Sirach 4:1–6

Verse 1: "Don't deprive the poor of his living. Don't make the needy eyes wait long." The Hebrew behind "living" (meḥyah) refers to sustenance — the bare necessities that keep a person alive. Ben Sira's verb "deprive" is deliberately strong: to withhold from the poor what they need is not a passive failure of generosity but an active robbery. The second clause introduces the motif of eyes, which runs through verses 1–5 with mounting intensity. The "needy eyes" that wait long are already suffering; to prolong that wait is to inflict additional pain on someone already in anguish. Time is a moral dimension of charity.

Verse 2: "Don't make a hungry soul sorrowful, or provoke a man in his distress." "Hungry soul" (nefesh ra'evah) echoes the biblical idiom in which nefesh means the whole living person, their very life-breath bound up with their bodily need. To make such a person sorrowful is to wound them at the core of their being. The second clause escalates this: to "provoke" someone already in distress is to add insult to injury, to make their poverty a source of shame or anger rather than a condition to be relieved. Ben Sira anticipates what today we might call the compounding of disadvantage — the poor are not only materially destitute but psychologically vulnerable to contempt.

Verse 3: "Don't add more trouble to a heart that is provoked. Don't put off giving to him who is in need." The phrase "heart that is provoked" (lev mar) literally means a bitter heart — someone already pushed to the edge. Ben Sira warns against the casual cruelty of piling on. The second prohibition strikes at a specific vice: procrastination in giving. There is a kind of moral evasion that says "yes, but not now" — and Sirach identifies this as a sin. This echoes Proverbs 3:28 ("Don't say to your neighbor, 'Go, and come again; tomorrow I will give'"), suggesting a shared wisdom tradition that treats delay as tantamount to denial.

Verse 4: "Don't reject a suppliant in his affliction. Don't turn your face away from a poor man." "Suppliant" (mithḥannen) is a person making a formal plea — one who has humbled themselves to ask. To reject such a person is to violate the ancient ethic of hospitality and mercy. The command not to "turn your face away" is particularly resonant in a culture where face-to-face encounter was the primary arena of moral responsibility. Turning the face away is a physical enactment of social exclusion, a bodily refusal to see another person's humanity.

Verse 5: "Don't turn your eye away from one who asks. Give no occasion to a man to curse you." The repetition of the "eye" motif — begun with "needy eyes" in Sirach 4:1 — now focuses on the giver's eye, not the receiver's. The one who averts their gaze is making a choice. The warning to "give no occasion to a man to curse you" introduces a new register: prudential self-interest. Ben Sira is not above appealing to the practical consequences of cruelty, but this appeal serves a deeper moral logic articulated in verse 6.

Verse 6: "For if he curses you in the bitterness of his soul, he who made him will hear his supplication." This is the theological climax of the passage. The phrase "he who made him" ('oseihu) is the key: God is the Creator of the poor person, and this ontological dignity — the dignity of being made by God — is the ultimate ground for their claims upon us. The curse of the afflicted is not mere social embarrassment; it rises before God. Ben Sira here stands in the tradition of the Exodus narrative (Exod 22:23, 27), where God declares that when the oppressed cry out, he will hear. The poor man's prayer has privileged access to the divine ear precisely because he has been wronged.

Typological and Spiritual Senses: Allegorically, the poor person who is rejected prefigures Christ himself, who identified with "the least of these" (Matt 25:40–45). The "face" of the poor man that must not be turned away anticipates the face of Christ disfigured in the passion — the same Christ who, in the Eucharist, is truly present and must not be turned away. The "bitterness of soul" that cries to God recalls both the suffering servant of Isaiah 53 and the cry of Christ from the cross (Ps 22:1), suggesting that authentic solidarity with the poor participates in the paschal mystery.

Catholic tradition illuminates this passage with unusual depth by grounding it in the theology of the human person made in the imago Dei. The Catechism teaches that "love for the poor is incompatible with immoderate love of riches or their selfish use" (CCC 2445) and that the Church's love for the poor is part of her "constant tradition" (CCC 2444), citing the witness of the Fathers directly.

St. John Chrysostom, preaching on the parable of Lazarus, made verse 6 a centerpiece of his social teaching: "The poor man has one protector, God who made him; if you despise him, you despise his Maker." This Patristic insight — that cruelty to the poor is an offense against the Creator — anticipates the Second Vatican Council's Gaudium et Spes §27, which lists "arbitrary imprisonment, deportation, slavery, prostitution, the selling of women and children, as well as disgraceful working conditions" among offenses against human dignity that "poison human society."

Pope Leo XIII in Rerum Novarum (1891) and Pope Francis in Laudato Si' (2015, §158) both invoke the preferential option for the poor as a structural principle of Catholic social teaching rooted precisely in the biblical conviction that God hears the cry of the poor (cf. Sir 4:6; Exod 22:23). The phrase "he who made him will hear" is not a peripheral threat but the theological engine of the entire Catholic social tradition: the dignity of the poor is inalienable because it is constituted by the act of a Creator God who does not abandon his creatures.

St. Thomas Aquinas (ST II-II, q. 32, a. 5) argued that in cases of extreme necessity, giving to the poor is not a matter of charity but of strict justice — one who withholds in such circumstances commits a form of theft. Ben Sira's verse 1 ("don't deprive the poor of his living") maps almost exactly onto this Thomistic teaching.

For a contemporary Catholic, this passage cuts through two comfortable evasions. The first is the evasion of abstraction: reducing care for the poor to signing petitions or supporting general policies while averting our literal eyes from the person begging outside Mass or the colleague drowning in debt. Ben Sira's language is viscerally physical — eyes, face, heart, soul — because charity must be embodied and personal, not merely structural.

The second evasion is delay. Verse 3 condemns "putting off giving" — the promise to help "soon" that dissolves into forgetfulness. Catholic parish life offers concrete structures to defeat this: St. Vincent de Paul Society home visits, food pantry volunteering, direct giving without intermediary. The digital age has multiplied ways to donate at a distance while avoiding encounter; Sirach insists that the face of the poor must not be averted.

Finally, verse 6 offers a profound examination of conscience: Have I given any poor person legitimate cause to appeal to God against me? — through exploitative wages, dismissive treatment, or systemic indifference? This is not a rhetorical question. It is a criterion for judgment.