Effective Enumeration
Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
This summary is dedicated l'iluy nishmat Yaakov Koppel ben Shalom Halevi, a holocaust survivor and talmid chochom who was niftar erev Shabbos Acharei Mos/Kedoshim. He made his days count.
Parshat Emor gives us the laws of counting the period between Pesach and Shavuot. One day after the Pesach offering was brought, we would bring an omer measure of barley as an offering to Hashem. The kohain would wave the omer of barley, and mix it with flour and oil to be a meal offering to Hashem. From that day on, we are commanded to count seven weeks, fifty days, until we bring a bread offering that is also waved and offered to Hashem together with the appropriate sacrifices of the holiday.
While general practice is that we count down toward an anticipated event (five more days to go...), when we count the omer, we begin with day one and count up until all the forty nine days have been completed. Further, We are commanded to count both the individual days and the weeks, even weeks with the additional days of a partial week, giving us two separate but interrelated mitzvoth. Why are both counts necessary?
Rabbi Pincus zt”l, the Tiferes Shimshon, clarifies our questions. Every day has the potential to be either good or bad, depending on how it is used. What are we investing in these days and weeks? And what is the significance of seven times seven weeks?
We know that names are significant. Rabbi Bernstein asks why this offering at the beginning of the count is called an omer, a specific volume equal to a tenth of an ephah. While the other offerings are cited as a tenth of a ephah, why is this offering given the term omer that then becomes the name of this period of time? Actually, this is a most potent and elevated time of the year. It is a time of preparation for receiving the Torah, writes Rabbi Chafetz, citing Rabbi Sharabi zt”l and the Chasam Sofer zt”l. How should we be preparing? As Rabbi Beyfus notes, the command is "usefartem lochem, count for you," for your benefit. This is a time for introspection, for actively choosing the good path, for improving ourselves.
Taking the cue from the forty-eight attributes through which the Torah is acquired, Rabbi Asher Weiss cites the practice of the disciples of Rav Yisroel of Salanter who would devote one day of the omer to developing each of these attributes, leaving the forty-ninth day for review. Alternately, though not exclusively, the Arizal suggested that the forty-nine days reflect the seven lower sefirot [the characteristic attributes that appear as emanations of sanctity through which Hashem reveals Himself in the physical world, such as chesed, and gevurah, culminating in tiferes]. However, since each trait carries within it lesser elements of the other traits, there are a total of forty-nine variations. Each day, we can tap into this spiritual energy. We can achieve tremendous growth by taking small steps to reach seven full weeks of growth.
Allegorically, this season leads up to the marriage of the King to Bnei Yisroel. The seven weeks parallel the seven days of cleanliness as the bride prepares herself for the wedding day. The world we live in is full of impurities that lure us and distance us from Hakodosh Boruch Hu. During this season, Hashem provides us with help to distance ourselves from these impurities and be worthy of the relationship with Him. Just as Hashem helped purify us from the forty-nine impurities of Egypt in our first count toward Sinai, so does He help us now to leave behind the modern day impurities, writes Rabbi Weiss,
The rituals at the beginning and end of sefirah allude to another message of this season, notes the Netivot Shalom. It is a message to be found in Tehillim 36:7 "You save both man and beast, Hashem." The omer offering at the beginning of this cycle is of barley, the food of animals. But at the conclusion, on Shavuot, the fiftieth day, the kohanim bring the two loaves of bread, the food of humans. During this season, we work on refining ourselves from creatures subject to animalistic tendencies to higher, human beings, not ruled by passion. Symbolically, the kohain waves these offerings upward as Aharon raised and lifted the Leviim to the elevated standard in service to Hashem.
When do we start counting? From when the grain is standing upright in the field and ready to be separated from the earth and raised, writes Rabbi Schwab zt”l. As Rabbi Eisenberger, in Mesillos Bilvovom interprets Koheles3:19, "For Man has no superiority over beast, except for the ability to say No." Man has the ability to determine whether something conforms to God's will and can choose to say No. As we prepare for our rendezvous with Hashem at Sinai, we are urged to work on our self control. Every morning we bless Hashem that we stand upright, that our eyes can turn heavenward, unlike animals whose eyes face downward, toward the earth. [For a powerful poem based on the painting by Millet, read Edwin Markham's The Man with the Hoe. Markham likens this shell of a man to "brother to the ox." CKS]
Rabbi Eisenberger reads the Torah describing us in Egypt, "vatimalei ha'aretz osam," not as the earth was filled and overrun by Bnei Yisroel, but that the earth filled them, filled Bnei Yisroel, filled us with physicality. When we count the omer, we are moving away from physicality toward sanctity, from the animal to the human.
And we call out the count loudly, excitedly, indeed perhaps also focusing on the power of speech itself, for we may also focus on refining our speech, that trait that raises us above the animal kingdom.
An additional message embedded in the mitzvah of counting these days is to arouse within us the importance of time. If you use it well, it is yours forever; if you do not take the opportunity to count this day, the opportunity is gone forever. That is the reason behind the custom of a kallah giving her chatan a watch, suggests Rabbi Schorr in Halekach Vehalebuv. While the watch case may be beautiful, it is only the outer wrapping of the value of its contents, the value of time.
There seems to be a ripple in time in our parshah. Hashem tells Moshe to speak to Bnei Yisroel and tells them about all the moadim, the festivals. Then, in summation, Hashem says, "These are the festivals that you shall proclaim as holy convocations." What follows is not a list of the festivals, but an aside about Shabbat before returning to the festivals. Citing the Chasam Sofer, Rabbi Schorr notes that every day, when lived in a spirit of sanctity, becomes a day devoted to Hashem as is Shabbat. The sanctity of the festivals leads to Shabbat and Shabbat leads back to the festivals. Sefirah reminds us that every day is impactful, as each day is announced, "Today, this specific day, is day x in the omer, (a day that is holy and will not be repeated.)" This day will be used for sanctity.
Interestingly, the omer is an important concept in another area of Torah, reminds us Rabbi Bernstein quoting R. Yosef Salant zt”l. When the manna fell in the desert, the allotment was one omer per person. That passage, too, ends with the additional detail that the omer is one tenth of an ephah, thereby connecting the two passages. The most basic connection is to realize that just as Hashem provided us with food from heaven in the desert, so does the food that results from our toil in Eretz Yisroel come from Hashem.
The omer offering, brought from the first barley reaping of the year, serves as a concrete reminder of this truth. Coming as it does immediately after Pesach, we are reminded of Hashem's constant involvement in the world, whether through open miracles or through nature. In fact, notes Rabbi Bernstein, Bnei Yisroel continued eating the manna until they reaped their first crop in Eretz Yisroel, thereby connecting the two omers as segueing one into the other, with Hashem providing for both.
Pesach and Shavuot are forever linked. But the method of counting reveals that an additional miracle was embedded within the miracle of the manna. While the daily manna fell one omer per person, on Friday, a double portion fell, while on Shabbat, no manna fell. By counting both the days and the weeks, we are cognizant of both miracles. The message is forcefully conveyed; Hashem provides for me according to my needs irrespective of the time I invest in my physical sustenance. I can now reassess how I use my time.
Bringing the omer offering and thanking Hashem for this bounty from this first reaping permitted the farmer to now enjoy the crop of that year. This is the lesson of the omer offering, that I need to bless Hashem and thank Him for all that I have, for it is Hashem that has allowed me to be successful in my endeavors, not just through miracles, writes Rabbi Weiss zt”l in Shaarei Tuvya.
We begin the count in the spring, in gratitude for the past and in hope for the future. It is a time for intense gratitude for our freedom of Pesach, and for the new grain and intense prayer for the future. Rabbi Scheinerman brings us Yirmiyahu's lament and admonition, accusing Bnei Yisroel of being a "rebellious son" for not using this time for the prayer it needs. The success of our harvest depends on these weeks.
Tefillah is a mitzvah from the heart. Since we never have everything we want, we have constant opportunities for prayer, writes Rabbi Weiss, citing the Chazon Ish zt”l. If a person davens Keriyas Shema and Shemoneh Esrei with kavanah, focus and intent, Hashem will give him opportunities to study Torah and perform mitzvoth, and bring him success in these endeavors. We realize everything is in Hashem's control. Therefore, each of our daily prayer services ends in Aleinu Leshabeyach/ We are obligated to praise Hashem. Since counting the omer is in essence both a prayer of gratitude and of personal resolve, it is incumbent on each individual to count for himself, unlike other mitzvoth, such as Shabbat Kiddush where one can recite the blessing for others, teaches Rabbi Nevenzahl. Each person will approach his resolution with commitments suitable to his personal abilities.
It is with this reasoning that Rabbi Pincus suggests that there is no specific avodah or practice associated with the counting of these days. Each person uses his own gifts and challenges to pay for the privilege of drawing closer to Hashem just as one uses the particular currency of the land when making purchases in that country. The currency of Sefirah is time, days and weeks, and the coinage is stamped with our personal profiles. Each of us works toward Sinai in our own way, and each of us receives our personalized edition of Torah on Shavuot, just as each soul received the Torah at Sinai according to his own capabilities.
As Rabbi Pincus says, we are commanded to count seven full, complete weeks. Let us strive to fill this time with proper tefillah and mitzvoth so that they are truly complete.