At-home

The Priestly Blessing belongs to no one exclusively. There is no rule that says it can only flow from parent to child. It has always been spoken between people who love each other.

Many communities have begun the practice of offering it between friends, between mentors and students, between members of a chavurah (friendship and study circle). You can place your hands on a friend’s shoulders, look them in the eyes, and speak the words. You can say them in Hebrew, in English, or in your own words entirely.

A simple framework for blessing a friend:

May you be protected.

May you be seen and known. May you find peace.

Or be specific: May you find what you've been looking for. May your worries be lighter this week. May you know how much people love you.

The blessing is the attention. It is the act of turning toward someone and saying: you matter, I see you, I want good things for you. That turning — that full, deliberate facing toward another person — is what makes it holy.

When Vanessa's grandchildren would arrive from New Jersey for Passover, before they even came inside, she would race them to the backyard with little plastic bags to pick the first violets of the year. Those violets went straight onto the Seder plate.

"In a sense, our backyard was part of the holiday. Picking flowers was what it meant to mark Passover at grandma and grandpa's."

What does nature look like in your home? A windowsill with herbs? The first tulips in spring? A view of the sky during Shabbat candle-lighting?

The First Flowers of the Season

Every year, in the spring month of Nissan, the tradition of Birkat Ha'Ilanot — the Blessing on the Blossoming Trees — invites us to step outside, notice a fruit tree in bloom, and say a blessing over it. This blessing is traditionally recited only once a year, in the season of the first flowers, and only when you happen to encounter the blossoms in the course of your day — not by seeking them out, but by noticing them.

ָּברוּ ְך ַא ָּתה ה׳ ֱאלֹ ֵהינוּ ֶמ ֶל ְך ָהע ֹו ָלם ׁ ֶש ּלֹא ִח ַּסר ְּבע ֹו ָלמ ֹו ְּכלוּם

.וָּבָראבֹו ְּבִריֹּותטֹובֹותְוִאיָלנֹותטֹובֹות ְלַהּנֹות ָּבֶהם ְּבֵני ָאָדם

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, shelo chisar b'olamo klum, uvara vo b'riyot tovot v'ilanot tovot l'hanot bahem b'nei adam.

Blessed are You, Eternal our God, Sovereign of the Universe, whose world lacks nothing and who created good beings and beautiful trees for human beings to enjoy.

This blessing is traditionally said on fruit-bearing trees when their blossoms first appear. But the spirit extends beyond any single tree — it is an annual invitation to notice the renewal happening around you, and to say something about it out loud.

For Your Family

If you live somewhere with fruit trees in bloom in spring, say the blessing when you first see them — on a walk, from a car window, in your own garden.

Adapt the tradition to your landscape: the first daffodils, the first cherry blossoms, the first wildflowers.

Make it a ritual to bring the first flowers of the season inside as part of a Shabbat, a Passover table, or simply a spring meal. Name them. Let them signal something.

A blessing for any beautiful thing in nature (from Psalm 104:24):

מָה רַבּוּ מַעֲשֶׂיךָ ה׳, כֻּלָּם בְּחָכְמָה עָשִׂיתָ

Mah rabu ma'asekha Adonai, kulam b'chokhmah asita.

How great are Your works, Eternal — in wisdom You have made them all.

In this episode, Vanessa offers one of the most joyful ritual invitations in the Regeneration series: a custom-made home blessing, designed by your own family, in your own words. Her version is built on the same architecture as Birkat HaBayit — naming what you don't want and what you do — but filled entirely with your own specific, honest, even funny hopes for this particular home.

Step 1: Two Lists

Take a piece of paper. On one side, make a list of everything you don't want in your home: Anger. Loud arguments. Rushing. Carelessness. Germs.

On the other side, make a list of everything you do want:

Love. Peace. Good food. Laughter. Afternoon naps. Big conversations. Friends that become family.

Let the lists be honest. Let them be funny. Let your children add their own items — their wishes for the home count just as much as yours.

Step 2: The Blessing Format

Take a new piece of paper. Write your own blessing, following this structure:

In this house, may there be no ___________. In this house, may there be no ___________. In this house, may there be ___________.

In this house, may there be ___________. (Add as many lines as you like.)

Fill in the blanks from your two lists.

Step 3: Read It Aloud Together

When it's complete, read it aloud as a family or group. That moment of reading aloud — together — is the ritual. You have just created a custom-designed Jewish home blessing.

Consider doing this as a seasonal ritual, revisiting the blessing at the start of a new year, a new season, or when something significant changes. Date and save the old ones. They become part of your family's story.

BirkatHaBayit—ִּבְרַּכת ַהַּבִית,BlessingoftheHome—isprobablythemost widely recognized Jewish home blessing. You've likely seen it on decorative plaques near the entrances of Jewish homes, inscribed on hamsas, and given as housewarming gifts. Written in rhyming Hebrew, its origins are somewhat mysterious: it doesn't address God in the formal way most Jewish prayers do, and its earliest known appearance is attributed to a 19th-century Hungarian Hasidic rabbi. Despite the uncertain origins, it has become perhaps the most beloved home blessing across all streams of Jewish life.

Its power lies in its simplicity: a clear declaration about what this home will and won't hold. Read it aloud when you enter a new home. Hang it where you'll see it every day.

ְּבֶזה ַהַּׁשַערלֹאיָבֹוא ַצַער.

B'zeh ha-sha'ar lo yavo tza'ar.

Let no sadness come through this gate.

ְּבזֹאת ַהִּדיָרהלֹא ָּתבֹוא ָצָרה.

B'zot ha-dirah lo tavo tzarah.

Let no trouble come to this dwelling.

ְּבזֹאת ַהֶּדֶלתלֹא ָּתבֹוא ְבָהָלה.

B'zot ha-delet lo tavo vehalah.

Let no fear come through this door.

ְּבזֹאת ַהַּמְחָלָקהלֹא ָּתבֹוא ַמְחלֶֹקת.

B'zot ha-machlakah lo tavo machloket.

Let no conflict be in this place.

בְּזֶה הַמָּקוֹם תְּהִי בְרָכָה וְשָׁלוֹם

B'zeh ha-makom t'hi v'rachah v'shalom.

Let this home be filled with the blessing of joy and peace.

There is also a second, more liturgically traditional version of Birkat HaBayit that addresses God directly. It is often used in Hanukkat HaBayit ceremonies alongside the mezuzah blessing:

ִרּבֹון ָהעֹוָלִמים, ָאָנא ַהְׁשֵכן ְּבֵבית ַהֶזהאֹוָרהְוִׂשְמָחה, ָׁשלֹוםְוֵרעוּתְוַתְׁשִּפיַעֶׁשַפע ְּבָרָכהְוְקֻדָׁשה ְבָכל ֲחָדָריווִּפּנֹוָתיו

Ribon ha'olamim, ana hashkhen b'veit ha'zeh orah v'simchah, shalom v'reut, v'tashpia shefa b'rachah u'kedushah b'chol chadarav ufinnotav.

Universal One, please bring to this house light and joy, peace and friendship, and pour abundance, blessing, and holiness into every room and corner.

Both versions can be found on Recustom.com, where you can also create a custom booklet for your own Hanukkat HaBayit ceremony.

The custom of blessing children on Friday night is one of the most tender rituals of the Jewish home. Place both hands gently on the child's head and begin:

For sons:

יְשִׂימְךָ אֱלֹהִים כְּאֶפְרַיִם וְכִמְנַשֶּׁה

Yesimcha Elohim k’Efraim v’chiMenashe.

May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.

For daughters:

יְשִׂימֵךְ אֱלֹהִים כְּשָׂרָה רִבְקָה רָחֵל וְלֵאָה

Yesimech Elohim k’Sarah, Rivkah, Rachel v’Leah.

May God make you like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah.

Then, for all children, continue with the Priestly Blessing.

Ephraim and Manasseh were the first brothers in the Torah who did not compete with or harm each other—theirs is a blessing of peaceful sibling love and of holding their Jewish identity even while living in Egypt. Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah are the founding mothers of the Jewish people, each of whom navigated profound uncertainty with courage, leadership, and faith.

Many families also offer a gender-neutral version that combines both sets of names:

“May God make you like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, Leah, Ephraim, and Manasseh.”

You might also choose to create a more modern version that names ancestors or other beloved individuals who embody qualities you want to pass on.

After the Priestly Blessing, the most important part: add your own words. Whisper something specific to this child, this week—what you love about them, what you see in them, what you hope for them. The blessing doesn’t have to be formal. The act of pausing, placing your hands on someone you love, and speaking words over them is the ritual itself.

And if your children are far away—at college, across the country, or living abroad—many families continue this practice over the phone or on video calls. The distance doesn’t diminish the blessing. It may even deepen it.

Your home doesn't have to be perfect to be sacred, and neither do you.

You don't need the right objects, the right words, or the right amount of Jewish knowledge. You need the intention to show up — to light a candle, to put something beautiful on the table, to say something true to someone you love.

Jewish homes have always been shaped by the particular people living in them: by the grandparents' cooking and the photographs on the walls and the objects that somehow survived the moves and the years. By the Shabbat pajamas. By the violets on the Seder plate. By the shofar sounds a grandfather blows on a baby's head just to make him laugh.

These are the things we pass on. Not always what we planned. Often what surprised us.

May this home be blessed exactly as it is.

Not as you planned it, but as it actually happened.

May the things that went sideways be welcomed here.

May the rituals you started by accident become your most sacred.

May your home hold your particular weirdness tenderly.

The songs your family changed the words to.

The inside jokes that have become a kind of prayer.

The strange objects on the shelf whose full story you've half-forgotten but whose absence you would notice immediately.

May the messiness of it be a symbol of living.

The tears a sign that this place holds what matters. The laughter the loudest, most undeniable proof of all.