Nasso
Numbers 4:21-7:89
Judges 13:2-25
Written deep into the heart of virtually every parent is the desire for one’s
children’s well-being. When they are infants they depend on us for their survival, moment by moment. When they begin to move on their own, we save their lives many times each day, preventing them from rolling off a high changing table or from sticking a tiny finger into an electrical socket.
At each of these moments, a powerful instinct moves us to leap into action, giving us the sometimes superhuman energy we need to save their lives yet again, to give them what they need, even before they know it.
As our children grow into adolescence and adulthood, their lives expand well beyond the circle of our knowledge and control. We learn that we can no longer save them from their own mistakes and misfortunes. We must learn to tolerate the limits of our influence and power in their lives. After so many years of exercising the instinct to nurture and protect them, this is never an easy task. The wish for their well-being remains a primary passion in our lives.
This week’s parashah brings us the beloved Birkat Kohanim, the priestly blessing. Among its many dramatic functions in the traditional liturgy, it is perhaps best loved as the prayer with which Jewish parents bless their children at the Shabbat dinner table. “May God bless you and protect you. May God deal kindly and graciously with you. May God show you favor and grant you peace.” (Num. 6:24-26) Three brief sentences, giving words to a parent’s deepest yearnings.
Much has been said about these words (15 in Hebrew), elegant in both content and structure. The blessing comprises three sentences of increasing length — first three words, then five, then seven. Many commentators have offered explanations of how the content, too, progresses from one verse to the next, building toward the ultimate blessing one may offer for another.
One ancient midrash understands the first line, “May God bless you and protect you,” as referring to material well-being, and another includes protection from harm. These are the most basic hopes we may have for anyone we care about. Several commentators suggest that the second line, “May God deal kindly and graciously with you,” refers to blessings in the realm of interpersonal relations. Translated literally, the verse means, “May God’s face bring you light, and may God bring you grace.” Some commentators suggest that these words ask that all who see this person will see the light of the divine in his or her face, that the person will radiate with goodness, so that relationships with others will be graced and filled with blessing.
The blessing climaxes, as does all Jewish prayer, with a prayer for peace. Here, we ask for the ultimate blessing of inner peace, for neither material well-being, personal good fortune, nor even loving relationships, ensure contentment. Others say these words express the hope that this child will use everything he or she has to help bring peace to the world.
I remember vividly that shortly after my daughter was born, I was struck by the thought, “If even the majority of parents feel the kind of love that I feel for this child, then there is so much more love in the world than I ever knew.” I knew that I had entered a realm of universal human experience, which I shared with virtually everyone who had ever loved a child.
So, too, parents who have cared for children who are ill share this primal experience with every other parent who has suffered in this way. In such experiences, it is possible to learn a new level of compassion for how much pain there is in the world, and how universal are our own deep desires for our children.
All of which brings us back full circle, for the priestly blessing in its original context in our parashah refers not only to children but to everyone in need of blessing. Perhaps we might pause each week before blessing our own beloved children and for a moment remember our deep commonality with all parents, with all people, who pray for the well-being of those they love. If we all did this, perhaps there would be more blessing in the world.
Rabbi Amy Eilberg is a spiritual director in private practice.