Christianity Today published an article on July 14 titled “Robot ‘Church Fathers’ Might Curate New Canons.” The content of the piece was the revolution that artificial intelligence seems poised to unleash on the Christian Church. Five potential problems were laid out:
- First, what the author dubs “BibleGPTs” could reify what I call “concentric canons.” Their databases will require us to precisely define what writings are included in our Christian traditions.
- Second, BibleGPTs could create canonical mash-ups, because it’s easier for users to blend various Christian traditions and denominations together.
- Third, BibleGPTs can make it easier for users to ask “culture-bound” questions that the Bible doesn’t directly address. In response, BibleGPTs risk hallucinating heresies.
- Fourth, the loudest traditions will win. Because GPTs are based on statistical probabilities, the most probable theology will be overrepresented.
- Fifth, AI users risk offloading Bible reading. On-demand answers may replace our efforts to engage the Bible and wrestle with what is written.
The piece goes on to argue that these problems posed by BibleGPTs can be solved with careful usage of the technology:
Innovative Christians have an opportunity to create BibleGPTs that will make our Scripture diet healthier and more holistic. But this requires an intentional effort—in our design as much as our doctrine, and in our strategy as much as in our theology.
In 1943, Winston Churchill said, “We shape our buildings and afterwards our buildings shape us.” Likewise, as we shape our AI systems, they will shape us for years to come. The landscape of Bible engagement is indeed already changing—the skylines are not what they were even a year ago.
If we don’t think proactively about BibleGPTs, we will reap the consequences. But if we are clear and conscientious in how we design them, the opportunities are incredible. The best designed BibleGPTs will do what the Bible itself does: encourage and enable Christians to connect with God in ways that transform them and equip them for mission.
I admire the optimism about our capacity to carefully offload the spiritual responsibilities of church leaders to a line of code, but the problems laid out above are no small matter. In particular, the question of “hallucinating heresy” should be enough to make anyone stop and consider whether that risk is worth the change. Is it so necessary for the Church to embrace this new technology that it endangers the flock’s spiritual salvation? My answer remains the same:
Artificial intelligence, like all great technological revolutions, has the potential to bring the world both unimaginable benefits and unspeakable horrors. As Christians in the time of Rome would have said, cum Deo ludit homo daemones parit — when man plays at God, he births demons.
Major changes in the tools man uses in his life have always come with a major risk that he loses himself in the tool; the challenge is to know when the tool deserves to be used and when it should be set aside. When it comes to religion, artificial intelligence should have no role to play. God can’t be digitized, and we should not be so hubristic as to think otherwise.