The other day, as the submission date for this column loomed, I opened up the Artificial Intelligence app ChatGPT and asked: “What would readers of a newspaper in Franklin County, Massachusetts want to read in a Faith column written by a Christian clergyperson?”

In less than a second, it responded with this: “For a faith column written by Christian clergy in Franklin County, Massachusetts — a region known for its mix of small towns, progressive values, strong community orientation, and deep historical roots — readers are likely to be interested in topics that feel both personally relevant and socially conscious. Here are a few topic suggestions that would resonate well in that context.”

It then proceeded to offer topics ranging from “Faith and Mental Health” to “Christian Hospitality in a Divided Time” to “Creation Care and Local Stewardship.” At the end of the summaries, it asked me if I’d like help developing a draft. I responded “yes,” not because I intended to use it, but to see what it could actually do. Within seconds, a perfectly written column appeared with accurate information, a compelling headline, and even a sense of humor.

“Do we even need clergy anymore?” I scoffed to myself. Sitting in this sudden existential crisis, I found it ironic that one of the suggested topics was not “The Church’s Role in the Age of AI.”

It is quite amazing how advanced this new technology is — it’s certainly something beyond my intelligence level. I can only imagine the way that it will accelerate progress in many fields in the years to come. But I can also imagine the incredible challenges that we face because of it. As AI has already started to replace the jobs of many in our workforce, how will our economy and policies adapt? How do we navigate the ethics of when and when not to use AI?

How do we reckon with the absurd demands on energy and water that AI data centers require and with their effects on the environment? And maybe most dear to my heart is the question of how we continue to bring meaning to the unique gifts and sacred worth of every person as the world becomes mesmerized by this flashy, fast-paced, on-demand service. I felt it myself, right? This column that took hours of my time and energy could easily be replaced with AI in merely a second.

But later that day, something clicked after talking with one of my parishioners on the phone. I had given her a call after not seeing her for a bit and when she answered the phone, she told me she hadn’t been well and had been thinking of reaching out to me, but knew that I was busy. We continued to talk on the phone for quite some time and by the end of the call, we were both laughing. As I hung up, I thought to myself, “Now that’s something AI can’t replace.”

Nothing can replace the love, care, and presence that we offer each other. And it got me to thinking that maybe, as cliché as it might sound, that is exactly the role the church needs to live into right now. The church needs to be willing to be a beacon of love, willing to enter into the vulnerability of what it means to be human, and be willing to journey alongside each other as we navigate the messiness of these unprecedented times.

As I thought about what I could write in a column about AI, I knew that I could list out all of the pros and cons and make a theological case for or against it. Or, I could do something that AI couldn’t do: make myself vulnerable and be honest about how it makes me feel uneasy and uncertain. Maybe AI could generate a well-crafted, concise answer for you, but I’ll be honest: I’m going to need a lot more time to process that. But what I can do is walk alongside you as we navigate this new world together. And when this world makes you think you are forgotten, replaceable, or worthless, I’ll remind you that you are made in the image of God and you are beloved. Lucky for us, there’s nothing artificial about God’s love.

Benjiman Durfee is a UMC pastor serving Trinity Church, Shelburne Falls, an open and affirming, ecumenical church affiliated with four denominations: American Baptist, Episcopal, United Church of Christ, and United Methodist. Services are held at 10 a.m. on Sunday mornings and nursery care is available. Visit Trinity Church at 17 Severance St., Shelburne Falls, or online at www.trinityshelburnefalls.org.