Love Always (I Corinthians 13:7)

What endures all things? Love [Charity, KJV] (I Corinthians 13)

In response to a letter from the church at Corinth, Paul provides instructions regarding the gifts of the Spirit (I Corinthians 12:1-14:40). Based upon context clues, it seems the Corinthian church is overrating the gift of tongues (I Corinthians 13:1, 8, 14:1-25). Amid this discussion, the apostle provides his most comprehensive description of love (I Corinthians 13:1-13). This unit is commonly referred to as the “Love Chapter”.

The reading is one of the Bible’s most beautiful passages. The King James Version of the chapter has become transfixed in the Christian experience and a staple at wedding ceremonies.

Eric L. Titus (1909-1989) informs:

In popular thought, the thirteenth chapter of I Corinthians is normative Pauline teaching; for the average Christian, this is Paul. I Corinthians 13 stands out in his [or her] mind the same way as does the 23rd Psalm [Psalm 23:1-6] or the Matthean version of the Lord’s Prayer [Matthew 6:9-13]. The reasons for this are not obscure. For one thing, the passage thrusts itself out from the Corinthian letter as if to invite special attention. Secondly, the chapter forms a neat, self-contained literary unit, dealing concisely with the theme of love. Thirdly, the theme meets people on a level which they can understand (or think they can understand) while the more complicated theological constructs of Paul do not. And finally, the theme of love is expressed in noble literary form, making its retention in the memory easy. (Titus, “Did Paul Write I Corinthians 13?”, Journal of Bible and Religion 27 (1959), 299)

Alan F. Johnson (b. 1933) extols:

This chapter has been called the “greatest, strongest, deepest thing Paul ever wrote” (Adolf von Harnack [1851-1930] 1908:148). Ralph P. Martin [1925-2013] suggests that it is “in a class by itself in Pauline literature. Chapter 13 is poetic in its style and carries all of the marks of a lyrical composition...a ‘hymn of love,’ or better an aretology (i.e., poetic rhapsody composed in praise of a deity or some attribute regarded as divine) dedicated to agape” (1982:42-43). It has been perceptively noted that here the apostle is “hardly writing as an apostle. He is scarcely teaching or preaching at this point. He sings” (A.A. van Ruler [1908-1970] 1958:7). The language of I Corinthians 13 has found a way into the church’s marriage liturgy, sermons, hymns and every Christian’s heart as the most profound description of the kind of love expressed through Jesus Christ toward us as well in the life of his servant, Paul. (Johnson, 1 Corinthians (IVP New Testament Commentary), 239-40)

In many of its common uses the passages is robbed of its rich meaning by familiarity. Paul begins an argument in the letter’s eleventh chapter that does not conclude until its fifteenth. Despite being situated directly amid this section, the Love Chapter has often been dislodged from its context in Paul’s letter and become closely associated with weddings and married love.

Scholars have been guilty of dissociating the text as well, arguing that it did not originally occupy its present place. Some have viewed the unit as an interpolation, a passage later redacted into the text (e.g. Jean Héring [1890-1966], The First Epistle of Saint Paul to the Corinthians , 134; Jack T. Sanders [b. 1935], “First Corinthians 13: Its Interpretation Since the First World War”, Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology, Volume 20, Number 2 [April 1966], 181).

Michael D. McCullar (b. 1954) laments:

It is a sad but true reality that people see I Corinthians 13 as nothing more than a stand-alone chapter of poetic writing focused on love. These words have been read at countless weddings, funerals, and ceremonies in attempts to promote the supremacy of love. Was this Paul’s overriding intent as he wrote this now infamous text? It is probably safe to say no; Paul did indeed have other issues in mind as he made the transition from chapter 12 to chapter 13...It is apparent from a complete study of the First Letter that Chapter 12 and 13 are inseparable. To fully comprehend the more famous chapter 13 and honor its contextual integrity, it is necessary to include the negatives of the previous chapter into the beautiful lyrics of love in chapter 13...When this is accomplished, the true beauty of chapter 13 shines forth. (McCullar, Sessions with Corinthians: Lessons for the Imperfect, 43)

The text is best viewed in its original setting, following a discussion of spiritual gifts (I Corinthians 12:1-31). When its context is recovered, the Love Chapter regains its stature as the culmination of the argument from the preceding passage: Paul’s is a vision of love that characterizes the church and serves as the foundation for every other gift and service.

Love becomes the standard by which all behavior is evaluated. It is like love is the perfect older sibling to whom a parent is constantly making comparisons. In lauding love, Paul is accusing the Corinthians of not measuring up.

This accusative tone is especially clear when Paul describes love’s actions (I Corinthians 13:4-7). Richard A. Horsley (b. 1939) connects:

Paul’s recitation of the acts of love in I Corinthians 13:4-7 shows how truly remarkable love is, but as he praises love, he blames the Corinthians—two sides of the same rhetorical coin. The positive acts of love are the opposite of the Corinthians’ behavior. In being “patient” and “kind” (I Corinthians 13:4a), love displays the consideration and generosity towards others that Paul has suggested some of the Corinthians lack (cf. I Corinthians 6:1-8, 8-10). What love avoids absolutely are the negative demeanor and behavior Paul sees in (some of) the Corinthians. All of the eight verbs indicating what love does not do (I Corinthians 13:4b-6) refer directly or indirectly to Paul’s criticism of them earlier in the letter. (Horsley, 1 Corinthians (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 177)

Margaret M. Mitchell (b. 1956) expounds:

This list [I Corinthians 13:4-7] bears a one-to-one correspondence with Paul’s description of Corinthians factional behavior – they are jealous (I Corinthians 3:3) and provoked to a factional tumult, they offensively put themselves forward by boasting and “being puffed up,” they do account evil, they are childish. So too, conversely, love’s positive characteristics in this list replicate the content of Paul’s advice for unity: be patient and kind; do not seek your own advantage (I Corinthians 10:23-11:1, 12:7); rejoice and grieve together like members of a body (I Corinthians 12:26; cf. Romans 12:15, also after the body metaphor). Love, which builds a strong structure, never fails (I Corinthians 8:6). It is the mortar between the bricks of the Christian building, the ἐκκλησία. (Mitchell, Paul and the Rhetoric of Reconciliation: An Exegetical Investigation of the Language an Composition of 1 Corinthians, 170-71)

The Love Chapter should be viewed as an interlude, not an interpolation. Paul consistently accentuates the contrast between the finite nature of the gifts and the enduring essence of love.

Carl R. Holladay (b. 1943) determines:

What actually turns out to be a recurrent theme of the epistle as whole reaches its fullest and richest expression here.” (David L. Balch [b. 1942], Everett Ferguson [b. 1933] and Wayne A. Meeks [b. 1932], “1 Corinthians 13: Paul as Apostolic Paradigm”, Greeks, Romans, and Christians: Essays in Honor of Abraham J. Malherbe [1930-2012], 94-95)

There has been consensus as to the literary structure of the Love Chapter since Nils W. Lund (1885-1954) identified its arrangement in 1931 (Lund, “The Literary Structure of Paul’s Hymn to Love,” Journal of Biblical Literature, 50 (1931), 266-297).

Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) outlines:

I Corinthians 13:1-3 makes the point that without love the gifts are worthless. I Corinthians 13:4-7 describe[s] the nature of love, in language designed to point out how little the Corinthians are measuring up. I Corinthians 13:8-13 highlight[s] the temporary nature of all of the gifts, contrasting with love’s permanence. The entire passage is quasi-poetic in nature, with an elaborate structure of symmetry and parallelism. (Blomberg, 1 Corinthians (The NIV Application Commentary), 258)

The passage’s genre has been more elusive. James G. Sigountos (b. 1956) acknowledges:

The genre of I Corinthians13 remains a problem, despite nearly universal agreement on the structure of the chapter. Eleven different genres have been proposed. Yet, as D. A. Carson [b. 1946] has noted, only two of those options, hymn and paraenesis, have attracted much scholarly backing. (Sigountos, “The Genre of 1 Corinthians 13”, New Testament Studies 03/1994; 40(02), 246)

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) classifies:

Some earlier interpreters viewed I Corinthians 13:1-13 as poetry (though it lacks the meter of Greek poetry) or even a source that Paul reused. Repetition characterized Greco-Roman rhetoric, however, and Paul’s exalted prose was appropriate for a lofty subject; such prose was sometimes even rhythmic. One of the three major types of rhetoric was epideictic (involving praise or blame), and one of the three types of epideictic rhetoric was the encomium, a praise of a person or subject. One common rhetorical exercise was an encomium of a particular virtue, as here (or Hebrews 11:3-31, also using anaphora). Sometimes the virtue was personified or deified (unlike here); wedding orations often included encomia on marriage or (erotic) love (Menander Rhetor [342-291 BCE] 2.6, 399.11-405.13). Self-giving love was important in ancient ethics (especially Greek thought on friendship) but not consistently central; Paul reflects its consistently central place in early Christian ethics, likely dependent on the Jesus tradition (Mark 12:30-31; John 13:34-35, 17:21-23). (Keener, 1-2 Corinthians (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 107-08)

Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) compares:

First Corinthians 13:1-13 is an aretalogy of love (cf. Plato [427-347 BCE], Symposium 197 A-E; cf. also a similar aretalogy of truth in I Esdras 4:34-4- that falls into an aba’ pattern: (a) the superiority of love (I Corinthians 13:1-3)...(b) the characterization of love (I Corinthians 13:4-7)...(a’) the superiority of love (I Corinthians 13:8-13). (Talbert, Reading Corinthians: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 109)

Within the Love Chapter, I Corinthians 13:4-7 comprises a subunit which examines the characteristics of love (I Corinthians 13:4-7). David Prior (b. 1940) introduces:

If love is so fundamental, irreplaceable and determinative for our life together as Christians, we need to know more clearly what it is. The next four verses give a crisp cameo [I Corinthians 13:4-7]...The verbs Paul uses are all in the present continuous tense, denoting actions and attitudes which have become habitual, ingrained gradually by constant repetition. They sound ordinary, obvious, almost banal; but they are probably the most difficult habits to cultivate. (Prior, The Message of 1 Corinthians (Bible Speaks Today), 229-30)

Pheme Perkins (b. 1945) considers:

Paul shifts to a catalogue listing the virtues of love (agapē), which may have been a set piece familiar to his audience since it lacks the direct links to the larger context evident in I Corinthians 13:1-3 and I Corinthians 13:8-13 (Stephen J. Patterson [b. 1957] 2009, 89-90). The linguistic shape of its phrases gives these verses a poetic or raplike sound. (Perkins, First Corinthians (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 153-54)

Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) delineates:

I Corinthians 13:4-7 characterizes love in three ways: first, what love does in two positive descriptions (“Love is patient and kind” [I Corinthians 13:4]); second, what love does not do in eight negatives (“love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong” [I Corinthians 13:4-5]); and third, what love does in five positives (“rejoice in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” [I Corinthians 13:6-7]). (Talbert, Reading Corinthians: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 109)

Raymond F. Collins (b. 1935) probes:

Throughout the pericope Paul’s language is crisp. The eight negations follow rapidly one after another so as to give a staccato effect. The final four statements also come in rapid succession. Each consists of but two words, the first of which in Greek is “all things” (panta). Paul’s four-fold use of panta introduces a universal dimension into the praise of love and furnishes the encomium with a clear theological perspective. The literary device of paronomasia, a specific form of repetitio, provides the finale of the passage with the emphasis it deserves. (Collins, First Corinthians (Sacra Pagina), 478-79)

The passage’s distinctive meter echoes the rhythm of love’s heartbeat.

In this unit, Paul joins the many who have undertaken the unenviable task of manufacturing a definition of love. Lionel Corbett (b. 1943) chronicles:

There have been many attempts to define love, but none are satisfactory, partly because the word seems to have so many meanings. We use the same word for experiences that are both personal and transpersonal. Explanations for the existence of love range from the neurological to the behavioral and psychoanalytic (e.g. Robert J. Sternberg [b. 1949] and Michael L. Barnes 1988; Robert J. Sternberg [b. 1949] and Karin Weis [b. 1976] 2006; Thomas Lewis [b. 1964], Fari Amini [1930-2004] and Richard Lannon [b. 1943] 2000). Erich Fromm [1900-1980], for example, defines the essence of human love as a type of correct giving that does not create indebtedness (1956, p. 36)...The nature of love is a mystery, so that Jiddu Krishnamurti [1895-1986] is surely correct when he says that we can only say what love is not...When one can describe love in specific terms, one is not talking about the mysterious form of transpersonal love that eludes all definition—the love that Dante [1265-1321] said “moves the sun and other stars.” That is why Carl G. Jung [1875-1961] wrote that love is primitive, primeval, and “more spiritual than anything we can describe...It is an eternal secret” (1973-1975, p. 298). (Corbett, The Sacred Cauldron: Psychotherapy as a Spiritual Practice, 89-90)

The topic of I Corinthians 13:4-7 is unilateral as Paul never deviates from his topic: love (Greek: agápē). José Enrique Aguilar Chiu (b. 1960) identifies:

A catalogue of 15 verbs in I Corinthians 13:4-7, always with the same subject: ἡ ἀγαάπη [agápē]. The catalog concludes with a quadruple πάντα in I Corinthians 13:7). (Chiu, 1 Cor 12-14: Literary Structure and Theology, 197)

Most translations speak of “love” (ASV, CEV, ESV, HCSB, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV) though the King James Version famously renders the word “charity”. Frederick Buechner (b. 1926) contemplates:

The highest gift of all is agape, he [Paul] says. Without it even faith, almsgiving, martyrdom are mere busyness and even great wisdom doesn’t amount to a hill of beans. The translators of the King James Version render the Greek word as “charity,” which in seventeenth-century usage was a happy choice - charity as the beneficence of the rich to the poor, the lucky to the unlucky, the powerful to the weak, the lovely to the unlovely. But since to our age the word all too often suggests a cheerless and demeaning handout, modern translators have usually rendered it as “love.” But agape love is not to be confused with eros love. That is what Paul is at such pains to make clear here. (Buechner, Secrets in the Dark, 203)

Despite the consistent subject matter, there is a shift in Paul’s thought at I Corinthians 13:4. Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) observes:

Here Paul personifies love, so that he has switched from love as a person’s possession (I Corinthians 13:1-3) to love as a person’s possessor, acting out through the person. The personification takes the form of describing personal characteristics evident in behavior. The descriptive verbs are all active. They start with behaviors that do characterize love, move quickly to those that don’t, and end with further behaviors that do. (Gundry, Commentary on First Corinthians)

Though it is a preferred term of New Testament writers, the word Paul uses for love (agápē) is rare in pre-Biblical classical Greek. Ethelbert Stauffer (1902-1979) researches:

Agapán...has neither the magic of erán nor the warmth of phileín. It has the first weak sense “to be satisfied,” “to receive,” “to greet,” “to honor,” or, more inwardly, “to seek after.” It can carry an element of sympathy, but also denotes “to prefer,” especially with reference to the gods. Here is a love that makes distinctions, choosing its objects freely. Hence it is especially the love of a higher for a lower. It is active, not self-seeking love. Yet in the Greek writers the word is colorless. It is often used as a variation of erán or phileín and commands no special discussion. The noun agápē occurs very seldom. (Gerhard Kittel [1888-1948] and Gerhard Friedrich [1908-1986], Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Volume I, 35-55)

Though scarcely used in classical Greek, agápē becomes more common in the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Old Testament. Pamela J. Scalise (b. 1950) attributes:

In the Septuagint...words from the root ’hb are translated by forms of agapaō/agapē “love.” The usage of agapaō in the Septuagint helped to shape the distinctive New Testament meaning of the term. (Watson E. Mills [b. 1939], Mercer Dictionary of the Bible, 528)

Wendell Willis (b. 1943) updates:

Of the several Greek words that mean “love,” by far the most common in the New Testament is the agápē family. While Christians did not create the word...they did make it a defining word for Christian life and teaching. Within the New Testament the verb form is more frequent. The use of agápē is most prominent in the writings of John (ca. one third of the total uses). (David Noel Freedman [1922-2008], Eerdmans Dictionary of the Bible, 27)

Contrary to popular belief, the term’s innate meaning does not entail a uniquely Christian love. D.A. Carson (b. 1946) explicates:

The meaning of love described in this chapter is not intrinsic to the noun ἀγάπη (agapē) or its cognate verb ἀγαπάω (agapaō). Of course, this verdict is contrary to popular opinion, which often suggests that this word is chosen in the Scriptures over other words for “love” because only this word group captures the determined love of God that seeks the other’s good. Linguistically that is not true: the development of the various terms for love has been well and amusingly chronicled by Robert Joly [b. 1922]...In the Septuagint, if Amnon incestuously loves his half-sister Tamar, the verb can be ἀγαπάω (agapaō; II Samuel 13:1). In John’s gospel, we are twice told that the Father loves the Son: one passage using ἀγαπάω (agapaō) [John 3:35] and the other ψιλέω (phileō) [John 5:20]...When he details that Demas has forsaken him because he loved this world, Paul does not think it inappropriate to use the verb ἀγαπάω (agapaō; II Timothy 4:10). These examples could be multiplied...There is nothing intrinsic to a particular word group that makes its version of love particularly divine...This is far from saying that there is nothing distinctive about God’s love or about Christian love. There is; but if we want to discover what that difference is, we shall find it less in a distinctive semantic range of a particular word group than in the descriptions and characteristics of love given in the Scriptures. (Carson, Showing the Spirit: A Theological Exposition of 1 Corinthians 12-14, 64)

The love that Paul describes is counter-cultural. Pheme Perkins (b. 1945) contrasts:

Some scholars compare this brief speech in praise of agapē to a somewhat longer one celebrating the beneficent effects of Eros in Plato [427-347 BCE]’s Symposium (Raymond F. Collins [b. 1935] 1999, 479). Though there is some overlap between the beneficent effects of Eros and the virtues that flow from agapē, agapē lacks those notes of sexual passion, attraction to what is fine or beautiful, elegance, and luxury. One can imagine the city’s wealthy elite charmed by poetic celebrations of Eros. It has no place for the ugly, unsophisticated, lowborn, or impoverished—in short, for those members of Christ’s body whom Paul has endowed with greater honor (I Corinthians 12:24). By adopting a little-used noun, agapē, Christians could reorchestrate the cultural discourse about love as a divine gift. This small passage of ornamental prose, whether composed by the apostle or taken from familiar tradition, replaces the praises of love familiar to his audience from their childhood. (Perkins, First Corinthians (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 154)

Craig L. Blomberg (b. 1955) resolves:

Taken together, I Corinthians 13:4-7 clearly portray[s] love as selfless, seeking the good of the other first and foremost. “Love is what God in Christ has shown and done for ‘others’ in their helpless plight and hapless estate as sinners. In love we take God’s side, share his outlook and implement his designs; and we treat our neighbors as we know God has treated us (see Romans 15:1-7).” (Blomberg, 1 Corinthians (The NIV Application Commentary), 259)

This variety of love is not coercive. Gerd Theissen (b. 1943) comments:

From I Corinthians 13 we...come to know the new “reinforcement system” of Paul, which is only imperfectly operative even among Christians. One characteristic is striking here. As a rule, Paul motivates love and solitary behavior extrinsically. He appeals to authorities like the law (Galatians 5:14; Romans 13:8-10) — to moral stimuli, in other words. He threatens negative consequences in case of unloving behavior (cf. Galatians 5:21). He invokes the model of Christ (Romans 15:7). But in I Corinthians 13, he leaves behind all these extrinsic forms of motivation. Every allusion to the Old Testament is lacking, as is every appeal to a word of the Lord, or argumentation on the basis of authoritative tribunal. If there is a demand of love — if, in the language of learning theory, there is anything that “stimulates” love — then this occurs through presentation of loving behavior and through nothing else. (Wayne G. Rollins [b. 1929] and D. Andrew Kille [b. 1950], “Psychological Aspects of Pauline Theology”, Psychological Insight Into the Bible: Texts and Readings, 67)

N.T. Wright (b. 1948) pronounces:

The description Paul gives in I Corinthians 13:4-7 is not an account of what Hollywood means by ‘love’...Nor is what Paul is talking about the same thing as we mean when we say ‘I love tennis,’ or ‘I love the colour orange’...No: what Paul has in mind is something which, though like our other loves in some ways, goes as far beyond them as sunlight goes beyond candles or electric light. (Wright, Paul For Everyone: 1 Corinthians, 172)

Though Paul has a lofty view of love it is worth noting that, contrary to its appearance in countless wedding liturgies, Paul does not reference feelings when describing love. There is little romantic sentimentalism, no pretense of feel good, affectionate warm fuzzies. Instead the apostle describes actions, a way of life.

Though not explicit, Renate Egger-Wenzel (b. 1961) and Jeremy Corley (b. 1959) detect an emotional component:

Oda Wischmeyer [b. 1944] considers I Corinthians as the canticle of love, a term encompassing both emotion and ethics. Previous studies of this text have focused on the apostle’s ethical teaching while neglecting the emotional component. Although the passions can be a negative term for the apostle (Romans 1:26; I Thessalonians 4:5), letters such as Second Corinthians show that he can employ emotions for a rhetorical purpose. For Paul, rhetoric links the ethical and the emotional understanding of love. While we cannot prove how far Paul shared Aristotle [384-322 BCE]’s understanding of emotions, it is useful to compare I Corinthians 13:4-7 on agapē (“love”) with a passage in Aristotle’s Rhetoric (2.2-11) on philia (“friendship”), since in both cases the ethical teaching includes an emotional element as part of the persuasive rhetoric. (Egger-Wenzel and Corley, (Emotions from Ben Sira to Paul, ix)

Even with an emotional aspect, Paul’s depiction of love does not include preference or factor in who is one’s friend. Instead, love is the glue that impartially keeps Christians unified despite a myriad of land mines lying in wait to blow the community apart.

Jesus is the embodiment of this love. Kenneth L. Chafin (1926-2001) recognizes:

Just as God’s love was not an abstract concept but one that was acted out in His revelation of Himself in Jesus Christ, so the love of which Paul writes is spelled out in concrete, do-able definitions. (Chafin, 1, 2 Corinthians (Mastering the New Testament), 158)

Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) submits:

It is often pointed out that in this paragraph Paul seems best to capture the life and ministry of Jesus. So much so that one could substitute his name for the noun “love” and thereby describe love in a more personal way. After doing so, however, one does not want to miss Paul’s point, which ultimately is description for the purpose of exhortation. Perhaps that point could best be captured by putting one’s own name in place of the noun, “love,” and not neglecting thereafter to find a proper place for repentance and forgiveness. (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 640)

I Corinthians 13:4-7 comes to a logical climax in its final verse (I Corinthians 13:7).

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (I Corinthians 13:4-7 NASB)

Richard B. Hays (b. 1948) relays:

After telling us what love is not, Paul ends this unit with four strong verbs that characterize positively the action of agapē...“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (I Corinthians 13:7). Paul has already used the first of these verbs to characterize his own conduct as an apostle: he will “bear anything rather than put an obstacle in the way of the gospel of Christ” (I Corinthians 9:12, author’s translation). This observation strengthens the impression that grows on the reader throughout this section: if the Corinthians embody the antithesis of agapē, Paul himself models authentic agapē in his long-suffering apostolic role. Paul shows them “a more excellent way” not only through his word-picture of love but also through his example, which he wants them to imitate (I Corinthians 11:1). (Hays, First Corinthians (Interpretation: a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 228)

D.A. Carson (b. 1946) charts:

I Corinthians 13:7 sums up, and is characterized by the word always. Oda Wischmeyer [b. 1944] convincingly demonstrates that the repetition of the word (eight times in I Corinthians 13:1-7, and rendered “all” or “always”) is polemical. Paul is responding to the Corinthians deep commitment to...overly realized eschatology...They take the view that “all things are permitted” (see I Corinthians 4:8, 6:12) since the eschatological reign has begun. But, responds Paul in I Corinthians 13:7, Christian love still always endures...always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres: that is part of the voluntary curtailment of personal freedom love demands, already discussed by Paul earlier in this epistle (especially I Corinthians 8:1-9:27). Christian love always endures. (Carson, Showing the Spirit: A Theological Exposition of 1 Corinthians 12-14, 63)

Richard A. Horsley (b. 1939) hears:

In the last set of the acts section, I Corinthians 13:7, as in the beginning and end of the comparison section, I Corinthians 13:8a and I Corinthians 13:3, Paul does become more purely rhapsodic. Here his tone is no longer ironic, and he seems to be glorifying the qualities that he himself most values. The repeated “all things” creates the effect. The form verbs form a chiasmus, the middle two (“believes” and “hopes”) focused on the future in an intense trust and hope that enables endurance and perseverance (“bears” and “endures”) in the present. (Horsley, 1 Corinthians (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 177)

Paul uses interconnected, powerful verbs to characterize love. Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) posits:

The verbs are elpizō “hope (for),” and hypomenō, “remain (behind), hold out, endure,” i.e., Christian love knows no hopeless causes and no fading of its hopes, because it does not despair of the future. Moreover, it holds fast as it tolerates all things in its trust of the neighbor and is not crushed by coldness. See Romans 8:24b, 12:12). (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (The Anchor Bible), 497)

Paul concludes that love “endures all things” (ESV, HCSB, NASB, NKJV, NRSV, RSV), “endureth all things” (ASV, KJV), “endures through every circumstance” (NLT), “always perseveres” (NIV) or “keep[s] going to the end” (MSG) (I Corinthians 13:7d). It goes to the end and there is no end (I Corinthians 13:13).

The Greek word behind “endures” is hypoménō. Robert E. Picirilli (b. 1932) defines:

Endures all things. This verb (Greek hupomeno) literally means to stay or bear up under. It can be compared with the first quality in this list, longsuffering [I Corinthians 13:4]. Only where longsuffering looks primarily to patience with people, this word looks especially to perseverance under trial. Love is constant, steadfast, persevering. “No hardship or rebuff ever makes love cease to be love” (C.K. Barrett [1917-2011] 305). (Picirilli, 1,2 Corinthians (Randall House Bible Commentary), 190)

The word has disparate nuances. Friederich Hauck (1868-1955) ranks:

Hypoménō has the senses a. “to stay behind,” “to stay alive,” b. “to expect,” c. “to stand firm,” and d. “to endure,” “to bear,” “to suffer.” (Gerhard Kittel [1888-1948] and Gerhard Friedrich [1908-1986], Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Volume 4, 582)

The clause speaks to the “for worse” of traditional wedding vows. David E. Garland (b. 1947) pinpoints:

“Endures all things” (πάντα ὑπομένει, panta hypomeni) refers to love’s ability to hold out during trouble and affliction (cf. II Corinthians 6:4, 12:12; II Timothy 2:10). (Garland, 1 Corinthians (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 620)

Kenneth E. Bailey (b. 1930) dissects:

Again Paul uses a compound word. In this case the term he chooses is hupo-meno. Hupo has to do with “under” and meno means “to remain.” As a compound, this word describes “The affliction under which one remains steadfast.” If makrothumia is the patience of the powerful, hypomene is the patience of the weak who unflinchingly endure suffering. The example of Mary standing silently at the foot of the cross is a matchless demonstration for every Christian of this crucial form of patient love [John 19:25-27]. Mary can do nothing to change the horrible events taking place around her. Her only choice is to exercise hupomene and at great cost remain rather than depart that scene of suffering. Jesus himself is the supreme example of the same virtue. (Bailey, Paul Through Mediterranean Eyes: Cultural Studies in 1 Corinthians, 368)

William D. Mounce (b. 1953) catalogs:

Hympomenē refers to perseverance in the face of hostile forces. Job, for example, manifested great endurance in the midst of his afflictions from Satan (Job 5:11). This characteristic is pleasing to God: “To those who by persistence in doing good seek glory, honor, and immortality, he will give eternal life” (Romans 2:7). Here hympomenē can be understood either in an active (steady persistence in doing good) or a passive (patient endurance under difficulties) sense. Hympomenē in a passive sense is used in Romans 12:12, where it is connected with persecution: “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer” (see also I Thessalonians 1:3: “endurance inspired by hope”). The connection with hope sets hympomenē in the context of end-time expectation where believers endure to the end because of their hope in the Lord’s coming. Hympomenē is not a characteristic of hope, but of love (I Corinthians 13:7) and the service of Christian workers (I Timothy 6:11; II Timothy 3:10). Furthermore, hympomenē produces character (Romans 5:3-5; James 1:3-4; II Peter 1:6) and is associated with the virtue of patience (Colossians 1:11; James 5:7-11). (Mounce, Mounce’s Complete Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Words, 214)

Love has staying power. It is built to last. Anthony C. Thiselton (b. 1937) concludes:

Finally, ὑπομένει refers to an endurance of setbacks and rebuffs which never gives up on people, whatever they do. This again bears the stamp of Paul’s enduring concern for the people of Corinth. (Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Greek Testament Commentary), 1060)

The term has military roots. Charles Hodge (1797-1878) relays:

The Greek word is really a military word and means to sustain the assault of an enemy. Hence it is used in the New Testament to express the idea of sustaining assaults of suffering or persecution, in the sense of bearing up under them and enduring them patiently (II Timothy 2:10; Hebrews 10:32, 12:2). (Hodge, 1 Corinthians (Crossway Classic Commentaries), 240)

The word connotes holding one’s position at all costs, even if the battle is lost, even unto death. The word pictures an overwhelmed army surrounded by superior forces instructed with the final command, “Stand your ground! And if necessary, die well!”

Jill Briscoe (b. 1934) illustrates:

The word translated “endure” is hupomeno and is a military term. The idea is to endure hardship like a good soldier of Jesus Christ...During the Second World War, the HMS Eskimo was torpedoed and literally sliced in half. Half of it sank immediately. The boat had been built in two halves for this very reason, so half a ship came home...It seemed that all of England was waiting on the dockside to welcome what was left of the HMS Eskimo! The surviving half of the ship limped into port with the sailors standing erect and saluting as the national anthem was played...So shall some of us come home to God. (Briscoe, Love that Lasts, 142)

Another historical example of such endurance comes from the exploits of Union officer Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain (1828-1914) at the Battle of Gettysburg during the American Civil War (July 1-3, 1863). On the second day of the battle, sensing vulnerability in a depleted Union army, Confederates assaulted the Union left flank. Chamberlain, commanding the 20th Maine, was deployed to the southern slope of Little Round Top by Colonel Strong Vincent (1837-1863), at the far left end of the Union line. Understanding the strategic significance of the small hill, Chamberlain knew he must hold his position at all costs. The men from Maine waited until troops from the 15th Alabama Infantry regiment, under Colonel William C. Oates (1835-1910), charged up the hill, attempting to flank the Union position. The Confederates repeatedly struck until the 20th Maine was almost doubled back upon itself. With heavy casualties and little ammunition, Colonel Chamberlain refused to retreat. He instead ordered his left wing to initiate a bayonet charge. Chamberlain sustained two slight wounds in the battle and for his “daring heroism and great tenacity in holding his position on the Little Round Top against repeated assaults, and carrying the advance position on the Great Round Top”, Chamberlain was awarded the Medal of Honor. The position was simply too important to not endure all things to the end.

Some have seen God as the only entity capable of this level of enduring love. William A. Beardslee (1916-2001) evaluates:

It is possible that the second series [I Corinthians 13:4-7] is intended to move in the direction of less and less possible mutual interchange, down to the point where there is nothing left that one can do but endure. Some interpreters (especially Karl Barth [1886-1968]) have made the point that this section sets love, in which God is in action, over against the human; the human is represented by the anger, boasting, reckoning up of grievances, etc., that are expressed in the negatives. This interpretation fits well with what Paul says about human behavior elsewhere, for instance in Romans 1 and 2 [Romans 1:1-2:29]. But here Paul does not make the distinction between the human way and God’s way. He remains within the Wisdom language that speaks of human ways of acting, good and bad. (Beardslee, First Corinthians: A Commentary for Today, 126-27)

Its perseverance is confirmation that love carries eternal intentions. Thomas Dubay (1921-2010) declares:

Anyone who has been in love knows quite well that the intent of genuine love is an eternal intent. If a normal man and woman agree to “marry for awhile” or “as long as things work out”, of one thing we can be confident: they are not in love, at least not in the full human and divine sense of the term. C.S. Lewis [1898-1963] put it well when he remarked, “Love makes vows unasked.” Scripture reflects this truth in its insistence on unending fidelity to the beloved. “Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm; for stern as death is love, relentless as the nether world is devotion; its flames are a blazing fire. Deep water cannot quench love...” (Song of Solomon 8:6-7). In his famous chapter on love Saint Paul writes that love “endures whatever comes”, for it “does not come to an end” (I Corinthians 13:7-8). (Dubay, “And You Are Christ’s”: The Charism of Virginity and the Celibate Life, 64)

Paul asserts that there are no limits to love’s perseverance: it endures is all things (Greek: panta). I Corinthians 13:7 uses a fourfold repetition of panta to highlight this point.

J. William Johnston (b. 1968) scrutinizes:

The four instances of πάντα in I Corinthians 13:7 can be taken as direct objects of the verbs: “It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (NET)...The G1-type construction in the neuter plural can act as a generalized substantival direct object. Since all the verbs in I Corinthians 13:7 can be used transitively, this is the first impression. Perhaps πάντα is used in the generalized sense, “everything,” the contours of which are left unexpressed (José María Bover [1877-1954]’s “Sentido de colectividad indeterminada”), but whose referent is implied within the scope of Christian duty or the expectations God has for believers...The G1-type construction in the neuter plural can often have the adverbial sense when it occurs within intransitive verbs. Such a sense is possible here, as commentators point out. W. Kendrick Grobel [1908-1965] suggests that all four occurrences of πάντα should be rendered adverbially. (Johnston, The Use of Πας in the New Testament, 157)

D.A. Carson (b. 1946) footnotes:

Some have taken πάντα to mean “always”: love always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres, perhaps with overtones of eschatological promise. Syntactically such an interpretation cannot be ruled out. But I Corinthians 13:7 reads more coherently with what precedes it than with what succeeds it; and if I Corinthians 13:4-7 are read as a block, what is in focus in that paragraph is how Christian love acts now, not how long into the eschaton it will hold up. (Carson, Showing the Spirit: A Theological Exposition of 1 Corinthians 12-14, 63)

Anthony C. Thiselton (b. 1937) determines:

This fourfold πάντα serves to convey “the absence of all limits” (Jean Héring [1890-1966]). It thus excludes the limits of ἀγάπη rather than defining an all-inclusive content. The Revised English Bible is the only major VS to appreciate that this is best rendered in modern English by negating a series of negations: there is no limit to its faith, its hopes, its endurance. (Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Greek Testament Commentary), 1056)

This love carries no expiration date. It is a “love is a love without end, amen.”

Many have connected the reason for love’s endurance to the rest of the verse (I Corinthians 13:7). Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) clarifies:

The middle verbs reflect the other two members of the triad found in I Corinthians 13:13. In saying “love always believes” and “hopes,” Paul does not mean that love always believes the best about everyone, but that love never ceases to have faith; it never loses hope. This is why it can endure. (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 640)

Augustine (354-430) deduces:

The reason it endures all things in the present life is that if believes all things about the life to come. And it endures all things sent against it here because it hopes all things that are promised here. It is only right that it never ends (I Corinthians 13:8). Therefore, pursue love, and by meditating on it in holiness bring forth the fruits of righteousness. (Judith L. Kovacs [b. 1945], 1 Corinthians: Interpreted by Early Christian Commentators, 220)

David Prior (b. 1940) professes:

Whatever happens, we hang on because it all has purpose. God is chiselling out in us the image of his Son, Jesus. Oswald Chambers [1874-1917] has written: ‘God’s batterings always come in commonplace ways and through commonplace people.’ Only love for God, released by his love for us, can keep such faith and hope alive and in control of our daily lives. When we realize afresh that Jesus loves us in this way – he bears everything we throw at him, he still believes in us and is quietly confident for us, he has endured even the cross for us – then we take heart again and know that only his love can sustain us and make us the people, the local churches, he wants us to become. (Prior, The Message of 1 Corinthians (Bible Speaks Today), 232-33)

This eternal quality considerably raises the degree of difficulty. Richard L. Pratt, Jr. (b. 1953) appraises:

Loving someone is easy when the other person does not challenge one’s affections by offending or failing. Love’s quality becomes evident when it must endure trials. The New Testament encourages to persevere in their Christian walks (I John 5:2-5). Here Paul had in mind particularly the need to persevere in love for others. Christians should look to the length and perseverance of Christ’s love as the standard for their own. (Pratt, I & II Corinthians (Holman New Testament Commentary), 233)

Augustine (354-430) infers:

The greater the love of God that the saints possess, the more they endure all things for him. (Gerald Bray [b. 1948], 1-2 Corinthians (Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture), 133)

Though challenging, this degree of perseverance is always worthwhile. Roy E. Ciampa (b. 1958) and Brian S. Rosner (b. 1959) implore:

Love never gives up. It never quits. It never dies or comes to extinction. It perseveres or endures through all the challenges of this life and finds itself alive and well in all the ages to come. As Gaston Deluz [b. 1912] puts it, “Like Christ on the cross, love endures scorn, failure, ingratitude...At the end shines out the light of Easter. For love never ends.” It is never a mistake to replicate the love of Jesus Christ in our relationships with those around us since it is that love and those loving actions which have eternal significance (cf. I Corinthians 13:1-3) and whose influence and benefits will reach into eternity after all else has melted away and failed to endure the final transition to the ultimate manifestation of the kingdom of God. (Ciampa and Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 651)

Performing persevering love allows Christians to maintain the community that is so vital to the faith. In doing so, they also follow the will and example of Christ to love even to the point of death.

Who do you know who embodies the type of love described by Paul in the Love Chapter? Should there be a difference in the way that God loves the church and the way that Christians do? Would couples be so quick to choose this ode to love at their weddings if they considered its ramifications? Why can love endure? Does I Corinthians 13:7 imply that love can thrive even under adverse circumstances? If love endures all things why do so many marriages fail (I Corinthians 13:7)? How does a relationship with Jesus affect this endurance? How would you describe love? Is the Love Chapter a realistic portrait of love?

Paul’s view of love has faced a great deal of criticism. Marion L. Soards (b. 1952) explains:

In short, love defines and directs Christian life, although Paul’s meditative mood is too poetic to allow him to make such a conventional declaration. The problem with Paul’s own elegant description of love is that later misreadings and misuses of this contemplation reinterpret love as if it were being gullible or welcoming abuse. In fact, the description Paul gives in I Corinthians 13:4-7 is of God’s love, which transcends the boundaries of selfishness or self-centeredness in the righteous pursuit of reconciliation and redemption (I Corinthians 1:1-31, 4:1-21). The call to Christians is to live by the grace and power of God in such a way that God’s own love forms and directs life so that God’s love becomes the Christians’ love. (Soards, 1 Corinthians (New International Biblical Commentary), 274)

Anthony C. Thiselton (b. 1937) defends:

The traditional translations invite the kind of misunderstandings of Paul and indeed of Christianity which fuel the critiques of Ludwig Feuerbach [1804-1872], Karl Marx [1818-1883], Friedrich Nietzsche [1844-1900], and Sigmund Freud [1856-1939]. The well-known AV/KJV and RV rendering beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things endureth all things appears to support Marx’s notion of Christianity as the opium of the people, or Nietzsche’s concept of Christianity as “servile mediocrity.” Paul’s notion of cross and of love, Nietzsche asserts, “has sided with everything weak, low and botched; it has made ideal out of antagonism towards...strong life...the will to nothingness sanctified.” For Nietzsche, Paul was “full of superstition and cunning”. For, by reinterpreting language about the law, he became “the destroyer of the Law” and thereby of criteria other than self-construed outlooks: “Morality itself was blown away, annihilated...‘I am above the Law’, thinks Paul.” If Paul enjoins his readers to bear, believe, hope and endure everything, Nietzsche can say “truth has been turned topsy-turvy...transvaluation of all values!” while Michel Foucault [1926-1984] can perceive it as the promotion of conformist “docility”, Marx construes it as “opium”, and Freud as a projection derived from inner conflict resolved by wishful thinking which “believes all things,” in order to “endure all things”...None of this, however, accords with Paul. It is Corinth who coins the slogan, “All thing are lawful” [I Corinthians 10:23]; “We reign as kings [I Corinthians 4:8].” It is Paul who insists on discrimination and differentiation, especially in prophecy and worship. Moreover ἀγάπη is precisely not “docile” or conformist; it does not seek a quiet life by “servile mediocrity”. Anders Nygren [1890-1978]’s exposition of Paul’s theology reveals the reverse: it is creative, innovative, transforming and indifferent to “returns” in the sense of lacking the very “interests” on which the analyses of Feuerbach, Marx, Nietzsche and Freud depend. (Thiselton, Thiselton on Hermeneutics: Collected Works with New Essays, 331-32)

Kenneth L. Chafin (1926-2001) corrects:

The picture of “endures all things” (I Corinthians 13:7) is much more than passive endurance. Love allows us to remain true in the most adverse circumstances and even to transform the situation by enduring. (Chafin, 1, 2 Corinthians (Mastering the New Testament), 165)

William Barclay (1907-1978) adds:

The word used here (hupomenein) is one of the great Greek words. It is generally translated as to bear or to endure; but what it really describes is not the spirit which can passively bear things, but the spirit which, in bearing them, can conquer and change their very nature. The Scottish minister and hymn-writer George Matheson [1842-1906], who lost his sight and who was disappointed in love, wrote in one of his prayers that he might accept God’s will ‘Not with dumb resignation but with holy joy; not only with the absence of murmur but with a song of praise.’ Love can bear things not merely with passive resignation, but with triumphant fortitude, because it knows that ‘a father’s hand will never cause his child a needless tear’. (Barclay, The Letters to the Corinthians (New Daily Bible Study), 146)

As love endures all things it does not simply take abuse. It has the potential to transform both the lover and the lover’s life.

How can persevering love transform the circumstances? What are the situational benefits to endurance? When has enduring love transformed a situation; did this kind of love motivate the Civil Rights movement? Does endurance characterize your love?

“Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds.”
– William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnet 116

Days Old Bread (Ecclesiastes 11:1)

Complete: “Cast your _____ upon the waters, for you will find it after many days.” Bread (Ecclesiastes 11:1)

Ecclesiastes is a philosophical exploration into the meaning of life written by an author who identifies himself as Koholeth (Ecclesiastes 1:1). This title is typically translated as “the Preacher” (ASV, ESV, KJV, NASB, NKJV, RSV) or “the Teacher” (HCSB, NIV, NLT, NRSV). Counter intuitively, Koholeth advises his readers to move from the normal bread and water to depositing bread on water (Ecclesiastes 11:1).

Cast your bread on the surface of the waters, for you will find it after many days. (Ecclesiastes 11:1 NASB)

This passage has become very well known. Robert Davidson (1927-2012) informs:

The opening verse in this section [Ecclesiastes 11:1] is a famous and much quoted verse, particularly in the form in which it appears in the RSV and in earlier English translations. (Davidson, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Solomon (Daily Bible Study Series), 78)

The expression has found its way into the literary lexicon. David Lyle Jeffrey (b. 1941) documents:

The injunction is to disinterested benevolence; as the Glossa Ordinaria cryptically notes, “aptos fructificationi” (Patrologia Latina 113.1125). This is the sense employed by Mark Twain [1835-1910] in The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg, where Mrs. Richards learns of the reward left for whoever had played Good Samaritan to the stranger, calling it “a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon the waters!” In 20th-century literature the expression more often has ironic overtones, as when George Bernard Shaw [1856-1950] in Village Wooing uses it as a pretext for extravagant spending. O. Henry [1862-1910]’s card shark reflects on the returns of what he “had cast upon the waters” — the deck he has marked in code (“The Man Higher Up”). And Somerset Maugham [1874-1965]’s narrator adverts to “the philanthropist who with altruistic motives builds model dwellings for the poor and finds he has made a lucrative investment. He cannot prevent the satisfaction he feels in the ten per cent which rewards the bread he has cast upon the waters, but he has an awkward feeling that he detracts somewhat from the savor of his virtue.” (“The Fall of Edward Barnard”). (Jeffrey, A Dictionary of Biblical Tradition in English Literature, 105)

Eric S. Christianson shares:

Novelist Louise Erdrich [b. 1954] recognizes the passage’s implicit and poetic urging of generosity: “If I were to choose a passage most valuable to me from Ecclesiastes, I wouldn’t choose the face-to-the-wall, sulking all is weariness, the soul cannot utter it, and there is nothing new under the sun [Ecclesiastes 1:8-9]. I’d choose the line that has something to do with trusting an instinct for generosity, Cast thy bread upon the waters [Ecclesiastes 11:1]. For the image of a man or a woman standing in a boat or on the shore and throwing bread at the waves makes no sense and yet speaks volumes, as does the best poetry.” (1995: 237) (Christianson, Ecclesiastes Through the Centuries, 220)

Despite the aphorism’s prominence, its meaning is elusive and its familiarity may have even clouded its substance. John T. Stevenson (b. 1953) recognizes:

We have come to use this phrase about casting bread upon the waters without thinking much of its meaning. Casting bread upon the waters meant either throwing it into a river or into the ocean. In either case, that is a good way to lose a loaf of bread. It does not seem to be the better part of wisdom. (Stevenson, Ecclesiastes: A Spiritual Journey, 121)

Though interpreting the verse is challenging, it is not the words which are problematic. Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) admits:

The translation of this verse is simple from a philological perspective, but its proverbial and metaphorical nature makes it difficult to understand. What does it mean to send your bread upon the waters? Even if one could find it after many days, what value would waterlogged bread be anyway? In spite of its uncertain interpretation, the image finds use even in twentieth-century American language, registering a kind of vague hope for a risky investment. (Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes (New International Commentary on th Old Testament), 255)

E.H. Plumptre (1821-1891) observes:

The book, as it draws nearer to its close, becomes more and more enigmatic, and each single verse is as a parable and dark saying. It is not to be wondered at, in such a case, that interpreters should, after their nature, read their own thoughts between the lines and so “find what they have sought.” (Plumptre, Ecclesiastes (The Cambridge Bible For Schools), 204)

The passage instructs the reader to “cast” (ASV, ESV, KJV, NASB, NKJV, RSV), “send” (HCSB, NLT, NRSV) or “ship” (NIV) one’s bread upon the waters. The Hebrew term is shâlach.

Craig G. Bartholomew (b. 1961) corrects:

Šalah is in the Piel stem and means “to send” or “to release” but not “to throw” or “to cast,” as is often translated. (Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes (Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms), 334)

Dave L. Bland (b. 1953) concurs:

The word the NIV translates “cast” (שלח, šālah) does not mean to throw out or scatter but to “send,” to “let go.” (Bland, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, & Song of Songs (The College Press NIV Commentary), 386)

Michael V. Fox (b. 1940) expounds:

Šallah: ŠLH-piel usually means “to release,” occasionally “to send.” It nowhere means “to throw” (an object). (ŠLH-piel is once used of shooting an arrow [I Samuel 20:20; the direct object is implicit], but an arrow may be said to be “released.” Thus Ecclesiastes 11:1a suggests the image of a person placing or dropping his bread on the water and letting it float away, rather than throwing it into the water. The image of letting something go rather than throwing it accords better with the preposition ‘al peney, literally “on the surface of” (rather than bammayim or ’el tok hammayim). “Sending” or just “letting go” (šallah) is a gentler, less goal-directed action that “casting.” (Fox, A Time to Tear Down and a Time to Build Up: A Rereading of Ecclesiastes, 313-14)

James L. Crenshaw (b. 1934) perceives:

The verb šālah occurs in connection with bayyām and ‘al-penê-mayim in Isaiah 18:2 (haššōlēah bayyām sîrîm ûbiklê-gōme ‘al-penê-mayim, “who sends ambassadors on the Nile and in vessels of papyrus on the waters”)...In light of the alliteration in hammāyim and hayyāmîm one may discern a reason for Qohelet’s use of the verb šālah, the final syllable of which is repeated in the initial syllable of the word for bread (šallah lahmekā). (Crenshaw, Ecclesiastes: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 178-79)

Charles Francis Whitley relays:

Frank Zimmerman...claims that the meaning becomes clarified if we see it in its original Aramaic form. Regarding the use of שלח with “bread” as unusual, he thinks that it arose from a misunderstanding of the Aramaic verb פרם. This could mean “spread out” as the sails of a vessel, or it could mean “break”, from which nominal forms occur with the meaning “bread”. The translator took the second meaning here, and so offers לחמד in our text. He should, however, argues Zimmermann, have rendered: “Set your sail upon the waters...”. But if we are to suppose that “bread” was originally “sail” or “ship” there would be little point in the proverbial saying. A ship setting out to sea would normally be expected to make a successful voyage, and there would be nothing remarkable in its safe return to port. On the other hand, “bread” thrown upon the water would be expected to disintegrate and disappear; but our text states that, contrary to expectation, it will be found again. (Whitley, Koheleth, 92-93)

The bread in question should not be envisioned as the modern loaf as this passage was penned before sliced bread was the best thing. Ellen F. Davis (b. 1950) clarifies:

The image is powerful, although it requires some translation for modern ears. Ancient bread was not made in large loaves, which would sink immediately. What is envisioned is a pita, a thin, flat and probably hard disc that will float at least briefly on the current, until it is carried out of sight. Rashi [1040-1105] captures the sense well: “Do good, act kindly to the person whom your heart tells you, ‘You’ll never see him again’—like a person who throws his sustenance upon the surface of the water.” The logic is staggering. Not only should you give without certainty of repayment; you should give with the fair certainty of not being repaid. (Davis, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs (Westminster Bible Companion), 219-20)

Koholeth intentionally appeals to a dietary fundamental. Daniel J. Treier (b. 1972) comments:

Bread is a basic staple of life, and its appearance as the verse’s commodity signals just how seriously the Sage takes lack of knowledge about the future. The trader is not playing with house money, but having to jeopardize the very foundations of his livelihood. If the venture fails, he does not eat. (Treier, Proverbs & Ecclesiastes (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 216)

Though bread has many assets, being waterproof is not among them. The likelihood of it returning is slim and the chances of it retaining its usefulness is less; day old bread is sold at a reduced cost for a reason.

This is not the only paradox implicit in Koheleth’s prescription (Ecclesiastes 11:1). Michael V. Fox (b. 1940) notifies:

To send forth one’s bread “upon the waters” means giving it up, surrendering expectation of personal benefit from it. Yet, paradoxically, if you do this you can expect to benefit. (Fox, Ecclesiastes (JPS Bible Commentary), 72)

Given these absurdities, interpretations take very different trajectories. Kathleen A. Farmer (b. 1943) introduces:

Some readers interpret this figurative language in mercenary terms. Thus, TEV renders Ecclesiastes 11:1 as “Invest your money in foreign trade, and one of these days you will make a profit,” and the NEB says, “Send your grain across the seas, and in time you will get a return.” Some think it refers to an agricultural practice (such as broadcast sowing), and others have interpreted it in terms of charity or good deeds. (Farmer, Proverbs & Ecclesiastes: Who Knows what is Good? (International Theological Commentary), 190)

The traditional view contends that the verse addresses charity. Jerry E. Shepherd follows:

From ancient times these verses [Ecclesiastes 11:1-2] were understood as an encouragement to charitable giving; this became the traditional interpretation. In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries a shift occurred to what became the dominant interpretation, namely, that the advice was to take risks with one’s investments, perhaps even overseas, but also to diversify those investments. Of late more commentators have returned to the traditional interpretation. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Proverbs~Isaiah (Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 350)

Scholarly opinion has long been divided. George Aaron Barton (1859-1942) reviews:

At least four interpretations have been suggested. (1) It has been taken by Martin Geier [1614-1680], J.D. Michaelis [1717-1791], Johann Christoph Döderlein [1746-1792], Moses Mendelssohn [1729-1786], Ferdinand Hitzig [1807-1875], Franz Delitzsch [1813-1890], Gerrit Wildeboer [1855-1911], Paul Haupt [1858-1926] and A.H. McNeile [1871-1933] to apply to trading. “Commit your goods to the sea and wait for your returns until long voyages are over.” (2) J.H. Van der Palm [1763-1840] and Christian Friedrich Bauer [1696-1752] took it to refer to agriculture, meaning, “Sow thy seed on moist places near water, and thou wilt obtain a rich harvest.” (3) Heinrich Graetz [1817-1891], in the same way, takes “bread” as equivalent to “seed,” but interprets it of the “seed” of human life, and so finds in the verse a maxim bordering on licentious. (4) It is taken by A.W. Knobel [1807-1863], Christian D. Ginsburg [1831-1914], Otto Zöckler [1833-1906], C.H.H. Wright [1836-1909], Wilhelm Nowack [1850-1928], Carl Siegfried [1830-1930] and J.T. Marshall [1850-1923] as an exhortation to liberality. (Barton, The Book of Ecclesiastes (International Critical Commentary), 181)

The scholarly divide is as pronounced today as it was in Barton’s era. Most contemporary interpreters claim the verse alludes either to business (James L. Crenshaw [b.1934] 178, Duane Garrett [b. 1953] 337, David A. Hubbard [1928-1996] 226, Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] 256, Roland Murphy [1917-2002] 106, Jerry E. Shepherd 350, Martin Sicker [b. 1931], Daniel J. Treier [b. 1972] 216) or charity (Robert Alter [b. 1935] 384, Dave L. Bland [b. 1953] 386-87, William P. Brown [b. 1958] 101, Ellen F. Davis [b. 1950] 219, Peter Enns [b. 1961] 118, Michael V. Fox [b. 1940] 72, Choon-Leong Seow [b.1952] 342).

The traditional view equates the verse with charity (Ecclesiastes 11:1). Martin A. Shields (b. 1965) apprises:

The traditional understanding of Ecclesiastes 11:1 is that it extols alms-giving or charity. The interpretation is evident in the Targum as well as in Gregory Thaumaturgos [213-270], Rashi [1040-1105], and Rashbam [1085-1158]. (Shields, The End of Wisdom: A Reappraisal of the Historical and Canonical Function of Ecclesiastes, 222)

Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) reports:

A popular interpretation understands the verse to refer to charity, a view that has been espoused from antiquity to modern times. The Targum, for instance, reads “Give your nourishing bread to the poor who go in ships upon the surface of the water, for after a period of many days you will find its reward in the world-to-come.” In support, modern scholars cite other ancient texts like “The Instructions of ‘Onkhsheshonqy” (19:10) and the Arabic proverb: “Do good, throw your bread on the waters, and one day you will be rewarded.” However, there is nothing in the verse itself that hints that Qohelet had charity in mind. The Arabic proverb could be influenced by the early charitable interpretation of Ecclesiastes. (Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes (New International Commentary on th Old Testament), 255-56)

Craig G. Bartholomew (b. 1961) supports:

A popular interpretation, going back to Jerome [347-420] and Targum, understands it to refer to acts of almsgiving or charity. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [1749-1832]’s lines in his West-östlicher Diwan witness to the enduring popularity of this reading: “Why do you want to find out where charity flows! Throw your bread into the water—who knows who will enjoy it?”...Ernst Wilhelm Hengstenberg [1802-1869] argues that by means of maritime trade imagery ‘the author admonishes us to secure by benevolence, and by putting completely away that covetous narrow-heartedness, which, in times of distress, so easily creeps into our heart.” Choon-Leong Seow [b.1952] similarly asserts, “The verse is not about foreign investments, but liberality.” (Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes (Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms), 335-36)

Robert Alter (b. 1935) defends:

Send out your bread upon the waters. These words initiate a series of prudential maxims on how to conduct one’s life in the face of the unpredictability of events and their deterministic character that is beyond human control. The sending out of bread on the waters is surely not advice about overseas investments, as some commentators have imagined, but rather a didactic metaphor. The proposal of Rashi [1040-1105], ibn Ezra [1089-1167] and other medieval commentators, that the reference is to acts of charity is perfectly plausible: perform acts of beneficence, for you never know when you yourself may benefit from having done them. The idea is then continued in the next verse: be generous to any number of people, for in the course of events you yourself may end up in need and enjoy a reciprocation of support from one of those you have helped. (Alter, The Wisdom Books: Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes: A Translation with Commentary, 384)

Michael V. Fox (b. 1940) continues:

Perform deeds of charity, Koheleth advises, giving alms and assistance to a number of people in need (“seven or...eight”). Though you do not know how your reward will come, it will. The “giving” may include more than charitable donations. Rashbam [1085-1158] paraphrases, “Do a favor for a man whom you never expect to benefit, because in the far future he will do a favor for you” (Rashbam)...The Midrash tells an anecdote of a man who was shipwrecked and washed ashore naked. Rabbi Bar Kappara took him home, fed him, and clothed him. He turned out to be a Roman proconsul, who at a later time acceded to the rabbi’s request to show mercy to some Jews who had been arrested...Ancient Wisdom Literature includes a number of parallels. The Egyptian instruction of Anckshehonq, a near contemporary of Ecclesiastes, says, “Do a good deed and throw it in the water; when it dries up you will find it.” This is close enough to Koheleth’s saying to indicate that he was using (and reshaping) a popular proverb. Ben Sira similarly advises: ‘Lose your money for the sake of a brother or friend, and don’t let it rust under a stone” (Sirach 29:10). The righteousness you store up instead of wealth will save you from all evil (Sirach 29:11-13l see also Sirach 3:31 and Psalms 112:9). (Fox, Ecclesiastes (JPS Bible Commentary), 72)

James L. Crenshaw (b. 1934) reports:

Diaz (in Merkwürdigkeiten von Asien) records a story that ends with an Arab proverb reminiscent of Qohelet’s advice (“Do good, cast thy bread upon the waters, and one day thou shalt be rewarded”). It appears that Qohelet’s advice was understood as referring to acts of charity. In ancient and medieval Jewish circles this interpretation became standard...A remarkable parallel occurs in The Instructions of ‘Onkhsheshonqy 19:10 (“Do a good deed and throw it in the water; when it dries you will find it”). Within the Bible, Proverbs 31:14 compares the virtuous woman with merchants’ ships, adding that mimmerhāq tābî lahmāh (“she brings her bread from afar”). (Crenshaw, Ecclesiastes: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 178-79)

If Koholeth is advocating charity, this line of thought departs from the book’s character. Eric S. Christianson lauds:

The call to ‘cast they bread upon the waters’ (Ecclesiastes 11:1) represents one of Qoheleth’s most unfettered instances of concern for others. Certainly the classical rabbis think so, as is particularly evident in Midrash Qoheleth on Ecclesiastes 11:1, which relates several examples of stories regarding the benefits of charity. Christians also respond to Qoheleth’s endorsement of giving. (Christianson, Ecclesiastes Through the Centuries, 219)

Mark R. Sneed (b. 1961) scrutinizes:

Unlike the sages of Proverbs, there is no clear noblesse oblige in Qohelet. He does reference the tears of the oppressed in Ecclesiastes 4:1 but nowhere counsels charity to the poor. But even this passage seems to be intended more as part of the cumulative data of the injustices of the powerful than as a genuinely empathetic concern for the oppressed. Though Choon-Leong Seow [b.1952] has argued that Ecclesiastes 11:1-2, which recommends casting bread upon water because it will return later, refers to charity, it more likely involves advising investment, perhaps in mercantile trade. At any rate, even if charity is the intent, a heavy utilitarian bent is involved here. Instead of focusing on charity for the poor, Qohelet seems to be more preoccupied with injustices done to members of his own or higher class (e.g. Ecclesiastes 6:1-6). (Sneed, The Politics of Pessimism in Ecclesiastes: A Social-Science Perspective, 150)

Some have seen a charitable reading as out of place in its immediate context as well. Daniel J. Treier (b. 1972) critiques:

This subject seems to change too abruptly from Ecclesiastes 10:20 to be primary. (Treier, Proverbs & Ecclesiastes (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 216)

Walter C. Kaiser, Jr. (b. 1933) counters:

As Christian D. Ginsburg [1831-1914] observed, Solomon, having just given us proverbs for dealing wisely with those above us, now gives us a proverb for dealing with those below us. Thus, he is encouraging hospitality and patient trust in the ultimate rewards of God according to His master plan. (Kaiser, Ecclesiastes: Total Life (Everyman’s Bible Commentary), 113)

The interpretation also has canonical parallels. Daniel J. Treier (b. 1972) associates:

Such an interpretation is popular in church history and similar to a positive spiritual interpretation of the parable of the dishonest steward: “Make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes” (Luke 16:1-13, especially Luke 16:9). (Treier, Proverbs & Ecclesiastes (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 215)

If Ecclesiastes is promoting charity, it is asserting there will be an eventual payoff for the act. This thought has echoes in Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain (Luke 6:38). A modern illustration might be the classic 1946 film It’s A Wonderful Life whereby George Bailey’s (played by Jimmy Stewart [1908-1997]) years of service to the town of Bedford Falls are rewarded when its residents pay off his debts.

A less famous example comes from the May 8, 1960, episode of the anthology drama The Loretta Young Show (1953-1961) titled “Faith, Hope and Mr. Flaherty”. In this installment, Loretta Young (1913-2000) portrays Sister Ann, a nun and worker at Mercy Hospital. Beginning with only 25¢, Sister Ann continually reinvests money given her. Eventually, Mr. Flaherty (played by J.M. Kerrigan [1884-1964]), an Irish curmudgeon and hospital patient, gives the nun five dollars for the hospital building fund. Sister Ann proceeds to “invest” the sum. This development continues and by the time that the program concludes, Sister Ann parlays the initial contribution into $20,000, and in the process blesses a lot of people as Mr. Flaherty merits a plaque for his generosity; Mrs. Spencer (Virginia Christine [1920-1996]) is able to adopt a baby; a man is saved from making a drastic marriage mistake; and another is able to pay his rent. The quarter’s continual returns through supernatural means fits the charitable interpretation of casting bread upon the waters (Ecclesiastes 11:1).

This reading has the flavor of kharma and carries limitations. Robert Davidson (1927-2012) cautions:

This is not an invitation to be generous so that you may reap a reward. That would be against the spirit of true generosity. That would be like counting the slices and weighing up whether you ought to give a slice away, rather than casting your bread upon the waters. You do not look for a reward when you are generous, but often, sometimes in unexpected ways, a reward comes. It is generous people, people who spend their lives giving of themselves to others, who find that, when they are in need, they have a host of friends. It is selfish people, who close their hearts to others, who end up finding that they may have plenty of this world’s goods but no real friends. (Davidson, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Solomon (Daily Bible Study Series), 78)

Dave L. Bland (b. 1953) calibrates:

Ecclesiastes 11:1 describes a spontaneous act of kindness done without thought of compensation...Releasing bread on the water symbolizes one who willingly takes risks in doing good to others. If reward comes, it comes as a surprise. The phrase you will find it again does not necessarily envision someone who diligently seeks out a treasure but one who unexpectedly comes upon a gift. The admonition calls on readers to send forth spontaneous deeds of kindness without expecting something in return. (Bland, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, & Song of Songs (The College Press NIV Commentary), 386-87)

Michael V. Fox (b. 1940) resolves:

“Find it” (timsa’ennu)...“Finding” can mean to come across something accidentally and does not necessarily entail a search. (Fox, A Time to Tear Down and a Time to Build Up: A Rereading of Ecclesiastes, 314)

The worst abuse of this reading is found in proponents of the “prosperity” gospel. David W. Jones (b. 1973) and Russell S. Woodbridge (b. 1967) reveal:

One of the most striking characteristics of prosperity teachers is their seeming fixation with the act of giving. Students of the prosperity gospel are urged to give generously...The driving force behind this emphasis on giving is what teacher Robert Tilton [b. 1946] referred to as the “Law of Compensation.” According to this law, which prosperity teachers derive from passages such as Ecclesiastes 11:1, Mark 10:30, II Corinthians 9:6, and Galatians 6:7, Christians need to give generously because when they do, God gives back more in return. This, in turn, leads to a cycle of ever-increasing prosperity. (Jones and Woodbridge, Health, Wealth & Happiness: Has the Prosperity Gospel Overshadowed the Gospel of Christ?, 65)

This reading bastardizes philanthropy, reducing it to a mere transaction. It removes the heart from charity and renders it a heady business proposition.

Another popular interpretation sees Koheleth conveying business principles: Business favors the bold. From this perspective, Ecclesiastes encourages taking calculated business risks. In this context, the next verse is a companion piece advising one to create a diversified investment portfolio (Ecclesiastes 11:2).

Martin Sicker (b. 1931) paraphrases:

Send forth your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it. [Ecclesiastes 11:1] No venture, no gain! However, he also advises that one take reasonable risks, and not risk all and hope for the best. He recommends diversification: Distribute portions to seven or even to eight, for you do not know what calamity might strike the land. [Ecclesiastes 11:2] In other words, he cautions against putting all one’s eggs in a single basket, because no one can predict with any certainty the effects of forces beyond one’s control on that proverbial basket of eggs. (Sicker, Kohelet: The Reflections of a Judean Prince : a New Translation and Commentary)

Craig G. Bartholomew (b. 1961) inspects:

A...line of interpretation, advocated by Franz Delitzsch [1813-1890], Robert Gordis [1908-1992], and many others, is that Qohelet here does refer to maritime trade. Finding support in verses like Isaiah 18:2, about a land “that sends [haššōlēah] ambassadors by the sea in vessels of papyrus on the waters [‘al-pēnê-mayim],” this approach argues that releasing one’s bread on the waters is a metaphor for trade. Ecclesiastes 11:2 would then refer to diversifying trade; literally it would mean dividing one’s cargo among several boats, which metaphorically would equate to enterprises. Such trade is risky, but it may yield a good reward—after many days, one may find it. (Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes (Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms), 336)

George R. Knight (b. 1941) adds:

In such enterprises the “after many days” was quite realistic. A delay often transpired before any profit resulted. For example, Solomon’s fleet returned every three years bringing its exotic and valuable cargo of “gold and silver, ivory and apes and peacocks” (I Kings 10:22). (Knight, Exploring Ecclesiastes & Song of Solomon: A Devotional Commentary, 127-28)

The relationship between the verse and its successor is tantamount to this reading (Ecclesiastes 11:1-2). Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) connects:

A similar structure associates Ecclesiastes 11:1 with Ecclesiastes 11:2, which, though it has its own difficulties, seems to be concerned with business transactions. Such a connection is the strongest argument in favor of those who understand Ecclesiastes 11:1 to refer to the calculated risks of business. In other words, it is saying that, in spite of the risks of loss involved, one should go ahead and engage in maritime trade. This view seems most likely in the context, bread (lehem), thus, stands for any kind of commodity of trade. The idea of the verse, then, is that, as people engage in trade, profits may flow back to them. Risk is involved, but reward may come. This view is widely held. (Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes (New International Commentary on th Old Testament), 256)

Jerry E. Shepherd contextualizes:

The investment scenario best fits the context of the passage and the thought of Qohelet as a whole. Qohelet has thus far demonstrated no real concern for the poor. The phrase, “Send...upon the waters’ (a better translation for šallah than “cast”), has a parallel in Isaiah 18:2, which speaks of sending (same verb) boats on the water. In Proverbs 31:14, the virtuous woman “is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar” (“food” being lehem, the same word as “bread” in Ecclesiastes 11:1). The advice, then, is to take some risks, especially regarding foreign investments, but “don’t put all your eggs in one basket,” since you don’t know which of several disasters might occur. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Proverbs~Isaiah (Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 350)

Duane Garrett (b. 1953) concurs:

The actual context of Ecclesiastes 11:1 strongly suggests that it is concerned with trade ...The parallels to the Akkadian texts are probably coincidental. Some suggest that Ecclesiastes is borrowing from Ankhsheshonq, but if anything it is likely to be the other way around. It is more probable that literary dependence goes from the more enigmatic and metaphorical “throw bread upon the waters” to the more prosaic version of Ankhsheshonq than in the reverse direction. (John H. Walton [b. 1952], The Minor Prophets, Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 513)

This reading is also not without its detractors. Peter Enns (b. 1961) critiques:

The first verse of this section [Ecclesiastes 11:1]...has been understood as an encouragement toward foreign investment, thus interpreting “bread” as goods in general and “upon the waters” as maritime trade, but this interpretation is not without its difficulties. It is worth noting that the imagery is upon the waters, not “beyond” or “over.” Also, if some sort of investment is intended, finding “it” after many days makes little sense, since one would expect a return on one’s investment. (Enns Ecclesiastes (Two Horizons Old Testament Commentary), 118)

If the verse is business advice it is not especially good as successful business strategies generate a profit. In this scenario, all the investor can hope for it to break even and then only after relinquishing the capitol with no access to it for “many days” (Ecclesiastes 11:1).

Jacques Ellul (1912-1994) senses irony:

The advice of our text carries no promise—not the slightest guarantee. Qohelet does not say “You will save your soul.” But he does make a remark I attribute to his irony: “after a time [or, a long time after, in a number of days] you will find it again” (Ecclesiastes 11:1, Jacques Ellul). Of course you will find your lost, cast-off bread that you saw carried off by the current—one day or another. Qohelet does not say “it is not lost for everybody,” or “you will get it back when it has multiplied,” due to some mathematical kind of justice. But he says “after all, in the years to come, you will still have bread—that same bread, or other bread.”...At this point Qohelet intersects the Sermon on the Mount again. The bread you save today cannot help you in the years to come, any more than Israel’s manna could be preserved for the next day. If only our stockbrokers and investors could understand this lesson! You may squander your bread today, but in a few years you will no longer remember it! The main thing is, “do not worry, do not be concerned” (Matthew 6:25, Jacques Ellul). In any case, you follow the same path as the bread cast on the face of the waters, and in the years to come, you will necessarily join it! (Ellul, Reason for Being: A Meditation on Ecclesiastes, 192)

Another major strand of interpretation focuses on the fact that intentionally tossing bread onto water is an act of abject foolishness. Craig G. Bartholomew (b. 1961) submits:

A third line of interpretation regards releasing bread into the water as a metaphor for a senseless act. The bread dissolves, but such an act may have unexpected consequences, because we are ignorant of the future. (Bartholomew, Ecclesiastes (Baker Commentary on the Old Testament Wisdom and Psalms), 336)

Norbert Lohfink (b. 1928) asks:

The interpretation of the image in Ecclesiastes 11:1 is difficult. If it is purely an image, it means: you might set up something false with your possessions, through which they would simply be lost—it can happen that thereupon, and directly because of it they are preserved for you. It belonged to the philosophy of those seeking prosperity in the Hellenistic world to distribute gifts and considerations widely on all sides. Perhaps one day it would pay off. Did Qoheleth mean this? (Lohfink, Quoheleth (A Continental Comentary), 132)

The reading does have some supporters. Werner Dommershausen (1919-2003) states categorically:

This text is not an exhortation to selfless charity or eager daring, but a statement that even an unwise action can have a good ending, so that one never knows how a particular event will turn out. (G. Johannes Botterweck [1917-1981], Helmer Ringgren [1917-2012] and Heinz-Josef Fabry [b. 1944], “לחם lehem”, Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, Volume VII, 524)

A classic Jewish folk tale takes this tact. Micha Joseph Bin Gorion (1865-1921) illustrates:

There was a certain man who used to go every day and buy a loaf and fling it into the sea. One day he went and purchased a fish, cut it open, and found a precious stone within it. People said: “This man has been sustained by the loaf of bread that he flung there. Because of it the fish accustomed itself to come to that place and was caught.” And concerning him they quoted the verse: “Cast your bread upon the waters...for thou shall find it after many days.” [Ecclesiastes 11:1] (Gorion, Mimekor Yisrael Classic Jewish Folktales)

This view is problematic as it seemingly encourages foolish behavior with the caveat that God will establish some unknown bail out plan. Life does not seem to substantiate this wisdom.

Another explanation that has fallen out of favor involves a flood plain. Philip Graham Ryken (b. 1966) recounts:

Some older commentators believed that the image of casting bread referred to the sowing of seed in a floodplain. Charles Bridges [1794-1869] used the annual inundation of the Nile as an example: “The time for sowing the seed, is just when the waters are going down, leaving a loamy bed, in which the seed apparently lost is deposited, and produces a most luxurious harvest.” On this interpretation, what a person finds “after many days” is a harvest of grain. Thus the farmer gets a good return for sowing his seed, although it is a little difficult to understand why the Preacher would describe this as “casting bread” rather than casting seed. (Ryken, Ecclesiastes: Why Everything Matters (Preaching the Word), 255)

The truism has also been interpreted typologically. Sidney Greidanus (b. 1935) summarizes:

Percy P. Stoute, “Bread upon the Waters,” Bibliotheca Sacra 107 (1950) 222-26, suggests typology in Ecclesiastes 11:1: The “bread” refers to Jesus, the “Bread of Life” (John 6:25-59), and the “waters” signify “the nation or Gentiles” (Revelation 17:5). This method is a form of typologizing which degenerates into allegorical interpretation. (Greidanus, Preaching Christ from Ecclesiastes: Foundations for Expository Sermons, 264)

Given the problems inherent in the established theories, another hypothesis has emerged. Michael M. Homan (b. 1966) argues:

A more likely interpretation, given the process by which beer was brewed in the ancient Near East, is that Qohelet is recommending both beer production and consumption in perilous times. (Homan, “Beer Production by Throwing Bread into Water: A New Interpretation of Qoh. XII 1-2,” Vetus Testamentum 52 (2002): 275)

Stuart Weeks (b. 1964) responds:

The ingenious explanation by Michael M. Homan [b. 1966]...makes the whole passage a carpe diem reference to brewing and distributing beer, but the verb here can hardly sustain his translation “because in many days you will acquire it.” (Weeks, Ecclesiastes and Scepticism (Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies), 95)

Though many have been posited, none of the interpretations of Ecclesiastes 11:1 is flawless. The reader is left to carefully and prayerfully consider how she will apply the verse’s wisdom to her own life.

Literally speaking, what happens when bread is released upon the surface of the waters (Ecclesiastes 11:1)? Is this proverb in any way literally true? Have you ever tossed bread into a body of water? When have you heard purported wisdom that seemed unintelligible? Are there any expressions you use whose origins you have never considered? If Ecclesiastes 11:1 is written to encourage charity, does the proposed reward diminish the gesture? When have you seen an investment made under the auspices of a charitable donation? If Ecclesiastes 11:1 is viewed through the lense of business advice, is it effective? Would an ancient Hebrew, a nation known for exclusivity, have encouraged foreign trade? Do any of the prominent readings offer poor guidance? What is Ecclesiastes 11:1 saying to you?

Though the verse’s intention is disputed, its compliance with one of Ecclesiastes’ major motifs is not. Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) affirms:

Even if we are unable to come to a definitive understanding of the verse, Emmanuel Podechard [1866-1951] is certainly correct that this verse fits in with the teaching of Ecclesiastes 3:11, 8:17, and 9:11 that, according to Qohelet, the future in uncertain. (Longman, The Book of Ecclesiastes (New International Commentary on th Old Testament), 256)

This topic also fits the verse’s more immediate context. James Limburg (b. 1935) situates:

The theme “you do not know”...is expressed three times in Ecclesiastes 11:1-6 (Ecclesiastes 11:2, 5, 6), declaring human ignorance in matters of natural disasters, the work of God, and agriculture. (Limburg, Encountering Ecclesiastes: A Book for Our Time, 17)

Iain Provan (b. 1957) adds:

The opening verses (Ecclesiastes 11:1-6) remind the reader of our human inability to control “the times,” emphasizing the lack of knowledge (Hebrew yd, Ecclesiastes 11:2, 5, 6) that mortals possess...None of us knows “what disaster may come upon the land’ (Ecclesiastes 11:2, literally, “what evil may be upon the earth/land”). Bad times as well as good lie ahead for each of us (cf. Ecclesiastes 7:14). (Provan, Ecclesiastes/Song of Songs (NIV Application Commentary), 205)

Wesley J. Fuerst (1930-2007) concludes:

The point is clear: life does not offer many certainties, so one must take a chance, trusting in grace and in gift, not in grabbing and in securities. (Fuerst, The Books of Ruth, Esther, Ecclesiastes, The Song of Songs, Lamentations (Cambridge Bible Commentary), 148)

Edward M. Curtis (b. 1940) generalizes:

The principle can be applied to many areas of life. People are sometimes confronted with decisions about participating in activities such as trade, which appear risky, or charity, which seem to offer little chance for a return on one’s investment. Qoheleth affirms the importance and wisdom of engaging in such endeavors. Guarantees rarely exist in life, but Qoheleth sees greater folly in doing nothing than in prudently living life with its risks and uncertainties. (Curtis, Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs (Teach the Text Commentary Series), 99)

In deference to this, Daniel J. Treier (b. 1972) rephrases:

One cannot expect to outwit the lack of predictive knowledge by doing nothing unless the risk reduces to zero. Then the outcome would indeed be certain: “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” (Treier, Proverbs & Ecclesiastes (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 216)

Koheleth, however, is not advocating undertaking thoughtless risks. Michael A. Eaton (b. 1942) proclaims:

The first proverb crystallizes the essence of the Preacher’s appeal: it is a call to a venture of faith. (Eaton, Ecclesiastes (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries), 140)

No one can be certain about the future as there is no such thing as a sure thing. We all must take risks at some point. The Bible is littered with characters who were called to do anything but play it safe. To follow God is to step out in faith.

Are there any certainties in life? Is there a single Bible character petitioned by God who is not asked to take a risk? What leap of faith is God asking you to make?

“A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” - John A. Shedd (1859-1928), Salt from My Attic