Jewish Educators Count
As students navigate the Omer of their lives, it is their educators who count.
As we count the days of the Omer to Shavuot, parents and children begin counting down to the end of the school year. How should we count and who counts when it comes to Jewish education? The preamble to the daily practice of counting the Omer suggests that counting is not just a matter of marking time; it holds a symbolism that anyone who cares about Jewish education should take seriously.
Before the daily count, it is customary to recite:
Hineni muchan u’mezuman l’kayem mitzvat aseh shel sefirat haomer.
Let’s break this down phrase by phrase.
Hineni - Here I am. When God comes calling, this is the response, like when God first invites Abraham to be the father of monotheism or when Moses hears a voice from the burning bush, the answer is, “Hineni.” Hineni is also the word God uses to declare an action that only God can take, like “Here I am, bringing the flood waters over the land” or “Here I am, hardening the hearts of the Egyptians.” When there’s a hineni, pay attention, something big is about to happen.
Muchan - I am ready, prepared. Present. I’m on it.
U’mezuman - I am invited, called. I am needed here.
When we put the two words together, we double down on readiness. Being “muchan u’mezuman,” as the kids today say, is being “locked in.”
L’kayem mitzvat aseh – to proactively fulfill what is commanded of me;
shel sefirat ha’Omer – by counting the Omer.
All of this wind up, get hyped language, drum roll please, gets us ready for a holy moment. You would think we were preparing to climb Mount Sinai or venture into a miraculously split sea. But no. We’re just navigating both the good and the hard of every day that rolls by. All of this “I’m here, I’m ready” just for the simple act of counting from 1 to 49?
Perhaps this whole pronouncement of being ready and committed and proactive is signaling that maybe counting days is not such a simple act. Maybe the mundane is holier than we think.
Last week my son Elijah counted out 1000 schnitzels as he fried them in the kitchen at the IDF base where he is training for combat as a lone soldier. He told us, “I’m not exaggerating – I know it was actually 1000 schnitzels because I HAD to count them (and by the way, now I know where the saying ‘I cooked for an army’ comes from”). His friend Adiel counted 1000 yogurts. Just like the counting of the harvest and the sheaths of wheat in ancient times, each one mattered. Counting matters. Being prepared matters. Fulfilling a mundane purpose in service of something holy, matters.
Most Jewish educators have the chance to inspire far more than 1000 souls; most likely they lose count after a while. But I guarantee they remember their students’ names and personalities. Because when students are navigating the Omer of their lives, trudging through the in-between times, the daily struggles, their educators are there for them. You see, Jewish educators don’t just develop lesson plans and curricular materials. They develop humans.
Jewish educators are woefully undervalued. In the hierarchy of professions that make Jewish parents proud, education does not count anywhere near the top. But it should. Because Jewish educators are the ones who say hineni the most, and sadly, they are rarely rewarded enough for stepping up. They are answering a calling, they are prepared, they are proactively fulfilling what God needs of them. We need them. We need more of them.
The community must remember that educators are navigating the Omer of their own lives as well – toiling from one harvest to the next. They may wonder sometimes what led them to jump into the land bridge as the sea split, learning as they wander through the desert, building a beautiful mishkan every day, receiving and giving Torah. They do this with the Jewish people all kvetching along behind them. Somehow, they have to get everyone to the Promised Land before the bell rings. Let’s just say, it’s harder than counting to 49.
I shared this message of the counting of the Omer with my newly-minted masters of educational leadership students last week as we celebrated the completion of their studies at Hebrew Union College. Here is an excerpt of my charge to them:
“What message are we to take from this ritual of counting the Omer with so much preparation, presence and intention?
What you do for people during the everyday, what you teach them to see and appreciate during the Omer of their lives, that’s the essence of being a Jewish educator. You never know if you’re going to pose a question, suggest feedback, share encouragement, or offer wisdom on a random day of someone’s life that will change them forever. Every day counts.
When it’s time to count, heed the call. Say Hineni. Because you count. You’re ready. Your presence is essential.
Make every day count.
Make every student count.
Make your choices count.
Make your words count.
Make your voice count.
You have the capacity to be a blessing and to plant and harvest so much good in the world.
You just have to remember that you are muchan u’mezuzan. Say hineni and start counting.”
I pray these young new recruits will resist the burnout that has become contagious and stay in the field for a lifetime. The Jewish community needs to do more to cultivate, incentivize, and nurture our educators. To the community, I ask that you use Shavuot, the time when we celebrate learning Torah, as an opportunity to honor the Jewish educators who have made a difference in your children’s lives. For that matter, reach out to an educator who inspired you and thank them too. They will likely still say “Hineni.”