As we move into the month of May, many of us can feel the pace of life beginning to quicken. The end of the school year brings a calendar full of meaningful moments: we will celebrate Rabbi Cohen and all that he has given to our community, honor our Confirmation students as they step into the next chapter of their Jewish journeys, and gather for our annual meeting to reflect on the life of our congregation. It is a season filled with purpose, pride, and no small amount of busyness. 

In Jewish time, this moment of the year carries its own rhythms—even if we don't always notice it. 

Right now, we are in the midst of a period called the Omer: a seven-week journey from Passover to Shavuot (Thursday night will be 29 days, which is four weeks and one day of the Omer). In Parashat Emor, which we read this week, the Torah introduces this practice: "You shall count for yourselves… seven complete weeks" (Leviticus 23:15). One of its central ideas is simple but powerful—to count each day. Not just to let time pass, but to mark it—to say: this day matters, too. 

And right in the middle of that journey comes a lesser-known moment called Lag BaOmer. 

It doesn't mark the beginning or the end. It doesn't carry the weight of a major holiday. Instead, it appears almost unexpectedly, traditionally celebrated with small gatherings, moments of joy, even bonfires—brief sparks of light in the midst of an otherwise steady, forward-moving season. 

At its heart, Lag BaOmer offers a simple but powerful idea: we don't have to wait until everything is finished to celebrate. 

In the weeks ahead, we will experience so many "big moments" together—milestones that deserve to be marked and honored. And yet, if we move too quickly from one to the next, it's easy to overlook the smaller moments that give those celebrations their meaning: a quiet conversation after an event ends, a shared laugh in the hallway, a moment of pride watching our students grow, the feeling of connection that comes simply from being together. 

Our tradition gently reminds us that both kinds of moments matter. Pirkei Avot teaches, "Do not say: when I have free time, I will study—for perhaps you will never have free time" (Pirkei Avot 2:4). The wisdom here reaches beyond study: if we wait for the perfect, uncluttered moment to pay attention, to appreciate, to celebrate—we may miss the opportunity altogether. 

The big moments give shape to our lives—they help us see where we've been and where we are going. But the small moments are what fill those shapes with meaning. They are the sparks that illuminate the journey along the way. 

Lag BaOmer invites us to hold both at once—to celebrate the milestones, and to notice the in-between. 

So here is a question to carry with you in the weeks ahead: 

Where are the small moments of meaning and connection that I might otherwise miss? 

Not as a way of slowing everything down—we know that May rarely allows for that—but as a way of noticing more deeply. To pause, even briefly, and recognize the moments that are easy to pass by but are, in their own way, just as worthy of celebration. 

As our calendar fills with gatherings and milestones, perhaps the invitation of this season is not only to show up for the big events, but also to be present for the moments in between—to mark them, to appreciate them, and to let them shape our experience of this time. 

Because in the end, it is not only the milestones we reach that define us, but the many small moments that carry us there. 

And perhaps that is something worth continuing to notice—not just this week, but in all the busy, meaningful seasons still to come.