Beginning with the second night of Pesach we count the Omer until we arrive in our calendar at Shavuot. To help you with the counting, we have prepared a leaflet for you with a calendar, the blessings, and the numbers (download link below and available in the Shul).
Traditionally, the Omer is counted in the evening, after sunset.
Counting the Days Between Freedom and Purpose
The Jewish calendar is deeply attuned to time. It maps the rhythms of nature — the cycle of the moon, the tilt of the sun, the turn of the seasons. Yet, there’s one constant that pays no mind to the calendar pages or weather reports: Shabbat. It arrives every week, whether Friday night feels like a Tuesday or a Thursday, whether it’s midsummer or midwinter. During lockdown, when every day blurred into the next, I came to cherish that rhythm. Shabbat reminded me that not all days are the same — some are set apart, sacred in their stillness.
There’s another curious rhythm in our calendar: the Counting of the Omer. This stretch of 49 days begins on the second night of Pesach and ends on the eve of Shavuot. Each day, according to tradition, must be counted — deliberately and with blessing — just after sunset. There are calendars for it, apps, even WhatsApp groups. And of course, we’ve included an Omer counting sheet on our website to help you keep track.
Now, technically speaking, an omer is a biblical measure of grain. Originally, this was a purely agricultural count — a countdown from the first barley offering in the spring to the wheat harvest marked by Shavuot. But over time, Shavuot evolved. No longer just a harvest festival, it became the moment we commemorate receiving the Torah at Sinai. And so, the rabbis sought a deeper meaning for the counting itself — because it’s a mitzvah in the Torah, and not one we can simply brush aside.
I’ve come to love the spiritual arc of this count. The Omer marks the journey between physical liberation — our exodus from slavery in Egypt — and the moment of moral purpose when we stood at Sinai. Day by day, we step through that transformation. From freedom into responsibility. From survival into vision.
And that matters. Because liberation, on its own, isn’t enough. It’s what we do with our freedom that defines its value — how we protect it, extend it, share it. Every generation must make that journey again. Every one of us must learn how to nurture the fragile plant called freedom, so it grows strong enough to shelter others, too.
As we count our way through this Omer season, may we also count our blessings, and hold close the hope that those still held captive in Gaza will soon be released. May their suffering come to an end, and may a lasting peace settle over Israel and the region.
May we all go from strength to strength — in our own lives, and in the life we build together as a community.
Rabbi Adrian M. Schell
