The Challenge of Submitting Technology to the Divine Mandate
By José Bernardo
The Letter to the Romans, one of the most emblematic writings of the apostle Paul, was not written by him. Tertius, the amanuensis, makes this clear: “I, Tertius, who wrote down this letter, greet you in the Lord,” Rm 16:22 NIV. In other letters — to the Corinthians (1Co 16:21), Galatians (Gl 6:11), Colossians (Cl 4:18), Thessalonians (2Th 3:17) — Paul only writes the final greeting, as if leaving a necessary personal mark. Poor eyesight, haste, or practicality, the reason doesn’t matter: no one doubts that those ideas and words were inspired by the Holy Spirit to him alone. So why would anyone balk at conversational Artificial Intelligence assisting in missiological writing, theological research, or biblical study and teaching?
Some people hand over their entire ministry to AI, I know. They even ask it to pray in their place. Laziness and dishonesty show up in pretentious texts, blatant plagiarism, made-up numbers — but that’s as old as the world, with or without technology. The problem isn’t the tool; it’s the rotten character of those who wield it. Still, I see three objections screaming hysterically, both in Christian mission and in academia. Prejudice: in schools and universities, there are sacred customs and norms of writing, and AI bothers them like calculators once did in math classes. Fear: the dread that students and authors will lean on computers and devalue intellectual work is paralyzing — as seen recently with an Australian scientific journal, full of shallow, error-ridden AI-generated articles. Ignorance: without decent ethics or clear rules for using these tools, we’re stuck in a void where even the silence of the innocent can’t be heard.
I lead a cutting-edge ministry, highly innovative. As an early adopter myself, I’m always hearing questions about whether it’s right to use AI in missions — being in writing, teaching, or even animations and evangelistic videos. This reluctance delays the Church, just as it did with music, theater, radio, cinema, TV, and the Internet. Before we miss the train of history again, I want to show, based on my daily experience, three ways AI can serve ministry and mission. GPT, Grok, Gemini, You, and Meta stare at me from the screen as I write — they’re witnesses that I won’t let this matter drop.
AI as an Assistant in Missiological Writing
I write a lot: articles, essays, books, and plenty of teaching materials. Yet I consider myself a utilitarian writer; I write because, what, and when it’s needed. In this production, conversational AIs have become, from the start, indispensable allies. Usually, I begin with an inductive study of a biblical passage, then define the text’s purpose and audience, create the structure, detailing the content and information for each paragraph, and finally set the word count and add notes on language and style. Then, I use all this as a prompt for the AI and request the text’s draft, which I take back to the editor to review, ensuring the authenticity of each idea and the legitimacy of all information. Next, I request a final grammatical correction, or textual edits without losing authorial nuances, and the text is ready to publish. Occasionally, I use AI to translate into other languages I typically publish in, followed by further review and correction for each one. This way, I ensure AI is truly my assistant, not an intrusive ghostwriter, ensnaring readers in indecisive discourses that fail to reflect faith and truth.
Taming AI’s leveling impulses is a challenge. Its polished, artificially flat language, its lack of personality, has sparked new apps that aim to detect technology’s role in text generation and others that offer to “humanize” it. Some don’t care — mini-coaches flood the internet, claiming they got rich selling chatbot-generated PDFs. But such shamelessness is unacceptable when we’re fulfilling mission Dei, the mission that comes to us from God, when we want to produce lasting fruit, to see lives transformed by the power of God’s Word. In this case, AI must be like Tertius, the amanuensis. Some contribution is admissible, but the result must stem from Lectio Divina — from biblical reading, prayer, meditation, contemplation, and testimony — never from a mishmash of controversial ideas stitched together by some humanist algorithm.
So, from my experience, I recommend using conversational AI without prejudice, fear, or ignorance, as a true assistant for laborious study, biblical piety, and missionary passion. I believe the key in missiological writing is crafting well-thought-out, carefully detailed prompts, firmly grounded in Scripture from a Biblical Theology perspective. Never start writing a text without first telling the AI exactly what it must contain. Don’t accept ideas that aren’t yours, that aren’t rooted in Scripture. Ensure every text you write reflects the truth: the Word of God is the truth.
AI as an Assistant in Theological Production
At 17, in my first months of seminary, I grew frustrated with Systematic Theology and found Biblical Theology. In the months that followed, I learned to study Scripture through the inductive method and devoted myself to it for over forty years. With practice, I developed a methodology of exegesis, hermeneutics, and textual liturgy using biblical thinking tools, which I called VOS (See, Hear, and Feel). Having an objective methodology allowed me to instruct the AIs I use to develop biblical studies. The VOS method is embedded in my customized ChatGPT 4.5, and I always add an instruction file for each new biblical study I conduct with Grok’s help. Still, no AI gives me a study I can use directly, but its work, after my initial reading of the passage, opens a range of useful ideas for the process.
Moreover, in crafting each expression of the biblical text, AIs greatly assist in researching literature, geography, history, biography, anthropology, economics, and theology. Better than commentaries, study Bibles, anthropology manuals, or geographic atlases, it’s possible to make AI avoid editorializing or opinionated remarks, sticking to the biblical text and grounding each piece of information in it. It’s also possible to formulate purely biblical bibliologies and discuss etymological and grammatical issues in the original languages. Since I base each pericope study on an average of 12 objective questions, I can get fairly complete answers for each one. When heresies creep into the research — like those of the Integral Mission with its humanist slant — firm, well-grounded observations are enough to refocus it.
I’ve conducted hundreds of biblical studies with AI assistance, especially from ChatGPT and Grok. In the last three months, we’ve done 24 studies in James, 31 in Proverbs, 14 in Psalms, and we’re working on 58 in the Pastoral Epistles. My experience is that with a logical, well-specified methodology, you can achieve qualified studies, which can later be refined with AI’s help. A solid theological stance will also let you spot any errors that arise, strengthening AI’s learning and setting the stage for improvement.
AI as an Assistant in Ministerial Formation
Last year, we launched the Ergátes School of ministerial formation. It’s a 2,000-hour Biblical Theology course focused on discipleship: 3 months at the mission base and 6 months in the field. This year, we equipped the classroom with computers so our students could use Artificial Intelligence for research and text drafting. Naturally, there are many questions about usage limits, as the young people arrive at our intensive course laden with the prejudices, fears, and ignorance of the educational system. Plus, most churches still haven’t decided if AIs are a blessing or a curse. It’s up to us to guide them toward the best ministerial use of this resource, which will increasingly shape our digital experience.
One piece of advice I’ve given our students comes from Jack Warden’s character to Paul Newman’s in The Verdict: “Never ask a question unless you know the answer to it.” He called it the top rule he taught in law school. Indeed, the character had just sunk the legal case he was working on by asking a question that led the witness to surprise him with a highly damaging remark. If our students ask AI about a topic they don’t grasp, they won’t discern whether the answer is true or false, important or irrelevant, urgent or secondary. This rule, more than the fear of Ctrl C + Ctrl V, sets the boundaries for using computers in theological learning and ministerial formation. Constant access to the student’s thinking, through conversations and topic presentations, is the sufficient assessment.
Like television, calculators, or computers, AI use must be disciplined, not avoided. Students should be involved in self-examining their personal growth — whether technology is helping them learn more and better, or if the way they’re using it diminishes intellectual exercise and development. Ongoing conversation about this will help build norms and ethics for something still in full development and thus needing to be considered within a dynamic scenario.
“So you ought to have entrusted my money to the bankers, so that when I returned, I would receive it back with interest,” Mt 25:27 NIV. This verse brings us two key lessons, expressed in the parable of the talents and throughout the New Testament: God demands results, and the means to achieve them are under our stewardship. I’ve insisted on these principles for many years. Speaking to a church that mistakes evangelism for mere sowing and forgets we’re called to bear lasting fruit, I’ve always reminded them we were sent to reap. This concept of “fructify” must also guide how we evaluate AI use: what matters is whether we and our students are producing the fruit the Lord desires. This teaching in Scriptures guarantees that the quality of the fruits certifies the honesty of the means. It’s impossible for a bad tree to produce good fruit, and vice versa (Mt 7:17-18).
The discussion we should have isn’t whether Artificial Intelligence should be used in mission and ministry. The question is whether we’re producing results pleasing to the Lord and if we can improve them. Artificial intelligences are tools at our disposal; whether we use them or not depends on our stewardship, our service to the Lord. If we know we can bear more fruit with them, we’ll be negligent not to do so. Yet if we use AI to deliver better results for God’s glory, no one can accuse us. The right use of Artificial Intelligence is that which yields the fruit of the Spirit in sanctification and the fruit of repentance in evangelism. It’s by our fruit that we are known.
