The Priestly Blessings (Birkhat Ha-Kohanim)

By Myrna Goldman

This will be a combination of some of the things I learned about the priestly blessings and also about some of my childhood memories of the ceremony surrounding the blessings - one of which is musical.

Millgram tells us that the most important of the Temple customs kept by the Rabbis was the preservation of the Kohanim as a separate class within the community of Israel. The most impressive duty of the Kohanim was blessing the congregation during some of the services. After the fall of the Temple, the priestly blessing was incorporated into the daily service. The three sentences are read by the service leader during the repetition of the Amidah (daily Shacharit, page 120 in Sim Shalom; Shabbat Shacharit, page 362; Shabbat Musaf, page 438, although we rarely do the reader's repetition at TI). These well-known verses come from Numbers VI, 24-26 (p.595 of the Hertz), and there is a good note on page 594.

However, Orthodox and some Conservative congregations have preserved the custom during Musaf on the three festivals of having the Kohanim actually going up to "dukhan." This word refers to the place where the ancient priests stood on the Temple portico. Prior to the ceremony, the Levi'im pour water on the hands of the Kohanim, and then the Kohanim are called up by the leader to the bimah. The Kohanim remove their shoes before going up, they face the ark, and before turning around to face the congregation, they place their taleisim over their heads and over their outstretched hands -- with their fingers spread -- in the symbolic gesture of bestowing a blessing. They chant each word of the blessings after the service leader, and in my memory this sounds like something between a shout and a wail. Millgram expresses regret that this ceremony has been omitted in many American synagogues. Ethan tells me that it is done every day in Israel, and Elbogen indicates that initially, it was part of every Amidah recited aloud but was soon restricted to the Morning Service. The Sephardim do it every Shabbat.

I, for one, have no interest in seeing our services any longer, but there are some beautiful things in the ceremony aside from the presence of the Kohanim and their chanting. Many Orthodox prayer books - I looked in Birnbaum's Daily Prayer Book - show what I remember from my childhood. After each word of the blessing there is an entire sentence for the congregation to say as the Kohanim are repeating the word. These are lovely sentences from the Psalms, and they all key off of the word. For example, after the first word "yevorechecha," (may He bless you) the sentence "is May the L-rd who made heaven and earth, bless you from Zion." This is from Psalm 134:3. I never did figure out how people said so many words while the Kohanim were only saying one, but that is one of the mysteries of the Orthodox service! One more thing - between each of the three blessings, there is a lengthy paragraph for the congregation to say, having to do with G-d confirming our good dreams and those of the people Israel and also healing them as He has in history. It also asks for G-d's protection. During this paragraph, in the shul of my childhood, the Kohanim chanted for some time an "ay ay ay," the melody of which I will sing for you later. Elbogen calls the addition of the verses for the congregation an "unfortunate consequence" because the "hubbub" drowns out the words of the Kohanim. He also objects to the extra singing by the Kohanim.

One distinct memory for me is that everyone turns away and does not look at the priests during the blessing. Elbogen says that looking at the priests was prohibited by Rabbi Akiva. We were told by one of my Hebrew school teachers that the first time you looked, you would get struck blind, and the second time you looked, you would get struck dead (of course, if you were blind, how could you look again, but that's Hebrew school humor). This must have made an impression because I have never looked, and the only way I know the details about what the Kohanim actually do is from my reading.

I'm going to sing the "ay ay ay" tune I heard while growing up. I have no idea if this version is unique to Chicago or to a certain part of Eastern Europe, but after more than 30 years, I still remember it.

Given at Tifereth Israel in 2000