Pesach - 5777

Pesach - 5777

Rabbi Hal Miller

You shall count for yourselves, from the day after the Shabbos, from the day when you

bring the Omer of the waving, seven weeks, they shall be complete.

Until the day after the seventh week you shall count, fifty days, and you shall offer a new

meal offering to Hashem. [Vayikra 23:15-16]

What is the purpose of the Omer count? Many commentators expend a lot of ink discussing

the "day after the Shabbos" phrase and others discussing the double counting of days and

weeks, but why count at all? What does it mean? The most common two answers given in

public circles tie it either to the giving of the Torah at Sinai or to the deaths of tens of

thousands of Rabbi Akiva's students. But do either of these explanations make sense?

Ramban notes that "the count of days begins at the beginning of the barley harvest," and

that "the count is completed at the beginning of the wheat harvest." Rashbam takes it a

step further and declares the people are anxiously awaiting that wheat crop. Nechama

Leibowitz says that the count is to ensure we leave the crop in the field long enough to get

enough dew to fully develop and ripen. But the method of the counting presents a problem

for this approach, which we will see in a moment.

Rosh attributes "this precept to the people's preoccupation and absence from home at harvest

time," such that they miss the Torah-required trip to Jerusalem for Shavuot. He says that

the count is a reminder. Leibowitz attacks this strongly, saying that the Omer count is not a

substitute for a pocket calendar.

In the camp of those tying it to the revelation on Mount Sinai, Nachshoni compares the Omer

count to that of a niddah, and tells us that the purpose is to purify the nation prior to G-d's

appearance and our receiving the Torah. Maharal is close to this when he cites Pirkei Avos

with regard to combining Sinai and harvests, "without flour, there is no Torah."

My mechutanin, Rabbi Nathan Laufer ("Rendevous with God", Maggid Press) asks our

question and reviews the various opinions. He then asks about the method of counting. If, as

is so commonly mentioned, the sefira is about Rabbi Akiva's students, why would the Torah

command it more than a thousand years before Rabbi Akiva? Why would a period of mourning

be part of the festival cycle?

Turning to the other primary explanation, Rabbi Laufer asks about the tie to Sinai. If the

people were anxious to obtain the Torah, and were counting the days until they received the

benefit of G-d's promise, wouldn't they count down instead of up? Fifty days to go, forty-nine

days to go, etc. This question also applies to the above issue of people awaiting the ripening of

the wheat crop. Laufer goes through the mentions of Shavuos in the Torah--none mention Sinai,

and none of the Sinai verses mention Shavuos. Instead, both Devarim and Megillah tell us

that the Omer count should remind us of our slavery in Egypt, which is the other end of the

period of the count. Additionally, the classic approach is in fact off by one day: assuming we

begin the count on the second day of Pesach, the Torah was actually given on the fifty-first

day, not the fiftieth, which he shows by calendar.

Perhaps Rav Hirsch has the best explanation. He compares the counting command to

other similar commands, in particular Yovel. In the case of Omer, it is not the representatives

of the nation who do the count, but each and every one of us has that duty. We have just each

celebrated our freedom, both nationally and as individuals. Now we are on our way to the

next stop, the next Divine promise, that of prosperity in our land. The count is to remind us

that having achieved the goal of freedom, we must not sit upon our laurels, but begin a new

effort toward a new goal. The freedom alone is great, but it is not complete. We must tie it to

possession of our own land. The stop at Sinai, although hugely important, was merely that--

a stop along the way, the next goal in the process. The command teaches us that we may not

consider ourselves successful in life just to have a good history, but we must always be

working toward a good future to make that history worthwhile.