• Scripture

    Your Redeemer Will Keep You—Part 1

    June 13, 2019

    After presenting the following at a Bible study last week, I’ve had several requests to make it available. For that reason, and because it does reach into the realm of loss and death, I’ve decided to post it here. Please read with its original audience (a women’s Bible study at a Baptist church) in mind.

    The book of Ruth is named after a woman who played an important role in the history of redemption, and bringing about the Redeemer. 

    But the first chapter of the book spends most of its time telling us about her mother-in-law, Naomi. This chapter provides the foundation for the rest of the book so that we can see God’s provision—not just for Naomi, but for his chosen people, as the promises that he made to Abraham in Genesis 15 slowly come into fulfillment. 

    I’ve titled my lesson for Chapter 1 “Your Redeemer Will Keep You,” because in this chapter we are given a peek behind the curtains so that we can see God caring for Naomi in the midst of, and despite, her failures and disappointments.

    All of this fulfillment could appear unlikely, though, at the end of Chapter 1. By the time we reach the end of the chapter, Naomi has given herself a new name. She no longer wants to be called by Naomi, the name that means “pleasant,” but by the name “Mara,” which means “bitter.” If we’re reading the Old Testament from start to finish, we might notice that this is not the first time that someone has undergone a name change. One notable re-naming happened in Genesis 17. There God renames Abram “Abraham” and his wife Sarai, “Sarah”[1]when he renews the covenant with Abraham, promising him a great nation to be birthed through his offspring. From this point on, we don’t read of Abram and Sarai, but of Abraham and Sarah.

    In contrast, it is not God who renames Naomi, but rather she re-names herself. The reason, it seems, is that rather than fulfilling his covenant through her, she says in verse 21, “The LORD has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me.”[2]She is so convinced that her suffering is a sign that God did not care for her, that it was an exclusion from the covenant promises, that she takes a new name.

    So—what had happened to Naomi between Verse 1 and Verse 20 that could so traumatize her that she felt like she needed to change her name? Let’s circle back to the beginning of the chapter and work our way through from start to finish to see how Naomi came to change her name at the end of the chapter. I’ve broken the chapter into four sections that you can trace along with me.

    1. Naomi’s Emptiness, 1:1–5
    2. Naomi’s Breaking Point, 1:6–13
    3. The Redeemer Breaks Through, 1:14–18.
    4. Naomi Is Kept by Her Redeemer Ruth 1:19–22. 

    I promise, though, that we will not spend the whole morning talking about Naomi’s hard times. We will also see two ways that God is hinting at how he will fulfill his promise of a Redeemer, for both Naomi specifically, and Israel as a nation, and even us.

    Naomi’s Emptiness (1:1–5)

    We can see pretty clearly what happened to Naomi in the first five verses of Chapter 1, where the author provides the setting for the story. In these verses, the narrator spells out three reasons Naomi might have reached the point of despair that would cause her to want to give herself the name Mara. Here are the three that I think the text indicates, and these are all part of the first section, which I’m calling “Naomi’s Emptiness”: (Sidenote: Watch these themes throughout the book, and see how God works in all three of these areas)

    1. An Empty Belly, or Exile
    2. An Empty Throne
    3. An Empty Womb

    We only have to look as far as the first verse to find the first two: Ruth 1:1

    “In the days when the judges ruled there was a famine in the land, and a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons.” 

    Naomi’s first, and broadest challenge is indicated in the very first clause of the very first sentence of Ruth, where we are told that Naomi and her family lived in the time of the judges. This means there was an empty throne. This was the time in Jewish history that came after the Egyptian slavery and Exodus, and the conquest, and most importantly for our story, during the years before Israel had a king. The last verse of the book of Judges, Judges 22:25, which comes right before Ruth in our Old Testament, describes this period concisely, and hints at why this was a problem and trial for Naomi: “In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” 

    Instead of the eternal kingdom promised to Abraham, chaos, war, and disobedience ruled the land that was meant to be Jacob’s birthright. The book of Judges is full of stories of violence and ungodliness even among the judges who were often used by God to pursue justice in and for Israel among the surrounding nations. If you read Jason DeRouchie’s “Invitation to Ruth” in the study guide, you can see just how hard the times were, especially for women—fathers allowing their daughters to be harmed, husbands, judges, even, causing the violent death of their wives, women raped, murdered, and story after story of sinful violence. This was a time when Israel, and therefore Elimilech and Naomi, were experiencing the curse God had promised if they disobeyed the law he had given them.

    God’s covenant with Abraham had not yet been fulfilled. God had promised that Abraham’s descendants would be blessed themselves, and that they would be a blessing to those around them. But clearly, the land and its people were not blessed themselves, and they likewise were not being a blessing to the nations around them. There was no king in Israel who could lead the nation in worshipping God, pursuing justice, and blessing the nations. Soon after Ruth’s time, possibly even during her life, the people’s suffering was so great they were begging God for a king— a ruler to fill an empty throne.

    Another reason Naomi might have had to doubt the faithfulness and love of God came in the form of a famine in her hometown. She and her family had empty bellies.

    Bethlehem—the town literally named for bread and food, located in what my ESV study notes call a “fertile region”—did not have enough food! Thus, Naomi and her husband Elimilech were not able to provide for their sons. She and her family experienced hunger. Her family’s hunger led them to leave the land that had been promised to Abraham generations before, and go to a land where YAHWEH was not worshipped. What a disappointment! Elimilech and Naomi were exiled through famine from the land that had been promised to them. How could they take part in the promises of God, if they were moved away from the land that was so intricately tied to God’s covenant with Abraham?

    Naomi’s third problem was an empty womb.

    The narrator describes Naomi’s family and origin not once, but twice. They were from the tribe of Judah, from Bethlehem. In repeating himself in verses 1 and 2, he makes clear that Naomi’s family line was very important to the story of redemption that had been promised. The Messiah was to come from the line of Judah, and, specifically, from Bethlehem. Naomi had reason to hope, then, that her sons, from the fullness of her womb, would be involved in the fulfillment of covenant and prophesy.  

    But verses 3–5 shows the destruction of that hope. First, Naomi’s husband died. Sad as that may have been, Naomi was still able to hope in her sons’ future. But in a devastating blow, both of her sons died childless after marrying Moabite women. Naomi was left alone. She had neither an heir, nor a provider. As a woman in ancient near east society she was utterly destitute without male family members. In the darkness of this grief, the promises of God must have felt incredibly far-fetched, and the likeliness of God’s provision for her and his faithfulness to fulfill his covenant must have seemed so far away. Her grief must have been, understandably, deep, and dark. 

    These losses seem to have been a breaking point for Naomi, and we can see this clearly exhibited in the next section, verses 6–13. I’ll post this section, which I called “Naomi’s Breaking Point” soon. Watch for it, and feel free to subscribe so you can be notified when it’s up.

    [1]Gen 17:5

    [2]Ru 1:21

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  • Death and Dying,  Scholarship

    Beginnings

    March 11, 2019

    If you’ve read my About the Blog page, you saw that I wrote my thesis on a topic related to death and dying, particularly as it pertains to the Christian. I started this blog as a way to keep myself motivated to continue studying, so I wanted to tell you a little more about my thesis work and where I’m thinking my research will take me—or us, if you come along with me here on The Unhurried Chase (don’t forget to subscribe!). 

    My thesis title was “I Am But Dust And Ashes”: Pride, Humility, and the Appropriate Response to Man’s Creation.” It was my attempt to understand what being made of dust means for man’s life and relationship with God. At the start of the writing process, I was interested in human decay. At most Christian funerals the primary focus is the resurrection, and the abundant life in heaven. To understate it, this is a good thing. But, why, if God intended our sole focus to be the risen body and the eternity to come, do human bodies decay at all—surely we would miss our loved one just as much if they evaporated into thin air at death. My thesis, I thought, would be a good chance to learn what we might be missing by speeding so quickly past this disconcerting part of human life.

    After some preliminary research, it became clear the root of all of these questions was what scripture has to say about man’s creation from dust. All other questions about funeral practices, and grief, and dismissive sympathy cards are downstream from this question—what can we learn from scripture about man’s creation from dust and its implications for mankind?

    I started, fittingly, with creation. I undertook a close reading of Genesis 1–3, trying to understand what is being communicated to readers regarding Adam’s creation from dust, and subsequent exile and death. Three things came into focus through this reading: first, the dust that man was formed from was lowly, barren, and worthless; secondly, God formed Adam with special intention; third, man’s creation from dust was an integral part of man’s relation to God. If man’s first sin was pride, as a number of church fathers believed, then Adam and Eve’s move to cover their bodies after their fall could be read as a move of shame and embarrassment to hide any hint of their bodies’ lowly origin from one who was so entirely superior to them. If this reading is accurate, Adam and Eve’s exile was closely tied to their perception of their body of dust. Instead of drawing near to God as they realized the humility intrinsic to their physical bodies, they hid, and God sent them out in exile to the dust from which Adam was created.

    Next, I wanted to see if there were other passages in scripture where man was confronted with dust, and how these passages might relate to what I was seeing in Genesis. I soon realized that dust is a very common image in scripture, and that there was a pattern emerging from the text.

    I saw that in general, dust was used as an image in circumstances when men were prideful, either attempting to mimic God’s creation from dust in an idolatrous way (for example Babel, or the story of the Golden Calf), or directly defying God (as in the case of the Pharaoh of the Exodus), or when circumstances when the people of God were suffering or witnessing judgement (as seen in the stories of Abraham, Job, and Hannah). 

    The second pattern was that in each case God drew near—just as he had sought out Adam and Eve in the garden. 

    The prideful and idolatrous seemed to try to distance themselves from God and his offered relationship. As a result, they were met with the scattering hand of judgement, led to exile and destruction—scattered like chaff before the wind.

    However, the righteous found their lowly origin as a reason to turn to God, and were even comforted by it. Job and Abraham both turned to God for relief or comfort using the phrase, “I who am but dust and ashes.” Hannah, leaving her beloved son in the hands of worthless men, praises the God who creates and raises man from the dust and the ash heap. In each case God was near, and comforted them.

    The only adequate reaction to the realization that one is like chaff in the face of a gale, then, is to seek shelter in the Rock, like Abraham, Job, and Hannah. When man relates to his body of dust humbly and turns to God for comfort and shelter against the gale, he is met with care and comfort. He is not scattered like the proud, but is sustained, held together, and kept near.

    This is the work that we see in the incarnated Son of God, who took on a body of dust in order to undo Adam and Eve’s exile, to gather what had been scattered, and to become the cornerstone of a building made not by human hands, for man’s glory, but a temple made by and for the glory of God.

    So that’s it. That’s a summary of my thesis. What do you think? I’m hoping to adapt portions of it into blog posts or articles to post both here and perhaps publish elsewhere. Let me know if there is anything that you think is particularly worth reading about in more detail.

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