Dr. Bailey shines a spotlight on a lasting challenge in Gospel studies – translation – reminding us all that, time and time again, scholars must untangle the Gospel’s original Greek to arrive at a translation that balances both faithfulness and nuance.
The spotlight turns to the Greek word ἐπιούσιος (epiousios), which appears nowhere else in all of biblical literature except within the Lord’s Prayer, and there only twice (Matthew 6:11; Luke 11:3). Today, translations render it as the “daily” in “give us this day [today] our daily bread,” but there’s a catch (as is often the case in translation studies) no other ancient manuscript ever uses the term. This implies that either other instances of “epiousios” have vanished from the historical record or that the Gospel authors themselves were the ones who first coined the word.
Biblical scholars like Dr. Bailey are left scratching their heads over “epiousios,” since its meaning remains a puzzle. “Daily” isn’t even the best guess; it’s just the one that stuck historically. This debate, and the dialogue over it, has persisted for centuries, from the early Church Fathers (Origen of Alexandria, Gregory of Nyssa, Augustine) through medieval theologians (Saint Thomas Aquinas) to the Reformation (Martin Luther, John Calvin) and into modern times (Pope Benedict). Critics note that the Bible strictly uses ἡμέρα (hemera) whenever it intends “daily,” meaning that “epiousios” isn’t a synonym either. To add to this, the Lord’s Prayer already uses “today,” so adding “daily” would make the phrasing redundant. Even if you break down the word’s morphology [epi- meaning “for” plus -ousia meaning “being”], you get something more like “necessary for existence,” and not “daily.” Even today, most experts agree that rendering it as “daily” is inaccurate, leaving us with the question: what does “epiousios” even mean?
Dr. Bailey offers his own wise take on “epiousios” in his book, drawing on his decades of living a Middle Eastern experience as both a scholar and resident. He begins by describing how early Christians in both the West and East have historically handled the term. In Western churches, “epiousios” was tied to time: some interpreted it simply as the familiar “today’s bread,” while others understood it as “today’s bread for tomorrow,” hinting not only at our next meal but also at the eschatological, messianic feast to come; a double entendre and subtle nod to the Eucharist. Unsurprisingly, many Catholic clergy and followers adhered to the latter view. In the East (particularly among Arabic-speaking congregations), however, “epiousios” isn’t about time or chronology at all but about quantity. These communities (even today) translate it as “sustaining bread,” a request for just enough nourishment to keep both body and spirit alive. Dr. Bailey also singles out the Syriac Orthodox tradition, which goes a step further: it’s not simply “bare sustenance” but “bread to fill us”, i.e., the proper amount to satiate our appetite and leave us “full.”
Dr. Bailey surveys all these interpretations and, rather than singling one out and choosing it, he skillfully unites them. He begins with the Old Syriac translation of the Gospels; penned in the early second century AD, long before the fourth century Peshitta (the standard Aramaic/Syriac version of the OT and NT). Keep in mind that this translation of the Gospels from the 100s AD may have been the first translation of the Gospel ever.
Why rely on a translation of the Gospels to find the meaning instead of the original Greek? Because Old Syriac is a dialect of Aramaic, the very language Jesus spoke when he taught the Lord’s Prayer. Although it’s a translation, its translators were surrounded in the nuances of Jesus’s native tongue; vocabulary, syntax, grammar, and all. And since this version emerged barely a century after Christ, it likely reflects the living tradition of the Lord’s Supper as it was actively circulated by word of mouth in Aramaic/Syriac. In essence, these translators did more than just translate: they restored the Gospel to its original voice; they restored the Gospel to the language of Jesus Christ (peace be upon him).
Dr. Bailey presents the Old Syriac rendering as Lahmo ameno diyomo hab lan, or “give us today the bread that doesn’t run out.” Immediately, one should remember and envision the “mahna” that rained down on the Israelites during their decades in the wilderness after the Exodus; the miraculous food (“mahna” in Hebrew and Arabic) that never ran dry. Jewish apocryphal writings from the intertestamental period even prophesied that the return of this heavenly provision would herald God’s kingdom. Yet, even after grasping this newfound Biblical nod, Dr. Bailey invites us to go deeper, revealing that this phrasing isn’t merely a biblical reminder of desert sustenance but a window into Jesus’ own teaching. By asking for unending bread, Christ draws us into the actual layered reality of the verse, demonstrating and teaching that God’s provisions transcend mere physical calories.
Dr. Bailey observes that at the root of many of our anxieties lies a fundamental human dread: the fear of losing life’s essentials; what we formally call “economic privation.” A worry familiar to countless Americans: the fear of a sudden layoff, the terror of a crippling illness, the anguish of being unable to provide for loved ones, or simply not having enough on the table. In Dr. Bailey’s view, the Messiah teaches an antidote through prayer: to ask for “never-ending bread” is to seek liberation from that very existential threat itself.
Picture a loaf that never runs dry; always whole, ever renewing. Asking for this bread isn’t a nod to physical sustenance, but a humble request and plea to step out of the shadow cast by scarcity’s metaphysical presence lingering over us. Too often, good people succumb to moral compromise when they lack life’s necessities. Yet praying for unending provision becomes an act of courage; a way to reclaim oneself, free from dread and desperation. Whenever you see someone with outstretched hands pleading for life’s basics; a child stealing packaged candies for a meal; an economically strained teacher smuggling classroom supplies; a single mother scavenging every aisle to feed her children; an overworked social worker padding her mileage logs for extra reimbursements; a pharmacy technician slipping a few pain relievers into his pocket for an ailing loved one; or a home health aide inflating her timesheets just to keep the lights on, remember this: their light has only dimmed for a moment. Asking for deliverance from economic hardship isn’t about bread, but instead, about restoring every person to their full, unburdened stature so that we might all stand tall.
Now, coming back full circle, Dr. Bailey demonstrates that the Syriac/Aramaic phrasing – “give us today the bread that does not run out” – synergistically unites both Western and Eastern church perspectives. It encompasses the Western notion of “today’s bread” and “tomorrow’s bread” in a single statement, while also capturing the Eastern sense of bread as both “bare sustenance” and a “filling abundance.” In other words, this single plea addresses our immediate needs, our hopes for tomorrow, and the deeper satisfaction that leaves us truly full.
Why, then, should we adopt Dr. Bailey’s Aramaic/Syriac rendering -“give us today the bread that does not run out” – instead of the familiar “give us today our daily bread”? The answer is straightforward: Jesus Christ was not only a skilled carpenter but also a masterful scholar and teacher; his thought was layered and had the full breadth of both straightforward instruction and hidden, esoteric meaning. His listeners encountered layers of meaning, where everyday imagery opened onto profound spiritual truths. Bailey’s translation reflects these very contours of Christ’s thought and style of teaching, transforming a simple request for sustenance into a profound spiritual truth on God’s unending grace. So, not only does the Syriac/Aramaic restore the likely original, spoken-word nuance of the verse, but it also preserves the emphasis and depth that Jesus most likely intended.
A caveat one might ask is that if we pray for never-ending spiritual guidance, why pray daily? Saint Thomas Aquinas provides the answer: prayer is not a one time petition but an ongoing dependence on the Divine. As people of prayer, we are meant to ask for guidance daily; to depend on God daily; to remember God daily. Aquinas reminds us that prayer isn’t about replenishing a finite stock but about cultivating discipleship, fellowship, and reliance on the Almighty. Remember this, even an endless well requires someone to draw from it continually, as the Israelites gathered mahna each morning (Exodus 16). Prayer also is not merely just about requesting; it’s about communing with God; receiving and recognizing his unceasing grace and daily blessings.
Recall that physical bread sustains the body, but inevitably it perishes like nearly all foodstuffs. By contrast, Christ calls himself the “Bread of Life” (John 6:35) and invites us to seek everlasting nourishment, much like the very same mahna that fed Israel, yet pointing toward eternal spiritual guidance and grace rather than just mere sustenance (John 1:16). Remember, mahna provided temporary, earthly provision; Christ’s teaching and presence offer a heavenly, soul sustaining feast (John 6:30-33).
So, when we ask for “unending bread,” we pray both for the strength and resources to overcome economic privation and for the continual grace that aligns us with God’s will. We do not gather this bread by our own effort but receive it as God’s gift, just as we rely on his grace each day to empower us and foster our growth. As Christ declared, “Without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5), and so, with him, we are empowered to follow his lead: to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, comfort the grieving, visit the sick, share generously, pursue justice, and perform every act of compassion and love we can.
Finally, remember this: each time we speak “bread that does not run out,” we proclaim God’s promise to sustain our spirits. In that simple request, we entrust God to be our unfailing provider; a refuge in today’s struggles, a compass through tomorrow’s uncertainties, and a lantern of strength beyond every horizon. We acknowledge that his grace never withers, his mercy never abides, and his love never falters. With every plea, we affirm that in God there is no hunger of the soul, no thirst of the heart, and no limit to his spiritual nourishment.
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