Blessing of the Ancestors
It surprises me that the culture of our time is still profoundly governed by ethnocentric concerns. Though we are surely capable of seeing the humanity in all people, often race, religion, language, or some other marker becomes a source of vast division. In our mythic wisdom book, the ancestors stories present the idea that all of us exist on account of the countless generations that preceded us, and stretching back far enough we arrive at an entity, real, mythic or imagined, that holds those divisions together. This is the blessing of the ancestors.
May those who bless you be blessed, may your name be great.
May you be as the stars of the heavens and the sands of the seashore.
May all the people of the earth be blessed by your presence.
The blessing of the ancestors is the heirloom of all humanity. Backward through generations like rope unwoven, somewhere our mothers and fathers are shared. Just as you were a child born unto ancestors so may you be an ancestor to a sea of children.
But from the moment the world was created, blessing was the province of gods and angels. From now ever onward that power is yours.
Look up and count the stars, their tally unfathomable. May your good deeds be incalculable. May you be blessed beyond your own comprehension.
In your greatness and in your lowliness you are blessed.
Like the sand of the seashore, like that which gives boundary to oceans. Like the ebb and flow of time, the unceasing crash of waves, like the source of life from which spirit sprang, mutable like water. May you be a body and a face of spirit entirely your own.
Blessed are the children of the ancestors, kindred in substance to sand and stars and all the eye can see. Nerve castles, electron moons, capillary pathways like zodiac constellations. Blessed are the children of earth and sky.
Rabbi Zach Fredman