The Economics of Eyelids Text: Proverbs 20:13
Introduction: The War on Work
We live in an age that has declared war on reality, and one of the primary fronts in that war is the assault on work. Our culture promotes a fantasy, a gnostic dream of effortless existence. It whispers the lie that the good life is a life free from labor, a life of perpetual leisure funded by the state, by luck, or by some other abstract means. This is the gospel of the sluggard, the creed of the entitled. It is a rebellion against the created order, a deep-seated refusal to obey the first commission God ever gave to mankind: to be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it. That word, subdue, implies effort. It implies sweat. It implies work.
The book of Proverbs is a bucket of cold, clear water thrown on the face of such foolishness. It is relentlessly, gloriously, and unapologetically practical. It does not deal in utopian fantasies; it deals in the hard-nosed realities of a world governed by a wise and just God. In this world, actions have consequences. Sowing and reaping is not just an agricultural principle; it is the iron law of the cosmos, woven into the fabric of reality by the Creator Himself. And nowhere is this law more evident than in the realm of economics and labor.
The sluggard is a recurring character in Proverbs, and he is not presented as a sympathetic victim of circumstance. He is a fool. He is a moral failure. His poverty is not an unfortunate accident; it is a self-inflicted wound. He is the author of his own demise. The modern world wants to pathologize this condition, to find a syndrome for it, to create a victim class out of it. But the Word of God cuts through all that therapeutic fog. It tells us that the problem is not in our glands or our charts; the problem is in our hearts. Specifically, it is a love affair with ease. It is idolatry, where the idol is a pillow.
This verse before us is a compact dose of divine realism. It is a two-part prescription for prosperity, grounded not in complex economic theory, but in basic, fundamental character. It addresses our affections, what we love, and our attention, what we look at. It is a call to wake up, both literally and metaphorically, and to engage with the world as God made it, a world brimming with potential for those with eyes to see and hands to work.
The Text
Do not love sleep, lest you become poor;
Open your eyes, and you will be satisfied with food.
(Proverbs 20:13 LSB)
The Lethal Love Affair (v. 13a)
The first clause gets right to the heart of the matter, addressing not just an action, but an affection.
"Do not love sleep, lest you become poor;" (Proverbs 20:13a)
The command is not "do not sleep." God is the one who gives His beloved sleep (Psalm 127:2). Rest is a divine institution, a gift, and a command. The Sabbath principle is woven into the creation week itself. The issue here is not the use of sleep, but the love of it. It is a matter of disordered affections. When a gift from God, like rest, is elevated to the level of a god, it becomes a destructive idol. The sluggard does not just sleep; he loves sleep. He worships at the altar of the mattress. His bed is his shrine.
This love of sleep is a profound spiritual condition. It is an aversion to the dominion mandate. God created man to work, to build, to cultivate, to create. To love sleep is to hate this calling. It is a desire to retreat from the world of responsibility, to shirk the duties that God has assigned. It is a form of escapism, a refusal to engage with the world on God's terms. The sluggard wants the fruit of the garden without the tilling and the keeping. He wants the harvest without the labor of sowing.
And the consequence is stated with brutal clarity: "lest you become poor." This is not a threat of arbitrary punishment from God. It is a statement of cause and effect. It is like saying, "Do not love jumping off cliffs, lest you fall." Poverty, in this context, is the natural, organic, and inevitable result of sloth. The world is not a self-replenishing vending machine. It yields its fruit to the diligent. The sluggard's field, as Proverbs 24 tells us, becomes overgrown with thorns and nettles. His wall breaks down. His world falls apart through sheer neglect.
This poverty is not just financial. The man who loves sleep becomes poor in every sense. He is poor in character, poor in reputation, poor in relationships, and poor in spirit. His world shrinks to the size of his bed. He becomes a burden to others and a disappointment to himself. This is the opposite of the abundant life. It is a life of creeping decay, a slow surrender to the tohu wa-bohu that God pushed back in creation. Laziness is an attempt to un-create God's world, starting with oneself.
The Vision for Provision (v. 13b)
The second clause provides the positive counterpart, the antidote to the love of sleep.
"Open your eyes, and you will be satisfied with food." (Proverbs 20:13b LSB)
The command is simple: "Open your eyes." This is more than just the physical act of waking up. It is a command to be alert, to be aware, to be observant. The world God has made is full of opportunities, but they are not for the drowsy. The diligent man sees the field that needs planting. He sees the wall that needs mending. He sees the opportunity for trade. He sees the need of his neighbor that he can meet. His eyes are open to reality, to the tasks at hand, to the potential that lies dormant in the created order, waiting for a faithful hand to unlock it.
To "open your eyes" is to live in a state of active engagement with the world. The sluggard's eyes are closed, not just in sleep, but in his waking hours. He does not see what needs to be done. He is willfully blind. When confronted with a task, he sees only obstacles. "The sluggard says, 'There is a lion in the road! A lion is in the open square!'" (Proverbs 26:13). His imagination is employed only to invent excuses for his inaction. But the diligent man opens his eyes and sees not a lion, but an opportunity. He sees a duty to be done, a project to be completed, a world to be built.
And the promise is just as clear as the warning: "and you will be satisfied with food." Literally, you will have plenty of bread. This is the covenantal blessing for faithfulness in labor. God has designed the world to reward diligence. This is not the "health and wealth" gospel of charlatans. It is the simple, earthy wisdom of Scripture. God provides, yes, but He almost always provides through means. And the primary means He has ordained for our provision is our own diligent labor. He provides the seed, the soil, and the rain, but He expects us to do the plowing and the planting.
Satisfaction is the result. The bread earned by the sweat of one's brow is sweet. There is a deep, godly contentment that comes from a day's work faithfully done. The sluggard craves, but his soul gets nothing. The diligent man works, and his soul is made rich (Proverbs 13:4). This satisfaction is not just a full belly; it is the quiet joy of knowing you have fulfilled your calling, that you have been a good steward of the time and talents God has given you, and that you have participated with God in the glorious work of subduing the earth.
Waking Up to the Gospel
As with all of Proverbs, we must read this through a Christological lens. This verse is not simply good advice for getting ahead in the world. It is a pointer to a deeper spiritual reality. The ultimate poverty is not a lack of bread; it is a lack of Christ. And the ultimate sleep is the spiritual stupor of sin.
The unregenerate man is fast asleep in his trespasses and sins (Ephesians 2:1). He loves the darkness. His eyes are closed to the glory of God and the reality of his own desperate condition. He is spiritually destitute, impoverished, and starving. He may be a billionaire, but if he is without Christ, he is the poorest of men.
The call of the gospel is the ultimate command to "open your eyes." It is the great awakening. "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you" (Ephesians 5:14). When the Holy Spirit works regeneration in our hearts, He opens our eyes. For the first time, we see our sin for what it is. For the first time, we see Christ for who He is: the Bread of Life, the only one who can satisfy the deep hunger of our souls.
When our eyes are opened to the gospel, we are satisfied with the ultimate food. Jesus said, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst" (John 6:35). This is the satisfaction that cannot be earned by our work, but is received by faith alone. It is the provision that comes from the finished work of Christ on the cross.
But this grace does not lead to laziness. It does the opposite. Once our eyes have been opened and our souls have been satisfied in Christ, we are then freed and motivated to work with a new diligence. We no longer work to justify ourselves, or out of a frantic fear of poverty. We work out of gratitude. We work as unto the Lord. We open our eyes each morning, not just to the tasks of the day, but to the opportunities for faithfulness, for service, for building for the Kingdom of our God. We do not love sleep, because we love the One who for our sake endured the cross, and we are eager to get on with the glorious business He has given us to do in His world.