“Hesed”

Ruth 1:1-18

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

July 25, 2021

A few weeks ago, I was talking with a friend who was sharing her frustrations about how her church has handled difficult decisions about how to gather during the pandemic. She confessed to me a bit sheepishly that though she generally has a lot of respect for her pastor, she was confused about a phrase she had heard him repeat several times in recent months, “We trust every individual in our congregation to make the safest decision for themselves.”

“I just don’t get it,” she said, “Is that really what we’re supposed to be about as Christians? Making the best decision just for ourselves as individuals? That’s not the message I hear when I read the Bible or look at Jesus. We’re not supposed to be making our decisions based on what’s best for ME. We’re supposed to be thinking, first and foremost, about the whole community and especially those who are most vulnerable, right?”

I couldn’t disagree with her, of course. Our call as Christians is absolutely to make decisions based on what’s best for the whole community, especially those who are most vulnerable. If it happens to also be good for me, great. But Jesus didn’t call us to self-centeredness. And it’s hard to overstate how radically counter-cultural this is in the year 2021 in the United States. After all, we’ve got billionaires who could single-handedly end hunger or homelessness in this country but are instead joy-riding around in space with their friends. Those of us who are trying to follow Jesus are given the task of remembering that we are called to love one another (Every. Single. Other).….and that’s very much at odds with the hyper-individualistic air that surrounds us. 

But Jesus keeps calling us into something bigger than ourselves and the pandemic has provided more opportunities than we might prefer to live into that call. And it hasn’t been easy. None of us has done it perfectly - or anywhere close - yet and still, we keep trying to make decisions based on the health and wholeness of the whole community, especially the most vulnerable. Because that’s what it means to be a follower of Jesus. 

My friend was talking about masks, but we know that conversations around vaccines are like this, too. It is, of course, quite easy to encourage a friend or family member to receive a vaccine because it’s in their own self-interest. For the vast, vast majority of people right now, doing the self-centered thing that’s good for us as individuals includes getting vaccinated. (And, of course, everyone should talk to their own doctor, who knows them best, when making these kinds of decisions about their health.)

In southwest Missouri, where COVID is so awful right now and vaccine rates are lagging, more than 200 pastors have come together to make a theological claim about vaccination: it is one of the best ways that we who follow Jesus can love our neighbors as ourselves right now. [1] If we take seriously the call to do justice and love mercy, these pastors say, we need to roll up our sleeves as long as our healthcare provider says it's safe for us to do so. We do it not just for ourselves but for others - especially those who are vulnerable. We do it because Jesus calls us to make our decisions based on what’s best for the health and wholeness of us all, especially the most vulnerable among us. This is what it looks like to love God and love your neighbor as yourself. It’s WE plus ME. 

Now you might be saying to yourself, did I come to church today to talk about COVID? Or is this preacher ever going to talk about the Bible?

Have no fear, my friends, because the reason I’m talking about all of this has EVERYTHING to do with the Book of Ruth. Now, in case you got a little lost in all those biblical names, let me briefly summarize what we heard. Once upon a time there was a couple, Elimelech and Naomi. They were from Bethlehem but had to migrate to a foreign land, Moab, because of a famine. They took their two sons with them. Eventually, Elimelech died and Naomi’s two sons married two local, Moabite women - Ruth and Orpah.

Naomi’s two sons die leaving her and her two daughters-in-law alone to fend for themselves. In this communally-oriented culture, being “family-less” was one of the worst things that could happen to a person. Especially to a woman. 

 

Naomi has heard that things have improved in her homeland so she makes the decision to return to Judah. Initially, her daughters-in-law go with her. But somewhere along the way, Naomi tells them, “You know, I think you should actually go back home to Moab. Nothing good awaits you in Judah and you’ll have better options if you stay here.”

 

The three women huddle together on the side of the road, crying. Eventually, Orpah kisses her mother-in-law goodbye, but Ruth clings to Naomi, refusing to leave.

 

“I’ll come with you,” she says. “Do not force me to leave you. Wherever you go, I’ll go. Where you stay, I will stay. Your people shall be my people and your God my God. Where you die, I will die and be buried there with you. May God seal these words as a pledge to you.”

 

Ruth, as a young woman living in a rigidly patriarchal society, did not have the power to change the entire culture swirling around her. Naomi didn’t either. But by clinging to her mother-in-law, Ruth did change the world. Together, these two women stuck together and the outcome of this story was very different because they loved one another - even when it was hard to do. 

There is a Hebrew word for this kind of love...and it doesn’t translate directly into English. Hesed is the thread that runs through the entire book of Ruth, tying the story together from beginning to end. English versions of the Hebrew Bible usually translate hesed as mercy, kindness, lovingkindness, goodness. Hesed is in a Bible verse that we tend to love around here, Micah 6:8: “What does God require of you, O mortal, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?” That “love mercy” part is hesed. 

It’s a covenental kind of lovingkindness, deeply rooted in our commitments to one another. It’s faithfulness and steadfast love. The kind of love that persists even when it’s hard. The kind of love that thinks of WE instead of just ME. I really appreciate the translation lovingkindness because it reminds us that love is not primarily about warm fuzzy feelings we have towards people that we like, agree with, or admire. Love is action. Making choices - small and big - to DO love. After all, kindness isn’t typically a feeling you have, it’s an action. 

Where did Ruth and Naomi and Boaz learn hesed? Where do we find the strength to live into hesed like they did? Well, it turns out it is our birthright as creatures made in the divine imprint of love - made in God’s image. Singer/songwriter Michael Card argues in his book Inexpressible: The Mystery of God’s Lovingkindness that hesed may just be the most important concept in the Hebrew Scriptures. The word shows up almost 250 times and it’s one of the key, defining characteristics of God. 

Card says God’s lovingkindness is what makes our God distinctive. “The great surprise of the Hebrew Bible is not that God is awesome or holy. These characteristics we would expect from God. The great surprise is that [God] is a God of hesed. This is what fundamentally makes [God] unlike [other gods].” [2] 

This lovingkindness, covenental love, faithfulness, mercy is our birthright as people created in God’s image. We see it when Ruth chooses to cling to Naomi, even though that isn’t necessarily the easy or self-preserving choice. In faith and in covenental love, she chooses WE - not just ME - and boldly proclaims that she will go with Naomi. 

This is what it means to be family and the book of Ruth is such an important reminder that family goes way, way beyond blood relations. Hesed  is a commitment to people we live with and people we don’t. Hesed is shared between relatives and friends and even enemies when we’re really leaning into it. Hesed  is not about what we have in common, but about choosing to love even in the midst of difference. Hesed is following the way of Jesus as we relentlessly ask for God’s strength and guidance as we try to love God and love our neighbor as ourselves. 

Hesed is made incarnate in the historical person of Jesus of Nazareth, “the Word made flesh, come to reconcile and make new, who works in us and others by the Spirit.” [3] You know, when I first saw this gorgeous new piece of art, I said to Paulicia, “I am so drawn to this Jesus. I want to just curl up next to him and have him teach me everything about Love.” Jesus embodied hesed and gave us a model for how we can do the same. 

If we allow our hearts to be drawn into the heart of Christ…

if we open ourselves to the movement of the Spirit in our midst…

if we consciously choose to receive God’s lovingkindness - hesed...

we, like Ruth, can be instruments of healing and wholeness in a world that so desperately needs it. 

So let’s just curl up next to Jesus for just a moment. And take a few quiet moments in silence to sit with lovingkindness incarnate as we honor God’s stillspeaking voice in art. 

NOTES:

[1] https://www.kansascity.com/news/coronavirus/article252898078.html

[2] https://greatbibleteachers.com/the-most-important-word-in-the-hebrew-bible-is/ 

[3] adapted from A New Creed https://united-church.ca/community-faith/welcome-united-church-canada/faith-statements/new-creed-1968 

"Holy"

Song of Songs 2:8-17

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

July 4, 2021

How is the Bible like a Justin Bieber song? No, really. My pop fans: can you think of a current Bieber song that connects to any of our scripture readings today? 

Yup. If you said Holy, you are the winner. 

We don’t often expect to find a song so explicitly about God all wrapped up with pop romance on the radio, but that’s just what the song Holy is. In case you’ve escaped the ubiquity of this ear worm, it’s a love song and Justin says, “The way you hold me….makes me feel holy.”

Chance the Rapper is also featured in the song and takes the theological connections further, explaining that he trusts in this human love because he’s also experienced God’s love AND he and his partner trust in the fullness of God’s love because they’ve experienced that love in tangible ways in each other. 

As unexpected as all this God-talk on the radio might be, I think we probably are similarly surprised by all this romantic love and sex talk in the Bible, right? The Church has historically been so antsy about discussing bodies, romantic love, and sex….and this has caused great harm to so many people. 

And how strange that the Church has often shied away from talking about these important matters because, look! Here it is right here in our Bible! We have an entire book of beautiful poetry devoted to the joys and delights of two people who are not shy about explicitly detailing their love for each other. They are not afraid to talk about their bodies or the joys that can be found in honoring and inhabiting our bodies fully. 

The whole book is a dialogue between two young lovers. God is not mentioned, which has sometimes puzzled theologians. There’s been a long history in the Church of allegorizing the Song - saying it’s about God’s love for us, rather than about two young people’s intense romantic love for one another. While I don’t think it’s appropriate to pretend-away the human sexuality  this book, I do think we can use that face-value-romantic love as a jumping off point for exploring all kinds of love that humans share...romantic love, love between friends and families, our love for our pets, nature, art, place.  Our love -  in all its varied forms - often grows out of a connection to God….just as our connection to God grows when we experience love - all kinds of love, not just romantic - here on earth. 

The invitation in this passage that’s shimmering for me today is this: “Arise, my love and come away.” 

The young lovers urge one another to pause, make space for joy, beauty, pleasure, love in their daily lives. They invite their beloved to come away to a place where they can enjoy each other and rest fully in the wondrous gift of love. 

Now this - this! - is something so many of us need to hear. This invitation to come away to a holy place to make space for giving and receiving love. Not just romantic love, but love of all kinds. 

It reminds me a bit of my dog, actually. Bear with me. Sometimes when I’m busy or distracted or in a rush or stressed out, she comes to me and bonks me or paws at me. She wants to play. Or she wants to go on a walk. Or she just wants a few scratches and a cuddle. “Arise, and come away!” her eyes say to me.  I can try to put her off for a while, but she usually wins. And when I do finally “arise and come away,” I receive the good gifts of love. I feel tension seep away when I put my hand on her belly and feel her breathing. I laugh like a kid while we play tug-the-rope. And I breathe deeply and see holiness all around me when we go for walks in our neighborhood. 

“Arise, and come away,” she says. Take a moment to just be. Take a moment to love. Take a moment to remember you are loved. And the invitation is good. Because when we accept the invitation to bask in love - in all its many forms - we remember that holiness is all around us. 

So often we fool ourselves into thinking holiness is reserved for “sacred spaces” like church sanctuaries or deathbeds or the Grand Canyon. Those places can be holy, certainly. But holiness can be found in many other places, too...an everyday moment, a little ritual. Can you think of a time this past week that felt holy to you? We’ll pause for just a moment to give you space to ponder that silently. 

(pause)

“Arise, and come away,” Love beckons. “Come and see the beauty, the joy, the holiness in digging in the dirt, Facetime with a grandchild, chopping vegetables for dinner, turning towards someone you love and connecting through touch.” 

The word holy seems to have its origins in wholeness and health. When we accept Christ’s invitation to seek holiness each day, we are really accepting an invitation to move towards wholeness and health. And not just for ourselves as individuals! Just think about what our community would be like if every single day we listened to that invitation to “Arise, and come away.” If we each allowed ourselves to seek even 3 or 4 moments of connection with Love, beauty, joy, vulnerability the way these young lovers do in the Song of Songs. Imagine how our hearts would grow. Imagine how the gift of God’s love would overflow out of each of us to the world around us, creating more wholeness and health for all creation. 

The invitation is there, my friends. “Arise, and come away.” Walk into the open arms of Love and be willing to receive the good gifts of the Spirit. There’s no expectation that we do it perfectly. Even if we just open ourselves to receiving God’s love in a holy moment ONCE each day - just one time! - we will discover that we yearn for more and more of it. 

You’ve heard it said that “practice makes perfect” and this is rarely true. But “practice makes progress,” and the more we open ourselves to holy love, wholeness, and health - the more naturally it will overflow into the world around us, creating a chain-reaction of healing in a world that desperately needs it. 

It doesn’t have to be anything big. It can be something small, like this:

A spiritual teacher of mine told me that when she was a little girl, her mom ironed shirts for 8 kids every day. “Arise, my love, and come away,” those shirts said to her each day...and while I doubt that she experienced that chore as a time of delight and joy, nevertheless, she found a way to seek holiness in that mundane task. Each day as she ironed, she prayed for each of her 8 children by name. She pressed God’s love into each shirt as she prepared it for each one of her beloveds. 

And she was often frustrated that she was rushing, running behind, hurrying to complete the task. And so her children would breeze through, waiting for each shirt to come off the board before school. And when they put them on, they were still warm. Still warm with love. Still warm with care. And I can see those kids putting those shirts on, day after day, wrapping their mother’s prayers around them like a fierce cloak of love. Their mother’s love that flowed from God’s love - a gift given freely for the taking. 

“Arise, my love, and come away.” And off they went into the world, wrapped up in love, sent out from holiness to holiness to do love and be love as beloved children of God. 

“Arise, my love, and come away.” 

The invitation still calls.