As Cantor Michaeli shared in this space just last week, we are currently in the period of the Counting of the Omer, during which many Jewish people count each day from Passover to Shavuot.
What does it mean to count the days and weeks between these holidays? For me, above all else, the omer serves as a reminder that Passover (our holiday of freedom) and Shavuot (our holiday of receiving Torah) are connected. Once we are free – as the Ancient Israelites suddenly found themselves to be, on the other side of the parted red sea, and as we remind ourselves we are, yearly in the spring – we face a different challenge: what should we do with our freedom?
The Ancient Israelites in the wilderness, whose story we re-read each year, answered this question by accepting the Torah. They used their newfound freedom to commit to a code of ethical living, a specific form of relationship with each other, with other people, with the earth, and with God.
Shavuot, which begins next Thursday night, is our time to remember that we are the inheritors of their covenant and the authors of its next chapter. Part of what that means, I think, is that Shavuot asks of us: what will we do with our freedom? How will each of us recommit to living ethical lives?
Broadly speaking, in Jewish tradition, one of the reasons we need to keep asking ourselves this question is that the world keeps changing, and so the ways that we follow the commandments might need to change along with it. Take, for example, the commandment that the great sage Akiva argued was the central commandment of the Torah: “love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). Loving our neighbors, and loving ourselves, may look similar from year to year, but as we face new challenges, and potentially, also have access to new opportunities, “love your neighbor as yourself” might require of us actions we’ve never undertaken before.
Every Shavuot becomes an opportunity to ask ourselves: what are my ethical obligations in the world, and what are the ways I can fulfill them? Some years, our answers to this question might lead us to recommit to actions we are already taking, and other years, this question might be a catalyst to explore new ways of being, new connections, and new possibilities.
The question “what will we do with our freedom” also encourages us to identify avenues of agency in our lives … even if, or when, we are feeling less-than-powerful. It can be easy (at least for me! And maybe sometimes for you, too!) to become overwhelmed with what we can’t do. The period of the omer, this long multi-week temporal thread connecting Passover to Shavuot, can remind us to search for the things we can do.
And in Judaism, revelation is collective. Part of what this means is that if we’re not sure how to figure out what we can do to make a difference, Jewish tradition encourages us to reach out to others, and draw on our wisdom and support. We don’t have to go it alone.
Perhaps because this week’s Torah portion, Bamidbar, is often read right before Shavuot, many of the classical midrashim based on B’midbar deal with the question: how do we spiritually prepare to receive Torah (and recommit to an ethical life)? One of my favorite midrashic explorations of this question, from the medieval compilation Bamidbar Rabbah, goes like this:
“‘God spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai …’ (Numbers 1:1). From here [i.e., riffing off of this verse of Torah], the sages taught that the Torah was given with three things: with fire, with water, and in the wilderness. [The midrash goes on to point out verses from the Tanakh where the Torah is connected or analogized to each of these three, and then goes on to say:] Why was the Torah given with these three things? Just as fire, water, and wilderness are free for all who dwell on earth, so too words of Torah are free to all who dwell on earth.” (Bamidbar Rabbah, 1:7)
In other words: the wisdom we need to live an ethical and connected life? It is available to us! Our task is to go and learn it, and make it our own.
As we approach this Shavuot, and always, may we all find our way to the Torah we most need.
