Sermon Tone Analysis

Introduction—the book of Ruth

This week we’re starting a short series on the book of Ruth.

We wanted to look at a story, and what more delightful story is there than the story of Ruth?

It was probably written in the time of King David or Solomon.

The author is unknown, but very skilled.

It is an historic book—it’s not mythological or poetic.

It’s a simple, elegant, historical account of ordinary people who showed extraordinary faith, and were used by God in amazing ways.

It could be a story about me or you, and that’s why it’s such a popular book.

So let’s dig in.

Part 1—The emptying

Scene 1—Leaving home

Our story begins:

This first part of Ruth is very terse.

It sets the scene so quickly it’s easy to miss what’s going on here.

It’s especially hard for those of us who live in vastly different cultures.

So let’s slow down and try to understand this setting.

This story occurs during the reign of Judges in Israel.

What’s that mean?

During this period life was tough, the Israelites were barely scratching out a living, beset on every side.

So people had to stick together in families and extended families.

Something like a famine could spell disaster for a community.

If this reminds you of the stories of Abraham or Isaac, it should: the author of Ruth uses exactly the same phrase to introduce the famine as in Genesis, and that’s the only other times this phrase is used in the Bible.

It’s easy to see, then, why this man would take his family away to somewhere that offered refuge during a famine.

Unfortunately, Moab is like Egypt and Gerar—it offers dubious safety to God’s people.

Israel and Moab’s relationship throughout history is complex and fraught.

You might remember that Moab was settled by Lot’s descendants.

However, despite this, they did their best to obstruct Israel’s journey to the promised land, leading to Moses declaring:

Still, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures.

I know I’m not the only one here who has left my home town to find a more secure future.

In fact, I’ve done it more than once.

Who else has done that?

It’s tough, isn’t it?

Back at this time, moving country was tough, not because of visa requirements, but because of lack of family, lack of connections.

You were really an outsider, and so your situation was perilous.

Better than starvation, though!

So, who were these mysterious migrants?

Did you know that Elimelech means “God is king” or “God is my king?”

That seems like a faithful sort of name, doesn’t it?

Naomi means “pleasant one,” which is a nice name, isn’t it?

You can imagine the hopes of the parents of this couple.

The names of the two sons, though often interpreted in various ways, seem to be nothing more than typical names for that period.

We need to remember: these people are not archetypal characters in a myth, they’re just an ordinary, everyday family, trying to survive in difficult times.

Scene 2—Losing everything

Unfortunately for this family, things don’t go well in their place of refuge:

Even from our modern perspective, this seems like a pretty horrible situation for Naomi (not to mention Ruth and Orpah).

But in that day and age, it’s much worse.

You see, in the Ancient Near East, people didn’t function in society as individuals, rather they operated as part of a family unit.

The head of that family unit was the patriarch, the oldest male.

He was the one who made the decisions, who bore the responsibility, who protected and provided for the family.

That’s why verse 1 says that it was Elimelech who left his home and went to Moab, bringing the rest of the family with him.

When a woman’s husband died, her interface to society transferred to either his brothers (or parents) or to her own sons.

Obviously, in Moab, Naomi had only her sons to rely on.

Fortunately, those two sons found wives, and with them the hope of families of their own.

However, ten, long years passed with no children, and then, horrifyingly, both those sons died.

Naomi now found herself with no genuine social identity; all the men who could connect her into the broader society, who could protect her and negotiate for her, had died.

On top of that, she still had two daughters-in-law and, as the elder, she had some responsibility for them.

Naomi’s life, once so full and secure, had been completely stripped away of everything but the burdens of responsibility.

What could she do?

Part 2—Returning home

Scene 3—Turning back home

At last!

Some good news!

The famine was over!

It can’t have been hard for Naomi to decide to return to Bethlehem.

At least there she had relatives and countrymen.

At least there the law demanded protection for widows.

But what could she do with her daughters-in-law?

They seemed determined to come with her.

Naomi is clever.

Instead of trying to persuade her daughters-in-law to abandon her while they are still all surrounded by the familiarity of the last ten years, Naomi gives them a taste of life on the road before abruptly halting in the middle of nowhere and confronting them with a choice.

It’s still not an easy choice.

Naomi and her girls clearly have a deep and genuine love for one another, and they all bawl their eyes out.

But a decision must be made.

Scene 4—A decision

At first, the daughters-in-law are adamant that they will remain with Naomi.

But then Naomi explains the hard facts of their situation to them.

While they stay with Naomi they have no hope of ever being part of a whole family again—Naomi is too old to provide that for them.

Their only hope is another marriage, and they can only secure that from the safety of their own families.

It is a harsh reality that the world separates people who have a deep, abiding love for one another.

This still happens, and it always will, until the final day.

So, what do the girls decide?

One of them, Orpah, is sensible, and heads home with a broken heart.

The other, Ruth, will not let go of Naomi.

But why not?

What does Naomi have to offer?

Imagine the scene.

Two women, dusty, tired, hungry.

The dust on their faces is streaked with tears, the mud dripping on their clothes.

They cling together, barely standing in their grief.

Behind them is nothing but peril and poverty.

Ahead of them?

For the younger woman it is nothing but strangers and poverty, and probably a lonely death.

For the older, death among friends.

There is nothing special about these two women.

They are poor.

They are abandoned.

They are weak.

And yet, the declaration that Ruth gives here is one of the great declarations of the whole of the Bible, up there with Joshua’s declaration of family faith, Mary’s song to the Lord, and Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Messiah.

In this declaration, Ruth aligns herself with Naomi, her people, and her God.

Despite Ruth’s only experience of Yahweh being a God who is silent in the midst of famine and death, Ruth makes herself his faithful servant.