The Accountant's Supper: The Poison of a Selfish Host Text: Proverbs 23:6-8
Introduction: The War in Your Gut
We live in an age that has declared war on definitions. We are told that words can mean whatever we want them to mean, that hospitality is simply being "nice," and that a man's inner thoughts are his own private business, entirely disconnected from his outward actions. If a man says, "welcome," then he is welcoming. If he offers you a seat at his table, then you are his guest. Our therapeutic culture demands that we take everything at face value, especially if that face is smiling. To do otherwise, to look deeper, is to be cynical, judgmental, and uncharitable.
But the book of Proverbs is not a therapeutic document. It is a training manual for spiritual warfare, and one of the front lines of that war is the dinner table. The Bible takes meals with deadly seriousness. A shared meal is a covenantal act. It is a declaration of peace, fellowship, and union. From the Passover lamb to the Lord's Supper, God has wired communion into the very act of eating together. The breaking of bread is meant to be the breaking down of walls.
It is for this very reason that the Devil, the great counterfeiter, loves to corrupt the table. He wants to turn covenant into commerce. He wants to transform a place of fellowship into a place of transaction. He wants you to think you are sharing a meal when in fact you are being sized up, used, and manipulated. He wants you to mistake the bread of a selfish man for the bread of life. And so the Holy Spirit, through Solomon, gives us this blunt, practical, and frankly, life-saving piece of wisdom. We are commanded to be discerning, not just about what we eat, but with whom we eat. This passage is a divine permission slip to read the fine print on the invitation. It teaches us that some meals are poison, not because of the food, but because of the host. And if you eat this meal, your own body will eventually join the protest.
The Text
Do not eat the bread of a selfish man,
And do not desire his delicacies;
For as he calculates in his soul, so he is.
“Eat and drink!” he says to you,
But his heart is not with you.
You will vomit up the morsel you have eaten,
And you will corrupt your pleasant words.
(Proverbs 23:6-8 LSB)
The Prohibition and the Bait (v. 6)
We begin with the straightforward command:
"Do not eat the bread of a selfish man, And do not desire his delicacies." (Proverbs 23:6)
The prohibition is clear: avoid the table of a selfish man. The Hebrew for "selfish man" is literally a man with an "evil eye." This isn't about someone who is merely a bit tight with his money. This is a man whose entire perspective, his "eye," is diseased. He sees the world, and everyone in it, in terms of what he can get. He is a spiritual black hole. His gravity pulls everything toward himself. He does not give; he invests. He does not host; he entraps.
Notice the two parts of the command. First, "do not eat his bread." This is the act. Don't sit down. Don't participate in the charade of fellowship. But the second command is deeper: "do not desire his delicacies." This is the attitude. It is possible to obey the first part externally while disobeying the second part internally. You might decline the invitation, but spend the rest of the evening thinking about the roast beef and fine wine you missed out on. God is after our hearts. He wants us to see the delicacies for what they are: bait. The selfish man doesn't offer you a meal because he likes you. He offers you a meal because he wants something from you, and his fancy food is the cheese in the mousetrap.
This is a warning against being bought. The world is full of men with evil eyes who want to purchase your loyalty, your silence, or your integrity with a fine meal and expensive gifts. They want to entangle you in a web of obligation. By desiring the delicacies, you show that your heart is for sale. Wisdom, therefore, is learning to be content with a dinner of herbs where love is, rather than a fattened ox where there is calculation and contempt (Prov. 15:17).
The Man's True Nature (v. 7)
Verse 7 gives us the reason for the prohibition. It pulls back the curtain and shows us the man's internal reality.
"For as he calculates in his soul, so he is. 'Eat and drink!' he says to you, But his heart is not with you." (Proverbs 23:7)
This is one of the most foundational statements on human nature in all of Scripture. "As he calculates in his soul, so he is." The older translation, "As he thinketh in his heart," is also good. The point is that the real man is the inner man. A man is not what he says. A man is not what he appears to be. A man is what he is in the secret, internal calculus of his soul. This man is an accountant at heart. While you are enjoying the food, he is running a ledger in his head. He is calculating the cost of the meal against the potential return on his investment, which is you.
This verse is a direct assault on all forms of hypocrisy. The selfish man has mastered the art of the divided heart. His words are completely detached from his intentions. He says, "Eat and drink!" The words are warm, generous, hospitable. But they are a lie. They are a tool. They are the verbal equivalent of his delicacies, designed to put you at ease and lower your guard. "But his heart is not with you." This is the terrifying truth. You are at his table, but you are not in his heart. There is no fellowship. There is no covenant. You are a pawn in his game, a cog in his machine. He is not with you; he is against you, because his ultimate loyalty is to himself.
This is why discernment is so crucial. The wise man learns to listen not just to a man's words, but to the spirit behind the words. He learns to test the spirits. He understands that a man's true worldview is not what he professes on Sunday, but what he calculates in his soul on Monday. And when there is a contradiction between the words and the heart, the heart is always the truth-teller.
The Inevitable Regret (v. 8)
Verse 8 describes the bitter, physical, and relational consequences of ignoring this wisdom.
"You will vomit up the morsel you have eaten, And you will corrupt your pleasant words." (Proverbs 23:8)
The result of this counterfeit communion is sickness. "You will vomit up the morsel you have eaten." This is a wonderfully graphic image. The body itself rebels against the lie. Your own stomach will turn on you. The meal that was supposed to be a delight becomes a source of revulsion. This is what happens when you finally realize you've been had. The moment the selfish man's true motives become clear, the moment he calls in the favor you didn't know you owed, the taste of that fine meal turns to ash in your mouth. The memory itself becomes nauseating.
This is not just a physical reaction; it is a spiritual reality. Fellowship with darkness produces a deep-seated spiritual nausea. You cannot have true communion with a man whose heart is not with you, and if you try, your own soul will reject it like a body rejects a foreign object.
But it gets worse. Not only do you lose the meal, "you will corrupt your pleasant words." This means you will waste your compliments. All the kind things you said, the "thank yous," the praise for his home, the flattery about his success, it all becomes corrupted. It was wasted breath. You were offering genuine (or at least polite) words of fellowship, but you were speaking them into a void. You were trying to build a bridge of friendship, while he was simply building a case for your future obligation. Your pleasant words were an attempt at communion; his were part of the calculation. And when you realize this, you feel like a fool. You have not only been used, but you have been complicit in your own deception by playing the part of the grateful guest.
The True Host and the True Meal
This proverb forces us to ask a fundamental question: at whose table are we sitting? We are all invited to a meal. The world, with its evil eye, offers us its delicacies. It says, "Eat and drink! Pursue wealth, chase pleasure, build your own kingdom." It offers us the bait of temporal satisfaction. But its heart is not with us. It is a liar and a murderer from the beginning. As it calculates in its soul, so it is. It wants to consume us. And if we accept that invitation, we will find ourselves spiritually sick, vomiting up the empty pleasures we have consumed, and realizing that all our efforts to make peace with the world have been a waste.
But there is another invitation. There is another Host who has prepared a table. This Host is not a selfish man, but the Son of Man, who came not to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45). His invitation is not a transaction; it is a covenant sealed in His own blood.
When Jesus says, "Take, eat; this is My body," His heart is entirely with us. There is no calculation in His soul, only love. There is no ulterior motive, only grace. He is not trying to get something from us; He is giving everything to us. The delicacies He offers are not the fleeting pleasures of this world, but the eternal realities of forgiveness, righteousness, and everlasting life. This is the meal that does not turn to ash in our mouths. This is the bread that does not cause our souls to vomit. This is the wine of the new covenant that brings joy and life, not regret.
The wisdom of this proverb, then, is ultimately a gospel wisdom. It teaches us to have such a deep and abiding satisfaction at the Lord's Table that we lose all desire for the delicacies of the selfish. When we are truly filled with the bread of life, the bait of the world loses its appeal. We learn to discern the evil eye of the world because our own eyes have been fixed on the gracious eyes of our Savior. He is the true host, His table is the true fellowship, and His meal is the only one that nourishes to eternal life. So come, eat and drink, for His heart is truly with you.