Theology of Resilience Amidst Vulnerability in the Book of Ruth 1

A Sketch of Assumptions and Considerations

My approach in this article is a combination of feminist and post-colonial approaches while looking at Ruth through a hermeneutic of trust. My hermeneutics of trust towards Ruth is based on two factors: the author’s portrayal of Ruth as exemplar of ḥesed and my own lived experience as a foreign minority in the United States with a similar narrative of resisting precarity. My assumption is that Ruth and I share similar lived experiences of living a decent and comfortable life in the land of our birth because we have a husband who cared and provided for us, but due to a decision to care for someone we decided to move to another country. Ruth, though being a foreign minority woman, one who is lacking in financial resources with no means to earn (as in my case having no legal work permit for certain number of years), this does not mean she is lacking in virtue or strength of character. Or even if Ruth lived in poverty in Moab, this does not mean she is impoverished in her mind, spirit, and emotion. Her character portrayal in the book of Ruth seems to say otherwise.

In addition, I do not only read Ruth through the lens of a foreign minority woman, but also through a post-colonial perspective and hierarchical value system. I was born and raised in the Philippines, a country that has been under colonial power for centuries, and where certain parts of the country are still predominantly hierarchical, agrarian, and collective. I was raised in a highly hierarchical household and in the value system of honour and shame where ancient Biblical Israel and ancient Near Eastern values resonate with me. I was also raised in a somewhat similar ancient ethics of gratitude within a hierarchical society. Society demands that a person in a less privileged position or younger position must express not only honour and respect, but also gratitude and loyalty because of the provision and protection given by the one in a more privileged position. I see Boaz through the same cultural lens, where men, in a collective society were more encouraged to live up to the expectations of the community – to be benevolent and the protector of their families and to those in vulnerable positions. Subsequently, there is a physical space component where the private and public sphere is not separate nor clearly delineated.

Further, there are three important and interconnected areas for considerations in Ruth. First, two primary debates arise in Ruth scholarship: historical location and the purpose of the book. It has been stated (Campbell, 1975; Lacocque, 2004; and Lau and Goswell, 2016) that scholars who attest to a Monarchic provenance tend to view Ruth as a ‘pro-Davidic apology’, while those who subscribe to a post-exilic view articulate Ruth as a polemic or a counter proposal to ‘exclusionary application’ of the law in the Ezra-Nehemiah period in order to protect Jewish identity. ⁵ Ruth’s foreignness is relevant to both historical settings. The book serves both functions since it emphasizes Ruth’s foreignness and speaks nothing negative about Ruth. Rather, the book makes her the protagonist of the narrative. Additionally, re-readings of Ruth could have become relevant to Israelite society whenever there’s a perceived negative attitude towards foreigners or whenever social injustices prevail against foreigners. Ancient Israelite law codes are distinct from other ancient Near East law codes mainly for their special provision for resident foreigners: ‘The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you and you shall love him as yourself for you were aliens in the land of Egypt’ (Leviticus 19:34; cf Numbers 15:15-16; 15:29). ⁶ There is an ethical imperative to treat resident foreigners in the same manner the citizens are treated, a command to provide no distinction, prejudice, partiality, nor unfairness. Additionally, there is the moral imperative: Israel is to love resident foreigners as oneself – treating them as one would wish to be treated. Israel is to extend graciousness and kindness to foreigners on the basis of remembering their status in Egypt. Extending love to foreigners is their act of gratitude towards the God who brought them out of slavery from Egypt.

The second point of consideration is the theology of God’s hiddenness, providence, and human agency in the Hebrew Bible and specifically in the book of Ruth. God’s presence is hidden, and yet God is actively working behind the scenes. God’s presence can be discerned in person, action, word, or event. Through the narrator and actions of the human characters in Ruth, God’s hiddenness is revealed. The book opens with the narrator’s report that Naomi heard that ‘the Lord had visited his people in giving them food’ (1: 6). Subsequently, as Lee (2015: 32–33) rightly points out, ‘God’s providence in Ruth features a God who gives and shares agency’ and further expands that the ‘Divine presence does not control events with a heavy hand but manifests itself through a gracious partnership with God-centered people who are willing to do what is right’. Throughout the Ruth narrative, its characters act as God’s agent of God’s ḥesed; making God’s presence known and felt by readers, though God is only mentioned at the beginning and end of the narrative. Also, in the final chapter of Ruth, it says, ‘The Lord gave [Ruth] conception, and she bore a son’ (4:13). This implies a miraculous birth, one ordained by God, since Ruth was not able to bear any child in her previous ten-year marriage. God’s two acts of fertility (1: 6 and 4:13) frame the narrative and point to God’s providential care over all activities in the narrative. ⁷

Additionally, the prayers of blessings pronounced by the characters alert the readers to the potential hidden actions of God in response to the prayers of his people (1:8–9; 2:11–12; 2:20; 3:10; 4:11–12; 4; and 14–15). Through human agency God’s purposes are fulfilled. ⁸ In the end, every prayer of blessing throughout the narrative has been answered through human agency. ⁹

Third, the Ruth narrative explicates Ruth’s journey from one who is looked upon as a Moabite to one who has become one of the Israelites – the people of God, the agents of God’s love. What does it mean to be God’s people? How can we as believers of God help members of our communities struggling against the ‘violence of precarity’ which Claassens (2016) brings to the fore? ¹⁰ Or how can we provide ‘revolutionary love’ to those in vulnerable positions which Jones’ presidential speech addressed at the American Academy of Religion? ¹¹ Thus, the focus of this is to encourage ethical reflections on how we as professors and students of theology can add value to what we do, how to act as role models and agents of change in caring for and empowering those in vulnerable positions, especially and even if we ourselves are in a vulnerable position. With these kind of inquiries and reading the Ruth narrative as set in the days when the judges ruled (1:1), where violence abounds and people go about as they see fit, where ‘chaos on the political and social level hits the most vulnerable members of society especially hard’ (Claassens 2016: 133), I highlight Ruth’s theology of resilience amidst vulnerability, one that is rooted in ḥesed – a generosity beyond the expected call of duty.

Journey to Bethlehem: The Road to Resilience, Rooted in Identity and Ḥesed

The book of Ruth begins with the story of Naomi: of how she, her husband, and two sons moved to Moab due to the famine in Israel (1:1). In Moab, her husband died, and her two sons married Moabite women (1:2–4). Then her two sons died (1:5). Eskanazi (2011) expressed that the unexplained deaths of Naomi’s husband and sons have ‘become a touchstone of complex theologies and debates in Rabbinic literature’ where the sages infer various sins. ¹² I propose that the author intentionally does not explain the deaths because they invite the reader to accept death and loss as part of life’s reality. Only Naomi speaks of her situation as the ‘hand of God going against her’ (1:13); the narrator, Ruth and Orpah seem to see death as a fact of life. Acceptance of this reality is the first step in building resilience.

Subsequently, Naomi decides to return to Bethlehem (the house of food) because Naomi heard of the Lord’s provision of abundant harvest for his people (1:6–7), which means provision for widows like her. Ancient Israelite laws command Israelites to make special provisions for the poor, widows, orphans, and foreigners to glean on their fields during harvest:

When you reap your harvest in your field and have forgotten a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to get it; it shall be for the alien, for the orphan, and for the widow, in order that the Lord your God may bless you in all the work of your hands. When you beat your olive tree, you shall not go over the boughs again; it shall be for the alien, for the orphan, and for the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, you shall not go over it again; it shall be for the alien, for the orphan, and for the widow (Deut. 24:19–21).

As Naomi and her two daughters-in-law, Orpah and Ruth head back to Bethlehem, she graciously releases her daughters-in-law from the responsibility of going with her to Bethlehem:

Go, return each of you to her mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly (ḥesed) with you as you have done with the dead and with me. “May the Lord grant that you may find rest (mĕnûḥâ), each in the house of her husband.” Then she kissed them, and they lifted up their voices and wept. And they said to her, “No, but we will surely return with you to your people” (1:8–10, translation mine).

At Naomi’s first command to return, neither Orpah nor Ruth want to go. The second time, Naomi commands her daughters-in-law by appealing to their logic to move on without her by giving them a vision of their future: they are better off going home and getting married again (1:11–13). She can no longer provide sons for them at her age, and even if she has a ‘husband tonight and bear sons’, it is senseless for them to wait for those sons to grow (1:11–13). Naomi persuades them that they can start anew since they are still young and in a less difficult position than her (1:13). Convinced and empowered, Orpah, perhaps the logical one, obeys and heads home (1:14), but Ruth refuses to abandon Naomi – an indication that she is unconvinced by Naomi’s rhetoric on finding security in getting married. In this instance, it could be inferred that she is not convinced getting married brings security. The readers would later have a sense of where Ruth finds mĕnûḥâ (1:16): not in marriage, but in God. The third time, Naomi commands Ruth: ‘Behold, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and her gods; return after your sister-in-law’ (1:15). Orpah did the logical and natural thing, and Naomi urges Ruth to do the same. But Ruth, although no longer under obligation to care for Naomi, is adamant in going with Naomi:

But Ruth said, “Do not entreat me to forsake you or turn back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people my people (ʿammēk ʿammiy), and your God, my God (wē ʾlōhāyik ʾĕlōhay). Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may the Lord do thus and so to me, and more, except death separates you and me.” When she saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more to her (1: 16–18).

Although the text does not explain Ruth’s motives, they are unveiled in what she says and does not say. In the Hebraic mind, one’s word reflects one’s heart and one’s actions reveal one’s intention.

First, Ruth is firm in staying with Naomi because none of Naomi’s reasoning convinces Ruth. She probably does not believe that getting a husband is where her security lies, but she does not give voice to this. I say this because Ruth’s hierarchical cultural context is similar to the culture in which I was raised, where a younger one could not simply reason with an elder. This is seen as answering back, a sign of disrespect. Thus, any idea in contradiction to an elder’s opinion should not be voiced. To Ruth, her sense of security (mĕnûḥâ) lies not in her people, not in her people’s gods, not in her mother, and definitely not in getting another husband. The Hebrew term mĕnûḥâ indicates being settled in a particular place or a presence of security. Socially, Ruth has found it in Naomi, spiritually she found it in Naomi’s God. Ruth did not directly utter her commitment to God, since her speech is directed to Naomi. Brady argued that the Targum calls this text ‘Ruth’s conversion’. ¹³ However, I propose an alternative reading: Ruth’s identification with the Israelites and the God of Israel was not just at that moment – it has been there for quite a while, perhaps when she came to live in her husband’s household. Most translate 1:16b ʿammēk ʿammiy wēʾlōhāyik ʾĕlōhay as ‘Your people shall be my people and your God shall be my God’ (NASB, ESV, NRSV, NIV). But the Hebrew is all in construct noun forms and not in future or present verb forms, not in Qal imperfects like the other verbs that Ruth uses in 1:16a. Thus, Ruth asserts, ‘Your people, my people, your God my God’. Her commitment to God and love for the people of Israel has been there for quite some time. Most probably Naomi may have contributed to Ruth knowing the God of Israel, given the commitment of Ruth to Naomi.

Although whether Ruth committed herself to the God of Israel only at this moment, or at an earlier period of time (possibly while her husband was alive), may not be as relevant to the Ruth narrative. What is more relevant is that on their journey to Bethlehem, after experiencing death and loss, in Ruth’s most uncertain and life changing event, in a moment life demands her to make a major decision, she makes a faith statement and a commitment to a particular community. Lau (2011: 20) points out that ancient Israelite social understanding of the self is linked to family, clan or nation, as the unit in place of the individual. Both Orpah and Ruth’s decision to move on is based on their socio-cultural and spiritual identity. Clarity of such identities builds resilience.

Second, Ruth’s fundamental way of building resilience amidst death and loss is rooted in ḥesed. She did not merely hold on to her own life, nor focused on her own pathetic state, but she focused her attention to care for someone who is in greater need. Instead of Ruth being convinced to leave Naomi, Ruth probably became more resolved to stay with Naomi upon seeing her sister-in-law depart. Who is to care for Naomi? How will she survive on her own at her age? Even if the Israelites are known to be generous to widows, one still has to do the work of picking and gathering. She’s determined to stay with Naomi, knowing in leaving her she would probably be sending Naomi to her deathbed earlier than need be the case. This is ḥesed – loving kindness, willingly and freely given without conditions, nor any ill motive.

Moreover, most likely Naomi treated Ruth with loving kindness when Ruth got married to her son. The crossroad scene and Naomi’s prayer of God’s ḥesed to her daughters-in-law ‘as they have shown ḥesed to her and the dead’ (1:8), indicate that Naomi and her sons have treated Orpah and Ruth with such kindness since ḥesed is ‘principally reciprocal’ (Glueck 1967: 21). For Ruth, just because Naomi has grown old and useless and she is no longer obliged to care for Naomi, it does not mean Ruth would want to be free from Naomi. Ruth’s love and gratitude propel her to care for Naomi. In Philippine culture, ḥesed is similar to ‘utang na loob’, translated literally ‘inner debt’ or ‘debt of the heart’; it is a debt to love which arises from gratitude – one that is freely given and not obligatory, but a virtue perhaps culturally inculcated in reciprocating a loving kindness done. ‘Utang na loob’ is the basis of familial piety, but it is not limited within the family or clan structure. It could be a kindness given to anyone at the right time of need and draws a desire from the one who received the help to return such kindness at some appropriate future time. Such acts of gratitude do not demand any repayment, nor can such acts be fully repaid, but rather an intentional demonstration of overwhelming gratitude for the kindness that was earlier shown. It is nothing of the sort of a quid pro quo, but one willingly given and which seeks to outdo the earlier act of kindness because such kindness received was given without expecting anything in return.

Thus, being inculturated in ‘utang na loob’ value system, a ḥesed like culture, I perceive Ruth’s act of ḥesed to be an indication of her acculturation to Israelite life and values. Ruth commits her life to Naomi as an expression of her inner debt of gratitude, an outstanding debt to love no matter what. Ruth gives up the security of living in the comfort of her own country, facing the risk as a foreigner of not being able to find a husband, ¹⁴ and becoming one of the most disenfranchized, most vulnerable members of Israelite society. Though it was a selfless giving of Ruth, she herself benefitted as well. Fishbane (2010: 151) states that showing ḥesed to someone ‘breaks down the isolation of self-regard’. This means Ruth’s attention to Naomi caused her not to focus on her own loss, but may have energized and strengthened Ruth, because caring for Naomi gave her a reason to move on, a sense of significance or purpose.

What does ḥesed entail? Fishbane (2010: 152) describes ḥesed as something denoting ‘gratuitous kindness, unrequited care, and supererogatory acts’. They are actions that express ‘pure giving, in excess’—they cannot be repaid nor do they expect or demand repayment. I could not agree more with Fishbane (2010: 152) when he declares that ‘without ḥesed we would have no world, only rules for protection; we would have only limits and limitations, not excess or self-sacrifice. Thus, the world ultimately stands on ḥesed. Scripture states this clearly: The world is built by ḥesed’. The ideal road to resilience is ḥesed—a generosity beyond the call of duty, doing more than what is right, a selfless giving of oneself—for humanity depends on it. Further, Eskanizi (2011: xv) frames ḥesed as a ‘kindness that propels people to act audaciously for the sake of others’. Thus, I propose that it is Ruth’s ḥesed not only towards herself, but more so towards Naomi, which not only impelled Ruth to journey with Naomi to Israel, but also to courageously approach Boaz on the threshing floor.

Audacity and Integrity as Pathway to Resilience

In Ruth 3:1, Naomi conceives a plan to ‘seek security’ for Ruth, meaning she seeks a husband for her (1:9). She gives instruction to Ruth to ‘wash’, ‘perfume’, put on her ‘best clothes’, then to go to the threshing floor to approach Boaz after he has ‘finished eating and drinking’ and go uncover ‘his feet’ (a euphemism for genitals), lie down, and wait until Boaz tells Ruth what to do (3:3–4). And this time, unlike the crossroad scene from Moab to Bethlehem, Ruth obeys Naomi without any resistance. Ruth says, ‘All that you tell me I will do’ (3:5).

Rabbis have pondered: ‘How could Naomi propose the secretive, night-time encounter between Boaz and Ruth on the threshing floor? What did Ruth actually do? And what exactly transpired between Boaz and Ruth when they spent the night together (3:6–14)?’ ¹⁵ Rabbis justify Naomi’s scheme by pointing out the ‘purity of the goal’ and the godliness of the main characters. ¹⁶ In Ruth Rabbah, Boaz successfully resisted the temptation (Ruth R 4.4; 4.6; 7.1).

Moreover, there’s a consensus that Naomi’s scheme goes beyond the accepted norms and puts Ruth in a compromising situation. I agree with Charles Halston (2012) that it was an ‘indecent proposal’ on the part of Naomi. ¹⁷ Why does Ruth this time seem so obedient as compared to the road to Bethlehem? I propose that Ruth’s decision to follow through Naomi’s questionable plan is again consistent with Ruth’s capacity for ḥesed and resilience: to have a mind of her own and strength of emotion that is rooted in a firm knowledge of her identity and commitments (1:1–17).

I disagree with Surekha Nelavala’s (in Laffey and Leonard-Fleckman, 2017: 108) portrayal of Ruth as helpless and fearful. She describes Ruth as ‘fearful of losing [the] opportunity (which is the hope of being part of Boaz’s household) since Boaz has not made any advances.’ Subsequently, I also disagree with Alice Laffey and Mahri Leonard-Fleckman’s (2017: 108) alternative reading that Ruth ‘reflects on her own quiet calculations in the plan to attract Boaz . . . Ruth herself has been slowly manipulating Boaz since he noticed her in chapter 2’. I suggest they may have misjudged Ruth’s character. Ruth’s character portrayal in the Ruth narrative seems to say otherwise. Moreover, my assumption of Ruth is that, although she is lacking in financial resources with no means to earn, she is not impoverished in her mind, spirit, and emotion. I see her in this way because Ruth and I had the same lived experience being a foreign minority woman and I have not felt poor in my mind, spirit, nor emotion. Ruth is a woman of virtue and good character as consistently portrayed in the Ruth narrative. I do not see her as fearful, helpless, calculating, manipulative, nor willing to use her body in order to get what she wants. I say this because I myself am a foreign minority woman residing in the US, with no legal work permit for many years, and many times I have been hard pressed, but I remain strong in my mind, spirit, and emotion, with significant core values and virtues, and I am unwilling to deceive anyone for my own advantage, nor would I compromise my character nor use my body to gain favours.

Thus, I view Nelavala, Laffey, and Fleckman’s (in Laffey and Leonard-Fleckman, 2017:108), as a misinterpretation of Ruth’s inner character. Theirs, perhaps, is a hermeneutics of suspicion towards a woman (or foreigner), with the unintentional result of stereotyping Ruth as a foreigner and particularly as a Moabite woman. (Even I, as a foreign minority woman, have sometimes had my character and virtue undermined and misjudged, given that, unfortunately, many Filipinas due to poverty have resorted to prostitution, have been victims of human trafficking, or compromised their virtues). Moabite women had a history of scheming and seducing the Israelites to disobey the God of Israel. When Balak King of Moab could not convince Balaam to curse Israel (Numbers 22–23, Joshua 24:9), the Moabite women were used to seduce the Israelites (Number 25:1–3; Micah 6:5). Ruth may be a Moabite, but on the inside she is not. Additionally, the narrative refuses to stereotype its protagonists, Ruth, Naomi, and Boaz.

I propose a third way of reading Ruth. She is a Moabite by appearance, but she is an Israelite by heart who has assimilated Israelite beliefs and practices (1:16–17). Additionally, she obeyed Naomi because her proven resilience is rooted in her optimistic attitude, just as when she first went out into the field in 2:2 with an expectation she would find favour in someone’s field. Subsequently, Ruth knows she has favour in Boaz’s sight because of what she has done to her mother-in-law, as Boaz explicitly says so in 2:10–13. ¹⁸ She also senses that Boaz is protective of her (2: 1–9) and wishes the best for her, as seen in his prayer of blessing to her that God may reward her for her deeds: ‘May the Lord reward your work, and your wages be full from the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to seek refuge (2:12)’. Over all, she consents to Naomi’s scheme because she trusts Boaz, and trusts her own reading of Boaz’s character. I assess Ruth as gauging that Boaz would act honourably and protectively in private, just as he has done in public (Ruth 2:1–16). Thus, although most probably nervous, Ruth comes with expectation, hope that the God of Israel will reward her, and perhaps Boaz will act as God’s agent in blessing her. Ruth consents to Naomi’s plan based on her inner identity and commitments, her hopes and expectations, and because Ruth is a woman of resilience and of ḥesed. I say this, because as a foreign minority woman facing endless difficulties and challenges, I have learned, not only to be resourceful, but also to audaciously seek help from honourable and respectable men whom I am confident will not take advantage of me. Just like Ruth, my great expectations and hope in God cause me to press on, increasing my resolve and resilience.

I read Ruth through a hermeneutic of trust, such that although the death of her husband made her poor financially, she is neither poor in spirit nor lacking in virtue, but rather she has a strong mind with admirable character. If Ruth were to live in our time and generation, she may or may not have consented to Naomi’s indecent plan; but she made such a decision within the culture of her time, for she is a product of her culture and generation. Or does poverty make one desperate to become manipulative? Does it drive one to use one’s body for one’s end? The text recognizes this reality because it positions Ruth as consenting to Naomi’s plan. Does poverty change one’s values and character? Would this be true in the case of Ruth? I don’t think so.

Ruth follows each of Naomi’s instructions, except she does not wait for Boaz to tell her what to do. This indicates that Ruth is neither manipulative, desperate, nor deceptive. Ruth innovates at the scene because Boaz does something unexpected – he asks her, ‘Mî ʾāt?’ ¹⁹ , which translates as ‘Who are you?’ This question grants her permission to voice her identity and intentions. This is unexpected, because Naomi’s instructions are loaded with double entendre, rendering the threshing floor scene ‘sexually charged’ (Cohn Eskenazi and Frymer-Kensky, 2011: 53). Boaz, being drunk and merry in his spirit (3:7), may possibly not be his normal self, like the drunken Lot who committed incest with his daughters (Gen. 19:30–38). ²⁰ Moreover, a typical man might assume that the woman coming in the middle of the night would be a loose woman or prostitute – especially at the threshing floor – a known place where men hired prostitutes (Hosea 9:1). Any sexual man would assume Ruth came for sex and would perhaps simply proceed to having sex with her. If a man’s inclination is sex and he is drunk, most probably he would simply make love to that woman and not even know the woman’s identity until daylight – just like Jacob when he made love to Leah, he did not even know it was not Rachel until he woke up the following morning (Gen. 29:23–25).

A typical man would probably assume that Ruth came for sex in exchange for something. However, Boaz is not a typical man, he is a man of honour. The narrative refuses to stereotype Boaz, and even resists in stereotyping its protagonists. This is intentional. Even though he was in a tempting situation, he would not simply have sex with any woman who comes to him. Ruth Rabbah and Rashi interpret Boaz as frightened, thinking that Ruth was a demon spirit. ²¹ I suggest an alternative reading: Boaz was true to his noble character even in his private life. ²² He did not prejudged Ruth in assuming that she came for sex, but rather gave her the opportunity to voice her identity, and here she takes the initiative to speak courageously and authentically of her intentions. Boaz’s attitude of no judgment enables Ruth to not take advantage of Boaz’s vulnerability as a man, and she ‘de-sexualizes’ the highly charged atmosphere of approaching Boaz in the night at the threshing floor. ²³ Empowered by Boaz, her natural self-arises in this moment, a woman of ḥesed – the kindness she can do for Boaz is at least to be upfront, transparent, and truthful. I myself as a foreign minority woman have been empowered by a few select, honourable mentors. They are modern day Boaz’s, honourable men whom I had the privilege to know, and who share the same love and fear towards God. There are few good men in this age of the #Me Too Movement, who uphold the dignity of women and those in vulnerable positions.

It is important to note that Ruth does not simply say, ‘I am Ruth the Moabitess’ (as the narrative has been describing her (1:4; 1:22, 2:2; 2:21; 4:5; 4:10), nor does she simply keep quiet and wait until Boaz tells her what to do as Naomi has instructed. The content of Ruth’s speech to Boaz in Ruth 3:9 speaks volumes of who she thinks she is: ‘I am Ruth your maid-servant (ʾāmâ). So spread your covering/wings (kānāp) over your maid-servant (ʾāmâ), for you are a close relative (gōʾēl)’. She speaks in a subordinate position, describing herself as his ʾāmâ. The term ʾāmâ is applied both to literal slaves and to those who figuratively call themselves by this term as an expression of humility and submission. Ruth speaks to Boaz in humility and submission, and yet with audacity to voice her purpose: she is graceful but feisty, a woman of resilience and courage. Lafftey and Fleckman (2017: 114), point out that ‘she subtly elevates her importance from the more servile self-designation of šipḥâ’. Šipḥâ is the term, which Ruth formerly used to describe herself to Boaz upon first meeting him in the field (2:13). The Hebrew term šipḥâ means a maid-in-waiting, to be used for daughters who are getting married. I agree that Ruth ‘elevates’ herself, but I propose that Ruth does not do this in a subtle way, because they are two different words verbally spoken in Hebrew (though one translation in English). Rather she courageously yet humbly declares herself to be ready for marriage and not seeking a form of position as a šipḥâ, for she no longer sees herself in relation to Boaz as a maid or slave. Then, she solicits Boaz help for he is a gōʾēl. The Hebrew term means kinsman and one who redeems a kin from difficulty or danger. In seeking help from Boaz to redeem her from her difficult situation, Ruth uses the word kānāp (wings), the exact word that Boaz used to bless her for taking refuge under God’s wings, ‘May the Lord reward your work, and your wages be full from the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to seek refuge (2:12)’. Laffey and Fleckman (2017: 115) point out that in saying this ‘Ruth shifts the responsibility by reminding Boaz that if he wants to speak of Yahweh’s refuge and reward, he should be prepared to act as agent’. Again, I suggest an alternative reading: Ruth audaciously, but humbly and gently appeals to Boaz since she comes as an ʾāmâ (maidservant) to Boaz. This time, Ruth appeals to Boaz in a subtle way, subliminally convincing him to act on his desire for God to do her good by bringing to mind his prayer of blessing.

Ruth Targum identifies Ruth’s request as marriage proposal (Tg Ruth 3:9): ‘Let your name be called over your maidservant by taking me in marriage for you are a redeemer’. ²⁴ The Targum reassures its readers that Ruth’s intentions are pure. ²⁵ Further, the Targum explains more explicitly why Boaz praises Ruth to signify Ruth’s piety and chastity:

May you be blessed from before the Lord, my daughter. You have made your latter deed better than the former one, the former one being that you became a proselyte and the latter that you have made yourself a woman who waits for a minor brother in law until the time that he is grown up, in that you have not gone after young men to commit fornication with them, whether poor or rich (Tg Ruth 310).

The Targum is explicit that Ruth’s vow to Naomi is a commitment to God and now Ruth’s request to Boaz to redeem her signifies that Ruth has truly become an Israelite. ²⁶ Ruth, in abiding by the Israelite’s levirate marriage custom, has become one of them. The debate as to whether Ruth’s marriage to Boaz was a levirate marriage continues. This will not be discussed here, for the point of the matter is that Ruth’s audacity to approach Boaz to redeem her was acknowledged by him as greater ḥesed on the part of Ruth: ‘May you be blessed of the Lord, my daughter. You have shown your last ḥesed to be better than the first by not going after young men, whether poor or rich’ (3:10). He praises Ruth that her request is even a greater ḥesed than her commitment to Naomi by choosing him among all men to help her and not some other young men. This reveals much about Boaz, why he has not pursued Ruth. He sees himself as too old for Ruth; he is probably more of Naomi’s age. His next words in 3:11, further prove Boaz’ affection towards Ruth and how he was honoured by Ruth’s request, with Ruth being known as the worthy and excellent woman: ‘I will do for you all, whatever you ask for all the people in the city know you are a woman of excellence (ʾēšet ḥayil). Explicitly, he says that everyone in the city considers her the ʾēšet ḥayil, worthy woman. But Boaz is implicitly saying that Ruth is the ideal woman for him and the one that the sages see fit as the ‘excellent wife’ (Proverbs 31:10–31). His view of her is that everyone sees her as ʾēšet ḥayil. She has the complete favour of Boaz. Subsequently, Boaz informs Ruth that he will do the right thing the following morning to approach the nearer kinsman (gōʾēl) to see if he will be willing to redeem Ruth (3:12–13). The author leaves the ambiguity of the night and what happened between Ruth and Boaz. It seems to allow the readers to draw their own conclusions. The judgment call belongs to the readers: or does it?

When Ruth returns home from the threshing floor the following morning, the first thing Naomi asks Ruth is the same question that Boaz asked her when she appeared in the middle of the night: ‘Mî ʾāt?’ ‘Who are you?’ (3:16). Naomi inquires of Ruth’s identity, whether it changed after her night’s visit to Boaz. It was like asking her whether she has become Boaz’s woman. And the narrative informs the reader that Ruth told Naomi ‘all that the man had done for her’ (3:16). The interpretation of the preposition ְל, whether Ruth tells Naomi what Boaz did ‘for’ her or ‘to’ her, is open to the reader’s interpretation. If it is ‘for’ then that means nothing sexual happened. This follows the 3:17 sequence that Ruth informed Naomi of what Boaz gave to her, and what the reader has been informed of what happened on the threshing floor in 3:9–15. In 3:18 Naomi reassures Ruth that Boaz will ‘not rest until he has settled today’ what Ruth asked of him. However, if the translation is ‘to’, this means Ruth narrates to Naomi what Boaz did to her. This leaves the reader not knowing what really happened in her night encounter with Boaz in the threshing floor. The ambiguity remains; although the ambiguity disappears when Ruth and Boaz marry (4:13), as the narrator clearly states: ‘So Boaz took Ruth and became his woman/wife and he went in to her’ (wa bōʿaz yiqqaḥ ʾetrût, wa tĕhî l lʾiššâ, wa yābōʾ ʾēl êhā). This indicates that this is the first time that Ruth became Boaz’s woman.

Why was it important for me that Ruth desexualizes the atmosphere at the threshing floor? Why was it important that it is only in marriage that Ruth and Boaz had sexual intercourse? It is relevant because of the honour and shame culture of ancient Israel, the moral purity the ancient scripture holds, and how I perceive the author’s intention to depict Boaz as not the stereotypical sexual man, and Ruth as not the stereotypical seducing Moabite woman. The Ruth narrative seeks to present the biblical ideal and the value of keeping the purity of one’s heart and body without being legalistic. The spirit of the law is what matters, one that is rooted in ḥesed, rather than in mere appearances. What it means to be a true Israelite (one of the people of God) is seen in the actions of the heart and not in physical appearances. The private and public life must be lived congruently to each other. This, too, is the road to a sustainable life of resilience. ²⁷

Ruth’s resilience rooted in ḥesed proves true even until the end. When she gave birth to Obed the women in the community fully embraced her, they declared blessings to her son, and described Ruth as ‘better than seven sons’ to Naomi (4:15). Through her resilience she not only moves herself and Naomi from emptiness to fullness, but the whole nation as well – as attested by the genealogical record. ²⁸ This was also made possible because Boaz acted as God’s agent.

Implications and Conclusion

This article explored Ruth’s theology of resilience amidst vulnerability: a resilience rooted in ḥesed (loving kindness). Ḥesed is a powerful social force that could, perhaps, address current issues for those in privileged positions, as well as those in vulnerable ones. A re-reading of Ruth offers modern theologians and serious students of the Bible pathways towards building resilience amidst vulnerability, and in caring for those in vulnerable positions. The text at hand offers a pathway to be true to one’s core values and character, even amidst desperate situations, as well as a pathway for those in more privileged positions.

I laid out some considerations and assumptions, given my perceived similar lived experiences with Ruth as a foreign minority woman. I examined Ruth’s exemplar resilience rooted in ḥesed towards Naomi and Boaz, under cultural and spiritual frameworks within the narratives of Ruth and Naomi’s journey with Ruth from Moab to Bethlehem, and the threshing floor encounter between Ruth and Boaz. Both scenes are decisive moments for Ruth. Her words and actions in each instance reveal her resilience: her strength of mind, emotion, and spirit, in spite of her vulnerability.

Ruth is a role model for those in vulnerable positions. A rereading of the Ruth narrative can empower those in vulnerable positions and offer ways to build resilience. Ruth’s resilience as seen in the road to Bethlehem (or even in the whole narrative) is mainly grounded in ḥesed towards self, others, and God. Ruth built resilience by accepting hardship and death as life’s reality, keeping a positive view of herself, and having a focused sense of identity and commitment to care for someone. Ruth narrative lays out that resilience is developed and increased in various ways: living as God’s agent of love, identifying with a particular group of people or faith community, making decisive commitments, focusing on what needs to be done, expecting some pleasant surprises or favour from humans as God’s agent, maintaining a hopeful attitude, taking audacious initiatives, and maintaining integrity even though hard-pressed. The pathway towards sustainable resilience happens when the private and public life are lived congruently.

On the other hand, Boaz is a role model for those in privileged positions. Through ḥesed he empowered Ruth. Typically, people tend to prejudge the unknown other or the resident foreigner with suspicion, prejudice, or worst, with indifference. As someone in a privileged position, the best way to provide care is to allow those in vulnerable positions to voice their identities and their desired hopes, dreams, and purposes, and be willing to act as God’s agent and support those in vulnerable positions, if possible, in fulfilling their hopes and God’s purposes for their lives.

Moreover, Ruth’s narrative can offer pathways amidst current issues in immigration, legal and illegal foreign residents, and refugees. The Ruth narrative presents no negative attitudes towards the resident foreigner, which is consistent with God’s commandment for Israel to provide care for the resident foreigner. Just as Israel is commanded to love the resident foreigner – extend graciousness and kindness – as a sign of their gratitude to God for bringing them out of slavery from Egypt, in the same manner, Christians are to love the resident foreigner as an act of their gratitude to God for delivering them from the bondage of sin.

What is the human thing to do to those in vulnerable positions? Or better yet, how can we show ḥesed to those in vulnerable positions if we ourselves are vulnerable as well? How do we care for those without support or means of income and no bright prospects for the future? How can we even encourage those in vulnerable positions to live in integrity and interdependence? How do we advance in life without taking advantage of another’s privileged position and inner vulnerability? The challenge lies in allowing the narrative of Ruth to speak authoritatively so that it can offer pathways in upholding human dignity and in empowering those in vulnerable positions, somehow shaping us to become role models and agents of ḥesed and resilience.

Ruth’s theology of resilience amidst vulnerability provides pathways for humans to partner with God in transforming a crisis into a promising future, of transforming communities, which extends beyond a family to a nation’s destiny and subsequent generations. God used Ruth to be the great grandmother of David, Israel’s greatest king (Ruth 4:18–22) and an ancestor of Jesus, the King of all Kings. God’s grace and divine purposes seem to include vulnerable women like Ruth, Tamar, Rahab, and Bathsheba (Mt. 1:2–6). God has great plans for all his creation, not only those in privileged positions (the Boazes of this world), but also those on the margins (the Ruths of this world). Amidst the darkness, violence, and uncertainties that threaten to prevail our society, there is hope, if only we dare to live in resilience and be agents of God’s ḥesed. And there is grace offered to everyone – for there is a Saviour, a kinsman redeemer that we can turn to, and his name is Jesus.