“Young, Widowed, Sisters-In-Law” based on Ruth 1

June 12, 2017February 15, 2020
by Sara Baron

Life didn’t go well for Naomi. I mean, it didn’t go terribly to begin with: she married, she had two sons. Compared to most heroines of the Bible, that’s saying something! She didn’t go through the long barren years we’re used to hearing about with the matriarchs.

We don’t know how her marriage was, but we usually don’t. She got married, she had two sons. All that is OK, good even. If feminine expectation was fulfilled in the procreation of sons, she was successful. Then there was a famine. For ancient Israel that really meant that there was a drought, and food couldn’t be grown. In response to that desperation, Naomi and family left their homeland and went in search of place where there was food.

They ended up in the land of Moab, east of the Dead Sea. The book of Genesis tells us that Moab was Lot’s son/grandson. I find it interesting that the Bible always identifies enemies as extended family. Throughout much of ancient Israelite history the Moabites were on the opposing sides of wars. Today the land that was called Moab is a part of the nation Jordan, and the boundary lines still run down the middle of the Dead Sea.

Naomi was a refugee, forced to leave her country because of lack of water. This was in the era before climate change, there are many more people in her situation today than there were then.

In ancient Israel, Naomi’s family had access to their own land. They were farmers. Things were so desperate that they left the land they had, that they freely owned, so that he could be a day laborer in a foreign land, because they thought it was more likely that they’d survive the lack of water THAT way. Since this story predates currency, I suspect they left their country without any wealth, with just the clothing on their back and maybe a few farm tools. They were desperate, hungry people, trying to survive when the land they lived in couldn’t provide for the people who lived on it.

It seems likely that they lived a live of poverty in Moab. It seems like there WAS enough food, or at least enough MORE food that it was worth stopping there. I’m not entirely convinced there was fully enough food, since we aren’t told how all the men die, and malnutrition is an open option. Ancient Israel had some laws in place to minimize the hunger of foreigners, but I don’t know if Moab did. Most likely Naomi’s husband and sons were day laborers, struggling to make enough for the family to eat day by day.

I point this out, in part, because I want to acknowledge that Ruth and Orpah were likely also from very poor families, because I can’t imagine that any family with any sustainable income would have married their daughters off to an impoverished refugee family. (This was not a time when marriages happened because of love.) And Ruth and Naomi WERE married into this family. They were also married into this NUCLEAR family, when that wasn’t the norm yet either, and when that would have been a reason to distrust the foreigners further.

Now, as we all know, poverty and wealth do not define happiness. There are very happy, healthy families who live in poverty and very sad, mad, and dysfunctional families who have great wealth. In fact, studies say that money only increases happiness when it makes the difference between being homeless and hungry and being terribly housed and having just enough to eat (even if it isn’t that good). After the point when there is housing and food, money doesn’t increase happiness. (Though I do wonder if it decreases stress.)

I’m proposing that Ruth and Orpah likely came from families in poverty. We don’t know if they came from healthy, happy, loving homes. They seem especially fond of Naomi and well bonded to her. It makes me wonder if she’d been kinder to them than others in their life had been.

On the other hand, perhaps they were just following convention. It is hard to know. The convention at that is defined by levirate marriage. That is, if a married man died before producing an heir, his brother would be responsible for marrying his wife and thereby producing the heir. With both brothers dead, this was a problem. The women were still bound to the family they’d married into, but no spouse was forthcoming. In those days the most vulnerable people in society were the ones who didn’t have a NATIVE male to take care of them, including by making a living. The Hebrew Bible of speaks of the vulnerable in society as the widows, orphans, and foreigners – with a note that an orphan was a person without a FATHER. These were the ones for whom special laws existed as protection. All groups of people without a native male who had power in the system and access to land in Israel.

These women qualified. All they had was each other, and none of them had a path to care for themselves much less the others.

Naomi frees the younger women from their bonds to her. I suspect that couldn’t really be done without a man doing it, so it sort of didn’t count, but they didn’t have any men around to do it. I wonder if her lack of authority in the system is part of why Ruth felt she had the freedom to disobey Naomi’s instructions.

In any case, both Ruth and Orpah, who made opposite decisions, were disobeying the rules of society. Society didn’t have a way to care for them at this level of brokenness. Oprah abandoned the family she’d married into. Ruth disobeyed her elder. They both broke the rules, because there wasn’t a way forward within the rules.

Naomi had one what was expected. She’d married and procreated, and then she’d gone with her family to seek enough food to survive, she’d grieved for her husband and children. Her choices were, seemingly, exhausted. Either she could stay in a foreign land with NO ONE to take care of her or she could go home and HOPE that someone still lived who might take responsibility for caring for her. Or, if not, she would at least die at home. She decided to go home.

That left her daughters-in-law to either abandon her (presumably the only family they still had from their so-called adulthood) or their country of origin and all they’d ever known. They seem to genuinely like, to want to stay with her. Maybe I’m missing cultural memos, but it FEELS like they want to stay with her. This mother-in-law had been good enough to them that they wanted to stay with her rather than return to their own mothers’ homes.

We don’t know why, and while I could project things, they wouldn’t be accurate. But they both said they wanted to go. It was only after Naomi pointed out that staying with her likely meant a life of barrenness without any hope for the future that Orpah reluctantly returned to her family of origin.

We don’t know what happened next for Orpah. She’s never mentioned again. I don’t think anyone would have had a way to know. Perhaps she returned to her mother’s house and quickly found a new husband and lived a pretty normal life. Perhaps she was tainted by her first marriage to a foreigner and lived and died a widow. Maybe life changed for her and she had a taste of existence beyond hard work and poverty, although it isn’t very likely. In that moment, standing on the road that returned Naomi to Judah, Orpah had no way of knowing how it would end either. She had two terrible choices before her and she picked one, hoping that it would work out.

So did Ruth. She decides to leave family, country, language, culture, and even her faith to follow her mother-in-law to a foreign land. I’ve often used this text at weddings because it comes from a woman freed to make her own choice, and in that freedom she chooses to bond her life to another’s.

“Where you go, I will go;
where you lodge, I will lodge;
your people shall be my people,
and your God my God.
17 Where you die, I will die—
there will I be buried.”

With the saying of those words her life changes. She becomes an immigrant, and enters Israel as a foreigner and a widow. She doesn’t have a reason to expect that she’ll find anything easier there, and many things will be harder. Yet, it seems clear, she genuinely loves Naomi and wants to spend her life bonded to Naomi’s life.

The book goes on to tell Ruth and Naomi’s story, and presents Ruth as a heroine and matriarch of the Davidic line. It seems to suggest that Ruth “choose correctly” but I don’t think that conclusion is sustained by the story. These three women were stuck without a clear way forward, with good reason to worry about how long they could live. Each made the best choice she could given the knowledge she had, and given the constraints of her world. I don’t think the story would have ended as well if all three went back to Israel, it would have been harder to feed three mouths. I don’t think it would have ended as well if only Naomi had returned home, I don’t think anyone would have noticed or cared about her. The story ends with a male relative noticing Ruth and deciding to care for them both. What happens when there isn’t one?

This story acknowledges the struggles of women without male support in patriarchal systems, it points out the vulnerability of women dependent on men, and makes clear that women end up making impossible decisions to survive – even ones others might want to judge. The story assumes that refugees and immigrants are more vulnerable than natives in their own lands. It also makes it clear that some people have WAY more power than others – that without a native male to care for them, the women had no legal recourse nor means of survival. The story also points out, clearly, that without water, people can’t survive. The changing weather patterns of the world are creating more and more Naomis.

The world today has more displaced people than it ever has before. Climate scientists tell us that this is a number that will keep rising. Until we can hear Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah’s stories as universal, we may miss the plight of many of God’s children. Can we imagine Naomi as a refugee from Yemen today, because of the drought there? Can we imagine Ruth walking “home” with Naomi across the desert to start a new life in a unfriendly foreign land? Can we hear in them refugees from Syria, Somalia, or South Sudan?

I suspect God can hear the echoes. This story speaks through the ages of the difficult choices vulnerable people, particularly refugees and immigrants, make to survive. It reminds us to pay attention to who in our society and world lack access to the means of survival and/or justice.

May we be brave enough to keep listening. Amen

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

Pronouns: she/her/hers

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 11, 2017

Sermons

“Displacement”based on Acts 9:1-20 and John 21:1-19

April 10, 2016February 15, 2020
by Sara Baron

Before Jesus called them, most of the disciples had been fisherman. It was their occupation. They supported their families by fishing. Likely it was their identity too. They were multi-generational fisherman. They were part of fishing families and fishing communities. (Don’t worry, I don’t intend to make a metaphor out of this.)

I suspect that the story we read from John today comes from different origins than the other Easter stories in John. It got edited in as the third appearance, but it works pretty well as a stand alone story, and it likely was one. Peter is presented as the natural leader. He says he wants to go fishing, and everyone else says they’ll go with him. It makes a lot of sense that fisherman born and bred would return to the Sea in the midst of turmoil when they didn’t know what else to do.

I don’t know enough about fishing the Sea of Tiberias to know if a night’s fishing being utterly unsuccessful was common, but I’m also not entirely sure that the disciples would have spent much of their energy trying to catch fish that night. It seems that the comfort may have been the familiarity of the surroundings and the nighttime freedom to talk or not as they wished. It was a good place to grieve.

Now the bit in the story about casting the nets “to the other side” and having fish essentially leap into them seems like it is set up for allegory, but I’m going to leave those be and simply point out that in that moment Jesus was recognized. In fact, John recognized Jesus, but Peter jumped out of the boat to swim to him. People are different, and have different skills and responses. One can figure out what is going on, another is quick to respond with joy.

I’ve been trying to figure out why Peter would get dressed and THEN jump into the water, when most people would do it the other way. I guessed maybe it was a sign of respect for Jesus, but I looked it up in the Jewish Annotated New Testament and all they had to say was, “It is odd that Peter dresses and then jumps into the sea.”¹

The best part of this story happens when they all get to shore. Jesus has made a fire and prepared some fish and bread, although he adds to the fire some of the fish they’d caught. In the Emmaus story, the disciples know Jesus in the breaking of the bread, but in this story they knew him in the abundance he provided of the fish. Yet the way that he shares the food still rings with celebration of communion. “Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.” (v. 13)

This is the first and only meal that it is said Jesus cooks. He makes them breakfast after they’ve been out on the water all night tending their souls. He provides for them when they need it most. It is an extraordinary little story in that way, Jesus is a bit more domestic than we otherwise see him. Before the resurrection he cared for people’s physical needs on a regular basis, but not as the cook. This is a bit earthier!

The story almost suggests that the disciples were silent through the meal, but we really don’t know. The sweet, strange story of the nets full of fish and breakfast waiting on the shore turns toward Peter giving him both an opportunity for forgiveness and a direction in life. Often this part of the story has gotten my fuller attention. Today I simply want to point out that the three questions seem likely to exist in order to erase the three denials that had earlier occurred. Secondly, the three questions have slightly different nuances, but they’re insignificant. Jesus instructs Peter to tend and feed the sheep and lambs as a response to Peter’s love for Jesus.

The work that had been Jesus’ is now passed on. In this case is is to Peter, but by extension to all of us. That’s the Easter story again, for those who are slow to pick up on it. At the end of this passage is a line I hadn’t really heard before. In the end of the conversation Jesus says to Peter, “Follow me.” I find the Gospel of John annoying at times, but it is also a work of brilliance. In John’s version of the call of the disciples, Jesus doesn’t call Peter! Peter’s brother Andrew started following Jesus and invited Peter to come along. Peter’s call to follow doesn’t happen until this conversation! It also become a call to all who hear – those who weren’t called in the beginning of the story are still called to follow by the end of it. Furthermore, the call to “follow” happens during the LAST vision of Jesus’ resurrection, in John. The following has to happen by the guidance of the Spirit and the capacity of the disciples to trust themselves to know what to do!

It has struck me this week how displacing all of this would have been for the disciples. They’d been displaced by choosing to travel with Jesus and had given up the lives they knew. Then they were displaced by the death of Jesus, and lost the life they’d come to know with him. That’s where we found them at the beginning of the story, trying to find their place again by returning to the lives they knew. Instead, by the end of today’s story all sense a security has been stripped from them. They are to continue the work of Jesus, but without Jesus. They are to upset the system of the Empire, without any promises of safety, and indeed Jesus points out that they too will suffer by tending and feeding the sheep and the lambs. The fishermen and their families from Galilee who wandered the Jewish countryside with Jesus end up settling in Jerusalem and leading the rest of the followers of The Way… lives still changed by the words “Follow me.”

I’m stuck as well that their lives moved from pretty “normal” to very abnormal. They were regular people, working hard to make their lives go as well as they could before they met Jesus. They were productive members of society, making money in one of the standard ways. They were contributing to society.

And then Jesus displaced them.

Just as Jesus didn’t work for money during his ministry, as far as I can tell, the apostles didn’t work for money again after his resurrection. They were so busy leading The Way, that they couldn’t. Other people’s offerings supported their lives.

Which is to say they “stopped” contributing to society. They were no longer productive workers. Isn’t that funny? The Protestant Work Ethic is a real thing, and in the USA many of us were practically suckled on it. Yet the followers of Jesus stepped out of the system of productivity in order to redistribute resources and teach another way. It is as if their lives were the Sabbath of the Hebrew Bible, a reminder that life is more than productivity and contributions to society, that we are made in the image of God, and we are whole already as we are. They began to live Sabbath – to focus on relationships and not on work. That’s some serious displacement.

There are rather amazing parallels between today’s Gospel lesson and the story of the conversion of Saul. For the first time, I noticed that the conversion wasn’t REALLY instantaneous, as I’ve often heard people describe it. Yes, he had an instant where he fell, and he became blind, and he had a conversation with Jesus (who was dead.) But he had the scales on his eyes for 3 days, while fasting, before Ananias comes to talk with him and they fall off. At that point he got baptized, but he was with the disciples for “several days” after that and THEN he began to preach about Jesus saying, “He is the Son of God.” (Which, just in case you didn’t know, was blaspheming the Emperor of the Roman Empire who claimed that particular title as one piece of his authority.)

Saul’s displacement happened in about a week. He thought he knew what his contribution to society was. In addition to making his living as a tent-maker (which he continued to do), his passion was caring for the faith by making sure that heresies and bad teaching didn’t take seed in the faith that formed his life. He was convinced that the followers of Jesus’ way were the problem, and he was willing to use his life to fix it – until this happened. Then he took his passion and conviction and used to FOR the good of The Way of Jesus.

Have you ever seen that video of a random person dancing to the beat of their own drum in random places? It ends up making the point that one person dancing is one person dancing! However, the moment a second person chooses to join in, the first time a follower joins in, it usually becomes a dance party. Sometimes it is one person who dances, sometimes it is hundreds, but the difference is not the first dancer – it is the second.

It is possible that Paul is the “second dancer” of The Way of Jesus. Jesus was the first dancer. He is the one who offered a new take on life and way to deny the powers of the world by focusing on the creative love of God. But Paul is the one who, by following, brought people along. I think the rest of the disciples would have continued to share the message and it would have mattered but only within Judaism. Paul was the one who took the message to the Gentiles, which is super ironic since he was the one who cared most about the faith of Judaism to begin with. He is also the one who pushes for full inclusion of Gentiles in The Way, without conversion to Judaism. Jesus may have founded a movement, but Paul made it popular.

Paul’s displacement pulled out of everything he cared about, including his own life, but gave him a way to change the history of the world. He did continue to make a living for himself, but his real contributions were in sharing a story he’d once found offensive enough to stop by any violent means necessary.

In seminary, as in much of Christianity, there was often a focus on stories of conversion. People talked about the rough lives they’d led, and when they’d connected with God anew, and how that had guided them to ministry. At times I’d get annoyed with the stories, but often I felt insufficient by not having a story of my own. I was raised in United Methodist Church that I loved, I went to church camp, I adored it, at 13 I first considered becoming a pastor, and I’d followed that path from that point on.

In class one day we were assigned to discuss something about conversion in a small group and my friend Andre, who had one of those“standard’ conversion stories offered me a great gift. He asked if I had been “converted” and I said no, and I think I hung my head in shame. We weren’t particularly close, but I think he’d listened to me very deeply to that point. He asked if there was a point in my life when I realized that although my life was good, not everyone else had it as easy. I looked up and said YES, and started telling the story of the first time I’d noticed. He smiled at me and said that I was one of the people with an inverted conversion story. My conversion was realizing how broken the world was and being moved to participate in healing it. Put another way, becoming aware of my privileges and that they weren’t shared was a form of conversion. That is a story that I’ve lived time and time again.

It has been displacement for me at times too. As it was for Peter, and for Paul, and as it has been for people who didn’t have a connection to the Divine and later found one. God messes things up. God displaces us so that we can be placed appropriately. And frankly, God seems to do it often. So the next time you are trying to contribute to the world and it all gets turned upside down, remember that God may be displacing you – for the sake of good. Amen

—

1 The Jewish Annotated New Testament: New Revised Standard Version Bible Translation, edited by Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011).

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

April 10, 2016