The Sweetest Reasons to Read the Bible

Why don’t you read the Bible? Let me tell you two tragic tales and see if you can spot the answer.

Once upon a time, a warrior partook in the world’s oddest siege. His army had no war machines or clever engines to topple the great walls that stood between them and victory. They had something better — the word of their God. For days, this warrior and his comrades merely marched around their fortified foe, singing great songs but swinging no swords. On the seventh day, they walked longer and sang louder, and (true to his word) their God made those walls fall like a sandcastle at high tide.

But for this warrior, triumph opened onto tragedy. God had put one stipulation on victory: Leave all the loot. But all the shiny stuff proved too alluring. Perhaps it was just greed, perhaps he was worried about his family, perhaps he thought no one would notice — whatever the case, the warrior stole some gold. His story didn’t end well.

The second tale revolves around a strong man — by all accounts, the strongest man. He also was promised victory by the word of his God and given a few stipulations: no alcohol, no haircuts, no dead bodies. With strength like a god (from his God), this man’s feats are legendary. One time, he slew a thousand men solo. Another time, he casually broke through ropes. Once, a lion attacked him, and he tore that king of the jungle apart with his bare hands. But later, he returned to the carcass and found it full of honey, which he ate. I’m sure you see the problem: no dead bodies. This snack marked the start of his long decline. His end was also tragic.

Did you catch the common thread that ties these stories together? Both Achan and Samson considered something else better than the word of God. Achan saw a city full of gold and thought, More desirable. Samson saw a carcass full of honey and thought, More delightful. Both men had tragically bad taste. Both were far too easily pleased.

Bad Excuses

If we’re honest, we neglect the Bible for the same reasons: because we find something either more desirable or more delightful than God’s word. Sure, the consequences may not be as spectacular as Achan’s or Samson’s, but, if we’re honest, our excuses are just as lame. I’m too busy. I’m not feeling it. Understanding is hard. I just can’t focus. These are no better than Ooh, shiny! or Oh, sweet! They share the same tragic taste.

Thanks be to God that the Bible itself cultivates our taste for something far better. Listen to how David describes God’s words:

More to be desired are they than gold,
     even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey
     and drippings of the honeycomb.
Moreover, by them is your servant warned;
     in keeping them there is great reward. (Psalm 19:10–11)

More desirable. More delightful. More rewarding. When David compares God’s instruction with other things, the book always tips the scale — and it’s not even close. Notice, these are objective statements, not subjective experiences. Yes, David does indeed experience God’s word as better than gold (Psalm 119:72) and sweeter than honey (Psalm 119:103), but that’s not what he’s saying here. He’s saying they are — really, ontologically, whether you feel it or not — better and sweeter.

In other words, when we (like Achan and Samson) find other things more delightful or desirable than Scripture, the problem is not Scripture; the problem is us. This is good news, because taste can change; godly taste can be cultivated. And that’s exactly what David is trying to do when he describes God’s word: He’s trying to help us taste and see that the word is good. So, let’s follow him.

More Desirable

David is a poet, and like any good poet, he lives on metaphors. Here, he reveals the desirability of Scripture by comparing it to gold. So, what makes gold so desirable?

“Far more than the perfect cup of coffee or sweet treat, when we eat God’s words, they delight our hearts.”

First and foremost, gold (like any kind of wealth) is a measure of accessibility, of your capacity to acquire what you want. With a pile of caveats, the gold in your vault indicates how many of your desires you can fulfill. You want a hamburger? Pull out your wallet. You want wagyu steak? Write the check. You want fresh pizza from Italy for dinner tonight? Hand over the dough. Gold is desirable because it can fulfill desires. But not all of them — and (as anyone on Forbes’s Billionaire List could tell you) none of the most important ones.

That’s why Scripture is more desirable than gold: It meets deeper desires. The most piercing of these desires is the ache to know and enjoy God himself, which cannot (truly) happen apart from God’s words. We see this clearly in Psalm 19. The first six verses are all about general revelation. Interestingly, we only hear about “God” in this section, glorious but general. It is not until David turns his attention to specific revelation that we find reference to Yahweh, the personal name of the triune God. This indicates that in God’s own spoken words we find the fullest picture of the God we so desire to know, a portrait that is filled out in the face of Jesus Christ.

The gold metaphor goes deeper. We could talk about the beauty of gold (it glorifies whatever it adorns), or the splendor of gold (it amplifies light), or the enduring value of gold (it is not Bitcoin). But the point is this: If the guard at Fort Knox (or Jericho) offered you a key to the vault in exchange for access to God’s word, you’d be as foolish as Achan to take the deal. The math is simple: Scripture > gold. God’s words are more desirable than gold because they have the capacity to meet deeper desires than gold.

More Delightful

What is your favorite sweet? Perhaps a Krispy Kreme donut, or perfectly ripe strawberries, or hot chocolate that tastes like it took 1,200 years to get right. David never tasted any of those things, but if he had, he would have said, “Scripture is sweeter.” That’s mainly what he’s trying to capture with his comparison to honey. However much you delight in your favorite drink or dessert, God’s words are objectively more delightful. We just need (and should pray for) the spiritual taste buds to savor them.

But honey has other virtues that thicken the comparison. When we eat honey, it imparts health (Proverbs 16:24). It sparks energy and brightens eyes (1 Samuel 14:27). And to top it off, honey never spoils. At every point of comparison, Scripture takes the cake. It revives the soul (Psalm 19:7), enlightens the eyes (Psalm 19:8), and endures forever (Psalm 19:9). Far more than the perfect cup of coffee or sweet treat, when we eat God’s words, they delight our hearts (Psalm 19:8; see Jeremiah 15:16).

Dear reader, haven’t you tasted this sweetness? Haven’t your eyes brightened at the promise that those who wait on the Lord will soar like eagles (Isaiah 40:31)? Hasn’t your soul been revived by the assurance “I am with you always” (Matthew 28:20)? Haven’t you bounced off the walls at the words “So have I loved you” (John 15:9)? Haven’t you delighted in the never-spoiling guarantee “Surely I am coming soon” (Revelation 22:20)? All this honey — and so much more! — is there for the taking if you will but take up and read.

Unblushing Promises of Reward

Yet, like Achan and Samson before us, we conjure up excuses to ignore or neglect God’s word. I suspect if any of these came to the ear of David, he would say, “In keeping God’s word there is great reward (Psalm 19:11). You’re too busy making a living? Too distracted by your phone? Too catechized by entertainment culture to read well?” He would shake his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just too easily pleased.”

Saint, don’t settle for the tragic taste of Achan or Samson. God woos us to his word with unblushing promises of reward; take hold of them. God invites you to come eat and drink his words (Isaiah 55:1–3). They are more desirable than gold; they are sweeter than honey. In keeping them there is great reward.

So, why don’t you read the Bible?