Ruth 2

Ruth 2:2

Somebody’s Noticing It hath fully been shewed me, all that thou hast done. —Rth 2:2.What was it that Ruth had done that had been showed to Boaz? You remember the story. Elimelech, his wife Naomi, and their two boys had left Bethlehem and gone away into the land of Moab because there was a famine in their own land of Judah. Elimelech died in the foreign country, and his two sons, Mahlon and Chilion, married Orpah and Ruth, women of Moab. After a time Mahlon and Chilion died also, and Naomi, left without husband and children, made up her mind to return to her own land. Orpah and Ruth wished to accompany her, but Orpah was persuaded to turn back.

Ruth, however, refused to be parted from the lonely old woman, though following Naomi meant leaving her home and country and friends, and going among a strange people who would neither like her nor understand her. It was this story that had come to the ears of Boaz.When the two women arrived in Bethlehem it was the beginning of the barley harvest.

They were very poor and had no food, so Ruth made up her mind to go and work among the gleaners in the harvest; for the Jews had a law that the gleanings of the field—the stray ears that had not been gathered up—should be left for the poor and the stranger.I sometimes think Ruth was almost braver when she went out to glean that morning than when she decided to leave home and kinsfolk for Naomi’s sake. To begin with, she was mixing with the very poorest of the land, and Ruth had been brought up in a home of comfort and ease. Then she had hard work to do under the burning sun; and, worst of all, she was a foreigner and belonged to a race that were hated and despised by the Israelites. Her skin was dark, and her clothes were strange. The girls who were working in the field would laugh at her, the young men would make fun of her, everybody would stare and pass remarks.Now Ruth had chanced to choose the field of Boaz, who was a wealthy and much-thought-of man in Bethlehem, and a relation of her late husband. When Boaz came to the field to see how the reapers were getting on, he at once noticed the foreign woman, and asked who she was.

When he heard her name he remembered the story that had been told him of Ruth’s courage and unselfishness and devotion, and he gave orders that she should be respected, and treated with special kindness. Then Ruth fell at his feet and asked him why he had been so kind, and he told her the reason—“It hath fully been showed me, all that thou hast done unto thy mother in law since the death of thine husband: and how thou hast left thy father and thy mother, and the land of thy nativity, and art come unto a people which thou knewest not heretofore.”You know the end of the story—how Boaz married Ruth and how she became the mother of Obed, who was the grandfather of King David.I think there are two things we can learn from this story of Ruth; and the first thing is that the beauty that matters is beauty of character.It was Ruth’s beautiful character that attracted Boaz, not her beautiful face.

I think if Boaz had not heard what she had done, he would have taken no more notice of her. He would probably have given an order that she should be treated civilly, for he was a kind and courteous man, but he would not have singled her out for special kindness, and he would have gone home and forgotten all about her. We cannot all have beautiful faces; but we can all have beautiful souls. We cannot all be clever, or witty, or gifted; but we can all be faithful, and loving, and unselfish, as Ruth was; and that is of far more value.Remember there is an ugliness which spoils beauty. It doesn’t matter how pretty you are, if you are not beautiful within your character will soon be written on your face. The haughty look and curling lip of pride, the drooping mouth of discontent, the tight hard lips of selfishness, the scowl of anger—one or other will be seen on your face for anyone to read.And remember, too, that there is a beauty which shines through ugliness, which shines through it until it shines all the ugliness away.There was a little French girl once who was very plain-looking.

One day her mother said to her, “My dear, you are so ugly that no one will ever fall in love with you” Those words would have made some little girls hard and bitter, but they had quite the opposite effect on the little French girl. From that day she began very hard to think about other people.

She was always trying to make somebody happy—the children in the village, the servants in the house, even the very birds that hopped about the garden. Later she grew up and went out into society. Her goodwill and her unselfishness made her the idol of Paris. Great men and noble women loved her. She became a leader in society, and people forgot her plain looks because they loved her so much.And the other thing I want you to notice is the value of a good name. We are told that “A good name is better than precious ointment.” Take care of your good name. We never know who is taking notes. Ruth did not think she was doing anything specially virtuous that day she chose Naomi and exile and the God of Israel rather than home and comfort and the gods of Moab.

But people had noticed her self-sacrifice, and they talked about it. They had talked about it even when she thought they were despising her, and it had come to the ears of Boaz.Now, while it is very foolish always to be wondering what people are thinking of us, it is well to remember that the people who are worth minding value worth. The young men and women in the harvest field might laugh at Ruth, but Boaz, the brave and courteous, saw in her all that was noble and best in woman. And even when those around us do not value or understand us, God sees and knows, and if we are faithful in the work that He gives us to do, that is all that really matters.

Ruth 2:7

Gleaners Let me glean . . . and gather after the reapers among the sheaves.—Rth 2:7.There was a wonderful French painter called Millet. When he was a boy he was quite poor, his father being just what we in this country call a “crofter” When little Jean Millet sat down to dinner, it was at a very bare, homely table. But what did that matter? Jean had eyes that saw everything and he had a heart that loved those round about him. He saw old women gleaning in the harvest fields and he noticed that they looked tired and weary. And he noticed, too, that many field workers were very good and very reverent.

When the Angelus, or call for evening prayer, rang out across the fields Jean watched the men take off their caps and close their eyes as if they prayed, while the women bowed their heads and looked solemn. In course of time, Jean became an artist, and painted a famous picture called “The Angelus.” You must have seen a print of it: there are many of them all over the country.

He also painted another called “The Gleaners.” Those who visit country districts in France, and see the men and women working in the harvest fields, cannot help thinking of those two pictures of Millet’s, “The Angelus” and “The Gleaners” Through them the world has learnt to know and love the French peasantry.But, boys and girls, there are pictures that are not painted on canvas. There are pictures painted in words- and in the Book of Ruth you will find a beautiful word, picture of a gleaner. It is finer than Millet’s. Millet’s work may become old-fashioned; people may one day speak of him as belonging to a past age. But the Bible picture of “Ruth the Gleaner” will be admired and loved as long as time lasts.Gleaners had a real place in the Jewish harvest field. In our country, they would be spoken to sharply, and sent home.

But there was an old Hebrew law about gleaning. Listen while I read it. “When ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleaning of thy harvest: thou shalt leave them for the poor, and for the stranger. . . .

When thou reapest thine harvest in thy field, and hast forgot a sheaf in the field, thou shalt not go again to find 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.”Ruth took her place among the poor and the strangers, the widowed and the orphaned in the fields of yellow barley.She had to find food for herself and her old mother-in-law, Naomi, and as she had not the money to buy it she went bravely and humbly to gather the stray ears which the reapers left. And Boaz, the master of the field, who had heard of Ruth’s splendid devotion to her mother-in-law, arranged that Ruth’s gleanings should be many. He commanded the harvesters to let her glean among the standing sheaves. He even told them to drop intentionally some extra ears of corn where she might pick them up.You can picture the scene, can’t you? There is a wonderful poem written by Keats to a nightingale, and in it he gives us his idea of that picture. He thinks of Ruth as listening to the nightingale while she gleans.

Here is what he says:Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!No hungry generations tread thee down;The voice I hear this passing night was heardIn ancient days by emperor and clown:Perhaps the self-same song that found a pathThrough the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,She stood in tears amid the alien corn. (Keats, “Ode to a Nightingale.”)You see Keats pictured Ruth shedding tears of homesickness at the song of the sweet-throated bird. But I think that if Ruth shed tears at all that day they were tears of joy, tears of gratitude and thankfulness.“Ruth, the Gleaner,” is an old time story.

But during these September days, I hope many of you may have an opportunity of being in a harvest field. There is no fun like the fun of playing among the “stooks.” Long ago, how we used to love to hear the swish of the scythe, and watch the women gathering the corn, and binding the sheaves. You will not, I fear, see a real gleaner like Ruth. The gleaner in the field you visit will probably be just a boy with a big rake.Take a good look at that boy. It may be worth your while. Underneath his silence there may be much that is worth copying. If a big person asked a Scottish “rake” how he liked his work, the answer would probably be as curt as “Fine.” But the memory of not a few Scottish farm boys has come to be sacred. I knew one who became a great scholar.

While he raked silently—for he rarely spoke—his mind was on his “version,” and when he dreamed dreams—which he sometimes did—they were of going one day to the University.“That is all very fine and fanciful,” some boy here may be saying, “but I live in a city tenement, I never see the harvest fields.” Let me tell you of a boy gleaner who never saw them either, a boy whose home was in a top flat. His name was Jim. He attended Sunday School, and one day the teacher put a question the answer to which involved the mention of an obscure classical character. To her surprise Jim answered correctly. “How did you come to know that?” she asked. “Please,” he said, “they were taking in coals to the Academy; I followed the carts, and gathered up all the loose leaves in the yards and read them at home.” Jim was a gleaner, and a good one.And there was a little Italian fellow, called Michael. His father was a stone-cutter. The first sounds Michael knew were the ring of a hammer, and the working of the chisel in the quarries.

He was not a clever scholar. He just kept scribbling everything over with drawings.

His father was disappointed and whipped the boy for spoiling the white-washed walls of the house. But whippings did no good. Michael went back to his drawings; he thought it was worth while suffering pain, so long as he could get on. He had made a great friend—a boy about his own age, who was learning to be an artist, and whose father had plenty of money. His name was Francesco. Every morning Francesco brought to Michael designs borrowed from his master’s studio, and these Michael copied. He made wonderful progress, and in course of time became the great Michael Angelo. But I feel sure that he looked back to those days when he “gleaned” as being very happy days indeed.In Lanarkshire there was born into a humble home, a boy who was named David.

His father’s name was Neil Livingstone. When David was quite little, he used to help his mother in the house. He did not quite like this work, and made it a condition that the house door should be kept shut so that the people passing might not see him working. At ten years of age he was sent to work in a factory. With his first earned money, he bought an old Latin Grammar. He propped it up on the back of his spinning frame, and as he went backwards and forwards he learnt little bits by heart. That was “gleaning.” I daresay you have guessed who that boy was. He became the great missionary, David Livingstone.Boys and girls, this world is a wonderful harvest field.

The little flowers! Can’t we glean their sweetness? Can’t we learn their names? There are men and women, as well as boys and girls, who glean constantly, and in ever so many different fields. They get to know a great deal, yet they themselves feel that they are but beginning to learn. Gleaning is work that makes one feel very happy. I can imagine how Ruth and Naomi would, at the end of the first day’s work, thank God for His goodness.When you go back to school you go to glean in a harvest field. Great reapers have been in front of you, and have left many sheaves.

You surely will not throw away your splendid opportunities. And lying before you are the sheaves left by those who most of all wanted to know about God and His Son, Jesus Christ. Boys and girls, will you, along with your school work, try every day to glean a little knowledge of Jesus Christ. If you do, you will grow to be men and women who make the world better.