May 08 +James Blessing
‘Bless’ is one of those words (like ‘enjoy’) which recently seems to have developed a new life of its own.
A child eats some chocolate cake at a birthday party and ends up with more chocolate on his face than in his mouth. ‘Ah, bless’ says an amused neighbour. An old (or not so old!) person struggles with a television remote-control. ‘Ah, bless: let me do it’ says a rather younger member of the family. In both cases, friendly – but a little patronising. ‘Blessing’ someone today often suggests that we know best and are somehow superior. It is well meant – but rather misses the point.
The point is of course that all the blessing comes from God. In the Old Testament God’s blessing is interpreted in fairly material terms. Long-life, children, crops and herds, peace, wealth and ultimately wisdom are all regarded as signs of God’s ‘blessing’. In the New Testament Jesus gives all this a more spiritual slant. Being truly ‘blessed’ (from beatus, which means happy) involves being in tune with God’s will (‘poor in spirit’ or ‘pure in heart’) and building up treasure, not on earth but in heaven. Even those who suffer for the sake of righteousness are ‘blessed’ says Jesus. They may not be wealthy or famous – but the kingdom of heaven belongs to them.
That’s why pronouncing a blessing is so significant. It isn’t just a matter of offering someone your sympathy or passing on your good wishes. It is a prayer, and the words themselves have power. In the Bible, that is most evident in the story of Isaac blessing Jacob. (Gen. 27) When he discovers his mistake he can no more retract the blessing than he can pluck his words from the air and pop them back in his mouth. The same is true when Balaam blesses
But if we can bless people and things – can we also bless God himself?
‘Bless you’. Not just a pious eccentricity or automatic response to a sneeze or condescending catch-phrase. ‘Bless you’ is shorthand for a world-view which has God and his unending mercies firmly at its centre; and a powerful antidote to the twenty-first century curse of self-pity.
James Newcome, Bishop of Penrith




