Spirituality & AI, Part VII: Gift-Wrapped Gospel (1)

I was going to show you a short video made by AI that has gone viral.  

But mysteriously, the video (and in fact the producer’s whole account) was taken down from YouTube this week, but there’s something similar at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXwXXOVtXH4. It is not as sophisticated as the one I wanted to show you. The actors don’t speak and don’t even act. It’s more like a series of still images with a narrator.

I think it might be enough to give people an idea. The video I wanted to show you really looks like a movie. The virtual actors really act and speak just as in a movie. So it’s so much more realistic and so gripping, you cannot help but watch it. Several of you have, in fact, seen it before it was taken down, and I know they include Connie.

C-J: I did watch it and it’s interesting. I always say God goes before us, but I really am able to see it. I went to an art show, and what you had shown me was done by one of the artists there, using ChatGPT 5, and essentially it was channeling his spirit. All I could think of, as I was reflecting, was that it’s like channeling the tarot cards. It’s a very dangerous thing, because the Bible is very clear that we fight not against flesh and blood, but against powers and spirits and principalities all around us.

It really chilled me, I don’t know if this is the end times, and it may not be relevant to what we’re talking about, but God has always told his prophets to open their eyes, for behold, this is coming…. God says consistently throughout Scripture, this is the time. Pay attention. It’s your time, pay attention. So It chilled me. I see AI in a completely different way, or as a part of the fabric the tapestry, and it scared me.

David: I should have mentioned that the movie I wanted to show (I call it a movie, but it’s only eight minutes) was in two parts. The first part was a trailer about Revelation, but the main feature, so to speak, was about Elijah’s meeting with Ahab and his subsequent calling down of fire on Mount Carmel to destroy the prophets of Baal. That’s from 1 Kings 18. I read that chapter later to see to what extent it matched the film script, and indeed it was faithful to the biblical script in terms of the words spoken. But the visuals may or may not have been what you would have had in your mind if you read just the words in the Bible.

Anyway, my first reaction when I saw it was dismay and, like Connie, almost visceral discomfort. But when I stopped to think about it and to discuss it with (what else) ChatGPT, I eventually calmed down.

Here’s how correspondent Geoff Brumfiel somewhat inaccurately described it on NPR on September 7:

In a recent video posted to the AI Bible’s Youtube channel, buildings crumble and terrified-looking people claw their way through the rubble. Horns blare, and an angel appears floating above the chaos. Then come monsters, including a seven-headed dragon that looks like something out of a Dungeons and Dragons rulebook.

The visuals in this eight-minute video, which depicts a section of the Book of Revelation, are entirely generated by artificial intelligence tools. At times it feels like a high-budget Hollywood movie, at times more like a scene from a video game, and at times like fantasy art. Despite the somewhat muddled visual styles, viewers seem to like what they see – it has racked up over 750,000 views in the two months since it was posted.

The point I’ve been hammering all these weeks is that we are entering a new epoch in human history. (By the way, I just saw Google’s former long-time CEO Eric Schmidt in a recent interview also saying we are entering a new epoch. You heard me talk about AGI—artificial general intelligence—last week. He says that will be here in 3-5 years. But he went on to talk about ASI—artificial super intelligence—which will arrive about 8 years from now. AGI is intelligence that more or less equals that of a human being. ASI is intelligence that matches that of all of humanity. He asked the interesting question: Can a lesser intelligence control a greater intelligence?)

Anyway, back to our topic. This new epoch is one in which AI can seem like a divinely inspired and even divinely authorized oracle. As we see from this video, it can help spin scripture into spectacle and turn prophecy into a kind of cinematic theme park. On the one hand, that means Scriptural content can travel further and faster than ever before; but on the other, we have to ask: what exactly is being spread? Is it the good news of the gospel, or is it just the flashy parts, the “sexy bits” of the Bible that grab attention but leave the heart of faith behind?

This is not a new question. In every era formed by some new technology or medium of communication, the church has faced it, in one form or another. From illuminated manuscripts in monasteries, to stained glass in cathedrals, to radio revivals and TV evangelists, Christians have always had to ask: do these wrappings help people to get the message of God’s love, or do they get in the way, do they obstruct or obfuscate or even alter the message?

That is what I want to explore with you today. History shows that the wrappings of faith change with culture and technology, but the message itself does not change. The heart of Christianity—the test of any medium, any theology, any church practice—is beautifully simple. It is whether it helps us to love God and to love our neighbor.

When Jesus was asked to name the greatest commandment, He didn’t hesitate:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22).

That is as concise a summary as we will ever find. Everything else—the sacrifices in Leviticus, the parables of the Gospels, the letters of Paul, the hymns of Revelation—hangs on this axis. Your love of God, and your love of your neighbor.

The same truth is echoed beyond Christianity. Rabbi Hillel, when asked to sum up the Torah while standing on one foot, said: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. The rest is commentary—go and learn it.” In other words, the law is commentary; love is the core. And as I have tried to show in previous talks, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism also have parallel teachings that circle this same simple rule.

So if love is the core, what role do all the wrappings play? Wrappings such as the Bible itself, temples and cathedrals, stained glass and icons, priests and pastors, and now AI videos? They are all, in one sense, window dressing intended to draw the eye, capture the imagination, lure you through the door. But once inside that door, do we confront the heart of the matter—love of God and neighbor—or are we distracted by the shimmering wrapper?

The “greatest commandment” serves as a plumb line passing through history all the way into the age of AI. It reveals that Augustine and Aquinas, Luther and Calvin, Kierkegaard and Bonhoeffer, as well as voices from the East and from the modern world—all wrestled with this same tension. The wrappings—the media, the technologies—of their age changed, but the test remained the same: do the new media foster love of God and neighbor, or not?

Let’s walk through some of the great voices, and see how each of them measured the wrappings against the plumb line of love.

Augustine, the great North African bishop of the fourth century, taught that the very heart of the Christian life is caritas—the love of God poured out into our hearts, flowing into love of neighbor. For him, the Scriptures, the sacraments, the church’s authority—these were good and necessary but only as means to an end. He said: “If it builds up love, it is from God; if it does not, it is not of God.”

Augustine had no illusions about the danger of wrappings. He knew that rituals, sermons, even the eloquence of preaching could seduce people into admiring the style while missing the substance. But if those wrappings helped move the heart toward God and neighbor, they were good. If not, they were empty show.

Eight centuries later, Thomas Aquinas would take a more expansive view. For Aquinas, the wrappings of culture—art, philosophy, music, architecture—can all be taken up and used by God to perfect nature. The soaring Gothic cathedrals echoing the Gregorian chants and bathing worshippers in the heavenly light filtered through the stained glass windows, and the incisive arguments of scholastic theology—all of these were, to Aquinas, gifts that could elevate the mind toward God.

But still, the test remained the same. Wrappings were good only insofar as they cultivated caritas. Pride, vanity, self-indulgence—all these twisted gifts into stumbling blocks. The cathedral was justified not by its grandeur, but by whether it helped the poor farmer or the nobleman to love God more deeply and serve his neighbor more faithfully.

Then came the sixteenth century and Martin Luther. For Luther, too many of the church’s wrappings had become obstacles. He stripped away the relics, indulgences, and elaborate liturgies to uncover the beating heart of the gospel: salvation by grace alone, through faith alone.

But Luther was no enemy of technology, of media. He embraced the new printing press, to distribute Bibles and pamphlets across Europe. He wrote hymns in the common language, so that ordinary people could sing the faith. In Luther we see the same pattern: wrappings are either barriers that obscure God’s grace, or tools that carry God’s grace straight into the heart.

In Geneva, Calvin was more austere. He reduced worship to its essentials: Scripture was read, sacraments were observed, and prayers were offered, but images and elaborate ceremonies were stripped away. He wanted clarity, not austerity for its own sake. He did not want human showiness to eclipse the majesty of God. Wrappings that served humility and obedience were permitted; wrappings that fed vanity were not.

Fast forward to the nineteenth century, and Kierkegaard in Denmark. He looked around at the comfortable Lutheran establishment and saw a faith that had become all wrapping, with no heart. Everyone was “Christian” because they were born into it. But where was the personal encounter with the living Christ?

Kierkegaard spoke of “the scandal of true faith.” The scandal is that Christianity does not flatter our reason or our pride—it calls us to believe in a God—by definition, omniscient, omnipotent, all-powerful—that allows itself be crucified? That is offensive, shocking, even absurd to worldly logic. And yet that is the core. Wrappings that made Christianity easy, respectable, or fashionable, Kierkegaard saw as betrayals of the scandal at the heart of faith.

Finally, in the twentieth century, we hear the voice of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In Nazi Germany, the church often wrapped itself in the flag, in patriotic hymns, in empty ceremonies. Bonhoeffer saw the danger and called it out. He spoke of “cheap grace”—grace as a doctrine, grace as a commodity, grace as an excuse. Grace without repentance, grace without discipleship, grace without the cross.

True grace, he said, is indeed free, but never cheap. It cost God everything, and it demands of us everything. Costly grace calls us to take up our cross and follow Christ in obedience and love, even when that path leads to suffering. Bonhoeffer himself went on to follow that path to the Nazi gallows.

For him, the wrappings of religion and the trappings of the church meant nothing if they did not lead to discipleship rooted in love of God and neighbor.

From Augustine to Bonhoeffer, the plumb line is straight and consistent. The wrappings of faith may shift with culture: from Latin chants to Gothic arches, from the printing press to podcast sermons and AI videography. But the question has always been the same: do these wrappings bring us closer to love of God and neighbor—or do they distract us, amuse us, or entangle us in spectacle?

That same question now faces us in the age of AI.

Next week, I will continue and conclude this discussion and indeed this series of talks on AI and spirituality. We will turn to the East, to the Orthodox Church, to icons and liturgy, and we will hear from modern voices warning us that the medium itself always reshapes the message.

But for now, let examine that last question: Do the Gospel’s wrappings bring us closer to love of God and neighbor—or do they distract us, amuse us, or even lead us spiritually astray?

Donald: Becky and I had the great fortune of attending one of the largest churches in Chicago—Willow Creek—which helped launch the contemporary service movement. I don’t know if it’s five thousand people or more—maybe seven—but they held three weekend services. It was a draw for the community.

For us it was about an hour and a half from our home, driveway to driveway. People would say, “That’s a long way to go to church.” Here in Berrien Springs—some would call it the Mecca of Adventism, or one of them—I used to respond, “What is your soul worth?” Becky and I found something there that was more than a wrapping, though many who never attended thought it was all wrappings.

I even got some prominent people from Andrews University to go with us, just to experience it. It’s easy to judge when you haven’t experienced something yourself. Parts of it were very much wrapping. The reaction of one of the Adventist dignitaries was: “It’s pretty much okay. You have coffee here, a store there, a bookstore—and so on. It feels like a complete community. You don’t have to go elsewhere.”

The little illustration I want to share, which I think fits what David is talking about, is this: A couple of miles from the megachurch—this is rural Chicago—there was a little white church with a steeple that probably seated no more than a hundred people. Everyone drove past it on their way to the megachurch. They had one of those portable, plastic lettered signs, lit up in the parking lot. It read: “No tickets needed.”

Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Bible has wrappings, in a sense—the sensational stories you mentioned are wrappings. They’re not essential to the plumb line, perhaps.

Where are we today? Have we ramped up the wrappings? Once upon a time we could only read and visualize; then we heard it on radio; then we saw it on TV; now it’s on a screen again—but generated differently. Some wrappings seem beyond human capacity to illustrate.

So, where are we? “No tickets needed” to a contemporary service with all the wrappings. Yet if you take it apart, there’s still a core. There was great value in going.

Kiran: Almost every religion says “love your neighbor” or “be your brother’s keeper.” The difference with Protestant Christianity, as I understand it, is that while everyone knows we’re supposed to love our neighbor, we’re incapable of it on our own.

Maybe we’re biologically programmed to love our children, spouses, and parents—but that’s about it. To truly love others as sinful, selfish human beings requires a divine act—agape love—that happens when a person opens their heart to Christ. All the wealth, wisdom, and even Christian wrappings can’t save a human being. The conversion of the heart—repentance and acceptance—is God’s work.

Even the most eloquent preacher is only a tool; they cannot save anyone. They can reflect the light of God—or block it and create darkness. That’s the crux. When you talked about caritas: caritas says, “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” But agape says, “You’re incapable of going to God; He comes to you.”

If God is coming to me, the tool doesn’t matter. He built a tool in me—the inner voice that can speak to me. That’s how I’m thinking about it.

Don: I saw the AI-generated movie David wanted to show us. I’m a gentle person; violence makes me turn away. I was horrified at parts of it. Then I asked, “Why are the wrappings in Daniel and Revelation so horrifying?” Beasts with horns and eyes and wings—why not flowers you could pick and smell?

There’s something about the wrapping that matters. Even when AI is making pictures that are faithful to the biblical descriptions, they become frightening when you put them on a big screen and blow them up.

If we expect religion to be a place to get answers, AI will give you more answers than anything else. If you’re looking for a religion of answers, AI may be satisfactory—maybe even an improvement over what we’ve expected from churches. But if we’re looking for love and grace, that’s not something artificial intelligence can meter.

C-J: I want to return to what I said about AI and channeling, like tarot cards. I won’t debate tarot except to say it’s supposed to be a gateway to messages from the spirit world. It’s dangerous. I speak from experience: only God can get you out once you step in.

That’s my concern about ChatGPT. Dr. Weaver said AI can do for him what nobody else can. As Kiran said, only God moves toward us; without God, we don’t understand what we’re seeing.

This morning I tried to get into class and it said I didn’t have Wi-Fi. Then, suddenly, I did. Things happen so quickly and automatically that we think we’re in control, but we aren’t. In the spirit world we must constantly seek discernment from God. Many people just say, “This is cool—I want to learn more, see what else it can do.” Like Donald said, you click thumbs-down and a whole new world opens; you want to go further down the rabbit hole and integrate it into “your truth.”

We’re on a slippery slope. We need to walk through the weeds straight toward God, not be distracted by wrappings. As Kiran said, God finds us—and the Holy Spirit quickens the light in us.

When I saw the AI-generated image of a veteran, I felt like I saw his soul—and it chilled me. I was afraid. I caution everyone: stay close to the Word of God; stay in prayer. Don’t deep-dive without discernment. Understand the enemy.

There are wonderful things here—new ways of being and communicating—but it’s also dangerous. Having been there and brought out by God, that’s my testimony.

David: I think you’re reflecting a discomfort we all feel. There is something unearthly about it. Donald noted that some images look like something no human could have made. So you’re not off base at all. That’s why we’re having these discussions.

C-J: Years ago I used to meditate (no drugs) and at times felt I entered another dimension. I think that’s coming into our dimension in a different way now. It may sound odd, but for those who practice it, it’s real. It becomes a portal. I can’t tell you how dangerous that is—not just spiritually but in a broader sense. Other dimensions are real. It’s scary.

Donald: We’re really talking about motives—what’s driving people to use this tool to tell the story they want told. Where do they start? With sensationalism, because it grabs people. Starting with the plumb line wouldn’t be as sensational.

A year and a half or two years ago, the conversation was about The Chosen—a contemporary look at the Gospel through the disciples’ eyes. Some were wary of the motives behind it. I don’t know who created the AI video we saw, but when I look at it, it’s not the still, small voice. I can’t hear that through all the noise, though it’s part of the biblical message.

That raises a question: why are Daniel and Revelation so central for some? Some of us feel the Gospels are enough.

Carolyn: I’ve seen so many brochures for Daniel and Revelation seminars—graphic beasts with horns. I hear friends talk about love, and I’m not sure how to weigh that against these wrappings. The brochures are so graphic. Why would anyone come except out of fear?

If I ask AI about a contorted beast but it doesn’t have Holy Spirit “wrappings,” that’s dangerous ground. I’d like to converse with AI and ask, “Do you believe in God?”

I appreciate stories of grace and love more than the graphic end-times imagery. We might all die before Christ returns; why not live in the joy of salvation through love and grace? Maybe I’m a Pollyanna, not as much a realist as others, but inside I love the fruits of the Spirit. I want them in my life and to share them with my neighbors, rather than focus on beasts from Daniel and Revelation—even though I know end times will come. I’m tottering here.

Reinhard: I saw a pastor interviewed on social media about AI and the gospel. He said AI will enhance the gospel, but it’s like water—essential, yet potentially destructive in a flood.

Compared to brochures, a short AI film is more vivid and alive. If Revelation were presented in that form, it might help our faith—even if it’s scary. The Holy Spirit will help us.

As Christians we need balance: love of neighbor and knowledge of God’s plan. People go to megachurches because they’re seeking something—quality of message, perhaps. Likewise we seek more truth. Tools like this can be important if they help us understand God’s plan and the future.

C-J: To Carolyn’s “Why can’t we all just get along?”—the prophets had a specific job. They used the imagery of their time and its idols. Today we have different idols: music, imagery, instant gratification, longevity, education. When prophets receive a vision, it’s important—and frightening.

Not everyone has the same calling. Some are called to kindness, gentleness, and grace. Some to healing and teaching. Some are willing to risk asking: “Have you considered this potential?” We need to be open-minded—but Jesus’ purpose was to arm and remind us about grace and mercy, and also to be warriors when needed.

It’s not a straight line with God. Each of us has a mission. The more we lean into God, the more we trust that He’s molding us for the time when He’ll say, “Now—go.” I agree with Reinhard and others: each of us stands in a different corner of the room with different experiences. The common denominator is that God is resident in us and has provided everything we need. Trust your assignment. God is in control.

Donald: In last week’s sermon at PMC, our church, the new pastor led a review of who we are as a people—mission and strategy. Earlier this spring they hosted sessions where members could preview and give feedback. We thought it was important, so we participated.

Sadly, in our session only five to ten people joined, and few spoke. The title slide said: “A Righteous Revolution—Where Action Is Okay.” The next slide is where I tripped up. After feedback, the elders chose to keep this language:

“Being transformed by Jesus. Our mission is to make disciples, share His life-changing message of salvation, hope, and final warning with the world.”

You can probably guess what tripped me: Is it critical to include “final warning”? Using those two words together emphasizes it. We love the new pastor, and his perspective is that the final warning is a warning of hope—amen to that. But last year he defined Adventism such that if Daniel and Revelation aren’t central, you’re not staying true to the faith. So “final warning” fits with the brochures we grew up with.

This matters for our discussion: are we using wrappings to grab attention because the plumb line isn’t sensational enough? Those using AI—what’s their motive? Why start with the most sensational depictions?

C-J: Jesus asked His disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” That’s the question. Who do you say He is—personally? What has the Holy Spirit revealed to you? That’s your mission statement: you are a child of God, designed for this time in history. Do you receive it?

All the other stuff can become like tarot—“Tell me my future; give me power.” God isn’t like that. Revelation is given as needed. Some people seem to have an incredible relationship with God; that doesn’t make the rest of us less.

It’s not about the demons; it’s about your relationship with God. It doesn’t matter what church you attend. The Word of God is brought to life by the Spirit, regardless of translation. There was a time with no Bible and many couldn’t read; daily life forced people to seek God constantly.

This may sound simple, but it’s work—the work of avoiding traps. Many people treat the world as a task list and neglect relationships—with spouse, boss, child, neighbor, and God. God says over and over: it’s about relationship. We learn it at His feet.

Anonymous: Everything I heard today was valuable. I think we’re largely in agreement: yes, AI is dangerous; yes, we know God; yes, the Spirit can help; yes, AI can also help, as Reinhard said.

But anything that captures our attention can be dangerous—the church, the pastor, religion itself. Some trust pastors, some trust AI, some trust institutions. Satan is smart and can attract us away from God through anything—even “good” things.

Thank God for grace. When I’m in grace, I trust that I’m in God’s hands. I can’t protect myself, but I’m protected by God’s promises. I’m not worried about how the world ends or how dangerous AI is. God’s judgment is against sin, not us.

I’m concerned for others who can be easily drawn toward deception.

Don: It isn’t just about our individual reaction to AI, but about people who don’t share our perspective or reliance on grace and might be misled or frightened.

David: If people are misled, one reason may be the motives behind the wrappings—behind the AI. I’ve seen a “religious AI” videos depicting Mary as a TikTok “influencer.” She announces, “Hey guys, I just had a visit from an angel—he made me pregnant!” Then she’s in the manger, doing constant selfies.

You wonder if the creators are mocking the Nativity, or using modern media to reach kids who won’t hear it otherwise? I don’t know. But over two thousand years the plumb line of love has remained constant. The medium changes; people still love God and neighbor. I don’t think AI can change that. God’s love can overwhelm anything the devil throws at us, AI included.

Things will still change, though. Old ways of influence may not reach the TikTok generation. 

Next week I’ll look at the Eastern Church and iconography—another form of wrapping—and how it shapes people’s relationship with God.

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