Ruth and the Sense of Self: Midrash and Difference.
THE DANGER WITH WELL-KNOWN STORIES IS THAT WE read the narrative we have come to expect, instead of what is actually written in the text. So it is with the Book of Ruth: we are all familiar with the story of the widowed stranger who loyally follows her bereft mother-in-law to find happiness and acceptance in a strange land, and becomes the matriarch of the Davidic dynasty. In this traditional recapitulation, the Book of Ruth nicely fits the romantic "stranger at the gates" typology whose happy ending harmonizes with the dominant notions of what is deemed correct by society at large. Alternatively, more contemporary approaches to Ruth focus on the traditional role of women in a patriarchal society, whose existences are validated only insofar as they strengthen the patrilineal links on which that society is founded. [1]Both versions of the narrative exist within the Book of Ruth. While on the surface these two accounts of Ruth seem to have little in common, further investigation reveals that their essential grasp of the subject matter is the same. That is to say, both these versions of the Book of Ruth view that work as centrally bereft of any real crisis or tension [2] because in either case, women are portrayed as unquestioningly fulfilling a preordained role. In addition, both of these approaches are alike in neglecting a major portion of this book. I argue instead that far from being a book that merely reflects a calm and settled philosophy of life, the Book of Ruth is in fact filled with unsettling questions. The dissonance that exists in the Book of Ruth is not (just) the result of the dramatic tension concerning the extent to which Ruth may or may not find personal and/or financial security. Rather, the tension in the Book of Ruth derives from the consideration of a philosophical question: how to actualize a sense o f self while living a religiously-directed life. Ruth focuses on the sustained philosophical search by its protagonist for a coherent understanding of selfhood that can include both self-affirmation and other-directed giving.
The implications of this quest touch on both external (social) and internal (philosophic) aspects of contemporary Judean life. This search presents a trenchant critique of the contemporary Judean society that did not fulfill its mandated ethical responsibilities as well as an assessment of the value of difference within that community to foster the creation of a dynamic national life. I concentrate first on the Book of Ruth's critique of contemporary Judean society and then examine Ruth's own argument regarding moral responsibility in the context of a valuation of individual difference as central both to the construction of selfhood and to vigorous national existence.
Ruth as Social Critique
The first verse of the Book of Ruth appears merely to locate the story in a specific historical context: the time of the Judges in the Land of Israel. Two comments in other books reveal that this was not considered the most morally auspicious period in Jewish history. A brief comment at the beginning of I Samuel points to the corruption in the higher circles of religious leadership. [3] In a similar vein, the Book of Judges ends on an ominous note: "each man would do what was right in his own eyes" (Judges 21:25). As the context of this remark is the story of the multiply-raped and murdered woman in Gibeah whose severed body is sent throughout Israel, which event subsequently provokes a bloody civil war, the sarcasm and irony of this phrase leads us to conclude that this period is one of moral chaos.
The moral clues given by the textual identification of the historical period are further expanded upon in a literary analysis of the first verse of Ruth offered by the Midrashic compilation Ruth Rabbah. [4] Focusing on the repetition of verbs [5] in a normally laconic text, [6] the Midrash gives a negative evaluation of the judges in Israel during that period. These judges were themselves judged by the people over whom they were supposed to render judgment. According to the Midrashic reading, these judges deserved to have their authority and dignity so questioned because they themselves did not possess the moral rectitude required of the positions that they held. The dominant theme in the Midrashic elaboration of the failures of the judges is that they proclaimed laws that they themselves did not keep. Their hypocrisy extended to the perversion of the legal system that they were supposed to uphold. In the words of the Midrash, "a judge would sit and proclaim, 'you shall not pervert judgment'--and he himself would pervert judgment; 'you shall not judge with favoritism'--and he himself would render judgment with favoritism; 'you shall not take bribes'--and he himself would take bribes." [7] The consequences of this have a terrible logic of their own: the Israelite people would trivialize the importance of the law, to the point of visiting violence upon a judge who did not render the expected verdict. [8]
The attitudes described here reveal a profound alienation between the people and its leaders. The leaders do not even pray for--or, presumably, even care about--the people when they are in need. [9] To be sure, the leaders' attitudes do no more than reflect the self-centeredness of the people themselves. The Midrash locates the roots of this selfishness in the people early in Israelite history, at the death of Joshua during the settlement process of the Land of Israel. Despite Joshua's central role in the realization of the Israelites' agrarian dreams, the Midrash reports that the Israelite people found no time to give their leader a proper burial, because they were too involved in their agricultural pursuits. [10] Alienation worked both ways and it left the people and their leaders estranged at all levels.
Following that indictment, the Midrash understands the second half of the verse--recounting the famine that came upon the Land of Israel--as the outcome of the moral schizophrenia described in the first half of the verse. Significantly we find a tangible realization of this moral inadequacy that impacts directly on the events of our narrative even before the end of the first verse. Consonant with the alienation of the leaders from their people, we read that one of these leaders [11] leaves the famine-struck Land of Israel and takes himself to the neighboring (and presumably more fruitful) fields of Moab. In a time of inadequate moral achievement on the part of the juridical leaders of Israel, one of those leaders carries this lack of moral sensitivity to new lows: he abandons his people to their fate. [12]
As reported via the Midrash on the Book of Ruth, the sin of Elimelech is the sin of not caring. Leader of a generation, in whose person the hopes of the people reposed, he chooses to reject that responsibility and to seek only his own personal benefit. It is no accident that he winds up in the fields of Moab, whose founder is described in the Bible as the son of Lot conceived in an incestuous relationship after Lot's flight from the destruction of Sodom. [13] The very name of Sodom carries multiple connotations of a culture of inhospitality and moral indifference that degenerates into social oppression. [14] Although Lot himself continues while in Sodom to adhere to the Abrahamitic vision of kindness and open-heartedness even to strangers, his subsequent (incestuous) behavior indicates that his sojourn in Sodom had left negative traces on his character. [15] Elimelech's choice of Moab as the location to wait out the famine in Israel thus acquires an aura of both moral indifference and acquiescence to sin, a foreboding borne out by the fact that soon after his death, his own sons manifest their own indifference to the Israelite prohibition of marrying outsiders by marrying Moabite women.
The first four verses of the Book of Ruth thereby condemn the Israelite judges of the time not only in terms of the fulfillment of their professional roles, but also in terms of the personal choices they make. Not surprisingly, as exemplified by Elimelech's family, these judges prove incapable of transmitting the values and beliefs for which they stand--perhaps because indeed they do not really at all accept these elements of their faith. In this context, the wide rift between the people and their leaders bodes ill for the future of the Israelites, particularly in terms of their ethical function as a dynamic moral force in the world at large. The opening verses of Ruth depict a world of stasis degenerating into moral chaos. On both a personal and artistic level, the moral and dynamic nihilism of this world is reflected in the physical disintegration of the family that had, a few short years before, entered the fields of Moab.
At this point, the text appears to abandon its theme of wider social critique and focus just on the plight of Ruth and Naomi, the two refugees returning to Beth-Lehem. However, just below the surface of the story, this theme manifests itself once again at a crucial juncture of the tale. When Naomi and Ruth return to Beth-Lehem, they find that one of them is no longer recognized, [16] and the other is virtually ignored. It is through the person of Ruth that the enduring inhospitality--the rooted lack of lovingkindness--of thejudean people is demonstrated. Although the people themselves are no longer caught in the throes of famine, they still have not learned the lessons of kindness and consideration whose absence, at least according to the Midrashic reading, had prompted the famine in the first place. [17] To be absolutely fair to the people, this lesson had not been absorbed entirely by their leadership either. This is highlighted by Boaz's reaction--or complete lack thereof--to the news that his kinswoman N aomi had just come back from Moab. [18] The argument has been made that Boaz's aloofness is due less to a lack of sympathy for the plight of these women than to a prudent sense of (political) self-preservation. In order to appreciate this point, it is important to remember that the acceptance of a Moabite person into the Judean community posed a particular problem in view of the Deuteronomic prohibition of accepting either Amonites or Moabites into the Israelite community. [19] However, it is worth noting that the Book of Ruth hastens to describe Boaz as a "man of valor," which is actually a verbal play on Boaz's own name. [20] This attribute connotes a certain level of intellectual sophistication, coupled with a fearless search for truth. In this case, the matter of Ruth's Moabite identity was to prove irrelevant regarding her acceptability within the Jewish community; with his intellectual sophistication, Boaz would discern that the precept forbidding Moabites to be included in the Israelite community refer red only to the male Moabites, not the female ones. As such, Boaz's neglect of his kinswoman Naomi reflects not just simple unawareness of her predicament but rather a deep desire not to get involved in complex legal issues that were likely to generate social controversy. However, history reveals that this attitude is a sign not of leadership but rather of moral cowardice; significantly, later in Israelite history, this justifies removing the mantle of sovereignty from the first king of Israel. [21] Excessive fear of public opinion may seem like deep reverence for the people, but often can mask a deep-seated lack of concern for their true welfare--the very same alienation with which the story of Ruth opens. Ironically, it is Ruth the Moabite who presents the Judean community (and her audience throughout the ages) with a paradigm of kindness and consideration that respects the individuality of the person proffering the consideration while yet not reifying the person or the community on whose behalf the good de ed is done. As we will see in the following section, Ruth demonstrates the ability to give to another person while retaining her own sense of moral vision. Ruth never confuses valorization of the other with abnegation of self. It is to an analysis of Ruth's actions that we now turn.
Ruth, Kindness, and the Development of Self
Ruth has come to exemplify the epitome of kindness and consideration--khesed, the epithet used to describe her actions most often in the pages of the Book of Ruth, is best translated as (loving)kindness and consideration. This term is doubly striking, considering both her nation of origin and the community to which she journeys. As noted before, Ruth's roots lie in a nation whose male ancestor chooses to live in Sodom, a city that distinguished itself most by its inhospitability to strangers. It is significant that one of the stories through which the Talmud chooses to highlight Sodomite cruelty to strangers focuses not just on the refusal to host and feed hungry wayfarers, but also concerns the specifics of their treatment. The final act of barbarity would occur when ostensibly offering them lodging for the night: strangers deemed too tall for the chosen bed would have their legs cut off, while the limbs of short wayfarers would be forcibly stretched. [22] It is no accident that the citizens of Sodom reveal their homicidal cruelty in their inability to accept difference for, as we will see, the ability to integrate difference into the national texture is the lesson that Ruth teaches the Judean society of her time. It is this experience and understanding that enables her to found the royal Judean dynasty.
It is possible to argue that Lot's choice of urban residence should not by itself reflect negatively on the moral character of his descendants: after all, the Biblical text testifies to his own solicitous consideration for the two strangers who come to his door. Nevertheless, the Biblical text also reveals how Lot's excessive solicitude for his guests collapses into moral disorder, as he unhesitatingly offers his own daughters to the townspeople of Sodom for their own pleasure in return for allowing his guests to remain unmolested. [23] The climate of Sodom seems to provoke a moral degeneration in Lot to the extent that paradoxically, he fetishizes his own hospitality towards his guests, valuing their comfort over the moral integrity of his own daughters. Seen in that light, it is no wonder that in the caves outside of Zoar, [24] his daughters similarly do not allow their father to retain control of his own body and moral autonomy. [25] Ultimately, the story of Lot proves that both extremes--the utter lack o f loving kindness, as well as the undifferentiated practice of generosity--lead to moral indifference.
Viewed in that light, Ruth's Moabite origins serve not to morally disadvantage her implicit and explicit critique of the Judean society of her time. On the contrary, they privilege her moral standpoint. This is because Ruth's position as multiple outsider--as a Moabite married to a Jew, lacking a secure place either in her native society or in Israelite society; as a widow in a world dominated by patriarchy--may render Ruth temporarily mute, but paradoxically, it sharpens the acuity of her (moral) vision. Ruth's journey on the road and her consequent liminality [26] enable Ruth to see the deficiencies not only in the principles of Moabite social organization, but inherent also in the Judean social arrangements. Still, in attempting to chart her way within a society whose written rules are unfamiliar to her and whose unwritten cultural norms she has no way of grasping, Ruth is able to resist blindly following the (well-meant) instructions of her mother-in-law. Instead, Ruth evolves her own distinctive sense o f moral rectitude and in so doing, formulates a new way of understanding the self in both its individual and social incarnations.
This last point about Ruth does not fit in with the commonly-understood tone of the book, either in its traditional (Ruth as obedient daughter-in-law) or its more modern (Ruth and Naomi as forging a united approach to deal with a patriarchal society) [27] interpretations. Careful reading of the text, however, makes this point amply evident. This comes to the fore in the first extended speech that Ruth makes, attesting to her undying personal devotion to Naomi and her religious fealty to Naomi's God. In those sentences, Ruth does not, as is commonly supposed, promise that she will always do exactly as Naomi bids. This becomes clear when one considers the exact phraseology in the text. Ruth says, "I will go where you go." [28] Significantly, Ruth does not say "I will go in the path that you go" or "I will do exactly what you do." Instead, Ruth affirms that she will always do what is (ethically and religiously) demanded of her, but will utilize methodologies consonant with her own judgment.
This point is more than a literary nicety, because it changes the practical outcome of the whole story. We see that throughout their relationship, Ruth takes it upon herself to alter Naomi's instructions when her own good sense tells her that Naomi's advice does not represent the best available option. In fact, upon their return to Judea, Naomi, sunk in bitterness, offers no advice to Ruth on how to go about the search for food. It is Ruth who is the one that takes the initiative, and proposes that she go out to the fields to glean. This suggestion requires a considerable imaginative leap on Ruth's part. The commandments mandating reserving forgotten stalks in the field, stalks fallen from the gleaner's basket and a corner of the field, all for harvesting by the poor, significantly differentiated Jewish agricultural practice at that time from that of the rest of the world. Surprisingly, Ruth, a new convert, is able to understand this new way of viewing ownership and social responsibility and apply it to her own situation when her own mother-in-law, well-versed in the law, makes no such suggestion on her own. Moreover Ruth goes about choosing the field in which she will glean in a highly original way. The text highlights this by unleashing a plethora of action verbs denoting Ruth's quick and decisive activity. [29] Commenting on this, the Midrash reads into Ruth's activity a conscious decision on her part to scout out the safest routes to the fields in which she would glean, being aware of her vulnerable status as an unaccompanied female of foreign origin. This same sensitivity informs her response to Naomi's instructions to her after the harvesting season is over, when Naomi advises Ruth to go down to the threshing floor and make Boaz aware of her situation and of her interest in a proper marriage with children. Naomi's instructions to Ruth are for her to wash, anoint herself, and put on her best garments. [30] Ruth answers her that she will do what she tells her, but Ruth inverts the order of operations. The te xt notes that she goes down to the granary (3:6), and only once there does she perform all the other preparations suggested by Naomi. Why the change? Because Ruth was sensitive to the possibilities of going out at night all dressed up, and she worried that perhaps she would be the object of immoral attacks by lascivious people. [31] Ruth exhibits character traits that perhaps might be considered antithetical to each other: independence in her religious choice which leads her to leave her homeland, combined with the traditional "female" fears of the potential molester, making her afraid to go out alone at night. In truth, however, this unexpected combination of sentiments manifests precisely the pioneering spirit that leads the text to identify Ruth as the founding matriarch of the Judean royal dynasty. Ruth independently chooses a new nation and a new religion with which to affiliate without depriving herself of her own sense of moral choice. Practically and philosophically, Ruth charts her own course. In so doing, she also prepares the path for the deliverance of her adopted nation.
Ruth and Redemption
In a short book that appears to concentrate improbably on the fate of one widowed convert uprooted from her native land, it appears strange that one entire chapter is devoted to what seems like an archaic legalism: the question of the redemption of the field belonging to Naomi, along with the concomitant responsibility of the redeemer to marry Ruth. Modern interpreters tend to see this portion of the text as a diversion from the central (romantic/personal) interest of the story line that attests to the ingrained patriarchalism of ancient Judean society. [32] Assessing what appears to be an extended example of levirate marriage, [33] modern commentators are quick to point out the relegation of the woman to just the personification of her reproductive powers in order to ensure the continued name for her dead husband. [34]
A careful examination of the text, however, reveals that levirate marriage is never the issue at all in Ruth because the required circumstances that obligate the levirate marriage do not obtain in this case. The obligation of levirate marriage occurs only when there are male siblings of the childless deceased male who are in a position to marry the childless widowed sister-in-law. In the case presented in the Book of Ruth, Naomi herself bitterly remarks that in that context, she has nothing more to offer. [35] Moreover, the ceremony undergone by "Ploni Almoni" in the fourth chapter bears no resemblance to the Chalitzah ceremony mandated when the brother of the deceased refuses to accept the obligation of levirate marriage. [36] Unnoticed for the most part is that the text does name the ceremony of transmission between Boaz and Ploni Almoni, which is "Ge'ulah." In fact, throughout the fourth chapter, Ploni Almoni is identified by the term "go'el," or redeemer. The reference is not fully explained within the B ook of Ruth, but its relevance becomes clear when the antecedent law regarding "redemption" of land is consulted. This law mandates the voluntary acquisition on the part of a wealthier relative of land that an impoverished relative is forced to sell, in order to prevent the diminution of the family land-holding in the Holy Land. [37]
It is important to note that the recommended purchase on the part of the wealthier relative is voluntary. Unlike the refusal to commit to levirate marriage, which is allowed but which leaves a mark of shame on the recalcitrant brother-in-law, [38] the refusal to salvage a portion of family-owned property that would otherwise be sold to buyers outside of the clan is simply taken as a given of harsh economic reality: in any case, Biblical law provides that all land returns to its original owners during the Jubilee year. [39] No negative feeling accrues to the person who, for whatever reason, is unable to extend to his relative that measure of economic help. Thus, when Ploni Almoni refuses to marry Ruth because he fears that any children born of his union with her would serve to dilute the land-inheritance that in that case would have to be divided between all of his children, [40] his refusal is accepted without demur. It would seem to be the conclusion of the book, and of Judean society at that time, that one can live a life of sufficient moral goodness-the "good-enough life"--without engaging in acts of redemption. Apparently, it is acceptable to refuse to be a redeemer.
But that is not the type of life that Ruth is interested in leading. It is not happenstance that marriage to Ruth is described by Boaz as redemptive: [41] by the end of the book Boaz has come to recognize in Ruth the redemptive aspects of kindness and self that she exemplifies and that he wants to incorporate into his own life. Boaz is one character in the book, who develops from a leader unwilling to disturb the status quo by involving himself in complex legal issues, to a person who is willing to take upon himself an extra measure of responsibility to achieve what he considers to be a morally worthwhile goal. In fact, that is hinted in the makeup of his name, which can be read as a compound of two words--"Boaz--bo 'oz--in him there is strength." Boaz has the strength to change and to admit that Ruth's moral vision is the one to follow. "Your last kindness is greater than your first one," he tells her. [42]
Boaz has come to recognize that true kindness is not merely doing inconsequential favors to people in order to make one's own life easier. Rather, Boaz admires the qualities of intellectual choice and moral discernment that Ruth brings to her acts of kindness. In the granary at night, Boaz understands what really drives Ruth. It cannot be the opportunity just to marry because, as Boaz notes, there are many younger men with whom Ruth could anticipate an easier and more fruitful married life. [43] Boaz is alive to the fact that Ruth is making her choice based on moral characteristics, not personal issues.
Ruth has come to appreciate Boaz as a person who is willing to grow and to live according to the best moral standard available, instead of limiting oneself just to a "morally acceptable" life. In understanding Ruth's real motivation, and the qualities of mind that she brings to bear on her own moral choices, Boaz proves himself worthy of helping to bring the Davidic ancestry into the world. Spurred by Ruth's example, Boaz's moral growth is reflected in the blessings heaped upon him by the women of Beth-Lehem, who somewhat incongruously bless him with the wish that his marriage be like the union of Judah and Tamar. [44] This seemingly inapposite conflation of historical couples becomes clearer when we remember that Judah's mark of moral distinction in publicly admitting Tamar's ethical superiority comes about as a result of his relationship with Tamar, a seemingly discredited outsider. [45] It is not happenstance that in both cases, the acknowledgment of the women's higher moral purposes in apparently risqu6 circumstances--by Judah in the case of Tamar disguised as a harlot, and by Boaz in the face of Ruth's presence in the granary at night-leads to the justification of the future acquisition of power by their heirs. Judah's action is validated by Jacob on his deathbed, [46] and the end of the Book of Ruth testifies to the establishment of the Davidic dynasty through the combined agency of Ruth and Boaz.
Ruth's status as outsider heralds her ability to focus on a principle of moral activity of which even her mother-in-law is unaware. This is brought to the fore by a seemingly chance remark that Naomi makes at the beginning of the book. At that point, ready to depart the fields of Moab, she urges her daughters-in-law to remain in the land of their birth. [47] Naomi's wish for her daughters-in-law is that they find peace/repose (the Hebrew term is "menucha"). While Ruth does accompany Naomi and volunteers to convert to her religion, promising (in the qualified sense that we have elaborated above) to be guided by her mother-in-law, Ruth does not join Naomi in seeking the easy way out. In fact, the one constant in all of Ruth's choices is that she never seeks menucha. This is borne out by the fact that she later chooses to marry Boaz, which in terms of her own personal ease, is a counterintuitive choice. Ruth understands that the moral challenge of life requires precisely the opposite of repose. [48] It is no ac cident that Ruth names her son Oved--a dynamic name emphasizing work, activity, accomplishment. For a life to be morally well-lived, one must search for meaningful experiences and actions that permit and demand growth. Ruth's life follows this path of action.
In casting its mark of approval on Ruth's conception of this moral imperative, the Midrash imputes to God a celebratory comment, describing God as so impressed by Ruth's morally conceived activities that He Himself decides to crown her efforts with success by speeding the process of Boaz's and Ruth's marriage. [49]
Ruth and Difference
The generational information that composes the last verses of Ruth does more than close the book with the type of statement with which it began: the nature of political rule in the Land of Israel. [50] In addition, by highlighting the genesis of the Davidic dynasty, Ruth points out the necessity to acknowledge and respect difference in order to ensure moral and political dynamism in the life of a nation.
As we have seen, Ruth comes from a foreign, even alien, culture to take up her position at the center of Judean society. A scion of a man who had chosen to leave Abraham and go his own way, [51] Ruth chooses to go back to that self-same society and winds up generating the dynastic line that under David's rule would unite all the Israelites in one political unit. But, as noted above, Ruth does not return as a humble penitent intent on abolishing her own past. She retains of her past what she deems useful, integrating it into the moral worldview of the Israelite nation that she longs to join.
The Midrash takes cognizance of this point in a pithy comment [52] that points out the dubious provenance of the esteemed King David. In valorizing the somewhat questionable roots of one of Israel's most accomplished monarchs, the Midrash acknowledges that the roots of a leader who can unify his/her nation cannot be totally homogeneous but must also partake of some outside cultural influence as well ifs/he is to successfully accomplish his/her task. Why is that the case? Perhaps because the ultimate realization of potential on both the national and personal levels cannot result from just one uniform mode of living.
The liberation of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt had similarly taken place under the aegis of Moses, a leader who was raised not just in a royal palace, but at the royal court of a nation bent on the annihilation of the very Israelites that Moses would later help to liberate. While this seems logically counterintuitive, its broader sense of moral fitness becomes apparent when one reflects that a revolutionary leader cannot be successful if steeped in a slave mentality. [53] The most effective combatant against a particular national ideology (for example, the Egyptian plans for genocide) is a person who has become familiar with both its strengths and its weaknesses from childhood on.
A similar point is made in the narrative of the Book of Ruth. Ruth demonstrates that human beings are too complex to be successfully united under just one manner of incorporation. Ruth utilizes the concept of difference to transform the potentially destructive tension that can exist between the self and the social and political community, into a relationship characterized by a dialectical understanding of the fruitful implications of contradiction and difference. Ruth insists that national life must be multifaceted--broad enough to be inclusive but discerning enough to know where to place moral limits. God finds (the beginning of) King David at Sodom: the roots of the Davidic dynasty begin in moral chaos, but they do not remain there. They evolve over time until they exemplify the highest synthesis of the moral core for the leadership of the Israelite nation. Contradiction lies at the core of all fruitful growth.
But contradiction can also prove troublesome. While Ruth acknowledges the political utility of difference, it also points out the practical difficulties in its incorporation--which also allows us to think more tolerantly about the difficulties the Beth-Lehemites evince in accepting Ruth. Difference is hard to integrate. Difference can even look like evil. It is not clear, at least at first, that accepting difference is the right path to follow. Thus, it is not obvious to the people of BethLehem that accepting a Moabite woman into their society was within the bounds of the code of Biblical law by which they lived. [54] Not every difference is automatically included (as the Biblical prohibition againstinclusion of the Moabites testifies), but not every difference is automatically excluded, either. Difference is not an indicator of a discrete moral quantity to be unthinkingly applied to life's decisions as one automatically plugs numbers into a mathematical formula.
The complexity of finding a moral standard for living is dealt with in Midrashic literature in the context of trying to establish the moral basis for the creation of humankind. In the Midrashic retelling, this question is exemplified as the struggle between Kindness (Khesed) and Truth (Emet), with each side respectively expressing reasons for and against the proposed creation. As the Midrash presents this dilemma, no completely convincing moral argument can be found to support the creation of humanity. At this point, God interjects Himself into the argument and "throws truth to the ground," allowing for the creation of humanity. [55] For the Midrash, human and social relations can exist only insofar as they incorporate lovingkindness. Human life cannot survive only on rational calculation.
While this Midrash presents truth and kindness as two irreconcilable concepts, Ruth demonstrates that they are inextricably bound up with each other. Boaz clarifies the matter of the inclusion of Moabite women only after he has met Ruth. Ruth fulfills her personal destiny and that of her new nation through the practice of discerning lovingkindness. Far from being polar opposites, truth and lovingkindness reveal themselves as two sides of the same coin. [56]
We have seen how Ruth always retains her own sense of ethical and moral hierarchy. Ruth never loses her distinctive voice. The sense of self that she retains has important implications on two levels. Morally, as we have noted, it enables her to newly define minimal and maximal notions on what a morally-fulfilled life entails. This allows Ruth to serve both as a critic of Judean society (the lack of welcome at her advent into Judah is an eerie reminder of the roots of the Moabite society that she had just left) and as a unifying moral force, embodying a concept of nation that is not relentlessly uniform but that expands to incorporate all levels of ethical achievement within it.
As the events of the Book of Ruth demonstrate, this inclusive approach allows for moral progress. Thus, we see how under Ruth's influence, Boaz's sense of moral responsibility expands. Politically, too, this inclusivity allows the Israelite nation to continue to exist as a dynamic entity, instead of causing its own death from the inside by restricting membership to those people who are clones of each other. In that context, we have noted that the less-than-perfect examples of moral accomplishment still retain their place within the Israelite nation. "Ploni Almoni" is no less a member of Judean society for having refused to fulfill an elevated understanding of his moral responsibilities. Even the accepted arbiters of Judean society--personified most obviously as the women of Beth-Lehem--are not ostracized because of their failure to welcome a stranger in their midst. Let us recall that even at the end of the narrative, there is no direct evidence of their acceptance of Ruth except as they bless Boaz on his fo rthcoming marriage and congratulate Naomi on her unanticipated progeny. [57] Still, they too remain part and parcel of judean society. The Book of Ruth demonstrates that the hallmark of a vibrant nation is the ability to include all manner of people and all variations of accomplishment within its circle. It is this realization, engendered by the moral discernment of Ruth herself, that prepares Ruth to become the matriarch of the first national Israelite leadership: the Davidic dynasty. [58]
It is a hallmark of the Book of Ruth's relevance for today's postmodern era of questioning and doubt to point out that the book does not, as it is commonly interpreted, end with a "fairy-tale" resolution. Despite its simple, even childlike, tone, Ruth is seriously misunderstood on both the narrative and ethical levels if it is read as just a morality tale of goodness rewarded and all wrongs righted. At one level, of course, the conventional understanding of the narrative does hold true to the extent that Ruth does many a prominent man and does become the "Mother of kings." A closer look, however, reveals that the resolution of Ruth's personal story is not quite so simplistic. The historical identity of Boaz with Ivzan [59] indicates that Boaz is quite old when he marries Ruth: indeed, the lack of further reference to him once the marriage is consummated leads the Midrash to opine that he dies shortly after the ceremony. [60] In any case, Ruth is not "rewarded" for her "goodness" in the way that such rewards are normally understood as "tit-for-tat" exchanges with God, based on the economic model of social relations. [61] Given the fact that Ruth is left a widow once again, and that her journey to Judah does not raise her social standing, [62] it is difficult to read the Book of Ruth as promoting the understanding of God as a kind of super accountant of the moral sphere. The story of Ruth demonstrates that moral comprehension must go beyond that simplistic understanding if full human potential is to be realized. Living a fully-realized moral life is best done not for any expected reward but simply because it is the right thing to do.
On the ethical level as well, the moral discernment evinced by Ruth warns us against understanding the lovingkindness promoted by Ruth as simply another word for the self-abnegation traditionally expected of women in a patriarchal society. [63] Although Ruth functions within such a society, her actions clearly demonstrate that the highest form of kindness vis-a-vis other people is that which gives full expression to one's own sense of what is morally just. In other words, a "self" must exist before one can give of that self to other people. To be sure, there is a fine line between a God-driven sense of self, and a selfishly-motivated concept of individuality. It is in straddling this potential faultline between the two--utilizing contradiction not as an excuse for paralysis but as a method for impelling further growth--that the Book of Ruth challenges us to be the best person that we can be.
MIRA MORGENSTERN received her Ph.D. in Politics from Princeton University and teaches at Kingsborough (CUNY). She would like to thank the Memorial Foundation for Jewish Culture for its support for the research that led to this essay.
NOTES
(1.) See for example Alicia Ostriker, "The Redeeming of Ruth"; Gail Twersky Reimer, "Her Mother's House"; Nehama Aschkenasy, "Language as Female Empowerment in Ruth"; Mona DeKoven Fishbane: "Ruth: Dilemmas of Loyalty and Connection," in Reading Ruth. Contemporary Women Reclaim a Sacred Story, edited by Judith A. Kates and Gail Twersky Reimer (New York: Ballantine Books, 1994).
(2.) In summarizing contemporary critical appreciations of Ruth, Avivah Zornberg notes that for the modern reader, "[T]here doesn't seem to be a moment of crisis in the entire book" (Zornberg, "The Concealed Alternative" in Kates and Reimer, p. 66). This remark needs to be understood in its context. For my purposes, its overriding import is that while the modem reader may impute all sorts of tension to the inner lives of the protagonists, little of this is overtly demonstrated in the text.
(3.) "And the word of God was dear in those days: prophecy was not wide-spread" (I Samuel 3:1).
(4.) It should be noted that Ruth Rabbah is one of the older extant Midrashim and, like the Midrash Tanhuma, itself one of the earlier Midrashim, was compiled in Israel.
(5.) The reference here is to the repetition of the verb "to judge [sh'p't]" so that the normally laconic text reads "the time of the judging of the judges" instead of the more usual "the time of the judges."
(6.) See Erich Auerbach, Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature, translated from the German by Willard R. Trask (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1953), chapter 1, "Odysseus' Scar," esp. pp. 10--12.
(7.) "K'gon zaken yoshev v'doresh 'to tateh mishpat, 'v'hu mateh mishpat;' 'to takir panim, 'v'hu makir panim; 'to tikach shochad' v'hu lokeach shochad," Ruth Rabbah 1:2.
(8.) The Midrash insists that in their attitude to the law, the Israelite people were akin to their judges, and would willfully disregard unfavorable verdicts even to the point of physically attacking the judges ("b'ymai shfot ha'shoftim, haya 'adam b'Yisrael 'oved 'avodah zarah, v'haya haDayan mivakesh la'asot bo din, v'haya hu [i.e., the man being judged] ba u'malkeh ha Dayan," Ruth Rabbah Petichata 7).
(9.) In Ruth Rabbah, Petichata 5, we read a condemnation of this attitude. The Midrash unfavorably compares the leaders of the period of the Judges to Moses, who was ever-ready to defend his people even against God. (The words of the Midrash accuse the leaders of this period of "not jumping into the breach" to defend their people before God: "lo 'alitem bapratzot k'Moshe... nishtayer pirtzah v'lo haya to sha'a l'gadrah, v'amad b'toch ha'pirtzah... 'aval atem lo 'amadetem b'toch ha'pirtzah... she'ilu 'alitem bapratzot k'Moshe, hayitem yicholin la'amod bamilchama b'yom 'af Hashem.")
(10.) The Midrash puts it trenchantly: "zeh 'osek b'sadehu, v'zeh 'osek b'karmo ... this person was occupied with his fields; and this one was busy in his vineyard," Ruth Rabbah, Petichata 2.
(11.) The word "ish" used in the first verse typically signifies a person of importance.
(12.) See Cynthia Ozick, "Ruth," in Kates and Reimer, pp. 218--219. Also see Avivah Zornberg, "The Concealed Alternative," also in Kates and Reimer, p. 71.
(13.) Genesis 19:31--38.
(14.) Cf. Genesis 18:20: "The cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great...." Also, Lot's house is surrounded by enraged Sodomites when it is learned that Lot is harboring guests inside, and it is obvious that no good is intended either for Lot or for his guests (Genesis 19:4--9).
(15.) The Midrashic judgment on Lot is harsher than the textual evidence at first glance would seem to demand. Commenting on Lot's move eastward towards Sodom, the Midrash Rabbah focuses on the use of the word "kedem" to signify the eastern direction. Comments the Midrash: "Lot removed himself from the Originative Force of the world. He said, 'I desire neither Abraham nor his God."' (Bereshit Rabbah 41:10: va'yisa Lot mikedem: hisiya 'atzmo mi'kadmono shel 'olam 'amar: i efshi b'avraham; i efshi b'elokav.) As the Midrash reads it, Lot's move was not only a change of neighborhood, but also a change of moral compass: Lot was consciously separating himself both from Abraham and from his monotheism. In that respect, Elimelech's move to Moab acquires an even greater negative implication.
(16.) "Is this (really) Naomi?" [Hazot Naomi?] (Ruth 1:19).
(17.) To say, as Rabbi Joshua Bachrach does in The Mother of Kings (Ima shel Malchut; Hebrew) (Jerusalem: Yeshivat Ohr Etzion, 1984), p. 41, that the people were simply too busy with the harvest to bother greeting Ruth and Naomi does not excuse their behavior. Rather, it condemns them for maintaining the selfishness with which the Midrashic reading of the text charges them already at the time of Joshua's death (cf. note 10).
(18.) Rabbi Bachrach again tries to excuse Boaz's (lack of) reaction to his kinswoman and to her plight by arguing that he, too, was busy with the harvest (Mother of Kings, p. 43).
(19.) Deuteronomy 23:4 Cf. Bachrach, p. 43.
(20.) The verse's description of Boaz as a "man of volar"--literally gibor chayil, "a man of strength"--alludes to the root of Boaz's own name, which can be read as a compound of two words, bo 'oz "in him there is strength."
(21.) The reference here is to the conversation between Samuel and Saul after Saul has not obeyed the Divine command completely to destroy the Amalekites in battle. Significantly, it is only after Saul confesses that "I feared the [Jewish] nation and [therefore spared some of the Amalekite cattle]" that Samuel concludes that Saul's royal dynasty will not last beyond his own lifetime (I Samuel 15:24--26).
(22.) TB Sanhedrin 109b. I thank Rabbi Chaim Wasserman for this citation.
(23.) Genesis 19:8.
(24.) Genesis 19:30.
(25.) The Abarbanel asks what kind of a father gives up his daughters without fighting to the death for them (Abarbanel, Commentary on Genesis, question 26, p. 272). Also cf. Midrash Tanhuma, Vayera, 12.
(26.) Liminality, often seen as marginalizing, can also serve as a critical vantage point for analysis of the structure which one is prevented from joining. Cf. especially Robert Cohn, The Shape of Sacred Space: Four Biblical Studies (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1981), in which he elaborates on the concept of liminality. Avivah Zornberg makes a related point in The Beginning of Desire: Reflections on Genesis (New York: Doubleday, 1996); a similar point is expressed in her lecture of 3/98.
(27.) See, for example, Roberta Apfel and Lise Gondahl, "Feminine Plurals," pp. 55-64; Francine Klagsbrun, "Ruth and Naomi, Rachel and Leah: Sisters under the Skin," pp. 261-272, both in Kates and Reimer.
(28.) Ruth 1:17. In the Hebrew text, this point is signaled by the fact that Ruth says "'el asher"-i.e., "I will go to where you will go"; that is to say, my religious and moral aims are the same as Naomi's. Significantly, Ruth does net say "ba'asher teichi 'elech"-i.e., "I will go in the way that you go," which would have indicated that Ruth was binding herself to do everything in the exact manner that Naomi instructed her.
(29.) "And she went, and she arrived, and she gleaned (vatelech, vatavo, vat'laket)." The Midrash notes that Ruth investigated the best paths to bring her to the fields so that on the way home, she would not be beset by strangers who might take advantage of her lonely status (Ruth Rabbah 4:3; also Rashi on Ruth 2:3). In view of Ruth's provenance from a nation with roots in incestuous behavior, this sensitivity is particularly noteworthy.
(30.) Naomi instructs Ruth with this order of operations: "wash, anoint yourself, put on your clothes, and go down to the granary (v'rachatzt, va'sacht, v'samt simlotayich 'alayich, v'yaradt hagoren)," Ruth 3:3.
(31.) Ruth Rabbah 5:12.
(32.) See, for example, Gail Twersky Reimer, "Her Mother's House," p. 103; Mona DeKoven Fishbane, "Ruth: Dilemmas of Loyalty and Connection," p. 307; Judith A. Kates, 'Women at the Center," p. 196: all in Kates and Reimer.
(33.) Deuteronomy 25:5-7.
(34.) Cf. Nehama Aschkenasy, "Language as Female Empowerment in Ruth," in Kates and Reimer, pp. 113-114, 121.
(35.) "Do I have any sons in my stomach that can be husbands for you?" (Ruth 1:11). This remark highlights the connection between the Ruth-Boaz and the Tamar-Judah stories. In both cases, it is the women who are concerned with the continuation of the family blood lines. Tamar wants to have a child from Judah's family and it is only when none of her marriages to Judah's sons yield children that she arranges to be with Judah; similarly, Ruth makes it clear to Boaz that she is interested in marriage and children with him. I am grateful to Professor Murray Baumgarten for pointing to this connection.
(36.) In his analysis of the last chapter of Ruth, the early fifteenth-century exegete Isaac Abarbanel points out that the untying and removal of the recalcitrant brother-in-law's shoe by the childless widowed sister-in-law is different from the shaking-off ("shlifah") of the shoe performed here as a sign of legally recognized transfer/acquisition ("kinyan"; Boaz says "I have today acquired all that was Elimelech's ... and all that was Machlon's ... and also Ruth the Moabite" Ruth 4:9-10, my translation). Furthermore, the son of Ruth and Boaz was not called by the name of Ruth's dead former husband as he would have been had this been an instance of levirate marriage. Instead, Oved is given a name of his own.
(37.) Leviticus 25:25.
(38.) Deuteronomy 25:9-10 records that the brother-in-law is forever known by that mark of shame, "the house of him that has had his shoe loosened"-i.e., that has undergone the ceremony of khalitzah rather than participate in levirate marriage with his childless widowed sister-in-law.
(39.) Leviticus 25:28.
(40.) Ruth Rabbah 7:10.
(41.) Ruth 4:4.
(42.) Ruth 3:10.
(43.) Ruth Rabbah 6:2. Also see Aschkenasy, p. 123.
(44.) Ruth 4:12.
(45.) Genesis 38:26. Tamar had dressed up as a harlot to facilitate Judah's being with her and Naomi's comment about sons is echoed in the Tamar story.
(46.) Genesis 50:8-9. Rashi ad. loc.
(47.) Ruth 1:9.
(48.) In that sense, Ruth's internal moral dynamic foreshadows Rousseau's remark on the likelihood of certain countries to achieve and maintain a democratic style of government. Writing in the mid-eighteenth century, a time of political flux in Europe not entirely dissimilar to the lack of political stability in ancient Israel during the time of the Judges, Rousseau sees an exclusionary choice between repose (in the sense of economic ease and stability) on the one hand, and freedom on the other. Rousseau insists that a choice is inescapable: "Le repos et la liberte me paroissent incompatibles; il faut opter" ("Considerations on Poland," 0C3, 955). In her own era of political disquietude, Ruth similarly sees that moral choices cannot be easily avoided: the aim of life is not to live it peacefully, but in full spiritual control of one's own moral liberty.
(49.) The Midrash has God saying "Ruth made her efforts and Boaz made his; I, too, will make Mine" (Ruth Rabbah 7:7).
(50.) The first verse of Ruth informs us that the narrative of the book occurs during the time of the Judges; Ruth ends with the birth-line of King David, the first king of a united Israel.
(51.) Genesis 13:1 1.
(52.) The reference is to a verse in Psalms 89:21, where God proclaims "I have found My servant David." The Midrash's comment is incisive: 'Where did I find him [i.e., David]? In Sodom." Bereshit Rabbah 41:4; 50:10.
(53.) Cf. Malbim on Exodus 2:10-11 "vayigdal ha'na'ar."
(54.) Deuteronomy 23:4. As it turns out, the Biblical prohibition against inclusion of Moabites extends only to the male members of that nation. (Cf. Rashi ad. loc.; Ruth Rabbah 4:6; TB Yevamot 86b-87a, cited in Bachrach, p. 12).
(55.) Bereshit Rabbah 8:5.
(56.) This is expressed particularly well in the verse in Psalms 85:11, "truth and kindness met."
(57.) Ruth 4:11-12; 14-15.
(58.) The philosophical complexity of Ruth's moral discernment has led certain commentators to read Ruth not just as a historical morality tale of personal and national development, but also as a handbook for spiritual redemption. Taking as its cue the verse in which Boaz promises to redeem the fields of Naomi and marry Ruth (Ruth 3:13), this approach metaphorically reads the text as a guide to two methods of spiritual liberation: humanly-engendered or Divinely-led. The easiest method, of course, is the naturalistic one, exemplified by the anticipated fulfillment of the role of "Go'el--redeemer" on the part of "Ploni Almoni." But if that possibility does not ensue (as exemplified in the Book of Ruth), then God Himself (signaled by Boaz's assertion of "I will liberate you") will step in to liberate his people. This is the approach taken by the Bartenura and similarly by the Ohr HaChayim in glosses on the Biblical requirement of the redemption of land (Leviticus 25:25-28), which serves as the legal frame by whi ch the story of Ruth is resolved. Spiritual redemption usually comes about at the hand of the righteous (using as the prooftext the verse in Leviticus 10:2: "I will be sanctified by those near to Me"; my translation). But if the man (the impoverished holder of the familial plot in ancient Israel)--and here, interestingly enough, the impoverished person is held to be a metaphorical reference to God, who is "impoverished" due to the moral irresponsibility of His people--has no such redemption, i.e., there are no righteous people whose good deeds will lift God's fortunes, then "his hand will reach"--that is to say, God Himself will exercise His own lovingkindness to redeem the spiritual impoverishment of His people.
(59.) Judges 12:8-10 and Rashi, Radak.
(60.) Yalkut Shimoni, 508; cited in Bachrach, p. 84. Also Ruth Rabbah 6,4.
(61.) Ruth Rabbah 2:14 ("Megillat Ruth lama nichtiva? I'hodia matan s'ch'aran shel gomlei chasadim").
(62.) Many commentators point out that Ruth was herself a Moabite princess, and so becoming the matriarch of the Davidic dynasty does not really raise her social standing, but rather simply restores it to what it originally was. (cf. Judges 3:20; Rashi).
(63.) There is an important religious basis for that statement. Ethics of the Fathers, an early Tanaitic compilation of ethical thought, does not tell us to abnegate ourselves before other people, but only before God (Avot 2:4: "Batel r'tzoncha mipnei r'tzono"). There is an important difference. An action that involves self-abnegation is not Khesed and is certainly not fulfilling God's will: God created all people, and did not create some who, by virtue of certain characteristics, are fated to render themselves nothing.
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| Author: | MORGENSTERN, MIRA |
|---|---|
| Publication: | Judaism: A Quarterly Journal of Jewish Life and Thought |
| Geographic Code: | 1USA |
| Date: | Mar 22, 1999 |
| Words: | 8876 |
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