Broken Telephone

Friday January 23, 2026/5 Sh'vat 5786/Shabbat Bo

וּלְמַ֡עַן תְּסַפֵּר֩ בְּאזְנֵ֨י בִנְךָ֜ וּבֶן־בִּנְךָ֗ אֵ֣ת אֲשֶׁ֤ר הִתְעַלַּ֙לְתִּי֙ בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם וְאֶת־אֹתֹתַ֖י אֲשֶׁר־שַׂ֣מְתִּי בָ֑ם וִֽידַעְתֶּ֖ם כִּי־אֲנִ֥י יְהֹוָֽה׃

So that you speak into the ears of your children and grandchildren and tell them how I made a mockery of the Egyptians and how I displayed My signs among them—in order that you may know that I am God.

(Parshat Bo, Shemot 10:2)

Hevre/Friends,

We each probably have a memory or two - or a hundred - of playing  Broken Telephone as kids. Speaking as closely as possible into the ear of the person sitting next to you, you’d repeat some silly phrase chosen by the leader until the last person received the message in their ear. At that point they’d repeat aloud what they heard and we’d howl with laughter at how transformed the initial message became over the course of so many transmissions.  How did “Billie Jean is not my lover” end up as “Billie Jean is pregnant with the baby of Danny Glover”? 

In this week’s Torah portion which tells of the last plagues, the first Passover, and the preparations to finally escape Egypt, God commands us to educate our children using this particular phrasing of “speaking into theirs ears”, presumably to ensure the integrity of the divine message. Are we still, millennia later, playing a game of Broken Telephone: Torah Edition?

The commentators vary in their understanding of this phrase. Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsch understood it as a summoning of parents to not simply tell their children and grandchildren about the epic stories of our people, but to share intentionally and powerfully so that the generations beyond us understand and internalize the the spiritual and moral claims they make upon us, and appreciate the beauty, the wonder, the privilege and the responsibility of being a Jew. The Ponovezher Rebbe taught that the emphasis of “speak into their ears” reminded parents to engage their children in a way that allows their messages to transcend the background noise of the world which could distract or even discourage their child from taking their Jewish identity seriously. 

These are timeless teachings which resonate deeply in today’s complicated ideological and political realities. Many families struggle with widely polarized Jewish values; many parents feel embittered, if not betrayed, by their children’s choices. Others feel deeply moved by their children’s Jewish commitments and enduring loyalties. I’ve spend countless hours with parents and educators talking through their frustrations with young people, and also listening to heartwarming stories of abiding Jewish pride. The reality is that no amount or type of parenting or educating can guarantee any particular Jewish outcome among our children, grandchildren, or students. But maybe securing the precise replication of our messages isn’t exactly the point.

Speaking “into the ears” of others achieves a more fundamental goal than the meticulous preservation of content. It suggests closeness, intimacy, and trust - the necessary ingredients for any truly meaningful and impactful exchange of ideas and feelings. It sets the stage for deep listening, for paying close attention, for real relationship - the tools required to rise above the dangerous cacophony of partisan politics that can obscure human responsiveness and compassion.

Every generation plays out its own version of Broken Telephone as the teachings and experiences of the prior generation get transmuted and recast into idioms and practices that reflects the lived reality and yearnings of people in their own time and place. We are quite familiar with the anxieties of the message-launcher as their convictions make their way down the family layers. But let’s also not minimize the sensitivities of those on the receiving end, often struggling to harmonize the messages their ears - and hearts - hear with those voiced before them.

The promise of “speaking into the ears” of our children and grandchildren by strengthening the closeness we share and the clarity with which we speak isn’t only to secure their boundedness to our apprehension of the sacred voice. It’s about ensuring each of our loyalties to the eternal project of listening for the divine call to justice, to love, to purpose, and to peace as expressed through clear and abiding Jewish pride. That’s the message that can - and must - be relayed through endless rounds of transmission. 

So the next time you’re with your young ones, lean in close and say clearly and passionately something like, וְאָֽהַבְתָּ֥ לְרֵעֲךָ֖ כָּמ֑וֹךָ/love your fellow as you wish to be loved, or, וַאֲהַבְתֶּ֖ם אֶת־הַגֵּ֑ר כִּֽי־גֵרִ֥ים הֱיִיתֶ֖ם בְּאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם/love the stranger for you were strangers in Egypt, or, עֲשׂ֤וֹת מִשְׁפָּט֙ וְאַ֣הֲבַת חֶ֔סֶד וְהַצְנֵ֥עַ לֶ֖כֶת עִם־אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ/do justice, embrace kindness, and walk humbly with your God, and wait with trust and hope for what comes out the other side. 

With continued prayers for the return of the last murdered hostage, Ran Gvili, for the bereaved and the injured, for the return of sanity and respect to the streets of our cities, for safety during the upcoming storm, and with blessings for a Shabbat Shalom,

Dini

(Photo by Ronen Avisror)