“Why does Noah look different in every shot?” That question kept running through my mind while watching the AI-generated music video for “Two by Two”—a rockin’ country worship tune (also AI-generated) about the biblical flood account. And while I was puzzling over Noah’s inconsistent appearance, I also couldn’t help but notice his inability to hit a nail, the weird hunch-backed creatures helping his family in the fields, and even a pair of cute triceratops.
Yes, triceratops.
At first blush, such observations might seem like nitpicking pedantry, especially given the video’s obvious biblical focus and worshipful pose. (I’m still not sure what to do with those dinosaurs, though.) But they get to the heart of why I find this video, and others like it, so troubling. Namely, the sloppiness with which they’re produced, and subsequently, the carelessness with which they’re critiqued and consumed.
Given AI’s ever-increasing encroachment on our lives—regardless of whether we’ve asked for it or not—it’s no surprise that it’s also making significant inroads into Christian evangelism, ministry, and worship. Pray.com’s AI Bible project, which produced the aforementioned “Two by Two” video as well as other AI-generated videos about the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse, the Genesis creation account, the book of Ruth, and the Nephilim (to name just a few topics), aims to use “cutting-edge generative AI to transform timeless biblical stories into immersive, hyper-realistic experiences.” The goal—to “[reimagine] how you connect with the Bible, delivering engaging, visually stunning, and thought-provoking content that resonates with today’s generation”—is ambitious, and on its face, laudatory. What Christian wouldn’t want a “visually stunning” and “thought-provoking” biblical experience?
Should we care that art created with the stated goal of drawing human beings into a deeper connection with God’s Word is not, in fact, created by human minds or hands?
To that end, the AI Bible project has released Music Bible in a Year, Pt. 1, a concept album of AI-generated songs inspired by the first 25 chapters of Genesis that uses “a bold and immersive fusion of country soul, cinematic EDM, hip-hop rhythm, and gospel fire” to create “a spiritual soundtrack for a modern audience.” Four AI-generated videos have been released for the album to date, with more to come.
There’s no denying the AI Bible videos are slick and flashy in that typical AI manner, and if the YouTube comments are any indication, they’re striking a chord with many folks. Consider these sample comments on the “Two by Two” video:
- “Wow just wow. Gives me the chills.”
- “This is amazing. King Jesus works and waste no time these days through His people.”
- “Just So Heartwarming, Brings The Bible Alive.”
- “Creativity aura +10000000000.”
So what’s the problem?
For the moment, let’s set aside the usual criticisms leveled at AI, including its environmental impact, its use of stolen and pirated intellectual property, the threat it poses to our collective understanding of reality, its ability to spin conspiracy theories and inspire delusional thinking, and its deceptive, even psychopathic behavior. Those are all valid concerns, but generative AI like that used to create the AI Bible’s videos also raises questions concerning the nature of human creativity and imagination. In other words, can an image, video, or song created by generative AI really be considered the fruit of human effort, labor, and imagination? And if it’s not, then what is it, exactly, and why should we care?
Scientists, philosophers, programmers, lawyers, and politicians have been battling over the answers to those questions for years now, and the debate shows no signs of resolving any time soon. Such questions might seem like a triviality or worse, Luddite gatekeeping, particularly if you believe AI to be just another tool like Photoshop, Pro Tools, or Premiere (all popular applications used to create images, music, and videos). But whereas those programs require a considerable investment of human time, effort, and intention to learn and use skillfully, generative AI literally requires nothing more than a single sentence to churn out surprisingly—and disturbingly—realistic content. A longer AI-generated video like the one for “Two by Two” might require additional editing to stitch its disparate scenes together into something cohesive. But even that’s nothing compared to the amount of work involved in a purely human-created work, even with the aid of modern software.
This distinction, however subtle it might be, applies to any AI-generated content, but it takes on an additional layer of meaning and concern for Christians. Specifically, should we care that art created with the stated goal of drawing human beings into a deeper connection with God’s Word is not, in fact, created by human minds or hands?
Twenty years ago, even ten years ago, that question might have seemed like the premise of a Black Mirror episode. But it’s a question that John Piper pointedly raised earlier this year when talking about an AI-generated prayer. More recently, O. Alan Noble outlined his own concerns with AI and the potential ramifications it holds for pastors, specifically that it “will make our churches more shiny and polished and corporate, but less human, intimate, and wise.” For example, concerning AI sermon preparation, he writes:
[T]here is a wisdom that comes from researching the Word and great theologians who have studied the Word. Wrestling with verses, organizing ideas on your own, flipping through pages, reading commentaries, praying for the work of the Holy Spirit to guide you—these practices cultivate wisdom in pastors, in anyone. Offloading this work to A.I. short circuits that valuable process. The beautiful unity and expanse of Scripture becomes the purview of a machine, not the pastor.
Noble may be writing about AI within the specific context of pastors and churches, but his broader concern about AI’s dehumanizing effects is equally relevant concerning AI-generated worship music and biblical music videos.
One way this dehumanization might play out is a distinctly utilitarian approach to creativity, artistry, and worship, an approach where essentially anything is permissible so long as it has the potential to spread the Word of God. In other words, Christians are encouraged to accept, praise, and promote sloppy, soulless work simply because it might be useful to the Kingdom. In a recent interview with 404 Media’s Emanuel Maiberg, professor Corrina Laughlin discussed Christians embracing AI videos, even those that contain obviously subpar elements:
Unlike other audiences, like Star Wars fans who passionately rejected an AI-generated proof-of-concept short AI-generated film recently, Laughlin also told me she wasn’t surprised that some Christians commented that they love the low quality AI-generated videos from the AI Bible.
“The metrics for success are totally different,” she said. “This isn’t necessarily about creativity. It’s about spreading the word, and the more you can do that, the kind of acceleration that AI offers, the more you are doing God’s work.”
Or, as one commenter wrote on the AI Bible’s video imagining a Studio Ghibli-directed Bible movie, “To me it’s not about the artist, it’s about getting the message across by any means necessary.”
Such utilitarianism, however, often involves lowering standards and accepting lackluster work for no other reason than because it can potentially convey a particular message. This has often been one of the chief criticisms leveled at modern Christian music and pop culture, which often exchange true creativity and expression for simplistic lyrics and glossy aesthetics that are selected simply because they get the point across. But that’s not art; that’s propaganda.
Which brings me back to those questions I posed at the beginning of this article concerning Noah’s ever-changing appearance and inept carpentry. And yes, those triceratops.
A human filmmaker might actually be concerned with continuity, and thus, ensure that their protagonist maintains a consistent appearance from beginning to end. Or if he was constructing something out of wood, like a giant boat intended to save his family and countless animals, that he could actually hit a nail on its head. But an AI generator cares not about such things (because it doesn’t know what any of those things actually mean), and in their rush to post slick-looking, viral-friendly content on YouTube and social media, it seems that neither does the AI Bible Project.
My social media feeds frequently display examples of AI “filmmaking” that are cited as irrefutable evidence that traditional Hollywood filmmaking is dead. There’s no doubt that AI video is improving in quality at a frightening pace. And yet, for all of their slick, flashy visuals, every single example I’ve ever seen is rife with continuity flaws, visual hallucinations, incoherent editing, and/or inhuman motion that emerge from within the depths of the uncanny valley. (But even if generative AI eventually proves capable of rivaling Kubrick, Kurosawa, Miyazaki, Spielberg, and Tarkovsky, it will still be just an approximation and amalgamation devoid of human agency and creativity.)
Those things, often lumped under the term “slop,” are precisely what human filmmakers and artists seek to avoid because they diminish the work and distract from the message. As those who worship the Great Artist, the one who brought the universe into existence simply by the power of his word and lavishes great beauty on even the most insignificant facets of his creation, Christians should demand nothing less of our own art.
