August 18, 2024|י"ד אב ה' אלפים תשפ"ד Beyond Broken Telephone: The Divine Art of Creative Intentionality By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

When we were children, we often play the game of "broken telephone." One person whispers something to a second person, who passes it on, and so it goes, until the last person shares what he or she heard—usually a distorted version of the original message. At least that’s how it is supposed to be played. Of course, I remember that almost always whenever I played “broken telephone,” there was always the kid who intentionally distorted the message, like there was a kid who no matter what he heard would say “tuna fish” to the next person and would ruin the entire game. I actually do not have very fond memories of playing this game. But, when done right, this game is a reflection of how stories and messages evolve over time, even when intentions are pure. We adapt and alter details, sometimes without realizing it. In many cases, that’s okay—it’s part of the natural process of storytelling. But what about something as sacred as the Ten Commandments? Can they be adapted or changed? Did Moshe Rabbenu play “broken telephone” with the Ten Commandments?

In this week’s parsha, Moshe Rabbeinu does something surprising—he retells the Ten Commandments but changes some of the words. The most striking difference appears in the fourth commandment about Shabbat. In Parshat Yitro, Hashem commands us to observe Shabbat to remember the creation of the world, but Moshe retells the commandment and says we should observe Shabbat to commemorate the exodus from Egypt. Can you imagine God listening from the heavens, hearing Moshe's retelling, and thinking, “That’s not exactly what I said!”

But there’s something even more astonishing. Moshe changes the very beginning of the fourth commandment. If you’ve seen artwork depicting the Ten Commandments in a shul, you’ll notice the first two words of each commandment: "Anochi Hashem," "Lo yihyeh," "Lo tisa," etc. Yet, when Moshe retells the Ten Commandments, he introduces the fourth commandment with "Shamor et" instead of "Zachor et"—"Observe the Shabbat" rather than "Remember the Shabbat." When shuls display the Ten Commandments, which version should they use: God’s original "Zachor" or Moshe’s "Shamor"? All shuls that I’ve seen choose God’s version, but why did Moshe alter the words in the first place?

Chazal famously teach that "Shamor v’Zachor b’dibur echad ne’emru"—Hashem actually spoke both "Shamor" and "Zachor" simultaneously. While we can only record one word in the Torah, God, in His infinite ability, conveyed both. This dual message is reminiscent of the 2018 Yanny/Laurel phenomenon, where a single recording was heard differently by different people. Just as we were amazed by that auditory illusion, Hashem demonstrated a similar, even more miraculous, feat over 3,000 years ago. He communicated both aspects of Shabbat—remembering creation and observing the sanctity of Shabbat—at the same time. We wrote “zachor” in one version and “shamor” in another version of the Ten Commandments to underscore this point.

However, the Ibn Ezra offers a different perspective. He explains that Moshe didn’t merely repeat the commandments verbatim. According to Ibn Ezra, Moshe translated and explained them to the people in a way that made them more understandable. For example, when he retold the Ten Commandments in this week’s parsha, he added the phrase "ka’asher tzivcha Hashem Elokecha"—"as Hashem, your God, commanded you"—to remind the people that these commandments were not new but rather reaffirmations of what was given at Sinai. When Moshe said "Shamor," he wasn’t contradicting "Zachor." The Ibn Ezra writes (Shmot 20:1):

והנה הזכירה כוללת השמירה. וטעם זכור שיזכור כל יום אי זה יום הוא מהשבוע, וכל זה בעבור שישמור היום השביעי שלא יעשה בו מלאכה. והנה טעם הזכירה היא השמירה. וכאשר אמר השם זכור, הבינו כל השומעים כי טעמו כמו שמור, כאילו בבת אחת נאמרו.

Now memory includes observance. The meaning of “remember” is that one should keep in mind every day of the week what day that happens to be. The reason for all of this is that one will observe the seventh day and do no work on it. The reason for remembering is for observance. Therefore, when God said, “remember,” all the people understood that its meaning was, “observe.” Hence “remember” and “observe” were, as it were, said simultaneously.

According to the Ibn Ezra, Moshe was revealing that these two concepts are intertwined. We truly "remember" Shabbat throughout the week so that we “observe” it on Shabbat. The ultimate goal is “shamor,” or observance, and the method to achieve this goal is “zachor” during the week.

This insight by the Ibn Ezra teaches us something profound about our lives as Jews and human beings. The ability to create, innovate, and adapt is a divine gift. Just as Moshe placed his own imprint on something as inherently sacred as the Ten Commandments, we are called to place our imprint on the world, on our spiritual lives, and on the Torah itself. God’s first act was an act of creation—“Breishit bara Elokim”—and as Rav Soloveitchik writes in “Lonely Man of Faith,” “man’s likeness to God expresses itself in man’s striving and ability to become a creator.” We are made in the image of a Creator, and our mission is to be creators in our own right.

The Torah encourages us to live creatively, not only in the physical world but also in our spiritual lives. Everything that God has given us, including His commandments, is open to our responsible interpretation and adaptation. This isn’t about changing the Torah’s essence but about engaging with it in a way that is vibrant and meaningful for each generation.

Our tradition is steeped in creativity. Jews, who make up only 0.2% of the world’s population, have won 22% of all individual Nobel Prizes, a testament to our innovative spirit. In a world of constant change and challenge, Israel—a young nation surrounded by adversity—thrives as a hub of innovation and creativity, the classic “Startup Nation.” The Torah itself, with its vast and complex system of laws which covers every aspect of life, be it legal, philosophical, ethical and mystical, is unparalleled in history, reflecting millennia of intellectual giants who have contributed to its continuous development.

Our creativity is nothing short of inspiring. And Moshe teaches us something else. Moshe was at the end of his life. He was about to die, having faced the heart-wrenching setback of being denied entry to Eretz Yisrael, his ultimate dream. But that did not deter him from being creative. We have followed in his footsteps, even in the aftermath of October 7th, demonstrating unparalleled creativity. Consider the story shared in Aish’s Tisha B’Av video of Bar Kupershtein, who was kidnapped in Gaza. As a merit to bring him home, his mother, Julie, sought out people who do not yet put on tefillin daily to wear Bar’s tefillin each day, with one condition—that they return them to Bar when he comes home soon, with God’s help. To her surprise, fifteen men initially volunteered, and so many Jews everywhere have since started putting on tefillin in the merit of Bar Kupershtein.

Or the story of Kibbutz Kerem Shalom. It was the dream of Amichai Witzen, a member of the community’s emergency defense team, to plant a vineyard in Kerem Shalom. Amichai fell in battle on October 7th while valiantly defending the kibbutz from Hamas terrorists. Just a week and a half ago, members of the kibbutz gathered to plant 4,400 vines in a new vineyard there. Amichai’s widow, Talia Witzen, said, “A well-known pasuk in Tehillim reads: ‘Ha’zorim Be’dima Be’rina Yiktzoru’—‘They who sow in tears, shall reap with songs of joy.’ We are planting with tears, but we will soon reap with joy. I have discovered over this difficult period that only what is true can bring happiness. I am feeling true joy this morning because we are dedicating ourselves to a momentous project that will leave a lasting impact.”

In altering the words of the Ten Commandments, Moshe Rabbeinu isn’t merely making a change; he’s delivering a divine message: Our mission in life is to be creators. Be creative in your work, in your personal growth, and in your spiritual practice. Step out of your comfort zone and try new things. Infuse your prayers with personal meaning, discover fresh insights in the Torah, and make every day an opportunity to create something new. And never let any setback, whether personal or national, stop you from continuously striving to create.

Don’t live a life of repetition or like a game of broken telephone, where the message gets lost along the way. Instead, live a life of intentionality, vibrancy, and creativity. This is who we are at our core, and this is what the Torah expects of us.