Why We Count Up, Not Down, to the 50th Day

The days of Sefirat HaOmer are the in-between period between the holiday of Pesach and the holiday of Shavuot. Both holidays symbolize redemption. The first represents physical, tangible redemption: a people of slaves with no self-will, aspirations, or longings who, after years of crushing body and spirit, left that iron furnace and tasted freedom. But that was not a complete redemption.

Their spirit remained bound to Egypt. After so much suffering, it was hard to forget that terrible time. So, after 50 days from the physical redemption, they were given the Torah—the redemption of the spirit—and with that, the Exodus from Egypt was completed. As Chazal explain, "No one is truly free except one who engages in Torah." As noted, this period between Pesach and Atzeret is called the days of "Sefirat HaOmer".

Chazal noted that from the day after Pesach we are to count the days until the giving of the Torah, to instill within us yearning and aspiration for Matan Torah. The counting is done as follows: "Today is one day of the Omer, two days of the Omer, etc."—continuing until 49 days of the Omer, and on the 50th day, the holiday of Shavuot (the day of Matan Torah).

The way we phrase the count raises a question. Since the longed-for day is the 50th, why don’t we count down? A person sentenced to a month in jail counts how many days remain until release—not how many have passed. Yet in the Omer count we add and go forward each day: we have completed one day since the start of the count, two days since the start... two weeks and three days since the start of the count, and so on.

In truth, there is a deep, foundational idea here that reflects Judaism’s view of life. A couple with a wedding date set for two months from now yearn for the arrival of each day, hoping for the longed-for day. In their hearts they feel that the big day will be full of joy and happiness, while the days of waiting seem empty and contentless compared with the "big" day—just days to get through.

The wedding day is indeed important and joyous. But that does not diminish the value of the waiting days. A core point in Judaism is that there is no such thing as "just another day," and the idea of "killing time" doesn’t belong. Every day matters and has purpose. A person comes into the world to fulfill a particular role during their lifetime. (Time is a feature of the world, and we are within it to complete a specific mission.)

This mission is a life’s work. Every day we fulfill our role brings us closer to completing the mission; a day squandered distances us from the very purpose for which we came into the world. Therefore, during the days of Sefirat HaOmer, even though the longed-for day is the holiday of Shavuot, that does not lessen the value of the other days—each day carries great significance.

Each day is unique in the meaning it holds. By counting in this way ("Today is one day of the Omer," "Today is two days of the Omer," "Two weeks of the Omer," and so on) rather than counting down—which would reduce the value of the days passing and put the awaited day on a pedestal—we sharpen the foundational truth that every day is elevated and should be used well; we are not to let time slip away to emptiness.

This principle is already highlighted in our Torah regarding Avraham Avinu (whom Chazal call "Avraham HaIvri" because his outlook on life differed from the whole world—everyone stood on one side, and he stood on the other). It says of him, "And Abraham was old, advanced in days," and Chazal explain that although he was very old, he "came with his days"—he brought all his days complete and full before Hashem.

He made full use of them and fulfilled his role in the world completely. In our time—the modern age—many things have advanced and improved, among them the culture of leisure and entertainment. Notice the Hebrew word for "leisure" (bilu'i) shares a root with "wearing out" and "waste"; similarly, the word for "entertainment" (bidur) comes from Aramaic and means "dispersion" (lack of focus). The goal of a culture built on leisure and entertainment is to pass the time—often a symptom of dissatisfaction and emptiness.

Take, for example, a surgeon in the middle of open-heart surgery. It’s unthinkable that the doctor would drop everything to watch TV or go shoot hoops, because every moment is essential and fateful, and a small mistake could cost a life.

Like that surgeon, we are in the thick of life, where every second matters. Each passing moment is a one-time opportunity to be used. We need to be centered, focused, and attentive to what we are doing—to the goal before our eyes.

We carry a heavy responsibility on our shoulders, which we must complete with maximum success and minimum mistakes. [This doesn’t mean we’re forbidden to catch our breath, but turning what should be a means of recharging for the battles ahead into an end in itself—constant "entertainment" around which life revolves—is a serious detour from the path and causes us to miss the mark.] In sum: by counting the Omer in the way it is counted (and by rejecting the alternative—counting down), the Creator calls us to change our approach to life and look at it with greater depth: to fill our lives with real substance, fulfill our role in the world, and make the most of every single moment.