The Pious Vandal Text: Proverbs 28:24
Introduction: The Sanctity of the Small
We live in an age that has lost all sense of proportion. Our culture is obsessed with grand, abstract sins. We hear endless chatter about systemic injustices, institutional evils, and global crises. And while such things are not imaginary, this constant focus on the sins of "the system" has a peculiar and convenient side effect. It allows the individual sinner to feel quite virtuous while his own backyard is a riot of weeds. It allows a man to march for justice on Saturday and despise his father on Sunday. It allows him to have all the right opinions about global economics while quietly raiding his mother's retirement account.
The book of Proverbs is a great corrective to this kind of thinking. It brings the fear of the Lord down from the ethereal heights of philosophy and plants it firmly in the soil of our kitchens, our workshops, and our family relationships. It teaches us that holiness is not demonstrated in the spectacular, but in the mundane. Piety is not first and foremost about having the correct hot take on the latest outrage; it is about honoring your father and your mother. And the Bible's definition of honor is robust and earthy. It means respect, yes, but it also means provision, care, and a fierce loyalty to their good. It certainly means you don't steal from them.
This proverb addresses a sin that is both common and commonly dismissed. It is a sin that cloaks itself in the language of entitlement and familiarity. It is the sin of treating your parents' property as your own, of taking what has not been given, and then patting your conscience on the head and telling it to be quiet. But God does not grade on a curve, and He does not accept our self-serving rationalizations. He calls this seemingly "internal" family matter what it is: a companionship with destruction.
The Text
He who robs his father or his mother
And says, “It is not a transgression,"
Is the companion of a man who destroys.
(Proverbs 28:24 LSB)
A Theft Most Foul (v. 24a)
The first clause sets the scene with a shocking act:
"He who robs his father or his mother..." (Proverbs 28:24a)
The word is "robs." This is not "borrows without asking." It is not "takes an advance on the inheritance." The Holy Spirit uses a word that denotes violence, plunder, and theft. The Fifth Commandment tells us to honor our father and mother. The Eighth Commandment tells us not to steal. The son or daughter described here is a two-time loser. This is a violation of a foundational command, dressed up in casual domesticity.
How does this happen? It can be overt, like a son who sells his father's tools for drug money. But it is more often subtle. It is the daughter who "borrows" her mother's jewelry and never returns it. It is the son who uses the family car and runs it into the ground without a thought for its maintenance because, after all, "Dad will pay for it." It is the adult child living at home who consumes resources, pays no rent, and contributes nothing, all while feeling put upon. It is the manipulation of an aging parent to change a will. It is taking what is theirs, by force or by fraud, and using it for yourself.
This sin is particularly heinous because it is a betrayal of the deepest trust. Your parents are the human source of your life. Under God, you owe them everything. To turn and prey upon the ones who nurtured you is a profound perversion. It is to bite the hand that fed you, and not just fed you, but brought you into the world. This is not simply breaking a rule; it is violating a sacred, created reality. It is an act of profound ingratitude, not just to the parents, but to the God who gave them to you.
The Anesthetized Conscience (v. 24b)
The second clause reveals the psychological machinery that makes the first part possible.
"And says, 'It is not a transgression...'" (Proverbs 28:24b LSB)
Here is the heart of the matter. Sin, in order to flourish, must always be accompanied by a lie. No one can continue in sin with a clear-eyed view of what they are doing. The conscience must be drugged, silenced, or re-educated. And in this case, the lie is a masterpiece of self-deception. "It is not a transgression."
What are the arguments this internal lawyer makes? "It will all be mine someday anyway, so what's the difference?" This is the logic of the Prodigal Son, who demanded his inheritance as though his father were already dead. He treated his father as a means to an end, a walking bank account. Another argument is, "They have plenty. They won't even miss it." This is the logic of covetousness, which always sees what others have as excessive and what I have as insufficient. Or perhaps, "They owe it to me. After the childhood I had..." This turns the sin of theft into a twisted form of justice, with the sinner appointing himself judge, jury, and beneficiary.
To say, "It is not a transgression," is to set yourself up as the definer of reality. It is to take God's dictionary and cross out His definitions, writing your own in the margins. God says "theft." You say "advance." God says "dishonor." You say "entitlement." This is the primordial sin of the Garden. "Did God really say?" The serpent's question still echoes in the hearts of rebellious children. And when you decide that you are the one who determines what is and is not a transgression, you have made yourself a god. A petty, pathetic, pilfering god, but a god nonetheless in your own mind.
Partners in Crime (v. 24c)
The final clause delivers the shocking verdict. God does not see this as a minor family squabble. He sees it as an alliance with the forces of chaos and ruin.
"Is the companion of a man who destroys." (Proverbs 28:24c LSB)
A "man who destroys" is a vandal, a revolutionary, an anarchist, a terrorist. He is a man who tears things down. He is a sower of chaos. Think of the man who breaks windows during a riot, or the arsonist who burns down a forest for kicks. He is a force of entropy and ruin. And God says that the son who steals the gas money from his dad's wallet is his soul-brother. He is his companion, his comrade, his partner.
Why is the judgment so severe? Because the family is the foundational building block of all society. A healthy society is nothing more than a collection of healthy families. When you attack the covenantal bonds of the family, you are not just committing a private sin. You are taking a sledgehammer to the foundation of the entire social order. The man who robs his parents is practicing on a small scale what the revolutionary wants to do on a grand scale. Both are driven by envy. Both are animated by a spirit of destruction. Both refuse to honor what has been built by others. Both want the fruit without the labor, the inheritance without the patience, the benefits without the responsibility.
The son who rationalizes his theft is a destroyer because he is destroying the peace of his home. He is destroying the trust between parent and child. He is destroying his own character, hollowing it out with lies and ingratitude. And in doing so, he becomes a friend to all who destroy. He might wear a collared shirt instead of a black mask, but in the spiritual realm, he and the vandal are walking arm-in-arm.
Conclusion: The Restoring Son
This proverb, like all of Scripture, holds up a mirror. And when we look into it, we all see a reflection we don't like. Who among us has perfectly honored our parents? Who has never had a thought of entitlement? Who has never taken for granted the immense sacrifice that brought us into the world and raised us? In our sin, we are all companions of the destroyer. Our rebellion against our heavenly Father makes us partners in the deconstruction of His good world.
But there is another Son. There is a Son who, though He was God, did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped, to be seized, to be stolen (Philippians 2:6). He did not rob His Father. Instead, He perfectly honored His Father, submitting His own will to His Father's in all things, even to the point of death on a cross.
Jesus Christ is the only Son who has ever perfectly honored His Father. And on the cross, He took upon Himself the guilt of every thankless, rebellious, thieving child. He paid the debt for our companionship with destroyers. He did this so that, through faith in Him, we might be adopted into His family and become sons and daughters who honor our Father in heaven.
The gospel does not just forgive this sin; it severs our companionship with the destroyer. It kills the root of entitlement and plants a new root of gratitude. It transforms us from takers into givers. It teaches us how to truly honor our earthly parents as an overflow of our love for our heavenly Father. If this proverb has exposed you, do not despair. Confess your sin, both to God and to your parents. Make restitution where you must. And then look to the perfect Son, who does not destroy, but who builds His church, and who makes all things new.