In life there are times of weariness . .
. times when there is nothing left . . . times when we are running on
empty. We have witnessed this weariness,
this running on empty . . . in others and in ourselves. In our body . . . in our minds . . . and, in
our hearts, we want to scream out, “I am so tired!” This weariness . . . this running on empty,
drains us to the very roots of our soul.
We have seen it in the eyes of those who
struggle with addiction and alcoholism.
We have seen it in the eyes of women, beaten and abused. We have seen it in the eyes of a spouse left
behind because of death or divorce. We
have seen it in the eyes of a child abandoned.
We have seen it in the eyes of parents watching their premature babies
struggle to live. We have seen it in the
eyes of those standing by those struggling with cancer, and in the eyes of
those sick and tired of the illness. We
have seen it in the eyes of those on the street corners, holding signs . . . begging. We have seen it in those battling depression
and other mental illnesses where darkness seems to rule. We have seen it in the pictures of those who
are fleeing war-torn countries . . . we see it in their eyes. It is a weariness as they run on empty never
quite sure when they will come to a rolling stop . . . empty . . . finished . .
. done.
We have seen it . . . and, I imagine
that we have all experienced it at some point in our lives . . . this weariness
. . . tiredness . . . this running on empty.
The story of Ruth begins as a story of
weariness. As the story opens we learn
of Naomi, her husband, and two sons fleeing Bethlehem because of famine to the
foreign land of Moab. Naomi’s husband
dies shortly after they move to Moab and she is left a widow with two
sons. She becomes the responsibility of
her two sons. Both sons eventually marry
Moabite women . . . one named Orpah, the other Ruth. The family now numbers five, but death soon
comes upon the two sons, leaving Orpah and Ruth as widows. Gone are the men in the family. Without husbands, sons, or men to take care
of them in this men-only world, there are now three women living together in
Moab . . . pooling their meager resources, struggling for survival, trying to
get by the best way that they could . . . but, the future looked bleak. They had lost everything . . . the weariness
was overwhelming.
Then one day, Naomi gets wind that the
famine was over in Judah . . . that God had come to the aid of the people by
providing food for them. Naomi decided
that it was time to go back home. As she
began her journey home, her two daughters-in-law came with her. Orpah and Ruth were making the journey
because of their devotion to Naomi.
Naomi was returning home, Orpah and Ruth were going to a place where
they would be strangers in a foreign land.
It would be hard for all of them, and Naomi knew this.
This is why Naomi encouraged her
daughters-in-law to return home . . . to go back to the familiar . . . to go
back to their mothers. If they did this,
they might even get another husband . . . a new life. Naomi gave them her blessing, but they
insisted in going with her. Again, she
attempts to discourage them to prompt them to go home. It was heart-breaking. Yet, Orpah listened, turned, and returned to
Moab and all that was familiar to her.
Ruth, on the other hand, clung tightly to Naomi, refusing to go
home. Instead she declared her
commitment to Naomi and whatever laid ahead . . . “Where you go I will go, and
where you stay I will stay. Your people
will be my people and your God my God.
Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so
severely if anything but death separates you and me.”
Sometimes you must grab onto anything to
keep from sinking to the bottom . . . anything to get to the next day. To grasp upon anything to survive. Ruth latches onto Naomi and whatever their
journey may bring. She trusts
Naomi. She finds a glimmer of hope in
Naomi . . . in Naomi’s faith . . . even in Naomi’s God. The road ahead looked brighter than the road
behind. There was still some fuel in the
ol’ gas tank . . . she hadn’t quite ended up empty yet. There was hope.
It has been said that a person can live
for weeks without food, days without water, and minutes without air, but it is
impossible to live one second without hope.
Ruth had discovered hope. Beside
Naomi, Ruth had found hope despite the life she left behind, and the certain
barriers she faced before her as a stranger in a foreign land.
It is a scary feeling when this
weariness creeps into our lives . . . when we feel as if we are running on
empty. Naomi, Orpah, and Ruth knew that
feeling well . . . having lost their men, their status, their wealth, their
protection . . . practically everything.
As I mentioned last week, these women had nothing left to lose. Naomi proposes a possibility . . . a return
to home where some relative or friend might take care of her . . . it was a
very uncertain future, but a future none the less. Naomi realizes how difficult it will be for
her, and even more so for her daughter-in-law who would be foreigner in a land
that probably wouldn’t receive her. She
knows it is their decision.
Orpah chooses to go back . . . to return
to Moab—her home. Orpah chose to return
home to the familiar, at least there she knew what to expect. It would not be a risk, it would be
safe. Ruth . . . well, she chooses to
stay with Naomi. Despite the odds
against her, she had come to love and trust her mother-in-law . . . if it was
good enough for Naomi, it was good enough for her. She would step into the uncertainty of the
future because one thing she knew was that she could trust Naomi. If Naomi found home in returning home . . .
returning to her God, so would Ruth. She
clung to Naomi.
Something to hang onto.
We should never underestimate the power
of relationships, no matter how big or small they might be. It is the relationship with Naomi that Ruth
finds something to hang onto . . . where she finds hope. Often, it is the relationships in our lives
that shine a light of hope into the weariness of our lives . . . that give us
hope. To know that someone cares . . .
anyone.
The song tells us that it “only takes a
spark to get a fire going.” Naomi is
that spark. Each Christmas Eve, when we
gather to worship, we always end with a demonstration of the power of a
relationship and how a spark can create a fire that lights up the whole
room. From the promise of the Christ
Candle we light one candle against the darkness of the night and world. Then a candle is lit from that flame . . .
then another and another . . . as the flame is passed from one person to the
next until the whole room is filled with light.
That is the power of a relationship . . . that is the gift of a
relationship. It gives us hope . . .
gives us something to hold on to . . . something to defeat the weariness. Something to remind us that we are loved and
desired. That someone cares for us. Someone to stand beside us.
With such hope . . . the weariness
doesn’t seem so heavy . . . and, maybe there are still miles to go before we
truly are empty. In the week to come,
let’s give it a try. Wherever we
discover that look of emptiness . . . that sense of another running on empty .
. . let us not walk on by, but let us pause and say, “Hello in there.” Let us be the spark that starts a fire. Amen.
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