FATAL APPEAL OF THE FORBIDDEN

Proverbs 9.17-18
FATAL APPEAL OF THE FORBIDDEN
"Stolen water is sweet; food eaten in secret is delicious!" (9.17)

THE COMPETING CALLS OF WISDOM AND OF folly continue into this chapter. Each again issues her invitation. Wisdom offers her fare (9.1-6), likewise Folly her delicacies (9.13-17). But there is one difference: the latter is stolen. For that, it has to be consumed in secret. But irony of ironies! The very wrongness of the act makes it all the more appealing!

"There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable," says Mark Twain, an astute observer of human behaviour. As does the English equivalent "Forbidden fruit tastes sweeter", Solomon's proverb here gives us a penetrating insight into human nature. Beginning with Eve in the Garden of Eden, mankind has operated on that basis. I remember once seeing a prominent sign in a town in India — "Do Not Dump Here" — with a heap of rubbish underneath it. I have taken a photograph of a street musician in the London Underground performing in front of a sign, "No Busking."

The apostle Paul speaks of this strange behavioural twist in his own experience: "...l would not have known what coveting really was if the law had not said, 'Do not covet.' But sin, seizing the opportunity afforded by the commandment, produced in me every kind of covetous desire" (Rom 7.7-8). The sin of Eve in desiring and eating the forbidden fruit has left a permanent flaw embedded in our moral character. We relish the forbidden.

Sin is like a light sleeper in the heart of man. The slightest whisper of prohibition awakens her. So Charles Bridges observes, "Restraint provokes the dormant power of sin." Sin rouses the sinner and demands its right! Such instinct is the surest sign of the rebellious nature of man. He jumps at every opportunity to disobey God.

But the secret feast of stolen food has another side to it. Just as the glamour of cigarette advertisement hides the ugly reality of lung cancer, so Folly hides the frightening truth. This feast has the dead as its guests, and the table is a tomb. The home she invites us to is a grave, and no one comes out of it alive.

Most addicts first try drugs out of curiosity. Soon they find that a dose of ganja or heroin appeals only before they take it. After the act, the appeal dies. Not only does the appeal die, a revulsion sets in, so that an addict will give anything to kick the habit. He has tasted what is forbidden. Then he realises he has taken part in the feast of death.

Am I coveting some forbidden fruit?