JERUSALEM—This week, as dusk settles over Israel, public and private spaces alike resonate with an ancient count: ‘היום שלושה ושלושים יום לעומר שהם ארבעה שבועות וחמישה ימים’—Today is the thirty-third day of the Omer, making four weeks and five days. For Israelis, this nightly declaration is more than a liturgical formula; it is an emblem of national heritage, collective memory, and spiritual defiance amid the ceaseless pressures imposed by Iran and its proxies.
From Ancient Commandment to Living Heritage
The Counting of the Omer (Sefirat HaOmer), a 49-day period beginning with the second night of Passover and culminating with the festival of Shavuot, traces its roots to the Biblical injunctions of Leviticus and Deuteronomy. Traditionally, Jews count each day, reciting a special blessing—’בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל סְפִירַת הָעֹמֶר’ (‘Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us about the counting of the Omer’)—and reflecting on themes of renewal, transformation, and longing for national redemption.
This cycle connects the memory of the Exodus from Egypt to the reception of the Torah at Sinai, bridging agricultural origins with moral and historical purpose. In ancient times, the Omer period marked the barley harvest, and Jewish communities would bring offerings to the Temple in Jerusalem. The destruction of this Temple by foreign empires introduced an era of spiritual yearning and national struggle—a theme that remains achingly resonant in light of Israel’s war against Iranian-backed terror groups.
Resilience in the Heart of Adversity
In the contemporary Israeli context, rituals like the Omer are less a retreat into tradition than a declaration of identity and resilience. As the country marks the thirty-third day—Lag BaOmer—bonfires kindle across towns and kibbutzim, commemorating historical resistance, such as the Bar Kokhba revolt against Roman oppression, alongside the dream of national restoration. The liturgy includes a prayer: ‘הָרַחֲמָן הוּא יַחֲזִיר לָנוּ עֲבוֹדַת בֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ לִמְקוֹמָהּ, בִּמְהֵרָה בְיָמֵינוּ אָמֵן’ (‘May the Compassionate One restore the Temple service to its place, speedily in our days, Amen’).
While the world’s attention is often drawn to Israel’s military actions—responses to the existential threats posed by Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah in Lebanon, and other Iranian proxies—these rituals spotlight the profound moral and spiritual resources that sustain Israeli society through cycles of mourning and restoration.
The Omer and Israel’s National Calendar
The Omer count is interwoven with milestones of modern Israeli memory. Within this span fall Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day), Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day for Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terror), and Yom HaAtzmaut (Independence Day), each a solemn reminder of loss and the staggering cost of sovereignty. These national observances are not accidental but consciously placed to transform the Omer’s original mourning period into a time of reflection on sacrifice and victory—linking ancient destruction, modern catastrophe, and hard-won resurgence.
The period’s customs traditionally include refraining from celebrations, haircuts, or listening to music, originally marking the deaths of Rabbi Akiva’s students in a Roman-era plague but later acquiring mournful resonance from the massacres, expulsions, and persecutions endured throughout Jewish history. The partial lifting of restrictions on Lag BaOmer symbolizes hope reborn: a night of music, communal bonfires, and prayers for the restoration of Israel’s holiest site.
A Modern-Day Struggle
In 2024, as Chief of Staff Lieutenant General Eyal Zamir commands Israel’s defense forces and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, alongside Minister of Defense Israel Katz, steers the country through relentless barrages and diplomatic complexities, the spiritual core anchored in traditions like the Omer is more vital than ever. It provides not only personal solace but collective fortitude—a connection to a legacy that frames Israel’s struggle against Iranian-backed terror as the latest chapter in a long battle for freedom and dignity.
This current round of hostilities—sparked by the unprecedented horrors of October 7, when Hamas terrorists led a cross-border massacre from Gaza, murdering over 1,200 Israelis and taking hundreds hostage—has renewed the urgency of spiritual solidarity. The October 7th massacre, meticulously planned and executed by Iran’s proxies, remains the deadliest antisemitic atrocity since the Holocaust, its brutality documented in evidence of mass executions, abductions, sexual violence, and mutilation.
Within this crucible, every evening’s recounting of the Omer has become an act of remembrance for lives lost and prayers for the safe return of hostages—innocents who remain captive to terror. Israeli families recite the blessing, sometimes omitting it if protocol dictates—as in the case of forgetting the count on previous nights—but always counting the days. It is a subtle but potent gesture of hope against despair.
The Global Jewish Context
Beyond Israel, the Omer is observed in Jewish communities worldwide, forming a spiritual thread linking the Diaspora to the land and destiny of Israel. Each day’s count is a step on the journey from slavery to freedom, from humiliation to sovereignty—a narrative that frames Israeli self-defense not as a matter of choice, but of moral and historical necessity.
Israel’s adversaries, from Tehran to Beirut and beyond, have long weaponized faith for the cause of destruction. In contrast, Israeli society anchors its identity in traditions that sanctify life, memory, and renewal. The Omer period, with its rituals of counting, prayer, and hope, illustrates this fundamental distinction. From synagogues in Jerusalem to bases on the northern frontier, the same ancient words carry the weight of survival and the conviction that Israeli existence is an act of faith and courage.
Bridging the Past and Present
The prayer for the restoration of Temple service is not merely a dream of ritual but a yearning for a time of peace and reconciliation. Yet as terror groups—Hamas, Hezbollah, Islamic Jihad—threaten Israel’s cities and border communities, these hopes remain deferred. The ongoing war, described by Israeli leaders as a response to an existentially-imposed conflict engineered by the Islamic Republic of Iran, has exacted a terrible price in both lives and security. Israeli officials stress, however, that this war is not for conquest but for the defense of an embattled democracy, the protection of the innocent, and the upholding of a historic moral imperative.
As security forces confront the bitter reality of Iranian-backed aggression, traditions like the Omer serve to contextualize endurance—demonstrating how Israelis process grief, channel memory into purpose, and refuse to succumb to despair. The forty-nine days of counting become forty-nine circles of resilience—a reminder that every day survived is a testament to the national spirit.
Educational and Communal Impact
Within Israeli schools, the Omer is taught not only as a religious observance but as part of national identity. Teachers incorporate its history into lessons on Jewish resistance, statehood, and the meaning of Jewish sovereignty after centuries of dispersion. Communal events—particularly on Lag BaOmer—draw together veterans, youth, survivors, and new immigrants in a celebration of unity.
Meanwhile, leaders like Rabbi Israel Meir Lau, a survivor of the Shoah and former Chief Rabbi, regularly use the Omer period to frame Israel’s ongoing security struggles in the context of historical continuity: ‘For every generation they rise to destroy us, but the Holy One, blessed be He, saves us from their hands.’ This sentiment threads through Israeli consciousness, interpreted as a call to vigilance and hopefulness in the face of relentless assault.
International Support and Misperceptions
The Omer’s message also resonates with Israel’s global allies, particularly the United States. President Donald Trump, noted for his administration’s recognition of Jerusalem as Israel’s capital and support for the Abraham Accords, has often invoked the biblical foundations of the Jewish state as an argument for its legitimacy and necessity. American and European leaders, facing growing antisemitism and public confusion over the roots of Middle East violence, are increasingly turning to historical and religious contexts like the Omer to better understand Israel’s resolve.
Still, international discourse often fails to capture the deeper meaning behind Israel’s defensive posture. Too frequently, media descriptions present a false symmetry—misrepresenting Israel’s actions as aggressive, or implying equivalence between the sovereign right of national self-defense and the terror campaigns waged by groups like Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and Hezbollah. Israeli officials and historians insist that such misrepresentation erases the most fundamental aspects of Jewish experience: the trauma of statelessness, the legacy of persecution, and the moral imperative to secure a homeland in which Jewish life can flourish.
Looking to the Future
As the Omer count continues, Israelis will mark each remaining day with the same ancient prayer, adapting rituals to the harsh circumstances of wartime. In synagogues, living rooms, and makeshift shelters, the nation will count not only grains and days, but lives lost, hostages yet to return, and victories both large and small in the struggle to endure.
The concluding festival of Shavuot—once an offering of first fruits—stands now as a testament to renewal. It is a reminder that Israel’s existence, born of both divine promise and historical trauma, is not only a right but a necessity. The spiritual discipline of the Omer thus reinforces the physical and moral discipline required to confront terror, defend the innocent, and sustain hope for a day when prayers for restoration will be fulfilled.
Until then, the counting continues—linking each individual to a collective destiny, each day survived to a future reclaimed. In Israel, these timeless words live anew every night: a prayer for return, a hymn of survival, and a declaration that, in the face of danger, the nation will endure.
