Naso means to lift up. There’s a lot of counting, dealing with a woman who may or may not have been unfaithful (no discussion about men in the same position….oh wait, men couldn’t be unfaithful because they could have as many women as they wanted….damn), consecrating the tabernacle, who was carrying what, and the priestly blessing.
I love it when the rabbi blesses me. It feels amazing.
“The Lord bless you and protect you! The Lord deal kindly and graciously with you! The Lord bestow His favor upon you and grant you peace!”
But I’m not good at giving blessings. Not comfortable. At Em’s bat mitzvah I gave her a blessing. It took me a few weeks to write, then I could barely speak it. Maybe that’s why I have trouble giving blessings. The priestly blessing is pre-written. The emotion is between the recipient and God, not the rabbi. When I give a blessing it is my emotion alone. At the synagogue on Friday nights I cry when I sing the prayers. I’m okay until I try to emit sound, and then I cry. Same with blessings I guess. It doesn’t bother me to cry at tv commercials, it doesn’t bother me (too much) to cry in synagogue, but somehow saying a blessing to someone I love scares me. I don’t know why. I’m apparently not afraid to cry. I wonder what I’m afraid to feel.