But as I’ve been making my way through Israel’s history, I’ve discovered another earlier possible reason for the breakdown. It’s found in 1 Samuel 8:10-20 where the prophet warned the people about the changes to society that a king would bring.
Among other things, the warning portends two areas of dramatic change: A king would confiscate the people’s land, and he would confiscate people to work the land and serve him in other ways. This had the potential to devastate familial wealth and exacerbate the poverty of marginalized people—people without land and close family ties.
How does loss of land contribute to poverty?
In Israel, each tribe was allotted a portion of land; within that region resided clans and families. Each had their own plot, which was passed down through generations. It was not to be sold outside the tribe (Numbers 36:7). If land was sold or lost through debt, it could be redeemed by a kinsman (brother), or returned to the rightful owner in the year of jubilee (Leviticus 25:13-28). It was very important for each Israelite to have a permanent piece of Israel.
The land, moreover, shall not be sold permanently, for the land is Mine; for you are but aliens and sojourners with Me. Thus for every piece of your property, you are to provide for the redemption of the land. —Leviticus 25:23-24
What, then, happened to this system of inheritance, when a king confiscated land? Could it be redeemed from his possession? Would it revert to its original owner in years of jubilee? Who kept all these property records? The king? His nobles? Could they be trusted when they had an interest in keeping it for themselves?
Were families allowed to sue the king in order to retain their property, or have it returned? The king would have been the final judge! Who would hold him accountable?
Kings not only wanted land, they wanted the best land. What happened to the stability of a family, clan, or tribe when the most productive fields, vineyards, and groves were gone? How did people survive if the land left to them was infertile? How did they sustain growing families?
An egregious example of land theft is recorded in 1 Kings 21:1-16. King Ahab had asked Naboth to trade land for another plot, but Naboth refused. “The Lord forbid me that I should give you the inheritance of my fathers.” Because Ahab sulked over this denial of his wishes, Queen Jezebel had their neighbor killed. Ahab then happily took possession. They violated the pro-life ethic over a petty grievance.
Conscripting people also contributes to poverty
The king would also take people—sons and daughters, servants and, ultimately, you—to work land that had formerly been yours, to serve in his court, to fight in his army, to make his food and mix his perfumes. Men and women were taken from their own work to serve him. If you were not among those chosen to serve him, your labor and taxes supported all these enterprises. Who was left to work the land left to you? How much hardship was caused by a shrinking labor pool?
Rehoboam is an example of a king who was too severe in his demand for service from his subjects. At one point, his father King Solomon had 180,000 forced laborers with 3,300 supervisors; he worked them hard (1 Kings 5:13-17). When he died, the people asked for relief from his successor (1 Kings 12:12-15). Rehoboam refused, opting instead to heartlessly increase the people’s burden, even though Leviticus 25:46 says that one's fellow Israelites were not to be “ruled with severity.”
As with the conscription of land, the conscription of people raises many questions: Were soldiers and servants paid by the king? What happened to those who could no longer work due to age or disability? Were the poor allowed to glean the edges of land belonging to the king (Lev. 19:10, Dt. 24:19-22)?
What happened to the system of indentured servitude, in which impoverished people could pay off personal debts (Lev. 25:39-55; Dt. 15:12-18)? If they were taken into the king’s service, would the king pay off their creditors? Could the king's servants be redeemed by a relative? Would they be released from the king’s service in the seventh year, or the year of jubilee, or were they doomed to perpetual slavery?
It’s easy to see why people who were giving so much to their king would find it hard to be generous to the poor. The establishment of a kingdom, though it may have resolved some problems, led to other serious ones.
Was this new style of government the end of charitable giving by individuals? Was care for the poor all on the government now? Or did ordinary people still find ways to help the less fortunate? We’ll explore these questions in our next post.
Boaz: A shining example of brother-keeping
It’s so interesting that the book of Ruth is positioned at the end of the period when judges ruled and before the beginning of monarchy. It reminds us how well God’s charitable system worked when people obeyed Him.
Naomi was a widow returning from Moab to Israel with her foreign daughter-in-law Ruth. There was still land in her husband’s name, but no one had plowed or planted it. There would be nothing for her and Ruth to glean.
Naomi and her family had been chased out of Israel by famine. Perhaps their land hadn’t been very productive to begin with, and then drought or pests or disease took its toll on crops. Conditions were not just bad physically, they were spiritually awful. People were openly worshiping idols, and they had abandoned God’s law. The kinsman-redeemer ideal was all but forgotten.
It doesn’t seem wise for them to have left Israel for Moab, but perhaps they’d had no choice. Leviticus 25:35 urges countrymen to help a brother who’s become poor “that he may live with you,” so he isn’t forced to leave. Naomi and her husband Elimelech had been set adrift in a foreign country to fend for themselves.
Returning home years later, Naomi saw her prospects as bleak. Would anyone help her now that she had no husband and no sons? Did generosity exist? Or were people as heartless as they’d been when they left?
To her surprise and delight, at least one man is following the laws of gleaning and kinsman-redemption. Boaz also seemed pleasantly surprised that Ruth—a godless woman, for all he knew—was faithful to his relative by marriage and working hard to sustain them both.
There were still pockets of danger. Boaz urged Ruth to keep working in his fields because he couldn’t vouch for her safety elsewhere; perhaps other landowners wouldn’t look so kindly on a stranger and other men might abuse her.
Indeed, not everyone was as attuned to God’s law or interested in preserving a dead relative’s land and name. Neither were they necessarily concerned about harm that neglect does to the ones left behind. Boaz knew Elimelech’s land was in jeopardy. If no one stepped in to help, and if the women couldn’t work the land, they would fall into debt; she and Ruth would have to sell it and possibly go into servitude to pay their debt.
Boaz' generosity is contrasted by the stinginess of a closer relative who refused to risk anything to rescue Naomi and Ruth from poverty. His heart was hardened toward them, he looked upon them with a hostile eye, and he did not open his hands to help (Dt 15:7-11). If Boaz hadn’t acted, their blood would have been on his and this unnamed person’s head.
Ruth and Boaz would become ancestors of Israel’s second king. One wonders how their story influenced David. Boaz was a shining example of brother-keeping, so it’s not surprising we would see compassion and generosity in a later descendant… Jesus Christ. It’s also not surprising He would expect His followers to be the same.
Next: Pro-life man and woman, king and commoner
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Image credit: Head of an Old Peasant Woman with White Cap, Vincent van Gogh, 1884; Von der Heydt Museum, Wuppertal, Germany; public domain, https://www.wikiart.org/en/vincent-van-gogh/head-of-an-old-peasant-woman-with-white-cap-1884
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