One of the questions I ask in my first book, Ten Questions to Ask Every Time You Read the Bible is this: Whose point of view am I taking? Changing perspectives can change story dynamics. Today, I’d like you to embrace the point of view that you are a bride. Let us review the stories of Scripture from the perspective of the various women whose male counterparts failed them.
You’re Eve. You were deceived. And you offered some of the fruit to Adam. He took it. Everything went dark. God shows up. You and Adam hide. When God asks what happened, Adam blames you. He takes no responsibility, just throws you under the bus.
Eve’s experience of an flawed bridegroom is a pattern that keeps happening throughout the Scriptures.
You’re Sarah. Abraham lies about his relationship with you and gives you away to the king of Egypt. Abraham doesn’t tell you that it’s a bad idea for him to go to bed with Hagar. He goes right ahead.
You’re Hagar. Abraham failure with you is infuriating. Not only are you enslaved. You are hated. For years things are terrible until finally Abraham sends you away with so few provisions you and Ishmael would have surely died without God’s intervention. You are treated so badly, you hardly qualify as a bride in the story.
You’re Rebecca. Isaac pulls the same stunt as his father in Egypt. He shows such preferential treatment to one of your two sons that you feel the need to trick Isaac.
You’re Leah. Jacob may have gotten tricked by your father Laban (totally deserved), but that is no reason to treat you with so very little love.
The brides are never cared for as they ought to be. They are never provided the refuge and love that they should be.
You’re Naomi. A famine hits Bethlehem and your husband Elimelech takes you and your two sons to the land of Moab. Your sons get married. But Elimelech dies. Then, horror of horrors, your sons die. Sometimes the failure of the bridegroom is simply in this: that they die. And we might be tempted to say, “well, that’s not their fault.” It both is and isn’t. Death is always a reminder of imperfection. That no matter how good a person is, the wages of sin is death. And we all sin. So we all die.
Elimelech and his two sons died. So you are left bereft with two daughters-in-law in tow. Orpah goes back to her family in Moab. Ruth refuses to go. So, you trek back with her to Bethlehem. And there Ruth meets Boaz and the story changes.
You’re Ruth. You go out to glean in a field all by yourself. You’re picking up the scraps, doing your best not to get in anyone’s way. You meet Boaz and he shows you astounding kindness. Boaz does everything in his power to help and protect you. He makes sure you has enough food. He makes sure you are able to glean the fields without threat of abuse. He gives you access to the well. Boaz even invites you to sit for mealtime not just with water, but with wine and bread. Boaz makes a comment about you coming under the wings of the Lord’s refuge.
When you return home with 30 or 40 pounds of barley from one day, (I’m no expert but that sounds like a lot) Naomi wants to know whose field you gleaned in and upon hearing it is Boaz, Naomi reveals that this man is a relative of Elimelech, a redeemer. Boaz can be your refuge and security. So, Naomi comes up with a plan so that Boaz will marry you.
One night, you sneak on to the threshing floor, sleep at Boaz’s feet, and propose marriage to him in the middle of the night. In your proposal, you remember the words Boaz had used to describe the Lord. You ask for Boaz’s wings of refuge to spread out over you.
In this, you are asking for Boaz to be like God. To be what Adam should have been. To be what Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob should have been. You ask for a bridegroom who will not fail you.
And for a moment, we are left wondering if Boaz will fail you because instead of just saying yes, he has to follow the dumb protocol on this and make sure the redeemer closer in lineage has first right of refusal. But (despite the literary tension) the other redeemer does refuse. Boaz marries you.
In all of the biblical examples of husbands, Boaz stands out as the best. He is a redeemer and a refuge. He is kind and generous. He stands out as a promise of a better Bridegroom to come.
Ruth and Boaz have a son named Obed, the father of Jesse, the father of David, the ancestor of Jesus.
You are the bride of Christ. Jesus is the greater Boaz. He is redeemer and refuge in an infinite capacity. His kindness and generosity stretch beyond imagination.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for sharing. Thanks for being curious.
Andy
Wow, Andrew! That was an inspiring thought. Straight from heaven and yet down to earth.
Thank you!
Mick
Here is at song I wrote in the 80’s from Ruth 1:16
https://youtu.be/kTOUAp57TQQ?feature=shared