Responding to God's Love: Ruth - God's Hesed

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

This fall we’ve been reading stories of people who lived out God’s calling for their lives through the relationships they had with God and with other people. Today is our sixth story of covenant and relationship. Before we begin looking at today’s story, we’re going to see how well we remember the previous five stories.

To do this, I need five volunteers. Each one of these people represents one of our stories. Your job, first, is to figure out which story they symbolize. Your second job is to, then, identify the order that these stories appear in the Bible. If you need it, you can use the pew Bible to help jog your memory. 

• Gen. 2:16-17 - Plant, symbolizing creation
• Genesis 18:14a - Bread, symbolizing Abraham and Sarah’s hospitality
• Genesis 32:28 - Wrestler, symbolizing Jacob wrestling with God
• Exodus 3:5 - Barefoot, symbolizing "holy ground"
• Deuteronomy 6:5 - Ten Commandments or tablet, symbolizing God giving Moses the Ten Commandments

Now that we’ve reviewed these stories of God and God’s relationship to people, let’s hear today's story. It’s also about relationship, although God doesn’t play a direct role in this story. So, perhaps, for us, it’s an important story. Because in these times after Christ, we don’t see a visible God present in our world, but more of a hidden God, working behind the scenes, just as in today’s story.

During the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land. A man with his wife and two sons went from Bethlehem of Judah to dwell in the territory of Moab. The name of that man was Elimelech, the name of his wife was Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Chilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They entered the territory of Moab and settled there.

But Elimelech, Naomi’s husband, died. Then only she was left, along with her two sons. They took wives for themselves, Moabite women; the name of the first was Orpah and the name of the second was Ruth. And they lived there for about ten years.

But both of the sons, Mahlon and Chilion, also died. Only the woman was left, without her two children and without her husband.

Then she arose along with her daughters-in-law to return from the field of Moab, because while in the territory of Moab she had heard that the Lord had paid attention to his people by providing food for them. She left the place where she had been, and her two daughters-in-law went with her. They went along the road to return to the land of Judah.

Naomi said to her daughters-in-law, “Go, turn back, each of you to the household of your mother. May the Lord deal faithfully with you, just as you have done with the dead and with me. May the Lord provide for you so that you may find security, each woman in the household of her husband.” Then she kissed them, and they lifted up their voices and wept.

But they replied to her, “No, instead we will return with you, to your people.”

Naomi replied, “Turn back, my daughters. Why would you go with me? Will there again be sons in my womb, that they would be husbands for you? Turn back, my daughters. Go. I am too old for a husband. If I were to say that I have hope, even if I had a husband tonight, and even more, if I were to bear sons— would you wait until they grew up? Would you refrain from having a husband? No, my daughters. This is more bitter for me than for you, since the Lord’s will has come out against me.”

Then they lifted up their voices and wept again. Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth stayed with her. Naomi said, “Look, your sister-in-law is returning to her people and to her gods. Turn back after your sister-in-law.”

But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to abandon you, to turn back from following after you. Wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord do this to me and more so if even death separates me from you.”  --Ruth 1:1-17 (CEB)

Today, we read only a portion of the story of Ruth. Ruth is only one of two women with an entire book in scripture that is dedicated to telling her story. Who knows the other book? Yes, it’s the book of Esther. Esther is a Jewish queen. Ruth is neither Jewish. And, she is definitely not royalty. Yet, she is one of only four women who are named in Jesus’ genealogy, or history. Our key verses today are from chapter one. The book of Ruth is only four chapters long and it’s a great story. So, when you get home today, I encourage you to read the rest of Ruth.

There are many different approaches that we might make to today’s story. As it opens, we hear that there is a famine in Bethlehem. The irony here is that Bethlehem means “House of Bread.” The “House of Bread” is now empty. And Elimelech, our opening character, and his wife, Naomi,  Naomi, and their two sons, Mahlon and Chilion, must leave Judah, their home country and travel to Moab, another country, for food. So, one approach to today’s story might be that of food insecurity. Something that we, here, at Grace & Glory seek to address every week. 

Another approach might be related to the relationship between nations. Because the history between Moab and Judah is complex. Isn’t that something we see and understand, especially, as we grow older. That relationships between nations, as between people, are not simple. Or black and white. But, that they are filled with complexity. Moab and Judah are cousins. The Moabites are descendents of Lot, Abraham’s nephew. They are family. And, yet, there is a long history between them. Warning made to Israel that the women of Moab are seductive and will seduce Israelite men away from God. It’s this belief that eventually results in a law that forbids Moabites from entering Israel’s religious assemblies to the tenth generation. Yet, they are family, albeit, the black sheep of the family. 

To approach from this angle would also work, especially given the news stories this week of the situation at the Turkish and Syrian borders and the long, historic relationship between the Kurds and the Turks - a relationship fraught with complexity.

A third angle, or approach, might be that of immigration. Elimelech and Naomi and their sons are refugees from famine. Traveling to another country for food - a country that might not welcome them wholeheartedly and, in fact, a country that might reject them. That might shame them. Simply for seeking security for their family.

How appropriate this approach might be for us today, when the number of refugees in our world has surpassed the numbers from the time of the second world war and as our own country has continued to reduce the number of refugees it is accepting annually. To be an immigrant in our world today means to be without a country. Rejected. Isolated. Insecure.

A fourth approach (Who knew there could be so many ways to approach this story??) - a fourth approach, might be that of women. And, particularly, the role of women in a patriarchal society. Where one is considered property. Devalued. Not only for one’s ideas or opinions, but even for one’s body. Which doesn’t even belong to oneself. In our #MeToo era, this, too, would be a valid approach.

There are even more approaches. There is loss. The loss Naomi experienced with not only the death of her husband, but of both her sons. And the insecurity that resulted for her. And her daughters-in-law. Related to this is the issue of infertility - that after ten years of marriage, neither of her sons and their wives have had children. And so, there is also loss her. The loss of hope. And as a congregation that has had members experience much loss this year, this, too, would be an appropriate approach.

But, there is one approach that I will call an “umbrella approach.” You know when you open an umbrella and it covers everyone under it, this approach is like that. Because it is an overriding theme that we hear and experience throughout this complex story with so many different themes and approaches running through it.

That umbrella approach is connected to the Hebrew word hesed. We’ve heard that word before. It’s hard to define for us in English. It means “steadfast love” or “loving kindness.” In the Septuagint, which is the original Greek Bible translated from the Hebrew, the Greek word used for the Hebrew word hesed is the word we translate into English as grace. Normally, hesed is attributed to God. It’s a word used hundreds of times in the psalms to describe a God who is faithful. And loving. A God who shows a kind of covenantal love. The same kind of love that we see in the marriage covenant. A love that hangs in. Through the thick and the thin. The until “death do us part” kind of love. That kind of love. It is true that hesed describes the love and faithfulness of our God. The hesed that God continually shows to God’s people. To us.

Yet, in this small story in scripture, the hesed shown is that by Ruth toward Naomi. Ruth, who makes a choice to remain with her mother-in-law, instead of returning to her own mother. Who, then, returns with her mother-in-law back to Naomi’s home village, to her home country. Ruth, who is now the foreigner. Who is willing to risk everything - her family, her country, perhaps even her life - to show love and faithfulness - hesed - to Naomi, her mother-in-law.  

Because, you see, hesed is not just an adjective. Hesed is not just about an emotion. Like the Hebrew word shema last week, hesed is also a verb. It’s about action. About putting love into action. Whether it is to feed the hungry, to make peace between nations, to care for the immigrant, to lift up women and others who for way too long have been treated as “other,” or to simply be with and accompany those who have experienced deep loss, to show hesed is to show love in action. 

This is who we are to be. Because this is whose we are. 

We love because God first loved us. Amen.

Preached October 12, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY
Pentecost 18
Readings: Mark 3:33-35, Psalm 126, Ruth 1:1-17

Responding to God's Love: It's All About Love

Sh’ma, Yisrael! Adonai elohenu, Adonai ehad! Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord alone. Amen.

We have come far from last week’s story of Moses’ call to deliver Israel from bondage and slavery in Egypt to freedom. Through the plagues, through the night of the first Passover, through the parting of the Red Sea, to Mount Sinai, the Ten Commandments, and the covenant. To the sin of Israel even before Moses had come down off the mountain, then the forty years of wandering in the wilderness. We have come far from last week’s story. To the book of Deuteronomy.

Israel is poised on the east bank of the Jordan, eagerly waiting to cross over into the promised land. It’s a new generation of people. To prepare them to enter, Moses reviews what has happened over these past forty years. We hear his story. Just as we heard Lana’s story last week, we now hear Moses’ story - Moses’ interpretation - of these forty years in the wilderness. 

And so, as part of his review, we come to our readings for today. First, from Deuteronomy 5. 

Moses called out to all Israel, saying to them: “Israel! Listen to the regulations and the case laws that I’m recounting in your hearing right now. Learn them and carefully do them. The Lord our God made a covenant with us at Mount Horeb. The Lord didn’t make this covenant with our ancestors but with us—all of us who are here and alive right now. The Lord spoke with you face-to-face on the mountain from the very fire itself. At that time, I was standing between the Lord and you, declaring to you the Lord’s word, because you were terrified of the fire and didn’t go up on the mountain.”

The Lord said:

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

You must have no other gods before me. Do not make an idol for yourself—no form whatsoever—of anything in the sky above or on the earth below or in the waters under the earth. Do not bow down to them or worship them because I, the Lord your God, am a passionate God. I punish children for their parents’ sins—even to the third and fourth generations of those who hate me. But I am loyal and gracious to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments.

Do not use the Lord your God’s name as if it were of no significance; the Lord won’t forgive anyone who uses his name that way.

Keep the Sabbath day and treat it as holy, exactly as the Lord your God commanded: Six days you may work and do all your tasks, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. Don’t do any work on it—not you, your sons or daughters, your male or female servants, your oxen or donkeys or any of your animals, or the immigrant who is living among you—so that your male and female servants can rest just like you. Remember that you were a slave in Egypt, but the Lord your God brought you out of there with a strong hand and an outstretched arm. That’s why the Lord your God commands you to keep the Sabbath day.

Honor your father and your mother, exactly as the Lord your God requires, so that your life will be long and so that things will go well for you on the fertile land that the Lord your God is giving you.

Do not kill.

Do not commit adultery.

Do not steal.

Do not testify falsely against your neighbor.

Do not desire and try to take your neighbor’s wife.

Do not crave your neighbor’s house, field, male or female servant, ox, donkey, or anything else that belongs to your neighbor.  --Deuteronomy 5:1-21 (CEB)

This recounting by Moses of the law received at Sinai is the second iteration of the Ten Commandments. Between then and now there has been a span of forty years. And the death of a generation - of the first generation to experience freedom. Not allowed to enter the promised land because of their rebellion and disbelief, even though they were eyewitnesses to the mighty acts of God. 

With this retelling of the story, Moses brings the new generation right back to Sinai. To that first giving of the law. Remembering his anger. How, as he came down the mountain with the stone tablets God had given him, he saw the first generation. Dancing around the golden calf - an idol. Already forgetting their covenant with God. It was then that he angrily threw down the tablets and watched them shatter into pieces.

Moses remembers. And he is helping this new generation remember. 

There’s something in his opening remarks that’s very interesting. In verse 3, Moses says to this new generation: “The Lord didn't make this covenant with our ancestors but with us - all of us who are here and alive right now.” That’s actually not true, is it? Because this new generation was not actually present at Sinai. But, Moses’ concern here isn’t history. (It’s the mistake we make when we think of scripture as a history or a science book.) Moses’ concern here is a deeper truth. A story of transformation. In making this statement, Moses is seeking a renewal of this generation’s commitment - of this generation’s covenant with God. Just like we do every time we celebrate baptism, or give thanks for our baptisms, or confess our sins. We, too, are renewing our promise - our covenant - with God. 

Each generation is called upon to enter anew in the covenant that God first made with Israel at Sinai. “All of us who are here and alive right now” are called to enter in and to recommit. We are once again invited into the story of God and Israel, of Christ and the church, of God and our own story. Each one of us. Just as the new generation of Israelites was as they paused to enter the promised land. 

And, so, Moses begins with the first commandment. “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.”

Do you notice the gift in this first commandment? We so often view the ten commandments as burden. As rule. As a weight that sits on our shoulders, pulling us down in shame. Yet, they are not a burden, but a witness to a relationship with God. Given to Israel and to us in the context of a relationship. “I am the Lord, YOUR God.” It is out of this loving relationship that the rest of the commandments flow. But, that’s not all. Because, if we read this first commandment carefully, we notice that it isn’t the law that comes first, but a gift. The gift comes before the law. Or in Lutheran terms, the gospel comes before the law here. The relationship begins with an act of deliverance. With freedom. But, what does this freedom look like?

The commandments are intended to form life-giving community compared to the exploitative economy of pharaoh. Having other gods isn’t freedom, but bondage. Working seven days a week isn’t freedom, but bondage. Hurting others isn’t freedom, but bondage.  And on and on. 

These commandments are the boundaries that allow life to flourish. Life with God and with neighbor. Life where everyone can experience freedom. Where no one is exploited. A life that is in sharp contrast to the life that the pharaoh gives - that the world gives. Where there is fear of others, a sense of scarcity and of lack of resources, anxiety, division, brokenness, bondage. This is not the life God desires for Israel. This is not the life God desires for us.

This is why God gives Israel - and us - these commandments. To shape and to form life-giving and loving relationships with God and with neighbor. Because it is all about love.

But, there’s a second part to our readings today. We continue in chapter 6. 

Israel, listen! Our God is the Lord! Only the Lord!

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your being, and all your strength. These words that I am commanding you today must always be on your minds. Recite them to your children. Talk about them when you are sitting around your house and when you are out and about, when you are lying down and when you are getting up. Tie them on your hand as a sign. They should be on your forehead as a symbol. Write them on your house’s doorframes and on your city’s gates.  --Deuteronomy 6:4-9 (CEB)

These words in Deuteronomy 6 are central to Jewish theology and practice. Twice a day - morning and evening - they are recited. Deeply embedded in the hearts of all Jews, part of who they are. When asked what is the greatest commandment, any Jewish person would recite these words, known as the shema. It is the shema that Jesus - a Jew - recites when asked which of the commandments is the most important. Shema is the first word in this passage in Hebrew. Shema meaning “hear.” Or “listen.”  

The shema is an affirmation of our oneness with God and of God’s sovereignty. Of a God who has delivered Israel  from bondage into freedom. The shema - like the commandments - is all about love. About the unbelievable love that God first showed. How God brought Israel out of slavery. How God, in Christ, has brought us out of slavery. Because. Of. Love.

But, it doesn’t end there. Because, for the Jews, the shema isn’t only about listening to God.  In Hebrew, the shema is always connected to action. It’s like when you hear your parent tell you to do something and, then, you do it. To “hear” in Hebrew is to act. To “shema” is to act. There's no disconnect between the hearing and the doing.  

So, when we hear of God’s unfathomable love for us, our response is to act. In love. To God. And to our neighbor. Particularly, to our neighbor who does not look like us, or act like us, or live like us. We are called to respond with our whole being in love to neighbor and to all creation. Or in the most simple words most of us likely learned as children, “We love because God first loved us.”

Because, in the end, that’s what this is all about. Love.

Amen.

Preached October 6, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY

Pentecost 17

Readings: Deuteronomy 5:1-21, 6:4-9; Mark 12:28-31