
by Marti Fischer
Ruth, and the life we’re meant to live
We talk about kindness.
We admire justice.
We believe in redemption.
But in Ruth, these aren’t ideas. They are actions. And they change everything.

by Marti Fischer
Ruth, and the life we’re meant to live
We talk about kindness.
We admire justice.
We believe in redemption.
But in Ruth, these aren’t ideas. They are actions. And they change everything.

At mealtime Boaz called to her, “Come over here, and help yourself to some food. You can dip your bread in the sour wine.” So she sat with his harvesters, and Boaz gave her some roasted grain to eat. She ate all she wanted and still had some left over. Ruth 2:14
by Marti Fischer
Boaz didn’t just feed Ruth. He crossed a line.
“Come over here. Have some bread.”
That’s not a casual invitation. That’s a disruption, because Ruth is a Moabite. Not one of them. Not from the right place. Not carrying the right background. Not someone you naturally sit next to, much less eat with.

So the two of them [Naomi and Ruth] continued on their journey. When they came to Bethlehem, the entire town was excited by their arrival. “Is it really Naomi?” the women asked.
“Don’t call me Naomi [pleasant],” she responded. “Instead, call me Mara [bitter], for the Almighty has made life very bitter for me. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me home empty. Why call me Naomi when the Lord has caused me to suffer and the Almighty has sent such tragedy upon me?” Ruth 1:19-21
by Marti Fischer
We often rush Naomi’s story.
We move quickly to the ending—the redemption, the grandson, the lineage of kings. We tie it neatly into hope and move on.
But Naomi didn’t live it that way.

A number of things have stood in the way of our Catches in the last two weeks. Health issues… computer issues… We are sorry for the inconvenience and expect to be back on track by Monday.
IN THE MEANTIME, THANK GOD FOR THIS WEEKEND!
EVERYONE HAVE A BLESSED EASTER!

Last week, we began our journey through the Book of Ruth. It starts with someone arriving in a new place, carrying loss, questions, and uncertainty. Ruth is an outsider. A foreigner. Someone who obviously doesn’t belong.

Last week, we began our journey through the Book of Ruth. It starts with someone arriving in a new place, carrying loss, questions, and uncertainty. Ruth is an outsider. A foreigner. Someone who obviously doesn’t belong.
But what she finds is something unexpected. Not just survival, but a place at the table. A place to belong. And what’s striking is how it happens.

Over the next three weeks, we are going to step into one of the most beautiful and surprising stories in Scripture: the Book of Ruth.
At first glance, Ruth is a small and quiet book. It sits between much larger and more dramatic stories in the Old Testament. There are no armies marching, no prophets confronting kings, no miracles splitting seas. Instead, the story unfolds in fields, homes, and ordinary conversations between people trying to survive loss and uncertainty. Yet within this simple story lies a deep message about belonging.

Several years ago, a young woman arrived in a small town where she knew almost no one. She had left everything behind. Her home. Her extended family. The language and culture that had shaped her life. She moved because the only person she had left in the world was an older relative who was returning to her hometown after a season of loss.

I have not seen the movie, “True Grit,” but I have read a few favorable reviews, one of which lauded the moralistic virtue that comes through the film especially embodied in the character of young Maddie. The review quoted her as saying: “My father would want me to be firm in the right, as he always was.” And then… “The Author of all things watches over me … and I have a good horse.”
Now that’s enough to sell me right there.
We are, all of us, a combination of very human, very ordinary things, yet with a spiritual component of the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. It’s this balance, this sacred right up next to secular – the holy and the common – that makes up who we are. You can’t have one without the other. Try to spiritualize everything and you lose the human element that makes life real. Try and explain everything in human terms and you miss the hand of God shaping and giving meaning to everything.
Indeed, you can’t understand Jesus without accepting the human and the divine altogether. And it’s not half and half, 50% of each. Jesus was (is) 100% God and 100% man. That’s why He can identify with us.
Yes, the Author of all things watches over me… and I’m also glad I have a good horse!

If you choose your hotels based on their workout rooms, pools, saunas, Jacuzzis, restaurants, free hot breakfasts, room service, easy parking and modern amenities, you would not like the hotel I stayed at last weekend in downtown Phoenix, Arizona. It has absolutely none of these things. But what it does have is history.