03 Gleaning (Ruth 2:1-17)
CHAPTER III
GLEANING
Things were at the lowest ebb with Naomi. She had used no mere figure of speech when she said that the Lord had "brought her home empty," for she was literally destitute of the means of support. Something, therefore, had to be done at once to meet the emergency, and Ruth proved herself equal to the occasion. It was the beginning of barley harvest, and the sight of the reapers at work, with the gleaners following them, suggested to her what she would do. She, too, would become a Gleaner, for Naomi’s sake. But she would do nothing without Naomi’s sanction, and, therefore, she came to her with this request: "Let me now go to the field and glean ears of corn after him in. whose sight I shall find grace." What thoughtful delicacy! what excellent wisdom! what energy of promptitude have we here! She did not wait until Naomi asked whether she could not help in some way to keep the wolf from the door, but, identifying herself thoroughly with her mother-in-law, and recognizing the necessity for exertion, she resolutely rose to the emergency and determined to do what she could for their common maintenance. Nor was she scrupulous as to the sort of industry in which she should engage. It might be true that she had been in comfortable circumstances, and had never needed to do any kind of out-door work while her husband lived; but she accepted the situation now, and was willing to do anything, however lowly, if only it were honest, for her own and her mother’s livelihood. She did not dictate to Providence, or say that if she could get this or that she would take it, but she could never bring her self to do that other. Rather she was willing to take any honorable course that might open to her, and, as gleaning was the first that presented itself, she would take that, unless Naomi objected.
It is always hard for those who have been in comfort and are reduced to destitution to bring themselves to this willinghood to take what offers, and perhaps it was easier for Ruth to act on such a determination in Bethlehem than it would have been in Moab, among those who had known her when she was better off. But in all cases, that is the surest way out of penury, and the sooner it is taken the shorter is the road. Naomi was well aware of that, we may be sure, and, therefore, with unexpressed admiration of the commonsense and what I may call the "pluck" of Ruth, and with silent gratitude to God for this manifestation of her self-sacrificing love, she put no obstacle in her way, but said to her heartily and with approval, "Go, my daughter." The field to which Ruth went, though apparently one large and undivided area, was really made up of the aggregate portions of land possessed by those who dwelt in Bethlehem. Just as, even at the present day, in some parts of Switzerland, the agricultural population live in villages round which their several patches of land lie--not cut up by hedges or fenced off by stone walls but forming what appears to be one immense field, though it is actually very carefully mapped out and divided by landmarks which are perfectly recognizable by the inhabitants themselves; so it was, long ago, in Bethlehem. To a casual visitor there would seem to be but one field, but yet the portion of each proprietor was marked sometimes by heaps of small stones, and sometimes by single upright stones placed at short but regular intervals from each other. This enables us to understand the precept against the removal of a neighbor’s landmark, and explains why in the narrative before us the word "field" is in the singular, and why it is said that Ruth found her place of privilege in the "part of the field which belonged to Boaz." In the law of Moses we find the following ordinances regarding gleaning: "When ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field; neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest; and thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard; thou shalt leave them for the poor and stranger: I am the Lord your God." (Leviticus 19:9-10; Leviticus 23:22; Deuteronomy 24:19) Again, "When ye reap the harvest of your land thou shalt not make clean riddance of the corners of thy field when thou reapest; neither shalt thou gather any gleaning of thy harvest; thou shalt leave them unto the poor and to the stranger: I am the Lord your God!" And once more; "When thou cuttest down thine harvest in thy field, and hast forgot a sheaf in the field, thou shalt not go again to fetch it; it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow; that the Lord thy God may bless thee in .all the work of thine hands." There was no money tax levied in Israel for the relief of the poor, and so this provision was made for them. The landholders were never to remove everything from their fields, but were always to leave something for the stranger and the destitute. But while this series of laws required the proprietors of the soil to remember the poor, it did not give indiscriminate right to the destitute to go where they pleased and gather what they could find. That would have led to great abuses. The forward and obtrusive among those who were in want would then have carried off the lions share; while the timid and shrinking and sensitive ones would have been left out in the cold. And again, there might have been a run upon some particular fields to the almost entire neglect of others, and so there would have been unequal pressure upon the different proprietors. Therefore, while the right of the poor to glean was clearly secured, the exercise of that right by them was regulated by requiring that the Gleaner should obtain permission from the proprietor or his representative before beginning operations. So when she reached the field, Ruth, being attracted in the providence of God, either by the kindly countenance of the steward or by the appearance of the maidens who were working under his superintendence, to Boaz’s section of the land, went and made request of "the man who was set over the reapers," saying, "I pray you let me glean and gather after the reapers among the sheaves," and the favor so modestly asked was willingly granted. But how came Ruth to be able to make herself intelligible to this steward? The question is natural, for she was a Gentile and had only a few days before arrived in Bethlehem. But the answer has been furnished by the inscription on the Moabite Stone, which was discovered in 1868, and which has proved that there was little difference between the Moabitish and Hebrew languages. The distinguishing peculiarities in each were mainly dialectic-like the provincialism’s prevailing in different parts of England; but beneath these there, was a common vernacular intelligible to both. Therefore we need not wonder that Ruth could converse so fluently and intelligently with the people of Bethlehem. But it is now nearing noonday, and yonder is the proprietor himself, coming to look after his servants. Let us attentively regard him, for he is well worthy of our notice, not only because he will become a principal actor in our little drama, but also because he is a worthy specimen of the people to whom he belongs and of the class which he represents. He is described in the first verse of our chapter as "a mighty man of wealth," but it is questionable if that expression fairly represents the original. The phrase is identical with that which is elsewhere rendered "a mighty man of valor," and only in one other place is it translated as here, "a mighty man of wealth." Some, therefore, have supposed that he was a great warrior, and others have leaned to the idea that he was merely a man of wealth. But in these early days, especially under the rule of the Judges, when hostile inroads on the chosen people were so frequently made by unfriendly neighbors, the man who had great possessions was in a manner compelled to be also a military leader; and so we may very justly combine the two meanings, and speak of him as a valiant man and a wealthy; or, as Dr. J. Morison has paraphrased the expression, "a strong and substantial yeoman." His name was Boaz, which signifies either strength or agility; or, according to some others, prosperousness, and he was, as the chapter tells us, a kinsman of Elimelech, belonging, indeed, to the same "family." The word translated kinsman here means primarily "an acquaintance," but as the closest acquaintances are ordinarily kinsfolk, it came to signify a relation. What the degree of relationship between Boaz and Elimelech was we are not distinctly informed. We shall find before the close of the story that he was not the nearest of kin, but that he was a near kinsman, and the rabbis--without, however, giving an atom of evidence in support of their assertion--have affirmed that he was Elimelech’s nephew, and therefore the first cousin of Ruth’s husband. Note, in passing, the minute providence which led Ruth to the part of the field which belonged to this man. She knew nothing of his relationship to her husband; it had even escaped the recollection of Naomi, until she had it brought back to her memory in the evening by Ruth’s report of the day’s proceedings. But, all unconsciously to herself, she was drawn to the very place out of which her help was to come. The record says, "Her hap was to light upon" the Boaz part of the field, or, as it might be more literally rendered, "Her hap happened,’’ "her lot met her." But the historian would not have us to believe that it was all by chance. On the contrary, the great lesson of the book is that "the Lord is mindful of His own," and that He leads them through ways that they know not, to the end which He has designed for them. But the writer speaks here after the manner of men. He describes all that men see. They cannot trace the workings of the divine hand; they perceive only what takes place before their eyes; and so he says here of Ruth that "her hap happened," "her lot met her," "her hap was to light" on the part of the field belonging to Boaz, but he means every reader to infer that God had turned her steps thither. But listen, as Boaz comes along to join his band, he cries to them, "The LORD be with you." Mark the courtesy of this great man. He is not above speaking kindly to his workmen. He does not hold himself stiffly aloof from them. He does not order them about with haughty indifference, as if he were speaking to an inferior order of beings. No, no; they, too, belong to the chosen people. All alike are children of Abraham. All alike are included in the covenant. They are all members of the same spiritual household, and so he treats them with respectful kindness.
Mark, again, his piety. He cries, "The LORD be with you." Now, I know that this has become the common salutation in the East, for Dr. Thomson tells us that "The Lord be with you" is merely the "Allah m’akum" of ordinary custom. I am well aware, also, that by frequent use, even such expressions of piety come to be employed without any pious feeling, and often even by those who have no faith in God at all. How seldom do we think of God when we say "good-bye," which is simply "God be with you!" It is possible that even infidels and atheists may take leave of each other with that word, and without any consciousness of inconsistency in so making use of it. So it is possible that Boaz simply meant to be courteous when he used this salutation, and that there was no more piety in it than there is in a modem "goodbye." It is possible, but not very probable, for, as we shall see in the future, this man was in the habit of tracing all blessings to God, and of commending those whom he loved to the care of God, and therefore in his mouth the ordinary salutation was restored from its common colorlessness to its first uncommon piety, and meant everything which it had originally expressed. But this salutation was no mere one-sided thing. The reapers answered, "The LORD bless thee." They did not look askance upon their employer, as if he had been their natural enemy. They recognized that in his prosperity they would prosper, and that in his adversity they could not but be sufferers with him; and therefore they reciprocated his courtesy, and followed his prayer for them by their prayers for him. It is a beautiful sight. One feels almost as if he were transported three thousand years back to Bethlehem, and saw it all before his eyes. The portly proprietor coming with stately dignity along to his own plot of the field, and kindly saluting the laborers in Jehovah’s name; the reapers lifting themselves up simultaneously from their constrained position, each with the sweat on his face and the sickle in his hand, returning the salutation with hearty affection: "An intercourse this," as William Arnot says, "between rich and poor, between master and servant, which we love to think of in those patriarchal times, which we weep the want of in our own."(The Race for Riches, and some of the Pits into which the Runners fall. By William Arnot, pp. 1, 2. Edinburgh, 1852) As Boaz glances over the band, he sees a stranger among the gleaners. But though he is struck with her appearance, and interested to inquire concerning her--for in a small community like that of Bethlehem the appearance of a new-comer would always awaken curiosity--yet he does not make immediate inquiry concerning her. With a delicateness which seems to have been more common in those times than it is in some circles among ourselves, he waited until Ruth had gone for rest into the hut which had been erected for the shelter of the work-people from the sun, and then in her absence he said to his steward, "What damsel is this?" In response the man told Ruth’s story, either as he had himself became acquainted with it from common report, or as it had come out in his conversation with her in the morning, and said, "It is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country of Moab, and she said, I pray you, let me glean and gather after the reapers among the sheaves; so she came and hath continued even from the morning until now that she tarried a little in the house." On receiving this information Boaz, probably from his kinship to Naomi, perhaps, also, from a deeper and more subtle cause, became interested in Ruth. Calling her to him by the kindly name of daughter, which indicated at once his age and her youth, and his tender regard for her, he requested her to do all her gleaning on his land, and to keep fast by his maidens, who would give to her the companionship and protection that always come to a woman from the presence with her of those of her own sex. He told her that he had ordered the young men to treat her with civility and respect, and not to subject her to the rough horse-play which was so common on the harvest-field, and he gave her the right to quench her thirst at the vessels which the young men had drawn--perhaps from the well for the water of which David so longed at a later day--for the benefit of all the laborers. This considerate treatment at the hand of a stranger went straight to the heart of Ruth, who fell at the feet of her benefactor, saying, "Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?" But in response he gave her to understand that her whole recent history was familiar to him; and the manner in which he dwells upon its details seems to reveal that he had been deeply impressed with them. Indeed, as he enumerates them it appears as if he was gathering intensity as he proceeded, until he could find no relief for his feelings save in the prayer, so simple, so beautiful, so comprehensive, so appropriate, "The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust." There is no conventionality about that Such a supplication could come only from a pious heart, as well as from a kindly disposition, and Ruth was equally sincere when she said, "Thou hast comforted me, and thou hast spoken to the heart of thine handmaid, though I be not like unto one of thine handmaidens." "Alas! no," as if she had added, "but only a widow and a stranger." But now the hour for refreshment has come, and Boaz invites her to partake of the food which had been prepared for his laborers. This consisted of "parched corn," which, according to Dr. Thomson, was prepared thus: "A quantity of the best ears, not too ripe, are plucked with the stalks attached. These are tied in small parcels, a blazing fire is kindled with dry grass and thorn-bushes, and the corn heads are held in it until the chaff is mostly burned off. When the grain is sufficiently roasted it is rubbed out in the hand and eaten as there is occasion." (The Land and the Book, English edition, p. 648. Biblical Researches, vol. ii., p. 50.) But Dr. Robinson describes another method. He says: "In the season of harvest the grains of wheat not yet fully dry and hard are roasted in a pan or on an iron plate, and constitute a very palatable article of food, which is eaten with bread or instead of it." Of this Ruth ate and was sufficed, and left, or rather "had something over," which, as we shall see, she carried home in the evening to Naomi. Besides this, she "dipped her morsel in the vinegar," which was a mixture of vinegar and water with a little oil, into which each reaper dipped his bread before eating. It was genuine open-air hospitality--a picnic, with the added zest of labor to give it flavor, and the joy of harvest to give it gladness. I have seen and shared in similar feasts many a time in the harvest fields of the west of Scotland, and there is a spontaneity in all such mirthfulness that contrasts most suggestively with the manufactured cheerfulness of a mere "garden-party." When the simple meal was over, Boaz lingered behind to tell his young men to let Ruth glean, if she would, even among the sheaves, without reproach, and to bid them let fall purposely a few handfuls, that she might, without any loss of self-respect or without any feeling of undue dependence, obtain all the more from her work. Here, again, we mark the delicateness to which we have already so frequently referred. Many men spoil a kindness by the clumsy way in which they do it; but Boaz secured here that a good service should be rendered to Ruth, even when most she felt that she was helping herself. He contrived that her gleanings should be increased, while yet she did not know that they were not all the product of her own industry. So when the even was come, and she beat out with a stick the grain from the ears which she had gathered, she found that she had taken home to Naomi nearly a bushel of barley. But now, leaving for another discourse the report which Ruth gave to Naomi of her day’s experiences when she went home in the evening, let us take with us some practical lessons for our modern life from this deeply interesting story.
See, then, in the first place, how a change of circumstances reveals character. What an unveiling of Ruth’s real nature her poverty made! Had she been always prosperous we had never thoroughly known her, and Naomi might never have discovered the nobleness that was in her. The purity of the diamond was made manifest by the cutting to which it was subjected. It is not always thus, however. Sometimes reverse of fortune brings out hardness, cynicism, almost misanthropy; and those who seemed in prosperity to be no worse than the average of their neighbors, develop under adversity into miserable, discontented, suspicious, and uncharitable people who have not a good word to say of anybody, and are at war with themselves, with their neighbors, and with God himself. But that is only because from the first they have been wrong. When they had their prosperity they did not thank God for it, but traced it to that in themselves which enabled them to rise in spite of those around them; but now in their adversity, strangely enough, they cast the blame on others and on God, and they are so bitter in their feelings that they cannot bring themselves to do even that which offers for their own support. Alas for such! they put it almost out of the power of others to assist them, and, wrapped in their own stolid defiance, they are like the man in the river who cried out, "I will be drowned, and nobody shall help me." I know few more pitiable objects than those whose misfortunes have thus petrified them, and I pray God to keep us all from such a spirit as they manifest. But the finer the nature is originally, the more nobly does it come out when the individual is required to "take a lower room" at the world’s banquet. Beautifully has it been said here by a young English preacher, whose early death was a deep sorrow to all who knew him: "The widow who, when bereavement has changed all her fortunes, goes forth to earn her children’s bread with her own hands; the daughter who, once accustomed to all that wealth could purchase and the doubtful privilege of unbroken ease, turns her accomplishments into a means of support for her aged father; these, and such as these, reveal in new circumstances new graces--graces that are sturdy virtues, that shine with an unborrowed splendor, and are beautiful in the sight of Heaven. There has been no humiliation in all this; the brave toilers have made the worst drudgery sublime, and they have risen to a grander dignity than all the world’s worth could confer. Their friends and neighbors may have considered it misfortune, and may call it the Valley of Humiliation; yet though, like Christian, they have met an Aponyon there, they, too, have seen visions of angels, and lifted their voices in happy song. Ah! there are compensations even in this world of which we little dream, and God sets one thing, and often a better thing, over against another in human life. Riches fly, but character is developed; we are compelled to work, and out of work spring our truest joys. Our life is paradoxical but without contradictions; we are made the least that we may become the greatest; and the way down is, with God as guide, always the road to exaltation." (The Beautiful Gleaner. By Rev. William Braden, pp. 52, 53) But although the change in Ruth’s circumstances here was from comfort to penury, I cannot help adding that there is a similar revealing power, so far as character is concerned, in a sudden rise from poverty to affluence. Sometimes that, as in the case of Hazael, has shown a hard, ambitious cruelty in a man, in whom the existence of such a disposition was never even suspected. The getting has developed selfishness rather than liberality, and the possession of power has given opportunity for its arbitrary exercise. Then again, in others it has seemed to sweeten them, and to bring out kindliness. It all depends on the character of the person to begin with, and that again depends on the relationship between him and God in Christ. So, if we would be prepared for anything that God’s providence may bring us; if we would not be injured in that which is our truest self, either by sudden prosperity or by unexpected misfortune, we need to look well to our piety; we need to cultivate close and intimate fellowship with God; we need to have the equalizing influence within us of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit; we need, in one expressive phrase, to have the soul ballasted with Christ, and then no sudden squall or change of wind, whether from affluence to poverty or from poverty to affluence, will endanger or submerge us. Either prosperity or adversity will capsize us without Him, but with Him in the boat beside us we are always safe. But now in the second place let us see in the fellowship between Boaz and his reapers, a fingerpost pointing to the true solution of all difficulties between employers and employed. We have heard and read a great deal on that subject in these recent days. Indeed, little else has been discussed among us of late, either in the newspapers or in private conversation or in public discourse. For the present, indeed, we have reason to congratulate ourselves that the premature explosion of that bomb in Chicago (This discourse was delivered not long after the riot in Chicago, for which the Anarchists were tried) has opened the eyes of the community to the danger that is involved to our property and civilization from the occurrence of such troubles, and unified the sentiment of the nation as to the manner in which that kind of warfare is to be dealt with. But the real question lies back behind the violence to which all strikes seem to be near of kin; and the anarchism which in all our large cities is so ready to take advantage, for its own infamous purposes, of any disorder that may arise and for which the working-men, as a class, are not to be held responsible. The real question is this: How may the state of feeling between employers and employed, which is so apt to break out into open antagonism, be removed and permanently made impossible? Why is it that every little difference between them as to wages or hours of labor leads on to strikes and bitter estrangement? How comes it that the labor atmosphere is so explosive and electric? And what shall be done in the way of remedy? Now when--apart from recent provoking manifestations, which, for the time being, have tended to prejudice many against the working-men--we look at this problem, we shall find that there have been faults on both sides. If they have not been as courteous to their employers as his reapers were to Boaz, neither have their employers always been as courteous to them as Boaz was to his reapers. And if the employed have been utterly neglectful of the principles of political economy, their employers have not always remembered that political economy, though it be a real science, is not mechanics, and has to do not with machines, but men. It is true, indeed, that in recent strikes the cause of alienation has been the employment of men who for some reason--not touching either their character or efficiency have been distasteful to the majority of the workmen; and it is astonishing that men of intelligence do not see that interference of that sort is a flagrant infringement upon the liberty of other workmen to earn their bread as they can. It is surprising, too, that they do not realize that when they strike they terminate the contract between them and their employers, and so put themselves out of court altogether, and forfeit all right even to arbitration. Then as to the question of hours. It is not to be denied that the demand of ten hours’ wages for eight hours’ work is one which, in its blindness, either does not or will not perceive that it is as impossible to get that really in the long-run as it is to get five out of twice two. For even if the demand be acceded to, then, when things have adjusted themselves to the new state of matters thereby created, as they infallibly will do in a very short time, it will be found that they have simply added one-fifth to the price of everything which they have to buy, and that is the same as saying that the purchasing power of their wages--nominally the same in dollars and cents--will then be reduced by one-fifth. Really, that is substantially what they are bringing upon themselves--nay, what they are eagerly seeking, with all the added expense and danger of their strikes. Much, therefore, might be accomplished by spreading a little more widely among them the knowledge of these principles, which are as simple as the alphabet, but as inexorable as the law of gravitation. But still the question arises, How shall we heal the state of feeling out of which this habit of looking upon each other as natural enemies has grown up between employers and employed? Now, in answer, some have suggested arbitration; some have exhorted the working-men to make up for the want of capital in the hands of one by co-operation among themselves, so that they may become themselves competitors of the employers; and some have proposed that, by means like those suggested by Professor Ely, of Baltimore, the employed should be given a share of the profits of the employers, though that would be one-sided if they were not also called upon to make up a share of the losses --but, so far as I have seen, few have spoken about that. Now, of course, a great deal can be said in favor of such schemes as these; but for the present they all seem to me alike impracticable, because they all require for their successful operation a disposition towards each other which is radically different from that which has existed for a considerable time between them. If we had that changed, the problem would be more manageable. I am not sure, indeed, but that the simple changing of that would remove the problem altogether. But how are we to change that? How shall we remove all bitterness out of the hearts of employers towards their employed, and how shall we remove out of the hearts of the employed all envy of their employers? To that I have but one answer. The Lord Jesus Christ broke down the middle wall between Jews and Gentiles, and only He can reconcile--not superficially, but really and through and through--employers and employed. Boaz and his reapers belonged to the same commonwealth of Israel, and were heirs of the same covenant of promise. They were children of the same household of faith, and so they regarded each other as brethren. That was what kept this greeting from degenerating into a mere formality. That was what produced their mutual kindliness for each other. And in the same way, when employers and employed shall recognize their common brotherhood to Christ, and feel that in dealing with each other they are dealing with Christ, then and then only shall we get rid of that mutual suspicion of each other which is the soil wherein all these roots of bitterness spring up. I hear, therefore, in these labor troubles a new and louder call to the churches of our land to prosecute with vigor the work of home evangelization, not only among the working-people, but also among their employers. I emphasize that last clause, "but also among their employers," for they need it just as much as their workmen. It is common, I fear, to think that evangelization is required only for the masses of the employed, but that is a delusion. There are proportionately as many unbelievers in the gospel among the capitalists as there are among the laborers. I fear that, in proportion to the numbers of both, there are more, and, as a rule, employers are far too indifferent to the gospel. They are not sufficiently under its power, and perhaps the inkling of what atheistic socialism would do if it could, which these last weeks have given, may help to quicken them to a sense of the importance of their identifying themselves more thoroughly with Christ. But only in the meeting of both in Christ will the solvent -of this problem be found, and we must seek so to deal with both as to bring that about. For when that is reached there will be courtesy and kindliness in their intercourse. They will not be afraid of each other, neither will they be suspicious of each other, but they will love as brethren, and selfishness will cease to be the main-spring of their conduct. This has been demonstrated very clearly in the case of individual establishments. I have not heard of any strikes or bitterness at St. Johns-bury, Vermont, where masters and men are office-bearers in the same church, and brethren at the same communion-table. And that is by no means a solitary instance. Conversing not long ago with the president of a railway who had just been bereaved of his wife, I learned from him that some of the most touching letters which he had received at the time of his trial came from surface-men on the line. Wherever he had gone he had sought to show himself friendly to his men, and so they could not help expressing sympathy with him. Nothing approaching to any feeling of suspiciousness had ever come between them, and he has no fear of a strike among them. Give us this common Christianity between them, and we may trust that, either to prevent any differences or to settle them peacefully when they do arise. Nothing else will do it. But if you have that, any feasible plan will be workable. "He is our peace." Oh, when shall the different classes among us find out that? Come forth out of Thy royal chamber, O Thou living Christ! In the triumph of Thy love bring employer and employed together to Thy feet, that they may choose Thee for the great arbitrator between them, and Thy decisions, being founded in love as well as justice, shall be willingly accepted by them both.
I had intended to add a word on the beautiful prayer of Boaz for Ruth--" The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou hast come to trust "--but I must forbear. Let me only commend to you all the protection of these outspread wings. You must go to trust somewhere. You are now trusting in something. Whither have you gone? In what are you trusting? No wings but God’s can cover you in the time of trial and in the day of judgment. Therefore, get beneath them now. This is your opportunity. Get beneath them now, lest a day should come when He shall say, "How often would I have gathered thee as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not? Behold, now, your house is left unto you desolate."