I hope this post finds you well. Life has been full in Pelican Rapids lately - home visits, meetings, sermon-writing, keeping up with Spirit class homework, and a host of other duties. I had the chance to get away to Marcell for a few days, where I helped my grandpa take out the dock from the lake - another summer is wrapped up and finished. They came over to Pelican Rapids yesterday afternoon where I preached this morning, and then did ditch clean-up with a bunch of our youth - it's been fun to get to know them one-on-one.Here's the sermon text from this morning, taken from the book of Ruth:
Sisters and brothers, grace to you and peace from God our Creator and God’s Son Jesus the Christ. Amen.
It was 5:30 in the morning at St. Andrew’s Lutheran Church, and the Saturday morning looked to be promising. Sun slow to rise streamed through the windows in the fellowship hall, reflecting off the pine trees in the distance, and the smell of coffee brewing wafted in from the kitchen. Suddenly, someone stirred and came out of their room. A young man, probably only a few years older than me, came to where I was sitting, and joined me in the early morning silence. For a long time, we both looked out the window. It was the oddest feeling, but I remember feeling the need to talk to this person, who I had never seen before. He soon struck up conversation, very openly and honestly – about his marital troubles, about wanting to be a good father, about living at the local homeless shelter, and he asked me how he could turn his life around. He invited me to share my story. He then told me that he had moved from Montana to Minnesota, chasing one job after another with no contentment. We shared things in common – a love of the Grand Rapids north woods, a desire to seek deeper faithfulness, and we wondered about these questions together. We talked for two and a half hours, about anything and everything. After getting a cup of coffee, we thanked each other for the conversation, and then the man, his name was Kenny, quietly got up and slipped out of the church where we were doing homeless shelter overflow. I never saw him again, yet in those early morning hours I had an experience I will never forget – of being in conversation, of being true with and for the sake of each other, and navigating times of difficulty. A man, who I had never met before then, showed up, embodied Christ in our midst, and modeled what compassion and relationship looks like. In those moments, who we were for each other and holding space for each other, mattered.
We arrive at this today in this beautiful little tale called the book of Ruth. We encounter a migrant, piecemealed family, who is in transition, who are in mourning at their loss of their husbands, who are calling into question their very futures. We encounter a mother-in-law encouraging her daughters-in-law to return to their homelands, we are meeting on the road women who are shedding tears at the prospect of leaving one another. One – Orpah, goes, while Ruth, the other, clings to Naomi. This scene is placed against the larger context of the time when the judges ruled Israel and famine in the country was commonplace.
These women, along their life’s journey, have been transient. Moving from Bethlehem to Moab and, now, alone, back to Bethlehem, to a country that is restless and an enemy to Ruth, a foreigner, a Moabite. Naomi, upon saying goodbye to Orpah, invites and encourages Ruth to do the same – to return to her people. Her life would be better that way. Ruth’s famous words show total devotion – not only to Naomi, but also to investing in the life that yet lay ahead of her: “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” In the face of transition, in the face of life’s changes, Ruth claims Naomi’s life now as her own – she will adopt Naomi’s people and her God. It would have been an option for Ruth to turn back and to leave her mother-in-law, but her sense of accompaniment in Naomi’s life, in her profound, direct bitterness, outweighs her own wants. The text, I think, begs the question to be asked as we see Ruth’s answer unfold – the question of who are we, especially in times of transition, in periods of discernment, or in seasons of disquiet? In a truthful, profound and relational ways, this text asks us who we are to be for each other – who is Ruth for Naomi, and who are we for our neighbor in the pew? This text invites a deeper look into how we are made known by God even when we struggle with knowing our very selves. At the end of this text, Ruth and Naomi are about to walk into Bethlehem; are just staring at the edges of the barley fields far in the distance, and a lot remains unseen. They could be rejected, forgotten. In the face of that, though, God, in this book, in indirect ways, lays claim upon them and calls them as God’s own. The claim of this text is that we can always rely on God to intersect our very own realities in ways that we never expect, and to realize that that is where life flourishes. We know the ending for Ruth – she is eventually married and a son is born to her and promises are made to Naomi – that “he shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age.” Because of who Ruth and Naomi are for each other, God meets them and brings life out of death. Mara, bitter, has been renamed Naomi, pleasantness.
So it is with us – I invite you to consider, deeply and profoundly, who are you? Who are you as a child of God, claimed and beloved even though in times of transition and despair it’s really hard to see? Who are you, in relation to your neighbor, both down the road, in town, and across the globe? Who are we, as the family of Zion Lutheran and as the body of Christ? I can imagine that there would be a myriad of answers to those questions, but it helps us to see just a little bit clearer God’s intentions for God’s world. No matter what the answers, each of us are called to be examples of faith, hope, and love not only to the world but also for each other. Just as Kenny lived that out in our conversation together, so I see it in each of us as we live life together.
Today, and every single day of our lives, each and every one of us gets to embrace this story of faith, this story of witnessing to each other in times of difficulty. We get the privilege in this community to be real and honest with each other, for the sake of engaging in and responding to some world-changing, life-changing work, called the Gospel. Ruth says to Naomi, “May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you.” In hearing those words, we have been given a strong commitment and responsibility to bear witness to each other. Hearing Ruth’s words gives us purpose and encouragement to continue living into God’s mission in the world knowing that the last thing we are is alone; we are very much working together. My friends, the barley fields are just down the road. Let’s walk into Bethlehem. For our life together, I say, thanks be to God. Amen.
Hope you all have a blessed Sunday!
Dean
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