Today’s Ruth

In the book of Ruth we read an extraordinary expression of love between two women, spoken by a daughter-in-law to her mother-in-law. The text has often been read as a reflection of Judaism’s position on intermarriage because Ruth, a Moabite, becomes the great-grandmother of David, King of Israel. It is worth looking at two verses (Ruth 1:16–17): “Do not urge me to leave you, to turn back and not follow you. For wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus and more may the Lord do to me, if anything but death parts me from you.”

Ruth swears fealty to Naomi, her land, her people, and finally, to her God. The order suggests a path often followed in forsaking family, country, nation, and faith. Beginning with intimacy and commitment to an individual, the journey gradually broadens. Unlike religious conversion, there is no search for a new God.

For centuries, the Book of Ruth’s tradition of welcoming a poor outsider coexisted with rabbinic interpretations of conversion that set considerable barriers for a potential convert. Ruth’s journey represents an ethnic alternative to religious conversion: first join the people, then accept the faith. It resonates with American attitudes toward frontiers as fluid, liminal space that invites exploration, as opposed to European borders that prevent movement.

Modernity disrupted this Jewish bond linking peoplehood and faith. Zionism successfully argued that nationhood did not require religious commitment. A Sabbath-desecrating, pork-eating Jew remained part of the Jewish nation. Only adherence to false gods (be they Karl Marx or Jesus Christ) severed a Jew from his or her people. Although the Zionist distinction lacked logic, it sustained a connection between peoplehood and faith.

So where does this leave today’s Ruth? Does Judaism have room for someone who wants to follow a secular path of joining a people rather than a religious journey of adopting a new faith? Have we drawn boundaries designed to deter the intrepid adventurer who is ready to commit first to an individual Jew and then to a religious civilization?

Taking Ruth’s journey as our guide, we imagine that love would be present from the beginning. Love, and an ounce of rebellion and risk. Today’s Ruth would be willing to leave her family and homeland and set off on an uncharted journey alongside her beloved. Likely, such a bold person has already rejected aspects of her upbringing, seeking alternatives to the familiar.

If Ruth’s journey begins in love, it deepens with knowledge. To become attached to a homeland and a people requires learning their language, history, culture, and traditions. Today’s Ruth might study Hebrew and Judaism as part of her people’s heritage. She might learn how to read the news as a Jew, seeing the world afresh. She might come to appreciate the Sabbath as a day for rest, contemplation, and family. She might seek out other Jews, joining organizations that shared her beliefs and welcomed her.

Gradually, as her perceptions, experiences, language, and culture changed, she might come to wrestle with the God of Israel. Undoubtedly, those festivals that celebrate a people’s traditions, such as Hanukkah and Pesach, would appeal to her more than holidays that focus on God’s power and glory, such as Shavuot and Yom Kippur. As for critical events in the life cycle—birth, bar/bat mitzvah, and marriage—today’s Ruth would see them as part of her culture. She would want to participate fully in each.

Should Jews welcome today’s Ruth? I think they should. Barring her from religious activities in synagogues creates a hierarchy that elevates rabbinic attitudes toward boundaries over folk traditions. We need to recognize how Jews as a transnational people consistently violated borders established by gentiles. Rather than imitating gentile practices segregating Jews, we should work to reconnect peoplehood and faith.