The Long and Winding Road

The Lineage of Mashiach from Lot’s Cave to Rut’s Devotion
The lineage of Mashiach is not only unexpected—it is shocking. It begins in darkness: incest, foreign kings, opposition, sorcery, sabotage. Mashiach emerges not in spite of the klipah, but through it.
Balak hates Yisrael—not passively, but actively. His reign was consumed with cursing the people of Hashem. And yet—from his loins would come the paternal great-grandmother of David ha-Melech—Rut ha-Moaviyah. This isn't contradiction; it is sod.
Our story begins with Lot and the aftermath of the destruction of S'dom and the other cities of the plain. Lot and two daughters are spared in the merit of Avraham Avinu. They initially escaped to Tzo'ar, but after witnessing the fire and brimstone, Lot was afraid to stay there, as it is written (Bereshit 19:30): כִּי יָרֵא לָשֶׁבֶת בְּצוֹעַר (For he was afraid to dwell in Tzo'ar). Therefore, they left and found a cave that offered protection. Fearing that no one was left alive to marry them and repopulate the world, the firstborn daughter devised a plan (Bereshit 19:32): לְכָה נַשְׁקֶה אֶת־אָבִינוּ יַיִן וְנִשְׁכְּבָה עִמּוֹ וּנְחַיֶּה מֵאָבִינוּ זָרַע (Come, let's give our father wine to drink, and let's lie with him, and we shall preserve offspring from our father). In a display of chutzpah, the son sired from the first night's union was called Moav—meaning 'from father.' As Rashi says on Bereshit 19:37: זוֹ שֶׁלֹּא הָיְתָה צְנוּעָה פֵּרְשָׁה שֶׁמֵּאָבִיהָ הוּא (This one, who was not modest, said explicitly that he was [conceived] of her father).
Many years later, after B'nei Yisrael left Egypt and crossed the Yam Suf, we encounter Moav as a nation, not just as Lot's son (Shemot 15:15): אָז נִבְהֲלוּ אַלּוּפֵי אֱדוֹם אֵילֵי מוֹאָב יֹאחֲזֵמוֹ רָעַד (Then the chiefs of Edom were confounded, the mighty ones of Moav were seized with trembling). What were they afraid of? Commentators offer different answers: Yisrael's military might, supernatural power, or a world-order upended forever. Perhaps all of the above. Either way, at the end of the wilderness period, we are introduced to Balak, the king of Moav (Bemidbar 22:2-3):וַיַּרְא בָּלָק בֶּן־צִפּוֹר אֵת כׇּל־אֲשֶׁר־עָשָׂה יִשְׂרָאֵל לָאֱמֹרִי׃וַיָּגׇר מוֹאָב מִפְּנֵי הָעָם מְאֹד כִּי רַב־הוּא (And Balak ben Tzippor saw all that Yisrael had done to the Emori. And Moav was very scared of the people because they were many).
The pattern is clear. From the moment Lot was dragged out of S'dom and came to Tzo'ar, to when B'nei Yisrael was poised to enter Eretz Cana'an, Moav's primary character trait was fear—not holy fear toward Hashem, but distorted and misdirected fear. Therefore, when Balak sent messengers to hire Bilam to curse Yisrael, he did so because his soul was rooted in fear. Yet, even this klipah of fear-based control began to crack almost immediately.
At Bilam’s instruction, Balak prepared sacrifices in anticipation of prophetic revelation (Bemidbar 23:1-2): וַיֹּאמֶר בִּלְעָם אֶל־בָּלָק בְּנֵה־לִי בָזֶה שִׁבְעָה מִזְבְּחֹת וְהָכֵן לִי בָּזֶה שִׁבְעָה פָרִים וְשִׁבְעָה אֵילִים: וַיַּעַשׂ בָּלָק כַּאֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר בִּלְעָם וַיַּעַל בָּלָק וּבִלְעָם פָּר וָאַיִל בַּמִּזְבֵּחַ׃ (And Bilam said to Balak, Build me for this, seven altars, and prepare for me seven bulls and seven rams. And Balak did as Bilam had spoken, and Balak and Bilam offered up a bull and a ram on [each] altar). This was repeated two more times, bringing the total to forty-two offerings—corresponding to the forty-two letter name of Hashem encoded in the well-known prayer אָנָּא בְּכֹחַ [Ana b'Koach, 'Please, through the power of…'], which is found in every siddur. The Gemara remarks about this (Sotah 47a): שֶׁבִּשְׂכַר אַרְבָּעִים וּשְׁנַיִם קׇרְבָּנוֹת שֶׁהִקְרִיב בָּלָק מֶלֶךְ מוֹאָב, זָכָה וְיָצְתָה מִמֶּנּוּ רוּת שֶׁיָּצָא מִמֶּנָּה שְׁלֹמֹה (That in the merit of the forty-two offerings which Balak, king of Moav, offered, he merited that Rut came from him, from whom came Shlomo). And, of course, Shlomo ha-Melech, built the Beit ha-Mikdash, the source and root of kedushah in the world! Is this not strange? Balak's intentions were rooted in the Sitra Achra, in fear and opposition to holiness—and yet, Heaven saw merit in his actions. Although they were intended for evil, the act itself was, somehow, spiritually significant. In a certain way, they cracked the very fabric of evil itself, creating a ripple in Heaven that could not be left unrewarded.
Let's now fast-forward to the period of the Judges (Shofetim 3:12): וַיֹּסִפוּ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לַעֲשׂוֹת הָרַע בְּעֵינֵי יְיָ וַיְחַזֵּק יְיָ אֶת־עֶגְלוֹן מֶלֶךְ־מוֹאָב עַל־יִשְׂרָאֵל עַל כִּי־עָשׂוּ אֶת־הָרַע בְּעֵינֵי יְיָ (And B'nei Yisrael again did evil in the sight of Hashem, so Hashem strengthened Eglon, King of Moav, against Yisrael because they had done evil in the sight of Hashem). Who was Eglon? The Gemara in Sotah 47a is clear about this. He is called עֶגְלוֹן בְּנוֹ שֶׁל בָּלָק (Eglon, the son of Balak). Whether 'son' means son or descendant is not germane to our discussion. Our point is merely that Eglon, as King of Moav in the time of the Judges was a physical descendant of Balak, King of Moav, in the time of Moshe Rabbeinu.
Sefer Shofetim explains that Yisrael was subjugated by Eglon for eighteen years. But that when they cried out to Hashem for deliverance, He raised up Ehud ben Gera specifically for that mission. Most swordsmen carried their sword on the left thigh, but Ehud, being left-handed, strapped it to his right—an unusual placement that went undetected. Granted a private audience with the king, he was assumed to be unarmed. The guards let him through, and Eglon, feeling secure, dismissed his attendants.
This brings us to the key moment (Shofetim 3:20): וְאֵהוּד בָּא אֵלָיו וְהוּא־יֹשֵׁב בַּעֲלִיַּת הַמְּקֵרָה אֲשֶׁר־לוֹ לְבַדּוֹ וַיֹּאמֶר אֵהוּד דְּבַר־אֱלֹקִים לִי אֵלֶיךָ וַיָּקׇם מֵעַל הַכִּסֵּא׃ (And Ehud came to him, and he was sitting alone in his cool upper loft, and Ehud said, 'I have a word of G-d for you.' And he [Eglon] stood up from his chair). Ehud then drew his sword and killed him—but that's not our focus. What matters here is the spiritual undercurrent of the event. As Rashi writes: לְכָךְ זָכָה וְיָצְאָה מִמֶּנּוּ רוּת (Therefore, he merited that Rut descended from him). R' Yitzchak bar Ami adds (Sanhedrin 60a): וַהֲלֹא דְּבָרִים קַל וָחוֹמֶר? וּמָה עֶגְלוֹן מֶלֶךְ מוֹאָב שֶׁהוּא גּוֹי וְלֹא יָדַע אֶלָּא בְּכִינּוּי – עָמַד, יִשְׂרָאֵל וְשֵׁם הַמְפוֹרָשׁ – עַל אַחַת כַּמָּה וְכַמָּה (Is this not a kal v'chomer? If Eglon, King of Moav—a gentile who knew only a secondary Name [i.e. Elokim], stood up, then how much more should a Jew [who knows] the Explicit Name [i.e. the Tetragrammaton], do the same?).
His reward? That Rut would descend from him. But just for standing up once time in his life? Yes. He stood out of respect, expecting a prophetic message from G-d. As it is written in the Midrash (Rut Rabbah 2:9): אָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אַתָּה עָמַדְתָּ מִכִּסְאֲךָ לִכְבוֹדִי, חַיֶּיךָ הֲרֵינִי מַעֲמִיד מִמְךָ בֵּן יוֹשֵׁב עַל כִּסֵּא השם (Ha-Kadosh, baruch Hu, said to [Eglon]: You stood up from your throne for My honor. By your life, I will raise up from you a son who will sit on the throne of Hashem).
This was the repercussion of the crack in the fabric of evil that we mentioned above. Although Eglon oppressed Yisrael, that single act of fear was utterly sincere. This marked a turning point. Whereas Balak represented external fear, opposition to kedushah, seeking to control through curses, Eglon represented a flicker of inner fear, a moment of genuine awe before G-d.
Before proceeding to Rut herself, we should know that there's a disagreement about her actual relationship to Eglon. R' Yosi ben Choni taught (Sotah 47a): רוּת בִּתּוֹ שֶׁל עֶגְלוֹן בְּנוֹ שֶׁל בָּלָק הָיְתָה (Rut was the daughter of Eglon, the son of Balak). However, R' Yosi the son of R' Chanina taught (Nazir 23b): רוּת בַּת בְּנוֹ שֶׁל עֶגְלוֹן מֶלֶךְ מוֹאָב הָיְתָה (Rut was the granddaughter of Eglon, King of Moav). Either way, whether she was his daughter or granddaughter, this lineage matters. It matters because Rut embodies the ultimate paradox—princess of Moav transformed into mother of Mashiach—the consummation of a fallen lineage that began in depravity, hatred, and opposition yet culminated in love and redemption.
She had it all—wealth, power, influence—everything that her royal upbringing could provide. But she gave it all up. When Naomi initially set out to return to Eretz Yisrael, she had Rut and Orpah with her. It is written in Rut 1:7: וַתֵּלַכְנָה בַדֶּרֶךְ (And they walked on the road). The Midrash explains the meaning of this phrase (Yalkut Shimoni, Remez 601): שמלמד שהולכות יחפות וגופן נוגעות בארץ (This teaches that they walked barefoot and their bodies touched the earth). Such was their level of poverty when they left Moav. They didn't even have enough money to buy shoes for their feet. Naomi and Rut walked that way the whole distance to Beit Lechem!
We can understand why Naomi did such a thing—she did what she had to do. She didn't have much of a choice. She was simply returning home. But Rut? Why would Rut voluntarily be moser nefesh to such an extent? She saw what very few others—including most Jews—fail to see. She saw the Infinite Light of Hashem clearly and knew it could only be attained through the Jewish People. What motivated her? In a word—love. And nothing would hinder her—neither riches, family, status nor power. This is why it is written (Rut 1:14): וְרוּת דָּבְקָה בָּהּ (And Rut clung to her [i.e. Naomi]). And with these famous words, Rut reveals a truth that even Sinai did not.
We see this spelled out by the Chatam Sofer in his analysis of Rut's famous words to Naomi in Rut 1:16-17. He finds hints to three essential characteristics that every Jew must possess (Chatam Sofer Al ha-Torah, Megillat Rut): שאל יתבייש בפני המלעיגים…שיהי' לו בטחון חזק בה'…שיהי' עניו וסבלן שאם יענישנו הקב"ה יקבל באהבה (One must not be embarrassed before scoffers…one must have strong trust [i.e. bitachon] in Hashem…[and] one must be humble and patient, that even if Ha-Kadosh, baruch Hu, punishes him, he should accept it with love).
He says that when Yisrael accepted the Torah at Har Sinai, they did so only under compulsion and fear, when G-d, so-to-speak, held the mountain over their heads like a barrel. And it wasn't until the days of Mordechai and Ester that they accepted the Torah willingly and out of love. However, the Chatam Sofer writes: וגר מקבל הכל באהבה (But a ger accepts everything from love [right away]). He explains that this is the deeper meaning of Rut's concluding words to Naomi (Rut 1:17): כִּי הַמָּוֶת יַפְרִיד בֵּינִי וּבֵינֵךְ (For death will separate me and you). On the p'shat level, she is telling Naomi that she will stay a loyal Jew even unto death, and that nothing will stand in the way of her devotion to Hashem and to the Jewish People. However, the Chatam Sofer sees something much deeper that points to that which we have been explaining: אתם קבלתם מצד יראת מיתה שכפה הר אבל אני מקבל באהבה (You [native-born Jews] accepted [the Torah] through fear of death when He inverted the mountain [over you], but I accept [it] out of love). In other words, she wasn't saying that only 'death' will separate her from Naomi, but more importantly, that 'the fear of death' is what truly separates me from you. You native-Jews primarily act out of fear and have to work hard your entire life to reach the level of serving Hashem out of love, but gerim like me serve Hashem out of love from the very beginning.
That's why she was willing to walk barefoot from Moav to Eretz Yisrael. In fact, she was happy to do so—even if it meant that her feet would get cut up from the thorny shrubs and sharp rocks—it didn't matter to her because her heart burned with a fire of love to Hashem. Nothing else mattered but picking fallen stalks of grain in Boaz's field. That, for her, was the ultimate joy! No mesirut nefesh couldn't compare to the joy she would receive once she reached the Field of Boaz, the true Tzaddik of that generation. Such is the way of all true gerim—every step they take feels like walking barefoot from Moav to Eretz Yisrael. Every step is painful and difficult, but it doesn't matter. All they want is to pick stalks in the field of the Tzaddik.
From the dim cave of Lot’s daughter’s desperation to the radiant light of Rut’s loving commitment, the Torah traces a winding but deliberate road. Balak opposed Yisrael, and Eglon oppressed them, but through their line emerged Rut—who did not fight Yisrael but chose to join its destiny. The same spark that once clothed itself in fear and manipulation ultimately matured into humility, love, and messianic potential. And from her womb would rise David ha-Melech, the sweet singer of Yisrael, whose descendant will gather all the scattered sparks, returning us to our source.