Seven weeks ago we celebrated the Exodus from Egypt. All nature awakened to greet the season of our national birth. The birds’ song was heard again as they returned from their winter homes, the trees began to put forth their buds. But the winter chill had not yet left the air. The ground was still damp with melting snow. The Exodus marks only a hopeful beginning, our first steps into the world as G-d’s people. There remains the long road from Ramses to Sinai, the forty-nine days of spiritual preparation before receiving the Torah.

 

We arrive now at the foot of Mt. Sinai, anxious to experience the long awaited revelation from G-d. We have begun to mature as a nation, and the world around us celebrates the full bloom of springtime. The days are approaching their longest, the weather is warm but not too hot, the trees are full of bright green, not yet darkened by heat and drought. We celebrate the Torah, our national treasure and vocation, amidst a vision of the paradise it promises.

 

The story of Ruth takes us away from this idyllic imagery to a time of drought and national poverty, a time of disorganization and uncertainty. It follows the tragic life of one wealthy family which was driven to live in a foreign land among strangers. Of the four who set out, only one would return, and she only after losing her husband, her two sons and all their wealth.

 

It was to this unhappy widow that Ruth chose to join herself. Ruth was born into the privilege and comfort of royalty. She was not drawn by the hope of wealth or power to join Naomi's noble family, but by Naomi's good character and virtuous life, despite her reduced circumstances. Ruth was well aware of the restrictions the Torah would place on her. She understood that she would live with Naomi in poverty, and that few men would risk their family names by marrying a Mobabite convert. She may well have foreseen that three generations would pass before her children’s legitimacy was finally established. 

 

Had she known it, the house she established would eventually produce the Jewish monarchy. Ruth herself would live to see her great-grandson build the Temple in Jerusalem. A distant descendant of her house will one day bring Jewish history to its final conclusion. 

 

But all that was beside the point. The Torah expresses G-d’s Will for this world, and indeed promises eternal happiness. But a Ruth need not see that happiness realized in the immediate present to recognize her duty before G-d. In comfort and in suffering, in life and in death, she would remain faithful to G-d’s Word.