The Gospel of Ruth

The Gospel of Ruth: Loving God Enough to Break the Rules

By Carolyn Custis James (224 pages)

Published by Zondervan

Bookish rating: 4

I must admit that I have a soft spot for Carolyn Custis James. She calls herself an “evangelical thinker,” which of course brings to mind images of Joel Olsteen and his too-many-teeth smile—at least until you get to the “thinker” part of phrase. At that point, the phrase sounds like an oxymoron.

But James is a thinker. And I heart her. Why? Because, like me, she is in that in-between spot between conservative Christianity’s steadfast nature and liberal Christianity’s let’s-love-everybody common sense. She has devoted her career to promoting greater leadership of women within the church and she is oh so skeptical of the whole wives-submit-to-your-husbands bit. (Disclosure: I’m a member of a “liberal” Protestant denomination, but not until after a lot of mental tug-of-war in which I came to believe that the traditional views on—and treatment of— women, gays, lesbians, and dinosaurs [evolution] were too black-and-white or, um, wrong.)

Although I suspect our opinions on many issues differ (or hey, maybe they don’t), James has done very, very good things for women.

In The Gospel of Ruth, James does an old-fashioned exegesis of the story of Ruth and her mother-in-law, Naomi, of the Old Testament. (I love the book of Ruth—in fact, our wedding ceremony centered on this text.) Instead of presenting the story of Ruth and her so-called rescuer, Boaz, as sentimental or romantic, James details the ancient Hebrew laws and customs, the historical context, and the entirely disenfranchised status of widows—especially those who have lost their children (read: sons) or are barren. In doing so, James shows how ballsy Ruth is—and what a rule breaker she is.

Ruth breaks all sorts of rules and customs aimed at keeping her down—or even protecting her—because she is a woman.

I won’t detail all of James’s theological points, but James herself makes a ballsy move by seriously challenging the wisdom of dissuading present-day women from making noise in their churches or becoming leaders. And yes, much to my delight, she (albeit very politely) deliberately and thoughtfully refuses to buy into the myth of wifely submission.

Friends, this is the first time I’ve ever read such words from an evangelical, or in a book published by Zondervan.

I hope that I’ve just been reading the wrong books.

James also does great favors for women by openly discussing miscarriage and infertility, or what the Old Testament would charmingly call “barrenness.” In the church, particularly more conservative ones, pregnancy, children, and raising children are highly lauded. Honestly, pregnancy loss might actually be dealt with BETTER in such churches, as the loss is never minimized. Everyone is very aware that a BABY has been lost, and that it is a great loss.

But infertility? No one talks about that. In today’s culture, even church culture, it’s devastating and isolating. In Ruth’s culture? During a famine? Your lack of status or sons to care for you could literally mean your death.

James, who struggled greatly to conceive, zeroes in on this aspect of Ruth’s story. She gives voice to the woman struggling to have a baby. It’s a powerful segment of the book.

James writes to a broad audience. Her book isn’t intended for PhD candidates seeking to get confused by big words or the nature of God. Though well researched and reasoned, The Gospel of Ruth is aimed at the lay reader. As such, the tone of her writing can be almost annoyingly polite. Or something. Personally, I like more edge, more voice to the tone of writing, even in the more scholarly stuff, and James’s writing voice is a bit on the bland side for me.

That said, there’s a lot of good stuff in The Gospel of Ruth, no matter where you land on the Christianity conservative-to-liberal scale. Recommended.