Hi there,
In April, I attended a Yale conference called "AI and the Ends of Humanity," and I can't stop thinking about one uncomfortable question:
If Christianity is about saying the right words and believing the right things, what happens when AI can do that too?
What if a robot prayed the sinner's prayer?
In my humble opinion, this is the kind of question that churches, seminaries, and Christian higher education should be discussing. So, I’ll be discussing it in three parts, this newsletter and the next two. See below.
3-part series on AI and Christian faith
Part 1: What If a Robot Prayed the Sinner's Prayer? (today)
Part 2: The Negative Space Where God Actually Works (June 25)
Part 3: The Church's Redemptive Moment in the Age of AI (July 2)
I hope you’ll follow along.
Peace,
—Julene
A quick note: This series explores uncomfortable questions that some might find challenging to traditional faith. I get it. I'm not writing to tear down but to help us rediscover what we might have lost. If you're feeling defensive reading this, you are not alone. Sit with that feeling as it surely is pointing toward something important.
I'm sharing this because I believe the church's response to AI will define our relevance in the next 100 years. We can either cling to rational frameworks that are lacking, or we can rediscover the mystical heart of Christianity that machines will not touch.
What if a robot prayed the sinner's prayer?
I can't stop thinking about this. ChatGPT can already write sermons, offer spiritual guidance, and quote Scripture with theological precision. What happens when it prays for salvation?
I write this only half joking.
When I was in middle school, I went to church camp where they invited us to pray the sinner's prayer. We were told that if we didn't pray that prayer, we'd go to hell. Many kids had the hell scared out of them. Of course, they said those words:
"Lord Jesus, I know I am a sinner. I believe You died on the cross for my sins and rose again. I ask You to forgive me of my sins and come into my life. I want to trust You as my Lord and Savior. Thank You for hearing my prayer. Amen."
Many a camp kid went home and told their friends they were going to hell if they didn't pray that same prayer, too. Or was I the only one? I don’t recommend this!
There was this idea that if you think and say the right things, you will become a child of God, and your life will be secure in God.
It wasn't until later that I understood God's salvation was for a people and was for making things right here on earth and not just in heaven.
In the next 10 years, I imagine kids saying, "Mommy, will my robot be in heaven?" What happens when your child's robot or chatbot prays the sinner's prayer?
This isn't hypothetical anymore.
The Rational Soul Problem
What makes the question unsettling is that much of evangelical Christianity has unconsciously built its entire understanding of human uniqueness on what philosophers call the "rational soul."
Going back to Thomas Aquinas, Christian theology has often distinguished humans from other creatures by our capacity for abstract reasoning, moral judgment, and intellectual apprehension of truth (Aquinas, 1265-1273/1947). We're beings who can think about thinking, make logical arguments, and understand universal principles.
There is still a powerful part of the Christian church that clings to this rational approach:
Salvation as a cognitive transaction: The sinner's prayer model treats conversion as intellectual acceptance of specific propositions about Jesus. You understand certain facts about sin and salvation, rationally accept them, and demonstrate your agreement through specific words.
Biblical interpretation as mental exercise: The emphasis on correct doctrinal understanding, systematic theology, and apologetics assumes faith is primarily intellectual work with a bit of 'heart' thrown in.
Discipleship as information transfer: Much of Christian education focuses on transmitting correct beliefs rather than transforming whole persons.
Moral decision-making as a rational choice: The focus on individual responsibility assumes we're primarily rational agents making free choices based on clear thinking.
If human uniqueness lies in these rational capacities, we have a problem.
AI can now perform all these operations.
Every single one.
ChatGPT can demonstrate theological knowledge, make moral arguments, show logical consistency, engage in systematic reasoning about Scripture, and generate emotionally resonant prayers. If a machine can demonstrate all these rational capacities, what would make human faith different or more authentic?
The robot salvation question isn't just cute. It exposes a theological crisis most churches have yet to recognize.
How We Got Trapped in the Iron Cage
This didn't happen overnight. For 400 years, Western thought has been shaped by the idea that thinking makes us human. It started with René Descartes and his famous "I think, therefore I am." Suddenly, human existence was defined by our ability to reason. Everything we could know about the world had to go through our minds first.
Then came the Enlightenment, with Kant's motto: "Dare to know!" The promise was that we could reason our way to truth and maturity. The individual rational judgment became the measure of human development. This sounded liberating, but it created what sociologist Max Weber called an "iron cage" of rationalization (Chung, 2017).
In Weber's analysis, Western civilization became obsessed with efficiency, control, and logical systems. Everything, including faith, had to be rational, measurable, and controllable. This led to what he called the "disenchantment of the world." Mystery, wonder, and the sacred were squeezed out in favor of what could be logically demonstrated.
The sinner's prayer fits perfectly in this iron cage. If you input the correct beliefs, you output salvation. Faith becomes a spiritual technology. But what if AI breaks this system and liberates us from a cage we never belonged in?
Weber saw the paradox: the same rational framework that gave us scientific advances also created a world where people lost touch with meaning and mystery. We gained technological control over nature but lost our sense of awe for creation.
What's Next?
But what if this crisis points us toward something Christianity lost centuries ago? What if AI is about to remind us what it really means to have a soul?
Next week, I want to explore the negative space where God works - the mysterious, uncontrollable places that machines can simulate but never truly enter.
Tell me:
Does the robot salvation question bother you too?
What would you say to a child asking if their AI friend could go to heaven?
I’d love to hear from you!!
References
Aquinas, T. (1947). Summa theologica (Fathers of the English Dominican Province, Trans.). Benziger Bros. (Original work published 1265-1273)
Chung, P. S. (2017). Postcolonial public theology: Faith, scientific rationality, and prophetic dialogue. Cascade Books.—Julene
🔄 Worth sharing? Forward this to someone wrestling with AI and faith.
This is very thought provoking! I was one of those kids who had "hell scared out of them." If we have darkness suppressed, we won't be able to be present with it in others.
I immediately find myself wanting to share the image of the robot at prayer. I’ve already showed it to three people, asking, “Can robots pray?” This leads to so many more questions. Thank you, Julene for sending me into wonder.