What happened
According to a Christianity Today column by Chris Butler, a pastor in Chicago, a California pastor named Justin Lester has built a digital twin of himself. The column says it was trained on nearly 2 million words from his sermons, books, and other messages It reportedly offers counsel at all hours to hundreds of people in Vallejo.
Butler cites a New York Times report, which he says describes the AI speaking in the pastor's cadence. He says it has comforted a woman before heart surgery, advised someone despairing over a lost job, and written a letter for a homesick child at camp.
The column also mentions Bible Chat, an app that lets users confess sins to a chatbot and ask for help interpreting Scripture. It says the app has been downloaded more than 30 million times.
Butler does not rehearse the usual objections about whether a chatbot can pray or know you. He argues that these tools worsen an existing Protestant weakness around spiritual authority. He points to Hebrews 13:17, where leaders keep watch over souls and will give an account. He says an AI clone cannot do that.
These details come from the column and have not been independently checked. We have not reviewed the original New York Times report.
Why it matters
Most of us understand why a tool like these appeals. Pastors are stretched thin. People hurt at two in the morning. Lester, by the column's account, wanted to reach more people than one man can. That is a caring motive, and we should say so.
But the column raises a fair question: what is a pastor actually for? A pastor is more than a supply of wise words. He is a person who answers to God for the flock, and a program has nothing at stake and answers to no one.
There is also a quieter pull. Telling your troubles to a bot means no raised eyebrow and no awkward Sunday morning. Butler suggests that some people want a pastor who cannot see them. That is a human temptation, not just a tech problem.
A Christian response
First, let's be honest about bad authority. Many believers have been hurt by leaders who manipulated or covered up wrongdoing. The column says so plainly, and so should we. But the answer to a bad shepherd is not no shepherd. Scripture points us toward accountable, humble leadership, like Jesus kneeling with a towel.
Second, think about who we are. Genesis 1:26–28 says God made human beings in his image and gave them responsibility in his world. In John 1:14, the eternal Son became flesh. He did not become a more efficient machine. How far those texts speak to AI is our application, not the text itself. Still, they ground human dignity in God's gift, not in speed or output. A machine that works faster has not gained a calling.
Third, remember the mission. In Matthew 28:18–20, Jesus sends his people to make disciples. That means teaching, walking alongside, and showing the grace of Christ in a life. AI can produce words about love. It cannot love the person who reads them.
Christians differ on how church authority is arranged, whether through ordination, denominational structure, or local elders. Butler himself notes that methods have varied. We also differ on how much to use AI in ministry. Many would happily use it for scheduling, translation, or study, and the editor agrees that tools can help. The concern is substitution, not assistance.
None of this is a reason for fear. Christ's work is finished, and the church does not stand or fall on software. Galatians 6:2 and James 5:16 still describe ordinary life together: bearing burdens, confessing, praying for one another. That is simply how the family of God works. A chatbot may point you toward that life, but it must not replace it.
Questions to consider
- Who in my local church actually knows me well enough to notice if I am struggling, and have I let them?
- Where am I tempted to choose comfort without accountability, whether through an app or by quietly drifting from church?
- If my pastor used AI to help with ministry, what would I want him to keep doing personally?