Ruth and Refugio

It is tempting, reading the Book of Ruth, to absorb the story in charmed, dreamlike terms. Here is Ruth, the beautiful young woman, recently widowed but dedicated to her mother-in-law, Naomi. Lovely and captivating, she rejects her Moabite background to accompany Naomi, also widowed, back to Bethlehem in Israel. Israel, occupying the moral high ground, where anyone would prefer to live. She seems the epitome of a girl at peace. 

Or perhaps not.

In her treatise on “Hospitality” (Dorothy Bass, Practicing our Faith) Ana Maria Pineda tells the story of Refugio, who fled an abusive marriage in Central America with her three small children. She had been beaten regularly, but had remained in the marriage until her husband began beating the children;  finally she gathered the courage to leave. It was risky. Her husband was a town leader and his family would go to great lengths to protect his reputation. All signs of impropriety were suppressed. Her departure would, in their eyes, dishonor him, and they would go to great lengths to prevent it.

After weeks of indecision she recalled the name of a relative who had left the village a few years before to live in the United States. She discretely managed to locate and contact him, sharing her dilemma and asking for his help. Finally a cryptic message arrived giving her directions for travelling to a city in the US. It would be less dangerous, he said, if she avoided the town where he lived.

Pineda says, “At the designated hour she and her children boarded a small van. They crouched down as they were driven across the US border. From there, they traveled for what seemed an eternity. Refugio was filled with self-doubt. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea to leave her husband. What would she do in this strange land? She could not speak the language. She did not have much money, and what would she do once it was spent? As the children began to fret and cry, her fear increased, and she felt helpless to assure them that all would be well. Finally, overcome by weariness, Refugio fell asleep.”

Now consider Ruth, encouraged to return to her family. But she will be excluded and shamed for marrying a foreigner, someone outside the tribe. She has dishonored her family and she will be dishonored in turn. To go back is dangerous, to go to Israel is equally perilous. Her sister decides to return and face whatever consequences await. Ruth determines to stay with the threat she knows.

But it isn’t easy. Naomi tries over and over to dissuade her. “No, you can’t come. No, stay here. No, stop following me.” But Ruth says in effect, “I’m coming. No matter where I go, my life is forfeit. I’m coming with you. Your God will be my God.”

And so they straggle into town, Ruth following at a distance while Naomi grieves her widowhood and the unfairness of God toward her. The people of Bethlehem don’t recognize her. “Can this be Naomi? She doesn’t look like Naomi. Too distraught!”

 “Don’t call me Naomi,” she tells them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”

After they arrive Ruth determines to pay her way, Naomi being without financial support. But the work at the barley harvest can be a dangerous as well. Especially with the gleaners, who are more than willing to take advantage of a young single woman. But she ends up in a field belonging to Boaz, a relative, who asks, “Who does that young woman belong to?” He instructs her to stay close to the women working there and says, “I have told the men not to lay a hand on you.” Because they might try; otherwise why mention it? So Ruth, and by association Naomi, have fallen under the protection of Boaz. She asks him, “Why have I found such favor in your eyes that you notice me—a foreigner?”

Boaz replies, “I’ve been told all about what you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband—how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.”

Refugio: Delivered safely to Little Havana, she awakens to tranquility in a sleepy neighborhood that bids her welcome, offering her a place to rest, and to live.  

Ruth (or is she also Refugio, the refugee?): Delivered safely to Bethlehem, a sleepy village. She has followed in the wake of bitter grieving Naomi, wondering, perhaps, whether the townspeople there will simply imprison her for a while and then snatch her back to Moab because, after all, she is a foreigner. It is fortuitous that she instead lives in safety beneath the wings of the Lord/Boaz. It leaves one wondering whose protection she would fall under today if she were to follow her mother-in-law across our southern border.