The Self-Imposed Famine
Introduction: The Absurdity of Sin
The book of Proverbs is intensely practical, but it is not a book of bland moralisms for nice people. It is a collection of divine wisdom that functions like a set of spiritual diagnostic tools. These proverbs are scalpels, designed to cut through our layers of self-justification and expose the true condition of our hearts. And some of the most potent of these proverbs work by presenting us with a picture so absurd, so utterly irrational, that we are forced to laugh before we recognize ourselves in the caricature.
This is one such proverb. It paints a picture of sloth that is not just lazy, but comically, tragically pathetic. We live in an age that has made an idol of comfort and a virtue of ease. We have invented a thousand devices to reduce effort, and in so doing, we have cultivated a culture of slothfulness that would have staggered our ancestors. But we dress it up in respectable clothes. We call it "work-life balance," or "self-care," or "avoiding burnout."
The Holy Spirit, through Solomon, will have none of it. He does not analyze sloth with a complicated psychological profile. He simply shows us a picture of a man who is starving to death because the final twelve inches from the plate to his mouth is too much work. This is not just a warning against procrastination. This is a revelation of what sin does to the human will. Sin is not logical. It does not seek our best interest. It is a spiritual disease that makes a man an enemy to himself. It is a form of slow-motion suicide. This proverb is a divine cartoon, and the punchline is deadly serious.
The Text
The sluggard buries his hand in the dish,
But will not even bring it back to his mouth.
(Proverbs 19:24 LSB)
The Almost-There Achiever (v. 24a)
Let us consider the first part of this diagnosis.
"The sluggard buries his hand in the dish..." (Proverbs 19:24a)
The first thing to notice is that the sluggard is not completely inactive. He is not catatonic. He has made it to the table. He has seen the food. He has had the desire to eat, and he has acted on that desire to the point of getting his hand into the communal dish. He has made a start. And this, paradoxically, is what makes his condition so profoundly foolish.
This is not a picture of someone who refuses to begin. This is a picture of someone who refuses to finish. This is the man who buys the books but does not read them. This is the student who pays for the online course but never watches the videos. This is the person who fills the online shopping cart but never clicks "purchase." He has done the easy part, the part that feels like accomplishment without requiring the grit of completion.
The dish represents opportunity and provision. God, in His common grace, has set a feast before all men. The world is brimming with opportunities for fruitful labor, for dominion, for building and creating and serving. The sluggard is not in a barren wasteland with no options. His hand is literally in the dish. He is touching the provision. He is in contact with the very thing that could give him life and strength. But proximity to blessing is not the same as possession of it. Being in the church building is not the same as being in Christ. Having a Bible on your shelf is not the same as having the Word of God in your heart. The sluggard specializes in the motions of activity that stop just short of the goal. He is a professional beginner, a master of the unfinished project.
This is a profound warning against a certain kind of dead religiosity. It is possible to have your hand "in the dish" of Christian activity. You can be at the potluck, on the committee, in the front row. You can have all the external signs of engagement, but if you do not bring the substance of it back to your own soul, if you do not feed on Christ yourself, you are this sluggard. You will starve to death in the middle of the feast.
The Paralysis of the Will (v. 24b)
The second clause reveals the depth of the sluggard's spiritual sickness.
"...But will not even bring it back to his mouth." (Proverbs 19:24b)
Here is the heart of the matter. The final, life-giving action is deemed too costly. The energy required to lift his hand from the bowl to his lips is more than he is willing to expend. Think about the absurd internal calculation. The benefit is life itself, sustenance, the satisfaction of hunger. The cost is a minuscule physical effort. And in the sluggard's mind, the cost outweighs the benefit. He would rather starve than move his arm.
This is why sloth is not a mere personality quirk. It is a profound distortion of the will. It is a hatred of reality. It is a rebellion against the law of cause and effect that God has woven into the fabric of creation. God has ordained that effort leads to reward, that sowing leads to reaping, that diligence leads to fullness. The sluggard spits on this design. He wants the reward without the effort, the harvest without the sowing. And when he cannot have it, he gives up entirely, even when the required effort is laughably small.
This reveals the true nature of sloth. It is not the love of rest. God Himself rested, and He commands us to rest. True, godly rest is the satisfying result of completed work. Sloth is the desire for the feeling of rest without the accomplishment that makes it meaningful. It is a counterfeit rest, and like all counterfeits, it is worthless and destructive. It is the spiritual equivalent of an anesthetic that wears off, leaving the patient in more pain than before.
The sluggard is a slave. His master is his own lethargy. He has desires, but his laziness is a stronger desire. He is so enslaved to the love of ease that it has overcome even the most basic, primal instinct for self-preservation. This is the end-game of all sin. Sin promises freedom and pleasure, but it always delivers bondage and death. The man who will not bring his hand to his mouth is a perfect picture of a soul in the grip of a fatal addiction.
The Gospel for Sluggards
If this proverb is just a moralistic injunction to "try harder," then we are all without hope. For who among us has not left his hand in the dish? Who has not known the paralysis of will when faced with a necessary task? Who has not chosen the counterfeit rest of procrastination over the satisfaction of diligence? This proverb should drive us to despair of our own strength. In our fallen nature, we are all sluggards.
We were spiritually dead, unable to lift a finger to save ourselves. God set the feast of salvation before us in Jesus Christ, the Bread of Life. And we, like the sluggard, were sitting at the table, starving, unwilling and unable to reach for Him. We could not bring the bread to our mouths.
But this is where the glory of the gospel crashes in. While we were yet helpless, Christ died for the ungodly (Romans 5:6). He did not just put the food in the dish. He did not just move our hand for us. He became the food, and He fed us Himself. Regeneration is God reaching into our stupor, overcoming our paralyzed will, and giving us life. He does for us what we could not do for ourselves. He not only brings the food to our mouths, but He gives us a new heart that finds that food to be the most delicious thing in the universe.
The Christian life that follows is therefore not a grim duty to "not be lazy." It is a joyful, grateful response to grace. We are no longer sluggards, but sons. And we now work not for our salvation, but from it. The Holy Spirit energizes our will, so that we now desire to work, to build, to serve, to be diligent for the glory of the one who rescued us from our self-imposed famine.
Therefore, if you see the sluggard in the mirror, do not simply resolve to be more disciplined. First, despair of your own willpower. Then, look to Christ, who did all the work perfectly on your behalf. Feed on Him by faith. And you will find that the result is not a desire to sit still, but a Spirit-given energy to get up and work with all your might, not with a hand that gets stuck in the dish, but with two hands put firmly to the plow, and a heart that does not look back.