Emor 5786: Why Counting Counts

GOOD MORNING! This week’s Torah portion – Emor – opens with laws related to the Cohanim, the priestly caste of the Jewish people. It begins by expressing the innate holiness of the Cohanim and the fact that they are not permitted to come into contact with the dead. There are many other associated laws for Cohanim, including what disqualifies them from service in the Holy Temple.

The second half of this week’s Torah portion discusses Shabbat and the Jewish holidays.

Between Passover and the holiday of Shavuot we have a Torah mandated obligation to count each of the 49 intervening days. This is known as the counting of the Omer. (Omer was a barley offering from the first harvest that the Jews would bring to the Temple in Jerusalem. An omer is also a measurement of volume equating to roughly 2.5 quarts.)

The Torah instructs us to count each and every one of the 49 days: “And you shall count for yourselves […]” (Leviticus 23:15).

The counting begins on the second day of Passover and the fiftieth day is Shavuot, the holiday celebrating receiving the Torah on Mount Sinai. There is actually a mitzvah to count each specific day, which is done at the completion of Ma’ariv, the evening service. This is particularly relevant to us as we are now in the intervening days between Passover and Shavuot. But why are we counting these days?

The great medieval sage and philosopher known as Nachmanides writes (Leviticus 23:26) that the days between Passover and Shavuot are counted to connect the two holidays into one elongated holiday. (He likens it to chol hamoed – the intervening days of Sukkot between the first day and the last day, which is actually a separate holiday known as Shemini Atzeret.)

Counting always reflects value. People count toward things they eagerly anticipate: a wedding, the birth of a child, or an important journey. We count the days from Passover to Shavuot because they are not two separate holidays, but one continuous process.

Passover represents physical freedom, the redemption from Egyptian slavery. However, freedom by itself is not the ultimate goal. Freedom without purpose, without Torah, is empty. The ultimate expression of freedom and true redemption was only reached when the Jewish people received the Torah on Mount Sinai on Shavuot. Without Torah, freedom has little value. Liberation from bondage is meaningful only when it leads to serving the Almighty.

This is why the sages of the Talmud regularly refer to Shavuot as “Atzeres,” the conclusion of Passover.

Thus, counting the Omer is not merely marking time; it is expressing longing and preparation. Each day matters because each day brings us closer to our purpose. We count because the Torah is precious, and because redemption without Torah is incomplete. We spend these 49 days preparing ourselves for being worthy of receiving the Torah on Shavuot.

This upcoming week, on Tuesday, May 5th, we will celebrate Lag B’Omer or the 33rd day of the Omer (in Hebrew the word lag has a numerical value of 33). What is this holiday all about?

The days between Passover and Shavuot are actually a somber time – it is a period of national semi-mourning, thus there are no weddings scheduled during this time. Additionally, many do not get haircuts or even shave during this time. Why? Because it was during this time period, some 2000 years ago, that Rabbi Akiva’s 24,000 students died for not showing sufficient respect for each other.

On Lag B’Omer, the 33rd day of the Omer, the plague that was killing Rabbi Akiva’s disciples ended. In addition, it is the yahrzeit (yearly anniversary of the death) of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, reputed author of the Zohar, the famous book of Jewish mysticism. Tradition has it that the day of his demise was filled with a great light of endless joy through the secret wisdom that he revealed to the world through the Zohar.

In Israel, Lag B’Omer is celebrated with huge bonfires across the country. From Pesach onwards, children gather fallen branches and build pyres – some 20 and 30 feet high! Then, as the sky grows dark on Lag B’Omer, they are lit and the sky is filled with flames (and smoke). The fires are symbolic of both the light of wisdom Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai brought into the world and as a “yahrzeit candle” in memory of his passing and for R’ Akiva’s students. Haircuts and weddings take place on this date and there is much festivity including dancing, singing, and music.

This period of national mourning for R’ Akiva’s students has been observed for almost two thousand years. But this tragic episode in Jewish history also forces us to confront a very difficult question: How is it possible that the students of R’ Akiva, the teacher who famously said, “‘Love thy friend as thyself’ is a towering principle of the Torah,” would be guilty of not according proper respect to their friends? How is it possible that R’ Akiva’s guiding principle would be ignored by his very own students?

There are two seemingly contradictory teachings in Pirkei Avos (Ethics of our Fathers). In the second chapter we find: “R’ Elieazer says, let the honor of your friend be as precious to you as your own.” Yet in the fourth chapter we have a quote from R’ Elazar ben Shamua: “The honor of your friend should be like the reverence accorded your teacher.” Well, which one is it? Should the honor of your friend be as precious as your own or as that of your teacher’s?

There is no contradiction. There are different types of friendships, and each one requires a different level of devotion. Maimonides, in his commentary on the first chapter on the teaching “acquire for yourself a friend,” quotes Aristotle in explaining that there are three categories of friendships. Aristotle, in his work Nicomachean Ethics, outlines the three types of friendships: 1) those based on utility 2) those based on pleasure or delight 3) those grounded in virtue.

The first category (friendship based on utility) is the most common type of friendship. This is when people associate for a mutual usefulness to each other. An example of a friendship based on utility would be business partnerships; each partner needs the other and they share common interests. Likewise, a coworker is a friend because they have a mutual interest and often do things for each other. Thus, a bond develops.

The second category (friendship based on pleasure) would include associations based on how the other person makes one feel; a romantic relationship will cause one to feel loved or a hilarious friend is constantly entertaining. Both of these categories of relationships are self-oriented, with the basis of the bond being what each individual gets out of it. These are the types of friendships for which we are enjoined by R’ Eliezer to treat our friends with the same respect we would want to be treated. Meaning, even though the relationship is rooted in self-centeredness we must still focus on what is good for the other person as well.

The third and highest level of friendship is when the focus of the bond is based on an outward focus of doing for the other. The purpose and basis of this connection is that each friend is helping the other grow and reach their potential as they learn from one another. Maimonides continues, “and this is similar to the love of a teacher to his student.” In other words, there is a type of friendship in which the relationship demands that each person treats the other as if he were his teacher.

Of course there’s a dangerous pitfall to selfish friendships; sometimes they are mutually self-destructive. That is when neither party properly respects themselves and they facilitate a downward spiritual spiral for one other. Whether it’s participating in self-destructive behavior or condoning morally questionable acts, this an absolute failure in one’s responsibilities as a friend. The only way to avoid this pitfall is to expect more from the people in your life.

That is what R’ Elazar ben Shamua meant by “the honor of your friend should be as precious as the reverence of your teacher.” We must put our friends on a pedestal and not tolerate their self-destructive behavior. This is what the students of R’ Akiva failed to do. They only treated their friends with the respect demanded by R’ Akiva’s dictum of loving your friend like yourself. They failed to treat each other with the respect due to a teacher.

Unquestionably, this is why we learn the lesson from R’ Elazar ben Shamua. As the Talmud relates, he was one of R’ Akiva’s final students, one of the last five ordained by R’ Akiva.

R’ Elazar ben Shamua had internalized the bitter lesson that befell the earlier students of R’ Akiva. This is why he taught that it isn’t enough to treat your friends with the respect you would demand for yourself. You are obligated to treat them with the same respect due to a teacher.

Lastly, if we are obligated to choose our friends wisely and treat them with reverence and the utmost respect, how much more so for our family; our parents, spouses, and children. Thus, this is also the perfect time of year to take an internal accounting as to how we are doing in the area of familial relationships. Once we mend all of these relationships we begin to get properly prepared for receiving the Torah on Shavuot.

Emor, Leviticus 21:1 - 24:27

This week's the portion sets forth the standards of purity and perfection for a Cohen; specifies the physical requirements of sacrifices and what is to be done with blemished offerings; proclaims as holidays the Shabbat, Pesach, Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot.

It reminds the Jewish people to provide pure olive oil for the Menorah and designates the details of the Showbread (two stacks of 6 loaves each, which were placed on the table in the portable sanctuary and later in the Temple once a week upon Shabbat).

The portion ends with the interesting story of a man who blasphemed God’s name with a curse. What should be the penalty for this transgression? Curious? Leviticus 24:14.