Godly women
Commentary
The Bible, we know, is mostly about men. But today the focus is on women, godly women who struggle to trust God and do what is right in a man's world.
Specifically, the First Lesson and the Gospel reading tell stories of widows. The alternative Old Testament lesson used in some churches is yet another story about a widow. Widows seem to have been quite numerous in the biblical world, and this was no doubt due to the failings of its social system. Men usually did not marry until they were financially secure; women were expected to marry as soon as they were sexually fertile. Thus, unions between older men and very young women were common. We almost never hear of widowers.
Opportunities for women to achieve financial independence were scarce. When all went well, widows would have children to provide for them after their husbands were gone. But of course things often did not go well, and for hundreds of years prophets and preachers had to address this situation. What is remarkable about the two lessons chosen for today is that they do not present widows as "social problems" but as strong figures who act in ways that we might emulate. This may fall under the general category of what has come to be called "the pedagogy of the oppressed." These widows are not so much people who need our help, but people whose help we need, if we are to be what we ought to be.
The Second Lesson pursues a course of its own and cannot really be related to the other two.
Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17
The book of Ruth is often popular in our era because it seems to deal with romance, to tell of a young woman who finds her true love and lives happily ever after. But apart from the Song of Solomon, the Bible does not much favor romantic love, and when Ruth is read at that level, it is likely to disappoint.
Sensitive modern readers often see the story as a quest for justice. Ruth is a powerless person who must induce Boaz to do what we ought to do anyway. The fact that she must make herself sexually appealing to him before he will "redeem" her is seen as demeaning and a sad testimony to the plight of women in a man's world. Ruth is often described as a counterpart to Tamar in Genesis 38, a woman who must essentially prostitute herself to find justice.
This interpretation can be too hard on poor Boaz. He is presented as a good man, willing to do what God wants. The entire world of the story is, of course, incredibly patriarchal. For example, Ruth, Boaz, and Naomi all accept the cultural norm that regards the failure to produce children (especially sons) as the ultimate disgrace for a woman. Within this environment, Boaz is like many men today, favoring justice but not always able to see what that entails. He must be awakened to his responsibility.
More to the point for this day, the book is the story of two widows who behave rather differently from the widow in our Gospel lesson. They share with that woman an abiding trust in God, but in this case such trust is not compromised by taking matters into their own hands and strategizing to improve their lot through very worldly means.
The story almost focuses on Naomi more than on Ruth. It is her agenda to bring Ruth and Boaz together. In this regard, 4:17 is the most interesting verse in the book. After the plan succeeds, the couple bear a son, the women of the neighborhood say, "A son has been born to Naomi!" Normally, in this culture, one would say "to Boaz" or, at least, "to Ruth." Why Naomi? Note that it is the women of the neighborhood who say this. Do they know something that men do not?
Theologically, the whole point of the book of Ruth is that God was working through some exceptional circumstances to establish the messianic line of David (4:18-22) -- and of Jesus (Matthew 1:5). Ruth and Boaz are somewhat unwitting players in this divine plan. They try as best they can to discern what is right and then to do it, without necessarily realizing that they are part of something bigger. Naomi, then, is the executor of God's plan. Like the (male) prophets in the Bible, she seeks to bring about the will of God in ways that ultimately surpass her own level of understanding.
Hebrews 9:24-28
The author of Hebrews presents the Christ event as the reality for which religious rituals are but copies. What God did in Jesus Christ is "the real thing." Here on earth we have handmade sanctuaries where priests may offer sacrifices, but Christ entered heaven itself, the true realm of God's presence, to appear on our behalf.
This imagery assumes knowledge of the Temple in Jerusalem and of the "holy of holies" that was its most sacred spot. This area of the Temple could be entered only by the High Priest, and only once a year, when that priest would offer a sacrifice for atonement of the people's sins. God was said to dwell in this room. Indeed, to reinforce that thought, the curtain that separated the holy of holies from the congregation was embroidered with a tapestry of the starry heavens. Common people were accustomed then, as now, to looking up at the sky and saying, "God is up there, removed from us by only the firmament of the heavens." So, too, they could look at the curtain and think, "God is there, on the other side of that veil."
Before the Temple was destroyed in 70 C.E., the Roman general is said to have ridden his horse into the holy of holies, torn down the curtain and exposed the myth. There was no god there, not even a respectable idol. We are reminded of the Soviet cosmonaut who mocked American Christianity by claiming he didn't see God anywhere on his trip beyond the atmosphere.
Hebrews wants to instill a confidence in God's accessibility that goes beyond the need to locate God in heaven or earth, but the verses do not swell to this accord until next week's lesson. For now, the point is simply that Christ's sacrifice for us is a reality that transcends our ability to symbolize it in language, ritual, or architecture. It happened and, just as surely, he will come again.
Why? Not to deal with sin, as most suppose, for that has been done. Humans die and then face judgment. Everyone knows that, the author of this book assumes. But Christ dies, and then delivers from judgment. Not everyone knows this. Those who do know this wait eagerly for his return, for they know they will be saved.
Mark 12:38-44
Anyone who reads around in commentaries will discover that the traditional interpretation of this story has been challenged of late. For ages the tale of "the widow's mite" has been taken as illustrating the ideal response to God: total commitment as opposed to token offerings (the story inspired the hymn "Take My Life That I May Be"). But recently, many scholars have suggested that the widow is actually a bad example of someone who foolishly (though innocently) gives everything she has to a corrupt religious institution. This interpretation points out that Jesus has just castigated the Temple as "a den of robbers" (11:17) and described the scribes as persons who "devour widows' houses" (12:40). Thus, he points this widow out to his disciples as an illustration not of good stewardship but of bad religion. She is to be pitied, not copied. If this interpretation is true, then our old sermons that proclaimed, "Everyone should be like this poor widow!" were very much off target. We must apologize to our congregations and say, "No, actually, no one should ever be like this poor widow!"
But I don't think the new interpretation holds. For one thing, Mark's gospel does not present women as victims so much as it presents them as agents of revelation. With the exception of Herodias and Salome, women in this book always understand the will of God better than men. Indeed, at the end of this book (16:8), the entire future of the church depends on whether women will be bold enough to proclaim what they know and whether men will be able to accept their proclamation.
There is a pattern of stories in Mark in which mysterious, unnamed women appear on the scene, do or say something revelatory of the true will of God, and then are gone (see 7:24-30; 14:3-9). This story is best understood along the same lines. Obviously, Jesus' praise for the widow's commitment does not imply approval of the social conditions responsible for her poverty. Still, the widow illustrateswhat Jesus has been saying all along: discipleship means giving one's very life to God (8:34-35).
FIRST LESSON FOCUSBy Elizabeth Achtemeier
Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17
For all of its narrative simplicity, the Book of Ruth is a complicated document, parts of which may be difficult for a modern congregation to understand. It involves two ancient Israelite laws -- the law of levirate marriage, found in Deuteronomy 25:5-10, and the law of redemption, found in Leviticus 25:25-28.
According to the former, when a man died without leaving a male heir to carry on his name and thus to give him the only form of immortality known in ancient Israel, the deceased's brother was to take the woman as his wife and give her a son. The story of Ruth applies that law not only to a brother but to the nearest relative, as does also Genesis 38.
According to the law of redemption, if a man became poor and could not buy back, i.e. redeem, a piece of property that he had sold, again the nearest relative was obligated to redeem the field for him. That law makes no mention of including a wife in the redemption, however, so that Ruth 4:5 and 10 extend the legal requirement.
The strange custom of giving one's shoe to the buyer as a sign of transfer of ownership, as in 4:7-8, is echoed in Psalm 60:8.
All of these practices are foreign to us, and will need to be explained in any sermon. And certainly the whole story from the book will need to be presented in order for the congregation to make sense of 3:1-5 and 4:13-17.
We are seemingly presented in this charming tale of a Moabite woman and her mother-in-law with a number of interpretive possibilities, and we need to ask: what is Ruth principally about? Certainly some preachers are tempted to turn it into a moral story and to show how Ruth's goodness is rewarded, just as they are tempted also to use the lection in Mark 12:41-44 in that fashion, speaking of the reward that the poor widow will have for giving her all to the temple treasury. Ruth is a highly exemplary character, is she not? A "woman of worth," Boaz calls her (3:11). She shows unstinting loyalty to Naomi, facing the unknown future with great courage and determination. She is a diligent worker, whose hard work at the difficult task of gleaning earns her the admiration and protection of Boaz. She is humble, willing to follow the instructions of her mother-in-law (3:5, 18), a willingness not often found these days in our households. And she makes no pretense to be more than she is when confronted by Boaz (2:10, 13). As a result, she is richly rewarded in the story, being given not only food but also a husband and a son. Is this not a tale told to show that goodness will always receive its reward?
Other interpreters might say that the story shows that God's kindness and acceptance are not limited to his chosen people. Ruth is a Moabite, a foreigner outside of God's covenant people. So it is not only church people who win God's favor. God accepts the outsiders, too. Did not Jesus say, "I have other sheep, that are not of this fold" (John 10:16)? So that is a lesson against all of the self-righteousness and claims to privilege of us churchgoers. God doesn't just love us. He loves all people, and we are required to love them, too. Many sermons have taken such a shape.
It is doubtful, however, that such sermonizing gets at the heart of the story of Ruth, for the main character in this tale is neither Ruth nor Naomi but God.
Seemingly all of the events in this story take place by chance. Ruth "happened to come to the part of the field belonging to Boaz" (2:3), says our text. It happens that Boaz turns out to be a relative of Naomi (2:20). And it seems to be luck that the nearest relative, who has the right of redemption and of levirate marriage, does not wish to marry Ruth, lest he imperil his own son's inheritance (4:6).
The fact is, however, that nothing happens by luck or chance in this narrative. Throughout, it is permeated with the understanding that God has directed every event. It is the Almighty who has brought calamity upon her, declares Naomi (1:20-21). It is the Lord whose "kindness has not forsaken the living or the dead," she later exclaims (2:20). And finally it is the Lord who enables Ruth to conceive in order that she may bear a son (4:13). Through all of these chance happenings, the writer of this story wants us to know that God has been silently at work, shaping the course of events until his purpose is fulfilled.
What is his purpose? Verse 17 in chapter 4 gives the answer. Naomi's grandson Obed, who is born to Ruth, is the father of Jesse, who is the father of David. Through all of the turns and twists of this history, an unseen God has worked to bring about the birth of Israel's greatest king -- that king who becomes the recipient of the promise that there will never be lacking an heir to sit upon his throne (2 Samuel 7). That promise forms the basis of Israel's expectation of a davidic Messiah, and the whole Christian Church rests on the fact that Jesus of Nazareth is that Messiah. How far back in the ages stretches God's working toward our salvation!
Presented with such a testimony to the actions of God, perhaps we should also consider that the same God is at work in the same way in our lives also -- hidden, silent, unknown to our senses, and yet continually at work to fulfill his good purpose. Very often the events of our lives fail to make any sense. Very often we have no idea how our future will turn out. Very often we think that God is absent from our days. But, says the Book of Ruth, God is never absent. He is with us, according to his promise, working steadily and silently to bring us to his goal for our living. As the apostle Paul once put it, "I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion in the day of Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:6). In that certainty, we can rejoice.
Specifically, the First Lesson and the Gospel reading tell stories of widows. The alternative Old Testament lesson used in some churches is yet another story about a widow. Widows seem to have been quite numerous in the biblical world, and this was no doubt due to the failings of its social system. Men usually did not marry until they were financially secure; women were expected to marry as soon as they were sexually fertile. Thus, unions between older men and very young women were common. We almost never hear of widowers.
Opportunities for women to achieve financial independence were scarce. When all went well, widows would have children to provide for them after their husbands were gone. But of course things often did not go well, and for hundreds of years prophets and preachers had to address this situation. What is remarkable about the two lessons chosen for today is that they do not present widows as "social problems" but as strong figures who act in ways that we might emulate. This may fall under the general category of what has come to be called "the pedagogy of the oppressed." These widows are not so much people who need our help, but people whose help we need, if we are to be what we ought to be.
The Second Lesson pursues a course of its own and cannot really be related to the other two.
Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17
The book of Ruth is often popular in our era because it seems to deal with romance, to tell of a young woman who finds her true love and lives happily ever after. But apart from the Song of Solomon, the Bible does not much favor romantic love, and when Ruth is read at that level, it is likely to disappoint.
Sensitive modern readers often see the story as a quest for justice. Ruth is a powerless person who must induce Boaz to do what we ought to do anyway. The fact that she must make herself sexually appealing to him before he will "redeem" her is seen as demeaning and a sad testimony to the plight of women in a man's world. Ruth is often described as a counterpart to Tamar in Genesis 38, a woman who must essentially prostitute herself to find justice.
This interpretation can be too hard on poor Boaz. He is presented as a good man, willing to do what God wants. The entire world of the story is, of course, incredibly patriarchal. For example, Ruth, Boaz, and Naomi all accept the cultural norm that regards the failure to produce children (especially sons) as the ultimate disgrace for a woman. Within this environment, Boaz is like many men today, favoring justice but not always able to see what that entails. He must be awakened to his responsibility.
More to the point for this day, the book is the story of two widows who behave rather differently from the widow in our Gospel lesson. They share with that woman an abiding trust in God, but in this case such trust is not compromised by taking matters into their own hands and strategizing to improve their lot through very worldly means.
The story almost focuses on Naomi more than on Ruth. It is her agenda to bring Ruth and Boaz together. In this regard, 4:17 is the most interesting verse in the book. After the plan succeeds, the couple bear a son, the women of the neighborhood say, "A son has been born to Naomi!" Normally, in this culture, one would say "to Boaz" or, at least, "to Ruth." Why Naomi? Note that it is the women of the neighborhood who say this. Do they know something that men do not?
Theologically, the whole point of the book of Ruth is that God was working through some exceptional circumstances to establish the messianic line of David (4:18-22) -- and of Jesus (Matthew 1:5). Ruth and Boaz are somewhat unwitting players in this divine plan. They try as best they can to discern what is right and then to do it, without necessarily realizing that they are part of something bigger. Naomi, then, is the executor of God's plan. Like the (male) prophets in the Bible, she seeks to bring about the will of God in ways that ultimately surpass her own level of understanding.
Hebrews 9:24-28
The author of Hebrews presents the Christ event as the reality for which religious rituals are but copies. What God did in Jesus Christ is "the real thing." Here on earth we have handmade sanctuaries where priests may offer sacrifices, but Christ entered heaven itself, the true realm of God's presence, to appear on our behalf.
This imagery assumes knowledge of the Temple in Jerusalem and of the "holy of holies" that was its most sacred spot. This area of the Temple could be entered only by the High Priest, and only once a year, when that priest would offer a sacrifice for atonement of the people's sins. God was said to dwell in this room. Indeed, to reinforce that thought, the curtain that separated the holy of holies from the congregation was embroidered with a tapestry of the starry heavens. Common people were accustomed then, as now, to looking up at the sky and saying, "God is up there, removed from us by only the firmament of the heavens." So, too, they could look at the curtain and think, "God is there, on the other side of that veil."
Before the Temple was destroyed in 70 C.E., the Roman general is said to have ridden his horse into the holy of holies, torn down the curtain and exposed the myth. There was no god there, not even a respectable idol. We are reminded of the Soviet cosmonaut who mocked American Christianity by claiming he didn't see God anywhere on his trip beyond the atmosphere.
Hebrews wants to instill a confidence in God's accessibility that goes beyond the need to locate God in heaven or earth, but the verses do not swell to this accord until next week's lesson. For now, the point is simply that Christ's sacrifice for us is a reality that transcends our ability to symbolize it in language, ritual, or architecture. It happened and, just as surely, he will come again.
Why? Not to deal with sin, as most suppose, for that has been done. Humans die and then face judgment. Everyone knows that, the author of this book assumes. But Christ dies, and then delivers from judgment. Not everyone knows this. Those who do know this wait eagerly for his return, for they know they will be saved.
Mark 12:38-44
Anyone who reads around in commentaries will discover that the traditional interpretation of this story has been challenged of late. For ages the tale of "the widow's mite" has been taken as illustrating the ideal response to God: total commitment as opposed to token offerings (the story inspired the hymn "Take My Life That I May Be"). But recently, many scholars have suggested that the widow is actually a bad example of someone who foolishly (though innocently) gives everything she has to a corrupt religious institution. This interpretation points out that Jesus has just castigated the Temple as "a den of robbers" (11:17) and described the scribes as persons who "devour widows' houses" (12:40). Thus, he points this widow out to his disciples as an illustration not of good stewardship but of bad religion. She is to be pitied, not copied. If this interpretation is true, then our old sermons that proclaimed, "Everyone should be like this poor widow!" were very much off target. We must apologize to our congregations and say, "No, actually, no one should ever be like this poor widow!"
But I don't think the new interpretation holds. For one thing, Mark's gospel does not present women as victims so much as it presents them as agents of revelation. With the exception of Herodias and Salome, women in this book always understand the will of God better than men. Indeed, at the end of this book (16:8), the entire future of the church depends on whether women will be bold enough to proclaim what they know and whether men will be able to accept their proclamation.
There is a pattern of stories in Mark in which mysterious, unnamed women appear on the scene, do or say something revelatory of the true will of God, and then are gone (see 7:24-30; 14:3-9). This story is best understood along the same lines. Obviously, Jesus' praise for the widow's commitment does not imply approval of the social conditions responsible for her poverty. Still, the widow illustrateswhat Jesus has been saying all along: discipleship means giving one's very life to God (8:34-35).
FIRST LESSON FOCUSBy Elizabeth Achtemeier
Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17
For all of its narrative simplicity, the Book of Ruth is a complicated document, parts of which may be difficult for a modern congregation to understand. It involves two ancient Israelite laws -- the law of levirate marriage, found in Deuteronomy 25:5-10, and the law of redemption, found in Leviticus 25:25-28.
According to the former, when a man died without leaving a male heir to carry on his name and thus to give him the only form of immortality known in ancient Israel, the deceased's brother was to take the woman as his wife and give her a son. The story of Ruth applies that law not only to a brother but to the nearest relative, as does also Genesis 38.
According to the law of redemption, if a man became poor and could not buy back, i.e. redeem, a piece of property that he had sold, again the nearest relative was obligated to redeem the field for him. That law makes no mention of including a wife in the redemption, however, so that Ruth 4:5 and 10 extend the legal requirement.
The strange custom of giving one's shoe to the buyer as a sign of transfer of ownership, as in 4:7-8, is echoed in Psalm 60:8.
All of these practices are foreign to us, and will need to be explained in any sermon. And certainly the whole story from the book will need to be presented in order for the congregation to make sense of 3:1-5 and 4:13-17.
We are seemingly presented in this charming tale of a Moabite woman and her mother-in-law with a number of interpretive possibilities, and we need to ask: what is Ruth principally about? Certainly some preachers are tempted to turn it into a moral story and to show how Ruth's goodness is rewarded, just as they are tempted also to use the lection in Mark 12:41-44 in that fashion, speaking of the reward that the poor widow will have for giving her all to the temple treasury. Ruth is a highly exemplary character, is she not? A "woman of worth," Boaz calls her (3:11). She shows unstinting loyalty to Naomi, facing the unknown future with great courage and determination. She is a diligent worker, whose hard work at the difficult task of gleaning earns her the admiration and protection of Boaz. She is humble, willing to follow the instructions of her mother-in-law (3:5, 18), a willingness not often found these days in our households. And she makes no pretense to be more than she is when confronted by Boaz (2:10, 13). As a result, she is richly rewarded in the story, being given not only food but also a husband and a son. Is this not a tale told to show that goodness will always receive its reward?
Other interpreters might say that the story shows that God's kindness and acceptance are not limited to his chosen people. Ruth is a Moabite, a foreigner outside of God's covenant people. So it is not only church people who win God's favor. God accepts the outsiders, too. Did not Jesus say, "I have other sheep, that are not of this fold" (John 10:16)? So that is a lesson against all of the self-righteousness and claims to privilege of us churchgoers. God doesn't just love us. He loves all people, and we are required to love them, too. Many sermons have taken such a shape.
It is doubtful, however, that such sermonizing gets at the heart of the story of Ruth, for the main character in this tale is neither Ruth nor Naomi but God.
Seemingly all of the events in this story take place by chance. Ruth "happened to come to the part of the field belonging to Boaz" (2:3), says our text. It happens that Boaz turns out to be a relative of Naomi (2:20). And it seems to be luck that the nearest relative, who has the right of redemption and of levirate marriage, does not wish to marry Ruth, lest he imperil his own son's inheritance (4:6).
The fact is, however, that nothing happens by luck or chance in this narrative. Throughout, it is permeated with the understanding that God has directed every event. It is the Almighty who has brought calamity upon her, declares Naomi (1:20-21). It is the Lord whose "kindness has not forsaken the living or the dead," she later exclaims (2:20). And finally it is the Lord who enables Ruth to conceive in order that she may bear a son (4:13). Through all of these chance happenings, the writer of this story wants us to know that God has been silently at work, shaping the course of events until his purpose is fulfilled.
What is his purpose? Verse 17 in chapter 4 gives the answer. Naomi's grandson Obed, who is born to Ruth, is the father of Jesse, who is the father of David. Through all of the turns and twists of this history, an unseen God has worked to bring about the birth of Israel's greatest king -- that king who becomes the recipient of the promise that there will never be lacking an heir to sit upon his throne (2 Samuel 7). That promise forms the basis of Israel's expectation of a davidic Messiah, and the whole Christian Church rests on the fact that Jesus of Nazareth is that Messiah. How far back in the ages stretches God's working toward our salvation!
Presented with such a testimony to the actions of God, perhaps we should also consider that the same God is at work in the same way in our lives also -- hidden, silent, unknown to our senses, and yet continually at work to fulfill his good purpose. Very often the events of our lives fail to make any sense. Very often we have no idea how our future will turn out. Very often we think that God is absent from our days. But, says the Book of Ruth, God is never absent. He is with us, according to his promise, working steadily and silently to bring us to his goal for our living. As the apostle Paul once put it, "I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion in the day of Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:6). In that certainty, we can rejoice.
