Naomi was no longer a young woman, and the bitterness of life weighed heavily on her.  It had not always been that way—once she had been young and happy.  Naomi.  Her name, Naomi, means pleasant.

          She grew up in Bethlehem, the same town where Jesus would be born, more than a thousand years later.

          Naomi had married a man named Elimelech.  He was a land-owner in Israel—the Promised Land.

          But tough times came in Bethlehem.  The name, ‘Bethlehem,’ means ‘house of bread.’  But now, there was no bread in Bethlehem.  A famine parched the land, and the crops failed.  They had nothing to eat.

          There was nothing to do but to go somewhere else and find work.  So Naomi and Elimelech took their two sons and went to live in the land of Moab.  They hoped the famine would end quickly and they would return to Bethlehem.

          But the famine lasted longer than they had expected. Naomi must have longed to return to her home in Bethlehem, where they were not strangers; where she had friends and relatives and where the people worshipped God.

          Instead, tragedy struck.  Elimelech died, and Naomi was forced to bury her husband’s body in foreign soil.  Can you even imagine how hard it was for her, far from her home with no husband? Somehow, Naomi managed to eke out a meager living for herself and her two sons, Mahlon and Chilion.

          Time passed, and both of Naomi’s sons married Moabite women.  Of course that was not the way it was supposed to be.  Moabites were idol worshippers.  Naomi knew that God had told Moses that the Israelites—her people—were not to marry idol worshippers.

          Yet these two Moabite women—Naomi’s daughters-in-law, had become as daughters to her.

          She told them of her people back in Bethlehem, and she told them about the one true God that her people worshipped.  She told them how much she longed for the day when she would once again worship God with her own people in Israel, in her home town of Bethlehem.

          Then, once again Naomi’s life was struck with tragedy.  One by one, Naomi’s sons both died, and they, too, were buried in the foreign land of Moab.

          Naomi was devastated.  Left alone in a foreign land, she had lost her husband, and now both of her two sons—both taken before God had blessed their marriages with children.

          Once, she had had the blessing of husband and sons, but now, in a society where child-bearing was her greatest source of value, she had lost everything.

          Naomi was plunged into deep despair.  It had been ten long years now since they had left Bethlehem.  Ten years in a foreign land of idol worshippers, without the comfort of family and friends.

Ten years of hardship, helplessly watching her family die, until she was left with nothing but two foreign daughters-in-law.

          One day, Naomi heard some good news.  Word was that the famine had finally ended in Bethlehem.  This time, the rains had come at the right time, and soon there would be a bountiful harvest of barley, followed by a harvest of wheat.

          Naomi lifted herself from her despondence and determined to make the journey back to Bethlehem.

          It would not be an easy journey.  Certainly she would not be returning as she had once imagined, walking proudly beside her husband and her two sons.  But at least she could go back and die in her own land.

          Naomi started out from the land of Moab, which today is the country of Jordan.  She would walk around the north end of the Dead Sea, crossing the Jordan River, and then head southwest toward Jerusalem, climbing into the hill country of Judea to the little town of Bethlehem.

          She wondered whether she would live to complete that difficult trip.  But then, what difference did it make, whether she died here in Moab or on the journey?

          Then there was the problem of what to do about Ruth and Orpah, her two widowed daughters-in-law.  When they had married, they had come to live in her household.  But now, what could she offer them?  Nothing.

          “Go back, each of you, to your mother’s home,” she told them.  “May the Lord show kindness to you, as you have shown to your dead and to me.  May the Lord grant that each of you will find rest in the home of another husband.”

          Then, she kissed them, and the three of them wept.  And the young women protested; “We will go back with you to your people.”

          But Naomi said, “No, you must return home, my daughters.  Why would you come with me?  Am I going to have any more sons, who could become your husbands?  Return home, my daughters; I am too old to have another husband.  Even if I thought there was still hope for me—even if I had a husband tonight and then gave birth to sons—would you wait until they grew up?”  They laughed through their tears.  Leave it to Naomi to make them laugh at such a time.

          Then, she spoke with great sorrow.  “No, my daughters.  It is more bitter for me than for you, because the Lord’s hand has gone out against me.” 

          And they wept again.  Then, Orpah put her arm around Naomi and kissed her.  “You are right,” she said.  And she left.

          But Ruth still clung to Naomi.  “Look, Ruth,” Naomi said, “Your sister-in-law is going back to her people and to her gods.  God back with her.”

          Then Ruth stood tall and spoke firmly.  “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you.  Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay.  Your people will be my people and your God my God.  Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried.  May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me.”

          Naomi looked at this determined young woman, and saw someone she had never seen before.  Her heart was so touched that she could not even speak.  And the two of them set out towards Bethlehem.

          Now, we don’t know how long it took them, or how difficult their journey was.  We do know that they would have walked, and the journey was at least sixty miles.  We know they did not have Nike walking shoes, and there were no fast-food restaurants along the way.

          So it doesn’t take much imagination to know that they must have been exhausted when they finally arrived in Bethlehem.  They came to Bethlehem, and Nomi probably collapsed, while Ruth brought her water from the town’s well.

          And like all small towns, word traveled quickly.  And the women of the town gathered around and exclaimed in wonder, “Can this be Naomi?”  But Naomi did not even lift her head. 

          “Naomi, it’s good to see you.”  But Naomi did not answer.

          “Naomi, have ten years really passed?”

          “Can this be Naomi?”

          Finally, Naomi spoke.  “Don’t call me Naomi.  Call me Bitter.  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.”

          And the women of Bethlehem looked at her in silence.  They saw that the past ten years had changed their friend—the one whose name, Naomi, meant pleasant.

          They looked at her frail, dust-covered body.  Her venomous words echoed in their hearts—Call me Bitter.  And to speak in such a way against the Almighty!

          And one by one, they went silently back to their homes, pondering.

          Let me ask you.  What would you say to Naomi?

          Would you wonder if God was punishing her for going to Moab, that land of idol-worshippers?

          Would you accuse her of blasphemy?

          Would you tell her to lighten up—to get a grip—that bitterness was a sin and she needed to repent?

          And what about God?  Is Naomi right when she says the Almighty has brought misfortune upon her?  Naomi poses some very difficult problems for us, doesn’t she?

          Because in order to answer Naomi, we need to ask, “Who is God? And “How does God interact in our lives?”

          Naomi sees herself as a useless, dried-up heap of rags.  In her bitterness, she has lashed out at God, and now she collapses into a heap.  Perhaps, after what she has just said, she is waiting for God to strike her dead.

          Faced with Naomi’s bitterness, the women of Bethlehem have nothing to say.

          And the chapter closes like this:

“So Naomi returned from Moab accompanied by Ruth the Moabitess, her daughter-in-law, arriving in Bethlehem as the barley harvest was beginning.”

          A woman full of bitterness and despair has returned to her home town, and it seems that no one has even offered her a place to stay.  But there is this daughter-in-law, Ruth, the Moabitess—an outsider.  The residents of Bethlehem are busy—the barley harvest is beginning.  They have curiously eyed Ruth, this foreign woman who has come with Naomi, and have decided to leave them both alone.

          So Naomi must love Ruth all the more.  She has come back to the place of her family and friends, but it seems that Ruth is now her family and her friend.  Ruth’s words of commitment must comfort Naomi:  “Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay.  Your people will be my people, and your God my God.”

          How is it that this Moabite woman is able to make this remarkable pledge?  What is it that made her want to leave her homeland and go with this bitter woman?  Does she know what she is saying when she says “Your people will be my people, and your God my God?”

          Consider this.  Ruth has been with Naomi for quite a while.  Probably Naomi has not always felt so bitter and hopeless.  Probably Naomi comforted Ruth when Ruth’s husband died.

          Living under the same roof, she got to know Naomi very well.  She saw that Naomi did not worship idols, but prayed to God.  Certainly Naomi told her about the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  How her people were once slaves in Egypt, and how Moses led the people out of Egypt.

          She must have told her about the commandments, and the words so loved by her people:  “Hear O Israel, The Lord our God, the Lord is one.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your strength.”

          Still, Ruth was a Moabite, and Naomi was an Israelite.  Their people were bitter enemies.  But somehow, Naomi’s words rang true in Ruth’s ears.  God became real to this Moabite woman.  And I think Ruth knew exactly what she was pledging when she said she wanted Naomi’s God to be her God.

          God called Ruth the Moabite just as surely as he called Abraham or Moses or Joshua.  Ruth has seen beyond Naomi’s bitterness and has grasped the loving compassion of Naomi’s God—even when Naomi herself has forgotten it.

          Naomi is so broken by hardship that she has come to see suffering as the essence of her existence.  But God, that God of surprises—that God who is always doing a new thing—is going to use this foreign woman, Ruth, to bring healing to Naomi.  In the next two weeks, we will hear the rest of this wonderful story of healing.

          Naomi is like many, many women and men, down through the centuries and around the world who have fallen on hard times.  Sometimes, they have brought hardship on themselves.  Other times, they are simply victims of circumstances.  Many times, they are, like Naomi, despondent and bitter; weighed down with difficulties.

          Perhaps you are like Naomi, and bitterness has taken away your joy.  God wants to do a miracle of healing in your heart.

          Or perhaps you are like Ruth, and God wants to use you to minister to someone who needs healing.  Perhaps you need to do what Ruth did, and let someone know that you will always be there for them, even when they are weighed down with bitterness.

          Sometimes, our act of friendship and love is simply a small gift of encouragement.

          Today, we have brought all these shoebox gifts that we have prepared to send to children around the world.  These gifts are small, but they convey the message that someone cares.  It is our prayer, as we pack and send these gifts, that lives will be touched by the love that led us to give these gifts. 

          There are so many people in the world who have so much less than we do.  Many people suffer from the ravages of war and famine and generational poverty.  There are many, many parents around the world today who have little or nothing to give their children. 

          Sending these small gifts is just a very small way of extending our love and good will to the needy.  It is our prayer that each one of these gifts will be a blessing to a needy child.

Prayer:  Lord, we have brought gifts today, hoping that our gifts will be a blessing to a needy child.  Thank you for inviting us to give in this way.  Today we have heard the story of Naomi, a woman whose life was hard, and who had become bitter.  How many Naomis are there in the world today, even perhaps here in our midst?  God, we ask for healing for the Naomis among us, and we ask that you would show us how to be instruments of your healing in their lives.    Amen