Torah Portion - June 5, 2008

Parashat Naso, Numbers 4:21-5:31

The Blessing of the Silver Threads

The words of the three-part Priestly Blessing, known in Hebrew as Birkat Hakohanim, have always been a source of comfort to me. They are recited on the Days of Awe and during each festival on which the entire congregation is blessed. They are usually uttered at life cycle events, from a berit milah or baby naming to a bar/bat mitzvah and at the conclusion of a wedding just before the glass is smashed. Some parents offer these words for their children at the Shabbat dinner table. I can still hear Rabbi David Polish (of blessed memory), the rabbi of my childhood, intone the Priestly Blessing:

  

May God bless you and keep you.
May God’s face shine upon you and be gracious to you.
May God’s face be lifted up to you, give you peace. (Numbers 6:23-26)

The first time I was ever asked to recite them, I heard within my own voice the echo of countless voices, going all the way back to my childhood, reciting this prayer for piece. How serendipitous it feels that this blessing is found in this week’s Torah portion, as I pack up my office and prepare to leave Beth Or.  It is a bittersweet feeling to read parashat Naso; how Aaron and his sons are instructed to offer this blessing to the entire Israelite community.

This benediction has never been a private prayer; since ancient times, it has always been recited to the entire community. And yet, each of its three blessings is worded in the singular. Almost every prayer in the siddur, the Jewish prayer book, is formulated in the plural. Even when we pray alone, we recite prayers on behalf of “we,” the Jewish people. When we gather to pray as a community, on the other hand, we are blessed as individuals.  Even in Biblical times, our ancestors understood that communal strength and blessing can only be insured by individual well-being.

Individuals must find inner peace in order to thrive in community; only when we are at peace with ourselves are we able to treat others with compassion and generosity. Inner peace is a prerequisite for peace between us and among us. 

According to the brilliant Biblical scholar Nechama Leibowitz (of blessed memory), "May God bless you and keep you" captures the hope that our material needs will be met. "May God's face shine upon you and be gracious to you" signifies our desires to grow spiritually. "May God's face turn towards you and give you peace" combines both factors, crowning them with the blessing of peace. (Studies in Bemidbar/Numbers, WZO, Jerusalem, 1980)

  

The fifteenth century Torah commentator Rabbi Yitzhak Arama, who lived in Spain until the Expulsion in 1492, then fled to Italy-- notes that peace is the restoration of harmony between parties that might have been at odds with each other. He points to the Mishnah, which in Pirkei Avot 1:12, urges us to be like Aaron's students, loving peace and pursuing it, loving people and bringing them to the Torah.

  

Rabbi Arama writes: "A city of people who do not quarrel with each other, who tolerate each other's idiosyncrasies, cannot be said to be at peace unless they have a common purpose or goal. Without Torah, no degree of harmony can be achieved. For human harmony to be truly peaceful we need Torah, we need God." 

  

He goes on to write that “peace is the silver thread that joins two people, combining them into a unified whole.”

  

Rabbi Norman Patz, a contemporary Reform rabbi, glosses this in a remarkable way. Wondering why Rabbi Arama calls peace a silver thread when gold more precious by far, Rabbi Patz teaches: Gold requires no maintenance, but silver must always be polished. Silver demands our attention.

  

No type of human relationship, from the most intimate to the bonds of civil society, can be maintained, let alone strengthened, without continuous attention. The silver threads of love, harmony and peace tarnish and deteriorate without such attention. The bonds that tie people to one another shine when we pay attention to one another and treat one another seriously and with respect. That is why Rabbi Arama linked these silver threads of peace to the lesson of Torah: covenant.  When we create and keep covenants with one another, we build strong and lasting human relationships. So, we must continue to polish the silver threads.

  

As I read Norman Patz’s commentary, surrounded by half-packed boxes and knowing that I am about to leave, I kept hearing that old Girl Scout song: Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold. Perhaps the old friends are actually the silver ones: if we continue to pay attention to one another, despite geographic distance, we can maintain the important relationships we have developed over the years.