The Economics of Appetite Text: Proverbs 27:7
Introduction: The Fullness of the Affluent Age
We live in a culture that is drowning in honey. We are glutted, stuffed, and satiated with every imaginable sweetness. We have more entertainment, more food, more information, more material goods, and more opportunities for diversion than any people in the history of the world. Our souls are full. We are the satisfied soul described in this proverb, and as a result, we have learned to trample the honeycomb. We have become connoisseurs of contempt, experts in ennui. The sweetest gifts of God, the glorious blessings of His common grace and His special grace, are treated like last year's gadgets. We are bored with the gospel, tired of the psalms, and indifferent to the staggering privilege of gathering together as the people of God.
The book of Proverbs is intensely practical. It does not float in the ethereal realm of abstract theology; it walks on the ground and tells you how the world actually works. And this proverb gives us a fundamental law of spiritual economics. It is the law of appetite. It explains why a starving man will find a stale crust of bread a delicacy, while a man who has just finished a seven course meal will despise the most exquisite dessert. And it explains why our spiritually obese and bloated generation finds the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ to be an unappetizing bore.
This proverb is a diagnostic tool. It helps us understand our spiritual condition. Are you hungry? Or are you full? The answer to that question will determine how you receive the Word of God, how you approach worship, and how you live your Christian life. This is a matter of spiritual life and death, because the one who is full of himself and the world has no room for Christ. But the one who is truly hungry, who knows his own desperate need, will find even the bitterest truths of the gospel to be sweet.
The Text
A satisfied soul tramples the honeycomb,
But to a hungry soul any bitter thing is sweet.
(Proverbs 27:7 LSB)
The Cushioned Contempt of the Satisfied (v. 7a)
The first clause sets the scene for us in our own time.
"A satisfied soul tramples the honeycomb," (Proverbs 27:7a)
The "soul" here is the Hebrew nephesh. It means the entire person, the seat of appetite and desire. A satisfied soul is one who is full, sated, stuffed to the gills. And what does this person do? He loathes, he despises, he tramples underfoot the honeycomb. In the ancient world, honey was the pinnacle of natural sweetness. It was a luxury, a delight, a gift (Proverbs 24:13). To trample the honeycomb is an act of supreme, arrogant contempt. It is to take a precious gift and treat it like garbage.
This is a picture of Israel in the wilderness. God rained down bread from heaven, manna, the food of angels. It was a daily miracle, a perfect provision. And how did they respond? "And the people spoke against God and against Moses, 'Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we loathe this worthless food'" (Numbers 21:5). They were full, and so they trampled the honeycomb of God's provision. They remembered the fish and cucumbers of Egypt, and despised the bread of heaven.
This is the spiritual state of the modern West, and tragically, much of the modern church. We are full of ourselves. We are full of our accomplishments, our entertainment, our political opinions, our therapeutic platitudes. And because our souls are stuffed with this junk food, we have no appetite for the real feast. The gospel is the honeycomb. The doctrines of grace are the honeycomb. The means of grace, the preaching of the Word, the fellowship of the saints, the Lord's Supper, these are all honeycomb. And we yawn. We check our phones during the sermon. We complain that the worship service was not emotionally satisfying enough. We trample the honeycomb because we are full of other things.
This fullness creates a spiritual stupor. A man with a full belly wants to sleep. A soul that is full of the world is spiritually drowsy, unable to perceive the glory and sweetness of what God has offered. This is the condition of the church in Laodicea: "For you say, I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing, and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked" (Revelation 3:17). They were satisfied souls, and they were spiritually destitute.
The Desperate Delight of the Hungry (v. 7b)
The second clause presents the stark contrast, which is the key to all true spiritual life.
"But to a hungry soul any bitter thing is sweet." (Proverbs 27:7b LSB)
The hungry soul is the one who knows his need. He is not playing games. He is not posturing. He is empty, and he knows it. This is the man Jesus describes in the first beatitude: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3). To be poor in spirit is to be a hungry soul. It is to know that you bring nothing to the table. You are a spiritual bankrupt, a beggar.
And what is the result of this hunger? To this man, "any bitter thing is sweet." This is a remarkable statement. It means that the desperate man does not quibble over the packaging. He is not a picky eater. This is the Prodigal Son in the pigsty. He was so hungry that he would have gladly filled his stomach with the pods the pigs were eating (Luke 15:16). That slop would have tasted sweet to him because he was starving. His hunger brought him to his senses.
This is how a sinner comes to Christ. The gospel has bitter elements to the proud man. The doctrine of sin is bitter. The demand for repentance is bitter. The call to die to yourself is bitter. The exclusivity of Christ is bitter. The doctrine of God's sovereign wrath is bitter. The world chokes on these things. The satisfied soul says, "That's offensive. That's narrow minded. That's not very nice."
But to the hungry soul, the man who has been crushed by the law and sees his own sin for what it is, these bitter truths are the sweetest news he has ever heard. The news that he is a wretched sinner is sweet, because it means the diagnosis is true, and there might be a cure. The news that he must repent and die is sweet, because he hates the life he has been living. The news that Jesus is the only way is sweet, because it means there is a way. The news that God is holy and hates sin is sweet, because it means that the cross was not play-acting, but a real rescue from a real and terrible danger. The law is a bitter schoolmaster, but it leads us to the sweetness of Christ.
Cultivating a Holy Hunger
This proverb, then, forces a question upon us. How do we cultivate this blessed hunger? How do we avoid becoming the satisfied soul who tramples the honeycomb? The answer is not to simply try harder to appreciate the things of God. The answer is to recognize what is filling us up and to get rid of it.
We must recognize that we are in a war of appetites. The world, the flesh, and the devil are constantly trying to stuff our souls with their insipid, sugary junk. They want to fill us with pride, with lust, with envy, with bitterness, with endless digital distractions. If you are feasting on these things all week, it is no wonder that the bread of life tastes like cardboard to you on Sunday morning.
Cultivating hunger means fasting. I mean this both literally and metaphorically. We must intentionally empty ourselves of the world's dainties so that we can develop an appetite for God's feast. Fast from media. Fast from complaining. Fast from self justification. This is what repentance is. It is turning away from the pigsty of the world and turning back toward the Father's house, where even the hired servants have more than enough bread.
And we must feed on what God provides. An appetite is trained. The more you taste the goodness of God's Word, the more you will want it. "O taste and see that the LORD is good" (Psalm 34:8). "Like newborn babies, long for the pure milk of the word, so that by it you may grow in respect to salvation" (1 Peter 2:2). Hunger comes from tasting. The man who has never tasted the honeycomb does not know what he is missing. But the man who has tasted the true sweetness of Christ will find that everything else is bitter by comparison.
The Gospel is Sweet and Bitter
Ultimately, this proverb points us to the cross of Jesus Christ. The cross is the place where the bitterest thing in the universe, the wrath of God against sin, was poured out. And it is the place where the sweetest thing in the universe, the love of God for sinners, was displayed.
For Jesus, the cross was unmitigated bitterness. He was the truly hungry and thirsty soul on that cross, and He was given vinegar to drink. He drank the cup of God's wrath to the dregs so that we would not have to. He endured the ultimate bitterness so that we could taste the ultimate sweetness.
For us, who are the hungry, the cross is sweetness itself. It is the honeycomb of our salvation. But we only come to know that sweetness when we are first willing to taste the bitterness of our own sin. You cannot have a sweet Christ without a bitter repentance. You cannot be saved from a danger you refuse to acknowledge.
The Lord's Table is a weekly meal for hungry people. It is not for the satisfied. It is for those who know they are sinners, who are hungry for righteousness, and who have no hope but in the finished work of Jesus Christ. Here, we taste and see that the Lord is good. Here, we are reminded that because He drank the bitter cup, we are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb. And for the soul that is truly hungry, there is no sweeter news in all the world.