Where You Go

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Ruth 1:1-18; Ephesians 6:1-4; John 19:25-27

August 4/5, 2012 • Portage First UMC

We have a framed picture hanging downstairs in our house, right next to the kids’ rooms, which was given to us many years ago. It’s a prayer, one I have to often resort to, which says, “Lord, give me the patience to endure my blessings!” Don’t we sometimes feel that way about our families? The one set of relationships we’re born into is often the most difficult to navigate through, which is why, I would imagine, George Burns once said, “Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city.” And George Bernard Shaw put it this way: “When our relatives are at home, we have to think of all their good points or it would be impossible to endure them.” Most of the time, most of us love our families, but then there are those moments that creep up on us, that get under our skin and stay there. Home may be the place, as Robert Frost said, where they have to take you in, but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy. How do you practice love toward those who are biologically related to you?

This evening/morning, we’re beginning a new series for the month of August, asking that question about all sorts of relationships. Our English language is rather limited, with just one word to describe all sorts of different feelings and emotions and behaviors. In the Greek language, which the New Testament was written in, there are four words for “love,” each one describing a different experience. So using those four words, for the next four weeks, we’re going to be looking at different ways we’re called to love others. Next week, we’ll talk about the love we share with friends, and the following week we’ll focus on the relationship between husbands and wives. Then, the final week, we’ll talk about the all-encompassing, no-strings-attached sort of love God has for every one of us. But this morning, we’re going to begin at a very basic level, at the most basic building block of our society. The word is “storge” and it refers to family love. And, though the word storge is not found in the New Testament, love of family is depicted all throughout both the Old and New Testaments. Family is where we learn first what love is, and one of the most prominent places we see that in the Scriptures is in a story about a woman named Ruth.

Ruth was not a Hebrew. She was from the country of Moab. Moab was just over on the other side of the Dead Sea (cf. Goldingay, Joshua, Judges & Ruth for Everyone, pg. 164), south of Jerusalem and Bethlehem. In fact, when we were at the Dead Sea in June, our guide pointed out the “mountains of Moab.” We could see them clearly, so Israel and Moab were close neighbors…geographically. However, as with a lot of close neighbors, they didn’t always get along. Now, it’s not clear in Ruth’s time what relations were like between Moab and Israel, especially since Israel at this time wasn’t really a unified country. They were ruled by judges, really more “heroes” who came to the people’s rescue when trouble came on the land. It was in that time that a famine hit. Famines aren’t all that uncommon in the land; it is a desert, after all. There are often long times without rainfall. But this famine was bad enough that a man from Bethlehem, Elimelek, decided he wasn’t going to be able to provide for his family, and since conditions seemed to be better in Moab, he moved his family there.

Though it may have been meant to be a temporary move, it seems to have become rather permanent when Elimelek unexpectedly died. You remember how we talked about widows a couple of weeks ago, how they had no one to support them and were often impoverished. Thankfully, Naomi, Elimelek’s widow, had two sons who would take care of her, and one of the signs that the family settled down to stay in Moab is that the sons marry Moabite women. They settle down into happy family life, presumably with at least a comfortable income, and then tragedy strikes again. Both sons die; we’re not told how or even if they died at the same time or some time apart. All we’re told is that, once again, Naomi is at a crossroads, and this time she has no one to support her. Not only that, but she now has two daughters-in-law to take care of. No income, no heirs, no job—the only occupation left open to most women in those days was prostitution, and Naomi can’t bring herself to do that. Nor does she want to beg. Aside from living in abject poverty, her only other option is to return home (cf. Driesbach, “Commentary on Ruth,” Cornerstone Biblical Commentary, Vol. 3, pg. 514), to Israel, to Bethlehem, and hope that there would still be family there who would take her in and care for her.

So Naomi, Orpah and Ruth start out on the road back toward Bethlehem, and along the way Naomi must have realized what she’s doing. She’s taking Moabite women back to Israel. To her, they’ve become family, but to those who haven’t known her now for ten years, they’re women from another culture, unclean, worshipping strange gods, perhaps. How will they be accepted? And will her family take them in as well? It’s going to be enough to try to feed Naomi, an extra mouth. Will her family accept three extra women? There was no benefit in these young women returning to Israel with Naomi (Dreisbach 517), so perhaps feeling some apprehension, or even some guilt that they are stuck tagging along with her, she tells them to go back to their mother’s house. “May the Lord show you kindness,” she tells them, “as you have shown kindness to your dead husbands and to me. May the Lord grant that each of you will find rest in the home of another husband” (1:8-9). When both of them insist on continuing with Naomi (which would have been the expected response in a culture that valued “haggling” over every arrangement), Naomi insists they go back to Moab. She points out that she is too old to have other sons, and even if she would, it would be wrong to ask these women to wait for them to grow up. Go home, she tells them. So Orpah does. But Ruth doesn’t. We’re told Ruth “clung” to Naomi. She “stayed close to” Naomi; she “joined” Naomi in whatever future awaited her. In fact, Ruth goes so far as to, in essence, renounce her other family and her past; she tells 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. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried” (1:16-17). She gives up her gods, her land, her right to be buried in her homeland and becomes Naomi’s family. You have to wonder—why?

Bible scholars have pondered that question, and speculated about it. Some suggest Ruth had no family to return to, or that her home life had been terrible or hard. Perhaps Naomi’s life was better than what she might go back to, though that’s hard to imagine. There are all sorts of thoughts, but perhaps it’s as simple as this: in whatever time she had been part of Naomi’s life, the two had become true family. Ruth saw something in Naomi that she wanted in her life. Perhaps it was Naomi’s faith, though that seems a bit shaken at this point, and besides that, in those days, faith was more a matter of cultural identity than personal choice. You typically didn’t choose your gods; in many ways, they “chose” you by where you lived. So perhaps faith plays into it, but for Ruth there seems to be something more going on here. Whatever was going through Ruth’s head, we do know this: at this moment, Ruth shows the meaning of the word “commitment,” of what “storge” or family love looks like. She is willing to give up everything else in order to be family for Naomi. While Orpah’s decision to return may seem to be the “smart one” (at least from Naomi’s viewpoint), it’s Ruth we remember because of her dogged determination to live out “storge,” family love (cf. Driesbach 518).

The word that echoes throughout the story of Ruth (and if you don’t know the whole story, I’d encourage you to read it this week) is “commitment.” Family love is first and foremost about commitment—radical commitment like Ruth demonstrates. Commitment that says you’ll do whatever it takes to uphold and care for your family members. The “sane” thing would have been for Ruth to return home, at least in the way we usually think. But Ruth is committed to Naomi and to her welfare. Since Naomi had lost all of her children, Ruth takes on the role that her children would have otherwise fulfilled, even to the point of gathering food for them when they get to Israel. In fact, at the end of the story, Naomi is told that Ruth “is better to you than seven sons” (4:15). “Storge” love says we do whatever it takes to care for and to uphold those whom God has put in our families.

We see that same spirit in the brief reading we had from the Gospel this morning. It’s actually a passage we looked at during the “Seven Last Words” series last Lent, where Jesus, from the cross, entrusts the care of his mother to the beloved disciple. Jesus, in the midst of his pain and agony, wants to make sure his mother is taken care of, and even though the beloved disciple may not have been a blood relative, he “took her into his home” from that moment on (19:27). He showed a “storge” commitment to Jesus’ mother. He cared for her and upheld her, and he would make that commitment no matter what else was to come.

Now, sometimes that gets interpreted this way: that Christian people should be doormats. No one may say it quite that way, but that’s often the way some see it. I knew a woman whose brother was constantly spending everything he got on alcohol and other things, so that when his bills came, he had nothing left to pay them. He came to her and asked for money, which she refused to give to him. His response? “I thought you were a Christian, and Christians were supposed to help those in need.” Well, she went through a time of guilt for refusing him—so does this sort of commitment and loyalty mean we’re supposed to be taken advantage of? Because we all, most likely, have those people in our families who would and could try to do that, to take advantage of our compassion and desire to help. But commitment is not a matter of being run over. It’s a matter of doing what is right for the one we love. Paul gives us a picture of that in his letter to the Ephesians.

In a couple of weeks, we’re going to look more at the passage that comes right before this one, because it deals directly with husbands and wives. It’s the famous “wives, submit to your husbands” passage, so you’ll want to be sure to be here for that one! But let me set up today’s instruction by reminding us of Ephesians 5:21, the verse that introduces all of these family directions. In that verse, Paul writes these words: “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” This was a radical teaching for families and individuals in the culture of Paul’s day. “Submit to one another” means that no one is over another. No one is the sole head. Rather, there is a mutual care and love and commitment you didn’t find in other places in the Roman world, though it does certainly reflect the sort of care we saw in the Ruth story. But, you see, the world Paul lived in was very hierarchical. The father called the shots, always. When it came to children, fathers held life and death power over each one. He could sell them as slaves, send them to work in the fields (even in chains), and even inflict the death penalty. When a child was born, he or she was placed at the father’s feet, and if the father picked up the child, that meant the child could live. If he walked away, the child was left out to die. And if they were left out, they might be picked up, most likely by people who would care for them until they could be sold to the slave trade or the brothels. Now, remember, this was Roman custom, not Hebrew, but that is the culture Paul is writing to when he gives these instructions for “storge,” family love, to the Ephesians. He’s writing to a world in which a son never came of age until his father died. Until that moment, the son was completely and always under the power of his father (Barclay, The Letters to the Galatians and Ephesians, pgs. 175-176).

To that world, Paul and the Christian Gospel say this: “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right” (6:1). Paul links that to what he calls the “first commandment with a promise”—commandment meaning the Ten Commandments. “Honor your father and mother,” Moses told the people, “so that you may live long and that it may go well with you in the land the Lord your God is giving you” (Deuteronomy 5:16). So, obeying your parents is the way you honor them. Now, “obey” means to “listen to, consider, or submit to.” I think the way we live that out changes as we grow, but we never outgrow the command to honor our parents. When we are children, the road to honor involves doing what we are told, and as we grow it changes more into listening, considering what our parents say, seeking their wisdom when we have choices to make. You know, it’s the old adage that most of us didn’t realize how smart our parents were until we got in our twenties, or especially when we started having kids of our own. Suddenly, our parents got real smart real quick, right? “Storge” love between children and parents involves honor—showing our parents that they have worth to us, much as Ruth did when she went with Naomi, took Naomi as her mother and showed her honor, value, worth. We “obey” when we consider, when we listen, when we value our parents.

But’s not the only side of Paul’s instruction. He goes on in verse 4: “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.” Now, again, this is addressed to fathers in Paul’s word because of the absolute control they held over the welfare and well being of their children. In today’s world, I believe Paul would address this directly to both parents, though it is still true that fathers need greater encouragement than mothers to be involved in their children’s life and to dispense kindness to their children. So what is Paul saying? He tells the Colossians almost the same thing. To them, he writes, “Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged” (Colossians 3:21). Have you known children who were discouraged, who had their spirits broken, by the treatment they received from their parents? I knew a girl who loved to smile, and when she was in the youth choir at the church she could barely sing sometimes because she was smiling so much. Now, I’d love to have a youth choir full of smiling people, but her father was from a very old school, and one day he told her, “Why do you smile so much up there? You need to stop smiling when you’re in front of the church.” And you know what? She did. And pretty soon, the joy of singing was gone from her life. It became a chore to be endured. Now, that’s pretty mild, I’ll admit. There are lot worse things that parents do to their children to break their spirits, up to and including actual abuse. Physical abuse is horrible and should never be permitted, but verbal, emotional or spiritual abuse is nearly as bad and leaves scars that run much deeper. How many broken spirits have there been because of the harsh or disapproving words of a parent? How many children have quit trying because the words and actions of their parents told them they would never be good enough? Remember a couple of weeks ago we talked about the power of the tongue—how it can tear down or build up (cf. James 3:8-10). Parents, let me challenge you: examine your words toward your children (whether they live at home or are on their own) this week. Which goal have your words accomplished? “Fathers, do not exasperate your children…children, obey your parents in the Lord…” And all of this takes place in the context of mutual submission, each of us looking out for the best for the other. When that becomes the setting for our family life, we begin to get a glimpse of true “storge” love.

But there’s one more essential piece here. Instead of “exasperating” your children, he instructs parents to “bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord” (6:4). By training, Paul means the cultivation of mind and morals—in other words, helping their minds grow and giving them a set of morals, a sense of right and wrong. And by instruction, he means setting boundaries. When he says “instruction of the Lord,” of course, he’s talking about giving them faith, passing along belief in Jesus. We live in times where it’s fashionable or politically correct to “let the child choose.” In other words, we don’t want to tell them what is right and wrong; we think they should discover it on their own without any interference on our part. And that’s become true even when it comes to faith. We don’t want to “push them away” by “forcing them to come to church,” and so we just don’t. And instead, they walk away from the faith because they’ve never been given any instruction, any training. Paul would find the mindset we have today absolutely unbelievable. He would have grown up in a home where religious instruction was assumed. Parents—mothers in the early years and fathers later on—knew they were responsible for carrying on the traditions, the faith. Certainly, there comes a time when a child chooses to follow Jesus for themselves or not, but that time is not when they are young. To not bring them up in the faith, to not surround them with instruction in the Lord is to abdicate our responsibility as parents, and I believe we will be held accountable for that one day. There is a scene in the film Courageous that speaks to this. Let’s take a listen.

VIDEO CLIP: Courageous, “Better Father”

Now, I know there are some difficult situations. For one, divorces in which one parent has faith and the other doesn’t, or where they attend different churches makes faith instruction difficult. However, I want to say to you parents that you are only responsible for what you are able to do. So be faithful in bringing your children up in the Lord as much as you can. Live your faith in front of them, lead them in faith when you can, and pray like crazy. 

And then there are situations where abuse has happened, and that’s a shadow that follows us through our adult lives. How do we honor a parent who has abused us, whatever form that abuse took? Well, that’s a whole sermon by itself, but let me just say this very briefly: you find what you can honor in them and do that. It may be no more than a thankfulness that they gave you life. Or perhaps you can find good qualities you can affirm. Perhaps, as I know of in one situation, God stepped in and drove that person to their knees; it’s not that God caused the abuse, but in the midst of it, this person found a hopeful and healing presence through faith in Jesus Christ. Abuse situations need care, and often counseling, so that we can find ways to honor our parents, so that we can, even in the midst of pain and struggle, continue to live out “storge” love. I don’t know your situation, but God does, and I believe in a God who brings good out of everything, even when we can’t see it.

Find ways to encourage, not to tear down, and to do this well, you’ll need to know each other, to be able to speak their language. My children both came from Cathy and I, and yet they are very different. To encourage Rachel in the way I might encourage Christopher won’t work. I need to know them well enough to be able to speak their language. Same with our spouses, which we’ll talk about more in a couple of weeks. But here’s the deal: in what way can you encourage your family this week? Do the dishes. Take out the trash without being asked. Do someone else’s chores this week. Leave a note on their pillow or, if they are going somewhere, in their suitcase. Send a text when it’s not expected. And come to church as a family. Talk about what you learn, how God spoke to you during the service. It doesn’t matter how young they are; I guarantee they’re listening. And over everything else, make sure your family knows you have Ruth’s kind of commitment to them: “Where you go, I will go.” No matter what else happens, we are going to be together, and in the midst of a world that says otherwise, we are going to make it. Where you go, I will go.

I want to close by sharing with you one of my very best dad moments ever. Rachel was not born yet, and Christopher was somewhere between 2 and 3. He and I were in the kitchen at our house and making something—probably brownies that he had requested—and somehow the conversation got onto what he wanted to be when he grew up. So I was listing off several things that little boys typically want to be. “Do you want to be a fireman? A policeman? A doctor?” No, no, no. Everything was no. So I played along, and I asked, “Well, then, what do you want to be?” “I want to be just like you, Dad,” Christopher said. And do you know, at that moment, he could have asked me for anything and I would have done it or bought it. Thankfully, he was only 3 and didn’t know that. But that gave me hope. The only way we really know what kind of parents we have been is when we look at our children’s lives and see the good parts of ourselves reflected in them. When we see our faith shining through them, we can can give thanks for the “storge” love that brings us through it all. Where you go, I will go. Let’s pray for our families, shall we?