Then Boaz said to his young man who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose young woman is this?” And the servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, “She is the young Moabite woman, who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. She said, ‘Please let me glean and gather among the sheaves after the reapers.’ So she came, and she has continued from early morning until now, except for a short rest.” (Ruth 2.5-7)

Sometimes it’s assumed that Ruth is hiring out her labor to Boaz’s crew.  But that’s not the case.  Rather, she has asked to glean, and that is something different entirely.  She’s not getting paid for this work, because she’s not performing a valued service to the owner of the field.  No, whatever she gathers, she’s allowed to take home and use for herself.  Why is Boaz so cheerful about the prospect of this newly-arrived Gentile woman making off with grain that he laboriously cultivated?  Because he respects the Law of Moses.

When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field right up to its edge, neither shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest. And you shall not strip your vineyard bare, neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard. You shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the Lord your God. (Leviticus 19.9-10)

God included several other, similar notes at various points in his Law; for example, one in Deuteronomy specifies that these privileges belong to “the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow,” a recurring theme throughout that book (24.19).  Ruth fits into each category—she is poor; she’s a Gentile just arrived from her former home in Moab; she’s bereft of her father-in-law, whose family she had joined by marriage, and to top it all off, her own husband has also died, making her a widow, too.  She and her mother-in-law Naomi have only each other; they are alone and destitute.  God’s Law allowed them to gather enough grain to feed themselves, but not enough to exploit it for profit.  God demonstrated his foresight and love through these commandments, as well as his desire to shape his people’s habits and mold their character, so that they would learn to have a generous heart like he has.  Indeed, the list of related laws In Leviticus 19, which began with the right of the poor to glean, is capped off with the oft-quoted, “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Le 19.18b).

Compare this to the modern approach—the welfare state.  It’s obvious that there are still people in need, and whether they brought their troubles on themselves or not, it’s good to make sure they aren’t simply ignored—that their suffering is alleviated and their basic needs are met.  But the similarities end there.  In the system God designed for Israel, family bore the responsibility before anyone else.  Jesus tore into the Pharisees for eroding this expectation:

“But you say, ‘If a man tells his father or his mother, “Whatever you would have gained from me is Corban”’ (that is, given to God)—then you no longer permit him to do anything for his father or mother, thus making void the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down…” (Mark 7.11-13)

In cases where there is no family member available to help, there’s no reason for the unfortunate soul to starve; he’s allowed to simply take his food from the farms that spread across the land.  The farmer is in no way required to gather grain, thresh, mill, leaven, and bake it, then deliver a quota of freshly-baked bread to the poor.  The poor  have to work for it themselves, albeit far less than the farmer himself already has.  Rather than an entitlement to food, it’s a right to gather, requiring deliberate exercise—both literally and metaphorically!

Similarly, the farmer’s responsibility is rather small—simply to allow the poor to feed themselves on the standing grain in his field.  But there’s no standard in the law for how close to the edge they’re allowed to reap, or how many grapes to leave on the vine for the poor—leaving it to each individual’s own judgment, forcing him to decide how much he will leave.  Surely many took this as an excuse to be stingy; but how many others developed an attitude more like that of Boaz? He told his employees,

“Let her glean even among the sheaves, and do not reproach her. And also pull out some from the bundles for her and leave it for her to glean, and do not rebuke her.” (Ruth 2.15b-16)

This goes above and beyond the Law, to be clear.  But it’s exactly the sort of outcome God was aiming for, in giving them such a Law, with such room for their own discretion.  It left room for Boaz to be impressed with Ruth’s work ethic.  It left room for Ruth to be incredibly grateful to the individual whose food she was being allowed to take and eat.  It left room for them to love each other, and from that love, unending blessings flowed.

In contrast, our centrally-planned, wasteful, and routinely abused system of entitlements has encouraged the poor to hate the rich, who pay the taxes that feed them, but rarely stoop to recognize their individual humanity.  It has encouraged the rich to despise the poor, who show them no gratitude and only seem to require more and more as time goes on.  It’s more complex than just that, of course, but in basic terms, while no system will be the Paradise for which we all yearn, it’s clear that no one is happy with man’s attempts to solve the problem of the poor.  But as Jesus told his disciples, “you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them” (Mk 14.7).  He still encourages us to help them.  His system is better.  It’s one that starts, not in the halls of power, but in the heart.

Jeremy Nettles

 The Lord saw it, and it displeased him
        that there was no justice.
He saw that there was no man,
        and wondered that there was no one to intercede;
then his own arm brought him salvation,
        and his righteousness upheld him.
He put on righteousness as a breastplate,
        and a helmet of salvation on his head;
he put on garments of vengeance for clothing,
        and wrapped himself in zeal as a cloak.
According to their deeds, so will he repay… (Isaiah 59.15b-18a)

The Apostle Paul took note of this passage, which describes God’s resolution to step in and execute justice against evil men.  This whole latter portion of Isaiah looks forward to the coming Messiah.  Paul applied it not only to the Son of God as he prepares for war, but to each individual Christian.

During his imprisonment in Rome, a constant presence with him was a Roman soldier tasked with guarding him (Ac 28.16).  It’s likely that the ever-present image of a man in full armor and ready for violent action suggested to Paul the following:

Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God… (Ephesians 6.14-17)

Belt of Truth

This is not the kind of belt that holds up your pants.  This is a piece of armor, complete with small disks of metal sewn into the leather and intended to deflect attacks against one of the most sensitive and vulnerable areas of the body, including numerous organs and two major arteries.  Being tied up with truth is to protect and fortify us in the same way.

Breastplate of Righteousness

The vital organs require substantial protection, too.  The body provides its own, skeletal protection of the heart and lungs, but when someone is out to kill you, something more comprehensive is required.  Righteousness—not of our own doing, but “the righteousness from God that depends on faith” (Php 3.9)—provides just such a barrier between what is vital in our souls, and the attacks from Satan and his minions.

Shoes of Readiness

One of the reasons for the Roman army’s effectiveness was its ability to travel great distances in very little time, with each soldier carrying his basic necessities with him in the field, on foot.  For this reason each soldier was equipped with a sturdy pair of hybrid sandal-boots, to protect his feet and provide the surest footing possible, both on the march and in battle.  “The gospel of peace” teaches us to go where we are needed, at a moment’s notice, whether in the physical world or its more important spiritual analog.

Shield of Faith

This is the first item on the list that is active.  The shield performs the same function as the belt and breastplate, but not only is it much more effective, it’s also movable and adaptable, a dynamic piece of the soldier’s equipment, to be used both as a powerful defense against “the flaming darts of the evil one,” and also in conjunction with the sword, as part of the offensive armament.  Our faith, likewise, must be wielded in attack or defense as the situation requires, and provides the most effective protection available to our spiritual lives.

Helmet of Salvation

To be without any piece of the assigned armor would mean the soldier is unequipped for his appointed task; but the helmet is of particular importance, because it not only helps to preserve the soldier’s life, but also his ability to interact with the world around him.  Attention is paid to the eyes and ears, and the hard shell, whose chief job is to protect the skull and brain within it, demands more skill and attention in its manufacture than any other piece of the armor.  The head is one of the most attractive targets to the enemy, and having it well protected is essential.  In the same way, if our heads are not helmeted with salvation, there’s very little reason to even bother fighting.

Sword of the Spirit

The last piece of equipment on the list is the sword.  This is not the precise, renaissance-era rapier, or the massive, slashing cavalry saber of the Napoleonic age, but a short, broad, stubby affair, sharpened on both sides but used mainly for getting in very close with the enemy and stabbing relentlessly at his least protected points.  Our spiritual combat will not resemble a civilized competition, nor is it the kind of fight where we can bludgeon from on high and then gallop away before the enemy has a chance to react.  Instead, it will require us to look evil in the eye and use the tools God has given us, including his word, to defeat and leave it dead on the field.

Why?

But why should we take up the armor at all?  Couldn’t we pay someone else to do our fighting, as the average citizen paid the taxes that covered the legions’ salary?  No.  Our fight is more important, and the enemy will not limit himself to attacking those who stand against him on the battlefield.

For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. (Ephesians 6.12-13)

Jeremy Nettles

After some days Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish, and he sent for Paul and heard him speak about faith in Christ Jesus. And as he reasoned about righteousness and self-control and the coming judgment, Felix was alarmed and said, “Go away for the present. When I get an opportunity I will summon you.” At the same time he hoped that money would be given him by Paul. So he sent for him often and conversed with him. When two years had elapsed, Felix was succeeded by Porcius Festus. And desiring to do the Jews a favor, Felix left Paul in prison. (Acts 24.4-7)

There were some surprisingly gracious accommodations provided to Paul in prison.  He was “often” afforded the opportunity to speak to the governor, and that alone seems a nice gesture, considering his circumstances.  Note also that Paul took advantage of the chance to work on Felix, telling him from the beginning “about faith in Christ Jesus,” and some of the details—“righteousness and self-control and the coming judgment.”  While Felix remained unwilling to surrender to Christ and repent of his sin, at least Paul had a project to keep him occupied during his imprisonment.  In fact, it gets better.  Felix

gave orders to the centurion that he should be kept in custody but have some liberty, and that none of his friends should be prevented from attending to his needs. (Acts 24.23)

As political imprisonment goes, this is a pretty good deal!  And yet, although tantalized and tempted with the prospect of freedom in exchange for a bribe, Paul also knew that, even if he’d been freed, a group of “more than forty” people, in league with “the chief priests and elders” at Jerusalem, had made a poorly-hidden “conspiracy” to kill Paul, going so far as to swear “neither to eat nor drink till” their evil task was done (Ac 23.12-13).  We may pause to wonder for a moment how those forty conspirators fared over the next two years while Paul was safe from them in a guarded cell at Caesarea, but the point remains, freedom was not the same as security, and Paul was stuck between remaining in prison forever despite being innocent, or else being hunted down and murdered by his own countrymen.

Paul found a way to improve on this no-win situation, telling Felix’s replacement, Festus,

“To the Jews I have done no wrong, as you yourself know very well. If then I am a wrongdoer and have committed anything for which I deserve to die, I do not seek to escape death. But if there is nothing to their charges against me, no one can give me up to them. I appeal to Caesar.” Then Festus, when he had conferred with his council, answered, “To Caesar you have appealed; to Caesar you shall go.” (Acts 25.10b-12)

After a harrowing journey to Rome involving a raging storm, lack of food, a shipwreck, and an encounter with superstitious but kind natives, Paul made it to Rome, which was where he had wanted to go in the first place, even before his fateful journey to Jerusalem (Ro 15.25-28).  What awaited him at Rome?  “Paul was allowed to stay by himself, with the soldier who guarded him” (Ac 28.16b).  Much like his stint of imprisonment at Caesarea, he was allowed some relative luxuries—this time, house arrest rather than being chained up in a cell.  Also like the previous arrangements, he was allowed to take all the visitors he could handle, and to continue preaching the gospel.  Even the period of his imprisonment was the same:

He lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him, proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance. (Acts 28.30-31)

Yet, for all the surprising good points, he was still, for these four years, a prisoner.  He’d spent ten years or so occupied with traveling all over the northeast quadrant of the Mediterranean, establishing too many churches to name, and returning to each either in body or spirit through various letters, which, in turn, have taught Christ to millions all over the world for two thousand years since.  He went from that work, to suddenly being confined in a cell, and later a house that probably wasn’t much bigger—for which privilege he had to pay out of his own pocket.  What miserable circumstances!

Paul wrote Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon during this imprisonment, and we might have expected him to display a woe-is-me attitude about his suffering.  But no.  He makes only a handful of references to his imprisonment, mostly highlighting good points and opportunities!  Here he was, suffering for his faith, yet he genuinely rejoiced in his trials.  This is certainly a good example for us to follow, as Paul himself points out (Php 3.17).  But how did he do it? How did Paul maintain a positive attitude in the midst of persecution?  How did he remain at peace?  As he begins to wrap up his letter to the church at Philippi, he tells us exactly how he did it, and how we can face our troubles with the same calm and assurance:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4.4-9)

Jeremy Nettles

For what does the Scripture say? “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness.” Now to the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due. And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness… (Romans 4.3-5)

With these words, Paul begins his discussion of justification by faith, centered around Abraham.  Since he’s writing to a church dealing with friction between Jewish and Gentile members, he’s been focused since chapter 2 of this letter on lumping these two groups together—in guilt, as well as in salvation.  Accordingly, he points out that Abraham was labelled righteous in Genesis 17.5, on account of his belief—and it wasn’t until verse 10 that God instructed him to be circumcised.  He obeyed the command “that very day, as God had said to him” (v23), but nevertheless, even if we disregard the 24 years that Abraham had been following God’s instructions, going where he was told, and demonstrating trust in God, the text of Genesis 17 tells us Abraham was righteous in God’s eyes “before he was circumcised” (Ro 4.10).  The point Paul is really driving here is that righteousness—also called justification throughout this section of the book—was not, even from the beginning, the exclusive domain of the Jews.  It was easy for God’s chosen people to think there was no way for a gentile to attain salvation from sin and enter a covenant with God without converting to Judaism, because they knew the Law and the Prophets, and in them God said that the Gentiles were unclean; but there was a mechanism available for even the heathen to become clean and thus enabled to enter God’s Presence, entailing adherence to the Law of Moses, including circumcision.  However, God had already shown that an individual Gentile could, in fact, enter into a covenant relationship with him and be counted righteous, because Abraham was just such an individual, before God gave him circumcision, the first hallmark of Judaism.

The purpose was to make him the father of all who believe without being circumcised, so that righteousness would be counted to them as well, and to make him the father of the circumcised who are not merely circumcised but who also walk in the footsteps of the faith that our father Abraham had before he was circumcised. (Romans 4.11b-12)

Today, most of this is completely ignored in the typical discussion about justification by faith.  Perhaps this is simply because the proportion of practicing Jews who also profess Christ is now vanishingly small, and so we face different struggles today; but there also appears to be a shakier motive, tied up in the refusal to obey certain of God’s commands.  Inasmuch as circumcision is a relatively simple, outward act that carries with it an enormous weight of spiritual  symbolism, it’s easy to put baptism in its place and say that the two are equivalent in being unnecessary.  But if that’s the case, why didn’t Paul mention that anywhere in all of his writings, and why did he uphold baptism at every turn?  It requires us to deliberately ignore an enormous amount of what Paul (to say nothing of the other apostles and Jesus himself) said, and focus instead on a carefully selected few portions of Galatians, Romans and Ephesians, to build the case that baptism is unnecessary.

Even without that comparison, we may wonder: if Abraham was counted righteous, on the basis of his faith, before he was circumcised, then what was the point in telling him to be circumcised at all?

First of all, God can do what he wants, and doesn’t owe us an explanation.  This is an adequate answer to most of our questions; but in this case we can find a more satisfying reason.  Paul calls Abraham’s circumcision “a seal of the righteousness that he had by faith while he was still uncircumcised” (Ro 4.11a).  God himself told Abraham, “it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and you” (Ge 17.11).  Why did God choose circumcision, instead of perhaps a funny hat?  We can only speculate, but removing a sensitive and precious piece, however minor, of one’s own body, and undergoing the substantial pain and bloody mess involved in the procedure, gave a stark demonstration of what God expected the Israelites to do, spiritually, out of devotion to him.  We don’t have the requirement of fleshly circumcision, but God does command the removal and casting away of intimate, integral aspects of ourselves that God has deemed unfit for his Presence.  It will be just as painful, just as messy, and just as permanent.  In fact, Paul points out that circumcision was a shadow of this Christian covenant:

In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead. And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. (Colossians 2.11-14)

Just as circumcision never made anyone righteous, neither does baptism today.  At the same time, refusing circumcision made God’s chosen people unrighteous, and so it is with baptism today.  Circumcision carried a deep symbolism, reminding the Jews of pain and blood; baptism reminds us of death and burial.  The key difference is that the Law of Moses built up a record of sins; but in Christ, they are nailed to the cross and forgiven.

Jeremy Nettles

In the traditions and histories, James is considered to have been the driving force in the church at Jerusalem for the first couple decades, before he was martyred sometime in the 60s.  That’s an overstatement, but his opinion certainly carried a lot of weight.  For example let’s look at Acts 15, where the disagreement about which rules Jesus wants imposed on Gentile converts has escalated to a confrontation at Jerusalem between Paul and Barnabas on one side, and the legalist Jewish Christians on the other.  This group has the majority, and holds that Gentiles essentially must convert to Judaism first, in order to reap any benefit from Christ, saying, “Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses, you cannot be saved” (Ac 15.1).  Paul and Barnabas know better.

So does Peter, although he didn’t always find it easy to stand up for this principle.  During an extended visit to Antioch, he chickened out of maintaining his fellowship with Gentile Christians when “certain men came from James” (Ga 2.12).  Knowing their opinion and not wanting a fracas, “he drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party.”  But that was then, and this is now.  Peter does stand up and, far from pinning salvation to circumcision in accordance with the Law of Moses, he reminds his Jewish brothers, “we believe that we will be saved though the grace of the Lord Jesus, just as they will” (Ac 15.11).  This point was rather important, but easy to forget for these Jews, who knew nothing for 1400 years other than an entirely works-based righteousness that had always failed to produce the kind of people God wanted.  Finally James—the author of that extremely practical book on how to live as Christians—weighs in:

“my judgment is that we should not trouble those of the Gentiles who turn to God, but should write to them to abstain from the things polluted by idols and from sexual immorality, and from what has been strangled, and from blood.” (Acts 15.19-20)

So weighty is his opinion that the rest of the apostles and elders agree to do exactly that.  Notably, in the letter, they write

“we have heard that some persons have gone out from us and troubled you with words, unsettling your minds although we gave them no instructions…” (Acts 15.24)

Some of these legalistic, Law-of-Moses-loving Jewish Christians had been going around to predominately Gentile churches and telling them they needed to be circumcised and keep the Law of Moses in order to be saved.  No doubt, among them were the “certain men” who “came from James” in that earlier incident to which Paul referred in Galatians.  They got along great with James, who stressed the importance of doing, not just hearing or saying (Ja 1.22-25, 2.14-26).  But even though they were labeled his followers, he hadn’t actually sent them to do this!  He knew better, and spoke up on behalf of Paul and Barnabas when it counted, helping to sway the church toward the truth and away from the lie his own friends were promoting.

Over the centuries, Catholicism came closer and closer to mirroring the failed standard of righteousness under the Law of Moses, as if  salvation were a prize to be purchased through the sacraments of the church, and maintained by keeping in balance one’s sins and good works, including penance.  Then came Martin Luther, relentlessly harping on Paul’s writings about salvation by faith in Christ.  He so hated the book of James that he suggested it was inauthentic, not even written by a Christian, let alone inspired by God.  He, and many others as time went on, swung the pendulum from the nonsense of one extreme—salvation earned by works—to the nonsense of the other extreme—salvation completely independent of what we choose to do.  In reality, the truth is in the middle, as James himself says: “faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead” (Ja 2.17).  Is this different from what Paul says?  No, not really. 

“For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love.  You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?”  (Galatians 5.6-7)

James is emphasizing good works to people who need to be reminded those are not optional.  Paul is emphasizing faith to those who need to be reminded, you can’t earn your salvation.  But James doesn’t say faith is unnecessary; he upholds its importance.  And Paul doesn’t say works are unnecessary, he says that our faith must be working through love, and that we must obey the truth.  They agree completely—they’re just focusing on what different audiences need to hear most. 

The Catholic establishment for centuries ignored much of Paul’s writings at their peril.  Many in the Protestant world have for centuries ignored James at their peril.  But Paul and James never wanted to split the church between them.  Paul calls James an apostle (not one of the twelve Apostles, but nevertheless performing a similar function) in Galatians 1.19, and calls him one of the “pillars” of the church in Jerusalem in the next chapter (2.9).  And when, many years later, Paul was in some trouble with the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem again, James took the lead in trying to bail him out (Ac 21.17-26).  Many people have tried awfully hard to make these two into enemies, but it’s just not true!  They have slightly different functions, as the right hand has a slightly different function from the left hand—but they’re part of the same body, obeying the same head, and working for the same goals.  Instead of ignoring one or the other based on our own preferences, we must follow the teaching of both, because it really comes from the head, who is Christ.

Jeremy Nettles