Give us this day
our daily bread. How many times have I prayed those words, thinking that “daily
bread” meant just that—a day’s worth of ordinary, every-day food for physical
sustenance? It reminds me of the Hebrews who, as they wandered in the
wilderness, were given manna to eat—but just enough for that day, for manna did
not keep longer.
I can also read “daily bread” metaphorically, so that it
becomes an allotment of spiritual sustenance—a kind word, a timely sermon, a
song, a glimpse of the beauty of the natural world, or any other experience
that offers hope or other provision for facing whatever the day calls me to. In
both physical and spiritual senses, the phrase “daily bread” seems straightforward
enough.
But it turns out that the Greek word epiousios, which is the word behind the familiar “daily” in most
translations of the Lord’s Prayer, is a rarer word than we might think. It
appears only twice in the Bible, once in Matthew and once in Luke, in both cases
attributed to Jesus in his instructions on prayer. It may have been found one
other time in fragmentary writings from ancient Greece—but even that is
debatable. And so it is a mysterious word; no one knows what it really means.
“Daily” is perhaps as good a guess as any—but it is only a guess. St. Jerome
(ca. 347—420 CE) had a different guess. He translated epiousios as “supersubstantial.”
I discovered all this the other day while reading a book
on the history of Christianity, and it stopped me in my tracks: Give us this day our supersubstantial bread?
Wow! Really?
I investigated further. Sure enough, though the internet,
I found not only confirmation of what I had read but also various theological
discussions about possible meanings of “supersubstantial.” (I confess that as a
modern American, the phrase “super-sized” — as in, “Do you want fries with
that?” — briefly crossed my mind.) I commend those discussions to you for your
own further investigation.
I also turned to my dictionary. The adjective substantial can mean real, not
imaginary; ample, even hefty; considerable in degree. The prefix super, meaning over and above, greater
than normal, even excessive, enlarges any word it is paired with. You can mix
and match the various meanings to come to your own understanding of “supersubstantial.”
But no matter what you take it to mean, “supersubstantial”
differs from “daily.” “Daily” (which has Old English and Germanic roots rather
than Latin ones) refers to frequency and perhaps reliability of occurrence. As
far as I am concerned, daily bread is miraculous in and of itself. But it is
enlarged ever further by “supersubstantial,” which refers to quality and/or
quantity.
Why had I not known that possible translation before?
And now that I know, what difference does knowing make?
I have just begun thinking about this matter, and I
suspect that it is the kind of puzzle with which I could occupy myself for
quite some time. Suddenly an old, familiar phrase has, like bread itself, been
broken open.
At the very least, it points afresh to mystery. If
something so surprising could be hiding in a single word in a prayer I have prayed
for more than six decades, who knows what might come next? And from now on,
while my lips are saying, “Give us this day our daily bread,” in my heart of
hearts, I will be pondering “supersubstantial.”
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