Female Scripture Biography, Volume I

by F. A. Cox

Alas! what a land of mourning is this! what heart-rending separations are we called to experience on earth; and what an hour of parting from the tenderest of connexions will soon arrive, when, death interposing his authority to break the ties of nature and of friendship, we must bid adieu to those who would indeed gladly accompany us, but must survive to walk alone in the wilderness.

We are, however, attributing too much to this formidable power. He may break the ties of nature--but he cannot dissolve the union of Christian friendship. The pious shall meet again in a region uninfested by malignity, and where the long annals of everlasting ages shall record no day of separation, and no instance of death.

It was kind, it was disinterested, it was maternal, in Naomi to propose this parting; but they were not to be persuaded. As soon as tears permitted utterance, they exclaimed, "Surely we will return with thee unto thy people."--"We have taken our resolution, and cannot depart from it. To go with thee is indeed a trial--but to go from thee is incalculably worse. Thou shall not be forsaken. We will be inseparable." Naomi remonstrated, and kindly repeated her commands. She called them daughters, an appellation they had well merited by their ardent and unabated attachment, earnestly entreating them to "turn again; and" intimating that they could not reasonably entertain a hope of her having sons whom they might marry, and therefore they could not accompany her without detriment to themselves. She was afflicted at the idea of their being widows in the days of their youth; and especially that, for her sake, they should continue in so solitary a condition, voluntarily resigning to her comfort the joys of connubial love.

Again they wept--but from this moment, Orpah and Ruth take a different course. The former fails in her resolution, embraces her mother-in-law, and returns; the latter "cleaves to her," and remains the solitary example of unconquerable affection, the heroine of the future narrative.

In the character of Orpah, we perceive an exemplification of that imperfect obedience which characterizes those who have been induced to pay some degree of attention to the gospel of Christ, but who have been influenced by certain subordinate motives to retrace their steps. She contemplated future poverty with alarm, and cannot be exculpated from a charge of secretly preferring the service of Chemosh, the Moabitish god, to the service of Jehovah. Her affection for Naomi had, perhaps, induced her hitherto to dissemble; and though she persevered to a considerable extent, when the final resolution was to be taken, she paused--hesitated --trembled--and drew back. She could not part with all for this service. In the days of Christ, many treated him with respect, listened to his words, admired, and like the young ruler, even wished to become his follower, but excited the best hopes only to disappoint them. Happy, thrice happy, they who take up the cross, and follow him through much tribulation; nobly resisting the allurements of the world, the demands of earthly friendship, and even the interdictions of human authority, for the sake of Christ and his gospel! The martyr's crown awaits them, for they display the martyr's spirit.

At a superficial glance, the address of Naomi to Ruth, upon this occasion, seems altogether extraordinary; "Behold, thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her people, and unto her gods; return thou after thy sister-in-law." Did she then really wish to urge this young widow to imitate the conduct of her sister, not only in returning to her relations, but to the service of the gods of Moab? Whatever opinion she entertained of her daughter-in-law's piety, could she really be desirous of placing her in circumstances of such temptation and danger? This supposition would be at least uncharitable, and contradicts probability. It was rather a trial of her sincerity in religion, and an evidence of her determination to use no compulsory measures, not even maternal influence, to coerce her conscience. Her language was, besides, premonitory and warning, similar to the permission given to Balaam, who though apparently admonished to go and curse Israel, was really interdicted.

Ruth received the appeal in a manner worthy of her character, and the most satisfactory to Naomi. "Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me and more also, if aught but death part thee and me." If the pious origin of this attachment were not sufficiently apparent, we should be tempted to call it romantic; but founded as it was in religion, we must contemplate it as a rare specimen of a perfection in friendship, scarcely ever attained in the cold and chilling atmosphere of this world. Nothing could have so ripened and matured it, but the beamings of heavenly love, which rendered even an unfriendly soil productive of so choice a fruit.

Notwithstanding the indigent circumstances of Naomi, her daughter-in-law persisted in accompanying her, and thus voluntarily chose affliction with the people of God in preference to hereditary affluence and distinction. With deliberate resolution, and persevering consistency, she adhered to her purpose, calculating upon all the inconveniences that might result, but not fearing them. She turned her back upon the glory of the world, neither dreading its frowns nor soliciting its patronage. She knew that she could live happily without human applause, but not without divine approbation. Her early prejudices were subdued by principle, and she felt no hesitation in discarding the gods of Moab to procure the love of the God of Israel. In fact she did choose the path of true honour and renown. The servant of God is the greatest character in the universe, and will eventually be exalted to a situation which will fully and for ever disclose the perfect nothingness of terrestrial glory, and the shadowy nature of all that mortals have been deluded to imagine substantial.

This part of the history may serve to suggest the beneficial inquiry, whether we habitually cherish an equal zeal for our religion, with that which this young Moabitess manifested? It would be easy to descant upon the superiority of our advantages, and to urge our increased responsibility; but do we equal her in the firmness of our faith, and the steadfastness of our profession? It may not be a question, whether we are likely to be called to similar or equal trials; but the most important consideration is, whether through the grace of God we stand prepared for whatever trials await us in the path of duty; and whether, with fewer difficulties and greater advantages, we at least display an equal decision of character? We have Sabbaths--do we keep them? We have Bibles--do we read them? We have religious and social opportunities--do we improve them? We have pious friends--do we, like Ruth, cleave to them? Do we come out from the world, and are we separate, saying to the church of Christ, and adhering to our purpose, "We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you?" Association is a test of character. The companion exhibits the man.

Candour and sincerity may be recommended from this example, as the best policy. We should not be ashamed of our religion: an open avowal, like that of Ruth, which prevented any farther importunity to return to the idolatries of Moab, is calculated to prevent a thousand perplexities into which the wavering, the timid, and the dissembling, inevitably fall. Persons of this description fail in every respect. They dissatisfy both parties, sacrifice their own peace of mind, and incur all the pains, without securing any of the pleasures of genuine piety. Hesitating between a sense of duty and an inclination to sin, trembling amidst conflicting attractions and opposing interests, they never attain to dignity of character or repose of spirit. They lie at the mercy of every foe, of every passion, of every change. Without the pilotage of principle, they know not what course to take, and are every moment in danger of a fatal wreck. "He that wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed! ... A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways."