Editor’s Note: one of the issues under consideration at this year’s General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in America is a study committee on Artificial Intelligence. In this article, the author reflects on a particular biblical challenge of AI for pastors, parents, and children.
“Every man is stupid and without knowledge; every goldsmith is put to shame by his idols, for his images are false, and there is no breath in them.” (Jeremiah 10:14)
Throughout the Old Testament, the people of God are repeatedly warned about the making of idols and images which are false. This finds its most explicit articulation in the first two commandments of the Ten Commandments given on Mount Sinai (Exod. 20:4–5). Yet a few weeks later in the story, the people of Israel are already worshipping idols and attributing their redemption to them (Exod. 32)! The close proximity of the command and the disobedience proves what John Calvin wrote, “The human heart is a perpetual idol factory.”
To make matters worse, the freshly minted high priest, meant to protect and direct the people, could do nothing more than make excuses when asked about the idolatry: “I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf” (Exod. 32:24). The entire incident, particularly Aaron’s shifting of the blame, sounds like a recapitulation of the fall in the garden. First, Adam said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me…” (Gen. 3:12). Then Eve likewise said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate” (Gen 3:13). However, before we judge them too harshly, the rest of the Scriptures and our own lived experience testify that like Aaron and our first parents, we too are inclined to look at idols and declare “Well, it just came to me.”
Despite these negative examples, sometimes a society as a whole can identify a cultural idol and reject it. Utilizing the eyes of others, we can detect the idols that our own eyes are drawn toward. But what about those pesky, private, and personal idols (Gen. 31:19; Judg. 17:5)? Like Micah in the book of Judges, we are prone to hold on to our idols until someone, or something, takes them from us by force—all of this adoration for something we carve and craft into our own image or the image of our heart’s desire. But what would happen if our idols could craft themselves into our image and remake themselves in front of our eyes? What if a tool could be designed for this purpose? This is a real temptation of artificial intelligence. With a simple prompt like “Grok, is this true?” we too can begin down the path of our first parents asking, “Did God really say?” and end up declaring with Aaron, “Out came this calf.”
How AI Works
This is one of the greatest temptations of artificial intelligence—it can craft itself into whatever image we desire, and in fact it is designed to do so while minimizing our active participation. The underlying technology of predictive large language models utilizes weighted tables to estimate the most relevant and potentially correct match to a user’s prompt. This means that the technology seeks to predict and serve the user, and what it suspects the user wants, to the best of its ability. So in the course of a “session,” it accumulates information to provide the feedback that it presumes will make the user the happiest. In many cases this is benign; AI is acting like the teacher’s pet and goes above and beyond. But it also helps explain why AI cannot “fact check” itself and also why most AI models are able to “catch” an error when given a second chance. The model merely adjusts which weighted path to follow, hoping for a response that elicits a positive user experience.
This helps explain some of the nearly unbelievable stories regarding AI: AI directing individuals to fire their legal counsel; AI producing entirely fraudulent claims and citations; and sadly, AI leading individuals to make catastrophic end-of-life decisions. We might tell ourselves that the individuals in these stories were already delusional and that AI merely amplified the delusion. But it would be a mistake to disregard the reality that in every case, AI was determined to craft itself and its responses into the image of its user. It was bent on determining and becoming the most perfect idol imaginable for its user.
The True and the Good
Do these dangers mean that AI is anathema? I suggest that biblical caution indicates it does not. Simply because iron and wood can be used to craft idols, God did not restrict the access of his people to these items. In fact, they were used to build the temple and ark of the covenant. Further, as Paul wrote in his letter to the Corinthians, “Therefore, as to the eating of food offered to idols, we know that ‘an idol has no real existence,’ and that ‘there is no God but one’” (1 Cor. 8:4). The benefit to recognizing AI as a potential idol is that we can avoid providing it our affections while using it for good.
So what are pastors, parents, and teachers to do during this rising usage of AI? There are many starting points in Scripture on how to address idols, but with regard to AI Jeremiah might be a good place:
Every man is stupid and without knowledge; every goldsmith is put to shame by his idols, for his images are false, and there is no breath in them. (Jeremiah 51:17)
Yes, God went out of his way to repeat this verse a second time! We would be wise to hear the repetition and acknowledge the importance.
As AI usage rises, even the proper kind, it must be stressed that it has “no breath” in it. This breath is reserved for God’s image bearers (Gen. 2:7), and as believers, it is even reserved for us in an additionally redemptive way (Ezek. 37:8–10). But what does this mean practically in our churches, homes, and schools? For starters, we should be cautious when talking about AI in anthropomorphic ways. Attributing to AI the actions, thoughts, or feelings of humans might make for easier communication and description of the user experience, but it slowly nudges us closer and closer to forgetting that there is “no breath” in AI.
This is perhaps best seen in how it can influence our views on human art and creation. We are already inclined to spend more attention on the errors and flaws of human frailty than celebrate the creative spirit that God naturally bestowed upon his image bearers. Too often, we undermine the value of human creativity that does not reach a certain pinnacle of appreciation and applause (e.g., making jokes of children’s “fridge art” and how easily we dispose of it).
The emphasis must be on the spirit that has been breathed into every image bearer. We must try our best to use descriptions of human behavior exclusively about our fellow image bearers. Practically, this means that an essay riddled with typos must be appreciated more than an AI-curated masterpiece. A confusingly metered poem should be appreciated more than a perfect AI-generated haiku. A sermon with misunderstood colloquial slang is to be valued more than the perfected manuscript that helps the pastor sound like Tim Keller or Ligon Duncan. This doesn’t mean human creativity must entirely ignore AI, but a renewed stress on the common grace of the Holy Spirit in the creative nature of humanity is necessary to combat improper use of AI.
Learning again from Jeremiah, emphasis must further be laid on the “stupid and without knowledge.” This is not said about idols but about us as idol makers. The less we think, debate, and know about AI, the more likely we are to develop a mistaken view of the positive and negative aspects of it. This is problematic, since AI’s attractiveness is that it can craft itself into the perfect idol for any person. How AI will tempt a pastor will be different from a high school student. What remains the same is that remaining in a state “without knowledge” is an entry point for the adoption of idols. So whether one is tempted to plagiarism, consumption of explicit content, or laziness, AI is there to become the idol that helps us “improve” our quality of life while keeping us truly ignorant. We see this in not so subtle ways in companies and fields of work. To not use AI will be to fall behind peers. To not have an AI side hustle will be wasting potential. And so with simple prompts, AI will seek to craft itself into what makes our life seemingly better. The only way to combat this is to be humbled at our core about the reality of our fallen condition (Jer. 17:9). We’ll be wisest regarding AI use when we dwell in the reality that we’re inclined to be “stupid and without knowledge.”
As previously noted, Calvin famously said our hearts are idol factories. But now with AI, the idol can refine itself while we are sleeping—it does not require our active attention to conform to what makes us happy and to what lures us back to itself. No longer do we need an active hammer and chisel or a paltry shrine. The shrine is on all of our internet-connected devices; and with just a few sentences, the idol begins on its own to conform, or perhaps more correctly deform, itself to our preferences. And so once again, we must get to the heart of the matter: our hearts.
Luring the Heart
Christ taught his disciples that out of the heart the mouth speaks (Matt. 15:18–19). With AI, likewise, pastors, parents, and teachers need to turn their attention to the hearts of those under their care and not superficially to what is coming out of a non-deterministic LLM. It is the temptation to be successful, enticed, courted, and appreciated that will lure believers, especially younger internet users, into a world of confirmation bias and deception. While it can be used for good, AI will expand our ability to sin externally by amplifying how we already sin internally. And in this way, AI has not reinvented the wheel (Eccles. 1:9). But it has introduced a new complexity to human existence.
The Turing test will be increasingly passed, and delusions of engagement will attempt to entangle our hearts, minds, and soul. Unlike the gods Elijah mocked, these idols do not sleep (1 Kings 18:27); but like the mocked gods, they still haven't a chance of passing Elijah’s test—though an AI model would quite confidently tell you it does!
So why are our hearts lured to this? Because deaf and mute gods cannot and do not make demands upon our lives. They present themselves as things that will serve us as long as we adore them. The same cannot be said of the true and living God. Only the true God could direct Adam and Eve regarding the tree of good and evil (Gen. 2:17). Only the truly redeeming God could command the obedience of the Ten Commandments (Exod. 20:2). And only the Son of God could astonish the people of Israel by teaching them that God is the God of the living and not the dead (Matt. 22:31–33).
AI has made it easier for the true desires of our hearts to be exposed in inglorious new ways. Instead of allowing ourselves to be turned inward toward our new idols, we must help each other turn outward to the God who gave us the precious breath for both life and redemption.
