Catholic Commentary
Diligence, Honest Speech, and the Value of Wisdom
13Don’t love sleep, lest you come to poverty. Open your eyes, and you shall be satisfied with bread.14“It’s no good, it’s no good,” says the buyer; but when he is gone his way, then he boasts.15There is gold and abundance of rubies, but the lips of knowledge are a rare jewel.
Proverbs 20:13–15 warns against the love of sleep as spiritual inversion and condemns deceitful speech while elevating wisdom as humanity's greatest treasure. The passage progresses from the sleeping body misdirected by desire, to the lying mouth engaged in bad faith, to lips shaped by covenantal knowledge as the rarest and most precious jewel.
Wisdom reshapes the whole person—from the hands that work, to the mouth that speaks truth, to a life that knows what truly matters.
Proverbs 20:13 — "Don't love sleep, lest you come to poverty."
The verse uses the Hebrew verb 'āhab ("to love") with pointed irony: the same verb elsewhere describes Israel's love for God and God's love for his people (Deut 6:5; Hos 11:1). To "love sleep" is therefore not merely laziness but a disordered affection — a misdirection of the heart's deepest capacity. Sleep itself is not condemned; the sage condemns the love of sleep, the existential posture of one who prefers unconsciousness to engagement. The consequence is rēsh, poverty — a word the book of Proverbs deploys not only for material destitution but for the spiritual vacancy that follows any flight from one's vocation. The second clause, "open your eyes and you will be satisfied with bread," implied by the Hebrew parallelism (the full verse in the MT completes the antithesis), frames wakefulness as eucharistic — eyes opened, needs met. There is a clear typological resonance with the disciples asleep in Gethsemane (Matt 26:40–45), whom Jesus reproves with essentially the same logic: the failure to watch is the failure to receive what is given.
Proverbs 20:14 — "'It's no good, it's no good,' says the buyer; but when he has gone his way, then he boasts."
This is one of the most psychologically precise observations in the Wisdom literature. The buyer disparages the goods — ra' ra' in Hebrew, the doubling a mark of theatrical emphasis — in order to drive down the price, then walks away congratulating himself on his cleverness. The sage describes what we would today call negotiating in bad faith, but the point goes deeper than commerce. The speech-act is internally split: what the mouth says and what the heart intends are opposite. This is the anatomy of deceit. The sage does not moralize at length; the brief, almost cinematic description is itself the condemnation. In the context of Proverbs, where the mouth is a recurring site of moral failure and moral glory, this vignette stands as a warning that cleverness deployed against truth is self-corruption. The man who has outsmarted the seller has first outsmarted himself.
Proverbs 20:15 — "There is gold and abundance of rubies, but the lips of knowledge are a precious jewel."
The verse operates on a familiar Wisdom comparison structure (cf. Prov 3:14–15; 8:10–11): it does not deny the value of gold (zahav) or rubies (peninim, the same word used for the "capable wife" of Prov 31:10), but asserts that the lips of knowledge (sifté da'at) constitute a rarer and more excellent treasure. The phrase "lips of knowledge" is the culminating counterpoint to v. 14's false lips. Where the buyer's lips speak ra' ("evil/bad") while the heart plans something else, the lips of knowledge — lips shaped by da'at, the covenantal knowledge of God — are themselves the rare gem. The progression across all three verses is thus purposeful: from the sleeping body (v. 13), to the lying mouth (v. 14), to the mouth redeemed by wisdom (v. 15). The whole person is implicated and the whole person is the site of possible transformation.
Catholic tradition illuminates this cluster with particular richness at three levels.
First, on diligence and the theology of work: The Catechism teaches that human work participates in the creative activity of God (CCC 2427–2428), and that sloth (acedia) — indolence of soul — is a capital sin precisely because it represents a refusal to engage the good that God has prepared for us (CCC 1866, 2094). St. Thomas Aquinas identifies acedia as "sorrow about spiritual good" (Summa Theologiae II-II, q. 35), connecting the love of sleep not merely to economic failure but to spiritual torpor. Pope John Paul II's Laborem Exercens (1981) deepens this, arguing that work is not a curse but a participation in the divine image; to refuse it is to disfigure that image.
Second, on truthful speech: The Catechism's treatment of the eighth commandment (CCC 2464–2513) grounds the condemnation of the buyer's false speech in the conviction that God himself is the source of all truth, and that lying is an offense against the dignity of both speaker and hearer. St. Augustine's treatise De Mendacio argues precisely that there is no "harmless" deception — even commercially motivated falsehood disorders the soul.
Third, on wisdom as highest treasure: The Church Fathers consistently read the da'at of the wise lips as a figure for the Logos, the Word made flesh. Origen and St. Jerome both comment that the "jewel" of wise speech is ultimately Christ himself, the Wisdom of God (1 Cor 1:24), whose lips — unlike the double-tongued buyer — are entirely truthful (cf. Isa 53:9). The rare jewel of v. 15 thus points typologically toward the priceless Pearl of the Kingdom (Matt 13:45–46).
For a Catholic today, these three verses function as a brief examination of conscience for ordinary life. Verse 13 challenges the cultural normalization of disengagement — the endless scroll, the passive consumption, the spiritual restlessness that masquerades as rest. The question it poses is direct: what do I love, and is that love ordering or disordering my life? Verse 14 speaks with uncomfortable precision to the negotiations of daily professional and personal life: the performance of reluctance we do not feel, the strategic undervaluation of others' work or gifts to secure advantage for ourselves. Catholics are called to examine not just whether they lie outright, but whether their speech is integrated with their interior life. Verse 15 offers the positive vision: the person whose lips are shaped by da'at — the knowledge born of Scripture, Sacrament, and prayer — is rarer and more valuable than any financial asset. In a culture that quantifies human worth by productivity and net worth, the sage insists that the truly precious thing is a person formed by wisdom. This is an invitation to invest in lectio divina, spiritual direction, and the daily Liturgy of the Hours as seriously as one invests in any portfolio.