In an era defined by rapid technological advancement, the rise of Artificial Intelligence (AI) has captivated our imaginations and transformed our daily lives in profound ways. From autonomous vehicles and virtual personal assistants to medical diagnostics and financial predictions, AI systems are becoming increasingly integrated into our society. While these advancements hold the promise of enhancing efficiency, productivity, and convenience, they also bring forth a shadow of uncertainty and concern. The dangers of AI loom large on the horizon, casting doubts about the potential risks it poses to privacy, security, employment, ethics, and even the very fabric of our humanity.

As just one example of the eerie capabilities of AI, consider that the previous paragraph was completely generated by the online program ChatGPT (Chat Generative Pre-trained Transformer) in response to this prompt I gave it: “Can you write an opening essay paragraph for me about the dangers of AI?”

“Certainly!” came the helpful reply, and then the program, developed by the company OpenAI, typed out the above in less than ten seconds. (The rest of the article is written by me—I promise.)

The offerings of AI are both terrifying and tempting. Both feelings were expressed in a flippant remark by OpenAI’s CEO: “AI will probably, most likely, lead to the end of the world, but in the meantime, there’ll be great companies.” Less humorous is that various creators of AI have appealed to the government to impose regulations on their own technologies to protect society. These companies know that they are creating something that is inherently dangerous, but they simply can’t help themselves. They are asking for others to come in and stop them—illustrating the truth that, more than anything else, we need to be saved from ourselves. For now, it appears, the temptations of AI are stronger than the terrors.

Sermon-Writing and AI

As pastors, we are always called to apply the balm of Christ’s peace to the fears of the future. Whether it’s Harold Camping and his end-of-the-world predictions, or AI companies and their apocalyptic warnings, we echo Christ to our people, “See that you are not alarmed” (Matt. 24:6). Newfangled technologies are just as good an opportunity as any to remind our congregants that Christ is still ruling and that nothing is happening outside of his control (1 Cor. 15:25).

As sermon-writers, however, pastors have another touchpoint with this new technology. In the summer of 2023, Christianity Today published a Taiwanese Presbyterian pastor’s reflections on using ChatGPT for six months to help compose his sermons. His conclusion? In preaching, “there is room for the work of AI”—right alongside the Holy Spirit, he claims. The arrival of this technology has opened up opportunities for busy pastors that never existed before—but are they all good?

I have benefited before from AI in sermon preparation, using it like Google. For example, I might search: “What is a historical episode that illustrates the dangers of greed?” Sometimes the results are helpful, sometimes not. Either way, I’m soon on my way. I find it no different (nor any more helpful) than turning to my bookshelf and looking up “greed” in my copy of Simpson’s Contemporary Quotations. I am asking AI neither to interpret nor apply Scripture.

But one could just as easily give AI this prompt: “Write me a thirty-minute sermon on 1 John 1:1–4, with a three-point outline, utilizing insights from Puritan and Reformed scholars like John Calvin, Matthew Henry, and D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones”—and it will do it!

At one point in time, it was tempting for a minister on a late Saturday night after a chaotic week to pull out an old Keller or Piper sermon and reheat that for his people. But even beyond plagiarizing due to busyness or laziness, I believe there is likely another incentive behind our use of AI: the desire to be like God. AI is a snake in the pastor’s study, offering the destructive lie that we can know all as he does, or at least something close to it. We are called to grow in our knowledge of the Lord (2 Pet. 3:18), but, thanks to the internet, we have instant access to more information than ever before. Why learn anything if I can just ask Google?

Well, because Google, or ChatGPT, cannot stand in for a transformed heart and mind. God’s Word is to be stored up in our hearts, not the cloud. Neither the internet nor AI technologies can help us gain the knowledge of God’s will that we need to not sin against him (Ps. 119:11). By their alluring vastness, tools like ChatGPT can have the effect of pulling us further from God, not drawing us closer to him.

No Heart, No Power

We might also ask, What sorts of change would we expect an AI-generated sermon to produce in the hearts and lives of our hearers? John Stott famously quipped, “Sermonettes make Christianettes.” In the same vein, if all we are bringing to our people on Sunday is a surface-level insight into the Scripture—something that we grabbed off the internet as hurriedly as my son grabs a Pop-Tart on the way to school—we will produce surface-level Christians. If the message we preach is actually disconnected from our heart, since we ourselves have not marinated in it or meditated upon it throughout the week, how can we expect it to connect with our people? John Owen said, “A man preaches that sermon only well unto others which preaches itself in his own soul . . . if the word do not dwell with power in us, it will not pass with power from us.”

As pastors, our message must come from a heart that has been transformed by the sheer grace of the gospel. AI maybe could tell someone, “Go to the cross!” Only a forgiven sinner can issue the invitation, “Come to the cross,” because he himself is already there. People must know that we need the same Savior that we present to them. They need to know we believe the same Jesus we are imploring them to believe. They need to know we love the same Lord we are urging them to love. That appeal cannot be manufactured.

For all that AI can know or access, there is one thing that will forever be beyond its reach, and that is the congregation. The beauty of God’s design in the church is for his people to receive personal care from a shepherd who actually knows them. A book that I try to keep open on my desk every week as I prepare sermons is our church directory. What makes a compelling sermon is a prayerful searching of the meaning of the text, as well as a prayerful searching of the needs of the people. I love preaching at other churches, meeting new people, and visiting with my ministerial colleagues in different parts of the world. But it never feels the same, or quite as satisfying, as preaching to my people. I feel the Lord is able to use my ministry in a more effective way through the relationships that have been built up between pastor and parishioner over the years.

The same should be true for the congregant. Although listening to a well-known, gifted speaker at a conference or on a podcast can be very beneficial and edifying, your own pastor’s message should hit home in a more special way. He has tailor-made his message with you in mind. He has brought your name before God in prayer, asking that the Lord would bless this particular message to this particular listener. Your pastor is addressing needs you have and fears you face; he’s presenting hope for your week.

AI can do something that no preacher will ever be able to do: it can produce a sermon in one minute, a sermon that is potentially sound in exegesis and full of some interesting insights. But it will never be able to produce a sermon that speaks to the hearts of God’s people—and that’s the kind of sermon we’re called to preach.

The author is pastor of Community Presbyterian in Kalamazoo, Michigan. New Horizons, January 2024.