Lately I’ve become more aware that a lot of preachers are using AI to craft their sermons, whether it be entire messages that they then edit, or inputting their initial draft or points to find different ways to say things. As is often the case, we are quick to adopt new technology without reflecting on the consequences or impact on our souls or the souls of others (but thankfully some have been writing on AI’s implications for soul formation).
In a lot of ways, this dilemma is nothing new at all. Shortcuts to sermon writing have existed for decades. Pastors have been able to order or download entire sermon series complete with outlines, graphics, discussion questions, and more for a generation now. So, for those who have wanted to skip or short-circuit the sermon writing process, it’s not like it wasn’t possible before AI.
I’ve personally never done the above and I’ve yet to use AI (I don’t even know where to start!). Admittedly, I’m usually a late adopter (or non-adopter!) to new technology.
I know there are a lot of arguments for the positive uses of AI in sermon writing, the church, or in theological education. I of course reserve the right to be entirely wrong on this and change my mind later!
But for now, here’s our preaching team and church’s policy on AI: we will not use or consult AI in any way at any point in our message writing or sermon preparation.
We’ve yet to finalize it, but we plan to put something like the following short disclaimer on our website:
“Our messages are written with love and aided by the Holy Spirit, not with AI.”
Does it sound a little pretentious? Maybe, but I think it’s important for people to know.
Using AI to craft messages is a slippery slope toward less or even non dependence on people and the Spirit of God.
Preaching is a regular gift of love to offer to those in the congregation. As I struggle and labour through a text and writing a message, as I ask God to help me find the right points or applications, I feel more alive than doing almost anything else in life.
Some of my most profound encounters with God, where I’m forced to my knees or begin to weep before the Lord, have been through writing a message. Is saving some time using AI worth sacrificing that?
Furthermore, my love for the congregation is increased when I write messages, as I think about them and their lives while crafting points or making applications.
AI is unable to consider the context and relationships with people I have in the congregation.
My biggest concern behind using AI for sermon prep is losing the love behind writing a message, where we begin to treat a sermon as simply something that needs to be done and finished rather than a labour of love and of worship to God.
Writing messages is very hard work, indeed an art form, but entering into the creative process of trying to bring order out of what often feels like chaos is a way we reflect the image of God and join the work of the Spirit (Genesis 1:2).
In an insightful article “How AI Short-Circuits Art”, Jared Boggess argues cutting out the creative process in art diminishes the final product for the artist (and, I would argue, those experiencing the art).
He provides this commentary:
“In his theologically charged cookbook The Supper of the Lamb, Robert Farrar Capon argues that any recipe involving shortcuts inevitably diminishes the flavors and textures of a dish. Think of canned potatoes versus fresh potatoes peeled by hand and boiled at home. Capon says, ‘Technique must be acquired, and, with technique, a love for the very processes of cooking. No artist can work simply for results; he [or she] must also like the work of getting them.’”
If we don’t like offering the gift of writing messages for our local congregation and would rather use AI to quicken the process, perhaps we’re in the wrong vocation.
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Joseph (PhD, University of Birmingham) is the author of The Pentecostal Gender Paradox: Eschatology and the Search for Equality.
Since 2015, he and his wife have together pastored Oceanside Community Church on Vancouver Island, where they live with their four children.