Unshaken_Ruth

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by Francine Rivers


  He washed carefully and donned fresh clothing. Drawing his prayer shawl over his head, he prayed again, beseeching God for wisdom and strength to do what was right. He didn’t hurry in speaking with the Lord, but remained in a chamber by himself until the sun was well up and he knew he would be at peace with the outcome, whatever it was.

  When he came out of his inner chamber, his servants were huddled together, whispering. They glanced up in concern. “Yishmael, I have an errand for you.” Boaz smiled at the others. “Everything is fine. Go back to your work.”

  They did as he bid them, but he could sense their curiosity. His mouth curved in a rueful smile. It wasn’t every day their master came racing into his house in the manner he had. No wonder they were concerned. They were more accustomed to seeing him come home late in the afternoon, dusty from work, ready to wash, eat, pray calmly, and go to bed. Every day had a sameness about it.

  But today was different!

  He gave Yishmael the names of ten of the chief men in the city, men who were good friends and honest in their dealings with everyone. “Ask them to meet me at the gate of the city.” Most of the men would be easily found at the synagogue. They often met in the morning before they began their business transactions for the day. Several might already be sitting in the gate, hearing and helping to settle disputes between citizens. “As soon as you’ve spoken to them, go to Naomi and Ruth, the Moabitess. They live in a—”

  “I know where to find them, my lord.”

  “Good. Bring them to the gate right away.”

  Boaz went down to the marketplace to find Ruth’s and Naomi’s relative. He knew more than he wanted to know about the man’s reputation but was determined not to judge him on gossip. He intended to present Ruth’s case in a way that would test the man’s character. He walked among the booths until he spotted Rishon, son of Oved, brother of Elimelech, talking with several young men while his wife scooped barley from an earthen container and poured it into an old woman’s woven basket. The two women argued. Scowling, Rishon turned, said something to the older woman, and gestured impatiently. The woman turned away with a defeated frown.

  Stiffening, Boaz stood still for a moment, breathing in slowly and reasoning with himself. What he witnessed was not necessarily all it seemed to be. He needed to keep his mind clear for the discussion ahead. Rishon’s children were in the booth with his wife. He counted three, including the baby cradled in Rishon’s widowed mother’s arms.

  “Rishon,” Boaz called, going no closer. When the younger man turned, he beckoned. “Come over here, friend. I want to talk to you.” He kept his voice casual, as though what he wanted to discuss was of no great importance to him.

  Rishon came readily, blushing and looking faintly guilty. “I take it you saw that woman. She’s always expecting more than—”

  Boaz raised his hand to stop the flow of excuses. “It’s another matter I would discuss with you.”

  Rishon looked visibly relieved. “Another matter? What matter?”

  “Come,” Boaz said, holding his hand out in welcome. “Sit with me where it’s cooler.” He caught the glint of speculation in Rishon’s eyes when he sat down in the shade of the city gate. Rishon sat down with him. Boaz called the names of the ten men who had gathered in the gate. “Will you agree to be witnesses to whatever is decided here today?”

  Each agreed and took a place close by to hear out the case and act as a witness to what was decided between the two men.

  Rishon looked around at them, frowning, and then faced Boaz again. “What’s this all about, Boaz?”

  Boaz glanced around cautiously and saw Naomi standing in the shadows. His heart thumped heavily as he saw Ruth standing behind her. When he looked at Naomi again, she raised clasped hands before her heart, smiled faintly, and nodded.

  “You know Naomi,” Boaz said, extending his hand toward her. Rishon glanced at her indifferently and gave a curt nod of acknowledgment before returning his full attention to Boaz. “Naomi, who came back from Moab,” Boaz said.

  “So I’d heard.”

  And yet have shown no mercy or familial consideration, Boaz thought grimly. “She is selling the land that belonged to our relative Elimelech.” Rishon’s eyes started to glow, for it was prime land, close to the city. “I felt that I should speak to you about it so that you can redeem it if you wish. If you want the land, then buy it here in the presence of these witnesses.”

  “All right,” Rishon said with a full sigh of greedy anticipation. “I’ll redeem it.”

  Ruth had never seen a more handsome man than Rishon. He was much younger than Boaz, well built, ruddy, with dark curling hair and beard. He was dressed in a fine tunic and mantle and had the manner of a man eager to find any advantage. He surveyed the gathering of elders with caution, his eyes gleaming with speculation. There was a proud tilt to his head. Though he tried to take on the posture of confidence, she sensed his discomfort, as though he expected them to confront him for some error. He was wary of this meeting with Boaz and was deferential in his manner toward the older man. Ruth had the feeling Rishon’s manner was not from the heart but from the head.

  Nor did she like the way her relative looked at Naomi. The man barely glanced at her mother-in-law before dismissing her from his mind, as though she was of no import.

  Her heart dropped when Boaz said Naomi wanted to sell her husband’s land. She clutched Naomi’s arm, wanting to protest for her sake, but her mother-in-law leaned close and whispered, “Boaz knows what he’s doing. Trust him.”

  “If you want the land, then buy it here in the presence of these witnesses,” Boaz was saying. “But if you don’t want it, let me know right away, because I am next in line to redeem it after you.”

  “All right, I’ll redeem it,” Rishon said eagerly.

  “Good,” Boaz said. Ruth felt the blood drain from her face. Had she misunderstood his feelings toward her, his desire to take her for his wife? He didn’t even look in her direction or seem concerned that she would become the property of Rishon.

  “It’s good land,” Rishon said. “It’s a pity it’s remained fallow for so long.”

  “Of course, your purchase of the land from Naomi also requires that you marry Ruth, the Moabite widow. That way, she can have children who will carry on her husband’s name and keep the land in the family.”

  Rishon’s expansiveness evaporated. “The Moabitess?” He made no attempt to hide his disappointment. He looked from Boaz to the elders gathered. His mouth tightened. “So . . .” His face darkened. “Then I can’t redeem it because this might endanger my own estate.”

  “Such is his excuse,” Naomi whispered in disgust to Ruth.

  Ruth wondered what bothered Rishon most. Having to do his duty to her and provide Mahlon with an heir? Or risking that any fraction of his property might go to a child she might conceive? The people who had come to watch whispered among themselves.

  “His wife wouldn’t like it,” someone near Ruth said.

  “He should do his duty by Naomi.”

  “He covets the land but doesn’t see any point in buying it if he has to give it back as an inheritance to Elimelech’s family.”

  Rishon glanced around at the gathering and appeared discomforted. He untied his sandal hastily and handed it to Boaz, publicly validating the transaction. “You redeem the land; I cannot do it. You buy the land.” He rose quickly and pushed his way through the gawkers.

  Naomi grasped Ruth’s hand tightly. “He did it!” She gave a soft laugh of pleasure. “I knew he would.”

  Ruth caught her breath when Boaz looked at her. Though his expression was solemn and respectful, his dark eyes held a light she had never seen before. He seemed to catch himself, for he blinked and glanced away. He stood, Rishon’s sandal gripped tightly in his hand. He addressed the ten elders and the crowd that had gathered to see what was going on. “You are witnesses that today I have bought from Naomi all the property of Elimelech, Kilion, and Mahlon. And with the land I have a
cquired Ruth, the Moabite widow of Mahlon, to be my wife. This way she can have a son to carry on the family name of her dead husband and to inherit the family property here in his hometown. You are all witnesses today.”

  The ten men rose with Boaz, looking majestic in their long robes and prayer shawls and phylacteries. “We are witnesses,” they said.

  “We are witnesses!” the crowd joined in.

  Naomi pressed Ruth toward the men. “Go,” she whispered, her face aglow with excitement. “Go to him, dear.”

  The oldest of the elders held out his hand to Ruth. The crowd parted as she walked forward and placed her hand in his. Boaz moved to stand on the other side of him. The elder smiled at Boaz and then inclined his head to Ruth. “May the Lord make the woman who is now coming into your home like Rachel and Leah, from whom all the nation of Israel descended!” He drew Ruth forward as Boaz held out his hand. When her hand was placed in his, his fingers closed warmly around hers. The elder put his hands lightly upon their clasped hands. “May you be great in Ephrathah and famous in Bethlehem. And may the Lord give you descendants by this young woman who will be like those of our ancestor Perez, the son of Tamar and Judah.”

  The servant who had come for her and Naomi pressed his way hastily through the throng of people and ran down the street. People were calling out blessings to Ruth and Boaz. Men and women pressed in on them in their excitement, the men slapping Boaz on the back while the women took turns embracing Ruth and offering her fervent blessings. Boaz laughed and talked to everyone. Naomi was smiling broadly, gesticulating as she talked excitedly to the friends who surrounded her. Ruth was still stunned at the outcome. Boaz kept his hand locked around hers, keeping her close by him as the people swarmed around them offering their blessings and congratulations. The crowd followed as he brought her into the city and along the street. Overwhelmed by the throng of people celebrating around them, Ruth glanced back over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed, her heart racing. Where was Naomi? Was she coming with them?

  “Ruth!” Naomi called, pushing her way through the many well-wishers, several women accompanying her. “We must prepare for the wedding,” she said, embracing her and drawing her to one side as she playfully slapped Boaz’s hand. “Your bride will be ready for you this evening.” Ruth found herself hustled away by Naomi, her friends, and Boaz’s maidservants from the fields, all of them talking at once. Ruth could scarcely catch her breath.

  She was taken to the home of Abigail, a childhood friend of Naomi. Water was brought into an inner chamber where Ruth was stripped of her worn dress. She was washed thoroughly and rubbed with scented oils, her waist-length hair brushed until the thick, curling mass shone.

  A young serving girl came for Naomi. “Boaz has sent gifts for Ruth to wear.” They disappeared from the room, return-ing within moments. Naomi carried a carved box inlaid with ivory. “Look,” she said as she opened it for Ruth. “Jewels! See how he prizes you.” She lifted out a necklace set with red sardius, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds. “And he’s sent wedding clothes as well.”

  Naomi gave the box to Abigail and helped Ruth dress. “You will look like a queen.” When the long white tunic was slipped over her head, Ruth sighed. She had never felt anything so soft in her life. There was an overdress as well, embroidered in vibrant colors, and a sash made from the finest gold, blue, purple, and scarlet linen thread woven into an intricate design. There were bracelets and earrings, with stones of every color of the rainbow, and a narrow crown of gold on which were loops of chains with circles of gold.

  One of Abigail’s handmaidens braided Ruth’s hair with the precious stones Boaz had sent. Last, a diaphanous veil edged with embroidered grapes and leaves and bundles of wheat was draped over her head. The cloud-light material hung all the way to her knees.

  “The men will be coming soon,” Naomi said, holding Ruth’s hand and kissing it. Her eyes were shiny with tears. “I am so happy for you.”

  Ruth grasped Naomi’s hand in both of hers. “For both of us.”

  Naomi caressed her cheek. “Don’t be afraid of him, dear. I would not have sent you to him if I weren’t convinced he could make you happy.”

  Quick tears filled Ruth’s eyes. “But will I make him happy?”

  “Oh, my sweet one. Did you not see his face when Rishon handed him the sandal? Gold and silver couldn’t have pleased him more. You are his treasure, my daughter, a gift from God.”

  Ruth bowed her head and closed her eyes. She was shaken by Naomi’s words. Could Boaz truly love her so much? Surely a man like Boaz deserved to be loved in return. But was she capable of giving him what he must long for more than anything? Would her heart soften toward him as it had toward Mahlon? Would she tremble at his touch? Would she come to yearn for the sight of him? She admired Boaz. She had the greatest respect for him. But love? Could she give her heart and her body without reservation? Would she respond to him in a way to bring him joy? Or would she always see him as a kindly father or an older brother whom she admired?

  Oh, Lord God, I don’t want to cause Boaz grief. Please mold me into the woman intended for this man. I have seen his wholehearted love for You. Please fill me with wholehearted love for him! Mold me into a wife who will add to his crown. I would rather die than cause this man pain!

  She felt Naomi’s hands upon her head, light and reassuring, and heard her pray in a soft but fervent whisper, “Oh, God of Israel, still the fears of my child. She belongs to You as I do. Please bless Ruth for her love and obedience to me. And if it be not too much to ask, give her a love for Boaz that will exceed the love she had for Mahlon . . .” her voice broke softly, “my son.” She kissed Ruth on the head.

  Boaz had never been more nervous. He tried to hide it, but he noticed the smiles his servants exchanged and knew he was doing a bad job of it. He laughed in self-mockery. “I cannot even tie this sash properly!”

  Shamash stepped forward. “If you will allow me, my lord?” Boaz relinquished the sash thankfully and sighed in relief when his overseer finished securing it. Another servant held a white mantle with purple, blue, and red trim. Boaz fixed the gold brooches linked by a gold chain to hold the mantle in place. Last, a gold crown studded with precious stones was placed upon his head.

  His friends were gathering and filling the house. Some took delight in teasing him while others took this opportunity to praise his bride.

  “It’s about time you got yourself a wife, Boaz!”

  “He had to trick a relative to do it!”

  “Ruth is a young woman worthy of praise, my friend.”

  “She will fill your house with children.”

  “A pity such a pretty girl has to marry such an old goat!”

  Boaz laughed with them, but he did not possess the confidence he displayed. How did Ruth perceive him? He wasn’t young and he had never been handsome. He could think of nothing to commend himself to a young woman of virtue. Doubts assailed him from all sides, despite the joyous atmosphere surrounding him.

  “Do not frown so, Boaz,” Shamash said. “You’ll scare the poor girl.”

  Boaz forced a smile. His house was overflowing with friends, including the chief men of the city. He had given orders for all the preparations, even seeing that those less fortunate had festive clothing to wear for the occasion. Everything was in readiness, except for him.

  “What troubles you, Boaz?” Shamash said.

  Boaz had chosen his overseer to act as his companion for the wedding ceremony. Shamash had proven himself a trusted friend over the years. Boaz drew him aside and confessed his gravest concerns. “I compelled her into this marriage. What was I thinking? I should have arranged a better match for her than—”

  “A better match? There is no better match! Is it not enough that the girl respects you?”

  Should he be encouraged by such words? “I want more for Ruth than that.”

  “Many men begin with less.” Shamash smiled wryly. “Besides, it’s too late to worry about all this. You are her
husband. The covenant between you was witnessed by everyone at the gate. It’s dusk and time to go and get your bride.” His eyes filled with compassion. “Ruth is a young woman of wisdom, Boaz. I think you will be happily surprised at the future God has prepared for you both.”

  Boaz laughed nervously. “I am already happily surprised, my friend. I never thought to have a wife, let alone a wife such as Ruth.”

  Before leaving, Boaz made sure all the preparations for the wedding feast had been finished. The canopy was set up and decorated with flowers and boughs of greenery and lined with cushions for comfort. The house was filled with the aroma of roasting meat, fresh-baked bread, spices, and flowers. Woven mats covered the floor. Trays were already laden and ready to be presented to the guests. Boaz counted the earthen containers against the far wall. “Is there enough wine?”

  “Enough, my lord,” Shamash said, “and the best in all Bethlehem!”

  Boaz did not ask about the bridechamber. His hand-maidens had seen to its preparation.

  Shamash stepped closer. “All is in readiness, Boaz. If you delay any longer, Ruth might think you’ve changed your mind.”

  Boaz walked straight from his house, and his friends fell in beside and behind him. The procession wove through the streets of Bethlehem. His companions sang. Some played double-reed pipes, lutes, and lyres. Others danced.

  When Boaz reached the house of Abigail, he didn’t even have to knock before the door was opened. Naomi stood before him, her face transformed. He hadn’t seen her smile since she had come home from Moab. She almost looked young again, and he was reminded of the past when he had thought to make her his wife. “I have come for my bride,” he said. His heart stopped when he looked past Naomi and saw the women in festive dress bringing Ruth to him in her wedding veil. He couldn’t speak another word. When he reached out to her, Ruth took his hand. He felt her fingers tremble against his as he guided her to his side. He wished he could raise the veil and see her eyes. Perhaps then, he would sense what she was feeling.

 

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