What Was the Omer Offering (Korban Ha’omer)?

On the evening after [the first day of] Passover, all of the inhabitants of all the neighboring villages would gather so that it would be reaped with much flourish. They would have three men reap three se’ah of barley in three baskets with three sickles.

When it became dark, the reapers would ask those standing in attendance:

«Has the sun set?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Has the sun set?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Has the sun set?» They would answer: «Yes.»

«Is this a sickle?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Is this a sickle?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Is this a sickle?» They would answer: «Yes.»

«Is this a basket?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Is this a basket?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Is this a basket?» They would answer: «Yes.»

If it was the Sabbath, they would ask:

«Is it the Sabbath?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Is it the Sabbath?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Is it the Sabbath?» They would answer: «Yes.»

Afterwards, they would ask:

«Should I reap?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Should I reap?» They would answer: «Yes.» «Should I reap?» They would answer: «Yes.”

After reaping, they would bring the barley to the Temple courtyard, where they beat, winnowed and roasted the kernels over the fire in a cylinder. The kernels were then spread out in the Temple courtyard and the wind wafted through it. The barley was then brought to a mill and ground to produce three se’ah (approximately 6.5 gal.), and after it had been sifted with 13 sifters, an issaron (one-tenth) was removed.

This issaron of fine barley flour was taken and mixed with oil, and a handful of frankincense was placed upon it. It was waved in the eastern portion of the Temple courtyard in all four directions— up, down, right and left. It was then brought close to the tip of the southwest corner of the altar like the other meal offerings. A handful of the meal was taken and offered on the altar’s pyre. The remainder was eaten by the priests like the remainder of all other meal offerings.

Counting of the Omer

The Torah commands us to count 50 days from the day we brought the Omer, and on the 50th day another grain offering was brought. However, unlike the one brought on the second day of Passover, this offering, known as the Shtei Halechem (“two loaves”) was brought from the new wheat. Although the grains from the new crop had been allowed for personal consumption since the Omer offering, they would not use any of the new grain for Temple offerings until this second offering of the two loaves was offered up in the Temple.

As the verse states, “You shall count for yourselves . . . from the day you bring the omer as a wave offering seven weeks . . . You shall count until the day after the seventh week, [namely,] the 50th day, [on which] you shall bring a new meal offering to the L-rd.”

This counting between these two offerings is known as the Sefirat Haomer, “Counting of the Omer.”

Wait! What Are We Counting To?

At this point, the obvious question arises: Isn’t Sefirat Haomer the counting of the days between Passover and Shavuot, the holiday that commemorates the Giving of the Torah? Yet, it seems that the counting is actually associated with the Omer offering (not Passover) and leads up to the wheat offering, not necessarily Shavuot!

Don’t Mix Celebrations

Some explain that, in truth, we should begin counting the days to the holiday of Shavuot from the first day of Passover. After all, the point of counting is to show our desire and yearning to get the Torah. However, we don’t want to detract from the celebration of the Exodus by already talking about the next holiday, so we begin counting from the second day of Passover. However, rather than count each day by saying “It is X days from the second day of Passover,” we count the Omer offering that was brought that day.

Internalizing Faith

Others explain that as indicated by the verse, the counting is indeed connected to the two offerings. We start counting from when the Omer offering was harvested until the offering of the two loaves. Since these are the days that the new crops are harvested, we are commanded to count these days to remember to pray to G-d that the new crop be bountiful.

Yet others explain that since people are occupied with harvesting their crops, the Torah commands us to count so they don’t get sidetracked from the upcoming holiday of Shavuot.

Barley, Wheat and the Giving of the Torah

Based on the above, it seems as though there are disparate opinions regarding the reason for counting: (a) that it is connected to the Giving of the Torah, and the omer is really a side point; or (b) that it is connected to the new wheat and not so much to the Giving of the Torah. However, if one looks a bit deeper, both explanations are connected.

Barley is generally considered to be a grain fit for livestock, as opposed to wheat, which is considered fit for humans. Thus, commentaries explain that we aren’t just counting the days from the Exodus until the day we were given the Torah; rather, these are meant to be days of refinement. Each one of the 49 days corresponds to another one of the 49 drives and character traits we have within us.

Thus, we are commanded to start counting and refining ourselves from when the offering consisting of barley was brought. For at the onset of this spiritual journey, we are coarse and similar to an animal. But by the end of our spiritual journey, we have refined ourselves and we are ready to bring an offering consisting of wheat, the food staple of mankind.

By Yehuda Shurpin

Moral is Normal

If anyone was bent on convincing us that Torah was old-fashioned, this would be a good Parshah to prove it. Leviticus, Chapter 18, contains the Bible’s Immorality Act. Our moral code, the forbidden relationships, who may marry whom and who may not— all come from this week’s reading.

We read this same chapter every year on Yom Kippur afternoon. And every year in every Shul around the world someone asks the very same question. «Why on Yom Kippur, Rabbi? Was there no other section of the Torah to choose besides the one about illicit sex? Is this an appropriate choice to read in Shul on the holiest day of the year?»

Fair question. So the Rabbis explain that this is, in fact, the ultimate test of our holiness. The most challenging arena of human conduct, the one that really tests the mettle of our morality, is not how we behave in the synagogue but how we behave in our bedrooms. To conduct ourselves appropriately in public is far easier than to be morally consistent in our intimate lives.

Old-fashioned? You bet. In a world of ever-changing, relative morality where gay marriages and Euthanasia have become acceptable, the Torah does indeed seem rather antiquated.

Man-made laws are forever being amended to suit changing times and circumstances. When a new superhighway is built, traffic officials may decide that it is safe to raise the speed limit. Should there be a fuel shortage, these same officials may decide to lower the speed limit in order to conserve the energy supply. Human legislation is constantly adapting to fluctuating realities. But G - d’s laws are constant, consistent and eternal. Divine legislation governs moral issues. Values, ethics, right and wrong, these are eternal, neverchanging issues. Humankind has been confronting these problems since time immemorial. From cavemen to Attilla the Hun to nuclear superpowers, the essential issues really have not changed very much. Questions of moral principle, good and evil, have been there from the very beginning. Life choices are made by each of us in every generation. These questions are timeless.

So we read that adultery was forbidden in Moses’ day and it still is in ours. So is incest. But it wouldn’t shock me at all if the same forces motivating for new sexual freedoms soon began campaigning for incestuous relationships to become legal. And why not? If it’s all about consenting adults, why deny siblings? Given the slippery slope of our moral mountains, nothing is unthinkable any more.

Ultimately, morality cannot be decided by referendum. We desperately need a higher authority to guide us in the often confusing dilemmas of life. In Egypt and Canaan lots of degenerate behavior was acceptable, even popular. In this week’s Parshah, G - d tells His people that He expects us to march to a different beat. We are called upon to be a holy nation, distinctively different in this, the most challenging test of our morality. It doesn’t matter what is legal or trendy in Egypt, Canaan, America or Scandinavia. We have our own moral guide, our own book of books which requires no editing or revised editions for the new age. Because right is right and wrong is wrong and so it will always be.

A wise rabbi once wrote that we mustn’t confuse «normal» with «average.» Since there are people out there who, tragically, may have lost a leg, this would mean that the «average» person has something like 1.97 legs. But that isn’t quite «normal.» A normal person has two legs. When Torah teaches us to be holy and distinctive, it is reminding us to be normal, not average. Average can be rather mediocre. Just be normal and retain your Jewish uniqueness. It may not be easy. It may not be politically correct. You probably will not win any popularity contests. But you will be faithful to the eternal truths of life. And in the long run, you will be right.

By Yossy Goldman