Note: among other things, we’re going to nerd out about translations a little bit . . . . .

The Verse

Better is a dinner of vegetables where love is than a fatted ox and hatred with it.

(New Revised Standard Version)

Okay, yes: this card is a little weird. Like that white stuff in the corner of your eye weird. Or wearing a beret, un-ironically, after 2008.

And the verse itself feels like something that should be on Christian t-shirts, sold at summer camps, or passed out at “lock-ins” and other youth group events.

Consider a few other popular translations:

Better a small serving of vegetables with love than a fattened calf with hatred.

(New International Version)

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a fattened ox and hatred with it.

(English Standard Version)

Better a bread crust shared in love than a slab of prime rib served in hate.

(The Message)

With minor variations, they’re all pretty straight forward in their meaning: it’s better to eat a small meal where love is present, than to eat a large meal in the presence of hatred. It seems to be about sharing a quaint meal with a friend and the joy that brings; How it is better to share burgers and fries off the dollar menu with someone you love— feet gently touching under the table— than at an elaborate, expensive meal at a fancy gala surrounded by fake friends you’d rather disembowel with a dull spoon. This understanding is why the New Living Translation renders it

 A bowl of vegetables with someone you love is better than steak with someone you hate.

The problem is, the NLT is dead wrong and makes a beautiful mess of the actual image in the verse.

This verse is about what you get, and from whom you get it, not how you feel about them.

Sometimes biblical passages are straight forward.

Don’t eat that. Don’t stick that there. Kill that, twice, and then burn it with fire.

At other times, finding the meaning is more nuanced: the text should be held like a delicate flower, the layers of meaning peeled away carefully like an onion. Or a parfait. We hope to do that below.

Setting the Table

טֹוב אֲרֻחַת יָרָק וְאַהֲבָה־שָׁם מִשֹּׁור אָבוּס וְשִׂנְאָה־בֹֽו

Better an allotment of greens/garden herbs, and love is there, than a ox fattened with/by hatred (inside of it). ~ our translation/transliteration

In our estimation, the understanding of one word in this passage helps to unlock its meaning (because the rest are pretty straightforward). And that word is אֲרֻחָה ‘aruchah: what the NRSV translated as “dinner,” and we translated above as “an allotment.”

The word comes from a root that is used for travelling, and its meaning is tied to having a set portion or allowance of food. Think about this word in relation to rationing food— a set amount for a specific time period.

The word is biblically rare and its use is often focused on the source of the meals: one in authority. This word is only used three (3) other times in the Bible, and in each of those cases it is referring to an allotment of food given by a king (c.f. 2 Kings 25:30, Jeremiah 40:5, and Jeremiah 52:34).

Though Proverbs often feels like a Holden Caulfield-esque stream of consciousness on an acid trip of good advice and life wisdom, this verse should be with paired with the previous verse:

Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble with it. (Proverbs 15:16, NRSV)

The parallel between the two verse is obvious, and also highlights the connection to authority, in this case God. So what do we have: It is better to receive a something, even a small something, from a loving authority in a loving situation, than it is to receive something large that is filled—has been intentionally “fattened”— with hatred.

Proverbs regularly talks about the relationship between kings and their vassals/subjects (e.g. Proverbs 14:35, 16:14, 22:11, and 22:29). In fact, our card’s passage would fit well in the midst of Proverbs 23, which contains advice such as:

When you sit down to eat with a ruler,

observe carefully what is before you,

and put a knife to your throat

if you have a big appetite.

Do not desire the ruler’s delicacies,

for they are deceptive food. (vs 1-3)

Do not eat the bread of the stingy;

do not desire their delicacies;

for like a hair in the throat, so are they.

“Eat and drink!” they say to you;

but they do not mean it.

You will vomit up the little you have eaten,

and you will waste your pleasant words. (vs 6-8)

Do not be among winebibbers,

or among gluttonous eaters of meat;

for the drunkard and the glutton will come to poverty,

and drowsiness will clothe them with rags. (vs 20-21)

The warning is clear:

be careful of who you dine with, even if/especially if they have more power and/or wealth than you.

All that glitters is not gold.

Enjoying the Meal

Obviously this applies beyond situations with your employer, the government, clergy, and others who exercise power over your life. While this passage is technically more about sociopolitical discernment than it is about friendship, we should also show a measure of relational discernment in regards to our friendship. The two things often go hand in hand.

These include the hands you hold, fingers lightly caressing. The hands you grasp and warmly shake. The hands that pop the pimples on your back. The hands that hold you back from doing something stupid, or clamp a hand over your mouth. And yes, the hands that provide you with meals.

While this passage is a call to rightly judge social situations, perhaps it is also a good reminder of the etymology of the word companion. com "with, together" + panis "bread." To come together with bread.

Companions are the people you would share a meal with, be it a salad, a Five Guys burger, or a simple PB And J.

Perhaps we should be mindful of who those people are, as well as all the ways we are lucky to have them in our lives. Those who give with love, instead of with hate.

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But what do we know: we made this game and you probably think we’re going to Hell.