the time the Book of Ruth was written and recorded, the people of Israel were trying to rebuild, seeking to make themselves successful again, and one of the ways that they thought this could happen was by forcing all of the foreigners out of their area— foreigners that had immigrated from lands like Moab, especially Moabite women and children, those who simply didn’t fit in, or spoke a different language, or believed something different about the divine. Making Israel great again meant sending all the Moabites away. 4

Sadly, some things never change. But hopefully, this little bit of history helps explain how challenging this story truly is— challenging to its original audience, but also challenging to the way we do things now, whether siloing ourselves with complementary opinions, or reading only articles that we might agree with, or surrounding ourselves with the safety of sameness, or sending away those that are somehow different, whereas Ruth embodies and embraces an alternative: a relationship with the other, whoever that might be, by walking a path of love, together.

Ruth walked a path of love, a path of love with her Israelite mother-in-law, Naomi. A path of love that was brave, and grave, and would eventually save— just like the love of Jesus, many generations later.

But let’s start at the beginning. Ruth walks a path of love, with the kind of love that is incredibly brave. Because love isn’t always easy or automatic, especially when loving someone so different than ourselves. And the path of love that Ruth walks with Naomi is a road that requires a courageous commitment: a bold commitment to cross borders and boundaries— not only the geographical border, from Moab to Israel, “wherever you will go, I will follow”— but also other bigger boundaries and barriers: “your people will be my people too” is the promise that Ruth makes to Naomi— and that means bravely breaking down walls of cultural difference and language and food and tradition and custom, and even religion, because “your God will be my God,” says Ruth.

This is a barrier-breaking love, a love that knows no bounds, no limits, a love of an other that is incredibly brave.

In fact, there’s a Hebrew word used to describe the love of Ruth for Naomi: hesed, which some translate as “loving kindness,” but can also be defined as “steadfast love”: a love that “goes above and beyond that which is normally required,” a love that goes above and beyond any normal expectations, 5 the same kind of love that God has for God’s people: involving a choice to keep on loving, no matter the challenges that might emerge. And there will be challenges— there’s always challenges, when we walk a path of love, especially when walking with others that are different. And that’s why Ruth’s love is brave but also grave. It’s serious stuff— not simply superficial or only on the surface, not fickle or fair-weather or always good feeling, this love is grave, because it knows what it is getting into. There’s a reason why Naomi tries to send both her daughters-in-law back home— she’s well aware how these two foreign women will be treated, regarded and received. Orpah, the other widow, ultimately chooses the path of least resistance— she returns to what she has always known, the familiar, comfortable, safe routine, surrounded by others who are similar to herself. Which, if we’re honest, is what we often do as well.

But Ruth is willing to leave it all behind, to die to her past, as one author puts it, all her past habits and customs, her former views and traditions, her presuppositions, are all put to the side, in order to offer love to this Israelite woman— those who her people would have called enemy.

Ruth’s love is brave, and grave, because it will involve loss— leaving what she knew behind, because there’s no place for our past assumptions on a path of love.

But walking a path of love— a path of love with someone different— will also involve grave consequences, for once Ruth enters Bethlehem, she will be the recipient of rumors and gossip, complaint and prejudice, persecution and critique. She will only be known as “Ruth…the Moabite”— even in the Book of Ruth, almost every time she is mentioned, it is as “the Moabite.” She is always other. Always ostracized. And even Naomi seems to ignore her, as soon as they arrive in town: 6

“Call me Mara,” she says, “meaning bitterness, for I have lost everything.” Wait a second—what about Ruth?

Loving someone different isn’t easy. Loving someone different requires sacrifice and selflessness. Loving someone different carries difficult consequences. But loving someone different is always worth it. Because not only is Ruth’s love brave, and grave, it will also save.

As a result of Ruth’s love for Naomi, only because Ruth walked a path of love from Moab to Bethlehem, can a new future be formed and found. We only heard the first part of the story— go and read the rest at home— it’s only four chapters!— but here’s a spoiler alert for how it all ends: if Ruth had not travelled with Naomi, she would not have been in Bethlehem to pluck and pick grain to feed Naomi, and not only that, while she’s in the barley fields, she meets a man named Boaz, and they marry, which means Naomi and Ruth are now provided for, saved—from a life of poverty— and from Ruth and Boaz comes a baby boy, and with him, comes a blessing from the entire village for the one named Mara, meaning bitterness, to bring her back to her real name, Naomi, a name meaning joy and delight, and the blessing for Naomi at the end of the Book of Ruth says, “Praise be to God, who has not abandoned you but provided you with a savior! …For your daughter-in-law Ruth who loves you and has proven better than seven of your own children could ever have been, has given birth to a child.”

From the love of Ruth emerges life and possibility. From the love of Ruth comes a future for Naomi and others, for Ruth’s son’s was Obed, and Obed was the father of Jesse, and Jesse was the father of King David, 7 and King David was also an ancestor of Jesus. From one baby boy, born in Bethlehem, comes another, many, many, many years later. And this baby boy, who would become a man— a man named Jesus, would be absolutely influenced by those that came before— influenced by his ancestor, Ruth the Moabite woman, because he too, would walk a path of love: a path of love with those that were different, and his love too, would also be brave: for Jesus’ love would break down barriers, and cross over boundaries of social taboos, like touching the unclean, and eating with the unworthy, and sitting with outsiders, and associating with sinners.

Hemorrhaging women would hang onto his cloak, he would heal the sick on the Sabbath day of rest, he would put his hands on the possessed and suffering, constantly breaking down walls of cultural difference and tradition and custom, and even all sorts of religious understandings, Like Ruth, Jesus would live out a barrier-breaking love, a love that knew no bounds, no limits, that went above and beyond that which was normally required, a love of others that was incredibly brave.

But it came at a cost. This love was also grave. Because by showing this love for those that were different, Jesus faced judgment from others around him. “No greater love has a person than this,” Jesus said, “than to lay down their life for their friends.” And love that is brave, can involve grave consequences: loving those that others ignore, going against the status quo, living in a way that is counter-conventional can bring about criticism, ridicule, and persecution, even—in the case of Jesus—death on a cross.

But as we know, the love of Jesus would also save: it would lead past the persecution of the cross, to the empty tomb, the promise of new life. By walking a path of love, Jesus showed the world the saving power and infinite possibility 8 and life-changing importance of hesed: loving kindness, steadfast love, making the choice to keep on loving, no matter the challenges that might emerge. And as followers of Jesus, part of God’s great family tree, we are called to continue this example: to walk a path of love, especially with others that are different from us, as Ruth did long ago, as Jesus did later, as we can do today, whether that means walking with and loving those with different physical abilities, or those of another sexual orientation, or a different gender identification, or different faith traditions or beliefs, whether it means walking a path of love with those who support a different political party, or those who promote a different agenda, or those who have a different diet, or those of a different cultural background, we are called to continue walking a path of love, with a love that is brave— courageous and committed— a love that is grave— serious and selfless, aware of the cost— and a love that will save, ourselves and others by sharing the love that God has given us.

So this Advent—and beyond— as we travel to Bethlehem and wait for Jesus to be born, may we follow the example of Ruth, just like Jesus, and walk a path of love, together. Thanks be to God.