Chapter 26 Ruth

With the end of school, Ruth began attending the Friday night Bible studies I led at Ark. I occasionally asked others in the group to lead it. When I asked Ruth if she would like to lead, she surprised me by saying yes.

The following Friday night, she gave a study on the Sabbath. I was astonished at her approach. She used none of the Bible passages commonly cited by Adventists in our promotion of Sabbath-keeping. Instead Ruth had us read passages from the Psalms and elsewhere that voiced praise to God for his work in creation and in rescuing people from all kinds of difficulties. As Ruth wrapped up her presentation, she said Sabbath was about remembering the good things that come from God’s work of Creation and Redemption.

I was blown away. All the Adventist discourse about Sabbath-keeping I had ever heard focused on either arguments about which day–Saturday or Sunday–was the right day or what was permitted and prohibited on the Sabbath. Well, that and arguments about the role Sabbath would play in testing the spiritual loyalty of people in the last days. Ruth brushed past all that and turned Sabbath into an occasion for worship.
One Friday, our meeting went quite late. We didn’t quit until ten o’clock. Colin was there that evening. As we were breaking up the meeting, Colin expressed concern about Ruth taking the subway to Brooklyn alone at that hour of the night.

“Oh, don’t be silly.” she laughingly protested to him. “I’ve ridden the subway all my life.”

“But, at this hour of the night? I don’t think Willie would be too happy for you to be riding by yourself this late." Colin turned to me. “Johnny why don’t you take her home?”

“Sure, I’d be happy to do that.”

“No, you can’t.” Ruth sputtered. “You won’t get home until midnight.”

“Which precisely makes our point. It’s late. You will be riding the subway and getting off in Park Slope at 11:00 p.m. You need someone with you.”

“You guys are being silly. You’re acting like mother hens.”

“Yes, but we’ll feel better if we know you are safely home." I said. "I’m going with you.”

Ruth and I walked through Times Square to the subway. We sat together on the bench seat. Our hands in our laps, our arms not quite touching. The sense of her closeness was intoxicating. We talked about her father who was a sailor and gone from home months at a time. I learned about her excursions with her brothers into upstate New York looking for bonsai specimens along rocky ridges. She was more and more fascinating.

We exited the subway and walked the six blocks to her house. It was classic Brooklyn, shops on the ground floor along Prospect Ave. Three- and four-story brownstones on the side streets. Trash cans at the curb. People on the sidewalks. Not a lot at that hour, but enough to make the place feel populated, friendly.
I said good night and watched her climb the steps to her front door. She didn’t look back. Once she was inside, I turned to walk to the subway, dizzy with desire and confused guilt because of the desire. I had no business getting involved with her.