Note
A Thought for Shavuot (1974)
We celebrate this holiday with heavy hearts, thinking of the anguish in the hearts of the mothers and fathers of children in Kiryat Shemona and Ma’alot, and of the parents, wives, children, brothers, and sisters of the soldiers who, since last Shavuot, have died in the Yom Kippur War. It is a sadness we share with them, one deepened by the anxieties and suffering each of us feels personally — each contributing his own inner sorrow to that of the people as a whole, as we ask ourselves how we can feel joy on this holiday. Yet this is a Yom Tov, and a delightful one. We must not give in to our weariness, whether national or personal. How can we do that? By reading Megillat Ruth with care — because, above all, it is a message of hope. Avraham Kariv notes that the book is called Ruth, but its real heroine is Naomi, who is the source of all inspiration; even Ruth’s great decisions are rooted in Naomi’s guidance. Ruth’s conversion to Judaism, notably, is not presented as a theological or metaphysical search but as enchantment with a model of Jewish conduct: Naomi. Naomi begins, as her name suggests, as a sweet and pleasant person, but tragedy strikes repeatedly — her husband dies, her sons intermarry, then they die, and she is left penniless. She believes her life is over — a woman Job. Her bitterness wells up, and when she returns to Bethlehem and the townspeople scarcely recognize her, she declares, “Call me not Naomi but Mara.” Yet after this, Naomi never speaks of herself again. The end of the Book of Ruth focuses on two intertwined stories: that of Ruth, which shapes Jewish destiny through the birth of King David, and that of Naomi, which touches not the fate of Israel as a nation but the fate of Israelites as individuals. It is the story of a personal resurrection. Naomi becomes “Naomi” once again. How does this transformation happen? Simply: Naomi finds a cause greater than herself and gives herself to it — the life, personality, and fortune of Ruth. Ruth is lucky …
