A Journey of One Thousand Miles: the Story of Ruth and Naomi Page 4

  “He is called, ‘beth Haluts ha-na`al,’ ‘the house of the discarded sandal.”

  “That’s an odd name,” commented Ruth.

  Naomi smiled, “That’s because you don’t know the ceremony he has to do, where after the elders try and convince him to marry his brother’s widow, and he refuses, the widow removes a sandal from his foot and spits in his face before everyone who is sitting in the gates of the city. The name reminds him of his shame.”

  Ruth drew a breath. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting such shame. To be spit in the face in public: it would be embarrassing for everyone to know that one refused to keep his dead brother’s name alive.

  Naomi continued with her plan. “Tonight, he will be winnowing barley on the threshing floor. I am sure he will sleep there when he finishes. Wash and perfume yourself tonight, and put on your best clothes …”

  “What are you suggesting?” asked Ruth, suddenly apprehensive.

  “In my merit, you should go down to the threshing floor, but don’t let him know that you are there until he finishes his evening meal. Then, when he lies down, take note, and after he falls asleep uncover his feet and lie down by them.”

  “I don’t understand.” Ruth was confused. She wasn’t sure what her mother-in-law was asking her to do.

  “He’s a sage. Revealing his feet will hint to him the commandment of yibum-levirate marriage and the halitsah ceremony. He’ll recognize his obligation.”

  Ruth nodded, understanding her mother-in-law’s plan, but she was terrified nonetheless. There were a myriad of things that could happen between here and the threshing floor, between now and the time Boaz would lay down to sleep. What if something went wrong? She took a deep breath; she would trust the Almighty, and her mother-in-law.

  “I will do whatever you say,” whispered Ruth.

  ***

  Ruth crept down to the threshing floor. She had done everything as her mother-in-law had instructed. While her steps were silent, the beating of her heart was so deafening in her ears that she was sure that it would give her away. She snuck behind and between two towering mounds of grain, watching and waiting, her lips silently beseeching the Holy One’s providence.

  She watched as Boaz ate his evening meal. Again, her heart soared at the sight of him. His face seemed to glow from some inner radiance. Ruth was sure that heavenly angels must not be much different. She watched him drink his wine at the conclusion of his meal, and then offer blessings of thanks. He seemed especially in good spirits as he laid out a sheepskin on the floor at the edge of the grain pile. He then lay down, covering himself with a large woolen shawl.

  Soon, Ruth heard the steady rhythmic breathing of someone sleeping, yet she waited longer to be sure. Finally, her anxiety to act was outweighed by the tension of waiting and she silently moved towards the sleeping figure, and gingerly uncovered his feet, and lay down beside them.

  Around midnight, something stirred and Boaz awoke with a start, his body shaking inexplicably; cold and fear gripped him. He reached down to recover his covering and by his feet lay a figure. He grabbed its shoulders and demanded, “Mi ata? Who are you?” His mind raced with possibilities. Fearing both the natural and the unnatural, he wondered if it was a robber or a night demon. As his hands groped toward the figure’s head, they disrupted its head covering, and the unmistakable locks of a woman’s hair caressed his hands.

  Ruth was shocked into silence at first. She awoke to Boaz’s tightening grip on her shoulders, and her tongue froze.

  “Mi ata? Who are you?” Boaz repeated. He began to realizing that the figure was human and further that it was a woman, and his tone softened, when he demanded a second time, “Mi … at? Who are you?”

  “Anokhi Ruth, amathekha. I’m Ruth,” she stuttered out the words, “your maidservant.” As her mind returned to her control, she repeated the expression that Naomi had rehearsed with her, “ufarasta kh’nafekha `al amath’kha ki gho-el ata. Spread the corners of your garment over your maidservant, for you are my redeemer.”

  Boaz released Ruth as he leapt to his feet. His mind raced; did this young girl just request that an old man like himself take her as his bride?

  “Barukhah at l’adon, biti. May the Almighty bless you, my daughter,” Boaz’s voice was a whisper. He was deeply moved that this young woman, a stranger and even younger than any of his daughters, identified so strongly with the Holy One of Yisrael and His Law that she would give herself over to an old man like himself.

  “This is a Hesed, a kindness, greater than that which you showed earlier,” said Boaz, referring to Ruth’s ministering of Naomi. “That you should turn to me, to establish the name of the deceased, may the Almighty bless you my child. You didn’t run after the young men, rich or poor, despite the fact that your beauty has attracted attention. It is clear that you have come here for the sake of Heaven.” Boaz’s eyes welled with tears. He felt honored by the merit of seeing such devotion to the Almighty.

  He saw in Ruth reparation and atonement of the sins of former generations. Ruth descended from Moav who began through a union between father and daughter. Later, the nation of Moav tried, and almost succeeded in bringing Yisrael to ruin through promiscuity. Yet, here was a daughter of Moav who kept herself pure, offering herself to a man, not because of any selfish interest or physical desire, but to keep the name and seed of her deceased husband’s family alive.

  Again he repeated, “Bless you, biti.” Ruth felt a surge from the blessing, as if it had been delivered from Heaven itself. “B’zkhuth nash’im tsadqani’oth, It’s through the deeds of her righteous women, that Yisrael merits heavenly blessing,” whispered Boaz, repeating a common aphorism of the sages.

  Boaz took several breaths, reveling in the moment. He considered the situation. Ruth also seemed unable to move or to speak.

  Finally Boaz broke the silence. “And now, biti, do not fear. I will do for you as you ask. Everyone who has passed through the gates of my people already knows you to be a noble woman.”

  Ruth’s gasp was audible. She closed her eyes, her heart voicing offering her thanks to heaven in place of her lips, for she was overwhelmed by the moment. Boaz had just agreed to take her as a wife and establish MaHlon’s seed. She barely heard the rest of his words.

  “Yet now,” continued Boaz, “even though I am a potential redeemer for you, there is another who is a closer relation than me.”

  Ruth broke from her reverie. She didn’t quite understand. She thought that she had just heard him agree to marry her, and now he was demurring? Her eyes betrayed her question.

  Offering a gentle smile, though he wasn’t sure if she could see it in the darkness, Boaz tried to reassure her. “Sleep here tonight. You’ll be safe here, and in the morning I will talk with the redeemer of whom I spoke. If he is prepared to redeem you, well and good. But if not, then I will redeem you and take you as my wife. As surely as the Holy One lives, this will be the last night you will be forced to sleep alone. Lie here until the morning, my daughter - biti.”

  Ruth nodded, trusting in the sage’s wisdom, and while she was willing to accept whatever Heaven would decree, a small part of her hoped for this angelic sage.

  Hearing her name, Ruth awoke from her sleep, though she didn’t remember dozing off. It was still dark, but the eastern horizon began to glow in anticipation of the morning lights. Boaz had awakened her, and now he beckoned her to leave, “So, it shouldn’t become known that a woman came to the threshing floor,” he said, fearing the misunderstanding that might ensue.

  When Ruth was ready to leave, Boaz called her over. “Bring me one of your head scarves and hold it out.”

  Ruth removed one of the head scarves, and held it out while Boaz poured into it six measures of barley. As he poured each measure, Boaz mentioned that each represented a different blessing that he now bestowed on Ruth’s seed: “Ru-aH Hokhmah ubinah, ru-aH `atsah ug’vurah, ru-aH
da`ath w’yirath hashamay’im. The spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and restraint, the spirit of knowledge and awe of heaven.” He then placed the full scarf on her head, so she could carry it home.

  Shortly after Ruth left, the elder made preparations to go to town and the gates of the city. He had business to attend to.

  When Ruth returned to her mother-in-law, Naomi asked excitedly, “How did it go, daughter?”

  The tension inside of Ruth broke and the entire episode came out in a rush, everything mixed together. Naomi listened intently. After she had finished her tale, the tension now dissipated, Ruth remembered herself and presented Naomi with the bundle of grain, “He gave me these six measures of barley, saying that I should not return to you empty handed.”

  Naomi had trouble containing herself as well. She recognized the symbolism. It was akin to a bride’s price. Providence had certainly been good to them. She gripped her daughter-in-law’s shoulders as much to steady herself, as Ruth. The grip reminded Ruth of Boaz’s only a few short hours ago.

  With a smile that radiated her entire countenance, Naomi said gleefully, “Wait, daughter, for the results are soon to come to fruition. That man will not rest until the matter is settled this very day.” Naomi pulled her daughter-in-law into her arms hugging her tightly. “Blessed is the Holy One of Yisrael, who brought me to this moment.”

  “Amen,” answered Ruth, her body alive with anticipation of the day’s events.

  Chapter 4

  Birth Pangs

  BethleHem

  Boaz watched Ruth leave. He stood in awe of the Holy One’s ways. Drawing a breath, he walked to a small hollow a few amoth away from the threshing floor. There was a break in the earth, and below was a small pool of water. Boaz disrobed and immersed himself in the cold, clean water, refreshing his soul and purifying his body. He exited the pool and dressed.

  Returning to the threshing floor, he went to where he had left his possessions and removed a large woolen shawl. Its corners were adorned with the ritual fringe ordained for the Holy One’s nation. He meditated on the commandment to fringe the four-cornered garment, and then wrapped his head and shoulders in the Almighty’s embrace.

  Boaz opened a leather pouch, and removed a small black leather box. A leather strap trailed. He placed the box on his left bicep, underneath the shawl, affixing it in place with the strap so that, pointing forward, it leaned slightly towards his chest. He wrapped the strap down his arm and around his middle finger. Boaz took a second box from the pouch, and placed it between the crown of his head and his brow, its leather strap circling from either side around his head, to rest in a knot at the nape of his neck. It resembled, to some extent, a coronet.

  The boxes, the oth and the totafoth, contained selected passages from the laws of the Holy One. The passages contained those requirements to wear these “reminders” of His covenant with the nation of Yisrael; a symbol that one’s thoughts and actions should be bound to the Holy.

  Boaz covered his eyes with his other hand, and recited those passages, meditating on each word, on the unity of the universe and its Creator. He allowed the holiness of the words to fill him, as he tried to elevate his soul towards the heavens.

  Completing the passages, he turned and faced northwards, towards the city of Shiloh, where the Mishqan, the tabernacle of the Holy One, currently rested. He focused on the spot between the two keruvim, the figures that rested on top of the Aron HaBrith, the Ark of the Covenant. Boaz directed his thoughts and his soul to that spot, the gates of heaven, and began his ascent. He sank to his knees on the sheepskin rug, bowing forward till his face brushed the rug, his hands folded on his chest. Boaz then extended his arms and legs, prostrating himself before the Sovereign of the Universe.

  Boaz’s lips offered praise and gratitude to the Source of Life; the Holy One Who in His kindness had made a covenant with Boaz’s ancestors, a covenant that bound their descendants, as much as it enriched them. The elder focused his being, ascending from chamber to chamber in the Holy Palace. By the time his soul had arrived in the innermost chamber, the sage had nullified his will, his self and his being, to a level where he could be filled with the presence of the Infinite Being.

  Boaz’s conversation with the Almighty extended nearly an hour before he brought himself up to his knees, and then to his feet, returning to the world of the physical, but carrying with him the abundance of the divine. He breathed deeply, rejoicing in the worship of the Holy One, a gift as much as an obligation. His face was moist from tears, his mind resonating with clarity of thought. He was refreshed. The Almighty had filled Boaz with understanding. Boaz felt His Light, the afterglow of being in His Presence, coursing through him.

  He left the threshing floor as the sky was clear and bright. The morning sun hung above the horizon. As he walked towards the gates of BethleHem, he rejoiced in the ways of the Holy One. This woman, Ruth, was special. From the moment he first saw her collecting sheaves in his fields, he had sensed that her destiny and that of Yisrael were linked. Her fidelity to the Almighty was so straightforward and uncomplicated that it filled him with awe.

  He shook his head and sighed. He, himself, yearned for such simple, complete faith, for surely nothing could be stronger. It was what he constantly strived for, but as a sage and an elder of Yisrael, he was often so entrenched in inquiry and analysis that such wholeness sometimes seemed lost to him. He had trained himself too well to always see the other side. Being tam, simple, in his relationship with the Holy One took effort. Thanks to the Almighty he fortuned to meet this young woman. If nothing else, it had strengthened his own bond with his Father in Heaven.

  Deep in thought, he almost didn’t notice the man he was seeking pass by. “Friend,” he called out to the redeemer of whom he had spoken to Ruth. “Come with me, my friend,” he said taking the redeemer in his arm and leading him back towards the gates of the city.

  BethleHem’s city gates weren’t much more than a wide open pavilion with low stone benches along the walls. The street was crowded as many of the farmers and their workers were making their way to their fields. The redeemer, himself, had been on his way to his field, but when the Father of the Court called him over, he was happy to oblige. The redeemer liked Boaz and had pride in the fact that such a great man in Yisrael was his kinsman.

  Boaz grabbed a young boy as he was jostling past. “You, you’re Gedalyah’s son, aren’t you.”

  “ken kavodo. Yes, your honor,” a mixture of fear and awe on the young boy’s face, wondering what kind of trouble he might have gotten into now.

  Calming the boy with an easy smile, “Can you do me a favor and fetch your father for me, and as many other elders as you see along the way?”

  “Ken kavodo!” the boy nearly shouted, full of joy that he was asked to be doing such a great man a favor instead of being taken to task for something he might have done. He quickly sped off into the town.

  Boaz indicated a space on one of the stone benches. “Come over here and sit down,” he said to the redeemer, Paloni, who readily accepted his kinsman’s invitation. Curiosity gripped him, but he knew that if Boaz called the elders together, he wouldn’t reveal anything until the court was seated. He resigned himself to waiting.

  Paloni didn’t need to wait long. After a few brief moments, he saw Gedalyah’s son leading his father and nine other elders towards the pavilion. All of them wore the large woolen shawl of their office over their head and shoulders. Like most of the men passing through the gates of the town that morning, each was also crowned with their totafoth, the small black boxes containing passages of the Holy Scriptures bound to the crown of the head with a leather strap. Hidden beneath the folds of the shawl was a matching black box, an ‘oth. It too was strapped into place on their weak arms with a leather strap, which in this case snaked down the arm to be wrapped around the middle finger.

  Smiling, Boaz bowed slightly to the bo
y, “Thank you.” Producing a dried date from the folds of his robe, he tossed it to the boy, who caught it with a smile. Boaz winked and added, “Now, run along and stay out of trouble.”

  The elders sat in a row along one side of the pavilion. Gedalyah, sat in the middle of the row. He understood from Boaz’s posture that he was a petitioner and wouldn’t be leading the session today. Boaz stood between the assembled court and his kinsman, the redeemer. Gedalyah nodded for Boaz to begin.

  Addressing the redeemer, but clearly so the court could hear, Boaz began, “A plot of land which belongs to our brother, Elimelekh is being sold by Naomi, who has returned from the fields of Moav. I have said, and reveal this in your hearing so that you might respond, for you have first right of acquisition, and request you declare your intent to acquire it before those that are seated here, before the elders of my people. Im ti’gh-ol, g’al. w’im lo yigh-al hagi-da li w’edh’`a, ki eyn zulath’kha ligh-ol w’anokhi aHarekha. If you will redeem it, then redeem it. However, if you will not redeem it, declare it to me now, so that I may know. For no one holds the rights to redeem it save yourself, and I am next in line.”

  Paloni’s eyes moved from Boaz to the elders and back to Boaz. If Boaz was interested in this plot of land, it must be a choice piece of property. He had forgotten about Elimelekh’s land, but the prospect of adding to his own holdings was appealing. He had a good harvest this year, and he could afford to seed more fields next season. He looked up at Boaz. “anokhi egh-al. I shall redeem it,” he declared.

  Boaz nodded his acceptance, and then, shifting his body slightly away from the redeemer and towards the court. “On the day that you acquire the field from the hand of Naomi, and,” Boaz paused dramatically, “and from Ruth the Moavith, you also acquire the wife of the deceased, so that the name of the deceased will be established along with his inheritance.”

  The redeemer was taken aback. Marry the Moavith? Yet, he thought, wasn’t that forbidden? Didn’t the Torah forbid it? He knew there was a dispute about it; he had heard the scholars arguing ever since Naomi’s return, but fear gripped him. No field was worth risking sanctions from the Almighty. It might put his current holdings at risk.