Rabbinic Intern Elli's Message
May 2022

As we move out of Pesach and toward Shavuot, we have a unique practice. We count each day, fulfilling the mitzvah of counting the Omer.
Counting the Omer is a strange tradition in some ways. It’s a simple commandment, to count the seven weeks of seven days between Passover and Shavuot, to remind ourselves, each day, that one day has passed or ten days or thirty days. Counting the Omer is a practice of waiting.
I must admit that I myself am not always the most patient person, and waiting is difficult for me. I also have found, somehow, that the Omer consistently ends up marking important times and phases in my life. In 2019, I counted the Omer as I spent my last days in Minnesota, preparing to move to Boston. Last year, as I counted the Omer, I was in Seattle, spending time with my mother, taking her to dialysis, and later in Boston moving out of the communal home I’d lived in for the past two years.
I try to practice patience as I count. Shavuot is my favorite Jewish holiday, and it often lands near my birthday. I love Shavuot’s focus on learning and connecting with God—and of course, eating cheese and ice cream.
But the practice of this waiting and counting reminds us that we cannot hurry our way to revelation or past what is hard. We need to wait, in the desert. We need to know that we can handle the passing of time, as we heal and change and grow.
As I count the Omer this year, I am so grateful to have spent time with all of you and to have been part of Temple Emanu-El. Thank you for inviting me into your community, learning with me, and growing with me.
Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al sefirat ha Omer.
Blessed are you, Adonai our God, ruler of the Universe, who sanctified us with your mitzvot and commanded us to count the Omer.
Chodesh tov!
Rabbinic Intern Elli
Counting the Omer is a strange tradition in some ways. It’s a simple commandment, to count the seven weeks of seven days between Passover and Shavuot, to remind ourselves, each day, that one day has passed or ten days or thirty days. Counting the Omer is a practice of waiting.
I must admit that I myself am not always the most patient person, and waiting is difficult for me. I also have found, somehow, that the Omer consistently ends up marking important times and phases in my life. In 2019, I counted the Omer as I spent my last days in Minnesota, preparing to move to Boston. Last year, as I counted the Omer, I was in Seattle, spending time with my mother, taking her to dialysis, and later in Boston moving out of the communal home I’d lived in for the past two years.
I try to practice patience as I count. Shavuot is my favorite Jewish holiday, and it often lands near my birthday. I love Shavuot’s focus on learning and connecting with God—and of course, eating cheese and ice cream.
But the practice of this waiting and counting reminds us that we cannot hurry our way to revelation or past what is hard. We need to wait, in the desert. We need to know that we can handle the passing of time, as we heal and change and grow.
As I count the Omer this year, I am so grateful to have spent time with all of you and to have been part of Temple Emanu-El. Thank you for inviting me into your community, learning with me, and growing with me.
Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al sefirat ha Omer.
Blessed are you, Adonai our God, ruler of the Universe, who sanctified us with your mitzvot and commanded us to count the Omer.
Chodesh tov!
Rabbinic Intern Elli