“The Lord said to Moses, “Tell Aaron and his sons, “This is how you are to bless the Israelites. Say to them: “The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face shine on you and be gracious to you, the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.” So they will put my name on the Israelites, and I will bless them.” (Numbers 6:22-27 NIV)
I have a confession. When the song ‘The Blessing’ first hit the airwaves, I wasn’t as keen on it as everyone else. I believe worship should be about God, not us. At first blush, the Blessing felt like the most narcissistic worship song to date. Of course, I felt alone in that opinion as the song gained traction. I knew it would be soon coming to worship set near me, so I started praying about my attitude with this specific song. I knew the words were straight out of the scripture, I just couldn’t get past the human direction; singing it from one person or people group to another.
Of course, this Sunday, it was in our service lineup and I was wholly unprepared for what happened.
In the first few moments, I noticed the image on the screen: the words were displayed over a shifting cloud background with two tall pine trees silhouetted against the horizon line.
Some places have deep significance for us, don’t they? A place can be painful and meaningful at the same time, can’t it? For me, two tall pines represent a very real location with very real hurt and yet, great love for the folks that still live there. We can be wounded by a place and a people and still long reconnection, restoration.
We started singing and a particular person from that place came to mind. Not like, a name dropped in my head, but like that person was suddenly standing directly in front of my mind’s eye. I could make out every detail of their face and the sorrow seeping from their being. Big, watery eyes asked for my blessing.
If I’m being honest, it was a battle. This person has hurt me very deeply and walked away without so much as an ‘I’m sorry.’ I’ve been unfriended; it’s as though our relationship never existed, except for this gaping gash that they inflicted. I have tried to forgive them for this wounding. I can’t tell you how many times I have said in my head “I forgive you” to this person. I’ve said it again and again, wanting to walk it out. I’ve asked God to help me let them off the hook and I suppose I’ve made a lot of progress toward total exoneration if brute effort has any effect at all. But yesterday, in that moment during song service, the last thing my flesh wanted to do was sing blessing over them.
The Lord persisted.
I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness for the past several years. I’ve written about it at length on this blog, yet it’s still an issue my heart returns to often. Over the weekend I listened to a podcast with Lysa Terkeurst discussing her yet-to-be-published book: Forgiving What You Can’t Forget. The book isn’t out until November and yes, I’m preordering. In the interview, she shared about the Lord’s Prayer and how 60 of the 104 words in the prayer are dedicated to forgiveness and confession. She talked about forgiveness being practiced daily, how a heart needs swept clean every morning and every evening. She reminded me how forgiveness is a muscle – if we don’t exercise it with the small stuff, we’ll lack the strength required to forgive the big stuff. Lysa also proposed that unforgiveness is a largely contributing factor for depression and I know from the tear-stained pages of my own story, she’s absolutely right.
So with all this fresh on my mind, the Lord had this person supernaturally standing before me in worship while we are singing this song that I’ve already struggled with. It occurred to me that we haven’t really forgiven until we can bless, also.
Additional scripture came to mind:
“Bless those who curse you, pray for this who mistreat you.” (Luke 6:28 NIV)
Jesus said this months, maybe years before He went to the cross. Yet still, we see He lived it out when He spoke forgiveness and invitation to the repentant thief dying beside Him and even the persecutors at His feet.
By mid-song, I was utterly undone. I fumbled for my Bible and turned to the pages in Numbers where this blessing was originally written. I realized that these words were spoken over Israelites in the wilderness, in the barren stretch before they believed the bad report and rejected the Promised Land. But omniscient God knew they would! Nothing takes Him by surprise. Of course He was aware of their wayward hearts, He knew the wounds they would inflict, but He decided to bless them anyway. He blessed His people despite their ongoing struggle to stay faithful.
My estranged friend still swam in the mental space between me and the platform full of blessing-bestowers. I realized that REAL forgiveness includes blessing. We have not fully forgiven if we cannot fully bless. We know God has forgiven us because He blesses us, He holds nothing back from His sons and daughters.
So I finally started singing again, squawking a bit with emotion, but really singing this blessing over my former friend. Over their family, their children, their children’s children. Over their coming and their going, their weeping and rejoicing. It became my desire that this person would step back into the fullness of right relationship with God and others and maybe even, someday, me. And I really meant it.
The last part of the song includes the word ‘amen’ – over and over in swelling harmonies. ‘Amen.’ It was not lost on me that amen means ‘let it be so.’ We agree with the blessing and believe for it to be done.
It turns out that I was terribly wrong about this song. The Blessing isn’t narcissistic at all. In fact, singing it over our inflicters might be the most Christ-like words we can sing.
Lord, it is hard to bless those that hurt but we learn from the best. We learn from You. Thank You for loving us at our worst, for forgiving us before we had the courage to take blame for our actions against You. Help us remember Your forgiveness when we feel slighted or injured by others. Your grace is the gold-standard, the watermark that we rise to. You have forgiven us of so much, we can forgive others, also. We can be sure that we’ve fully forgiven when we are ready to bless. Amen.