In general, whether something or some event is a blessing depends significantly (though not exclusively) on how it is perceived, and this is even true of those archetypal elements of Old Testament blessing: land and offspring. In this sense, the logic of blessing is not dissimilar to the much-discussed logic of gift, and the complexities of how one may be freely blessed and/or indebted by the receipt of the good wishes or good gifts that “bless” is worth probing. In Old Testament terms, we can at least note that “blessing” serves as an overarching perspective within which the pursuit of a life orientated toward God can be considered.
Thus if one prays the words of Numbers 6:26 over someone, this is in part the expression of a desire that the person prayed for will receive peace (shalom) as they go through the day. Obviously this is not an automatic guarantee of peace, but in the very invoking of it upon someone it does contribute to the possibility of their experiencing peace as they go on their way.
The Aaronic blessing of Numbers 6:24–26 locates the prerogative to perform such blessing with the priesthood, and this dynamic is retained in those church traditions today where only the (ordained) priest may pronounce a blessing in the context of a church service. In this text, YHWH ties his own blessing to the words of the priests, and thus the logic is that only those with the publically acknowledged role of representing YHWH can enact his blessing. Conversely, this paradigmatic version of the human act of blessing draws all Israel back to its dependence on God. This divine-human balance in blessing is the source of much reflection in the theological (and especially liturgical) tradition. Arguably, Numbers 6 inaugurates, or at least exemplifies, a period of “Old Testament time” in which the divine word is mediated through priestly blessing. Some might suggest that this can be contrasted, first, with the more family-orientated setting of blessings from father to son in Genesis, and then secondly, with the new situation that arises in Christ in the New Testament. But the converse point, that all blessing draws one back to dependence on God, is constant throughout.
The argument that the blessing found in Numbers 6 is no longer the Christian option is made by (among others) Karl Barth, whose engagement with the book of Numbers in the Church Dogmatics is largely restricted to this passage and the narrative of chapters 13–14 that we explored earlier. Here, in the midst of his discussion of humanity’s “allotted time” under the rubric of “the doctrine of creation,” Barth diverts to a consideration of blessing as he reflects on how Israel situated itself with respect to its own traditions being handed down, and thus “from whence” Israel came. “A blessing is the word which has divine power to pass on good things. It is thus clear that originally and properly the Word of God alone can be a blessing.” He then cites Numbers 6:24 as emphasizing this dependence upon God. But Barth is insistent that the practice of passing on blessing one to another is fundamentally altered in the New Testament. After considering a range of verses that do reflect practices of blessing there, he adds “We look in vain in the New Testament for a parallel to the Aaronic blessing of Num 6:22ff, or for the adoption of this blessing, or for any blessing of one Christian by another.” And the reason, he avers, is (“probably”) that “the divine word of blessing, as the New Testament sees it, has been uttered once and for all in the incarnation of the Word of God … and cannot therefore be repeated (as in Israel).”
This argument seems to go hand in hand, conceptually, with thinking that the notion of priesthood is a problematic one that the New Testament relegates to history. But as I urged in our reading of Numbers 16, this is not the only option open to interpreters. Indeed, it seems to me that Barth’s concerns might be met by the recognition that priesthood in Christian terms is always Christ’s, represented by the human priest. Priestly blessing, therefore, is indeed in New Testament terms, Christ’s blessing. It would take us too far afield to explore why Barth does not go down this route, though one can imagine reasons that are not unconnected to his particular theological commitments. In this case those commitments do seem to allow his supreme Christological focus to drift over into the “Christomonist” approach of which he is sometimes accused, and to do so particularly at the expense of other ecclesiological concerns.
(excerpted from chapter 8)
