Every year, between Passover and Shavuot, we participate in what has been called Judaism’s “longest “ mitzvah—the counting of the omer. Omer refers to a quantity (about 1.34 quarts) of grain (specifically barley, the first of the five grain species to ripen) that was brought to the Temple in Jerusalem every single day during the 49-day period in question.
An obvious question presents itself: if we haven’t had a Temple in Jerusalem for nearly 2,000 years, why do we keep counting these days? A common and compelling explanation is that Passover represents the moment of our physical and political liberation from Egyptian slavery. Shavuot, when we received the Torah, represents the moment of our spiritual liberation. By counting every day of the omer, we symbolically link these two aspects of liberation.
A meaningful interpretation to be sure. But I would like to offer an alternative view which is especially compelling in this day and age. Let us first understand the full structure of the omer ritual. Before the omer was brought to the Temple, it was forbidden to eat any newly ripening grain. The omer was brought from the ripening barley. Just as vintners can describe to the inch the terroir in which a particular grape grows, so too the rabbis of the Talmudic period were able to specify the very fields in which the barley ripened over these seven weeks, and in which order they ripened.
Maimonides outlines what the harvesting ritual looked like: “On the evening of the second day of Passover, all of the inhabitants of all the neighboring villages would gather so the barley would be reaped with much flourish. They would have three men reap three se’ah (roughly 6 gallons) 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.”
The barley would be brought to the Temple, where it would go through all the beating, winnowing, roasting, separating, grinding, and sifting that goes into making flour. And from there, the flour was mixed with oil, covered with frankincense, waved to the four corners of the earth and then sacrificed—some to Hashem and some to the priests.
This was arguably the most elaborate of all the sacrificial rituals. But why?
There is a one word answer to that question, one which we will come to understand if we examine a similar ritual from about 6500 miles from Jerusalem, namely the Cherokee Green Corn festival. The Cherokee native American nation held three agricultural rituals: planting at the beginning; harvesting at the end; and in between, the green corn festival, as the grain began to ripen. Before then, just as in Israel, it was forbidden to eat of the new grain. Green corn was sacrificed with elaborate dances and rituals, just as in Israel.
An observer, looking at the Cherokee nation, could only think one thought—indigeneity. The Cherokee were the proud people of this land. They knew and respected its natural cycles; knew and celebrated that the flow of nature was a gift from the Divine; and underscored their awareness with rituals that hallowed the gift of life on the land.
Indigeneity.
So too, the Jews. Counting the omer is about indigeneity.
The Cherokee went through their exile (the infamous Trail of Tears), and we went through ours. The Cherokee maintained their ceremony continuously, even though they were forcibly removed from their original location. We have not been able to continue, because our omer ritual can only be carried out in Israel and Jerusalem. But the fact is that year after year, century after century, from Sydney to Sevastopol, we have counted the days as if we could, at any moment, come back to our land and pick up where we left off.
Because the land is, and always has been, and always will be, ours.
Tucker Carlson has recently suggested that Benjamin Netanyahu go through DNA testing to prove a connection to the Middle East. Not that anyone should really care what Tucker Carlson thinks (the Inquisition is, after all, over) but the fact is that we don’t need to count genetic markers to know where we come from. We just need to count the omer.