I suppose that when many of us think about “world change,” we think of top-down change. For example, a Christian entering politics, or perhaps a leading scientist or scholar coming to faith, or maybe our YouTube channel reaching millions of people. I certainly don’t mean to diminish the importance of these possibilities. On the contrary, I pray that they come true. But this morning, I’d like to remind us of another way to change the world—from the bottom up. In line with the Shavuot holiday we just celebrated (Pentecost), let us turn to the end of the Book of Ruth:

So Boaz took Ruth, and she became his wife. And he went in to her, and the Lord gave her conception, and she bore a son. Then the women said to Naomi, “Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without a redeemer, and may his name be renowned in Israel! He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age, for your daughter-in-law who loves you, who is more to you than seven sons, has given birth to him.” Then Naomi took the child and laid him on her lap and became his nurse. And the women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi.” They named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David. (Ruth 4:13-17)

From a narrative standpoint, the story could have ended with the marriage of Ruth and Boaz and the birth of their firstborn son. After all, the plot revolves around the perpetuation of the deceased’s name (Ruth 1:8–15; 4:9–10), and such an ending would have closed the story nicely. But no.

The author deliberately chooses to end the book with the words: “They named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David,” along with a genealogy that stretches beyond the time of the story—from Perez to David (Ruth 4:17–22). Why is the book concluded this way?

As Prof. Grossman insightfully noted:

Beyond the chronological leap from a newborn baby to a grandfather, this small addition propels the story into new realms: what began as a personal, private story ends—at its final chord—as a narrative with national perspective: the founding of the Davidic dynasty… The mention of David at the end gives deeper meaning to the private actions of the individuals in the story. It turns out that private actions—and especially acts of grace—can shift the entire reality and transcend their local impact. Even the kingdom of Israel began with an empathetic encounter between two individuals in a field and on a threshing floor.

Grace that changes reality

The principle we learn from the ending of Ruth remains relevant today: Grace changes reality! Not only did the acts of grace by Ruth and Boaz led to the birth of King David, but the acts of grace by Yeshua—who took on flesh and died on the cross in our place—also changed reality. Not just the personal lives of each one of us, but history itself. Our calendars are based on the birth of the Messiah for a reason.

In other words, the personal and private story of each of us matters. History is not only written from the top-down, but also from the bottom-up. Not just by leaders and kings, but by ordinary individuals who choose to show grace to those around them because of thegrace God has shown them (1 Cor. 15:10). Whether it’s grace toward our spouse, grace to our children, to our co-workers, to our fellow citizens—or even grace to our enemies who persecute us. Grace changes reality, and each of us has the opportunity to be a Ruth or a Boaz who transformed Israel from the bottom up.

(Given as a devotional to the ONE FOR ISRAEL staff team)

Photo by Omar Lopez on Unsplash