Most of what I’ve learned about fiction I’ve learned from the Bible.

That’s not to say I think the story about a big fish swallowing Jonah is a myth. If a resurrection is possible, what’s so tough about sustaining a guy in a fish’s belly for a couple of days?

What I’m saying is this: Moses, Luke, whoever wrote Ruth—these are the best storytellers in the world. The way they craft their narratives has taught me most of what I know about fiction. Consider some examples.

Use point-of-view to heighten tension. The Book of Ruth demonstrates what happens when a writer uses point-of-view to heighten tension. Remember the part in Ruth’s story when she goes down to the threshing floor to propose to Boaz? The author, under inspiration of the Spirit, writes, “[Boaz] awoke and behold! A woman was lying at his feet!” The reader already knows the woman is Ruth. Yet it’s so much better to say “a woman” than “Ruth,” because it helps readers see events from Boaz’s point of view. We can feel with him the surprise.

The same is true of Jacob’s wrestling match. We know his opponent is the Lord, but Jacob doesn’t. And the text describes events from Jacob’s point of view: “Then Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak” (Gen 32:24). Only later does our man Jake realize he’s gotten down and dirty with the Lord Himself and somehow prevailed.

Use limited point-of-view to capitalize on reader identification. As you’ve read the story of David and Bathsheba, have you ever wondered if she seduced him? Did she flirt? Bat her eyelashes? I suspect there’s a reason the author leaves us wondering. We’re supposed to see the story completely from David’s point of view. And David is 100 percent responsible for his choices, no matter what she is doing. (That means this: so are we.)

From the storyteller’s perspective, it doesn’t matter whether Bathsheba is a righteous woman taking a ritual bath or a little seductress flaunting her assets. Regardless of her actions, the king could and should have done better.

Use setting to communicate something greater than the place itself. Choose a setting that communicates something important. I’m not saying a writer should make the setting exotic, though that’s sometimes a good idea. I mean use the setting to make a statement.

Where is Jezebel when she kills the owner of the vineyard she covets? In Jezreel. Where is Jezebel years later when dogs snarf her up? In Jezreel. More than a decade later, we come back to the place where she committed her grandest injustice to watch her get what’s coming to her. And the fact that events end up where they do says something about God’s ultimate sovereignty, about His ability in the end to make all things right.

Where is Peter when he denies the Lord three times? By a fire. Where is Peter when Jesus gives him three chances to declare his love? Right—by a fire.

Where is Elisha when he raises the Shunnemite woman’s only son? At Shunem. Where is Jesus when he raises the widow of Nain’s only son? At Nain—right around the mountain from Shunem. The similarities in the miracles and locations are not lost on those present. The place shows them that a prophet better than Elisha has come.