A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest,
These words are not the wise man's advice but the sluggard's excuse, spoken beside a field of thorns and a broken wall. A small indulgence turns out to explain a whole ruined life.
What the ruined field reveals
The wall and the weeds are not the man's problem; they are his portrait. He does nothing scandalous. He simply leaves the work undone.
William KellyThe slothful man is an object of pity as well as blame. He might be respectable in this way or that. But his field and his vineyard proclaim the fault, and forecast his ruin. Thorns and nettles hold the field where the good grain should wave. The wall is so broken down that it invites damaging men and beasts. It is no example, but a serious warning. The outward discloses the inward. The careless man lives to sleep his life away. He may be innocent of strong drink, or of sensual pleasure, or of wasteful company. His laziness ensures his ruin.
The word "little"
The verse counts everything in small amounts. That is how the damage happens. No one decides to ruin the garden; they decide to leave it until tomorrow.
William J HockingIt is always so. Sloth says, "Put off work till tomorrow. Another time will do just as well." So things are allowed to drift. No weeding. No digging. No sowing. But all the while the nettles are growing; the thorns are silently creeping over the flower beds, and the stone wall is toppling further day by day. Then there is a crash. You rush out to investigate, and you find your neat garden has become a wilderness. All around you are the consequences of your own sheer neglect.
When rest takes over
The verse is not an attack on rest. It condemns rest that has taken over — and Solomon, who wrote the warning, did not heed it well enough himself.
L M GrantVerse 33 shows that Solomon understood this well, but apparently not well enough. Only "a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest" (v. 33) may have serious results. Of course, we need sleep and rest. But if this characterises our lives, it is a different matter. This is especially serious when we sleep about spiritual matters, and so are unaware of grave dangers. It was "while men slept" that the enemy sowed weeds among the wheat (Matt. 13:25).
The same field, a modern address
One writer retells the picture as a visit to a house, not a farm.
William J HockingI went to the house of young Mr. Slothful. There many other books completely hid his Bible. Thick dust had covered its back and sides, and his regular habits of daily prayer were quite broken down. I saw all this and considered it well, and I knew the reason. Young Mr. Slothful had been indulging in a little more sleep in the mornings. He had been slackening off with the usual duties, and taking a little more self-ease in everything. And now spiritual poverty has come upon him like a robber. He is cold in heart and distant in his ways. But it is all the fruit of his own simple neglect.
Where the poverty begins
The outward decay starts inside. One writer traces the order in which it happens.
The Christian's FriendThe truth is that we begin to be slothful Christians when certain things happen. We stop enjoying the love of God to us in Christ. Christ Himself is no longer the Object and Hope of our hearts. Meditating on the word of God becomes tiresome, and private prayer declines. Private praise and making melody in the heart to the Lord stops. We no longer overflow with love to our Saviour God, to His ways, His people, and His service. How serious this state is! For "slothfulness casts into a deep sleep; and an idle soul shall suffer hunger." (Prov. 19:15.) Note that it is a deep sleep; so deep that ordinary means completely fail to wake them.
The excuse that quiets conscience
The same excuse also lulls a conscience that feels no alarm. One writer names where that quiet ends.
J Wilson SmithTimes of misgiving may indeed come, yet relapses follow. The sluggard's plea lulls the conscience: "A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest." So all is quiet again, all is peaceful, all is silent — but it is the silence of death.
The cure
Commentators differ on the cure. One offers a swap: instead of folding the hands to sleep, "a lot of folding of the hands to pray would be a far better exercise" (Michael Vogelsang). Another looks past effort to Christ Himself, our propitiation — the sacrifice that answers our sins before God.
William KellyThe true remedy is not industry for self, or activity in the world and the things of the world, but Christ, the life eternal and the only propitiation for our sins to God's glory, the Lord of all, saints or sinners, the fullness of blessing and pattern of service.
Summary
- Little. Ruin arrives in small instalments — a little sleep, a little slackening, a little more self-ease — never in one deliberate choice.
- Neglect. This man is no drunkard and no waster; laziness alone breaks his wall, and "the outward discloses the inward."
- Drift. Decline starts inside, when Christ is no longer the heart's Object and private prayer fades.
- Deep. The sleep hardens, until ordinary means fail to wake the sleeper — and that quiet can be the silence of death.
- Christ. The answer is not harder work for self, but Christ Himself — hands folded in prayer instead of sleep.