A mother, hands placed gently on her child's head, bestowing not just love, but something…more. Something divinely inspired.
We find a beautiful instance of this in the Book of Jubilees. Now, the Book of Jubilees isn’t part of the standard Hebrew Bible, the Tanakh, that most people are familiar with. It’s considered apocryphal, meaning it’s outside the accepted biblical canon by certain denominations, but it's a treasure trove of Jewish thought and tradition from around the Second Temple period. Think of it as a fascinating window into how certain Jewish communities understood and expanded upon the biblical narratives.
In Jubilees 25, we encounter Rebecca, Rivka in Hebrew, after Jacob, Yaakov, has secured his father Isaac's blessing, famously through a bit of trickery. (More on that later, perhaps!) But before the dust settles, Rebecca offers her own blessing.
The text tells us that "she gave Him thanks and praise." She recognizes the hand of God in all things, saying: "Blessed be the Lord God, and may His holy name be blessed for ever and ever, who hath given me Jacob as a pure son and a holy seed."
Isn't that a powerful image? A mother overflowing with gratitude for the gift of her son. She sees in Jacob not just a child, but a "holy seed," a promise of generations to come, a link in the chain of faith.
And then she continues, acknowledging that "He is Thine, and Thine shall his seed be continually and throughout all the generations for evermore." She understands that Jacob, and his descendants, ultimately belong to God. This isn't possessiveness; it's a profound recognition of divine purpose.
She then pleads: "Bless him, O Lord, and place in my mouth the blessing of righteousness, that I may bless him." This is key. Rebecca isn't just offering her own sentiments. She's asking for divine inspiration, for God to place the "blessing of righteousness" in her mouth. She desires to be a vessel for God's blessing.
And here's the most striking image: "And at that hour, when the spirit of righteousness descended into her mouth, she placed both her hands on the head of Jacob, and said…"
The spirit of righteousness descended. This isn't just a nice moment; it's a moment of divine encounter. It highlights the belief that blessings are not simply empty words, but conduits of spiritual power. The physical act of placing her hands on Jacob's head becomes a powerful symbol of transmission, of channeling that divine blessing.
What does this all mean for us? Well, it reminds us of the power of intentionality, of recognizing the divine in our lives, and of the profound impact our words and actions can have, especially on those we love. Rebecca's blessing wasn't just a formality; it was a heartfelt, divinely inspired act that shaped the destiny of her son.
It also raises questions. What does it mean to ask for a "blessing of righteousness"? Is it about praying for moral strength, for guidance to make the right choices? And how can we, like Rebecca, become vessels for blessing in the lives of others?
Perhaps the answer lies in cultivating a spirit of gratitude, in recognizing the divine spark within each person, and in speaking words of love and encouragement, trusting that those words, like Rebecca's, can carry a power far beyond our own understanding.