Bless you!

Bless me!

A couple of years ago, we hosted a friend/colleague of Jamie’s, a young man from India named something like Sagai. He was a very pleasant young man. When we walked him out to the car in the morning to say our goodbyes, Sagai came over to me, bowed his head, and said, simply, ‘Bless me, Mother’. 

I was so taken aback by this that my mouth sort of dropped open (I imagine). I glanced at Jamie who nodded his head to encourage me to go for it. I put my hands on his head and prayed a blessing over him, but wished I’d had a little time to gather my thoughts before being invited to do such an important thing. 

When I’d finished, Sagai went to Don and repeated the action, bowing his head, and saying ‘Bless me, Father’. 

We live in a youth culture, where growing old is not valued. It strikes me that though I would say I’m not resisting growing older, I know that my self-image is of someone much younger than I am. So when I was asked to give a blessing, I felt like giggling – as if I were sort of fraudulently claiming a wisdom of years and even perhaps a stature which I hadn’t yet amassed nor earned.

And yet I have. I am older. I have had a lot of experience. I have learned one or two things during my lifetime and may have a few words of wisdom to impart. I certainly know God better now than I did in my youth, and believe that a blessing is more than just form. There is substance there. 

I just read the account in Genesis of Jacob wrestling all night with ‘a man’ who, he discovers at the end of the night, is God. His plea then is, ‘Bless me! Don’t go until you bless me!’

Jacob had fallen out with his brother Esau years before because Jacob had tricked the elder twin out of his father’s blessing. Twice. He’d got Esau to trade his birthright (blessing) for a plate of stew, and then when their dad was on his death bed, he pretended to be Esau in order to get their blind dad to give him the blessing.

He then had to flee his brother's wrath, and the story of him wrestling with God and asking for a blessing takes place the night before he returns home to try to make peace.

It’s all very strange. Why should the older boy get the whole blessing and there be none left for younger boys, or older or younger girls? A different day; a different culture. We’ve come a long way.

But not so far that the blessing of God is redundant. When somebody sneezes, many of us say ‘Bless you’, conveying a desire that the person gets well soon. When we write to others, or say our goodbyes, we say, ‘God bless you’. 

As I continue to grow older, as I will, I pray that I will step more surely into a sense of the gravitas of years, that I will convey more clearly my conviction that God’s blessing is something to be desired above all else, and that when someone says, God bless you, it is more than a kind wish. 

Jesus taught we should let our words be few. James wrote about how powerful words are, and that we should choose them carefully.

So now, I say to you, May the Lord bless and keep you. May he make his light to shine upon you. May he give you his peace, his understanding, and his encouragement, today and every day.

And to you, Joey, a special happy birthday. May you enjoy God’s favour in a special way today, reassuring you that you are a much-loved daughter of the King of Kings.