Catholic Commentary
Warning Against the Miser's Table
6Don’t eat the food of him who has a stingy eye, and don’t crave his delicacies,7for as he thinks about the cost, so he is. “Eat and drink!” he says to you, but his heart is not with you.8You will vomit up the morsel which you have eaten and waste your pleasant words.
Proverbs 23:6–8 warns against accepting hospitality from a stingy person whose reluctance and mental calculation reveal a corrupted character. The passage teaches that a person's true identity is defined by their inner thoughts and values rather than their outward actions, and that entering into false fellowship with such a person will ultimately prove spiritually intolerable.
A miser's hospitality poisons the table because generosity is not what you give—it's what you think while giving.
Proverbs 23:6 — "Don't eat the food of him who has a stingy eye"
The Hebrew idiom underlying "stingy eye" (ra' ayin, "evil eye") is one of the most vivid in the Wisdom literature. In the ancient Near Eastern moral vocabulary, the "eye" was the window of the soul's orientation: a "good eye" (ayin tovah) denoted generosity and openhandedness, while the "evil eye" (ayin ra'ah) denoted miserliness, envy, and covetousness. This is not superstition but moral psychology. The sage is not warning against a magical curse; he is warning against the corrosive moral atmosphere that surrounds a person whose fundamental orientation is toward hoarding. The verb "eat" (lehem, bread) signals not merely a snack but a formal meal, a covenant-laden act in the ancient world. To share bread was to share life and trust. The sage warns: do not enter into that covenant with a man whose heart has already broken it before the bread is even broken.
Proverbs 23:7 — "For as he thinks about the cost, so he is"
This is among the most psychologically penetrating lines in the Book of Proverbs. The Hebrew verb here (sha'ar, to calculate, to reckon, to estimate) captures the image of the miser mentally tallying the cost of every bite his guest takes. Even while extending a hand of welcome, his mind is running a ledger. The phrase "so he is" is a thunderclap of moral realism: a person is not what they perform, but what they think. The inner calculation is the true man. This anticipates by centuries what the New Testament will articulate about the heart as the seat of moral identity (cf. Matt 15:18–19). The sage is therefore making a point about the ontology of moral action: generosity that is merely external, performed while the mind begrudges every portion, is no generosity at all. It is a kind of moral fraud. Almsgiving done with resentment does not sanctify either the giver or the receiver.
Proverbs 23:8 — "You will vomit up the morsel which you have eaten"
The sage completes the warning with visceral, embodied language. The guest who eats at the miser's table will find the meal spiritually — and perhaps physically — intolerable. "Vomit" (qo') is strong, unambiguous language, the same root used elsewhere for the land "vomiting out" its inhabitants because of their moral impurity (Lev 18:25). The wisdom tradition here uses the body as a moral teacher: the soul intuits the corruption of the transaction and the whole person rejects it. The guest's discomfort is not neurosis but moral perception. The verse continues (beyond the cluster): "your pleasant words will be wasted" — the social relationship built on false hospitality produces nothing of true value. Every compliment, every word of gratitude, every bond of fellowship formed at the miser's table is built on sand.
Typological and Spiritual Senses
At the allegorical level, the miser's table stands in sharp contrast to the table that Wisdom herself sets in Proverbs 9:1–6, where she invites all freely, with no hidden ledger. The miser's table is anti-Wisdom, a parody of genuine communion. In the Catholic typological tradition, the miser's table also foreshadows — by negative image — the Eucharistic table, where the Host gives not reluctantly but to the point of total self-donation. The evil eye that calculates cost is the polar opposite of Christ's "eyes raised to heaven" (cf. Matt 14:19) in the moment of gift. The spiritual sense further instructs that spiritual directors, confessors, catechists, and even homilists may offer "bread" that is tainted by pride, resentment, or condescension — and that such teaching, however orthodox in content, will ultimately fail to nourish.
Catholic tradition illuminates this passage at several depth levels that a purely secular reading cannot reach.
The Inner Life as the Ground of Moral Action. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that "the morality of human acts depends on the object chosen, the end in view or the intention, and the circumstances of the action" (CCC 1750). Verse 7 — "as he thinks, so he is" — anticipates this moral theology with striking precision: the miser's act of serving food is vitiated at the level of intention. St. Thomas Aquinas, drawing on Aristotle and Scripture alike, taught in the Summa Theologiae (I-II, q. 20, a. 1) that the goodness of an exterior act depends on the goodness of the will behind it. The miser's hospitality is objectively generous in appearance but morally deficient in substance.
Avarice as a Capital Sin. The Church identifies avarice (greed, covetousness) as one of the seven capital sins — those which, as the Catechism states, "engender other sins and vices" (CCC 1866). Gregory the Great in his Moralia in Job identifies avarice as particularly dangerous because it masquerades as prudence and responsibility, making the miser difficult even to recognize. Proverbs 23:6 cuts through this camouflage: the evil eye betrays the miser even before he speaks.
Hospitality as Sacramental Sign. Catholic tradition, rooted in the Rule of St. Benedict ("Let all guests be received as Christ"), understands hospitality as a participation in the divine generosity. Pope Francis in Evangelii Gaudium (§197) links care for the poor and open-handed generosity to the very credibility of the Gospel witness. The miser's table is therefore not merely socially unpleasant — it is a counter-sign, an anti-witness to the gratuitous love that lies at the heart of Christian life.
The Church Fathers — St. Ambrose in De Officiis explicitly cites the dangerous hospitality of those who give with a begrudging heart, warning clergy especially that ministry offered with resentment poisons those it ostensibly serves.
Contemporary Catholics encounter the miser's table in forms both obvious and subtle. Most obviously, this passage invites examination of conscience around generosity: Do I give freely, or do I give while mentally calculating what I am losing? The tithe offered with resentment, the volunteer hour logged with bitterness, the Thanksgiving table set with grudging obligation — these are all versions of the miser's eye.
But the passage cuts deeper. Catholic families, parishes, and communities are called to ask: Is our welcome genuine? Many Catholics who pride themselves on orthodoxy or liturgical correctness can offer an intellectually rich "table" — sound doctrine, beautiful liturgy, excellent programming — while harboring an inward coldness toward newcomers, the poor, or those who are different. The congregation senses the "evil eye" even when it cannot name it, and the morsel is vomited up: people leave not because the teaching was wrong, but because the welcome was fraudulent.
Practically: before any act of giving — alms, time, hospitality, service — St. Francis de Sales recommended a brief interior act of will: "I give this freely, as from God, to God." This small practice converts the miser's ledger into the widow's mite, and makes even a small gift genuinely nourishing.
Commentary