How has it impacted on us?

Are we just focused on maintaining a streak, hoping we don’t miss a day, making it to the end while still reciting the blessing?

Most mitzvos we do, we at least have some semblance of understanding of what we are doing and what inspiration we are to draw from it. But the goal of Counting of the Omer seems to be about simply getting to the finish line. But what are left with at the end? How has this counting influenced us for the better?

Of course we were taught that ideally we are to focus on the upcoming anniversary of the Giving of the Torah, Shavuos, that we are counting towards, preparing ourselves each day by increasing our commitment and devotion to the study of Torah. Yet, year after year, we simply go through the motions, counting the days sheepishly, with nary a change in action or even in attitude.

There is a chapter in Psalms that is customary to recite each night after counting. Chapter 67, after its introductory verse: To the chief Musician: a Psalm with instrumental music, a song, goes on to express ‘seven’ verses, comprised of ‘forty nine’ words, which asks G-d to bless His people for the specific purpose of increasing His glory throughout the world.  We ask Him to grant us blessing, prosperity and success not for our own benefit and gratification, but rather for His own honor, as it were, so that across the earth He will be recognized as the Supreme Being and the true King over the universe.

Some suggest we recite this specific chapter because it possesses ‘seven’ verses and ‘forty nine’ words which correspond to the counting of seven weeks and forty nine days of the Omer.

Is that all there is to it?

The Psalm doesn’t seem to have any direct relevance to our tracking these days that commemorate the period of time, during the days when the Temple stood, that began with the  bringing of the Omer, on the second day of Pesach, and concluding with the holiday of Shavuos.

One of the Tosafists reveals that there is indeed a significant, albeit brief, sentiment that is germane to this period of time. (מושב זקנים)

In the sixth verse we read:

ארץ נתנה יבולה יברכנו אל-הים אל-הינו (תהלים סז ז), The earth will then have yielded its produce; may G-d bless us - our G-d.

He suggests that since Shavuos is termed חג הקציר, the Festival of the Harvest, as it heralds and celebrates the harvesting season; it is therefore appropriate during these days that lead up to the harvest, to acknowledge the blessings from G-d that enable us to partake from His bounty.

This is clearly based on a Midrash that directs us to a verse in Yirmiyah, where the Prophet admonishes the nation with the following words:

ולא אמרו בלבבם נירא נא את ד' אל-הינו הנותן יורה ומלקוש בעתו שבועות חוקות קציר ימר לנו (ירמיה ה כד),  And they did not say in their heart: ‘Let us now fear the Lord our G-d, that gives the early rain, and the latter rain in due season; the weeks of the laws of harvest He keeps for us.’

The Midrash explains that the Prophet is taking them to task for their smug confidence, after having experienced a healthy rain season, feeling secure that success will naturally follow course, delivering bountiful crops and harvest. He reminds them though of the ‘the weeks of the laws of harvest’, a reference to the seven weeks between Pesach and Shavuos, when there still exists the distinct possibility of ‘perilous dew and destructive winds’ that can ruin the crops that still require G-d’s vigilant protection.

The Midrash concludes that only if we fulfill the charge of  שבע שבתות תמימות תהיינה (ויקרא כג טו),  seven weeks, they shall be ‘complete’ , by carrying out the ‘will of G-d’, will we first achieve success. (ויק"ר כח ג ועץ יוסף שם)

So often in life the only times we turn to G-d is during times of desperation. When facing illness, an approaching enemy or becoming disabled, we know where we must turn. But when things are going smoothly; there’s money in the bank; our vital signs indicate superb health; all seems peaceful, we become complacent and naively assume the status quo will remain.

The Jews in the days of Yirmiyah too, became victims of their complacency. After a good winter and its nourishing rains they naturally assumed all would be good. They neglected to implement the message of counting ‘complete’ days. The greatness in serving G-d lies in devoting every ounce of one’s being, especially when one’s life is ‘perfect’. When one realizes that it is precisely in times of success that we are challenged to push ourselves as mightily, if not more so, than when we turn to G-d in times of desperation, that is when one attains ‘completeness’.

It is no coincidence that these two realities overlap; the season of harvest and the counting towards the day the Torah was received. It is only when we realize that our success should never be taken for granted and is contingent on devoting ourselves ‘completely’ to the task, that is when we be deserving of G-d’s continued blessing.

The word used here to imply this mission is: תמימות, literally meaning unblemished. The antonym of תמים, complete, is מום, a blemish. Why does the Torah choose to use this term rather than the more accurate description of perfection implicit in the word שלם, perfect?

A Kohen, a Priest, can only serve in the Temple if he is unblemished. This seems discriminatory. Is a person with a blemish less worthy in G-d’s eyes? On the contrary, wouldn’t one who overcame a disability and handicap perhaps even be on a higher spiritual plane than one who never faced that challenge?

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch makes a remarkable observation and statement regarding this puzzling issue.

It is not the afflicted and the infirm, not the blind and the lame, the  disfigured and crippled, the broken and the sick, for whom the Jewish Altar is erected, so that the weary, burdened humanity can drag itself up to it to find compassionate consolation or even miraculous healing. It is life in its completeness, in its freshness and strength, which there is to gain consecration to an active life of G-d serving deeds, and thereby acquire the everlasting freshness of youth and unbroken forces of life. Life and strength, not death and weakness, live at the Altars of G-d. They demand the surrendering of the whole human being to make man flourish in every phase of life...

In no way does the Torah diminish the worth of those who are ‘blemished’. But in the Temple, where we are taught that one must ‘surrender completely’ to G-d’s will, we must excuse the blemished from serving in order to quash the possibility of corrupting the true role of religion, lest a blemished notion be conveyed that implies religion is merely there to serve as a crutch for the infirm and a source of solace and consolation for the disabled. The requirement of unblemished priests firmly asserts, without any doubt, that man in his wholeness must submit his full strength and abilities in serving G-d completely.

We must want religion not merely need it.

So at the end of the day we recite Psalm 67 not simply to acknowledge His blessings in this harvest season. At a time when we are mightily successful after a strong winter we take our strengths and exclaim that it is not out of ‘need’ that we turn to G-d but rather out of a desire to devote  and submit our vast energies and talents completely to G-d. With this attitude we achieve our ultimate purpose on this earth.

Indeed, our days must be ‘unblemished’; days of initiated devotion, and not ‘blemished’ days; days of desperate devotion turning to G-d out of helplessness and dire need.

Although in ancient times the harvest season meant literally just that, in our days the ‘weeks of the laws of harvest’ take on a different meaning, referring to all our successes in life. During these days we must ponder the lack of awareness on our part regarding this contingency and how much we take for granted our ‘harvest’ by not investing enough time in the pursuit of Torah study and the promotion of mitzvos. Were we facing financial collapse we would gird our loins, pray with intensity, and devote significant time to increasing our merits of Torah study and charitable acts. Yet when we are comfortable with our conquests, we sit back and relax in our ‘total surrender’ to G-d’s will.

How often do we complain ‘our plate is full’ and we simply haven’t enough time to increase our learning? Would we rather have that ‘full plate’ disappear from before our eyes?

Which challenge would we rather; desperate need or the pressure of success?

Success indeed breeds success but only if it is laced with a complete surrender of our successes to His will.

We must live ‘unblemished days’ of renewed and inspired commitment appreciating our blessed bounty that will invigorate us with newfound energy to surrender our strengths completely to G-d.

באהבה,

צבי טייכמאן