Several years ago I read a series of letters by Carlo Carretto. Carretto was a leader in an Italian youth movement called Catholic Action. He was an effective leader, but in 1954, when he was 44 years old, he left his career behind and joined a community in the Algerian desert called the Little Brothers of Jesus. In his letters he describes the things that were going through his mind: “For many years I had thought I was ‘somebody’ in the Church. I had even imagined this sacred living structure of the Church as a temple sustained by many columns, large and small, each one with the shoulder of a Christian under it. My own shoulder too I thought of as supporting a column, however small.... After creating the world, God went away to rest; with the Church founded, Christ had disappeared into heaven. All the work remained for us, the Church. We, above all those in Catholic Action, were the real workers, who bore the weight of the day. With this mentality I was no longer capable of taking a holiday; even during the night I felt I was ‘in action.’ There was never enough time to get everything done. One raced continually from one project to another, from one city to another. Prayer was hurried, conversations frenzied, and ones heart in a turmoil” (Letters from the Desert, trans. by Rose Mary Hancock, pp. 14-15).
While he was in the desert he made a discovery: “After twenty-five years I had realized that nothing was burdening my shoulders and that the column was my own creation – sham, unreal, the product of my imagination and my vanity. I had walked, run, organized, worked, in the belief that I was supporting something; and in reality I had been holding up absolutely nothing. The weight of the world was all on Christ Crucified. I was nothing, absolutely nothing” (p. 16). He said that realization set him free, that he felt like a young boy on holiday. It filled him with genuine, joyful freedom.
The calling to be witnesses to the life of God in this dark world can be an intolerable burden if we think the weight of success rests on us. If it’s our job not only to act as witnesses, but also to win people to Jesus Christ, the burden can become overwhelming. When we think it’s our responsibility to bring people into the kingdom, the pressure becomes so great that we resort to whatever means will lead to outward success. We borrow techniques from the world of sales and try to manipulate people into faith by convincing them that the product benefits outweigh the cost. We tiptoe around unbelievers, because we’re afraid that even a slight misstep might turn the person off forever.
Martyn Lloyd-Jones, the great Welsh preacher of the 20th century, who pastored Westminster Chapel in London for 30 years, tells of preaching a sermon and noticing that a man he knew who was a notorious drunkard was weeping throughout the service. After the service, as he was shaking hands with people he considered whether he should invite the man to his study for more conversation; but in the pressure of the moment he decided not to and the man shook his hand and left. The next day he saw the man on the streets of London and the man said to him, “if you had invited me, I would have come to your study to talk about the condition of my soul.” Lloyd-Jones responded, “I’m inviting you now.” But the man wasn’t interested; he said, “no, but if you’d asked me last night, I would have come.” And Lloyd-Jones told him, “if what was happening with you last night doesn’t last any longer than this, I’m not interested in it.” I know many people are disturbed by a story like that. Shouldn’t Lloyd-Jones have grabbed the man by the hand and yanked him through the door while he had the chance? Did he drop the ball, so that this man was lost, when he might have been saved if Lloyd-Jones had responded correctly at the right moment?
The book of Ruth is a story about how a young woman from Moab – a foreigner with no rightful place in God’s kingdom – becomes part of the nation. What is it that attracts her and makes her want to remain with Naomi when she returns to Israel? Obviously part of the answer has to do with her relationship with Naomi, but Orpah also has a relationship with Naomi, and she returns home to Moab. What is it that leads Ruth to stay with Naomi and become part of the nation of Israel?
This story is set during the period of the Judges, a very bleak time in the spiritual life of the nation. The closing words of the book of Judges describe what was going on at the time: “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes” (21:25). Spiritual leadership was lacking in those days. One of the most horrible stories in Scripture is the account of the Levite and his concubine in chapter 19. They stop to spend the night in one of the towns of Israel and the concubine is raped and murdered. The Levite then cuts her into twelve pieces and sends a piece to each tribe of Israel, calling for the nation to punish the offenders. This leads to civil war, and most of the tribe of Benjamin is wiped out.
The nation of Israel, at this point, is not at its best. They’re not living out their faith in a way that is likely to attract outsiders. No one is leading them as a nation, so all the people are doing what they feel like doing.
What about Naomi? What does her life look like? One of the things I read suggested that it was Naomi’s faith and consistency as a believer that attracted Ruth to God. Ruth could see God’s influence in Naomi’s life, and she wanted to experience the same thing. But Naomi has been through a really difficult time. She and her husband, along with their two sons, left Israel and went to Moab because of a famine. Then Elimelech, her husband, had died. The death of a family patriarch in this society was devastating. Naomi was left as a widow, and the family had to recover its bearings without Elimelech’s leadership. Since they were living as resident aliens in Moab, they didn’t even have the support of their own people.
Widows in the ancient world were in a very precarious position. Naomi tried to recover the situation by having her sons marry Moabite women. Maybe in this way the family line could carry on. But after 10 years, neither of them had an heir, and then they both died. So, within a ten year period Naomi has been widowed and has lost both her sons. She sets out for Israel, having heard that things are going better than when she left, but along the way the seriousness of her situation hits her. What hope is there for three widows traveling to a new place? She’s lost everything. She has nothing to offer these women any longer. So she urges them to go back to their own land. Naomi’s life, at this point, is in ruins. Theresa of Avila was a great woman of prayer, but things didn’t always go well in her life. Once, while she was sick with a fever, she was on a journey and discovered that she was going to have to cross a river. She was going through a difficult time anyway, and having to get in the water was the last straw. She was at the end of her rope, so she turned to the Lord and complained, “Lord, amid so many ills this comes on top of all the rest!” A voice answered her, “That is how I treat my friends,” and she replied “Ah my God! That is why you have so few of them!” (quoted by Simon Chan, Spiritual Theology, p. 133). Ruth could have said, looking at Naomi’s life, “is this what it means to be under the protection and lordship of the God of Israel?”
But then, often people who are suffering have a strong witness. I’ve heard testimonies from people who visited Christians who were terminally ill, often in great pain, and they come away realizing that they were the one’s who were ministered to. They went to the hospital expecting to give encouragement and they received more than they gave, because the suffering person had such a strong assurance of God’s presence and blessing. So, even though the nation, as a whole, is in a sorry state spiritually and Naomi herself has experienced severe trials for an extended period of time, it would be possible for her to maintain a powerful witness to those around her. But that doesn’t seem to be the case either.
She tells her daughers-in-law, when she’s urging them to go home, “it has been more bitter for me than for you, because the hand of the Lord has turned against me.” All the things that have happened to her, she says, have been because the Lord has turned His hand against her. God isn’t helping and supporting her any longer. When they arrive in Bethlehem, the women there exclaim, “Can this be Naomi?” and she tells them, “Don’t call me Naomi.... Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.” Naomi means “pleasant,” and Mara is the Hebrew word for “bitter.” She’s saying, “the name Naomi, the name you called me when I lived here, doesn’t describe me any more. It doesn’t fit with the things God has brought into my life. My life has been bitter and painful; the Lord Almighty has afflicted me. Call me Mara, because my life is full of bitterness.”
Things in her life have been so overwhelming that she’s lost a sense of hope in God’s kindness. She doesn’t expect Him to bring good things into her life any more. She doesn’t believe in God’s goodness and kindness. Let’s not be too hard on her. The losses she’s experienced have been devastating. Abraham Kuyper, who was the prime minister of Holland and also a theologian and a preacher, said this: “When for the first time... the cross with its full weight is laid upon our shoulders, the first effect is that it makes us numb and dazed and causes all knowledge of God to be lost.” We find ourselves shocked and dazed and disoriented. We feel weak and vulnerable, as if the bottom has dropped out of our world.. This is what’s happened to Naomi. God isn’t finished with her yet, but she can’t, at this point in her life, know what He has in store for her. She’s not capable, right now, of bearing the weight of responsibility for attracting others to the kingdom of God. It’s enough for her just to keep going.
All these things together make it highly unlikely that Ruth would be attracted to the faith of Israel. Because of a general lack of spiritual leadership, the religious and social life of the nation is in chaos. The people are going their own way, doing whatever seems best, and the results are disastrous. Naomi has experienced devastating loss in her life, with the result that she’s unable to give Ruth any kind of spiritual encouragement or direction. And if Ruth believes that God’s favor results in prosperity and happiness, Naomi’s life is likely to convince her to stay away from the God of Israel.
And yet, look how Ruth responds when Naomi urges her to return to Moab: “Don’t force me to leave you; don’t make me go home. Where you go, I go; and where you live, I’ll live. Your people are my people, your God is my god; where you die, I’ll die, and that’s where I’ll be buried, so help me God – not even death itself is going to come between us” (The Message). How do you explain that response? Ruth clearly loves Naomi and is determined to stay with her, despite all the reasons for going back to Moab (the place where she’s lived all her life). The only adequate explanation for Ruth’s commitment to Naomi is that God is at work in her heart in ways we can’t see. God is going to include her in His great work of redemption. She’s going to become one of the people through whom He brings a Redeemer into the world.
God is at work in ways we don’t understand and can’t plan for. He doesn’t call us to figure out how to pull people through the door of the kingdom. He simply calls us to walk with Him faithfully over the course of our lives and to speak the truth as we have opportunity. But then He uses our witness in ways we never could have expected. Often He’ll use us in surprising ways, without our awareness, even when we’re not trying to do anything. I’ve sometimes taken flak from people because I read every chance I get. At some jobs, I’ve tried to read during my breaks, and from time to time other Christians have told me that this is a bad thing. In their view, I should have spent the time socializing with others, trying to minister to them and possibly win them to Christ. The problem for me was that I had been interacting with my co-workers during work time and I really needed a break from it. I really don’t have the capacity for endless interaction, and reading during my breaks helped me to keep going.
A few years ago, I was working as a cabin counselor for one of the Adventure Weekends at Kenbrook (Adventure Weekends are for children who are too young to go for a whole week). My group that year was especially draining; two of the kids were on medication for ADD, and a couple of the others probably should have been. The only free time we had was on Saturday afternoon, for one hour. The rest of the time we were with the kids. When it was time for my break, I was drained and needed to recuperate. So I sat on a bench in front of the cabin and read my Bible. A friend from the E-town church was down the hill at the retreat center; he and his wife were attending a marriage encounter weekend. They went for a walk on Saturday afternoon, and saw me sitting alone in camp, reading my Bible. He told me afterward that this had a major impact on him. He had heard me talk about the importance of reading Scripture, but it hadn’t really taken hold of him. After that weekend he became more diligent in his Bible reading, simply because he saw me sitting on a bench reading my Bible (doing the sort of thing that some people have seen as a hindrance to my ministry). I wasn’t seeking to minister to anyone. I didn’t even know he was at Kenbrook. I was just trying to survive. But God used it in his life, completely apart from any intention on my part.
Carlo Carretto was right. The burden is not ours. God calls us to walk with Him and to speak the truth as we have opportunity. It’s not our responsibility to coax and manipulate people into making decisions. It’s not our job to grab people by the hand and yank them through the door of the kingdom. When I went forward at an evangelistic service in the spring of 1974, one of the pastors talked me out of becoming a Christian right then. He talked to us about the cost of following Jesus Christ, and as a result I backed off. It was months later that I actually committed my life to Christ, because that man was concerned about speaking the truth, not coaxing me into a decision (which he could very easily have done).
We don’t need to worry about our image, as if it depended on us to present an image that makes people think it’s a great, fun thing to be a Christian. We need to stop pretending. We are free to be ourselves. The most important thing is that we walk with God and seek Him diligently, whatever else is going on in our lives. And then, as we walk with God for a lifetime, He calls us to speak honestly to others as we have opportunity. We don’t need to sell the gospel to anyone. We simply need to bear witness to the reality of God’s presence in our lives (even when God’s presence in our lives isn’t having the kinds of effects we hope for).
As we seek to be faithful witnesses in this fallen world, God will use us. Often we’ll be surprised at the things He uses; He’ll use our feeble efforts, but He’ll also use things that seem insignificant to us. He’ll use us when we think we’re at our worst, when we think we’ve failed. It’s God’s work, and He works in ways beyond our comprehension. Our calling is to be diligent in prayer, to cultivate our relationship with Him, to pray for others, and to bear witness when He gives us the opportunity. May He enable us to do this, and to live faithfully in this world as His representatives.
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