Blessing for Safety

The parashah this week is complex, like our world. 

In Nasso, there are moments of calm order (as the Levite clans get their precise instructions for carrying the parts of the Mishkan and are counted in a census).

Followed by the ruptures and isolating routines of illness (dealing with the spiritual skin disease of tzara’at, where those afflicted are sent out of the camp until they get better).

Then there are the ruptures and repairs of human failing. (Do something wrong, sacrifice an animal and repay those you hurt…)

And the flaring of jealousy and the consequences of emotional and physical entanglement in a patriarchal society (the sotah ritual where a woman accused of infidelity has to endure a humiliating ritual, even if she did nothing wrong).

Then there is the nazir, a holier-than-thou hippy with long hair, avoiding not just wine but even grapes as well. I assume we’ve all had a phase like that…

You understand now why this is the single longest parashah in the Torah! There’s even a final chapter where the tribal leaders pay tribute to God, one after another in astonishingly repetitive detail. 

And then, in Torah as in life, just when you least expect it a blessing reveals itself. 

God spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to Aaron and to his sons, saying: Thus are you to bless the Children of Israel; say to them:

May God bless you and watch over you.
May God’s face shine toward you and favor you.
May God’s face lift towards you and grant you peace.

So are they to put My name upon the Children of Israel, that I Myself may bless them. (Bamidbar 6:22-27)

Known as Birkat HaKohanim, the Priestly Blessing, these words find their way into homes as parents bless their children on Erev Shabbat, Friday night (here’s one resource if you’d like to incorporate this practice in your family). 

Imagine the grandeur of the high priest offering these words to the entire Jewish people, and the cozy warmth of blessing each other with these words in a private home. In the intermediate communal gatherings, these words often appear in weddings and b’nai mitzvah. In some synagogues the kohanim, descendents of the ancient priests, continue to fulfill this aspect of their ancestral role (read this for a particularly vivid description of the ritual).

What makes the words so powerful stems in part from their apparent simplicity. 

We yearn for a sense of safety (may God bless you and keep you). 

We hope that life will at times feel filled with light and ease (may God’s face shine light on you and bring you grace). 

We yearn to be seen (may God’s face lift towards you) and for peace,shalom, to be experienced in the world and within ourselves. 

In processing the violence targeting Jews in America these last few weeks and the anxiety many of us have felt in response, I was particularly drawn to the first line of this blessing:

Yevarech’cha Adonai v’yishmerecha. 
May God bless you and guard / protect / watch over / keep you. 

I was certain there would be profound depths to the blessing, and was somewhat surprised with the message the early teachers focused on. 

Here’s Rashi (11th century): May God bless you with an increase in material wealth, and protect you from robbers taking it. 

Apparently, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs applies to biblical interpretation of blessings as well. Don’t pray for profundity before you have the basic supplies and security you need in order to survive. 

A few generations after Rashi, a commentary called Da’at Zekenim adds a twist to this materialist blessing. “May God bless you with material wealth, so that you can guard (shamor) doing mitzvot.”

In other words, our material possessions and basic sense of safety and security are not ends in themselves, but meant to enable spiritual growth and ethical action. This first line of the birkat kohanim isn’t a two-fold blessing, but a microcosmic lesson of how to live our lives. Yevarech’cha - when we receive blessing, v’yishmerecha - then we channel the gifts we’ve received into meaningful action. 

When we think about our rightful and necessary desire for safety, let us also remember to guard and keep safe our larger purpose in life, our values and visions of a world filled with God’s presence, which is to say, dignity and justice and joy.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Jay LeVine