Commentary - Ruth 2:8-16

Bird's-eye view

In this central passage of the chapter, we move from the quiet providence of God in the background to the outspoken grace of God in the foreground. The interaction between Boaz and Ruth is a living, breathing illustration of the gospel. Boaz, the man of standing and strength, takes the initiative to approach Ruth, the destitute foreigner. He does not wait for her to approach him. His words to her are a cascade of unmerited favor: protection, provision, inclusion, and blessing. Ruth responds with appropriate humility and astonishment, recognizing that she has no claim on such kindness. Boaz explains that her reputation of covenantal faithfulness has preceded her, but his generosity far outstrips any notion of simple payment for services rendered. He invites her to his table, serves her himself, and then secretly arranges for even greater provision to be left for her. This is not just a charming romance; it is a portrait of our redemption. Boaz is a type of Christ, the kinsman-redeemer, who finds us laboring in the field, covers us with his grace, and provides for us out of his abundance.

The entire exchange is a model of godly masculinity and femininity. Boaz exercises his strength and authority not to dominate, but to shelter and bless. He is a covenantal head, a protector of the vulnerable. Ruth displays a faith that works, coupled with a profound humility that does not presume upon grace, but receives it with overwhelming gratitude. The scene is saturated with the language of salvation, culminating in the beautiful image of seeking refuge under the wings of Yahweh, a refuge that Boaz himself is mediating to her.

Outline

Context In Ruth

This passage is the heart of chapter 2 and the turning point of the entire book. Up to this point, Ruth has acted in faith, accompanying Naomi and setting out to glean, but her future is entirely uncertain. Naomi has sent her out with a blessing, but with no concrete plan. Ruth's "happening" upon the field of Boaz was the first sign of God's active providence. Now, that providence takes on a personal voice and face. Boaz, the kinsman whom Naomi mentioned at the end of chapter 1, enters the story not just as a name, but as an agent of grace. His direct, personal, and generous interaction with Ruth sets in motion the events that will lead to redemption, marriage, and the birth of Obed, the grandfather of David. This conversation is the foundation upon which the rest of the book's plot is built. It transforms Ruth from a tolerated foreign gleaner into a specially protected and favored woman, all under the watchful eye of her future redeemer.

Key Issues

Handfuls on Purpose

There is a profound difference between earning a wage and receiving a gift. Ruth went out to the field to work, to earn. She was prepared to labor for whatever scraps she could gather. What she encounters in Boaz is something entirely different. She encounters a generosity that cannot be explained in terms of economics. She receives grace. And this grace comes in layers. First, there is the public grace: permission to glean, protection from the men, access to water. Then there is the personal grace: a seat at his table, food from his own hand. But then, there is a third layer, a secret grace. Boaz instructs his men to "purposely pull out for her some grain from the bundles." These are the "handfuls on purpose."

This is a marvelous picture of how God's grace operates in our lives. We are called to work, to be diligent, to "glean." And as we do, we often find blessings that seem like happy coincidences, strokes of luck, or the fruit of our own labor. But behind the scenes, our Redeemer has commanded His servants, the angels of His providence, to leave handfuls on purpose for us. The extra measure of grain, the unexpected opportunity, the timely word of encouragement, these are not accidents. They are gifts, secretly and intentionally left in our path by the one who has set his favor upon us. Ruth went home with an ephah of barley, far more than she could have gathered on her own, because her work was supplemented by a grace she knew nothing about.

Verse by Verse Commentary

8-9 Then Boaz said to Ruth, “Have you not heard, my daughter? Do not go to glean in another field; furthermore, do not go on from this one, but stay here with my young women. Let your eyes be on the field which they reap, and go after them. Indeed, I have commanded the young men not to touch you. And if you are thirsty, go to the water jars and drink from what the young men draw.”

Boaz takes the initiative. He approaches her, and his first words are of tender authority, calling her "my daughter." His instructions are a series of gracious prohibitions and commands. "Do not go" is a command of protection, keeping her from the potential dangers of other fields. "Stay here" is a command of inclusion; she is no longer an outsider but is now attached to his own household, specifically with his female servants. He gives her security, having already commanded the young men "not to touch" her. This is not a suggestion; it is a use of his authority to create a sanctuary for her. And he provides for her needs, giving her free access to the water drawn for his own workers. In one stroke, Boaz has taken a vulnerable, foreign widow and placed her under his personal protection and provision. This is what godly headship does.

10 Then she fell on her face, bowing to the ground and said to him, “Why have I found favor in your sight that you should take notice of me, though I am a foreigner?”

Ruth's response is not casual. She falls on her face, a posture of worship and profound respect. She is utterly undone by this unexpected kindness. Her question is the question of every sinner who has been apprehended by grace: "Why me?" She knows her status. She is a foreigner, a Moabitess, from a nation under a historic curse, with no standing, no rights, and no claims. She understands that what she is receiving is not a wage, but favor, pure, unadulterated grace. She does not try to justify herself or suggest she has earned it. Her astonishment is the proper response to unmerited love.

11 Boaz replied to her, “All that you have done for your mother-in-law after the death of your husband has been fully told to me, and how you forsook your father and your mother and the land of your birth, and came to a people that you did not previously know.”

Boaz gives a reason for his favor, but we must be careful here. He is not saying, "You have earned this." Rather, he is saying, "I have seen the evidence of your character." He has heard the report of her covenantal loyalty, her hesed, toward Naomi. Notice what he highlights: her radical conversion. She left everything familiar, her family and her homeland, to cling to Naomi and Naomi's God. This is the very pattern of faith that God required of Abraham. Her works do not create the grace, but they are the fruit of a true and living faith that Boaz recognizes and honors. Grace is not given because of our works, but it is never given to those who are content to live without them.

12 May Yahweh fully repay your work, and may your wages be full from Yahweh, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to seek refuge.”

Having acknowledged her faithfulness, Boaz now pronounces a blessing. And in this blessing, he points her away from himself and toward God. He, Boaz, is just an instrument. The true source of blessing is Yahweh. He prays that her reward will be "full," and he identifies the basis of this hope. It is because she has come to "seek refuge" under the wings of the God of Israel. This is a glorious metaphor for salvation. Like a chick running to shelter under the safety of its mother's wings, Ruth has abandoned all other shelters and has run to the true God for protection. This act of faith, of seeking refuge, is the foundation for all of God's blessings.

13 Then she said, “May I find favor in your eyes, my lord, for you have comforted me and indeed have spoken to the heart of your servant-woman, though I am not like one of your servant-women.”

Grace does not breed presumption. It breeds deeper humility. Ruth does not stand up and say, "You are right, I am pretty great." She remains in a posture of humility, asking for continued favor. She testifies to the effect of his words: they have comforted her and spoken "to the heart." This is what the gospel does; it speaks kindness and assurance to the soul of the undeserving. And she once again acknowledges her low status. Even after all this favor, she knows she is not even on the level of his hired servants. She is something less, a foreigner, and yet she has been treated as something more.

14 At mealtime Boaz said to her, “Come here, that you may eat of the bread and dip your piece of bread in the vinegar.” So she sat beside the reapers; and he served her roasted grain, and she ate and was satisfied and had some left.

The grace continues. Words of comfort are now followed by an act of communion. He invites her to the meal, to his table. This is a sign of acceptance and fellowship. He doesn't just point to the food; he personally serves her. The lord of the harvest serves the foreign gleaner. The picture of Christ could not be clearer. And the provision is lavish. She ate until she "was satisfied and had some left." This is the nature of God's grace. It is not a bare minimum, just-enough-to-get-by grace. It is an overflowing, abundant, more-than-we-can-contain grace. Like the feeding of the five thousand, when our Lord provides, there are always leftovers.

15-16 Then she rose to glean, and Boaz commanded his young men, saying, “Let her glean even among the sheaves, and do not dishonor her. Also you shall purposely pull out for her some grain from the bundles and leave it that she may glean, and do not rebuke her.”

After the meal, Ruth, being a woman of character, goes back to work. She does not take the grace she has received as an excuse for idleness. And now Boaz provides a secret grace. He gives three commands to his men. First, allow her to glean among the sheaves, a place normally forbidden to gleaners. This is special access. Second, do not dishonor or shame her. She is to be treated with dignity. Third, and most remarkably, they are to actively, "purposely," pull grain out and leave it for her. He is arranging for her success. He is ensuring that her labor will be unusually fruitful. This is God's tender providence, arranging circumstances to pour out blessings upon His chosen ones.

Application

The lessons from this passage are profoundly practical. For the men, the charge is to be a Boaz. Godly masculinity is not about bluster and domination; it is about using whatever strength, status, and resources you have to create zones of safety and provision for others. A godly man is a protector. He takes the initiative in showing grace. He speaks kindly to the downcast. He defends the vulnerable. He is a source of security, not a source of fear.

For all of us, we must see ourselves in Ruth. We are all foreigners by nature, outside the commonwealth of Israel, with no claim on God's favor. But the greater Boaz, the Lord Jesus Christ, saw us in our desperate condition. He took the initiative. He sought us out. He has commanded that we be protected and provided for. He has spoken to our hearts, telling us that though our sins were scarlet, they are now white as snow. He has invited us to His table, the Lord's Supper, and served us the bread and the wine Himself. And as we go about our lives, seeking to work faithfully, He has arranged for handfuls of purpose to be dropped in our path, blessing us in ways we never see and could never earn.

Our response should be that of Ruth. We should be astonished by grace. We should fall on our faces and ask, "Why have I found favor in your sight?" And we should receive His comfort, allowing His words to settle our hearts, and then rise from the table, not to be idle, but to get back to the work He has given us, trusting that our labor in the Lord is never in vain.