Greetje: New page: {{info}}Blind and lame, the old man drew
The blanket close and clutched the shoe
That he held in his lap, and sat
Beside his faithful son. And at
The back the boy rode bumping ...

Greetje — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 15:20:49 GMT

New page: {{info}}Blind and lame, the old man drew The blanket close and clutched the shoe That he held in his lap, and sat Beside his faithful son. And at The back the boy rode bumping ...

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{{info}}Blind and lame, the old man drew The blanket close and clutched the shoe That he held in his lap, and sat Beside his faithful son. And at The back the boy rode bumping down The same hill from the quiet town Of Bethlehem. The wooden cart Was witness to the master art Of Obed's craft. When he was ten He built it for the poorest men And women who would glean the sheaves That every godly farmer leaves In Judah for the ones who own No land. His mother, Ruth, had shown Him how she used to gather grain, And beat it out, and what a strain It was to take the winnowed seed And walk it up the hill. "They need A cart," she said. "Don't you believe, My son, that Moses meant to weave Together with his law that we Leave something for the poor, a plea That, if we can, we help them bear It up the hill and take it where They need to go? It seems to me The holy Torah ought to be Interpreted to see as much Compassion as we can. The touch Of love from this great Book Once wakened me from death, and shook Me to the bottom of my soul. Why not make something that can roll, And let the gleaners use it when They're tired?" And so the boy, at ten, Built them a cart. He thought, "Perhaps My cart, made out of love and scraps, Will help the poor to see the hand Of God, and trust in what he's planned." 

Now sixty years have passed. Tonight The aged craftsman, drives his bright And eager grandson, and his blind And failing father down to find The place he promised David they Would go when it was dark. The gray Of twilight turned to night. The boy Could see on Boaz' face a joy That broadened to a wrinkled smile. He knew the ruts of every mile, Especially the final two Around the fields, that led down through The hollow where he used to sift The barley seed at night, and lift The spirits of his workers there. He used to sing a song, and wear The same clothes as the working men, And rake and toss his share. And when The other owners asked him why, He said, "The Torah says that I Should love my neighbor just the way I love myself. Would you not say That if you labored for a boss, It would be good to see him toss The barley every now and then? We ought to read the Torah, men, To see as much compassion as We can. Go read, and find it has More mercy than you think." But these Were not the only memories That made the old man smile tonight.

"Stop here, Obed," he said. "The light. How much is there, tonight? Is there A moon? And are there stars?" "It's fare, My father, and the moon is full." "That's good," he said, "Obed, let's pull The cart down to the cedar at The end." "Great grampa, isn't that The one where all the people go To watch the play?" He laughed. "You know About the play?" "I don't know much. They say it's all about the touch Between you and great-gramma Ruth."

"This is my favorite spot," the old Man said, "And now you shall be told About that touch, and where it led. Here, seventy short years have sped Away since that great night. Because The heat was great by day, I was Down winnowing at dark. And when The work was done, I told the men To fetch the food and wine so we Could eat and rest. I couldn't see What God was just about to do. When I was full and tired, I threw This blanket over me and lay Down underneath that tree. Today It must be twice as big. I fell Asleep and dreamed about my belle." "You mean great-gramma Ruth?" "I do. And, David, then my dream came true.

At midnight something stirred beneath My blanket at my feet. My teeth Clamped like a vice. I carefully Unsheathed my knife, and tried to see Where I could strike the beast to kill, Lest I should miss the head, and still Be bitten by some snake or worse, I knew not what. It is a curse, I thought, for dreaming of my Ruth. And as I raised the knife, the truth Rose like a hand against my wrist. I looked, and thought, ‘This moonlit twist Beneath the blanket at my feet Is not a snake. Nor will it eat My leg. This is a human form. A child, in search of being warm, Perhaps. Or worse, some woman of The street, who hopes to sell me love.' I whispered, so as not to wake The men, ‘Who are you? Do not make A sudden move, or you will die.

If you're a child and cannot buy, You shall be fed. But if a wench, You will find nothing here, nor quench Your hunger in my bed, I would Not touch a woman, be she good Or great, outside a covenant, Though there is one I truly want.' I pulled the blanket gently back And there, as still as night, the black And piercing eyes of Ruth. ‘My name Is Ruth,' she said. ‘Your servant came, Because Naomi told me I Should lie down at your feet and by This action say you are a kin To her, in hope that she may win Your willingness to raise up seed To Mahlon, if you are agreed.' ‘These are Naomi's words, I hear. I know her mind, but not, I fear, Her daughter's heart. This too I would Be pleased to learn. I hope you could, Besides this well-taught speech, reveal Your own designs, and how you feel About the prospect in her mind. Or have you no emotions unassigned?' She lay there motionless, then said, ‘My hearts desire is that you spread Your holy wing and cover me.'"

"Great-grampa Boaz, I don't see What all this means." "Well, David now You know why they do not allow The kids to come down to the play Each year." "But listen, here's the way It ends. My heart was beating in My throat, and crouching there was sin, Awaiting one misstep. I spoke The hardest words, and almost broke: ‘There is another kinsman still More close to you than I, he will Be given legal right to take You if he will. Tomorrow make Your prayer, and I will settle this With elders in the gate.' No kiss That night. But when she left, still dark, She took my hand and drew an arc, And said, ‘The God of Exodus And flood at dawn will fight for us.' That was our only touch.

And so As soon as light shown on the low Gate leading into Bethlehem I gathered elders, and to them Laid out my case, and to the head Whose right preceded mine, I said, ‘Naomi's land is yours. The claim? You marry Ruth, and keep the name Of Mahlon in your line. Declare Your will, for I am next, and swear That I will take her if you can't.' I wondered how the Lord would grant The longing of my heart and by Another providence comply With Ruth's appeal and my desire.

And then I learned. He said, ‘Acquire It for yourself. The land I would Have had, for it is very good. But Ruth? She is a Moabite, And we are Jews. It isn't right. The land is yours, and Mahlon's name For what it's worth. And Ruth. And shame.' He took his shoe and gave it to Me in the gate. I turned and threw It out to Ruth among the crowd. She caught it like a wreath and bowed. I quieted the shouts and cried, ‘What do you think of this my bride?' And she replied, ‘I think the Lord Has fought today, and with his sword Has stuck a sin up on the gate And hung on it our wedding date. As for the badge of shame, you tell: The line of Judah bears it well, And will for generations yet To come. The book of Moses set Me free. There is a mercy in The law of God beyond my skin: By faith God makes a person right, Be she a Jew or Moabite.'"

Come candle four and blaze this truth. Ignite in us the faith of Ruth.

Ruth, Part 4 - Revision history

Greetje: New page: {{info}}Blind and lame, the old man drewThe blanket close and clutched the shoeThat he held in his lap, and satBeside his faithful son. And atThe back the boy rode bumping ...

Greetje: New page: {{info}}Blind and lame, the old man drew
The blanket close and clutched the shoe
That he held in his lap, and sat
Beside his faithful son. And at
The back the boy rode bumping ...