Arts, Christianity, Culture

The Book of Ruth

OLD TESTAMENT

Intro: The book of Ruth is a touching human story of faithfulness, love and decency. It tells how Ruth, a Moabite, came to Israel and became an ancestor of David (and Jesus). The book was written during the judges’ period c. 1150–1050 BC.

FAITH RESTORED

EVEN in the darkest of places and times there is usually some trace of decency and faith. The book of Ruth, set in the lawless period of the judges, is like a candle-flame of hope glimmering in the darkness of despair.

It begins with what seems to be a majestic act of self-sacrifice. Ruth opts to emigrate to her mother-in-law’s homeland when common sense suggests she would be better off in her own country.

Relations between Moab and Israel were constantly strained. During the judges’ period the Moabite king Eglon had oppressed Israel for 18 years (Judges 3). So Ruth could not be sure of a welcome in a country which in any case was hostile to foreigners for religious reasons.

Yet faith in God and love for Naomi overcame personal considerations. Ruth does not know that all will work out well in the end, and neither do we when faith and love demand unusual and sacrificial actions. The story reminds us that God does not let down those who trust him.

But Ruth is also a treatise on God’s providence. It illustrates superbly his provision for his people and his sovereignty over their affairs. This superbly written and carefully constructed story shows that God has not left his people.

He is not mentioned much, but he does not need to be. People may suffer heartache, grief, and hardship, but he is directing their steps through the hazards even though they are at best only dimly aware of the fact. God is like a director hovering behind the camera, placing the actors in the right places at the right times. His providence extends over a long-time scale and across territories.

Boaz also reflects God’s character. He is described as a “kinsman-redeemer” (2:20). It was the custom – indeed, the law – that the nearest relative should take as an additional wife the widow of his close relation to provide for her and to maintain the family line.

So he becomes a picture of God for hard-pressed believers. Boaz is not tarred with the brush of selfish indulgence that is clearly seen in Judges. Indeed, he is touched by Ruth’s willingness to have him as he seems old enough to be her father (3:10). For them relationships are matters of trust and honour, of faithfulness more than feeling.

Throughout Scripture God is seen as a redeemer, bringing his people out of spiritual poverty and slavery, and giving them new life and hope. He is faithful, doing what is right and keeping his covenant. And he is kind. This story reminded oppressed people at the time of the judges that the God of the Exodus had not forsaken them; his character had not changed.

Boaz’s selfless willingness to take Ruth (when a closer relative refused) and at the same time to abide by the strict conditions of the law provides a colourful illustration of the New Testament picture of God’s redemption through Jesus Christ. We too are without eternal hope; we too are dependent on mercy and grace. Christ fulfilled the law and revealed his love on the cross.

Ruth restores our faith in human nature, giving us two great examples to follow. It also rekindles our faith in God. He sticks around in the worst of times, works for our good over long periods of time, and remains faithful to his own character.

For today, the book of Ruth has a clear message. Faithfulness to God and love for others is more vital than personal comfort, and we are to trust God to guide our steps when we can’t see the future.

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Arts, Christianity, Culture

Genesis: The roots of life, the universe and everything

OLD TESTAMENT

THE emotional health of a human being depends partly on an awareness of one’s roots. Persons who have been adopted usually want at some stage to rediscover their natural parents, just to satisfy a deep longing.

In the same way, the spiritual health of an individual, and even more of a group of people, depends partly on knowing their own story. Such knowledge puts the present into context and provides pointers for the future.

The book of Genesis provides people of all races, cultures, and generations with a set of roots. Its first ten chapters address some of the deepest questions anyone can ask. Where did the world come from? Is it planned or just an accident? Why is there so much bad in the world now? What does God think about human wickedness?

Then in chapter 11 the story focuses on the family of one man, Abraham, which is to become the nation through which God promises to reveal himself to the world. The ‘people of God’ prove to be quite ordinary and extremely fallible. The ‘Patriarchs’ are not saints.

Genesis is a preface to the story of God’s people. Christians who rank Genesis and the Old Testament below the New Testament Gospels and letters are ignoring their roots. The ‘Christ event’ springs from the opening chapters of the Bible.

All in a day’s work?

THE chief conflict between science and Christian belief has centred on the interpretation of the ‘days’ of creation. Scholars have suggested that they might be unspecified periods of time using ‘day’ poetically (as in Psalm 90:4 or Isaiah 2:11) or part of a liturgical celebration pictured as a week’s work.

If the author’s purpose was theological rather than descriptive, then the issue of creation’s mechanics must assume a secondary place. The book of Job (chs 38,39) calls for humble agnosticism in the face of processes far beyond human understanding. (This applies as much to Christians anxious to maintain biblical integrity as to scientists anxious to explain the beginning of time).

However, Christians also believe that the author chose his words carefully, and therefore ‘day’ must have some significance. For today’s readers, perhaps the compactness of the story is a welcome balance to the mind-numbing statistics of the age and expanse of the universe.

From God’s point of view, what is immense to us was really just a few days’ work for him. The universe is not then such a frighteningly big place after all. There is Someone behind it so powerful that, as Isaiah says, he can hold the oceans in the palm of his hand and count the drops.

With that in mind, Christians do not need to fall out over the precise interpretation of ‘day’. That God spoke everything into existence, when previously nothing was there, is the important truth to grasp.


A narrative on Genesis 1

THE biblical account of creation is primarily theology. It answers the age-old questions, ‘Why is there a world?’ and ‘Why is it the way it is?’ in timeless terms from which people in every culture can gain insight.

For example, as the twenty-first century dawned people sought some unifying principle in holding together the vastly complex and apparently random systems of nature. Genesis reassured us by showing how God weaved order out of chaos as part of his creative task.

It tells us that God is the one constant of the universe. He is uncreated and the reason for all that exists.

Christians may see in the passage a hint of God as a Trinity who uses the ‘royal we’ at the creation of people (1:26). There is also a reference to the Spirit of God (v 2). God is portrayed as a personal being, not simply as a ‘force’.

We notice him to be a methodical Creator. He leaves nothing to chance but has an eye for detail. What he makes is good; it reflects his character and is pleasing to see. Built into it are the seeds of life reproducing itself at all levels. Creation is not a part of God but separate from him.

The ultimate purpose of his work is to make an environment fit for human beings. They are made in God’s image, that is, they are capable of moral choice and of a willing relationship with him. They are not trapped in a body of instincts and desires but can transcend their physical limitations in a way that no other part of the animal creation can.

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Arts, Christianity, Culture

Psalms: Scaling heights and plumbing depths

OLD TESTAMENT

CRISP, graphic language – which is the common thread of all poetry – captures mood and emotion more vividly than mere prose. “My heart pounds, my strength fails me; even the light has gone from my eyes” is far more evocative than “everything has gone wrong at once”. We can identify with the feelings even if the circumstances are unknown.

Similarly, many spiritual experiences and theological truths cannot be captured fully in prosaic definitions or formulae. “The voice of the LORD is over the waters; the God of glory thunders” (29:3) evokes a “picture” of God’s majesty by linking him to the awesome power of nature seen in a storm. “God is more powerful than anything else” is tame, even if true.

That is the genius of Psalms. All human experience is here, from ecstatic joy to despairing pain. And, to many modern readers’ surprise, there are complaints and even imprecations – curses – scattered among the 150 poems.

Old Testament believers knew how to bare their souls to God. They reckoned that a covenant-keeping God could cope with their exasperation, for they knew he would not allow his people to suffer oppression for ever.

Many psalms relate to specific historical events. A few can be traced, and others can be described in general terms. Frequently they concern the nation’s fortunes rather than the individual’s. Understanding them can help us enter the writer’s concerns.

Today’s readers need to approach the psalms carefully. Do not look for neat theological formulae. We are meant to feel, rather than analyse, the outpourings of praise or pain. They are to be read meditatively. Ask first, what is the writer trying to express? And then, what insight does he have into God or the human condition which we can learn from, or meditate on?


Prophetic edge gives wider meaning

A narrative on Psalm 2

WHEN we turn to examine what the prophets of the Bible wrote (or said) we see that their words were not always understood in the way we interpret them today, nor in the way some New Testament writers quote them. Some of the psalms also have this ‘prophetic’ element which was at least partially hidden from the writers (cf. 1 Peter 1:10-12).

This is one such. Verse 7 was used at Jesus’ baptism and the letter to the Hebrews begins by quoting it (1:5). Verse 8 is echoed in Jesus’ ‘great commission’ and verse 9 is picked up in the vision of Christ’s cosmic rule (Revelation 12:5; 19:15). The first Christians saw it as clearly messianic in their prayer in Acts 4:25,26.

At one level, therefore, we can say that in hindsight the whole Bible points towards Jesus. But it would be wrong to take this psalm, and others like it, simply as poetic forecasts. It meant something to the author at the time also, which is where all biblical interpretation should start.

It rejoices in typical Middle Eastern terms at the king’s relationship to God as his son, and the king’s relationship to subservient nations as their ‘father’. When church and state are separated, as they mostly are today, it is hard to think of kings as divine appointments, but they did in Old Testament times, which is what the psalm celebrates.

Today’s readers can apply the worship and praise in two ways. We can use its prophetic imagery to reflect on the greatness of Jesus. Also, we can use it to reflect on our own relationship with God as his children, privileged to serve as his fellow workers and ambassadors in the world (1 Corinthians 3:9; 2 Corinthians 5:20).

Love and serve the LORD.

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