Over the past few weeks, I have been discovering the extraordinary capabilities of artificial intelligence. Friends are sharing how these tools are transforming their businesses and helping them accomplish in minutes what used to take hours, or even days.
It is exciting. It is also unsettling. If a computer can write, analyze, organize, and solve problems faster than we can, where does that leave us? Will people lose their jobs? Will relying on technology weaken our ability to think critically and work through challenges ourselves? These are serious questions deserving serious attention. I am not offering solutions to all the economic, educational, and social challenges this technology presents. But I know one thing with certainty: human beings will always be essential to this world. In this week’s parsha, the Torah introduces G-d’s instruction to Avraham: “Lech Lecha.” Leave your land, your birthplace and your father’s home, and travel to the land I will show you. Avraham was seventy-five years old. By then, he had already accomplished enough to fill a remarkable biography. Our sages describe how he discovered the Creator, challenged the idolatry surrounding him, and persuaded others to recognize the one G-d. He demonstrated extraordinary intelligence, courage, and leadership, risking his life for the truth. Yet the Torah does not begin its account of his mission by cataloging these achievements. It begins with G-d telling him what to do. Why? Because the foundation of life is something deeper than human achievement. Until this point, Avram’s spiritual accomplishments reflected his own initiative and understanding. He recognized a truth, devoted himself to it, and inspired others to follow. With “Lech Lecha,” something new happened. G-d communicated His desire, and Avraham responded. This is the meaning of a mitzvah - an action G-d asks us to do. When we put on tefillin, keep kosher, observe Shabbat, learn Torah, or give tzedakah, we are responding to Him. Through that response, we express and strengthen our relationship with our Creator. And that relationship explains why we are here. G-d did not create the world simply to produce the greatest possible volume of work. Divine purpose is not fulfilled by the most sophisticated systems cataloging information, crunching numbers, and making discoveries with flawless efficiency. G-d wants us: a relationship with human beings who receive instruction and choose to respond. While a machine might help arrange a charitable donation, it cannot be the person choosing to fulfill G-d’s command. A program might organize an entire library of Torah teachings, but it cannot take our place in devoting ourselves to learning Torah. Because our essential value was never our processing speed. This does not make every concern about AI disappear. Industries will change, new opportunities will emerge, and people will need support navigating those changes. But our purpose remains secure even as the workplace evolves. And the time these tools save presents an opportunity. If a task takes twenty minutes instead of two hours, what will we do with the time we have gained? Perhaps we can learn some Torah, help a neighbor, or give a mitzvah the attention we previously felt too rushed to offer. Technology can create space in our schedules, but we must choose what fills it. The Rebbe repeatedly emphasized that one mitzvah can tip the scales for the entire world and bring redemption. Think about that when a computer finishes your next project in seconds. Its impressive accomplishment may have freed you to do something whose significance cannot be calculated: one more mitzvah. The tool has completed its task. Now we have more time to fulfill our purpose.