Counting Time

I found this Jewish reflection very helpful towards helping me to be present:

"We count time as though it were money. We can make more money, but we can’t make more time. Money can vanish, but time cannot be stolen nor lost.  
    Every penny of our money can be spent or saved, invested or loaned, but time—the hours slip through our fingers, allowing us not the slightest mastery over their incessant stream.

So we may own money, but we never own our time.  And yet time is utterly dependent upon us for its very being. For if a moment of time enters and is wasted, it has come and gone without meaning. And without meaning, it is a moment that never was.

  A coin uncounted is a wasted coin. A moment uncounted has vanished into the void.    So we may own money, but we never own our time.  And yet time is utterly dependent upon us for its very being. For if a moment of time enters and is wasted, it has come and gone without meaning. And without meaning, it is a moment that never was.
  A coin uncounted is a wasted coin. A moment uncounted has vanished into the void." - 11 Nissan 5742. By Tzvi Freeman. From the wisdom of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory;

So, time is valuable. This is an ancient idea echoed in the familiar saying, “time is money.” Yet as a hospice worker, I have come to appreciate the value of time in much deeper ways. What does it look like to live life mindful of its ending? I think it means becoming attentive to each moment we are given—making our moments count by fully showing up to them. It means resisting the temptation to let constant focus on the future rob us of the present. At the same time, being present does not mean ignoring the future. Perhaps true wisdom lies in taking responsibility for our future through the choices we make today.

This is where spiritual practices can help ground us so that we can become fully present to the moment we are living in. Over the past few years, I have become intrigued by Shavuot, the Jewish festival connected to the Christian celebration of Pentecost, because it holds the tension between being mindfully present while also taking responsibility for the future. My theological and Spiritual Health training have also deepened my appreciation for spiritual traditions that endure across generations. I once associated the word “tradition” with rigid practices that left little room for the Holy Spirit, an understanding shaped partly by my Pentecostal upbringing and by Jesus’ frequent criticism of religious leaders who valued tradition over human life. Now, however, the word “tradition” no longer triggers a negative reaction but instead evokes curiosity about practices that have sustained people over centuries. The practice of counting time during Shavuot is one such tradition, inviting people to reflect intentionally on each passing day. 

In Jewish tradition Counting the Omer is more than keeping track of days. It is often understood as a journey of spiritual preparation and transformation.

1. From liberation to purpose.  Passover remembers liberation from slavery in Egypt, while Shavuot celebrates receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai. The counting period connects freedom with responsibility and spiritual growth. In Jewish thought, freedom is not only freedom from oppression, but freedom for covenant, meaning, and holy living.

2. Marking sacred time.  Unlike counting down impatiently to an event, the Omer invites people to pay attention to each day as meaningful. Every day is counted and named, emphasizing that time itself is sacred.  For example:  “Today is the third day of the Omer.” “Today is the twenty-first day of the Omer.”

The practice teaches intentional living and awareness of time passing.  I found this practice an expression of King David’s prayer: "Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (Psalm 90:12).