Integrity and trust are essential for any relationship whether friendship, marriage or in public life. Both seem to be under a cloud at the moment among our political leaders, whether Prime Minister Scott Morrison or Premiers Daniel Andrews and Gladys Berejiklian. The word integrity comes from the Latin integer meaning whole or undivided. So in mathematics, an integer is a whole number without any fraction. If a person lives with integrity there is a wholeness – their words and actions match – they do what they say. We might call them authentic or honest. The Bible uses words like straight and upright to describe such people. I wonder if you know people who live like this? Or were influenced by people who lived like this?

In the story of Ruth, Boaz is a person of integrity. When challenged by Ruth to act as next-of-kin for herself and Naomi, Boaz promises that he will act to ‘redeem’ them and will do so that very day. He is as good as his word and gathers the necessary witnesses to fulfil his promise. He buys the land belonging to Elimelech, Naomi’s now dead husband, and takes responsibility of providing for Naomi and Ruth. Boaz also marries Ruth and they have a son Obed, who has a son Jesse, whose youngest son, David, later becomes the most famous king of Israel. Integrity leads to unexpected blessing.

In a culture where so much seems to depend on appearance and spin, the biblical emphasis on integrity is helpful reminder that a person’s character matters just as much if not more than their words or their social media presence. Sometimes we may make promises we later regret or that are costly to fulfil. A person of integrity will either make good on their promise, despite the cost, or will explain openly why they can no longer do so (e.g. how the circumstances have changed). If politicians would act in this way then perhaps they would regain the trust they have lost.

Living with vulnerability is a fact of life for many people in our world. This may be due to illness, disability, age or gender. It may be due to our social situation as a single parent, or a widow, or a refugee or an indigenous person. For people involved in creative pursuits, vulnerability comes with the territory. But for some people, especially males, vulnerability is often seen as weakness. Hence we may be reticent to share what we are really feeling. By following the cultural expectation that we need to appear strong and in control, we avoid making ourselves vulnerable and may as a result end up lonely and disconnected from others.

As widows, Ruth and Naomi are very vulnerable. They are limited in what work they can do and their hence finances are precarious. The Hebrew word for widow literally means one who is silenced or bound. So in many ways they are unseen and unheard. To survive in such a male dominated world they must be both shrewd and courageous. So in the middle chapters of the story we see Ruth doing what she can to scratch a living by gleaning (picking up grain that has been left behind or dropped by the harvesters). Later she and Naomi hatch a plan to persuade Boaz, a close male relative of Naomi, to act on their behalf. This plan is daring and requires great courage to pull off. You can read the details in Ruth chapter 3.

The thing about choosing to make ourselves vulnerable is that it always involves risk. We may be rejected or mocked. We may be misunderstood. We may be regarded as weak. We may suffer pain or violence. But the surprising part is that being vulnerable with each other is essential if we want real or deep connection with one another. It’s also the gateway to creativity and innovation, since any artistic or creative venture requires vulnerability. The question for us is whether we are prepared to take the risk of being vulnerable in order to build connections or to be creative.