He was hugging me tightly, tears streaming down both of our faces. The moment had come to say goodbye to Jonathan, our youngest, as we left him at college in California. Somewhere in the few heartfelt words we exchanged, I heard, “The Lord bless you and keep you.”
Our son – putting a benediction on me, his mom, as we parted.
Benediction: from the Latin bene, “well” plus dicere, “to speak” – to speak well of – a blessing. For over three thousand years, priests and preachers, laymen and locals have spoken this benediction well, “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace.” (Numbers 6:24-27) The result of giving this blessing is in verse 28, “So they will put my name on the Israelites, and I will bless them.” Or, as the New Living Translation puts it, “Whenever Aaron and his sons bless the people of Israel in my name, I myself will bless them.”
When our children left our house, especially during their teen years, I often put my own benediction on them: “Have fun, be safe, be a blessing.” Sometimes I’d hear an echo as they walked to the car, or they would finish the sentence for me, “. . . be a blessing.”
When I said, “have fun,” I wanted our children and their friends to know I really did care about their happiness. I wanted them to enjoy life. When I said, “be safe,” that was code for “make good choices.” I knew their choices would not only affect them, but also those around them for years to come. And when I said, “be a blessing,” I knew they had so much to offer – gifts, abilities, experiences, and insight that were theirs alone. And the world needed what they had to offer.
What a great privilege it is to be part of the priesthood of believers. With this sacred responsibility I get to pray and bless – to talk to God about people and to people about God. If someone sneezes and I say, “bless you,” I mean it! When I sign a letter, “Blessings on you,” I’m serious. I trust that as with Aaron and his sons, when I bless you, God will bless you. “You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ . . . You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” (1 Peter 2: 5 and 9)
Earlier on the eve of our tearful goodbye to Jonathan, David and I sat across from him at dinner in the university cafeteria. Our conversation was light, our minutes together quickly ticking by. At one point Jonathan paused, looked right into our eyes and said, “Thank you for my childhood. I loved my growing up.” Then it wasn’t long before he added, “I want to stay here. I think I’m ready.” So tender and courageous. Yes, it was time.
I received Jonathan’s words, “The Lord bless you and keep you.” And before the last hug I said to him again, “Have fun, be safe, be a blessing. I love you.” Then the man-child walked into the dorm without a backward glance.
Benediction.