Ruth 1 | Psalm 22 | 1 Corinthians 15:50-58 | Mark 15:33-47
Ruth 1
1 In the days when the judges ruled there was a famine in the land, and a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons. 2 The name of the man was Elimelech and the name of his wife Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Chilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They went into the country of Moab and remained there. 3 But Elimelech, the husband of Naomi, died, and she was left with her two sons. 4 These took Moabite wives; the name of the one was Orpah and the name of the other Ruth. They lived there about ten years, 5 and both Mahlon and Chilion died, so that the woman was left without her two sons and her husband. 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. 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. 9 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. 10 And they said to her, “No, we will return with you to your people.” 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? 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? No, my daughters, for it is exceedingly bitter to me for your sake that the hand of the Lord has gone out against me.” 14 Then they lifted up their voices and wept again. And Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her. 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.” 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.” 18 And when Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more. 19 So the two of them went on until they came to Bethlehem. And when they came to Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them. And the women said, “Is this Naomi?” 20 She said to them, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. 21 I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?” 22 So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab. And they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest.
Introduction
This morning, I want to talk about Singing the Blues. To sing the blues, you do not necessarily need words. One of the earliest, greatest blues recordings is of a song called “Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground,” by Blind Willie Johnson, recorded in 1927.[1] There are no lyrics, traditionally understood, in this song. It is Blind Willie playing his slide guitar, humming, moaning, conveying his fatigue and sorrow, wailing. Listen to it later. It is powerful. The antecedents of blues music go back around 65 years earlier, to the 1860s, to the songs sung by slaves in the American South. In fact, historically, the probable origin of the blues is the melancholic singing or lamenting and somber worldview characteristic of slaves taken from the Igbo tribes of Nigeria.[2] Early blues music, lyrically, took the form of loose narratives, focused on harsh realities: cruelty, oppression, lost love.[3] Musically, this outlook was expressed in slow, trudging rhythms—called the groove—that undergird the music, call and response patterns, and flattened third, fifth, and seventh notes in the chords—the so-called worried notes or blue notes. The influence of this genre is as undeniable as its introspective, sorrowful, quality is unmistakable. It is the music of the heart of those who experience the hard things of life.
As we turn to Ruth, chapter 1, this morning, we find a woman in the midst of the hardest things of life. As we consider Naomi, her difficult situation, we see that she is both fully present in the pain she is experiencing, and yet she does not lose her grasp, her last firm hold, on hope in her God. Indeed, and this is the lesson I think we are meant to consider: When all seems lost, there is God. Let me put that song on repeat: When all seems lost, there is God. This is the question of the text: When all has gone terribly wrong, when we are on the verge of hitting rock bottom, when it is time to sing the deepest, darkest, dirtiest blues, where shall we look for hope? Ruth 1 has an answer.
1. When All Seems Lost
Like any good story, this book begins with the setting. Take a look at the first verse. “In the days when the judges ruled…”[4] We are only seven words in, and we know things are not great. The book of Ruth immediately follows a book helpfully titled Judges. The refrain in the last five chapters of that book, and indeed the very last words of that book, the sentence that immediately precedes this book is this: “In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”[5] This is the Bible’s way of saying things were less than great.
That first verse goes on to show the precipitating conflict of the book, the dramatic tension that sets the story in motion. “There was a famine in the land, and a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons.”[6] Famine. It was not just a scarcity of moral character in the land, but a scarcity of food. And so, this family, hoping to survive, packed up and sojourned to Moab, a strange land across the Dead Sea to the east. This was a precarious move. The Moabites were a people born out of incest, followers of pagan gods.[7] It is where Moses died generations earlier.[8] And so, for this Israelite family to leave their land, this Promised Land where God was with his people, and move to this heathen enclave was a move of desperation. Remember that word. Desperation. We might call it a blue note.
In the next verse, we learn that the father in the family is named Elimelech, which means my God is King. His wife is Naomi, which means pleasant, lovely, delightful. Naomi and Elimelech had two sons who were named, with a hint of tragic foreshadowing, Mahlon and Chilion. Apparently these are old Canaanite names which mean sickness and failing or wasting away.[9] Over the next three verses, things get worse. We learn the Elimelech died. Let’s call that a setback to the family. And then, in the wake of grief, the sons took Moabite wives. Now, foreign wives were always a problem for Israel, but especially so in this case as Moabites were explicitly forbidden from entering the assembly of God’s people.[10] And of course, mothers and daughters-in-law have also always been problematic. You do not need me to tell you that. It is not an accident that Jesus, when he talks about the division he brings with judgment that the only metaphor of animosity he adds beyond parents and children is mothers and daughters-in-law.[11] And so, here we have Naomi, dealing with the disappointment of both her sons making arguably poor decisions about who they married. Foreign, pagan, disappointment. Remember that word. Disappointment. Desperation. Two blue notes.
Then, in verse 5, things somehow get even worse. Ten years have passed. No new husband. No relief from the famine. No grandchildren. Probably even more disappointment. And then, in yet one last heartbreak, both sons die. Desperation. Disappointment. Death. All three blue notes. In the space of five short verses, Naomi has lost her home, her nation, her husband, and both of her sons. There’s still no food. Scarcity of morality and scarcity of food and now, as she points out later, total emptiness.[12] All she has left are a couple of Moabite daughters-in-law. It is no wonder, that when we get to the end of the chapter, she cries out to those calling her Naomi: “Call me Mara [which means bitter], for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me.”[13]
2. There is God
Naomi is a woman who finds herself at the worst moment of her life. And yet, I do not believe that she has lost her grip on her hope in God. Buried in the details of this story, I believe we have indicators, clues as to the enduring faith of this woman. Let me offer a few for your consideration.
First, she never lost sight of from where her provision comes. It is there in verse 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.”[14] The economic engine—her husband and sons—were gone. And yet, the moment she hears that the Lord is providing, she packs up and goes straight home. No question of the awkwardness of returning with heathen daughters-in-law after more than 10 years away. The Lord provides. Go home. It is as though she recalled the God of Abraham, who provided the sacrifice, or she knew the Psalm that would be written generations about God, the shepherd, who makes sure his people do not want.[15] She knows and does not doubt the character of her God, a God who provides.
Maybe that is suggestive. But consider also this: her interaction with Ruth. In a profoundly sacrificial act, Naomi tells her daughters-in-law: ‘go home to your mothers.’ It is easy for to us overlook this. We are so used to mothers being selfless. And yet, here she is, brokenhearted from loss, desperate, and the last two people with her—she sends away for their own good. She thinks, in that moment, they are young and have a better chance if they go to their homes. They initially resist. Naomi responds: “Turn back, my daughters; why will you go with me? Have I yet sons in my womb that they may become your husbands?”[16] This is a reference to what is called Levirate marriage. In those days, according to Deuteronomy, if a man dies with no son, his brother is to take on his wife such that his lineage might continue in a kind of transfer of family lines.[17] Naomi, tells the girls: ‘I am too old to have any more sons, coming with me will not secure you a new husband. Go home. You are better off there.’ In fact, and this is what I really want you to see beyond her selflessness, the initial statement is framed as a prayer. Verses 8-9: “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. The Lord grant that you may find rest, each of you in the house of her husband!”[18] Naomi is praying for them while talking to them. Two phrases. “May the Lord deal kindly with you.” That word, kindly, is hesed, as in God’s everlasting, steadfast hesed love. And the second: “The Lord grant that you may find rest…” This woman, who has suffered profound loss, who, herself, desperately needs rest, looks at these girls and selflessly, prayerfully, and I dare say faithfully, wishes the Lord’s love and rest upon them. Mothers.
Third, when Naomi finally gets home to Bethlehem at the end of the chapter, daughter-in-law Ruth at her side, she is addressed by her extended family. They roll up on her and say: ‘Hey, isn’t that Naomi.’ And we already heard her response: “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara [which means bitter], for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty.”[19] This woman, who used to be named pleasant and lovely has changed her name to bitter. She is no politician. She does not mince her words. She owns what seems like the judgment of God against her. She is fully present in and embodies her misery. And yet, in taking this particular name, I think she gives us another clue. Bitter is not an especially common word in the Hebrew Bible, with most of its references being to bitter water.[20] And the first reference to bitter water comes from a famous incident in Exodus 15.[21] Having just passed through the Red Sea, having just sung his victory song, Moses leads the people into the wilderness. And their first stop, after looking for water for three days, is at a place called Marah. It is called that because the water was bitter. The people, as they do, grumbled at their leader. Moses, for his part, cried out to the Lord. And the Lord provided him a log to throw in the water, turning it sweet. And so, when Naomi claims this name, she is indicating her bitterness, but I also think there is an awareness of how quickly, easily, and miraculously God can remove that bitterness. God takes what is bitter, and he makes it sweet. Naomi knows this simple truth: Faithfulness is not the same thing as optimism. People think that faith is idealistic, pain-free, unthinking, unconcerned, adorably naïve, always positive, never-a-cloud-in-the-sky, unfettered optimism. It is not. Naomi knows that faith is being certain that when all is lost, when death and despair have prevailed, there is God.
Sarah laughed. Rebecca deceived. Leah sold out. Rachel envied. Delilah betrayed. And Naomi despaired. And throughout all of it, there was God, preserving, protecting, forgiving, holding in the palm of his hand and loving. Naomi knows what every mother, every woman, every Christian, male or female needs to know: You are not your failures. You are not your worst day. You are not your loss or your pain. And neither are you your success or your joy. You are loved by God. And so when all seems lost, please remember, there is God.
And so today, today we honor mothers, those who, like Naomi, have been through despair, who have been disappointed, who have seen death up close, who have struggled in their own faith and on behalf of their sons and daughters, who have been through bitter times of life, and who remain faithful. May you be known as sweet. May you remember what Naomi faithfully believed, having not even seen what was to come.
Conclusion
You see, by chapter 4 of this book, Ruth, Naomi’s daughter-in-law, had married a man named Boaz, a kinsman of Naomi’s deceased husband Elimelech. And Boaz and Ruth had a son. And the women of the tribe, upon seeing Naomi holding this baby boy, to whom she is not genetically related, the women proclaimed: “A son has been born to Naomi.”[22] This mother, Naomi, who had no more sons, who was empty and bitter, who had no hope, by adoption, had a son, not by blood, but by faith. This son, Obed, fathered another son called Jesse, and Jesse fathered a son called David who became king. And according to Matthew, 28 generations later, Naomi’s great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandson was Jesus, the son of Mary and Joseph, the Son of God. And the wood that would turn her bitterness to sweetness was not the log in the waters of Marah, but the wood upon which that Son hanged. You see, when Blind Willie Johnson sang the blues, when he sang “Dark was the Night, Cold was the Ground,” he was singing of that night, that night when Jesus was betrayed, that night when Jesus went to the cross, when darkness overcame the land and a cold grave was opened to receive him.[23]
But brothers and sisters, all the blue notes in the world could not drown out the song of joy on that Easter morning. All the wailing and weeping in the world could not mute the profound joy of an empty grave, a risen Savior, the bitterness of death, overwhelmed with the sweetness of life. And that song, brothers and sisters, is the power of God over our pain, over our desperation and despair, it is his power to raise us, to take our bitterness and make it sweet. Paul connects Christ’s resurrection, in 1 Corinthians 15, in terms of its effect for us: “We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.”[24]
This, this is what you must remember when it is time to sing the blues. When you face the hard things of life, when all seems lost, know what Naomi knew: There is God. There is his Son, Jesus Christ, conqueror of death, waiting with open arms.
Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
yet in my dreams I’d be
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee![25]
Let me pray: Heavenly Father, great is your lovingkindness to we who are in pain. May we know that in you there is no bitterness, but rest. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.
[1] Blind Willie Johnson, “Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground,” 1927.
[2] James G. Thomas, Jr. (ed.), The New Encyclopedia of Southern Culture: Ethnicity (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007), 166.
[3] David Ewen, Panorama of American Popular Music: The Story of Our National Ballads and Folk Songs, the Songs of Tin Pan Alley, Broadway and Hollywood, New Orleans (Hoboken: Prentice Hall, 1957), 142-143.
[4] Ruth 1:1.
[5] Jdg 21:25.
[6] Ruth 1:1.
[7] Moab was, in fact, one a son born to Lot and his oldest daughter in their incestuous pairing in Gen 19:30-38.
[8] Deut 34:5-8.
[9] David J. Atkinson, The Message of Ruth: The Wings of Refuge (Downers Grove: IVP Academic), 26-27.
[10] Deut 23:3.
[11] Luke 12:49-53.
[12] Ruth 1:21.
[13] Ruth 1:20.
[14] Ruth 1:6.
[15] Gen 22:8, 14. Ps 23:1.
[16] Ruth 1:11.
[17] Deut 25:1-10.
[18] Ruth 1:8-9.
[19] Ruth 1:20-21.
[20] For example, see Num 5:11-28.
[21] Exod 15:22-25.
[22] Ruth 4:17.
[23] Mark 15:33-47.
[24] 1 Cor 15:51-52.
[25] Sarah Flowers Adams, “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” 1841.