Ruth 2:4–7

Ruth 2:4 — "May Yahweh be with you" The abruptness of Boaz's entrance — signaled by the Hebrew exclamation hinnēh ("behold") — is the narrator's way of marking a charged, providential moment. He arrives from Bethlehem (Hebrew mibbêt leḥem, "from the house of bread"), a detail the author does not waste: the one who will prove to be the source of sustenance and redemption comes forth from the place whose very name speaks of nourishment. What is most theologically striking in verse 4 is the exchange of liturgical greetings between Boaz and his workers. "May Yahweh be with you" / "May Yahweh bless you" is not casual workplace pleasantry; it is covenantal language drawn from the cultic life of Israel (cf. Ps 129:8). The use of the divine name YHWH — the covenant name revealed at the burning bush — signals that Boaz understands his daily work and his relationship with laborers within the framework of the Mosaic covenant. He is, from the first word he speaks, a man whose tongue and heart are ordered to God. The Church Fathers noted the moral weight of this: a just man's household is a kind of domestic sanctuary.

Ruth 2:5 — "Whose young lady is this?" Boaz's question, directed to his foreman rather than directly to Ruth, reflects both the social customs of the ancient Near East and a kind of deliberate, watchful prudence. The Hebrew na'arāh ("young woman" or "maiden") carries no condescension; it is the same word used of Rebekah (Gen 24:16) and of the daughters of Zelophehad. Boaz notices Ruth. In the Hebrew narrative economy, what a man sees and inquires about reveals the state of his heart (cf. Gen 29:10; 1 Sam 16:6–7). That Boaz singles her out from all the gleaners is not mere curiosity — subsequent verses will show that he has already heard of her — but it functions narratively as the first act of the gō'ēl (kinsman-redeemer), whose very vocation is to look toward the forgotten and marginalized member of the family and act.

Ruth 2:6 — "The Moabite lady who came back with Naomi" The foreman's answer is layered. He identifies Ruth first by her ethnic-national origin ("the Moabite"), a marker that would have carried enormous weight for an Israelite audience. Moabites were excluded from the assembly of the LORD to the tenth generation (Deut 23:3). Yet the foreman immediately qualifies this with the relational context: she returned with Naomi. The structure of the answer forces the hearer to hold both realities at once — she is an outsider by blood, but an insider by covenant loyalty (ḥesed). This is the Book of Ruth's signature theological move: the one presumed to be most distant from God's covenant people is, in fact, its most vivid embodiment.

Ruth 2:7 — "She has continued even from the morning until now" The foreman's final observation is a character reference of the highest order. Ruth did not merely ask permission and then glean lazily; she arrived at dawn and has worked without ceasing. The small detail — "except that she rested a little in the house" — far from diminishing the portrait, deepens it: she is diligent but not reckless, humble but not servile. She asked permission ("Please let me glean"), observing proper social protocol despite her desperate need. The Hebrew dāḇeqāh ("she has continued," or more literally "she cleaved/clung") deliberately echoes the same root used in Ruth 1:14, where Ruth "clung" (dāḇeqāh) to Naomi rather than returning to Moab. Her fidelity in the field mirrors her fidelity on the road: she is constitutionally incapable of half-measures.

Typological and Spiritual Senses The Fathers and medieval commentators read Boaz consistently as a type of Christ, the true gō'ēl, the divine kinsman-redeemer who comes from Bethlehem to redeem what was lost. His greeting — "Yahweh be with you" — anticipates the angelic salutation to Mary (Luke 1:28) and Christ's farewell promise ("I am with you always," Matt 28:20). Ruth, the Gentile who enters Israel through love and fidelity, prefigures the Church gathered from among the nations. Her gleaning at the margins of the field — permitted by the Mosaic law of leket (gleaning rights for the poor, cf. Lev 19:9–10) — images the Gentile Church feeding on the revelation that was first given to Israel, receiving the surplus left by divine mercy precisely so that none would go hungry.

Catholic tradition, drawing on both the patristic and the medieval allegorical methods, has consistently seen this scene as a compressed image of the Church's relationship to Christ and to Israel. St. Ambrose of Milan (De Viduis 4) reads Ruth's posture of gleaning as an image of the soul that approaches the sacred text humbly, gathering what the greater harvesters — the prophets and apostles — have left behind for her instruction. The Venerable Bede, in his In Librum Ruth, develops the typology further: Boaz's blessing of his workers is a figure of Christ who, entering the world from the heavenly Bethlehem, blesses those who labor in the harvest of souls (cf. Matt 9:37–38).

The Catechism of the Catholic Church §128–130 affirms the legitimacy and necessity of typological reading: "The Church, as early as apostolic times, and then constantly in her Tradition, has illuminated the unity of the divine plan in the two Testaments through typology." The figure of Boaz as gō'ēl (kinsman-redeemer) directly illuminates the Catholic understanding of Christ's redemptive work: just as the gō'ēl was required to be of the same kin as the one redeemed, so the Incarnation was necessary — the Son of God had to become bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh (cf. Heb 2:14–17), in order to exercise the prerogative of redemption.

Ruth's dual identity — Moabite by birth, daughter of Israel by ḥesed — also opens onto the Catholic doctrine of the universal salvific will of God (CCC §851, §836). The Second Vatican Council's Lumen Gentium §16 affirms that God's saving designs extend beyond the visible boundaries of Israel and the Church to all who sincerely seek Him. Ruth stands as the Old Testament's most vivid icon of this truth: grace does not follow the boundaries drawn by ethnicity or geography, but by the contours of the human heart turned toward God.

Contemporary Catholics who work in secular environments — offices, farms, hospitals, schools — are tempted to partition their faith from their professional life. Boaz refuses this partition entirely: his first act upon arriving at his field is to invoke the covenant name of God over his workers. His workplace is a liturgical space. This is not a pious affectation but a lived conviction that all legitimate human labor is, as Gaudium et Spes §34 teaches, a participation in the creative and redemptive work of God.

Ruth's example speaks equally directly to those who are newcomers — to a parish, a country, a community — and who wonder whether they belong. She does not wait to be noticed or invited; she presents herself, observes the rules of the community she is entering, and works with wholehearted dedication. She neither erases her identity (she is still "the Moabite") nor allows it to become a barrier. For Catholics who minister to immigrants, refugees, or the marginalized, this text is not merely an illustration of charity — it is a reminder that the stranger at the edges of our field may be, like Ruth, the one through whom God is quietly working the most extraordinary act of redemption.