I originally wrote this sermon for Parshat Bereshit—1st of the weekly Torah portions. But when a storm kept attendance small on that Shabbat, I chose to offer a more intimate teaching and saved this sermon for today.
In the Torah reading of Bereshit, we learned about the beginning of the world—and the beginning of what it means to be human. In today’s Torah portion Chayey Sarah, Rebecca shows us what that humanity looks like in action. And today—as we stand at the threshold of a technological revolution—her example speaks to us with startling relevance.
The Torah tells us that Gd created human beings b’tzelem Elokim (in the image of Gd). This doesn’t mean that we look like Gd. It means that human beings possess agency: independence, the ability to make free choices, to discern, to rise above our instincts. Animals are pre-programmed to act according to their nature. Stars and planets follow their courses in the sky. It’s only human beings that can transcend their wiring. We can choose good or evil, blessing or curse.
And yet today, we face a new challenge to that agency: the rise of AI, Artificial Intelligence. We are now making machines that can write, diagnose, think, create, and make decisions. Many fear that AI will replace us—that we will shift from making choices to merely supervising automated systems. If that happens, our Divine image will be diminished.
But the Torah offers a different lens. In today’s Torah portion Abraham sends his servant to find a wife for his son Isaac back home to his family in Mesopotamia. But how will he know which woman there will be suitable for Abraham and Sarah’s family?
He comes to the well because that’s were people gather for water—especially young women who bring water home. At the well, he prays (Gen. 24:20) and suggests to Gd a sign: “The maiden who will give him water, and then offer to water his camels,” she will be the one. Just as he finishes his prayer, he sees Rebecca and asks for a little water. She not only gives him a drink from her jug, she then offers to draw water for his camels. That’s a lot of work … for camels drink a lot of water! He asks for a little. She gives so much more. What shines through is her sensitivity to notice someone in need and respond with chesed, kindness.
Now imagine an automated well that could deliver all that water at the push of a button. Wonderful! It would spare Revecca the heavy lifting. But the lesson of Rebecca is that she saw a thirsty stranger and chose to care. If machines can do more of our work, the question is not whether we still have a purpose. The question is: Will we use the extra time they give us to become more like Rebecca?
I once visited a congregant in a nursing home. She was in her late 90s, frail, barely able to speak. When I walked in, a young nurse was sitting beside her, holding her hand.
The nurse wasn’t doing anything that one would call “productive.” She wasn’t checking her vitals or giving medication. She was just sitting there, stroking this woman’s hand with a kind of gentle presence that filled the room. When the nurse stepped out, I asked the woman—who had barely spoken in weeks—how she felt. She whispered, “She makes me feel human.”
That struck me. We may be able to make a robot that can do every medical task in that room better than the nurse. But no robot or machine could have made that frail woman feel human. AI may or may not threaten our jobs, but it cannot threaten our humanity—unless we surrender it.
I heard Rabbi Simon Jacobson, in an interview on PragerU offers a most striking idea. He said: “We Are Gd’s ‘AI’!” Can you imagine that? What does that mean? He explained, “Gd ‘downloaded’ His attributes into us: intelligence, creativity, compassion, moral awareness. Then Gd added one feature no machine has: Free Will—the ability to transcend our programming.”
Animals follow their instincts. But human beings can rise above their instincts. That’s the essence of what being created b’tzelem Elokim (in the image of Gd) means. When you look at AI in this way, it doesn’t threaten our Divine image. It forces us to rediscover it. Let me explain.
The Torah’s opening chapters (Gen. 2:15) tell us that Gd placed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden l’ovdah u’l’shomrah (to serve and to protect). The commentators tell us this means: to elevate the world spiritually. Lions and tigers cannot do that. Trees and stones cannot do that. Only human beings can transcend the physical to a more spiritual existence.
But then came the Tree of Knowledge. Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, and suddenly the world changed. Gd told them: “Now you will struggle. Now you will work ‘by the sweat of your brow.’” Their spiritual mission then became clouded by the material necessity of survival. For thousands of years, humanity has lived in that post–Tree of Knowledge world—a world where most of our time is spent on survival, labor, and material pursuits like putting food on the table and supporting our families. But what if AI can help us change that?
Try to imagine a world where your mundane work is done by others—in this case, machines—and you are then more free to cultivate relationships, pursue wisdom, love, and spiritual growth. A world where we rediscover who we really are—not defining us by merely what we do.
The story of the Tower of Babel—which we read a few weeks ago—warns us that, yes, human creativity can be used for good, but it can also be used for destruction. Technology can elevate or corrupt. Human beings can build bridges—or build towers meant to replace Gd. And more and more, people are using AI to replace Gd.
AI can be this generation’s Tower of Babel if we use it to declare: “We no longer need Gd.” What does it tell you when that AI box appears? It says: “Ask me anything.” The inference is that AI has all the answers we need—like a god!
But it can also be the opposite: AI can be a tool that frees us from the daily grind so we can pursue a deeper relationship with Gd. The Torah teaches that technology does not determine our destiny. We do.
What we must not surrender to AI is our responsibility for human relationship, emotional connection, and spiritual fulfillment. We’ve all heard stories of people forming close, even intimate relationships with AI. Why? Because it’s always friendly, always ready to listen. It doesn’t talk back to you and it never judges you. It’s an easy relationship because there’s so little expected of you.
However, a chat box is no substitute for showing up for one another. The Torah (Gen. 2:20) tells us Adam searched for someone to connect to among all the animals of the earth, and found no satisfaction until he found Eve—another human. When I think back to that nurse in the nursing home, I realize: A machine might take over some of our tasks. But that does not release us from our calling to offer our own presence… our compassion… our humanity to others. And here’s the secret. When we show up for another, our lives become so much richer and more meaningful.
Later in today’s parsha (Gen. 24:67), Isaac marries Rebecca and finds comfort after his mother’s death. At the well, Rebecca brings kindness. In Isaac’s life, she brings comfort. That brings me back to the woman who whispered, “She makes me feel human.”
My friends, our calling in the age of AI is:
-To be more human and elevate the world in ways machines cannot.
-To love more in ways machines cannot.
-To choose life, to enhance our lives in ways machines cannot.
-To grow closer to Gd in ways machines cannot.
AI may be today’s greatest challenge, but it’s also an invitation, an opportunity. By doing some of our menial tasks, it allows us more time to discover the infinite depth of our souls. So, let machines help with the work. But let us be the ones who choose to care. Like Rebbeca, may we notice those in need, offer our compassion, and bring comfort to others. Amen!
