The book of Ruth is the little doorway through which I beckon my Introduction to the Bible class into the vast Old Testament. I start with Ruth because it is short enough to read out loud. In addition, the book is sprinkled with enough strangeness to spice up a class discussion. Also, two women are central characters and most of my students are women. Visitors in a foreign land look for images of themselves.

"Who is the central character in the book of Ruth?" I wonder aloud. Most pick Ruth. Fewer name Naomi. One or two will see the story depending on Boaz. But among my young modern readers almost no one suggests a fourth option—God. However, if we listen carefully to the characters themselves speaking, particularly the older Naomi and Boaz, the essential figure behind the tragedies and the blessings is the God of Israel. This theocratic focus blocks us from reading the book as a tale of two clever widows surviving in a man’s world. If we strike out all references to God a coherent story would remain but it would be out of kilter with the world of the Bible.

But even the most secular and skeptical in the class can sidle up to this book without having to brush away the angels. In his first meeting with Ruth, Boaz utters a prayer that the Almighty will put his "wing" over Ruth for her kindness toward the widow Naomi. In the final exchange between the two, Ruth appeals for Boaz to put his "winglet" over her—an invitation to answer his own prayer. There is much that is strange in the book of Ruth to the contemporary reader—gleaning, a shoe ceremony, the obligation to care for a widow that goes with a transfer of land. But the heart of the book is clear enough. God does not need prophets or even dreams from heaven. The kindness of decent people is usually more than enough.

I always ask them whether Ruth and Boaz love each other. One or two careful readers in the group will recall that the word love is used only once near the end of the book by the village women who declare to Naomi that Ruth loves her more than seven sons. For some worldly wise students finding a dependable man is enough. Some romantics insist that it is a love story if we read between the lines. After all, Boaz was a kind man and treated Ruth with respect and even apparent admiration.

A few weeks ago, my daughter and her husband participated in a wedding where the bride, a woman in her early twenties, exchanged vows with an older man in his forties. With a sad history of sexual exploitation by family males, an abusive marriage and several children, the bride was grateful to find a man who treated her with kindness and respect. The spark of passion wasn’t essential, although he seemed to be in love with her. Hopefully, love will flower and last for both of them.

In the case of Ruth and Boaz, each notices and comments on the goodness of the other as shown in deeds of kindness. Boaz does not view Ruth as merely an attractive sexual partner or a financial resource—a woman to bear him children and work hard for his benefit. What Boaz finds admirable in Ruth is, first, her care for her mother-in-law, a senior citizen, and second, Ruth’s interest in him without the physical attributes of a younger man.

Ruth’s goodness leads her away from the security to which she is entitled as a Moabite among Moabites to the uncertain life of a stranger among the people of Bethlehem. She unilaterally adopts the Bethlehemites as "my people" without any assurance that the Bethlehemites will reciprocate by accepting her. Boaz stands in awe of her kindness in what she has given up to care for an older woman only tenuously related to her in their mutual widowhood. For her part, Ruth is surprised at the generosity and gentleness of Boaz to an alien widow, in status beneath his slaves.

I try to sell my students on the idea that respect is the foundation for an enduring love, that, if in a less-than-ideal world, they should find themselves having to choose between respect without apparent love or love without evident respect, that they ought to take the respect. Love declared by a lover who does not respect the beloved is hollow or doomed. Physical abuse, demeaning words, and attempts to control the other as if a child are all evidences of disrespect that will poison a marriage. But affectionate and even erotic love can grow in soil of admiration.

Throughout the Old Testament, the treatment of widows is Yahweh’s litmus test for measuring the character of his people. Boaz passes with high marks. Though he has wealth and the power of maleness, he never takes advantage of a vulnerable Ruth. Initially, he uses his position to protect the young widow from sexually aggressive males. He provides for the physical needs of both widows. Alone with Ruth on the threshing floor, he shows a respect for her reputation that leads to restraint. His goodness can be questioned by modern readers as too passive or even self-serving. But the ancient storyteller does not intend to impugn him.

We usually run out of time before we can explore the possibility that Boaz was already married when he met Ruth. The acceptance of polygamy as a legitimate, albeit, less-than-ideal form of marriage, is apparent in the Old Testament and may even be implied in Jesus’ story of the woman who married seven brothers. For a recent well-rounded discussion of polygamy in the Bible see Roy E. Gane, "Some Biblical Principles Relevant to Evangelism among Polygamous People," Journal of Adventist Mission Studies 2.1 (2006):29–43.

Another topic I usually don’t get to explore with the class is the appropriateness of the marriage of a considerably older man to a much younger woman. Why doesn’t Boaz marry Naomi, a woman closer to his age? This might be a touchy issue since I am old enough to be the grandfather of most of my students. But we do live in a time when the rich celebrity or CEO, male or female, is prone to find a trophy farther down the age ladder.

Whatever Boaz’s reasons for marrying the younger woman, she and not Naomi was of childbearing age. By her own blunt admission to Orpha and Ruth, Naomi’s childbearing years have passed. A child will keep the family line alive in a time when life after death meant having children who would carry on one’s name and memory.

But I usually do find time to talk about living with one’s mother-in-law. Both of ours lived with my wife and me for years. This declaration evokes amazement if not disbelief. And I always recite for them the words of Ruth, "Whither thou goest, I will go, whither thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God." After all, my Ruth and I recited those words together almost forty-four years ago.

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