A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest!
Just before this verse, the lazy man is sent to the ant to learn. What he asks for sounds harmless — a little more sleep, a little more rest — yet the next verse says it ends in ruin.
One writer sets these small delays against the working life God gave man after the fall.
The beginning of this chapter states two great principles of life. Do not commit yourself for the future. Do not be lazy and idle in the present. God has set us in this place, and humble diligence is a duty now — His ordinance since the fall. "By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread." "If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat."
What shames the sluggard is not that the ant stores up for winter.
The sluggard has sunk so low that Jehovah tells him to learn from the tiny "ant" as teacher enough for him... We hear nothing about hoarding a store for winter — in fact, like many creatures, ants are mostly dormant then. But they never stop working. They keep good order, and they even care for others through summer and harvest, while they are still free to work. All of this may well shame the self-indulgent sleeper.
The ant also works with nobody standing over her.
The ant is a marvellous little creature... They march and work together. They have their own wars, and they feed their sick. They do all of it without a chief, an overseer, or a ruler. Yet man, with higher intelligence and a higher work to do, can be a sluggard.
Rest itself is not the problem. The warning is about a life ruled by it, and about the things we sleep through.
Of course, we need sleep and rest. But it is a different matter when this marks our whole life. This is especially true when we sleep about spiritual things, and so feel nothing of serious dangers. It was "while men were sleeping" that the enemy sowed weeds among the wheat (Matt. 13:25).
The same sleep shows itself when Christians hand their own work to someone else.
The great mass of Christian men and women seek to escape their responsibility. They believe in substitution — letting someone else do it — in almost every line of Christian activity... This kind of substitution comes out of the spiritual sluggishness described in Proverbs 6:10–11.
The damage comes in doses so small that no single one seems worth arguing about. One writer takes us into a young Christian's room.
I went to the house of young Mr Slothful. His Bible lay buried under a pile of other books, with thick dust over the back and sides of it. His regular habits of daily prayer were quite broken down... Young Mr Slothful had been indulging in a little more sleep in the mornings. He had slackened off a little with the usual duties, and allowed himself a little more ease in everything. And now spiritual poverty has come on him like a robber... First he left off the regular habit just once. Then he did the same thing again, and then again, and each time the gap between was shorter. Now the well-ordered Christian life has become a disorderly wilderness of weeds.
Such sleep also grows deeper with time.
Slothfulness casts into a deep sleep... Notice that it is a deep sleep — so deep, sadly, that ordinary means fail to wake them.
The next verse names two thieves.
Poverty has come "like a prowler." He comes as secretly as he can, to rob us of the wealth God gave us at the start. Or it comes "like an armed man," who steals everything he can by force.
The quote follows an older translation here; the ESV reads "like a robber, and want like an armed man."
- Little. The lazy man asks in small doses — a little sleep, a little more ease. Each one looks too small to argue with.
- Learn. God answers the small excuse with a smaller teacher. The ant works with no chief, no overseer and no ruler, and works while the season lasts.
- Loss. The bill comes in full. Poverty arrives in secret like a robber, and want like an armed man who takes everything.
- Late. The sleep grows so deep that ordinary means no longer wake the sleeper. By then the ordered Christian life is a wilderness of weeds.
- Labour. The remedy is the duty God gave us after the fall. Work humbly now, and carry your own responsibility instead of handing it to someone else.
So shall thy poverty come as a roving plunderer, and thy penury as an armed man.
The verse closes the picture of the sluggard: after the ant, after the invitation to a little more sleep, comes the bill. Poverty does not seep in slowly. It arrives — and the picture asks why idleness, which feels harmless, ends in loss.
What makes the ant an argument is that nobody makes her work.
The sluggard is one given up to laziness. He might well consider the object lesson of the ant, a creature so small, yet a willing worker. Without captain, overseer or ruler, she works hard through the summer to provide food. She gathers it in at harvest to meet her needs for the winter. God made her that way as an object lesson for anyone who wants to live in idleness.
The verse gives poverty two faces. Neither is chosen; both arrive. One writer reads them together as theft and helplessness: you lose your living, and you are left with nothing to defend yourself.
only a little slumber — that is, hands that stop working — will in the end bring poverty. It comes like a prowler who steals your living, or like an armed man who strips you of all defense.
Another writer notes that summer and harvest are the time when work is still possible. Afterward comes a visitor no one can refuse.
Their tireless work, their good order, and even their care for others in the summer and harvest, while they can still be active, may well shame the self-indulgent sleeper... on the listless and lazy, poverty comes like a tramp or an armed man who will not take no for an answer.
The sluggard is not accused of anything dramatic. That is the sting of the picture.
The careless man sleeps his life away: "a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep." He may be innocent of strong drink, or of sensual pleasure, or of wasteful company. His laziness ensures his ruin.
Nothing here describes a decision to fail. Small concessions, repeated, do the work. One writer shows how that looks in an ordinary home.
I went to the house of young Mr. Slothful, and his Bible lay hidden under a pile of other books. Thick dust covered its back and sides, and his regular habits of daily prayer had quite broken down... He had been taking a little more sleep in the mornings, letting the usual duties slide a little, giving himself a little more ease in everything. And now spiritual poverty has come upon him like a robber... First he left off the regular habit just once. Then he did it again, and again, and the gap between each time grew shorter — until the well-ordered Christian life has become a disorderly wilderness of evil weeds.
Commentators apply the verse beyond money. One names the inward signs of spiritual sloth. Knowing you are saved, he warns, is no shield against its losses.
when we fail to enjoy the love of God to us in Christ, when Christ Himself is no longer the Object and Hope of our hearts, when meditation on the word of God becomes tiresome, and private prayer declines... we begin to be slothful Christians... Some think, "I know I am saved," "I know I have eternal life," and the like. But do we weigh, as we should, that if our life and walk grieve or quench the Spirit of God, we may lose the comfort and enjoyment of such precious truths?
The same sluggishness shows when believers hand their own duties to someone else.
The great mass of Christian men and women seek to escape their responsibility. They believe in substitution — letting someone else do it — in almost every line of Christian activity... This kind of substitution comes out of the spiritual sluggishness described in Proverbs 6:10-11.
If poverty comes last, something has to come first. One writer traces the whole decline back to a single dropped habit.
I believe that the beginning of all decline is neglect of prayer... We read that our blessed Lord was constantly in prayer through the three and a half years of His public ministry... If that blessed Man, the sinless One, our great Example, felt the need of prayer so deeply, how great must our need be!
- A little. Ruin grows out of small concessions — a little sleep, a little slackening — never a decision to fail.
- A lot. Those small concessions buy a large loss: poverty walks in like a prowler, want like an armed man who takes no refusal.
- No excuse. The ant works with no captain, overseer or ruler; the sluggard has less reason for idleness than an insect.
- No scandal needed. Laziness alone can ruin a man who is clear of drink, lust and bad company.
- Inward first. Prayer dropped, then the Bible dusty, then a life running wild — the soul goes poor the same way the pocket does.