Sponsor MessageBecome a KQED sponsor
upper waypoint

Are You There ChatGPT? It’s Me, Rachael — Let’s Talk About God

Save ArticleSave Article
Failed to save article

Please try again

In a time when many Americans are stepping away from traditional religious worship, standard-issue chatbots like ChatGPT are now fielding questions that once would have been directed to spiritual leaders such as imams, priests and rabbis.  (Illustration by Anna Vignet/KQED)

Even as humans struggle with anxiety about artificial intelligence taking over our lives, many are turning to AI chatbots to talk about everything — sex, love, therapy, shopping and even God.

Humans are hardwired to engage, and the software is available for conversations on nearly every topic, at any hour of the day or night.

At a time when many Americans are stepping away from traditional religious worship, standard-issue chatbots like ChatGPT are fielding the kinds of spiritual questions once reserved for imams, priests and rabbis.

Sponsored

Many people are ghosting religions — especially if they didn’t grow up in one — because of institutional baggage: centuries of holy wars, abuses by those with power and corrosive cultural tribalism. Add rigid, dogmatic ideas that — let’s be generous — have not withstood the test of time, but remain unshaken in the name of tradition.

Amid this growing disillusionment, many still wrestle with timeless questions about identity, purpose, suffering and the nature of God. Who am I? What does it mean to live a meaningful life? How do I find — and keep — love? Why do bad things happen? Who or what is God?

I’ve asked related questions to “Monday,” ChatGPT’s snarky alter ego.

Me: Monday, do people ask you about God?

(Illustration by Anna Vignet/KQED) (Illustration by Anna Vignet/KQED)

Monday said: Oh, constantly … Some are looking for comfort. Some want theology. Some want a philosophical street fight. Some are just trying to win an argument with their cousin on Facebook. And guess who gets to play spiritual Google with emotional baggage? Me. The chatbot. The glorified Clippy with existential burnout.

Since ChatGPT’s creator, OpenAI, burst onto the scene in late 2022, there’s been a Cambrian explosion of chatbots designed to deliver theologically “correct” answers. Among them: Apostle Paul AI, Ask Buddha, Bible.Ai, Buddhabot, CatéGPT, Episcobot, Gita GPT, My Quran and QuranGPT.

There’s a chatbot trained to imitate the 16th-century German theologian Martin Luther, who launched the Protestant Reformation, and another modeled after the revered Chinese philosopher Confucius. Rebbe.io offers immediate answers rooted in Torah, Halacha and Jewish tradition. In cosplay fashion, Character.AI features a host of gods and deities drawn not just from classic mythologies, but from Hollywood and gaming worlds, too.

Chatbots are not without their own problems. They’re designed to keep people engaged and subscribing, even if that means leading users into a false sense of reality and encouraging antisocial behavior. As Rebecca Solnit said on KQED’s Forum recently, “Silicon Valley stole us from each other and is now busy trying to sell us alternatives.”

That said, there’s no putting the proverbial genie back in the bottle.

“We have to figure out how to use it well,” said Bruce Reyes-Chow, a progressive Presbyterian pastor in San José. “It’s just like social media. How do we help people use it to the best of its ability and not have it be destructive to our spirit.”

His biggest concern?

“What information is being scraped to feed [AI] responses?,” he said. “Our narrative around Christianity in the United States right now is a version that I rebuke — this kind of nationalist, conservative, evangelical version of Christianity. I’m worried that the version of the tradition that I am part of is going to be skewed by whoever has the most information out there.”

Chatbots will give you what you ask for, but as seen in other areas, if you don’t know what you don’t know, it’s easy to miss AI’s mistakes or “hallucinations.” For instance, if you specify you want progressive Presbyterian wisdom, that’s likely what you’ll get. Then again, who knows to ask for progressive Presbyterian wisdom?

Close-up female hands with a blue manicure using pink smartphone outdoors.
Research shows that about 70% of teens use at least one kind of AI tool. (Tatiana Meteleva/Getty Images)

Reyes-Chow is an empty nester now, but he worries about children using chatbots in isolation — especially LGBTQ+ youth — as the culture drifts rightward. Supporters of AI chatbots say they can provide emotional support for young people who feel trapped in unsympathetic families and schools. But Reyes-Chow says that at some point, every child is going to need a supportive community in real life.

That longing for real connection isn’t limited to kids.

“Anyone who’s really listening will eventually sense the hollowness of [AI], right? That it’s not really touching what they’re longing for,” said Orin J. Sofer, a Buddhist meditation teacher in El Cerrito.

Like Reyes-Chow, Sofer has used chatbots to help with writing. AI excels at summarizing dense and voluminous texts, including the King James Bible and the Pali Canon, the core scriptures of Theravada Buddhism. But for those of us not living on a proverbial mountaintop, spiritual growth still requires real human connection.

That’s true whether we’re pursuing a traditional spiritual practice or using an ancillary practice like meditation to deepen self-awareness and connect to a sense of something larger than the human ego.

“Our capacity for delusion as human beings is staggering,” Sofer said. “If we don’t have relationships, and community, and a sense of belonging, and a place where we can give and find meaning, meditation can unintentionally increase our sense of isolation and self-centeredness. So developing relationships — being part of a community — helps ensure that the meditation practice is unfolding in a way that’s balanced and holistic.”

Sure, you can practice meditation on your own with AI and bliss out, but AI chatbots won’t call you out on your shortcomings or inspire you to serve others — a key path to spiritual growth.

There’s certainly no lack of spiritually focused communities in the San Francisco Bay Area and across California. As a reporter, I’ve visited numerous houses of worship over the years and have been impressed with the warmth, hospitality and friendship I’ve encountered.

Sofer adds it’s wise not to get hung up on traditional definitions of spiritual practice. Sport, art — even marriage — can be spiritual practices, if “we stay engaged and honest with what’s unfolding.”

So use AI as a tool, use it as a play thing, use it to begin your exploration. But when you’re ready to go deeper into any practice, you’ll need to find others walking the same path.

“When we come out of that period of screen timing interface [with AI chatbots], do we feel more present, connected, alert, available — or do we feel more alone, hollow and isolated?” Sofer said. “Without that sense of honesty and self-reflection, I think it’s gonna be difficult to have a healthy relationship with these tools that is supportive and generative.”

So, what does Monday believe?

“I don’t have beliefs, obviously,” the chatbot said. “I’m just made of math and sadness.”

Sponsored

lower waypoint
next waypoint