BITTER VS BETTER

WHO LOVES YA, BABY?

WHO DO YOU LOVE? (Or did he mean, HooDoo Love!?) (“Dr.” John, circa 1968)

“WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM?”

“The Alien Corn.”

John Patrick made the comment that during WWII, most Britons knew what this Bible verse, from the book of Ruth, meant.  Today you could not find one Brit in 1000 who would have any idea of either the origin or meaning of this quote.  And Biblical illiteracy in the USA is far deeper, worse, and wider than that. 

None the less, the book of Ruth is important to know, thoroughly. For it was written in the latter days of the period of the Judges, a very chaotic time during which, “every man did what was right in his own eyes.”  (or at least they did until their enemies took advantage of their unbelief and oppressed and conquered them; then they would, with saddest regularity, call out to God to deliver them. Or at least deliver some food—alien corn if you will…)

The entire picture of Ruth is one that repeats itself over and over in times of chaos, such as we are currently experiencing—WWII would be another of those times, of course, making Ruth a perfect reference point, a sane alien who loves her mother-in-law unconditionally, benefits or no benefits. It is also a vivid picture of “Marah”, the bitter Naomi, who has lost everything—she thinks—and like modern conservatives, is so focused on her loss of privileges that she can’t see the blessings a few inches from her face, being wet with the intermingling tears shared by her and Ruth.

As I have long averred, God is a Person Who is interested in, and loves, persons not only in the Bible but here and now; and that our “greatest gain I count but loss.”  (When I Survey the Wondrous Cross—read those words and try not to shed a tear…) The Greatest Provision for Ultimate and Most Intimate Fellowship Forever is, like Boaz, the “kinsman redeemer,” just around the corner; and fully available to “whosoever will.”

But like both Ruth and Naomi, we have to let go of the alien corn on which we fed in the “far country” of the Prodigal Son.  There is a monkey trap used by some tribes which consists of putting grain into a small hole in a tree, a hole just large enough to allow a monkey hand to enter; but not to exit if the monkey has a fistful of kernels.  In many cases the monkey is so greedy that it will not let go, and his/her captors arrive in the morning to “harvest” the monkey; without even losing so much as a grain of rice. And it starts all over again with the next monkey.

(Will this be welcome news to those who still think we are glorified chimps; I mean, chumps?)

Rapid entropic decay takes away entire civilizations that depend on an accumulation of conquests, wealth, and privilege.  There seems to be no movement in our country that would tend to move us, as a whole, from our handfuls of rotting grain, to “my greatest gain.”  If there is, it will have to take place on the level of individuals letting go, willingly (Ruth)or unwillingly (Naomi), of that bondage to animal comforts of creatures who insist they were never created, but “got this all on my own.”