For many of us, Lenten discipline is linked to giving up some food in order to cleanse our bodies as well as our souls. Diet is certainly one place we can look to make changes. Too often, and I speak for myself, we are more eager to fill a craving than eat something nutritious. So, it can be good to give up chocolate, or meat, or cola, or some other food that perhaps isn’t healthy for us. There is another side to that discipline, however, that we often don’t think about or don’t want to consider. Are we filling physical hunger or trying to fill a soul’s emptiness? Is food a substitute for a real relationship with someone or even with God? What am I really craving—chocolate or relationship? As we begin to look at simplifying our lives to become more authentic and complete sons and daughters of God, it's important to look at some of these 'issues', too. Of course, food isn't a problem for everyone, but each of us, if we are honest, has something that we use to fill the emptiness of soul that comes sometimes.
The story of Naomi is that of a woman whose life is consumed with regrets until she finally comes to realize that relationship with others and with God is what she really needs. We don’t know a lot about Naomi, except for snippets in the Book of Ruth. Her plaintive cry is one that many of us could echo when we feel that life and/or God is treating us badly. “Do not call me Naomi, call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has afflicted me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me.” (Ruth 2:20-21)
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In my book, Naomi’s Joy, she spent her life trying to fill an empty soul by attempting to control her sons and live up to what she believed were God's expectations of her. She only learned real peace when she faced God who, she discoved, loved her more than she could imagine. After she and Ruth return to Bethlehem, she is forced to admit her need, first to God and then to the women of the town.
After the young woman left in the morning, I faced south. Somewhere in the far distance lay the holy mountain. I could picture the cloud covered summit in my mind.
“God of Israel, is this your answer?” I held out my empty hands. “I do not have any offering to bring. Do not allow Ruth to be shamed. I pray you, raise up a protector for her. Do not hold my sins against this innocent girl.”
I felt better after my prayer. For the first time since Adah died, I did not feel entirely weighed down by a sense of condemnation. My heart and step were both lighter when I walked to the well. Several women greeted me with smiles and questions.
“What is it like in Moab?”
“I am sorry for your loss.”
“Naomi, how does it feel to be home?”
“I…it…it is good to be back,” with a little surprise I realized that it was true.
“I heard that your daughter-in-law goes to the fields to glean for you.”
“Ruth is a great help,” I nodded.
“You are fortunate to have her.”
“Yes,” readily I agreed. “She has been fortunate in her gleaning. I need to thresh the grain she has gathered.”
I lifted my water jar and hurried away before any further questions were raised. I wished that my old friend Rachel was alive. It would have been comforting to talk to her.
“She died last winter soon after the Feast of Atonement,” Rahab told me when she returned the day after we arrived.
“Oh!” My cry of dismay was sharp.
“Rachel often spoke of you,” the widow told me. “Her sons have cared for the fields of Elimelech along with Boaz and the son of Samson. The heritage of your husband has been preserved.”
“It will do me little good,” the words were out before I thought of my audience.
“The Law of Moses declares that a widow is to be cared for by the nearest kinsman. Someone will step forward as ga-al,” a soft hand covered mine in an attempt at comfort.
“That is why I returned,” I had to swallow my pride to admit the truth.
“The Living Lord will provide for you,” Rahab sounded positive.
“I hope so,” my response was lost in the folds of my veil when I bent my head.
Some of my loneliness and grief eased while I threshed the bounty of grain and ground enough for a loaf of bread as a treat for Ruth.
“Um, that smells wonderful,” the young woman sniffed happily when she entered the house.
“I thought you would like it,” I smiled to see my friend savoring the bread.
It was worth the bangle from my wrist to see her delight as she spread the fresh slices with the goat cheese and olives I purchased with it.
“This is the end of the early barley harvest. Suzanne says that the second harvest will begin after a couple of Sabbaths,” Ruth stated the next afternoon. She arrived earlier than I expected. “Tomorrow I will take what we have to be ground if you want.”*
Even though she has admitted her need and begins to reach out in love, Naomi does not fully comprehend the depth of God’s love for her until her grandson is born. Then she can testify to her family about what she learned.
“God is gracious,” the old woman affirmed exultantly when she finished her recital. “Now I hold the promise for the future in my arms. The Almighty has restored my life and renewed my faith. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob has blessed me beyond anything I expected. I was wrong to think that the Holy One turned away when we were in Moab. Even when my husband died and my sons were killed, I was never alone. The Living Lord showed me love in the loyalty of Ruth and in the circumstances that brought me home to Bethlehem.”
“My mother,” Ruth laid her soft hand over the wrinkled one of her mother-in-law. “I promised that wherever you are, I will be. Your God is my God.”*
Naomi learned that her emptiness was a spiritual hunger of her soul for relationship with the Holy God she believed abandoned her. Like Job, God returns to her more than she lost. “Then the women said to Naomi, “Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without next of kin….He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age; for your daughter-in-law who loves you, who is more to you than seven sons, has born him.” (Ruth 4:14-15)
If you gave up some food for Lent, consider looking deeper into the motivation for desiring that food. How does denying yourself, say chocolate, bring you into a closer relationship with God? Sweets are my downfall, I admit, partly because they are comforting when I feel down and far from God or humans. Having a cookie helps me to feel better about myself in some subconscious way. I wonder…would saying a prayer of thanksgiving have the same effect? Worth thinking about isn’t it?
A friend recently gave me a card with an inscription by Ann Ruth Schabader “Each day comes bearing its gifts. Untie the ribbons.” How would our lives change if we welcomed all that God sends with enthusiastic joy like the child (my grandson) in the picture? I wonder if we would need the substitutes delights of our addictions...It certainly would make us more joyful.
See you next week when we meet Abigail, another little known woman in the Bible with a story to tell.
*All quotations are from Naomi’s Joy by Cynthia Davis. Available online from Amazon.com and the author.
