This morning, while preparing to leave, I briefly misplaced my eye glasses. I scanned my desktop, nowhere in sight. I checked my bedroom night stand, nothing. I checked my living room table. Clean. I checked my kitchen table, no glasses. I returned once more to my study and re-scanned my desktop. They were sitting on my desktop, all right. But, I had unkowingly placed them behind two books I was reading (stacked on top of each other).
We've all done this. You may not have misplaced your eye glasses, but what about your keys or your cell phone? You search in vain where you would expect to find them, only to discover that, in that one case, you left them in a different spot, or hidden just right to obscure your view.
You knew where to look--or, more precisely, where you usually place them. Your prior experiences gave you a sensible place to begin looking. Yet, they also kept drawing your attention back to those familiar places while your keys (or your phone) lay somewhere else.
Researchers, using photographs of everyday scenes and eye tracking, explored the ways our expectations guide how and where we search. The study's participants searched for objects in expected or unexpected locations. In kitchen photographs, a kettle appeared either on the stovetop or on the floor. When the study's objects appeared in their expected locations, participants found them faster. Older participants were more likely to continue examining locations in the photos where they expected to find the targeted objects, though the photos located them elsewhere.[1]
Sometimes, our prior experiences, and useful knowledge we accumulate through them, can delay our ability to discover. Knowing where kettles usually belong did not tell the study's participants where the kettle was located in a particular photograph. Recalling where our keys (or phones, or glasses) usually belong does not always tell us where we put them in a specific instance. Finding them requires that we allow the particular scene itself to redirect our attention.
Something similar may happen when we read a familiar Bible story.
We recognize its characters. We anticipate story lines we remember. We already have some understanding of what the story means. While our prior understanding and experience may help us notice important things. It may also prompt us to pay less attention to other details.
What we already know to look for
Many readers approach Ruth expecting a story of loyalty and devotion. Ruth’s commitment to Naomi is moving, and her conduct gives us much to appreciate. The story itself provides good grounds for these observations.
But suppose loyalty becomes the answer we carry into every reading. We notice Ruth refusing to leave Naomi. We notice her working to provide food. We admire her courage and faithfulness. We finish with a renewed appreciation for qualities we already expected to find.
We have read the story again; yet, we examined more of it?
Perhaps we have. Repeated reading can certainly deepen understanding. But repetition also gives us an opportunity to ask, "Where our familiar understanding has directed our attention?" "What have we followed closely?" "What have we passed over?" "Which part of the story has come to organize our understanding of the whole story?"
Readers have long approached Ruth with different interests: kindness, belonging, family responsibility, redemption, ancestry, providence. Those interests can overlap. Naming one does not necessarily explain how all the story’s parts fit together.
For now, consider just one relationship: how the ending responds to the beginning.
Follow the opening into the ending
Ruth begins with famine, migration, and deaths (1:1-5).
Naomi loses her husband and both sons. When she returns to Bethlehem, she describes herself as having gone away full and returned empty. She was no longer "pleasant" (Naomi means "pleasant). Rather, she had grown bitter (Mara). Her words express how she understands what has happened to her.
Ruth stands within that unfolding story. Her loyalty matters in the circumstances of Naomi’s loss.
Now read the closing birth scene in Ruth 4:13–17.
A child is born to Ruth and Boaz. Yet the women’s words turn toward Naomi. Ruth bore the child, but they understand this child's birth as Naomi's kinsman redeemer, provided by ADONAI. They speak of renewed life and provision in Naomi's old age. They describe Ruth’s love for her. Naomi, then, takes the child into her arms, and the neighboring women declare, "this child (a son) has been born to Naomi."
Why does the writer give Naomi so much attention here?
You do not need to answer immediately. First, notice the relationship between these scenes.
In the beginning, a household experiences devastating loss. Near the ending, birth, care, and a future emerge. Naomi’s words about being empty and bitter (Ruth 1:20-21) invite us to examine the closing scene more closely. The closing scene, in turn, invites us to reconsider what the opening set in motion.
Following that movement helps us consider Ruth’s loyalty within fuller setting. We can ask, "What did Ruth's faithful actions contribute to the lives and relationships threatened at the beginning?"
The book continues beyond this scene into the genealogy ending with David. That ending also needs a place in our understanding.
Taken together, these details give us the opportunity to continue following the story—to examine how its parts contribute to the whole.
A small practice for your next reading
Before reading Ruth again, write one sentence:
“When I think of Ruth, I usually think of…”
Your answer might name loyalty, redemption, providence, belonging, or something else. Recording it, though, makes your starting point visible.
Then reread the whole book while particularly noticing its opening and ending.
Keep three questions beside you:
- What circumstances does the beginning establish?
- What has changed by the ending, and what remains unresolved?
- How do the events between them contribute to that movement?
Write down the details you observe, noting their verse references. Give yourself time before converting them into a summary of Ruth’s message.
You might notice something that strengthens a familiar understanding you brought to the reading. You discover find that rereading prompts you to expand your earlier understanding. You might encounter a detail you cannot yet explain.
Each gives you a reason to return, to reread.
The aim is to allow the story to supply evidence that your understanding of its plot and message must account for.
Am I giving this particular story an opportunity to redirect my attention?
If you’d like to explore what sometimes makes attentive Bible reading difficult for you, I’ve created a brief Bible Reading Barriers Diagnostic. It offers personalized results and suggested practices to help you choose a place to begin.
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[1] Jordana S. Wynn, Jennifer D. Ryan, and Morris Moscovitch, “Effects of Prior Knowledge on Active Vision and Memory in Younger and Older Adults,” Journal of Experimental Psychology: General 149, no. 3 (2020): 518–529.