Outcome vs Output
The Beis Medrash | November 22, 2024
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Outcome vs Output

The Beis Medrash | June 27, 2025

Parshas Chayei Sarah

Rabbi Mordechai Lipskier

In this week’s sedrah, Avraham Avinu insists on paying full price for the Me’aras Ha’machpeilah. Now, there’s a concept in halachah that when a prestigious person accepts a gift, it’s considered as if he paid for it—for his acceptance is a gift of honor to the gifter. If so, Avraham could have acquired the field by simply accepting Ephron’s offer to gift it to him. Why did he insist on paying?

The answer is that Avraham didn’t just want the field to belong to him, he wanted to belong to the field. He wanted to be invested in it. He wanted to be attached to it. And to accomplish this, it had to cost him.

A venerable chossid once brought his grandson to the Tzemach Tzedek and asked the Rebbe to bentch him that he should remember all the good and holy things he observed, “and then he’ll automatically be a y’rei Shamayim.” The Tzemach Tzedek responded: For over 50 years, my grandfather (the Alter Rebbe), my father-in-law (the Mitteler Rebbe) and I have toiled that chassidim should be b’maileh chassidim, automatic chassidim, rather, they should be y’rei shamayim through their own effort.

With all the automation around us, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to be personally invested in things. From autopay to automatic doors, we can accomplish so many things with minimal exertion. To be sure, when the main thing is the outcome, automation isn’t bad. But many important things we do are not about the outcome, but rather about the process and how the process changes us.

If I use AI to write a thank-you speech, I may gain automatic entry through my listeners’ hearts, but the door to my heart will remain closed.

Sicha of Shabbos Chayei Sarah 5719 (1958)

As a rule, Yiddishkeit is not about the outcome but the output. There is value in using an actual sefer over scrolling down a screen, simply because it requires more of my personal investment.

As of today, the Tehillim App doesn’t offer to automatically weather the pages for us. Worn, tear-stained pages are a result, and an indication of, personal investment and attachment.

With effort we can become involved in Yiddishkeit, not looking for shortcuts and automation whenever available. We’ll feel more attached to it and thus more attached to Hashem.

A Gut’n Shabbos,
Rabbi Mordechai Lipskier

Parshas Chayei Sarah

Rabbi Mordechai Lipskier

In this week’s sedrah, Avraham Avinu insists on paying full price for the Me’aras Ha’machpeilah. Now, there’s a concept in halachah that when a prestigious person accepts a gift, it’s considered as if he paid for it—for his acceptance is a gift of honor to the gifter. If so, Avraham could have acquired the field by simply accepting Ephron’s offer to gift it to him. Why did he insist on paying?

The answer is that Avraham didn’t just want the field to belong to him, he wanted to belong to the field. He wanted to be invested in it. He wanted to be attached to it. And to accomplish this, it had to cost him.

A venerable chossid once brought his grandson to the Tzemach Tzedek and asked the Rebbe to bentch him that he should remember all the good and holy things he observed, “and then he’ll automatically be a y’rei Shamayim.” The Tzemach Tzedek responded: For over 50 years, my grandfather (the Alter Rebbe), my father-in-law (the Mitteler Rebbe) and I have toiled that chassidim should be b’maileh chassidim, automatic chassidim, rather, they should be y’rei shamayim through their own effort.

With all the automation around us, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to be personally invested in things. From autopay to automatic doors, we can accomplish so many things with minimal exertion. To be sure, when the main thing is the outcome, automation isn’t bad. But many important things we do are not about the outcome, but rather about the process and how the process changes us.

If I use AI to write a thank-you speech, I may gain automatic entry through my listeners’ hearts, but the door to my heart will remain closed.

Sicha of Shabbos Chayei Sarah 5719 (1958)

As a rule, Yiddishkeit is not about the outcome but the output. There is value in using an actual sefer over scrolling down a screen, simply because it requires more of my personal investment.

As of today, the Tehillim App doesn’t offer to automatically weather the pages for us. Worn, tear-stained pages are a result, and an indication of, personal investment and attachment.

With effort we can become involved in Yiddishkeit, not looking for shortcuts and automation whenever available. We’ll feel more attached to it and thus more attached to Hashem.

A Gut’n Shabbos,
Rabbi Mordechai Lipskier

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