The Omer

“The difference between a politician and a statesman is that a politician looks to the next election while the statesman looks to the next generation.” - Rabbi Sidney Greenberg

We are in the midst of a countdown. It is called the Omer.  Each day, starting with the second night of Pesach (Passover) we count the Omer, one day at a time.  We count for forty-nine days for on the fiftieth day after the Exodus we arrived at Sinai and God granted Torah to the Jewish nation.  Maybe we should call it a countup not a countdown.  Unlike the traditional countdown we do at New Years Eve or spaceship launch where we count backward, we count forward for the Omer.

You will recall that we do the same thing at Hanukka with the lighting of the candles.  We light them progressively, upward, not downward.  This way of counting represents a shift of attitude.  We do not live in the past or bite our nails waiting for something better to come along.  Each day is holy and will be even holier tomorrow.  This is how we choose to view the world, and our faith in particular.

When we count downward it indicates that we cannot wait for time to pass.  It is like watching television commercial, anxious for the program to resume.  In the meanwhile, the commercials feel like nothing but a waste of time.  Life can be the same: we can simply wait, wringing our hands, for time to pass.  This is not the way our faith encourages to view the passage of time. 

I remember a joke circulating some years ago:  A man received a telegram.  He opened it and read, “Start worrying.  Details to follow.”

Living life in fear of what will happen is not the Jewish way either.  We are supposed to revel in this moment knowing that good things are coming.  Psalm 30 says it well: “Tears may linger for the night but joy comes with the dawn.”  That is the Jewish attitude.   This moment is Divine and the next one will bring untold pleasure.

How do we actualize this way of thinking?  How is it possible to escape the societal rhythm of living in the shadows and instead live forward looking?  How do we live a life that feels positive and joyful and not the opposite?

One anonymous writer scribed, “I believe that only one person in a thousand knows the trick of really living in the present.  Most of us spend fifty-nine minutes an hour living in the past, with regret for lost joys or shame for things badly done, or in a future which we either long for or dread.  There is only one minute during which you are alive – this minute, here and now.  The only way to live is by accepting each minute as an unrepeatable miracle, which is exactly what it is – a miracle and unrepeatable.”

The Jewish answer to how to find a meaningful life is to make it holy.  That is why we count upwards.  That is why we bless our foods before we eat them.  That is why we bless our loved ones on the holy Shabbat and make a special meal beforehand.  That is why we count upwards until we arrive at the foot of Mount Sinai.  In these ways we anticipate the best of what is about to unfold, and make it reality by our actions.

On the Way to My Meeting

That was me waving at you while you were sitting at Starbucks.  I saw you drinking coffee and talking animatedly with your friend.  You were involved in the conversation so if you did not see me or if it did not register who was waving that is alright.  You were at a meeting.

The reason I did not stop was because I was also on my way to a meeting.  I did not want to be late.

We all have meetings.  They keep us busy.  Some are needful, some are friendly, and some are painful.  But we all have them.  They color our days, occupy conspicuous places on our calendar, are a joy and annoyance and a sign that we are needed.  For some people, the more meetings the more we are needed.

Everyone has a place and everyone has a role.  At work we take places around the table, set up a little perimeter around our seat, and steel ourselves for what is coming.

Meetings vary.  Some are clearly charged and energized for change and a healthy exchange of ideas to get to the change.  Others are more like a regular doctor check-up: we pray nothing happens.  Problems arise when it is not clear which of the two is supposed to happen at the table: Is this the one where we are supposed to be creative or one where change is challenge and represents danger?

I was wondering which of the two you were at when I saw you.  You looked concerned so whichever kind of meeting was I think it was the wrong one.  The knitted brows were the give-away.

Judaism asks for change and growth.  It looks at life and wants us to shake our stasis.  In fact, this time during the Omer when tradition demands that we count the passage of days from Pesah until the next holy day of Shavuot, we are supposed to imagine a long steady climb up a mountainside to meet God (that is what happened many millennia ago).  As we trek up the hill we mentally prepare for THE MEETING. 

Anticipating this meeting we take a long steady look at what we ought to be doing for this conference.  Change or inertia?

The fact is sometimes we are eager for change and other times reticent.  Most people I meet, including myself, want both at different times.  There is one overriding principle, though, that was written by Robert Fulghum.  Here it is:

The wagon driver said to his passengers when they came to a long, steep hill, "Them that's going on with us, get out and push.  Then that ain't, get out of the way."

If there is one constant that we must always observe it is for us to allow others to flex and grow and for others to return the favor.

The Countup from Pesah

From the second night of Pesah and throughout this month (and the next!) we count the Omer (it says so in the Torah, check it out in Leviticus 23:15).  Each evening we tick off another digit as the day passes.  Why do we do this?

The most obvious answer is that we are counting up (the reverse of a count-down).  In this instance, we are counting off forty-nine days; the number of days that our ancestors walked their way to the mountain in the Sinai desert to receive the Words of God.

The language we use to count goes like this: : Blessed are You, HaShem, our God, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments and has commanded us concerning the counting of the Omer.   Then you say:  Today is ___ day[s] of the Omer.

Generally, what do we count?  We count things that are meaningful.  When a birthday is getting close, we count.  When a rocket ship is about to be launched, we count.  When we find out about a pregnancy, we calculate the time remaining.  We number the days until vacation.  And here we count the days until Revelation, the anniversary of Torah.  Counting is about the joy of anticipation.

Long ago it was different than it is today.  When the Temple stood in Jerusalem, Jewish people used to bring handfuls of barley (the handfuls were called “omer”s) to the kohan’im every day..  If they missed a day of bringing the Omer, they were not permitted to make it up which is why we try hard to not miss a single night of counting nowadays.  Also, the omer was supposed to be cut at night which is why we count in the evening in our time.

One scholar, Rabbi Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenberg, noticed that the commandment to count actually says, “You shall count for you…” What this saintly rabbi said was that when we count the omer, we are actually doing something that has deep soulful personal implications.  In counting off the days to the holy day of Shavuot, Torah Day, we are heightening our internal register of joy.  By making the time to mentally prepare for the greatest event of human history we create powerful anticipatory internal emotions.

What does this mean to you?  When we count the omer we create an internal hunger to feel the majesty of the moment of the Torah being given.  When the anniversary arrives it will be momentous.

At the same time, it also means that we craft the emotions we carry.  What we put into life is what we get out of it.  Whether it is the love that we continually nourish in our family, or the Shabbat candles that we faithfully light on Friday nights, or the ongoing effort we place into learning Torah, or simply counting up the days to Shavuot – what we take from life is what we invest into it.

Is there any greater truth than this?