The Great Divorce: A Study in Covenant Faithfulness Text: Ruth 1:6-22
Introduction: A Light in a Dark Place
The book of Ruth opens in the days when the judges ruled. And if you have read the book of Judges, you know that this is not a compliment. The final verse of that book gives us the spiritual and political climate of the age: "In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes" (Judges 21:25). It was a time of apostasy, anarchy, and moral collapse. It was a dark time.
And into this darkness, the book of Ruth shines like a bright star. It is a story that seems small on the surface, a quiet domestic drama about three widows. But this little book is about the big work of God. It shows us that even when the nation as a whole is going to the dogs, God is still quietly at work, weaving the tapestry of His providence, preserving a remnant, and laying the groundwork for our redemption. This story is not a quaint tale off to the side; it is on the main road to Bethlehem, and the Messiah is coming down that road.
The story begins with a famine in Bethlehem, the "house of bread," which is a profound irony. An Israelite family, in an act of what appears to be faithlessness, leaves the promised land to seek bread in Moab, a pagan nation descended from an incestuous union. And there, tragedy strikes. The husband dies. The two sons marry Moabite women, and then the two sons die. We are left with Naomi, an Israelite widow, and her two Moabite daughters-in-law, Orpah and Ruth. All of them are empty. Empty arms, empty stomachs, empty futures.
Our text today picks up the story on the road back to Judah. It is a story of decisions, of partings, and of a radical commitment that changes the course of redemptive history. It is a story that forces us to ask what lies at the foundation of our own commitments. Are they based on convenience, or on covenant? Are they driven by sight, or by faith?
The Text
Then she arose with her daughters-in-law and returned from the fields of Moab, for she had heard in the fields of Moab that Yahweh had visited His people to give them food. So she went forth from the place where she was, and her two daughters-in-law with her; and they went on the way to return to the land of Judah. And Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go, return each of you to her mother’s house. May Yahweh show lovingkindness with you as you have shown with the dead and with me. May Yahweh grant that you may find rest, 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 return with you to your people.” But Naomi said, “Return, my daughters. Why should you go with me? Have I yet sons in my womb, that they may be your husbands? Return, my daughters! Go, for I am too old to have a husband. If I said I have hope, if I should even have a husband tonight and also bear sons, would you therefore wait until they were grown? Would you therefore refrain from marrying? No, my daughters; for it is more bitter for me than for you, for the hand of Yahweh has gone forth against me.” And they lifted up their voices and wept again; and Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her.
Then she said, “Behold, your sister-in-law has returned to her people and her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” But Ruth said, “Do not press me to forsake you in turning back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may Yahweh do to me, and more, if anything but death separates you and me.” So she saw that she was determined to go with her, and she said no more to her.
Then they both went until they came to Bethlehem. Now it happened, when they had come to Bethlehem, all the city was stirred because of them, and the women said, “Is this Naomi?” She said to them, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went out full, but Yahweh has caused me to return empty. Why do you call me Naomi? Yahweh has answered against me, and the Almighty has brought calamity against me.”
So Naomi returned, and with her Ruth the Moabitess, her daughter-in-law, who returned from the fields of Moab. Now they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest.
(Ruth 1:6-22 LSB)
The Bitter Test on the Road (vv. 6-14)
The story turns when news reaches Naomi that the famine is over. "Yahweh had visited His people to give them food" (v. 6). Notice the theology here. Famines and harvests are not random acts of nature; they are visitations from God. God had withheld bread, and now God has given bread. So Naomi decides to return.
On the road, she turns to her two daughters-in-law and, out of what appears to be genuine concern, releases them from any obligation to her. She tells them to return to their mothers' houses in Moab. She even blesses them in the name of Yahweh, asking Him to show them "lovingkindness" (hesed), just as they have shown to her and her dead sons (v. 8). This word, hesed, is a central theme of the book. It means covenant loyalty, steadfast love, faithfulness that goes beyond mere duty. Naomi recognizes that these pagan women have acted with hesed toward her family.
The girls weep and initially refuse, "No, but we will return with you to your people" (v. 10). But Naomi presses them. Her argument is a masterpiece of logical, bleak despair. She lays out the facts of the case from a purely human perspective. "Return, my daughters. Why should you go with me?" (v. 11). She has no more sons to give them, which was the basis of levirate marriage. She is too old to remarry. Even in the wildly improbable event that she married that very night and had sons, would they wait twenty years for them to grow up? The situation is hopeless. Her logic is airtight, if you leave God out of the equation.
And then she reveals the source of her despair: "for it is more bitter for me than for you, for the hand of Yahweh has gone forth against me" (v. 13). Naomi is not an atheist. She has a robust, if painful, theology of God's sovereignty. She knows that her suffering is not bad luck. She knows it is from the hand of God. She is theologically orthodox, but emotionally devastated. She believes God is sovereign, but she believes His sovereign hand is against her. This is a hard place to be, but it is an honest place. It is far better to wrestle with God in your bitterness than to pretend He doesn't exist.
This bitter realism is the test. The girls weep again. And Orpah makes the sensible choice. She kisses Naomi goodbye and returns to Moab. From a worldly perspective, this was the smart move. She chose the path of least resistance, the path of self-preservation. But Ruth "clung to her." This is the great turning point. Orpah kisses, but Ruth clings. One is an affection of departure; the other is the grip of faith.
The Covenant Vow of a Converted Heart (vv. 15-18)
Naomi makes one last attempt to dissuade Ruth. "Behold, your sister-in-law has returned to her people and her gods; return after your sister-in-law" (v. 15). Notice the connection. To return to her people is to return to her gods. You cannot separate a culture from its cult. Orpah did not just go back to her family; she went back to Chemosh, the abomination of Moab. This is not just a geographical choice; it is a theological divorce.
And Ruth's reply is one of the most magnificent confessions of faith in all of Scripture. It is not a sentimental poem; it is a binding covenant oath. She lays out the terms of her commitment, point by point.
"Do not press me to forsake you in turning back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may Yahweh do to me, and more, if anything but death separates you and me." (Ruth 1:16-17 LSB)
Let's break this down. First, she commits to a shared life: "where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge." This is a total identification. She is casting her lot entirely with Naomi. Second, she commits to a shared identity: "Your people shall be my people." This is a radical act of cultural and national conversion. She, a Moabitess, is choosing to become an Israelite. She is leaving her own tribe to be grafted into the people of God.
Third, and most importantly, she commits to a shared faith: "and your God, my God." This is the heart of it all. Ruth is not just following a beloved mother-in-law; she is converting to Yahweh. She is abandoning the false gods of Moab and embracing the one true God. This is the great divorce. She is divorcing Chemosh to marry Yahweh. All true faith involves this kind of radical transfer of allegiance.
Finally, she seals her vow with an oath, invoking the name of Yahweh. "Thus may Yahweh do to me, and more, if anything but death separates you and me." She is calling a curse down upon herself from her new God if she breaks this vow. This is not a statement of feeling; it is a legal, binding, covenantal act. She understands that covenant is unto death. When Naomi saw that Ruth was "determined," she stopped arguing. Faith, when it is real, has a stubborn, determined quality to it.
The Return of Bitterness and the Whisper of Hope (vv. 19-22)
So the two women arrive in Bethlehem, and their arrival causes a stir. The women of the town ask, "Is this Naomi?" (v. 19). Her name means "pleasant," but her experience has been anything but. Her reply is raw and painful.
"Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went out full, but Yahweh has caused me to return empty." (Ruth 1:20-21 LSB)
She wants to be called Mara, which means "bitter." Again, her theology is strong. She knows who is in charge. She names God twice: "the Almighty" (Shaddai) and "Yahweh." She correctly attributes her condition to His sovereign hand. She went out full, with a husband and two sons, and has come back empty. From her perspective, this is the whole story. God has testified against her; He has brought calamity upon her.
Naomi can only see what she has lost. She is looking backward at her emptiness. She is so consumed by her bitterness that she fails to see the great treasure standing right next to her: Ruth the Moabitess, a woman of fierce covenant loyalty and true faith. Naomi says she has returned empty, but she has returned with one of the greatest women in the Bible.
And then, the narrator gives us a quiet, almost offhand, but profoundly significant detail. "Now they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest" (v. 22). Naomi sees only emptiness, but God is setting the stage for fullness. The house of bread is once again full of bread. The harvest is beginning. This is not just a chronological note; it is a theological thunderclap. It is the first ray of dawn after a long, dark night. Providence is at work. The stage is being set for the kinsman-redeemer. Naomi's story is not over. God's sovereign hand, which she believed was only against her, is now moving to bless her beyond her wildest imaginings.
Conclusion: Clinging to the True God
This chapter presents us with a stark choice, embodied by two women. Orpah makes the reasonable choice. She weighs the pros and cons, looks at the bleak circumstances, and returns to her people and her gods. She chooses what is familiar and what seems safe. Ruth makes the unreasonable choice. She abandons everything she has ever known to cling to a bitter old woman and a God she has only come to know through that woman's family. She chooses covenant over convenience.
Ruth's confession, "Your God, my God," is the essence of all true conversion. To become a Christian is to do what Ruth did. It is to leave our old people, the people of the kingdom of darkness, and our old gods, the idols of self and sin and this world. It is to say to Jesus Christ, "Where you go, I will go. Your people shall be my people, and You, Lord, will be my God." It is a radical transfer of citizenship. We are no longer Moabites; we are citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem.
And like Ruth, we do this not because the immediate circumstances look promising. We often come to Christ out of our own emptiness and loss. We cling to Him. And like Naomi, we may for a season feel that God's hand is against us. We may be tempted to rename ourselves Mara. But God's providence is always at work, even in our bitterness. He brings us to the end of ourselves so that we might find our all in Him. And He always brings us back at the beginning of the barley harvest. The harvest of His grace is always ready.
Ruth the Moabitess, the outsider, the foreigner, through her radical faith, was grafted into the line of David, and into the line of the Messiah. The great King would come from this great faith. And so it is with us. We who were once foreigners and aliens, without God and without hope, are brought near by the blood of Christ. By faith, we cling to Him, and He grafts us into His own family, forever.