God bless you.

I was at a music conference in Colorado in the late 1990s, along with hundreds of others. Everyone there –from singers to songwriters to suits — was part of or wanted to be part of the Christian music industry.

My songwriting and business partner, Gary Dugan, and I had traveled there together from California. One evening we went to a session where a famous preacher was going to speak. Better known by the public (including me) as a pastor than someone in the music business, I was looking forward to hearing Jack Hayford speak. Before he took the podium, the organizers played a beautiful recording of the worship song Majesty.

Jack Hayford, I then learned, wrote that amazing song! In fact he wrote hundreds of worship songs and choruses, but Majesty was enough for me.

In his talk he shared a story about an event in his musical life — he was perhaps in his late teens when it happened — that I still remember well. In an event where he thought he was going to be glorified through music, he was instead deeply humbled. His message was touching, his style was vulnerable, and he was, in a word, authentic. All of it struck a place deep within me, and I was intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually moved.

So much so, in fact, that as Pastor Hayford was finishing his talk I turned to Gary and said, “I have to say something to him.” We, having arrived a little late, were very near the back of a large auditorium, and we were standing. That made it easier to move, and as Pastor Hayford left the stage I took off, visually marking a path to a place across the room that it looked like he’d be walking by. I probably knocked over one or two people as I hurried to the position I thought would work. And it did!

I arrived perhaps 30 seconds before Jack and his escorts walked past me on their way out, and as he approached I said, “Thank you very much!” Though the room and the aisle were packed, and though there was much noise from the crowd as people were making their way out, he heard me.

He turned slightly, looked directly at me, slowed his pace just a little, and said, “God bless you,” then walked on.

I knew I had been blessed

I had heard that phrase directed my way many times, but that was perhaps the first time I felt it in the same way I would feel a tap on my chest. It was, as they say, palpable. In that moment, I knew I had been blessed.

Over the years I’ve thought about that small incident, and I’ve heard and used the phrase “God bless you” on many occasions. Some of those involved a sneeze, of course, and in fact I was the recipient of such a blessing from a stranger just a few days ago. I never even saw her, though I was able to say, “Thank you” as I reached in my pocket for a tissue.

That practice, you may know, goes back perhaps to the first century. Several ideas have been posited as to why. One is that people thought a sneeze was an evil spirit trying to get out, or that it caused the heart to stop beating for a moment, or that it was the onset of illness, perhaps even the plague. As a wish for good health, it joins Salud (Spanish for health) and Gesundheit (German for health). While many who use any of those phrases may not know either their meaning or their origin, I believe they mean well. (No pun intended.)

Do you “know” you have been blessed when someone tosses that phrase in your direction? To the same degree the speaker might toss it lightly your way as a reflexive action, we might reply, “Thanks” in the same reflexive way. There are good intentions on the part of each person, and I’m not dismissing the practice or suggesting it should be avoided. I like it, because even subtly it uses the name of God in a positive way and it is an act of kindness to a fellow human.

In vain?

One friend wondered if “God bless you” for a sneeze was using God’s name in vain. Allow me to address that, because most of us only kind of know what “in vain” means.

The third of the Ten Commandments says, “You shall not take the name of your Lord God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.” The Hebrew word here for “vain” is shav and it can mean emptiness, falsehood, lying, or worthlessness (of conduct).

The way I generally understand it in the context of the Ten Commandments is emptiness. King Solomon (the wisest of all men) wrote “Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.” Or, “Empty, empty, everything is empty.” Golly!

To not use God’s name emptily means to use it intentionally and with a purpose that honors God. A wonderful way to do that, I think, is to say, “God bless you” to someone and mean it.

God’s name is often used to damn something or someone. We’re all familiar with that kind of thoughtless, emotionally reactive response to something someone didn’t like. I think that phrase qualifies as an empty (meaningless) use of God’s name, so if it is part of your vocabulary or reactive speech, let me encourage you to find a different way to express your emotions.

Do good

Like the cursing side, the use of “God bless you” might be reactive, but it is not empty. It has substance. How much weight does it carry? Part of that will be determined by the recipient. It could be that God wants that person to hear his name, or perhaps we need to say “God” aloud in a good way.

From my perspective, one of the very best ways to do good is to ask God to bless another person — so listen for sneezes and other opportunities to do good. Thank you, and…

God bless you!