Numbers 6:24-26
‘May the Lord bless you 
and protect you. 
May the Lord smile on you 
and be gracious to you. 
May the Lord show you his favor 
and give you his peace.’ (NLT)

—

I’ve been blessed a few times in my life. By this, I don’t mean that someone has done something nice or good for me. That has happened too many times to remember. I mean, someone blessed me with this particular priestly blessing or another like it. 

This is not a very Baptist practice, at least not among the churches I have attended. 

A deeply meaningful retreat concluded with this very blessing. Believe it or not, a Baptist gave the blessing. 

My heart was moved, and I choked up as the leader spoke these words over us. 

I thought about this and wondered why we don’t practice such blessings more often. Then I found out. 

In the same venue, at a different retreat, a different leader offered a blessing. It was perfectly pleasant. Then he asked us to extend the blessing to someone else. Two groups gathered together for the first part of the day. Having come in late due to travel issues, I was surrounded by people from the other group. 

The participants from the other group followed instructions and blessed one another. One another, I said. I stood there glowing an increasing shade of red as they ignored me. I was so uncomfortable that I found the closest exit and left. 

I didn’t know what to do. I considered ordering a Lyft back to the airport and returning home. I also considered going to my hotel and getting some writing done. I ended up on the front porch at a table where I could be alone with my thoughts and feelings. I spent some time scribbling in search of what bothered me so much. 

The blessing offered that morning is African in origin. It says, “If you are here, I am here.” Good stuff. The problem was that, to those people surrounding me, I was not there. They ignored me. 

This realization is bad enough. Then, it got worse when I realized how I have done this to others through the years. 

My time alone with God and my thoughts was not making me feel better. 

There are a few people in the world who are a blessing to everyone they meet. My coworker Becky is like that. My friend Darrel is like that. There are a few others on my list of Blessors. I want to be on somebody’s list of Blessors. 

I want everyone I meet to feel like they receive this Aaronic blessing from Numbers 6, whether I speak it or not. I want them to feel like “I am here” even without the spoken words. 

I have moved from unconscious incompetence to conscious incompetence, and I am working toward becoming consciously competent on the way to unconscious competence. In other words, I want to become naturally and comfortably a blessing to everyone I meet.

Having just returned from a meeting where several hundred people I did not know, people who serve in capacities similar to my own from many different religious traditions, it was hard to smile and nod and say words of blessing to everyone, but I gave it my best shot. 

A New Zealander initiated conversation as he stepped onto the elevator. He blessed me before I got to bless him. We met in the same location yesterday as he returned from his workout. Before we made it eight floors up, he had blessed me by praying for healing of my very sore shoulder. 

The Coptic Archbishop of London blessed me. My friends and acquaintances blessed me. 

I am blessed. 

I am blessed to be a blessing. 

We are blessed to bless others. 

If you need words to write or say to make someone’s day, borrow these words from Numbers 6. Commit them to memory. Live what they say. Embody them everywhere you go. Be the light for someone’s darkness. 

‘May the Lord bless you 
and protect you. 
May the Lord smile on you 
and be gracious to you. 
May the Lord show you his favor 
and give you his peace.’

—

I will bless others as I have been so abundantly blessed.

—

Our Father, empower me to live the words of this blessing. Use me to bring light and life, hope and honor to others. In the words of the old hymn, make me a blessing to someone today. Amen.