Do We Truly Want Mashiach’s World of Peace?

(Revised for Clarity, Flow, and Depth)

Mashiach, Money & AI: Are We Ready

At the very end of Sefer Zecharyah, the Navi speaks about the future day when the light of HaShem will be revealed in Yerushalayim, the Beit HaMikdash, the Holy Temple, will be restored to its place, and all existence will be drawn toward kedushah, holiness. Then the Navi says something unusual:

“On that day, there will no longer be a kena’ani in the House of HaShem of Hosts” (Zecharyah 14:21).

At first glance, the pasuk is difficult. Why does the Navi need to tell us that there will no longer be a kena’ani, a Canaanite, in the House of HaShem? Were the Canaanites not already gone long before? What hidden point is the Navi revealing about the future world of Mashiach?

The answer begins with a deeper meaning of the word kena’ani. In Tanakh and Chazal, kena’ani does not only mean a Canaanite in the ethnic sense. It can also mean a merchant, a trader, one who lives through buying and selling. We see this in Hoshea 12:8, in Mishlei 31:24, and in the words of Chazal. Rashi explains in Eishet Chayil that kena’ani means tagar, a merchant.

Now the words of the Navi open.

“On that day, there will no longer be a kena’ani in the House of HaShem” does not merely mean that an ancient nation will be absent. It means that the inner structure of human life will be different. The world of Mashiach will no longer be built around the spirit of the merchant, the inner posture that looks at another person and asks, “What can I gain from him?”

This does not mean that money itself is evil. Money can become a vessel for mitzvah, chesed, tzedakah, Torah, healing, family, dignity, and communal strength. The problem is not the coin. The problem is the craving. The problem is when mammon, money, becomes the silent center around which the mind circles, the heart trembles, and the personality builds its identity.

The Coin Leaving the Pocket Is Not a Curse

Chazal teach a startling statement: Ein ben David ba ad shetichleh perutah min hakis, the son of David does not come until the coin ceases from the pocket.

At first, this sounds frightening. A person may hear it and imagine poverty, collapse, instability, or humiliation. But on a deeper level, this teaching is not describing the final future as a negative decree. It is not telling us that the perfected world will be a world of lack. Rather, it is revealing that the final redemption cannot be built upon the old illusion that life is secured by the coin in the pocket.

The coin ceasing from the pocket means that the false throne of money is removed.

It means that the world no longer bows before purchasing power.

It means that human worth is no longer measured by private accumulation.

It means that the heart no longer trembles before the question, “How much do I have?”

It means that mankind begins to discover that HaShem, not money, is the true Source of life.

This is not poverty as the goal. The goal is freedom from the worship of money. The goal is not deprivation. The goal is a world so filled with Divine knowledge, Divine kindness, and Divine providence that the old anxiety of possession loses its authority over the soul.

Likutei Moharan teaches that one of the revelations of Mashiach is the nullification of taavat mammon, the craving for money. This is tied to the pasuk:

“On that day, man will cast away his idols of silver and his idols of gold” (Yeshayahu 2:20).

The idols of silver and gold are not only statues. They are also the hidden powers a person trusts when he no longer feels held by HaShem.

This is why tzedakah, charity or righteous giving, is so deep. When a person gives tzedakah, he is not simply moving funds from one place to another. He is breaking an inner spell. He is telling his own nefesh, his lower soul, “My life is not held together by grasping. My security is not created by possession. My blessing does not come from control. Everything I have is from HaShem, and therefore I can open my hand.”

This is already a taste of the future world.

Because in truth, the world of Mashiach is not only a world where external idols collapse. It is a world where the inner idol also collapses. The idol of control. The idol of self-importance. The idol of endless acquisition. The idol of “I am what I own, what I earn, what I influence, what I can extract, what I can command.”

And when that idol falls, the question becomes frighteningly honest:

What remains of me?

What remains when I am no longer measuring myself by money?

What remains when I am no longer trying to turn every relationship into leverage?

What remains when another human being is no longer a prospect, a client, a competitor, a lead, a resource, or a stepping stone?

What remains is the real person.

And that is why geulah, redemption, is both beautiful and terrifying. It does not merely free us from our enemies. It frees us from our false selves.

Peace Must Begin Within

Yeshayahu describes Yemot HaMashiach, the days of Mashiach, as a world of impossible peace:

“The wolf will dwell with the sheep, and the leopard will lie down with the young goat” (Yeshayahu 11:6).

But peace cannot begin with animals. Peace must begin in the human heart.

Likutei Moharan teaches that there is shalom be’atzamotav, peace in one’s bones, an inner peace without which a person cannot truly pray. When a person is internally divided, when his will is pulled by jealousy, fear, craving, honor, anger, comparison, and resentment, then his prayer is also scattered. He may say the words, but the “I” who prays is fragmented.

This is why Tehillim says:

“There is no peace in my bones because of my sin” (Tehillim 38:4).

Sin is not only an act done outside the person. It creates inner disorder. It makes the soul unable to rest inside itself. The person may continue functioning, producing, succeeding, and impressing others, but within, the bones are at war.

Mishlei therefore says:

“Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear HaShem and turn away from evil” (Mishlei 3:7).

Yirat HaShem, fear or awe of HaShem, is not meant to crush the person. It restores proportion. It reminds the ego that it is not god. It teaches the will that it is not sovereign. It allows the person to turn away from evil not because he is ashamed of being seen, but because he truly wants to become whole before HaShem.

Only such a person can become a vessel for peace.

This is why peace cannot be imposed from the outside. A treaty can stop a war, but it cannot heal the heart. A policy can restrain violence, but it cannot remove hatred. A system can manage tension, but it cannot create true shalom. Shalom is not merely the absence of conflict. Shalom is the revelation of proper unity, where each part rests in its place, each will is sweetened, and the many become able to serve the One.

Simchah Takes Us Out, Shalom Brings Us Home

This is the deep meaning of Yeshayahu 55:12:

“For you shall leave in simchah, joy, and in shalom, peace, you will be brought.”

There are two stages.

First, we leave exile through simchah. Joy gives the soul the courage to step out of the narrow place. Joy tells a person, “You are not trapped in what you were. HaShem still wants you. HaShem still calls you. HaShem still has good for you.”

But being brought to the destination requires shalom. To leave captivity is one thing. To arrive at the perfected world is another. A person can leave Mitzrayim, Egypt, and still carry Pharaoh inside his heart. A person can walk out of exile and still think like an exile. He can still measure himself by bricks, quotas, fear, status, and control.

Simchah begins the journey. Shalom completes it.

The Kena’ani Appears Where There Is Strife

Now we can understand the connection between commerce and contention.

R’ Nachman points to the pasuk in Bereshit 13:7:

“There was strife between the herdsmen of Avram and the herdsmen of Lot, and the kena’ani was then in the land.”

Where there is strife, the kena’ani appears. Where there are opposing wills, the merchant emerges.

Why?

Because business as we know it is often built upon divided desire. The seller wants the highest price. The buyer wants the lowest price. The advertiser wants to awaken lack. The consumer wants to satisfy lack. The competitor wants to take market share. The owner wants margin. The customer wants advantage. Even when everyone behaves politely and legally, the inner structure is often one of competing wills.

In this world, we call it negotiation. We call it strategy. We call it the market. We call it the art of the deal.

But the Torah asks us to look more deeply.

Is this the final form of human society?

Is this the world we are praying for when we ask for Mashiach?

Certainly, in the present world, there is a holy way to conduct business. A person must be honest, faithful, pleasant, and careful not to deceive. Parnassah, livelihood, can be avodat HaShem, service of HaShem. Feeding a family is holy. Supporting Torah is holy. Paying workers properly is holy. Creating useful things is holy. Lending with kindness is holy. Building vessels that help society is holy.

But all of this is still within a world that needs repair.

The perfected world is not one where greed becomes more polite. It is one where greed is uprooted.

The perfected world is not one where extraction becomes more efficient. It is one where extraction loses its throne.

The perfected world is not one where the craving for money is better managed. It is one where the craving itself is healed.

That is why Zecharyah says, “There will no longer be a kena’ani in the House of HaShem.” In the House of HaShem, a person does not come to extract. He comes to be elevated. He does not come to convert another person into profit. He comes to convert his own ego into an offering.

From an Economy of Taking to an Economy of Giving

Our present economy is largely built on give and take. I give you something, and you give me something. I offer labor, you offer payment. I offer a product, you offer money. I offer value, you offer compensation. This system can be conducted honestly, and when guided by Torah, it can become a vessel for great holiness.

But it is still not the deepest future.

The future economy of Mashiach is not merely a better marketplace. It is a world where giving itself becomes natural. A world where people do not need to be constantly convinced, pressured, marketed to, or incentivized in order to help one another. A world where kindness rises from within because the heart itself has been refined.

This is a world of tzedakah.

In its practical halachic expression, tzedakah certainly includes giving money to those in need. But at its root, tzedakah is connected to tzedek, righteousness, alignment, and justice. It is the act of restoring something to its proper place. It is the soul saying, “What HaShem has given me is not only for me. It was entrusted to me so that I may become a channel of goodness.”

In the world to come, giving will not feel like a loss. Kindness will not feel like an interruption. Helping another person will not feel like a sacrifice of one’s real life. It will be recognized as life itself.

People will naturally want to be kind.

People will naturally want to give.

People will naturally want to help.

People will volunteer before anyone asks for volunteers.

Not because individuality disappears, but because the heart becomes aligned with HaShem’s will. When the knowledge of HaShem fills the world, the soul no longer experiences kindness as something foreign. It experiences kindness as its own deepest truth.

This will not necessarily unfold all at once in a way that the mind can easily imagine. Redemption is a process. The repair of the world is a process. The removal of the craving for money is a process. The transformation of human society from extraction to generosity is a process.

But this is the direction. This is the goal. This is the inner movement of history.

The world is moving from taking to giving.

From control to trust.

From possession to providence.

From survival anxiety to knowledge of HaShem.

Artificial Intelligence and the Future Economy

This is also where modern tools, including artificial intelligence, must be understood with great seriousness and great hope.

A tool is not the final question. The will behind the tool is the question.

Artificial intelligence can be used negatively. It can be used to manipulate people, replace human dignity, capture attention, deepen greed, accelerate deception, and turn the human being into a data point, a consumer, a target, or a source of profit.

But that is not the only possibility.

When guided by wisdom, humility, Torah, compassion, and service of HaShem, artificial intelligence can become part of a great historical shift. It can reduce unnecessary toil. It can help organize knowledge. It can make education more accessible. It can assist healing, planning, communication, creativity, and problem-solving. It can remove burdens that previously consumed enormous amounts of human time and strength.

And if used correctly, it can help mankind begin to taste a world where the purpose of life is not the endless creation of money.

For generations, people have sacrificed vast portions of their lives to livelihood. Days, years, strength, attention, emotional presence, family time, learning time, prayer time, and inner quiet were placed upon the altar of survival. Much of this was necessary in the world as we knew it. A person had to work. A family had to eat. A community had to sustain itself.

But what if technology is now beginning to reveal that the final purpose of human intelligence is not simply to produce more labor, more consumption, and more profit?

What if hashgachah pratit, Divine providence, is showing us that many burdens can be lifted, not so that mankind becomes lazy, empty, distracted, and indulgent, but so that mankind becomes more available for its true purpose?

To know HaShem.

To learn Torah.

To discover the soul.

To build families with presence.

To raise children with attention.

To heal old wounds.

To serve with joy.

To create beauty.

To help one another without constantly asking, “What will I receive in return?”

Artificial intelligence, like every major vessel in creation, arrives with a test. If it is captured by taavat mammon, the craving for money, it becomes another kena’ani. It becomes another merchant standing in the doorway, another system asking how to extract more from the human being.

But if it is aligned with HaShem’s will, it can become a servant of redemption. It can help move society from an economy of scarcity toward an economy of abundance, from an economy of endless toil toward an economy of meaningful contribution, from an economy of profit as the final measure toward an economy where kindness, wisdom, and human dignity become central.

Perhaps this is one reason such tools are emerging now. Not because technology is redemption, chas veShalom. Technology is not Mashiach. Technology is not Torah. Technology is not HaShem.

But technology can become a vessel.

And hashgachah pratit teaches us to ask why such vessels are appearing in the world at this stage of history.

Perhaps our eyes are being illuminated to realize that money is not the essence of reality. Livelihood is not the purpose of existence. Economic competition is not the final structure of creation. The human being was not created merely to produce, consume, compete, and retire.

The human being was created to know HaShem.

The human being was created to reveal the Divine image.

The human being was created to transform the world into a dwelling place for the Shechinah.

A World Where Things Become Free Because Hearts Become Full

When we speak of a future where things may become essentially free, we should not understand this as a cheap fantasy of endless consumption. The dream is not that everyone receives unlimited objects without responsibility. That would not be redemption. That would only be materialism without payment.

The deeper vision is different.

It is a world where the basic burdens of life are lightened because human wisdom, technology, generosity, and Divine blessing are aligned.

It is a world where food, shelter, healing, learning, and dignity are not treated as weapons of control.

It is a world where people do not need to spend their entire lives fighting merely to survive.

It is a world where time returns to the soul.

Time for Torah.

Time for tefillah.

Time for family.

Time for quiet.

Time for healing.

Time for discovering who HaShem made us to be.

Time for becoming human in the fullest sense.

This is not the destruction of responsibility. It is the elevation of responsibility. Instead of being driven mainly by financial pressure, a person begins to ask: “What am I here to give? What light did HaShem place in me? What kindness can I reveal? What wisdom can I share? What brokenness can I help repair?”

Such a world would not be empty of work. It would be full of higher work.

The work of learning.

The work of prayer.

The work of raising children.

The work of making peace.

The work of healing.

The work of building communities of holiness.

The work of knowing HaShem.

In our present world, a person often works in order to live. In the future world, life itself will become service.

Do We Want Mashiach’s World?

Here the matter becomes very personal.

A person may say every day, “I want Mashiach.” But does he want Mashiach’s world?

Does he want a world where human value is not measured by productivity?

Does he want a world where intelligence is not used to dominate?

Does he want a world where wealth is not a crown?

Does he want a world where the deepest question is not “How much can I make?” but “How much truth can I reveal? How much kindness can I do? How much of HaShem’s will can I serve?”

Does he want a world where his inner Pharaoh loses his slaves?

This is why the avodah, the spiritual work, must begin now.

When a person makes peace with another Jew, he is not only resolving a social problem. He is participating in the repair of creation. When he gives in where he could have insisted, when he speaks softly where he could have sharpened the dispute, when he honors another where he could have diminished him, he is building the world of Mashiach inside the world of exile.

And when he gives tzedakah, he is not only helping the poor. He is weakening the false god of possession.

When he guards his speech, he is not only avoiding lashon hara, evil speech. He is making room for shalom.

When he prays with sincerity, he is not only fulfilling an obligation. He is aligning his inner world so that general peace can be drawn into the worlds.

When he learns Torah, he is not only gathering information. He is allowing his mind to be reshaped by Divine wisdom.

When he stops seeing people as instruments, he is already stepping into the courtyard of the future Beit HaMikdash.