St. John's
Reforming the heart
The story of Ruth is a strange one to our ears. The cultural expectations that make Naomi plead with her widowed daughters-in-law to return to their own families is completely alien. But the notion that ‘family takes care of family’ is not. In Ruth it seems like an emotional attachment has overruled the cultural realities of the day. No matter that another husband is unlikely - (Naomi’s chances of producing another son as Ruth’s husband – as law and custom required – are next to nothing, by Naomi’s own admission) – Ruth ‘clings’ to her mother-in-law. ‘Your people will be my people.’ She valiantly says, ‘and your God, my God.’ A statement of faith? Perhaps – but it is also a declaration of love – a sign of devotion and commitment to her grieving mother-in-law.
They had shared a grief that is not fully explored in the opening verses. For Naomi there has been a family exodus to a foreign land to escape a famine; the brief joy of seeing her sons marry (even in exile there can be joy…); but after that - death, death, death. To mourn the loss of husband AND sons in a strange land made it necessary for these three women to rely on one another, but Orpah hears wisdom in Naomi’s advice, and returns to her family in tears.
Ruth says (in essence) I’m with you all the way.
The change of heart that allows us to give our allegiance to others for emotional reasons is the most profound change of all. The old marriage vows that invoke the image of leaving birth families and ‘clinging to one another’ count on this change of heart. Our idealism around ‘true love’ is built on the kind of relationship that Ruth seems to have with Naomi. And while the truth about the lasting, eternal nature of our bonds of affection is a different story, we do still hold on to that ideal that says ‘I’m with you all the way.’
Of course, these stories are really about the love that God has for us all; a love that defines the lasting and eternal ideal. And the commitment that Ruth has to her mother-in-law is ultimately rewarded – and celebrated as a gift from God.
And that means we need to listen carefully as Jesus describes what constitutes family in today’s gospel.
These are cautionary tales on a day that this branch of the Church ‘celebrates’ re-formation. Just like other traditions around the 31st of October, our understanding of what Reformation is (or isn’t) is layered and often misrepresented.
All Hallow’s Eve is a seasonal post-harvest, pre-Christian festival that the Church has long tried to claim – as the ‘warm-up for All-Saints day.’ The spooks and specters that fill the town tonight are reminders of many ancient customs, superstitions and myths, all glossed over with candy and what not.
So too reformation Sunday has become the mythical starting point for an upheaval in the wider church that had been brewing for nearly a century before Martin Luther started calling the pope of the day nasty names.
So as an historical marker, the claim of the day is dubious. But as a reminder of the movement that asked difficult questions of the church, and re-formed the way people of faith expressed and described their relationship with God, well, this is as good a day as any.
And in the 15th and 16th centuries, the questions being asked were questions of relationship. Who gets to say how we interact with God? Who gets to read - and thus interpret - scripture? How does faith work? What might salvation mean?
In wrestling with these questions, people were eventually given a choice; to maintain the status quo – to uphold 1500 years of institutional development, growth and prestige – or to set out on a new path, with no traditions to guide them and no expectation of success?
That millions are now worshipping in their native languages – that we read the Scriptures in English, sing hymns and share in the decision making of the denomination – that we are doing all those things is a testament (to some) that God’s Spirit smiled on the dangerous enterprise of re-forming the faith over 500 years ago…and so today, our question might well be ‘so what?’
Should we really celebrate the dismantling of the church into the hundreds upon hundreds of factions that have developed since the mid- 1400’s?
Why can’t we be ‘one, big, happy family?’
Well, for this, I refer to our Scriptures once more.
Ruth, Orpah and Naomi were as united (no one would have called them happy) as was possible under the circumstances. Yet Orpah could not ‘take the chance’ that Ruth took. People are different, after all – different needs, different gifts, different ways of dealing with the world.
Sometimes, the best ways are separate ways.
But Jesus offers still another angle on the problem. ‘Look, here are your mother and your brothers…wanting to speak to you.’ And Jesus invites (indeed, insists) that the definition of family is broader than blood. “…whoever does the will of my Father …is my brother, and sister, and mother.” The relationship depends not on birth or marriage, but on actions and the desire to see a thing through. The family of God is not limited to denominational boundaries or creedal associations – perish the thought! The family contains those ‘who do the will of God,’ and that is a broad and challenging definition, no matter what your theological perspective might be.
Those who sought (500 year ago) to reform the church, were also asking questions about the will of God.
Not that they presumed to know God’s mind – but it is always appropriate to challenge Christian practice by wondering if this is really what God wants.
In this way, there has been a gradual change in attitudes towards slavery, indigenous peoples, war, divorce, sex, and marriage, not to mention the churches relationship to governments and other religions.
This is not the church ‘caving in to modern society’ – it is the church actively listening to the Spirit and trying to understand what it is that God wants.
In Ruth’s case, it’s possible that God wanted to give a truly righteous man (Boaz) an opportunity to live out his righteousness.
Jesus’ challenge is more broad – more generous; He has cast the net wide, and invited each of us to ask the reformer’s questions. What does this mean? How should we relate to God? To one another? What does the Lord require of me? Of us?
Those who dare to live with those questions to guide them are, like Ruth, travelling an unknown path. But the generous, gracious God who calls us to ask these questions has promised to guide us and sustain us on the journey, and as it happens, that promise is enough to make the journey worthwhile.
