We’ve been counting the Omer for the past several weeks in our excitement to receive the Torah, but did you ever wonder what the Omer has to do with it?
The “Omer” refers to a barley offering brought on the second day of Pesach. But if that offering was already brought, why are we still counting in reference to it? Moreover, the word omer is a unit of measurement. When did we start referring to a korban by its volume? Typically, korbanot are named for their purpose or function: a sin offering is called a Chatat, and a guilt offering is called an Asham. Why, then, is this offering referred to by its size?
There’s another inconsistency as well. In most places where the Torah describes meal offerings, the measurement used is either a tenth of an eiphah or an issaron. Why, suddenly, is the term omer used?
To begin to answer these questions, it’s important to note that the word omer appears in only one other place in the Torah: in Parshat Beshalach, in connection with the manna. There, the Torah repeatedly refers to the daily portion of manna as an omer. The fact that this unusual term appears only in these two contexts—the manna and the Omer offering—suggests a deliberate link.
The Torah is drawing a connection between the Sefirat HaOmer, the count between Pesach and Matan Torah, and the manna that sustained Bnei Yisrael in the desert. As is well known, the manna represents Hashem’s direct and miraculous provision of our physical needs.
Rabbi Salant explains that life in the desert, in many ways, was spiritually ideal. All of Bnei Yisrael’s physical needs were taken care of, allowing them to focus entirely on Torah and mitzvot. However, once they entered Eretz Yisrael, they had to work the land and sustain themselves through natural means. This shift brought with it a new spiritual danger: the preoccupation with physical survival could distract them from spiritual growth.
What was the Torah’s solution?
By connecting the Omer to the manna, the Torah is teaching that even in the land, when we work and harvest the fruits of our labor, we must internalize that our sustenance still comes from Hashem. The Omer offering is brought from the very first harvest of the year, a time of great excitement and satisfaction for farmers. By taking that very first barley and offering it to Hashem, we affirm that He is the true source of our livelihood. The lesson we learned from the manna—that Hashem is our provider—is revisited through the mitzvah of the Omer.
This also sheds light on a Midrash that states the mitzvah of the Omer is a prerequisite for inheriting the Land of Israel. Based on what we’ve said, this makes perfect sense. Our continued existence in the land depends on recognizing that it is Hashem who sustains us. That recognition is what secures our spiritual and physical foothold in Eretz Yisrael.
Why is this message especially relevant during the days leading up to Matan Torah?
A person’s ability to receive the Torah is rooted in the recognition that Hashem is in total control. True kabbalat hatorah requires full submission—of body, mind, and soul—to the will of Hashem. Only with that sense of dependence and humility can one truly become an eved Hashem, a servant of God.
This message has a powerful application to Jewish education.
Just as the Omer teaches us to recognize Hashem as our true provider—even when we’re engaged in physical effort—so too, Jewish education must instill in our children that success in life doesn’t come from effort alone, but from Hashem. We educate not just for knowledge, but to develop emunah and bitachon. The counting of the Omer reminds us that spiritual growth depends on internalizing this truth, something that should lie at the heart of every Jewish classroom.