Good evening. My name is Naomi. You've probably already heard of my daughter-in-law Ruth, who has become very famous. But the story really began long before Ruth came on the scene. Before everything started to go wrong, my husband Elimelech and I lived in the city of Bethlehem in Judah. It had been about 200 years since Joshua had led the tribes into the land, and Bethlehem had become a very nice place to live, peaceful and prosperous. It's far enough south of the border not to be much troubled by the wars between Ephraim and Ammon, and it was far enough north to have plenty of rain for growing good crops. So we lived there, Elimelech and I, with our two sons, Mahlon and Chilion, and I thought there could be no life more contented and fulfilling than ours.
But then the crops failed. One year there wasn't enough rain, the next year the rain came at the wrong time, and the year after that the spring rains never came at all. We started a couple of business ventures, to try to keep our heads above water, but neither of them worked out and of course at the end we had used up almost all our savings. So Elimelech decided to use what little we had left to emigrate to Moab on the other side of the Salt Sea to start over. Their weather hadn't been as bad as ours, the economy was pretty healthy, and there were a lot of opportunities for a man who was willing to work hard.
It was difficult, of course, having to leave my friends and my cozy home where we'd all been so happy. And to go to Moab, of all places! There'd been bad blood between our people for generations, ever since Moses' day when Balaam tried to curse us and then they corrupted our young men with their horrible idol-worship. We weren't actually at war, of course, or Elimelech would never have taken us there, but everyone knew that Moabites were just terribly immoral and ungodly people. It was a terrific scandal. Several of my neighbors came by, they said to wish me luck, but the things they said about my Elimelech! He was too a good husband and provider. It wasn't his fault the crops failed; and what did they expect him to do? Sell himself, or me, or one of the boys into slavery? Would they have wanted their husbands to let them starve rather than to take a risk in a foreign land? I refused to listen to their reproaches, and tried to be just as optimistic and supportive as I could, so that Elimelech would know that we, at least, believed in him.
So we bundled up the few possessions we had left onto our shoulders and started to walk to Moab. It doesn't look very far on the map, but my word! Bethlehem is way up in the mountains, about 3,000 feet above the Middle Sea (what you call the Mediterranean) over on the west coast, and even farther above the Salt Sea, which we had to cross to get where we were going. And then Moab is just as high up as Bethlehem, so then we had to climb right back up again. We were lucky in one way, though; there had been so little rain that year that the Salt Sea was really low, and we could go right across, instead of going around the south end, through the desert.
And, well, to make a long story short, we bought a nice little business in the city of Ar, up here on the plains, and after a kind of rough start and some misunderstandings with our new neighbors, we started doing reasonably well. Mahlon and Chilion were turning into fine young men and were a great help to their father. But then one day Elimelech came in for the evening meal and just collapsed right there in front of the fire. He died before morning without saying a word. He was a good man, my Elimelech; I still miss him. But I had my two boys, and I knew they'd take good care of me.
I understand that in your day a woman can be head of a household, but that's not the way it was back then, especially outside of Israel. Only men had legal standing, which meant that a woman could only run a business or manage property under the protection of the head of her family. She couldn't just go out and get a job, either; the only choices a woman had, if she didn't have property to lease out or a family to protect her, were to sell herself into slavery or become a prostitute. And an old woman couldn't even do that. So I was really fortunate that God had given me two strong sons to depend upon.
They had both really taken to the life in Moab, and decided to settle down and take Moabite wives rather than go back to Judah when the drought finally broke and the famine ended. They were grown men by this time, so of course they had to make up their own minds about it, but I must say I didn't approve at all. While Elimelech was alive we had always followed YHWH, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob: we kept the law, and celebrated the Sabbath, and never ate the forbidden foods like oysters and pork. But the boys didn't seem to be really interested. They just went along because it was what we did as a family, and I was afraid that the women they married would try to bring their Moabite gods right into the house and worship them. So I called my sons and said to them, "My sons, you are grown men and I cannot tell you what to do. But I have a request to make of you. Out of respect for your father's memory, I ask that the women you marry refrain from bringing their gods into the house. I will say nothing against them if they go to their own temples to worship, but I ask that this house remain YHWH's. And I also ask that we may continue to celebrate the Sabbath t¬gether as long as I live." And they granted my request.
Chilion married a young woman named Orpah, and Mahlon chose one named Ruth. The bride prices were pretty high, to make up for the fact that we were foreigners, but they took out a loan with the business as security, and pretty soon I had two nice young daughters-in-law to help me in the house and be company during the day. It had been pretty lonely since Elimelech had died, because of course the boys had their own friends, and I never really got used to the Moabite women and their ways. But Orpah and Ruth were both very nice, hard-working and affectionate and respectful. I really enjoyed having them in the house. And of course there were the grandchildren to look forward to. I had such plans! But then both Mahlon and Chilion caught a chill and died within a week of each other. They hadn't finished paying off the loan on the business, so the creditors took it. And neither Orpah nor Ruth had had children yet, so they would be going back to their own families to marry again.
There was nothing left for me at all. No husband, and no sons, and no hope of grandchildren. I was too old for my husband's nearest relative to marry me in my husband's place and raise up a second family. The only thing left for me to do was to go back and die among my own people in Judah. So I told the girls my decision, and we packed up our things. It was just like when Elimelech and the boys and I had left Judah ten years before; I could carry everything I owned in a bundle on my shoulders. Only this time I would be traveling alone. My sadness and bitterness and grief were so deep I felt I would die of them. I cried out to God, "Why have you brought this sorrow on me?" But I received no answer to comfort me; only silence.
Orpah and Ruth chose to walk with me to the border of Moab, and I welcomed their company. They were good girls; I was glad that they were young enough to marry again and raise up sons who would care for them in their old age. We hugged one another and wept when the time came to say goodbye. Both of them said they didn't want to leave me, and I knew it was true. We had been happy together. I was very fortunate in my daugh¬ters-in-law. But I was firm. There was nothing for them in Judah. If it had been hard for us as Judeans to be accepted in Moab, it would be three times as hard for them to be accepted as Moabites in Judah. They had to go back to their own families, where at least there was some hope for their futures. And Orpah agreed. She dried her eyes and picked up her bundle and started off. But Ruth wouldn't go. And that surprised me, because of the two she was always the quieter and more eager to please. I would never have thought she had such a stubborn streak. She said the most beautiful thing to me, I'll never forget it:
"Do not urge me to leave you, or turn back from following you; for where you go I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your god will be my god. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried with you. And may God punish me very severely if I break this promise to you, and if I leave you for any other reason than death."
So what could I do? I had done my best, and indeed she would be a comfort to me. I was feeling so tired and old, I wasn't sure I could even walk all the way back to Bethlehem alone. I welcomed her energy and strength, and said no more.
It took us almost two weeks to walk the distance, because I was so tired. But we finally arrived in Bethlehem, just as the barley harvest was beginning. And my old friends pointed their fingers at me and said, "Look at Naomi, coming back from Moab all alone, with only a Moabite woman for company." And I wept with them at the deaths of my husband and sons, and we lamented aloud together at the cruel fate which God had dealt me.
But then, the next morning after I had rested, I felt better, and as I looked down from the city gates to the fields where the laborers were bringing in the harvest I had an idea. So I told Ruth about our law that permitted widows to follow behind the harvesters and pick what was left over, to keep them from starving; she agreed right away, and went off to the fields. In the meantime, I made some inquiries, and discovered that one of my late husband's relatives, a well-to-do-farmer named Boaz, was unmarried. So I determined that the next day I would send Ruth into Boaz' fields so that he would see how pretty and well-behaved and modest she was, even though she was a Moabite, so that perhaps he would be willing to marry her as her late husband's nearest relative. But when she came home that night, she told me that she had already met Boaz, who had been really nice to her and told his laborers to leave a lot of barley behind so that she could pick more than enough to feed us both. This was a good sign, I thought; maybe God hadn't forgotten us, after all.
Well, our laws are pretty complicated; if you want to, you can look up all the details in Ruth's book, in the Bible. But God was indeed good to us, and Ruth and Boaz got married after the harvest, and the next year they had their first son. And do you know what they did? They brought him to me and laid him in my lap, saying, "Mother Naomi, this is your son, to take the place of Mahlon, and to comfort you in your old age." So, you see, God did not forget me after all, and all my bitterness and grief has turned to joy at last, at the end of my days.
