AI is coming for us all. For our jobs, our schools, our relationships — even our prayers. Nothing is safe from its reach, not even the Bible.
What was once the bedrock of faith is now being mined for content, carved up by algorithms, and served back as digital slop.
This is much more than bad taste. It’s bad theology.
Behind this push is Pray.com, an app that sells itself as the digital home for faith. One of its newest creations is the “AI Bible,” a controversial project that promises to bring scripture to life with computer-generated imagery.
‘AI Bible’
In the app’s hands, the Red Sea parts like a movie trailer. Revelation’s beasts look like they’ve stepped off a comic-book page. Christ’s words are framed with cinematic flair meant to hold the eye but not the soul. To those hard of sight and lacking neural firepower, it may look like innovation. But in truth, it turns the Bible into content. One more product in the stream of things we swipe past and instantly forget. What was once revelation becomes just another reel.
Think of the AI Bible like a pear. Whole, raw, pristine, this piece of fruit is truly glorious. It’s nutritious, natural, sustaining, a gift from above. Now, imagine squeezing that pear into juice, then pumping it full of preservatives, chemicals, and sugar. Ostensibly the same fruit, but, in reality, a syrupy poison. That’s what happens when you take scripture — alive with mystery and insight — and feed it into a godless black box.
This isn’t sanctimonious pearl-clutching or fear of progress. It’s a sober warning about what happens when the sacred is ground down into pulp and poured back as pop culture.
We’ve seen it before. Christmas, once holy, became little more than an extensive shopping spree. The cross, once a symbol of sacrifice, became little more than a cute piece of jewelry. Each time, the revered was reduced to something retailed, commodified, and corrupted.
What we lose
What’s lost is the humanity that gives these stories their weight.
Abraham’s anguish as he raised the knife. David’s trembling faith as he faced giants. Peter’s shame when the rooster crowed and he realized what he had done. These moments are not mere side notes but the marrow of the faith itself.
When AI turns every prophet into a caped crusader and every psalm into a stadium anthem, we have a serious problem. The fragile, flawed, human vessels through which God works are erased. You don’t see a fisherman break down in tears after denying Christ; you see a subplot for the next Netflix series. You don’t hear the gentle whisper that steadies the brokenhearted; you hear the booming roar of an action trailer, half expecting Tom Cruise to drop in from a helicopter.
Audiences don’t file these images in their hearts. They file them next to Marvel, Fortnite, anime, and whatever else the algorithm feeds them.
And once that switch is made, where does it end? Today it’s Psalms in IMAX; tomorrow it’s Paul’s letters as TikTok skits; then the beatitudes on Broadway.
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The AI Bible invites consumption — not reflection. It trains people to treat sacred text like a season of television. Genesis turns into a pilot episode and Revelation becomes a cliff-hanger. But wisdom isn’t designed for marathons. Wisdom and understanding require pause, not playlists. Faith is not built for autoplay, and the soul can’t be nourished on fast-forward.
This is much more than bad taste. It’s bad theology. Passages that demand contemplation — the Nephilim, the visions of John — get twisted into definitive depictions that erase centuries of debate.
The real danger
The result is religious entertainment. The word becomes just another franchise to be monetized, its characters reduced to archetypes, its stories to HD clashes between good and evil. But the gospel deserves reverence — not a reboot.
Christians are not called to resist technology. But the line is clear: The printing press spread the gospel. Radio and TV amplified it. AI, in this case, distorts it. The motivation behind the “AI Bible” program may be noble, but noble intentions don’t sanctify rotten results.
And that is where it crosses into blasphemy. Not because it uses new tools, but because it erases the truth those tools are meant to carry. Scripture is testimony, commandment, and covenant — not special effects. To recast it as entertainment is to drain it of authority and credibility.
The danger is not that people will reject the Bible outright, but that they will absorb a counterfeit version and never know the difference.
The post The ‘AI Bible’ is here — but something important is missing appeared first on TheBlaze.
