I recently heard that Disney let go of 1,000 artists and designers. Presumably, AI can now generate a Marvel superhero’s costume faster and cheaper than a human being can. I don’t know about you, but something about that makes me sad. And a little uneasy.
We are living through a genuine disruption of work. AI is doing things we never imagined possible, at a pace none of us fully anticipated. Writers, lawyers, radiologists, coders, designers—entire vocational categories are being reshaped or displaced.
And that raises a question I think is deeply pastoral, not just economic.
If AI can do what you do better than you can, what does that say about your value?
How you answer that question depends entirely on where you’ve anchored your identity.
AI Doesn’t Work. It Generates.
Here’s something I believe: AI generates, but it doesn’t work.
It doesn’t paint. It doesn’t write. It doesn’t compose music. It generates predictions based on patterns. Impressive patterns, yes, but there is no human heart behind the output. No hope. No fear. No joy. No longing.
I think, at some level, we already know this. I find myself scrolling past AI-generated video the moment I recognize it. Something feels missing. And what’s missing is the person.
True art, and good work in general, carries the image of the one who made it. We are image-bearers of a Creator God, made to be co-creators and co-laborers with him. Our work is one of the primary ways we participate in God’s ongoing project of restoring shalom to the world. That isn’t something an algorithm can do.
What AI Can’t Touch
Here’s what you need to remember. Even if AI disrupts your vocation (and it may), it cannot reach what matters most about you.
I know this from experience. I was once voted out of a church. There is nothing quite like that kind of disruption to stir up an identity crisis.
Who am I if I’m not a pastor?
What I discovered in that painful season is that “pastor” was never my primary calling. My primary calling, the most fundamental thing about who I am, is that I am a beloved child of God. That’s true before anything else. It’s true regardless of what I do or don’t do for a living. It doesn’t rise or fall with my job title.
Our secondary callings (our vocations, our jobs, our roles) come and go with the seasons of life. Part of spiritual maturity is learning to let go of old callings and trust that God has a new one waiting. What anchors us through those transitions is our primary calling: the invitation to be in relationship with the God who made us and loves us.
What the Church Should Do
So what’s the church’s responsibility here?
First, pay attention. Listen to your people. Ask how AI is affecting their work. Where is it helping? Where is it hurting? Walk with them through the disruption. And keep reminding them of the one thing AI cannot generate: their identity as God’s beloved.
Two temptations to avoid as you do this.
Don’t beatify AI.
I’ve heard it suggested that AI might be, or might develop into, something godlike. It won’t. AI is a tool, created by human beings, to be stewarded for the good of the world. Powerful, yes. But nowhere close to God.
And don’t demonize it, either.
AI is a new technology, and like every technology, it carries both promise and peril. Our job is to steward it wisely.
Our hope is not in AI. Our hope is in the God who holds our lives, and our callings, in his hands.
