Rabotai (gentlemen), we started Megillat Rut (the Book of Ruth) last week. We’ll continue with perek bet (chapter). We’ll read it once with Rashi to get the story, and then go back and see the Malbim and other mefarshim (commentaries).
Let’s remember where we left off in this great story. Naomi is bereft of her husband, Elimelech. Rut (Ruth) is bereft of her husband, Machlon (Mahlon), and they’re both bereft of their money. They come back from Sedei Moav (fields of Moab) to Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel). The people can’t believe it: “Hazot Naomi?” The pasuk (verse) tells us that they came back during the harvest, at the time of the barley harvest.
So you have two widows, destitute, and now we’ll see exactly how they fared. The greatness of our story is that it is against all odds. Nobody would put money on anything significant coming out of this. Naomi had already had a life, but Rut, for sure not. She’s a convertis, so she’s coming in with another strike against her: a convertis from Moav (Moab), which, as we’ll see, was very controversial. Anyway, let’s see how hashgachah (Divine Providence), notwithstanding their situation, makes sure that if a person is destined for something, it doesn’t matter what their status is; it will come to them.
The Navi begins: “Ule’Naomi moda le’ishah.” Moda, Rashi says, means karov (relative). Naomi is related to a man. “Ben achiv shel Elimelech hayah.” The man she’s related to is actually her nephew. How is he her nephew? Elimelech’s brother’s son. Rashi says: “Ben achiv shel Elimelech hayah.” Our Rabbis said, “Elimelech ve-Salmon avi Boaz (Boaz).” So there was Elimelech, one brother; Salmon, another brother; and Peloni Almoni, whom we’ll learn about, Mr. Anonymous, another brother; and Naomi’s father. Naomi actually married her uncle. Naomi’s father and Elimelech were brothers.
“Kulam benei Nachshon ben Aminadav (Nahshon son of Amminadab) hayu.” Wow. They were the children of Nachshon ben Aminadav, the famous Nachshon ben Aminadav, the one who jumped into Yam Suf (the Sea of Reeds). These are the children of Nachshon. “Ve-lo ho’il lahem zechut avotam.” With all that, they didn’t have the credit of zechut avot when they left Eretz Yisrael. Look what happened to them: even though they came from Nachshon ben Aminadav, it didn’t help them. They abandoned the people when they left, and they were still struck.
So again: “Ule’Naomi moda le’ishah.” Let’s see: “Ish gibor chayil (strong), mimmishpachat Elimelech, u-shemo Boaz.” The man she’s related to is gibor chayil, from Elimelech’s family, and his name is Boaz. That’s a nice introduction: “u-shemo Boaz.”
“Va-tomer Rut HaMoaviyah el Naomi: ‘Elchah na hasadeh.’” Rashi says, “Le-echad mi-sedot anshei ha’ir”: “I’ll go to one of the fields of the people of the city.” “Ve-alaktah bashibolim,” and I’ll collect the stalks. Someone asked whether they should talk about Boaz’s gibor chayil. Good point. We’re obviously not talking about physical strength. Some say chayil means wealth, and some say “gibor chayil” is based on “Eizehu gibor hakovesh et yitzro (Who is mighty? One who conquers his inclination).” As we’ll see later, you’ll see his gevurah (strength): he waited to go with Rut until he had solved it halachically.
She says, “Let me go to one of the fields, achar asher emtza chen be’einav”—to a field where I’ll find favor in someone’s eyes. Rashi says, “Asher emtza chen be’einav shelo yig’ar bi”: I’ll go to somebody’s field where I find favor in his eyes, someone who won’t chastise me and will accept me. “Ve’elkat-ah vashibolim acharei asher emtza chen be’einav”—after whom? Someone who finds favor in me. “Va-tomer lah: ‘Lechi viti.’”
Here you see Divine Providence. She doesn’t know Boaz; she doesn’t know anything. She only knows that there’s a law of leket (gleanings), shikchah (forgotten sheaves), and pe’ah (corner of the field). She’ll find a field that she thinks will be favorable to her, and she’ll collect. It’s amazing: Rut is a tzedeket (righteous woman). She comes from Eglon Melech Moav (Eglon, king of Moab); she’s a princess. Now she’s willing to help her mother-in-law, an act of chasidut, by going to collect the gleanings that fell on the ground. This is from riches to rags. She knew the halachah (Jewish law). She knew leket.
“Vatelech vatavo vatelaket.” Not a lot of verbs there: vatelech, she went; vatavo, she came; vatelaket, she gathered. In the field, after the reapers—the ones who cut the field.
Someone asked, “Bimchilah harav. Machul. She got married outside Eretz Yisrael. How did she know she was going to find favor in Boaz’s field?” No, she didn’t know she was going to Boaz. She wasn’t going to Boaz; she was going to a field. Exactly. Providence was going to put her there. That’s the whole story: Providence was going to put her in Boaz’s field. That’s a one-in-a-million chance. By the way, I love that you asked that. That’s why we’re learning it: to get the pshat (plain meaning). Most people forget what the story is.
“Vayiker mikreha (Her chance occurrence happened).” Mikreh is the happening; it means the happening that’s from God. “Chelkat hasadeh leVoaz.” Bingo! She got to Boaz’s field, which was from Elimelech’s family.
Rashi comes along and says about “Vatelech vatavo vatelaket,” “Matzinu baMidrash.” The Midrash says, “Ad lo azalat atat”—before she left, she arrived. The verse makes it sound as though she got there quickly: “Vatelech vatavo,” and afterward, “Vatelaket.” But the Midrash explains: “Ela shehaytah mesamenet haderachim kodem shenichnesah lasadeh, vehalchah uva’ah vechazrah kedei la’asot simanim tziyurim baderachim shelo tit’eh basadot veteda lashuv.” She was marking the roads before she entered the field. She went back and forth to make signs on the roads so she wouldn’t get lost in the fields and would know how to return. She’s new to the area and doesn’t know where she’s going. She made simanim (signs) for herself on the road and then went back to make sure she knew how to get home. So the pasuk says, “Vatelech vatavo vatelaket”: she went back and forth to make signs, and then she gathered. It also shows how foreign she was; she didn’t even know where she was going.
Beit Lechem (Bethlehem), that day: “Vehinei Voaz ba miBeit Lechem.” Boaz came from Beit Lechem and saw the workers cutting for him. He said, “Hashem imachem (May Hashem be with you).” They answered, “Yevarechecha Hashem (May Hashem bless you).” We learned in Gemara that this was the old custom, how they used to greet one another.
“Vayomer Boaz lena’aro hanitzav al hakotzrim: ‘Lemi hana’arah hazot?’” Boaz asks his lad, who is in charge of the reapers, “Who is the girl?” Strange question. Boaz is a tzaddik. He’s married and has children, and all of a sudden curiosity hits him. Rashi immediately asks, “Vechi darko shel Boaz lish’ol benashim?” Is it Boaz’s way to ask about women? “Ela divrei tzeni’ut vechochmah ra’ah bah.” He saw modesty and wisdom in her. He didn’t see Rut’s physical beauty; he saw that she was different in her behavior, in the way she was collecting.
“Shtei shibolim leket, shalosh einah leket (Two stalks are gleanings; three are not).” First, she knew the halachah. She was medayeket (careful). The other aniyim (the poor) might take what they wanted, and the men wouldn’t yell at them; they’d let the poor take two at a time. She knew what to do.
Number two: “V’haitah melaketet omdot me’omed v’shochvot miyoshav kedei shelo tishcheh.” She collected standing stalks while standing, and stalks lying down while sitting, so she wouldn’t bend. If she had to take ones on the ground, she sat; if they were standing, she stood upright, because a woman leaning over is not tzni’ah (modest). He saw that her tzni’ut (modesty) caught his attention. Normally what catches a man’s attention is pritzut (immodesty). What caught Boaz’s attention was tzni’ut. That’s the difference between Boaz and a regular guy: he was attracted to her tzni’ut. Most people aren’t attracted to tzni’ut. Boaz was exactly the opposite.
The Siftei Zekenim (Siftei Zekenim) has an understanding here. He quotes the Maharsha: “Mah chochmah ra’ah bah?” It isn’t wisdom that she took two and didn’t take three; that’s the law. If you’re poor, that’s the handbook they give you before you go into the field: this is what you take, and this is what you don’t take. The Siftei Zekenim asks: if the other poor people were honest, why call it wisdom? We had explained it by saying they were ganavim and she was honest, but if you assume that everybody was honest, why call it wisdom? The Gemara’s language is “vechochmah ra’ah bah.” It isn’t wisdom, he says; it’s honesty. So why call it wisdom?
He explains that Rut was a giyoret (female convert), an aniyah (poor person), and an almanah (widow). That’s a hat trick—a trifecta. She had all three disadvantages. The passage says she alone was fitting to take three stalks, and not someone else. She deliberately didn’t take three so that she could collect the two with the other poor people. If she took the three at that moment, she would lose the time when the other poor people were collecting the two. Since the other poor people wouldn’t take the three, she could take them later. So she had chochmah: she didn’t take from the bundles of three; she took the bundles of two with everyone else. That’s the wisdom—assuming she was allowed to take the three. It’s a machloket (dispute) in Gemara whether you can take three. The other poor people were collecting the twos. If she collected the threes, she’d lose out on the twos. So she collected the twos with the others, and afterward could take what remained.
Apparently, she was fitting to take three because she had three reasons: she was a giyoret, an almanah, and an aniyah. That’s an amazing shitah (approach). I don’t know whose shitah it is, but the Siftei Zekenim says she alone was fitting to take three, and no one else. So she was smart. She knew she was worse off than everybody. If she took the three, she’d lose the twos. She could take the three later because nobody was worse off than she was, so she went back for the three and got them. That’s chochmah. Rashi’s language is, “Chachmah ra’atah, shtei shibolim leket, shalosh einah leket.” The interpretation is that, at that time, she chose the two. The Siftei Zekenim’s shitah is that the more disadvantages you have, the more you can get.
“Vaya’an hana’ar hanitzav al hakotzrim vayomar: ‘Na’arah Mo’aviyah hi.’” When they cut, sometimes two or three stalks are left in the field uncut. They don’t do that on purpose; sometimes, when they grab from the fields, something stays behind.
“Na’arah Mo’aviyah hi,” the young man says. They had already vetted her. I don’t know how they knew who she was, but they knew her: “Hashavah im Na’omi.” She came back with Naomi from Moav. Rashi says the accent is above the shin, so the word is read “hashavah,” because it’s in the past tense. We wondered who had died. They died in Moav. Someone asked whether they’d been at a funeral last week; they were burying people at the border. Apparently, they recognized her. The man knew immediately who she was: Rut, the Moaviyah, who came back with Naomi. They knew everything. They had their Twitter, like we do when someone walks in and we don’t know them.
“Vatomar: ‘Alaketah na ve’asafti va’omarim acharei hakotzrim, vatavo vata’amod me’az haboker ve’ad atah; zeh shivtah habayit me’at.’” She said she’d collect the bundles after the reapers. She’d been there from the morning until then. What does “zeh shivtah habayit me’at” mean? Rashi explains “Alaketah na” as collecting the stalks, the leket, and “Ve’asafti va’omarim” as the obligation of forgotten bundles. “Zeh shivtah habayit me’at” means she spent only a little time at home today. She wasn’t inside or in the shade; she was outside in the sun collecting all day.
“Vayomer Bo’az el Rut: ‘Halo sham’at biti, al telchi lilkot bisdeh acher.’” I’m telling you now: don’t go to collect in another field. “Vegam lo ta’avori mizeh”—don’t leave here. “Vechoh tidbakin im na’arotai”—stay close to my girls. He gives her several instructions. We’ll see how the Malbim highlights each one.
“Eina’yich basadeh asher yiktzorun”: keep your eyes on the fields they’re cutting. Apparently Boaz had many fields, so follow where the cutters are. “Vehalacht achareihen,” follow them. “Halo tziviti et hane’arim levilti nog’ech”: I told the young men not to touch you. Maybe there are unscrupulous people in the fields, so don’t worry; you have protection.
“Vetzamit, vehalacht el hakelim veshatit me’asher yish’avun hane’arim.” If you get thirsty, drink where the workers drink. She got a VIP pass. Normally the poor people can’t drink from the workers’ water; they have to get their own. So he’s giving her free water. Rashi says, “Ve’im titzme’i lishtot al tikalmi milelechet velishtot mikeli hamayim.” Don’t be embarrassed to drink from the water vessels. He had already told them to look out for a girl like this and that it was all right for her to take water.
“Vatipol al paneha vatishtachu artzah.” She was amazed—literally, floored. “Vatomer elav: ‘Madua matzati chen be’einecha lehakireni, ve’anochi nochriyah?’” Why are you being so nice to me? I’m a stranger.
“Vaya’an Bo’az vayomer lah: ‘Huged hugad li kol asher asit et chamotech.’” I heard what you did for your mother-in-law. The news of chesed (kindness) traveled. “Acharei mot ishech, vata’azvi avich ve’imech ve’eretz moladtech, vatelechi el am asher lo yadat temol shilshom.” You left your father and mother and your birthplace, and went to a nation you didn’t know. He heard everything. Then he blesses her: “Yeshalem Hashem pa’olech, u-tehi maskurtech shelemah, im Hashem Elohei Yisrael asher bat lachasot tachat knafav.” He understood that she had converted and come to shelter under His wings.
“Vatomer: ‘Emtza chen be’einecha adoni, ki nichamtani, vechi dibarta al lev shifchatecha, ve’anochi lo eheyeh ke’achat shifchotecha.’” Rashi understands her to mean: “I’m not even worthy to be one of your maidservants.” Rut was humble. She says she isn’t worthy of being one of his maidservants, despite all the honor he is giving her.
“Vayomer lah Bo’az le’et ha’ochel: ‘Goshi halom.’” Goshi halom means come close, over here—or now. He tells her, “Ve’achalt min halechem,” eat from the bread, “ve-tavalt pitech bachometz,” dip your bread in vinegar. They didn’t have garlic mayonnaise then. Somebody mentioned chimichurri; that’s beautiful, you learned it today.
“Vateshev mitzad hakotzrim.” She sat by the reapers. “Vayitzbot lah kali”—he gave her parched grain. “Vatochal vatissba vatotar.” She ate, was satisfied, and had some left over. Rashi says, “Mikan shehachometz yafeh lasharav”: from here we learn vinegar is good for the heat. That’s why she dipped her bread in vinegar; it’s good for the body in the heat.
“Vayitzbot lah kali, veyoshet lah, ve’en lo dimyon bamikra.” We’ve never seen the word “vayitzbot” in Tanach (Hebrew Bible), Rashi says, but we saw it in the Mishnah in Chagigah (Chagigah). “Bet hatzevita” is like a handle on a keli (vessel), where you hold it. “Vatekom lelaket”: she got up to collect. She had a VIP lunch.
“Vayitzav Bo’az et ne’arav lemor.” This was last week’s class, if you remember: “Gam bein ha’omarim telaket velo tachlimuha.” Don’t collect everything; leave her something there on purpose. “Vegam shol tasholu lah min hatzvatim.” Rashi says, “Shacho’ach tishkachu”—forget on purpose. Normally shikchah happens unintentionally. “Asu atzmechem ke’ilu atem shochechim (Make yourselves as if you are forgetting).” Now he’s telling them, “Forget on purpose, so she’ll think you forgot and take it, but really you didn’t forget.” And leave the small bundles there. “Va’azavtem, veliktah velo tig’aru bah.” Leave them; let her take them, and don’t yell at her. Be generous, look the other way. “Vatelaket basadeh ad ha’erev.” She worked until nightfall.
“Vatachbot et asher liketah.” She beat out what she had gathered, removing the chaff, which isn’t edible. “Vayehi ke’eifah se’orim.” That’s a lot: an eifah of barley. To give it some perspective, there’s the measure called askelav gudu. “Askelav” is the sequence of measures: alef is eifah, samech is se’ah, kuf is kav, lamed is log, and bet is beitzah. “Gudu” is gimel, vav, dalet, vav. To know how many eggs are in an eifah, calculate 3 times 6, which is 18; 18 times 4 is 72; 72 times 6 is 432. There are 432 eggs in an eifah. The mitzvah (commandment) of challah is one tenth of an eifah, so it’s 43.2, which is the gematriya of challah. The manna was an asirit ha’eifah. That’s 43.2 eggs. A slice of pizza is two eggs; matzah is keveitzah. Forty-three eggs is about twenty slices. Who can eat twenty slices? This was an entire eifah of barley, ten times that. She came home with a windfall. She’s poor, and he gave her an eifah. Boaz picked up the bill.
“Vatisa, vatavo ha’ir.” She carried it to the city. Her mother-in-law saw what she had collected, and she brought out and gave her what she had left over from being satisfied. She brought home a doggie bag from lunch too. Look how righteous she was: she had deliberately left some to give to Naomi.
“Vatomer lah chamotah: ‘Eifoh likat’t hayom? Ve’anah asit?’” Where did you go today? Who did you work for? “Yehi makirech baruch (May your benefactor be blessed).” “Vataged lechamotah et asher asta imo.” She tells her mother-in-law whom she helped. Someone asked, “You knew that wasn’t normal for a poor person.” That’s right: she came home with lunch. Who gives lunch to a poor person?
The Gemara learns from “Et asher asta imo” that the poor person does more for the rich person than the rich person does for the poor person. What did he give me? A little something; he didn’t feel it. But by taking it, I gave him Olam Haba (the World to Come). I gave him something in return. So the Gemara says, “Et asher asta imo”: I did more for him than he did for me.
“Vatomer: ‘Shem ha’ish asher asiti imo hayom Bo’az.’” When Naomi hears it was Boaz, she says, “Yehi makirech baruch.” Rashi explains: the owner of the field who showed you favor by letting you collect in his field should be blessed. “Vatomer Naomi lechalah: ‘Baruch hu laHashem, asher lo azav chasdo et hachayim ve’et hametim.’” He does not stop his chesed for the living or the dead. He takes care of the living, and, as we’ll see, Naomi seems to have a prophecy that he’ll take care of the dead too. Machlon died, and there’s a field and yibum (levirate marriage) involved. Since Boaz is a ba’al chesed, he takes care of the living and the dead.
“Vatomer lah Naomi: ‘Karov lanu ha’ish, migo’aleinu hu.’” Now she reveals that the man Rut met is Naomi’s nephew and Ruth’s cousin, one of their redeemers. We’ll see what a redeemer is: he’ll help them settle the estate through yibum.
“Vatomer Rut haMo’aviyah: ‘Gam ki amar elai, im hane’arim asher li tidbakin, ad asher yechalu et kol hakatzir asher li.’” She tells Naomi more: Boaz told her to stay with his workers until his harvest was over. Actually, he said to stay with the young women; Rut says “ne’arim.” I don’t know why it says that. “Vatomer Naomi el Rut kalatah: ‘Tov biti ki tetz’i im na’arotav, velo yifge’u vach besadeh acher.’” Naomi says, “Good, my daughter. Go with his young women; don’t let them see you in another field.” Rut stayed with Boaz’s young women to collect until the wheat harvest was over, and then returned to her mother-in-law. She didn’t stay there for the whole harvest; she went home from time to time.
That’s the basic story. Now we get to the Malbim and the depth of what happened. You have the skeleton; now you’ll hear the chiddushim (novel interpretations).
“Ule-Naomi moda le’ishah.” The Malbim says that, even though Naomi was poor, it would have been better for her if she had asked for bread and support from Boaz, because he was rich. The normal story would have been that Naomi knew Boaz was her nephew, so she could knock on his door and say, “Listen, do me a favor. We need a loan, a bridge loan, something.” He would help her immediately. She could have asked for something.
Instead, she chose the harder option of having Rut bring home food from the leket that the Torah gave to the poor. It was as though she was earning her living from God’s gift during a time of poverty, rather than asking for kindness from relatives who had known her in her prosperous days. She was embarrassed because the deprivation was so widely known. It was a bushah (shame) to ask Boaz for money. She had been a rich, important woman; imagine going to her nephew, who remembered her as an important woman, and asking him to give her food. It was less embarrassing to go and collect leket.
The Malbim also says that Naomi already had in mind that Boaz would redeem the field and fulfill the obligation of yibum. Don’t think she didn’t go directly to Boaz because she was afraid he would turn her away. The pasuk says, “Ule-Naomi moda le’ishah.” First, he was a relative. “Ve’ohev bein le-Naomi bein le’ishah.” We can read it as: he was fond of Naomi, and he was also fond of Elimelech. “Zeh amar ule-Naomi moda, umoda le’ishah”: he was fond of Naomi and also of Elimelech. There was no reason to think he would deny her. He loved and knew her well; he wasn’t a distant relative, and he was from Elimelech’s family. “Vehu be’atzmo ish gibor chayil.” As we said, he had good qualities, including that he didn’t love money and gave it away. His name was Boaz, and he had a good reputation. There was no way he would have denied her if she had asked.
“Vatomer Rut.” Now we’re talking about Rut’s righteousness. Even though, as Chazal say, she was a daughter of the king of Moav, she agreed to go collect. Imagine telling a princess to stand in line for food stamps among all the people, all the element. The Malbim says she didn’t want her mother-in-law to go with her. Her mother-in-law might have gone, but one humiliation was enough: Naomi was known in that city for her former wealth. Rut would go herself, in case people humiliated Naomi.
That’s why the pasuk calls her “Rut HaMo’aviyah.” She could say, “I’m from Moav; they don’t know me.” She wanted to say she was from another country, so she wouldn’t be ashamed. She could go in Naomi’s place. She said, “Elchah na hasadeh,” a field, not a vineyard where there might be danger or an evil eye. She didn’t want to climb trees or do anything dangerous. She didn’t want Naomi to say, “No, that’s dangerous.” She was saying, “I’ll go to the field; don’t worry about me.”
She also said, “Ve’allaktah vashibolim,” meaning she wanted to take only leket, which the other poor people didn’t fight over. In the trees, the leket is what stays on the tree; leket and shikchah on the tree are called peret and olelot. It’s the same thing, but on a tree. There are many fields, and everyone had a particular field. The poor people had already staked out their places. Pe’ah was different: everyone grabbed at it. The law is that if nine say to divide it and one says to seize it, they listen to the one who says to seize it. If the poor people seized it by force, there would be bitterness. She was also looking for a field where the owner wouldn’t look at her with an evil eye and prevent her from collecting. Basically, she was saying, “I’m not going to fight with the poor people over pe’ah, and I’m not going to a field where I see the owner has an evil eye. I’m being selective.”
“Vatelech.” The Malbim says she didn’t travel far; she went immediately to the first field. “Vatelech vatavo”—she went to the first field, which happened to be Boaz’s. His field was close to her house. Min hashamayim, it was close. Although it was morning, when pe’ah is distributed, she didn’t go to the place of pe’ah at the end of the field. She went right away to collect leket after the reapers, not after the poor people. That morning the poor people were at the pe’ah. She didn’t want to fight over pe’ah; she went after the reapers.
“Vayiker mikreha.” The Malbim says that mikreh means something that isn’t required by the usual order of events. We call it chance or happenstance. Mikreh is used for something surprising, something unexpected. Everything is from God, but the word mikreh means something unexpected. She didn’t know she was in Boaz’s field; she got lucky, as it appeared.
The verse tells us that although it looked as if her coming to this field was chance, in truth it was “mikreh Hashem”—an occurrence arranged by God, specially for her. It was a tailor-made coincidence, which isn’t really a coincidence. This was mikreh hashgachati, an occurrence of Providence. When Hashem wants something to happen for the whole community, He sets Providence in motion. He wants to bring Mashiach now, so ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, a couple of moves. But for particular events, too, there can be a mikreh. When Eliezer went to find Rivkah (Rebecca), he said, “Hakreh na lefanai”—make coincidences happen for me. He meant: don’t wait for all the causes and circumstances to line up; let the matter happen by way of chance, quickly. There is also the slower way, through hishtadlut (human effort): you try this person, and it doesn’t work. “Bring it to me,” and it can happen through Providence.
The first field she went to was Boaz’s. The verse says Boaz was from Elimelech’s family. Now we see why her arriving there was a mikreh: Boaz was from Elimelech’s family and would be able to redeem the fields. Keep that in mind. If Hashem wants something to happen, it will happen.
“Vehineh Boaz ba.” The Rambam explains that Boaz didn’t visit his fields every day; he had managers taking care of them. That day, he showed up, and Rut happened to be there. “Vehineh” sounds like a surprise, something new. Boaz wasn’t accustomed to coming to the field, and it was a new occurrence that he came from Beit Lechem and said to the reapers, “Hashem immachem.”
Boaz made a takanah (enactment) in those days: when you saw someone, you mentioned Hashem’s name. He was on the Sanhedrin (Sanhedrin). Someone might ask, “Did Boaz do this on his own? Was he mentioning Hashem’s name in vain?” The answer is that Boaz was the judge at the time and made that takanah, perhaps because there were thieves and the greeting reminded people that Hashem was watching. “Hashem immachem” was Boaz’s takanah. It was the first day they instituted it. He came from Beit Lechem, where he had assembled the elders, and said to the reapers, “Hashem immachem.” They had never heard it before, so they answered, “Yevarechecha Hashem.” This is as it says, “Velo amru ha’ovrim birkat Hashem.”
“Vayomer Boaz lena’aro.” When Boaz saw Rut collecting alone in the field, with many bundles in front of her, he saw that she had a lot. He thought she might be unscrupulous, one of the reapers’ wives or daughters, or a relative of one of them. Perhaps one of the reapers had sent the other poor people to a different field so she could collect alone. So he asked the young man in charge of the reapers, “Lemi hana’arah hazot?” Who is the young woman taking all this?
Why did the young man answer with information Boaz hadn’t asked for? Boaz asked who she was, not for her biography. The young man answered the question and added information: “Na’arah Mo’aviyah hi hashavah im Na’omi misdeh Mo’av.” She isn’t one of our workers’ women; she’s a Moaviyah who came back with Naomi from Moav. She converted. So she isn’t a non-Jew who shouldn’t receive leket. That answers the question. He also adds that she didn’t take a portion of pe’ah or shikchah, and that she collected after the reapers. He’s now telling Boaz what exact her motive, her plan was. The other poor people were taking pe’ah; they went to other fields, since there were many fields. The poor people in this field went to another one, while she stayed to collect after the reapers.
“And she gathered bundles”—the young man means that everything she gathered into her vessel she made into a bundle. Don’t think she stole a bundle from the field. She collected close to the reapers, and they saw that she didn’t take anything that didn’t belong to her. She had been there from morning until evening. “Zeh shivtah habayit me’at”: she had only just now sat down in the shade for a little while. Until then she hadn’t rested.
“Vayomer Bo’az el Rut.” The Malbim explains that Boaz says, “Halo sham’at biti,” because the people there were judging her favorably. “Al telchi lilkot bisdeh acher”—don’t go to another field, because there they might not judge you favorably. Here, even though you have a lot, they trust you and believe you did everything properly. “Vegam lo ta’avuri mizeh”—don’t even go to another of my fields. This field’s workers get along with you; in another field the managers may not be so kind, and I can’t control it.
“Vacho tidbakin im na’arotai.” In this field the male workers are on one side and the female workers on the other. Don’t collect on the young men’s side; stay with the young women. You can hear he had two sections. “Eina’yich basadeh asher yiktzorun”—wherever you see the young women reaping, keep your eyes on that field and follow them. Don’t think this will upset the young men: “Ki halo tziviti et hane’arim levilti nago’ech.” They won’t touch you. And if you’re thirsty, go to the vessels. They’ll take care of you. The Malbim says it was fresh water, which was only for the workers. They got the tap water; you get Poland Spring.
“Vatipol.” The Malbim says she was thinking: maybe he is bringing me close because he saw something good in me, or maybe he knows my family. So first she says, “Madua matzati chen?” What did I do to find favor? Then she says, “Halo anochi nochriyah”—it can’t be my family, because I’m a stranger. She’s a convert. She doesn’t yet know he is related to Naomi.
“Vaya’an Bo’az vayomer lah.” There are two reasons she found favor in his eyes. First: “Ki huged hugad li kol asher asit et chamotech.” You are a good person; I heard what you did for your mother-in-law. The Gemara in Yevamot (Yevamot) discusses the tension between a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. There can be rivalry: the mother has cared for her son, and now another woman comes along. A mother-in-law might be jealous when her son praises his wife’s cooking. There’s a story in Gemara in Shabbat about a mother-in-law giving her daughter-in-law a kind of oil that removes hair and then lighting a match and setting her on fire. That’s an extreme case; it doesn’t always happen, but you have to be careful.
The Malbim says, “Uviphrat acharei mot ishech”: especially after your husband died. The daughter-in-law might respect her mother-in-law because of her husband, but now he has died, and still you helped her. The pasuk says, “Huged hugad li kol asher asit et chamotech acharei mot ishech.” That’s two things: you were good to your mother-in-law, and you did so after your husband died.
The second reason is your conversion. I know you converted for the sake of Heaven, because you left your father and mother and went to a nation you didn’t know. You left royalty; it wasn’t for money.
When someone wants to marry into the Syrian community, you have to ask, “Why are you converting to marry into the Syrian community? If you’re really converting because you love Judaism, why not go to Bnei Brak (Bnei Brak) or Me’ah She’arim (Meah Shearim)?” It’s strange to convert because you love Judaism when it comes with two houses, a Florida condo, a winter vacation, Sha’arei Tziyon (Gates of Zion), and lots of perks—a health club membership. If you go to Me’ah She’arim, what does it come with? A Tehillim (Psalms) book, water, and falafel. If you choose to come to Ocean Parkway and Ocean Avenue, that’s something to think about. Then you’re a ger tzedek (righteous convert), and you chose to come to Ocean Parkway and Ocean Avenue—that’s a nice one. Rut was a real giyoret.
Someone once asked Chacham Baruch about Rut HaMo’aviyah. Like Chacham Shaul, they said, “If Rut HaMo’aviyah came to the community, there’s only one Ruth; Rut is an exception.” Chacham Baruch, who was so strong on the edict, said, “Yes, even if Rut HaMo’aviyah comes, we’ll tell her to go somewhere else.”
“Lamah kafel?” Why does the pasuk use two expressions: “Yeshalem Hashem pa’olech” and “Utehi maskurtech shelemah”? The Malbim says, “Yeshalem” is for what she did for her mother-in-law, and also for her conversion. “Utehi maskurtech shelemah” is because Hashem, the God of Israel, watches over the people and the converts who join them. The Midrash says that it was enough that she came to shelter under His wings. The Malbim explains that there’s a difference between sechar and pe’ulah.
A worker or artisan receives sechar for the work. If you’re a worker and tailor a suit, you’re paid according to the job; you don’t get more than you’re supposed to. That is pe’ulah, taking the wages for the work performed. A hired worker, though, is hired for a fixed period, say three years, whether or not he does a particular job. For each mitzvah, a person receives reward separately, like a worker. “Yeshalem Hashem pa’olech” refers to that. You did a mitzvah and receive credit for it.
But when you came to convert, you accepted upon yourself the service of Hashem according to all His laws—this candy candy camera, candy candy guy. From then on, you receive the sechar of a hired worker: a continuing reward, whether you do a particular task or not. When you hire someone in your house, sometimes there’s no work to do. You have, let’s say, a guard who lives on the premises, a rich guy who owns the ground, and he doesn’t mow the lawn every day. He sits and does nothing. The person is paid for being there. So your conversion isn’t only “pa’olech”; it is “maskurtech,” continuing reward. “Tehi maskurtech shelemah”—you’ll receive continuing reward because you came to shelter under His wings. You committed yourself to serve God for your whole life. Every hour, you deserve reward.
Then “Vatomer: ‘Emtza chen.’” After he told her why she found favor, she says, “May I continue to find favor in the future.” “Ki nichamtani”—you gave me consolation. She doesn’t need to say anything else about her future livelihood, because he told her how he would provide for her. She has consolation after her husband’s death, without depending on another person.
“Vedibarta al lev shifchatecha ke’achat shifchotecha.” The Malbim explains that you spoke to me as you spoke to your maidservants, who also accepted the religion of Israel according to the law of maidservants in a Jewish household. You spoke to their hearts and told them that their reward for converting is assured by Hashem; you spoke to me that way. “Ve’anochi be’enai lo eheyeh ke’achat shifchotecha.” She means: I don’t consider myself worthy of being like your maidservants, but you’re treating me properly.
“Vayomer lah Bo’az”—at that point it was lunchtime. Boaz was a humble guy; he ate at a table with the reapers. There’s an amazing chiddush here. In Masechet Berachot (Berachot), we learned that workers who work for the owner don’t say the full Birkat Hamazon (Grace after Meals), because the owner isn’t paying them to spend time saying Birkat Hamazon. They have to eat on the owner’s time. They say an abridged version of only two blessings. But the Gemara says that if the owner eats with them, he is mochel; he waives the time. “I’m eating with you, so there’s no rush.” Boaz sat with them so they could say Birkat Hamazon properly. He was a good boss.
“Uvo’az yashav barosh.” He sat at the head of the table, and they sat around him. “Goshi halom”—come sit near Boaz. He was sitting with all the men and told Rut to come close. “Ve’achalt min halechem.” What is lechem? The Malbim says, “Lechem hu shalem, pat hu chatuch.” Pat means a piece; lechem means a whole bread. “Pat lechem” is a piece of bread, while lechem itself means a whole bread. He gave her a whole loaf to be hers, which is why she took leftovers home. The loaves were big, not little pitas. He said that whatever she ate from the loaf, she should dip in vinegar.
“Vateshev.” But she didn’t sit beside Boaz; she sat off to the side by the reapers. He also passed her parched kernels and delicacies, and gave her plenty until she was full, with leftovers.
“Vatekom vatelaket.” She didn’t wait until the workers said Birkat Hamazon. Why should she wait? “Ki ein metzarfim nashim lezimmun.” Women aren’t joined to the zimmun (invitation to bless) with the men. She was modest and knew the halachot. It isn’t proper for a woman to join the zimmun with the men, so she got up, said Birkat Hamazon by herself, and went to collect.
Boaz was monitoring everything. When she got up from the table, he told his workers, “Gam bein ha’omarim telaket.” If she collects between the bundles, don’t inspect her to see whether she stole anything; the bundles are high, and she might feel you suspect her and be insulted. “Vegam shol tasholu lah min hatzevatim”—leave bundles for her as shikchah, on purpose, and let her take them. But there’s a problem. If it isn’t really shikchah, it is subject to terumot uma’asrot (priestly gifts and tithes), while shikchah isn’t. By letting her take something that wasn’t really shikchah, they would cause her to eat it without separating terumot uma’asrot.
The Malbim says the answer is in “Va’azavtem”: make it hefker (ownerless property). Hefker is exempt. So they had to do two things: forget the bundles on purpose, and make them ownerless. That’s chochmah.
“Vatelaketah velo tig’aru vah.” Don’t yell at her, whatever she takes. Give her carte blanche; let her take what she wants. Boaz wanted to provide for her with dignity. But the pasuk tells us that, although she saw their courtesy, she didn’t take advantage. “Vatelaket”—she didn’t take the bundles they had left as shikchah; she collected only leket. She may have thought they hadn’t really forgotten them. The reason she collected so much was that she worked until evening. “Vatachbot”: the Chofetz Chaim asks why she carried it home with the chaff, since that made it too heavy. She beat it out so she could carry it to the city without the straw and chaff. “Vayehi ke’eifah se’orim.”
“Vatere chamotah.” Naomi saw it and was astonished, because it was an unusually large amount of leket. In addition, Rut gave her what she had left over from lunch. The amount of food showed that she hadn’t just collected among the poor; she must have done some work for someone. That’s why Naomi asked, “Ve’anah asit?” Where did you work, that they gave you food? They don’t feed poor people; they feed workers. So she asks two questions: where did you collect so much leket, and where did you work? “Yehi makirech baruch”—whoever showed you favor should be blessed.
“Vataged lechamotah et asher astah imo.” The Malbim says she told Naomi what she had done for him. Boaz had told her that she received favor because she had done chesed for her mother-in-law and because she had converted. So, on account of that, she found favor. “Et asher astah imo” means that what she did gave Boaz satisfaction, as if she had done him a favor. When he heard about her kindness, it was as though she had given him something. He got hana’ah (pleasure) from the chesed she had done. She explains that the man’s name was Boaz, a famous tzaddik, and those things mattered to him. It was as if she had done him a favor.
“Vatomer Naomi lechalah.” Before doing anything, Naomi blesses Boaz: “Baruch hu asher lo azav chasdo et hachayim.” She understood that he had done this to provide for the living, Naomi and Rut, with dignity. “Ve’et hametim”: she had already predicted he would take care of the yibum as well. He was the relative who would handle matters for the dead. “Asher lo azav chasdo et hachayim”—he takes care of the living; “migo’alenu hu”—he is our redeemer for the dead. Those are the two things.
“Vatomer Rut haMo’aviyah.” Rut doesn’t understand the yibum part. She knew many halachot, but why yibum? She understood the financial part: they were relatives. “Gam ki amar elai, im hane’arim asher li tidbakin.” Watch what happens. Boaz had actually said, “Vechoh tidbakin im na’arotai”—stay with my young women. Rut was a Moaviyah and didn’t yet have the sensitivity to understand what he meant. In Moav, apparently, there was no women’s section separate from the men’s, so she missed the nuance. The Malbim says she didn’t grasp Boaz’s intention that she should stay only with the women. She thought the young men were the important group and that one of them might marry her. She was thinking that perhaps one of them would take her. That’s why the pasuk says “Rut haMo’aviyah”: because she was a Moaviyah, she didn’t understand. Boaz meant specifically that she should be with the women; she understood it as “my people.” A daughter of Israel would have understood.
I once sat a couple down and said that under the chupah (wedding canopy) they had to be modest and cover up. “Rabbi, we have shawls.” They came to the wedding wearing shawls, but they were see-through. Lace. “What is this? Are you kidding?” They thought of shawls as some kind of segulah (special spiritual practice): “The Rabbi said shawl, so we put on a shawl.” They didn’t even think it was to cover up. You’d think a daughter of Israel would understand, but nowadays a daughter of Israel doesn’t always figure that out either.
“Vatomer Na’omi.” Naomi has to correct her: “Tov biti ki tetz’i im na’arotav.” She gives Rut a lesson in tzni’ut. When Boaz said “na’arot,” he meant the young women. Don’t go around with the young men; we don’t want you to come under suspicion. “Vatidbak bena’arot Bo’az.” Rut listened and stayed with Boaz’s young women. As the pasuk says, “Bena’arot Bo’az ad kelot ketzir hase’orim.” This continued for three months. The Gemara says that a giyoret can’t marry until she has been a convert for three months, in case she was pregnant beforehand and no one would know. So it worked out perfectly: Boaz couldn’t touch her before three months. The barley harvest lasted three months. Hashem arranged it perfectly. That’s the last pasuk.
“Ve’al ken achar avor zman”—after the barley harvest, he’ll begin the yibum process. “Vateshev et chamotah.” What does that mean? The Malbim says that although she stayed with Boaz’s young women for a long time, it was only when she needed to collect. As the pasuk says, “Vatidbak bena’arot Bo’az lelaket.” She didn’t take advantage of the situation by staying over or going to dinner because they were friends now. It was for collecting, not socializing. When there was nothing to collect, she went back to her mother-in-law; she didn’t visit Boaz’s young women. Her love for her mother-in-law rose above everything.
Rabotai, we’re halfway through the best piece of the Malbim. Be’ezrat Hashem, next week, same time.