The Power of Boundaries in a World Without Them
Zachor v’Shamor
We were all at Har Sinai. Every Jewish soul—past, present, and future—stood at the base of the mountain as Hashem shared the Torah with us. The heavens opened, the earth shook, and the world as we knew it changed forever.
And then, something even more impossible happened.
"Zachor V’Shamor B’Dibur Echad Ne’emru"—"Remember" and "Guard" were said in one utterance, something the human ear cannot comprehend" (Shevuot 20b).
Hashem commanded us to both actively sanctify shabbos (Zachor) and simultaneously refrain from work (Shamor). But why did these two seemingly opposite concepts need to be spoken together in a single, miraculous utterance?
The Discrepancy Between Zachor and Shamor
Zachor (Remember shabbos) appears in Parshas Yitro (Shemot 20:8):
"זָכוֹר אֶת יוֹם הַשַּׁבָּת לְקַדְּשׁוֹ"—"Remember the Sabbath day to sanctify it." This version, given in the first Aseret HaDibrot, focuses on the positive mitzvot of shabbos: making Kiddush, having meals, and elevating the day. Zachor tells us to infuse shabbos with holiness and meaning.
Shamor (Guard shabbos) appears in Parshas Va’etchanan (Devarim 5:12):
"שָׁמוֹר אֶת יוֹם הַשַּׁבָּת לְקַדְּשׁוֹ"—"Guard the Shabbos day to sanctify it." This version, given in Moshe’s retelling, emphasizes the prohibitions of shabbos: the 39 melachos we refrain from, the boundaries that define its kedusha/sanctity. Shamor tells us to step back, to refrain, to create sacred space through restraint.
One mitzvah tells us to elevate shabbos. The other tells us to protect it.
It seems like a contradiction—so much so that the Ramban explains that these two aspects of shabbos represent two entirely different categories of mitzvot:
Zachor represents all the positive mitzvot, the things we do.
Shamor represents all the negative mitzvot, the things we must avoid.
Why Did Hashem Say Them Together?
The Midrash Mekhilta lists other mitzvot that were also spoken simultaneously by Hashem:
"One who desecrates it shall be put to death" (Shemot 31:14) and "On the Sabbath day, two lambs are sacrificed" (Bamidbar 28:9).
"You shall not wear a garment of mixed fibers (sha'atnez)" (Devarim 22:11) and "You shall make fringes for yourself (that can be of sha’atnez)" (Devarim 22:12).
Each of these presents a case where two seemingly contradictory ideas were spoken at the same time, yet in practice, one takes precedence over the other depending on the halakhic context. Either the prohibition applies, or the mitzvah applies—one must be chosen over the other. This is not the case with regard to Shamor and Zachor, which make them unique in their overlap.
Rav Yosef Tzvi Rimon explains this beautifully:
If you only knew Shamor, a long list of restrictions, you might think these limitations detract from our experience. But in reality, Shamor enhances Zachor.
The more carefully we observe Shamor, the more we enhance Zachor—the sweetness and joy of shabbos itself. Shamor provides structure and depth, allowing Zachor to flourish.
Shabbos as a Relationship
To understand this, Rav Kook offers a profound metaphor:
"Over time, through practice, habit, and community, the inner self is refined. Just as in a marriage, where commitment and shared experience create deeper love, the boundaries of shabbos cultivate a profound and authentic connection with Hashem."
Marriage thrives not just on love, but on commitment and structure. There are things a couple chooses not to do, not because they don’t have the freedom, but because those limits deepen their bond.
The same is true for shabbos. If we only had Zachor, shabbos might feel like just another holiday—special, but lacking framework. If we only had Shamor, it might feel like a series of restrictions—rules without warmth. It’s the delicate balance of both that allows us to fully experience its beauty.
Shabbos as the Ultimate Boundary
We live in a world where boundaries and self-control are more needed than ever before. Work follows us home, emails demand attention at all hours, binge-watching challenges our self-discipline, and our phones keep us constantly connected. The modern world requires an unprecedented level of self-discipline—something that does not come easily.
We recognize the importance of boundaries in other areas. National borders protect countries. Personal space is essential in relationships. Yet when it comes to our own time, we struggle to establish the same sense of protection.
The onslaught of technology came so fast that we never learned how to pause.
And shabbos teaches us exactly that.
An Oasis in Time
As modern life erases the lines—between work and home, between public and private, between effort and rest—shabbos stands as an oasis of clarity.
We carefully guard our physical space, but we forget to guard our mental space.
And then comes shabbos.
Shabbos is the moment we draw the line—not because we have to, but because we choose to. We turn off the phone. We close the laptop. We stop running, and we step into something bigger than ourselves.
We stop creating, so that we can truly experience what has already been created.
And in doing so, we reclaim something deeper—not just time, not just family, but ourselves.
Because shabbos doesn’t restrict us—it liberates us.
The more we guard shabbos, the more it guards us.