Jack McKinney

Pullen Memorial Baptist Church

November 12, 2006 – Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost

Texts: Ruth 3:1-5, 4:13-17; Psalm 127:1-2

 

An Immigrant’s Story

 

            As a few of you may have heard, there was an election in this country on Tuesday. Depending on whom you ask, the Democrats taking control of the Congress is a wonderful thing or a terrible thing; it signals a sea change in American politics or it means very little at all; it suggests the end of the conservative revolution of the last two decades or it is, in some strange way, a validation of that revolution. You see, elections, like athletic contests, allow two people to view the exact same thing and have opposite reactions. Kind of like modern art.

            Interestingly, there are stories in the Bible that produce a similar divergence of opinion when read, and our text from Ruth is one of those stories. Let me explain what I mean.

            As a young person the pattern in our family was to go to church on Sunday and then often go out to eat afterwards. I recall many a Sunday lunch when the adults around the table made generic comments about the sermon that day. There was gentle approval or disapproval of what the preacher said, but rarely much more than that. However, I recall one time when a feminist scholar from the seminary came to our church and spoke about the book of Ruth. The lunch conversation that day was radically different. The women around the table spoke with excitement as they reflected on the words of the professor and how she had lifted up the role of the women in the story. It was as though these women had been waiting all of their lives to hear a strong word about a female character in the Bible, and for the first time that Sunday it happened. I can recall leaving lunch that day curious about this book in the Bible I knew nothing about simply because of the passionate response of those women.

            Now flash forward several decades and a conversation I had with some women last week about the passage from Ruth that has been read this morning. When I mentioned I was planning to preach from this text, two of the women, upon reading it, both said the same thing. They said it made them feel sick to their stomachs. As I listened to their disgusted reaction to Ruth, part of my mind drifted back to that lunch years ago when a table full of women talked excitedly about the very same story. And in that instant a voice came to me that said, “Jack, if you were a smart man you would drop this like a hot potato and preach something else.” But, alas, I am not a smart man, so here we go.

            The book of Ruth is either a heroic story about women, or a denigration of women, because the story itself is filled with heroism and horrors. The two central characters in the story are Naomi and Ruth. Naomi is an Israelite woman who we are told in chapter one had to move with her husband out of Israel during a time of great famine. The family, including two sons, ends up in Moab where they find food and start a new life. The sons eventually marry Moabite women, one named Orpah and one named Ruth. In the course of time all the men die--Naomi’s husband and her two sons. When the three women find themselves alone and facing destitution, Naomi tells her two daughters-in-law that they should return to their mothers’ homes and seek a new Moabite husband. Orpah follows this advice, but Ruth refuses. She insists on staying with Naomi and pledges her commitment to her mother-in-law. And then the two women return to Israel so that Naomi can seek help from her family.

            And with that brief sketch you may already be able to see why this book produces such varying reactions. On the one hand, this is one of the only books in the Bible that is named for a woman and whose main characters are women. Ruth demonstrates courage when she breaks out of the patriarchal expectations of the day and refuses to go home to look for a husband to take care of her. She wants to remain with her mother-in-law and seek survival under her guidance. On the other hand, the whole story paints a detailed picture of just how subordinate women were to men in that world. The death of the men in the story puts the women in great peril because women were viewed as little more than property without a man to provide for them. When Naomi and Ruth return to Israel they must scheme simply to get food from a man named Boaz who is a distant relative of Naomi’s. And then, in the passage we read a moment ago, we see Naomi urge Ruth to go to Boaz and seduce him so that he might claim her as his wife. Yes, when you see that Ruth has to consider prostituting herself in order to survive it makes you realize why some women view this story as anything but a feminist’s manifesto.

            But here’s the thing. Regardless of whether you think this story is good news or bad news for women, it is at its heart a story about an immigrant. Ruth is a foreigner and she must deal with the same challenges all foreigners in all lands at all times must face: different language, different customs, even a different god. And in the midst of all that difference Ruth has to figure out a way just to stay alive. And the truth of the matter is that if you are an immigrant, whether 3,000 years ago or today, things are a lot harder if you are a woman. Choices are fewer, abuse is more common, and destitute women in a foreign land sometimes face choices no person should have to make. So, before we judge Ruth too harshly for her choices, we should recognize she really doesn’t have any.

            As the United States engages in yet another debate about immigration, maybe it would be good for this religious nation to remember the story of Ruth. In recent years many of the most strident religious voices have talked about immigrants as though they are God’s plague sent upon us. Have these people never read the Bible? Have they never heard God’s declaration that we are all sojourners in this world and that the way we treat the alien in our midst is perhaps the test of whether our religious faith is genuine. And why is it that in all of the recent talk about fences to keep immigrants out, and laws to punish illegal aliens, that no one quotes the great American poet Walt Whitman? Listen to Whitman’s attitude toward the rest of the world, an attitude that seems sorely missing in this country right now.

You, whoever you are!...

All you continentals of Asia, Africa, Europe, Australia, indifferent of place!

All you on the numberless islands of the archipelagoes of the sea!

All you of centuries hence when you listen to me!

All you each and everywhere whom I specify not, but include just the same!

Health to you! Good will to you all, from me and America sent!

Each of us is inevitable,

Each of us is limitless—each of us with his or her right upon the earth,

Each of us allow'd the eternal purports of the earth,

Each of us here as divinely as any is here.

 

Where has that spirit gone in this country? I think we all know. Charity toward the immigrant has been sacrificed in the name of national security.

            Every time this country goes through an intense period of immigration, and we have had several in our history, the same basic message gets recycled. That message is that the influx of foreigners is costing us too much. In previous generations the cost was calculated in terms of jobs or land. But now the message we are hearing repeatedly is that the flow of immigrants into our nation is a security risk. Never mind the fact that the hijackers of 9/11 were in our country legally. Never mind that the comforts of our lifestyle are born on the backs of immigrants willing to do work we will not do. Never mind that Walt Whitman reminds us that “each of us is here as divinely as any is here.” All we are told is that we must keep them out, we must send them back, we must keep ourselves safe by building 700-mile fences and placing National Guard troops on our borders. And the truth of the Psalmist who says “Unless God guards the city,

 the guard keeps watch in vain,” (Psalm 127) falls on deaf ears. Maybe we should consider that the real cost in this debate is that our great nation of immigrants, a nation that has been a beacon to the world, is in danger of becoming something very different. Our fears are threatening to extinguish the beacon that is America.

            So, how do we reshape the current debate about immigration in this country and interject a more compassionate and biblical perspective? We do it by shifting the focus from what it costs us to have immigrants in our midst to what we gain by remaining a generous and open society. And the best way to regain that gracious attitude is to hear the stories of immigrants. I read such a story this week that came out of Casa Juan Diego, a Catholic Worker house in Houston that focuses on ministry to Latino immigrants. A young Salvadoran man named Ernesto wrote his own account of leaving his homeland in search of work in the United States. When Ernesto crossed into Guatemala he was robbed at gunpoint by the man he had hired to get him across a river. When Ernesto made it to Mexico he was robbed and beaten three different times, twice by the police and once by bandits. On two occasions in his journey he had to watch helplessly as women who were traveling with him were raped by gangs of men. Jumping from a train near Mexico City, Ernesto watched his best friend jump after him and lose both his feet under the train’s wheels. Refusing to leave his friend’s side even if it meant he would be sent back to El Salvador, Ernesto accompanied him to the hospital and stayed by his side throughout the ordeal. After all of these travails, Ernesto found himself completely destitute and still hundreds of miles from the United States. So for six months he worked non-stop and saved 5,000 pesos to continue his journey northward. When he resumed his trip and got closer to the border he was robbed by the police and found himself with nothing once again. Even so, he pushed on and crossed the Rio Grande near Laredo, Texas. With a grim determination he found his way to Houston and the Catholic Worker house. Why did he go there? Because back in El Salvador he had heard that if he could make it to America he should go to Casa Juan Diego in Houston. There were Christians there, he was told, who would help him. That one piece of information had kept Ernesto going through the many horrors he faced.

And I ask us, is that the kind of person we need to be protected from? Is this a person who will cost us too much to have in our country? Or is this the kind of courageous and compassionate person we need in our midst? We must keep hearing the stories of people like Ernesto so that we don’t forget how real their struggles are and how much they have to offer our society. (Ernesto’s story can be read on the webpage of Casa Juan Diego: cjd.org)

            The book of Ruth is at its heart a story about an immigrant. Is she a feminist heroine in this story, or just another pawn in a patriarchal society? I don’t know. I do know Ruth became the great grandmother of King David and the Jews were so proud of that fact that they made sure the story of this foreigner found its way into the Hebrew Bible. And she is an ancestor of a man from Galilee named Jesus of Nazareth. Yes, that’s right, one of Jesus’ most famous ancestors was Ruth. Without her story we do not have his story. And if we are to be the Christians we proclaim to be, and the church we intend to be, we must embrace not just the story of Jesus, but the story of his ancestor Ruth as well. “For we are aliens and transients before God, as were all our ancestors.”