The season of sefira draws our attention to the passage of time. We mark each day with an account of the days and weeks that have gone by. This ritual timekeeping follows the joyous celebration of yetziat mitzrayim, which is marked by a very different relationship to time. After hundreds of years in bondage, when Bnai Yisrael finally have the opportunity to leave, time is of the essence.
Everything happens in a rush. They eat the Pesach sacrifice behipazon, with haste. Huddled anxiously in their homes while the firstborn of Egypt are struck down around them, they have to be ready to leave at any moment. They eat what should be a celebratory meal with their shoes on and their staffs in hand. Rashi explains that the word Pesach doesn’t just refer to God “passing over” Jewish homes and saving the Jewish firstborn, but also to the idea of skipping or leaping – moving quickly.
The matzah also comes about as a result of skipping – they had no time to follow the proper steps of making bread from dough by allowing it to rest before being baked. Matzah serves as a “fast food” for a people on the go. For those in a hurry, rest is a luxury we can ill afford.
However, once Bnai Yisrael leave Egypt, they hit a significant delay. We read in Beshalach:
וַיְהִי בְּשַׁלַּח פַּרְעֹה אֶת־הָעָם וְלֹא־נָחָם אֱלֹהִים דֶּרֶךְ אֶרֶץ פְּלִשְׁתִּים כִּי קָרוֹב הוּא
Now when Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although it was nearer
For Bnai Yisrael to travel along the coast of Eretz Canaan, through the land of the Philistines, past Ashkelon, it would have taken them only 8 to 11 days on foot. Instead, God leads them on a circuitous route across the Red Sea and through the desert – adding weeks to their travel time.
Shemot Rabba offers a mashal, a parable, by way of explanation: “This is analogous to a king who had a son and sought to bequeath him an inheritance, and he said: ‘If I give it to him now, he is still young and unable to retain it; rather, [I will wait] until my son learns the laws and appreciates their significance, and then I will give it to him.’ So too, the Holy One blessed be He said: ‘If I take Israel into the Land now, they have not yet engaged in the mitzvot … Rather, I will give them the Torah and then I will take them into the Land.’”
While the Exodus from Egypt needed to happen quickly, and was characterized by leaping (and maybe skipping a few steps), receiving the gift of Eretz Yisrael could not be rushed. Such a significant gift – and responsibility – requires readiness.
Our work at Eshel is characterized by this tension between urgency and slowness. The needs that our community faces – for mental health support, for a place to daven or celebrate a lifecycle moment, for a place to belong – cannot wait. We work to meet these immediate needs through our Warmline and support groups, our community building programs, and identifying shuls and communities that are already welcoming.
At the same time, creating change in the Orthodox community requires patience. It takes many years, and a significant investment in relationship building, for individuals, communities, and institutions to be ready and open to change. It is a slow process – one that doesn’t allow us to skip steps. It takes years for LGBTQ+ people, parents, and family members to navigate the coming out process, find self-acceptance, and serve as mentors to others. It takes years to build relationships wi†h Rabbis and educators in ways that open them to new ways of thinking.
Counting the Omer reminds us that we can’t bend time. It reminds us that the goal is not to try to cut corners or skip steps for efficiency, but to appreciate each day as it passes. Belonging for LGBTQ+ people in the Orthodox community will not come overnight. At the same time, when we look back at how the landscape has changed since Eshel’s founding 15 years ago, the progress we have made is astonishing.
From our first LGBTQ+ retreat in 2010 to this past year, when we welcomed over 150 LGBTQ+ Jews, our community has grown and blossomed. Our annual parent retreat has tripled in size since its first iteration in 2013. And our list of Welcoming Shuls and Rabbis has grown to over 300 community leaders across the US, Canada, and Israel. By building these relationships and networks, we have successfully opened minds and hearts, starting conversations about LGBTQ+ belonging in places we never thought possible and seeing real change.
Sefirat Haomer gives us an opportunity to pause and appreciate the passage of time, whether fast or slow. To look back on all that we’ve accomplished – and the patience it took – as well as to marvel at how far we’ve come in such a relatively short time.
Sara Singer
Director of Marketing and Communicaitons