We arrive at chapter 11 of Kohelet, and toward the end of the book we encounter many familiar verses - verses that have become common idioms on everyone's lips. Yet precisely here an interesting phenomenon emerges: when one begins to study the text inside, one discovers how many mistakes have taken root and how many misquotations have become habitual speech. People quote a verse one way, while in the Tanach itself it is written differently. So too at the end of the previous chapter: "וְהֵמָּה בִקְשׁוּ חִשְּׁבֹנוֹת רַבִּים" ("and they sought out many calculations") - hardly anyone quotes it verbatim, even though there is not a single Tanach in the world where it is written otherwise. People grew accustomed to saying it differently, and it became an entrenched mistake. Therefore, let us study the verses inside, with precision.
שַׁלַּח לַחְמְךָ עַל פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם כִּי בְרֹב הַיָּמִים תִּמְצָאֶנּוּ׃ - Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it.
Everyone imagines a person tossing a slice of bread into the sea, thinking that perhaps someday, when he is hungry, that same bread will float back to him. But the Pesikta Zutreta explains the literal meaning of the verse quite differently. This is another example of how we are familiar with homiletic interpretations (derashot) while remaining unaware of the plain sense (peshat). "Cast your bread" - refers to the wheat you sow to make your bread. "Upon the face of the waters" - that you should sow it in a place where there is moisture, and then the seed will be blessed. If you sow in a dry and rocky place, nothing will grow. But if you cast your bread to a place of water, "for after many days," at the time of harvest, "you will find it."
By way of homiletic exposition, the verse is expounded in reference to people of charity. Rav Pappi said: If you seek to perform charity, do so with those who toil in Torah, who labor in the Torah which is compared to water, as it is said, "Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters." When you cast your bread in charity, to whom should you send it? To those who are "upon the face of the waters," who immerse themselves in Torah. And if trouble should befall you, "you will find it" - through this merit you will be saved from distress.
Incidentally, the great virtue of giving charity to those who toil in Torah is that the charity here is twofold. One who gives to someone learning Torah receives the reward of supporting Torah, and one who gives to a poor person receives the reward of charity to the destitute. Since the reality today is that most people who toil in Torah are poor, one merits both simultaneously: supporting one who is engaged in Torah, and also supporting one who is truly poor and in need.
Rabbi Elazar ben Rabbi Simai explained the verse as referring to Avraham Avinu, and it is a wondrous Midrash. The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: You said, "And I will fetch a morsel of bread" - by your life, I shall repay this to your children in the wilderness, in the settled land, and in the World to Come. In the wilderness - "Behold, I will rain bread from heaven for you." In the settled land - He gave them the Land, "a land of wheat and barley." And in the Future to Come - "May there be a rich abundance of grain in the earth."
You said, "And wash your feet" - you honored your guests and washed their feet. I will repay your children in the wilderness: "Then I washed you with water"; in the settled land, as Yeshayahu says to them, "Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean"; and in the Future to Come, "When the Lord will have washed away the filth of the daughters of Tzion."
You said, "Let a little water be fetched" - I will repay your children in the wilderness: "Spring up, O well! Sing to it"; in the settled land, in that He gave us a land of water brooks; and in the Future to Come, "And it shall come to pass on that day, that the mountains shall drip sweet wine, and all the brooks of Yehudah shall flow with water."
You said, "and recline under the tree" - and indeed the tree provides shelter over whoever sits beneath it. I will repay your children in the wilderness: "He spread a cloud as a screen"; in the settled land: "You shall dwell in sukkot," in the merit of those Clouds of Glory; and in the Future to Come: "There will be a sukkah for shade by day." Thus far Midrash Rabbah. Behold, Avraham cast his bread upon the waters, "for after many days you will find it."
Our Sages further state: "He who gives to the poor shall lack nothing," and it says, "His horn will be exalted in honor." When you cast your bread upon the waters and give tzedakah - you are blessed through it.
Rashi explains: "'Cast your bread upon the waters' - do a good deed and an act of kindness for a person about whom your heart tells you, 'You will not see him again,' like a person who casts his food upon the surface of the water." This phrasing is somewhat difficult, and it takes a moment to understand the intent. Had one word been different here - lo ("you will not") instead of al ("do not") - the matter would be simple. The meaning is: do a favor and an act of kindness for someone about whom your heart tells you, "You will never see him again." Why should you help him? Will you see him tomorrow? Will you gain anything from him? And when you do kindness for him, you are like someone who casts his food upon the waters - as if you threw the bread into the sea as food for fish, and no personal benefit will ever come to you from it. Even so, Shlomo tells you: do kindness with him, "for after many days you will find it" - the days are yet to come when you will receive your reward.
And Rashi brings an example from Yitro. It is said of him, "Call him, that he may eat bread" - for did he not assume he was merely an Egyptian, a man he would never see again? Some Egyptian rescued his daughters from the shepherds; let him eat a meal and go on his way. And what was the ultimate outcome? Moshe became his son-in-law and reigned over Israel, Yitro was brought beneath the wings of the Shechinah, and his sons and grandsons merited to sit in the Chamber of Hewn Stone. Furthermore, Yitro merited that an entire Torah section was named for him - not just Parashat Yitro as a whole, but the passage of "And you shall discern," that very section in which Yitro took the initiative to offer Moshe counsel.
At the end of the previous chapter, the text addressed the poor man, warning him that whatever the Holy One, blessed be He, takes from the wealthy person and gives to him is conditional upon him not complaining: "Even in your thought, do not curse a king," and even in your bedchamber do not curse the rich man for being wealthy while giving you nothing. Here, the Alshich explains, Shlomo turns to the wealthy man and persuades him to grant and give of his own resources.
The Rambam in Hilchot Matnot Aniyim lists levels of tzedakah, each higher than the next. The highest of all is a loan. Why? Because a person is not ashamed to take a loan. All the tycoons in the economy take loans (the only difference being that they do not always pay them back...). A loan is an honorable arrangement; there is no humiliation in it and no shame. Below that is anonymous charity, where the giver does not know to whom he gave and the recipient does not know from whom he received, and so the levels descend. The Alshich notes: the highest form of outright giving is where the giver does not know to whom he gave and the recipient does not know from whom he received, and above all of these is the level of providing a loan.
Shlomo then comes and advises a person to cling to this high level, comparing it to someone who casts his bread upon the waters. This was their practice in ancient times: the Gemara relates that when market prices dropped drastically, merchants would throw vegetables into the river. The Gemara discusses this in terms of the prohibition against wanton destruction (bal tashchit), and answers that this is not destruction, for people in the villages downstream would find them and benefit from them. (Even today, growers destroy produce to keep prices high, and in antiquity they certainly did so as well.) Thus, there is a reality where a person casts food onto the water here, and someone else benefits from it far away. If you dumped a container of cabbages into the river, people miles downstream pull mounds of cabbages from the water. Do you know to whom you gave? No. Do they know from whom they received? No. This corresponds to that level of tzedakah, surpassed only by a loan. And so it is in our times: when you give a donation not directly to the poor person but to a charity administrator, and the administrator distributes it to those he knows are genuinely needy, you merit the dimension of "Cast your bread upon the waters" - you do not look at the recipient, and the recipient does not look at you.
And what is the reward? "For after many days you will find it," and in this lies a wonderful explanation. We find that through tzedakah a person merits wealth, as the Sages taught: "Tithe (asser) so that you may become wealthy (tit'asher)." We also find that tzedakah grants life - as seen with the daughter of Rabbi Akiva, who gave charity to a poor man and the snake was found pinned dead against the wall; and likewise in the incident with Shmuel and Avlet, who saw a man walking with a bundle of wood containing a snake, and it turned out he had performed an act of kindness for someone who had nothing to eat. Yet both blessings together - both wealth and longevity - we do not find explicitly guaranteed side by side. The Alshich explains: when a person gives charity discreetly, at this lofty level, he merits both. Here it is hinted at in the verse: "Cast your bread upon the waters" - and then, "for after many days," you will merit length of days, and "you will find it," you will receive it back and become wealthy. Behold, a double promise to one who gives anonymously.
In the *Me'am Lo'ez*, a wonderful explanation is cited in the name of the book *Ben David*, connecting this verse to what was stated earlier. There it says, "Even in your thought, do not curse a king, and in your bedchamber do not curse a rich man, for a bird of the skies will carry the voice, and a winged creature will tell the matter." A person thinks: Who will hear? Who will know what I said? There is no one here! He speaks freely without worry. Shlomo tells him: Whatever you speak will be heard and known, and in the future you will see that this can bring you harm. The very same principle applies here: Do not say, "Why should I cast my bread upon the face of the waters? Who will find it? What will I get out of this?" - the waters will carry the bread to a distant place, and after many days you will find it and benefit from it.
The Midrash *Kohelet Rabbah* in chapter 11 brings around six or eight stories about "Cast your bread upon the waters" - examples of people who helped, supported, and assisted others, even a lowly gentile, and in the end it turned out wonderfully well for them. Here is one of them, from which we can understand the principle.
Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua was once walking along the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. He saw a ship tossing about in the sea, and in the blink of an eye it sank with all that was on it. He saw one man clinging to a plank of the ship, carried from wave to wave, until he reached dry land. He was naked, hiding in the water because he had no clothes. At that time, it was the season of pilgrimage to Jerusalem. He said to the travelers: "I am a descendant of Esav, your brother; give me some clothing to cover myself." They said to him, "May this happen to your entire nation!" Instead of giving him clothing, they cursed him, wishing the same fate upon all the descendants of Esav.
He raised his eyes and saw Rabbi Elazar walking among them. He said to him, "I see that you are an elder, respected among your nation, and great in Torah. Merit by assisting me, and give me a garment to cover myself." Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua was wearing seven honorable garments. He took off one of them and gave it to him, brought him to his home, fed him, gave him drink, gave him two hundred dinars, mounted him on an animal for fourteen *parsa'ot*, and treated him with great honor until he brought him home.
In time, the wicked emperor died, and this man was appointed king in his place. He issued a decree against that region that all the men be put to death and all the women taken as plunder. The people said to Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua: "Go appease him on our behalf" - and Rabbi Elazar did not know who he was. He said to them: "You know this government, it does nothing for free. If you want me to influence them, fill my pockets - and not with nuts." They said to him: "Here are four thousand dinars; take them and appease him."
He went and stood at the royal gate. He said, "Go and tell the king that there is a Jewish man standing at the gate who wishes to greet the king." The king said, "Bring him up." When the king saw him, he fell from his throne onto his face. He said to him, "What is your honor doing here, and why did you trouble yourself to come this far?" He replied, "So that you may have mercy on this province and annul the decree." The king said to him, "Is there any falsehood written in your Torah?" He said, "No." The king said to him: "Yet is it not written, 'An Ammonite or a Moabite shall not enter the assembly of Hashem' - and why? 'Because they did not greet you with bread and water.' And I was naked, and it is written, 'When you see the naked, cover him,' yet they greeted me neither with bread nor with clothing. Furthermore, it is written, 'You shall not despise an Edomite, for he is your brother,' and I am of the descendants of your brother Esav, yet they showed me no kindness. One who violates the Torah incurs death; therefore, I decreed death upon the people of that place."
Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua said to him, "Even though they are liable to you, have mercy on them." The king said to him, "You know that this kingdom does nothing for free." He said, "I have four thousand dinars with me; take them and have mercy on them." The king said to him: "These four thousand dinars shall be yours in exchange for the two hundred dinars you gave me back then; and the entire province will be spared because of you, in exchange for the food and drink you gave me; and enter my treasury and take seven garments for yourself in exchange for the garment with which you clothed me. Go in peace to your nation, and I will pardon them on your account." And he applied to him the verse: "Cast your bread upon the face of the waters, for after many days you will find it."
From here stems what Chazal said, that a person should never demean any gentile, for royalty may be lurking right behind his ear: you never know whether the gentile you demeaned today might tomorrow become king, and take retribution against all those who harassed him, caused him distress, and humiliated him.
תֶּן חֵלֶק לְשִׁבְעָה וְגַם לִשְׁמוֹנָה כִּי לֹא תֵדַע מַה יִּהְיֶה רָעָה עַל הָאָרֶץ׃ - Give a portion to seven, and even to eight, for you do not know what misfortune may come upon the earth.
We all recognize this reality: someone knocks on the door and you give tzedakah. In the synagogue, someone comes by and you give; suddenly another arrives, and you scrape together something more. But if a third one comes - "Listen, enough, that is plenty for today; coordinate among yourselves so you don't all come at once." But listen to what Rashi says: "'Give a portion to seven, and even to eight' - if you have divided your bread and your possessions among seven who are in need of kindness, divide further among the eight who come after them, and do not say 'enough.'" And that is truly the difficult part. After giving, a person feels at ease - I gave, what more do they want from me? This is also the strongest argument of the average secular person when someone knocks on their door: "People were already here, we already gave, that's enough."
Rabbi Shalom Schwadron related a story about the author of the *Imrei Chaim* of Sanz. Once, he was walking through the town and smelled the scent of Gan Eden wafting from one of the houses. He followed the scent, reached the house, and said: "It is coming from here." They knocked on the door, and the Rabbi asked: "May I come in? I smell an extraordinary scent here, the fragrance of Gan Eden." The homeowner replied: "Please, enter." The Rabbi continued to follow the scent until he reached a closet, and said: "It is coming from here." The homeowner turned pale, but opened the closet - and inside was a priest's robe. The Rabbi asked: "What is this robe? Tell me." The man felt uncomfortable, but when the Rabbi pressed him, he explained.
He said to him: "I am a tzedakah collector, and every evening I go around the homes in town collecting for the poor. One evening, after I had already finished my rounds, I was told about a widow in dire straits whom I simply had to help. I felt awkward - I had already visited people that evening, so how could I go and knock on their doors again? But there was no choice; it was a matter of pikuach nefesh, saving a life. I went, made the rounds once more, apologized, explained that it was a life-or-death emergency, and managed to scrape together enough to help that woman.
"A short while later, that same evening, another person came to me: 'You must help me, they are pursuing me, it is a matter of life and death!' I told him: 'My friend, I cannot knock on people's doors three times in a single evening.' He pleaded: 'You must!' I said to him: 'There is only one place I haven't been - the tavern. Let us try to appeal to them.' I went there and found reckless revelers, and among them was the wealthy man's son. He asked: 'How much do you need?' I said: 'Four hundred rubles.' He said: 'I am willing to give four hundred rubles, on condition that you entertain us.' I asked: 'What do you mean?' He said: 'I will bring you a priest's robe; put it on and dance through the town, and we will follow you with drums and dancing so we won't be bored. If you do that - I will give it.'
"At first I refused: What a disgrace! First of all, wearing a priest's robe, and second - people will say this man has completely lost his mind! He is dancing with all these revelers following him with music and dance, and the entire town coming out to watch. What terrible shame! But then I thought: for that Jew, this is a matter of life and death, and I must help him; there is no other way. I said to him: 'I agree.' I did it, and the humiliation was enormous - but that Jew was saved." The Rebbe of Sanz told him: "I smell the fragrance of Gan Eden from these garments. Request that when your time comes, these should be your burial shrouds." And so it was; he was buried in those garments.
It is told that years later, by order of the government (since in Europe cemeteries could be relocated after fifty years), the Jewish cemetery had to be evacuated, and the Chevra Kadisha moved the graves. When they moved this Jew's grave, they saw that his entire body was completely intact, except for the edge of his leg: the robe had been slightly short and did not cover part of his leg, so only that exposed part had decomposed, while the rest of his body remained whole.
From here we learn the greatness of someone who does not settle for saying, "I have already given." For what is the primary reward given? For going beyond, for the exertion, for the toil. Avraham Avinu practiced hospitality all his life, for one hundred and seventy-five years, yet for what did the Holy One, blessed be He, remember his merit and repay his descendants in the wilderness, in the Land, and in the future to come? For that one time when it was the heat of the day, and Avraham was ill and in severe pain - yet he still welcomed guests. A single act done through hardship is worth thousands done without hardship. And notice that precisely regarding what requires distress, we tend to give up easily: "It is hard for me right now, there are difficulties" - yet that is precisely where the main reward lies.
Rashi explains two possibilities. First: perhaps many days are yet to come and you will need them all - it is very possible that those seven or eight people to whom you gave charity, a day will come when you will need them, when you are in a state of misfortune, and they will be the ones to sustain your life. Second, from a spiritual perspective: you will be saved from misfortune through the charity itself - not because the recipients will help you, but by virtue of the merit of charity, for charity delivers from death. Rashi adds: "And if not now, when?" - specifically now, while you have the means, give.
Chazal expounded this verse in several ways. "Give a portion to seven" - these are the seven days of Creation: give one of them as a portion to your Creator, resting on Shabbat. "And also to eight" - these are the eight days of circumcision, for on the eighth day you shall circumcise your son.
Another explanation: "Give a portion to seven" refers to the communal sacrifices offered during the seven days of Pesach. "And also to eight" refers to the eight days of the festival of Sukkot, during which offerings are brought for eight days, including Shemini Atzeret. And how does this connect to "for you do not know what evil will be"? Rashi explains: lest the Temple be destroyed and you will no longer be able to offer sacrifices, so that the earlier ones will stand to your credit. Therefore, give your portion while you still can, so that the altar will not remain desolate. Another explanation: "For you do not know what will be" - you do not know what has been decreed concerning rain on the festival of Sukkot, and this refers to the "eight," to the sacrifices of the seven days of Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret. Perhaps it was decreed that rain should not fall, but if you offer sacrifices now, these offerings will help and annul harsh decrees.
The Pesikta adds a homiletical exposition: "Give a portion to seven" - observe the seven days of niddah; "and also to eight" - and through this you will merit a son who is circumcised on the eighth day. This corresponds to the sequence of the verses: "She shall be unclean for seven days," juxtaposed with "And on the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised." If you observe the seven days of niddah, you will merit a son whom you will circumcise on the eighth day.
The Alshich continues his line of thought from the previous verse. There he advised us to pursue the highest level of charity - anonymous giving, and above it, offering a loan. Now a person might argue: but such an opportunity does not always present itself to me, where I do not know who the recipient is and he does not know who gave; if so, I will not give at all. To this Shlomo says: "Give a portion to seven" - these are the seven levels of charity enumerated by the Rambam; give a portion to each of them according to your ability. "And also to eight" - this is the loan, the eighth and highest level, which you should also give. But if you cannot attain the highest of them, do not say, "If I cannot give the very best, I will not give at all"; there are seven other levels, so give whatever you are able.
And should you wonder: wasn't it the Rambam who enumerated the seven and eight, so how can one interpret Shlomo's words based on the Rambam, who lived many centuries later? The Alshich answers: do not be surprised, for even though the Rambam, of blessed memory, formulated them, their reality was certainly known to Shlomo. Shlomo was the wisest of all men, and whatever the Rambam knew, Shlomo certainly knew. These categories of charity were well known to him, and this is what he had in mind.
In Me'am Lo'ez, it is explained: "Give a portion to seven" - give charity to seven types of impoverished people, for the poor person is referred to in Scripture by seven names: dal, rash, ani, evyon, makh, misken, and heilekh (or cheilka'im in the plural). "And also to eight" - these are not an eighth category, but another eight individuals, those enumerated in the Torah: you, your son, your daughter, your manservant, your maidservant, the Levi, the convert, the orphan, and the widow - which amounts to eight besides yourself. Then you will not feel any evil occurrence that comes upon the land. Not all of them are directly dependent upon you - an orphan and a widow are not members of your household - but your son, daughter, manservant, and maidservant are close dependents, and after them come those further away: the Levi, the convert, the orphan, and the widow, as you assist those whose situation is difficult and vulnerable.
The author of Imrei Shefer explains the two verses together. "Cast your bread upon the waters" - perform an act of kindness and charity for someone you believe you will never see again, and nevertheless do charity with him, for after many days you will find it and receive your reward. "Give a portion to seven, and also to eight" - divide your portion among seven who came to ask, and even if another eight come after them, give to them as well. For you do not know; perhaps days will come when you will need them all, or you will be saved from misfortune through this charity.
However, according to this, "seven" and "eight" are not meant literally; one could just as easily say, "Give a portion to four, and then to another twenty," and it would mean the same thing. Yet we see that Chazal did not expound it this way: they were precise about the number seven - corresponding to the seven days of Creation, and about the number eight - corresponding to the eight days of circumcision. This indicates that the numbers were written with exact precision, and not in the casual manner of people who simply toss out a number. Therefore, the author seeks to explain the matter according to the approach of Chazal and delve into its inner meaning.
Every person, says the Imrei Shefer, when entering the world, has two paths before him. One is the secular path, the civic life: engaging in the affairs of this world and material matters, where all his interest, business, and energy are devoted to earthly concerns. Even when he cares for his children, he cares for them only from a financial perspective. The second is the sacred path: engaging in contemplation and the intellect of Hashem's Torah and His commandments, the spiritual path. It is like two men, one of whom sends his son to learn a trade while the other sends his son to yeshivah. In this, the Holy One, blessed be He, distinguished Israel from the nations of the world and gave us numerous statutes and ordinances, "ordinances they have not known."
He terms the first path "the seven days of Creation," during which the Holy One, blessed be He, was engaged in the building of the world. Such people are occupied with building the physical world: working, buying, selling, planting, sowing, and reaping, all in accordance with the laws of nature, just as during the days of Creation the Holy One, blessed be He, created heaven and earth, seas, rivers, and living creatures - everything connected to nature. The second path he terms "the eight days of circumcision," for this is the first mitzvah unique to us, the first commandment given to Avraham Avinu, and a sign of the covenant for every Jewish man who bears upon himself the King's seal and was chosen to fulfill His commandments. For this reason it is considered so severe when a person draws forward his foreskin - that is, disguises the fact that he is circumcised and is ashamed of his milah - for it is a great honor to bear the King's seal. It was regarding this that the Holy One, blessed be He, made a covenant with Avraham to set him apart from the nations: "And as for you, you shall keep My covenant" - this covenant is what separates you from the nations, representing the spiritual dimension of life.
We specifically chose the Imrei Shefer among all the commentators because he walks in the path of the Malbim; anyone who studies his work senses the flavor of the Malbim, and he bases much of his commentary on the Malbim's foundations. Here, too, a wonderful allusion is woven into this: the Malbim already explained at length in his commentary on Creation (Ma'aseh Bereishit) that during the six days of creation, the Holy One, blessed be He, established the order of nature, while on the seventh day He established a new order - the order of Divine Providence (hashgachah), arranged according to the deeds and divine service of His people, through which the entire celestial order can be overturned. On the seventh day a spiritual order was created, and it rules over all six days. That is: through spirituality, one can master nature. All six workdays are, as it were, subordinate and subject to the seventh day, wherein the Holy One, blessed be He, alters the celestial systems according to the deeds of the Jew: Moshe Rabbeinu strikes the rock and it gives forth water, Eliyahu splits the Jordan with his mantle, and so on.
Regarding this, Shlomo says: "Give a portion to seven." If you walk along the paved path of the six days of creation, the earthly path of engaging in material pursuits - see to it that you also give a portion to the seventh, to the seventh day that expresses the spirituality within nature. Remember that everything is guided by Divine Providence, that everything comes from Him, blessed be He, that everything depends upon the Creator's will, and not merely worldly pursuit like the nations of the world. And it is you who determine whether the six days will be successful or not, according to that very order of Providence of the seventh day: the more you give a portion to the seventh, the more success you will have in the six workdays. Therefore, take care, as you walk along the mundane path, not to forget the seventh day - the sanctified day that expresses Providence over all six workdays.
And despite all this, he says, you have not yet fulfilled your obligation, for you must also give a portion "even to eight": do not forget the eighth path, engraved in your flesh, which is the matter of circumcision (milah). A non-Jew has no part in this path; it is unique only to you, to the Jew. And if you abandon it, will it not become desolate and mournful, since there is no one else to walk upon it? The path would lie desolate and bereaved - the path of eight, the path of pure spirituality.
Therefore, walk in both paths as I have instructed you, "for you do not know what evil may come upon the land." If you abandon the second path entirely and walk only in the first like the nations - you do not know what disaster will come upon the earth; your entire reality will turn to ruin, all your labor and the toil of your hands will be uprooted, and you will be left empty in this world and in the World to Come. For what do you have? Only physicality, and physicality is temporary; when you depart from here, what are you left with? Emptiness. But one who also walks in the second, spiritual path is guaranteed to have paved for himself life in the World to Come. And he concludes: "This I learned from the words of the Gaon, the author of the Chavat Da'at, with an adaptation of the wording and the addition of insight, and these pleasant words are pure."
These concepts align beautifully with what was discussed at length regarding Chanukah, as elaborated by Rav Dessler and especially Rav Friedlander: Chanukah is eight. The distinction between seven and eight is that seven represents a miracle within nature - seven (sheva) being related to satiety (sova) - whereas eight, in Chanukah and milah, belongs to the realm of the supernatural, related to abundance (shemen), surplus, and going beyond. Therefore, all matters of this world are contained within seven, remaining within the boundaries of nature, whereas eight is the dimension of the World to Come. The lower seven sefirot govern the world, representing nature, while the eighth is beyond nature. This is "Give a portion to eight": the aspect of milah, total sanctification, and attachment to spirituality.
The first two verses of the chapter are a profound call to giving. "Cast your bread upon the waters" - in its plain sense (peshat), sow in moist ground and the seed will be blessed; and in the homiletic sense (derash), give charity to those who toil in Torah, and perform acts of kindness even for someone you are certain you will never see again, for "in the abundance of days you shall find it" - as with Avraham Avinu whose reward was repaid to his descendants in the wilderness, in the Land, and in the time to come, and as with Yitro, and as with that shipwreck victim who became an emperor. The Alshich derived from here the praise of anonymous charity, where the giver does not know and the recipient does not know, meriting a twofold promise: "in the abundance of days" - long life, and "you shall find it" - wealth. And "Give a portion to seven, and even to eight" teaches not to say "enough": give again, even when it is difficult, for the primary reward is for the exertion. In its deeper sense - not to suffice with the mundane path of the six workdays, but to give a portion to the seventh, to the order of Divine Providence that governs nature, and also to the eighth, to the holy path engraved in our flesh, which alone leaves a person with an eternal acquisition for the World to Come.