It was the second night of Pesach. The congregation had just finished their silent Shemoneh Esrei. The chazzan was about to continue the service.
Suddenly, Boruch hurried across the shul toward Shimon.
“Wait!” he whispered urgently. “Don’t say the bracha on the Omer yet. I need you to be motzi me.”
Shimon looked puzzled. “You forgot to count one night already? How is that possible? Tonight is the first night of Sefiras HaOmer!”
Boruch sighed. “Oy… I thought we started counting last night.”
Shimon stared at him. “Didn’t you daven with a minyan last night? How could you have thought we started counting then?”
Boruch shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it’s not my custom to say Hallel in shul on Pesach night, so I stepped out.”
Shimon’s eyes widened, and his voice rose. “You walked out?! How could you do that? It’s also my custom not to say Hallel then, but I would never walk out! Don’t you know that Rav Moshe, zt”l, wrote that one should not walk out during Hallel because it causes machlokes? What you did was utterly disrespectful!”
Just then the gabbai’s voice rang out across the shul.
“Attention, please. Even if it is not your custom to say Hallel, do not talk during our recitation of Hallel. It is highly disrespectful and causes machlokes!”
Boruch leaned toward Shimon and whispered defensively. “I slipped out quietly last night. I don’t think anyone was the wiser, so it didn’t cause machlokes. I imagine if a whole group of congregants walked out, that might cause machlokes.”
Shimon said, “Let’s step outside and continue this conversation.”
They slipped into the hallway.
“Fine,” Boruch said. “I’ll say the bracha for you on the Omer.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” Shimon replied.
“But you can’t count tonight with a bracha anymore,” Boruch insisted. “I heard you say, ‘How is that possible? Tonight is the first night of Sefiras HaOmer.’ You already counted! You can’t recite a bracha on something you already did.”
Shimon frowned. “But I didn’t intend to count and fulfill the mitzvah. I was just speaking conversationally.”
Boruch smiled slightly. “Yes, but we say mitzvos ein tzrichos kavana, mitzvos do not require intention to fulfill them bedieved. For example, if someone were practicing blowing the shofar on Rosh Hashanah without intending to fulfill the mitzvah, he would still be yotzei. The same applies here. You counted the Omer. Just because you didn’t intend to fulfill the mitzvah doesn’t mean you weren’t yotzei.”
Shimon held up a finger. “Not so fast. The Radbaz says we only say mitzvos ein tzrichos kavana regarding rabbinic mitzvos, not for Torah mitzvos such as shofar. Counting Sefiras HaOmer is a Torah mitzvah!”
“Why do you say it’s a Torah mitzvah?” Boruch asked.
“It’s an explicit pasuk!” Shimon replied. “The Torah says to start counting the day after the first day of Pesach.” He quoted the verse in Vayikra.
Boruch nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not quite the full quotation. The pasuk actually says: ‘And from the day on which you bring the sheaf of the elevation offering, the day after the Sabbath (first day Pesach), you shall count off seven complete weeks.’ The Torah ties the counting to the bringing of the Omer offering. Sadly, we no longer have the Beis HaMikdash, so that offering cannot be brought. That would mean there is no longer a Torah obligation to count.”
Shimon considered this. “Hmm. You may have a point. But did you come up with that logic yourself?”
“No,” Boruch replied. “It’s an explicit passage in the Gemara we learned this week in Menachos 66a. Ameimar counted days but not weeks. He explained that since there is no longer an Omer offering, the counting today is only in commemoration of the Beis HaMikdash. Therefore, one need not be so scrupulous as to count both days and weeks. It’s clear from there that counting today commemorates what was done when the Beis HaMikdash stood.”
Shimon shook his head. “That Gemara proves the opposite! Abaye says we count both weeks and days. Obviously, he holds it’s still a Torah mitzvah. Since we follow Abaye and count both weeks and days, it must be that we also hold it’s a Torah mitzvah.”
“In truth,” Boruch replied, “the Rambam does say exactly that, that Sefiras HaOmer remains a Torah mitzvah even today. He is joined by other Rishonim who agree. The Shaar HaTziyon even writes that we should take their view into account. However, the Shulchan Aruch rules that nowadays the mitzvah is rabbinic. Even Abaye, who says we count both weeks and days, doesn’t necessarily argue about that point. He simply maintains that the mitzvah should be performed in the same format as it was when the Beis HaMikdash stood.”
Shimon nodded slowly. “All right. I shouldn’t have mentioned the Radbaz. I should have quoted the Vilna Gaon instead. The Vilna Gaon holds that both Torah mitzvos and rabbinic mitzvos require positive intention in order to fulfill them. So even if Sefiras HaOmer today is rabbinic, I wasn’t yotzei when I accidentally counted without intention.”
Boruch chuckled. “Sorry, but you’re only half correct. It’s true that you may not have been yotzei, and you might have to count again. But the Elya Rabbah says you still can’t recite a bracha. When there’s a possibility of saying a bracha in vain, we are stringent and assume that maybe you were yotzei. So it’s actually a strange dichotomy: you must count again because maybe you weren’t yotzei, but you can’t say a bracha because maybe you were!”
Shimon brightened suddenly. “But I didn’t count in Hebrew. I said it in English!”
Boruch shook his head. “The Mishnah Berurah says that you fulfill the obligation of counting the Omer even in English. In fact, if someone does not understand even basic Hebrew and simply recites the Hebrew formula without understanding, he is not yotzei. In such a case, we would advise him to count in English instead. It’s similar to the declaration that one’s chametz becomes ownerless on Erev Pesach. If someone merely says the Aramaic words without understanding them, it’s meaningless; he should say it in English instead. Rav Chaim Kanievsky even pointed out that while there is an advantage to praying in Hebrew, no such advantage exists for Kol Chamira.”
Shimon still looked unconvinced. “I’m not completely persuaded. My whole life, I’ve counted in Hebrew, and virtually everyone in my shul counts in Hebrew. If I say the day in English, maybe it sounds like I’m just stating a fact rather than actually performing the mitzvah. It’s almost as if I’m declaring I don’t want to be yotzei with this counting.”
Boruch shrugged. “That sounds like a good argument, but you’d need to find a posek who says that. The Mishna Berura does not.”
Shimon pulled a sefer from the shelf by the hallway, Kovetz Halachos on Sefiras HaOmer. He flipped through it quickly, scanning the pages.
Suddenly, his face lit up.
“Look what I found!”
Boruch leaned over. “About counting in English?”
“No,” Shimon said with a grin. “About something even better. If you were paying attention, you’d realize I didn’t say, ‘Today is day number one of the Omer.’ I said, ‘Tonight is the first night of Sefiras HaOmer.’”
Boruch raised an eyebrow.
Shimon continued. “True, if it’s the first day, it obviously corresponds to number one. But consider another example. Suppose on day forty-nine someone says, ‘Wow, today is the last day of the Omer.’ The word ‘last’ doesn’t actually tell you what number the day is. Only if you already know there are forty-nine days could you deduce it.”
Boruch nodded slowly.
“So when I said, ‘Tonight is the first night of Sefiras HaOmer,’” Shimon continued, “I meant that today is when we begin counting, not that today is day number one. And look here: the Kovetz Halachos writes that if someone inadvertently says, ‘Hayom yom rishon l’sefirah’ on the first day, he can still later count with a bracha for this very reason. I think my case is the English equivalent.”
Boruch smiled and said, “I think we should go back inside. They’ve finished Hallel.”
Maggid shiur and Rebbe at Yeshiva Ateres Shimon in Far Rockaway. He leads the Daf Yomi chaburah at Eitz Chayim of Dogwood Park in West Hempstead, and writes “Delving into the Daf” each week for The Jewish Home.