Beyond the Algorithm
Exploring How Artificial Intelligence May Be Shortchanging the Transformative Process of Theological Education
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of the institution where the author currently serves. Students should consult their own institution's and professors' policies regarding the use of AI in academic work.
Picture this scenario: A doctoral student sits down at 5 a.m. to begin their daily devotional time before diving into dissertation research. Instead of opening their Bible and spending time in prayer, they open their laptop and ask ChatGPT to generate a personalized prayer based on their schedule, recent communications, and current stress levels. The AI obliges, crafting eloquent words about patience, wisdom, and divine guidance. The student reads the prayer, says "Amen," and moves on to their academic work, where they'll spend the day using AI to generate research questions, summarize sources, and even draft portions of their theological arguments.
This fictional morning routine may sound extreme, but it represents a very real trend I'm observing in theological education: the subtle displacement of formative spiritual and intellectual processes by artificial intelligence. While my past articles have focused on questions of academic integrity and appropriate AI use policies, we may be missing a more fundamental concern—how AI might be undermining the very transformation that theological education is designed to produce.
The Formation Crisis We're Not Discussing
In my four decades of ministry and theological education, I've witnessed numerous technological shifts that promised to revolutionize how we study, teach, and practice ministry. From the massive Strong's Concordance I carried in high school to today's sophisticated Logos libraries, each new tool has made information more accessible and research more efficient. But artificial intelligence represents something qualitatively different—a technology that doesn't just help us access information but can actually perform the cognitive work we've traditionally understood as essential to spiritual and intellectual formation.
The concern isn't primarily about cheating or plagiarism, though those remain important issues. The deeper problem is that many of the processes AI can now automate—wrestling with complex theological concepts, struggling to articulate nuanced arguments, laboring over biblical texts until truth "leaps off the page"—are precisely the activities through which students develop the intellectual and spiritual muscles they'll need for lifelong ministry and scholarship.
Consider the doctoral student working on their dissertation. The ability to engage deeply with primary sources, synthesize complex theological arguments, and articulate original insights isn't just about producing a document that meets academic standards. These activities develop the very capacities that distinguish a mature theological scholar from someone who merely has access to theological information. When we shortcut these formative processes with AI assistance, we may be producing graduates who can navigate theological databases and generate academically acceptable prose but lack the intellectual depth and spiritual sensitivity that effective ministry requires.
The Microwave Mentality in Theological Formation
There's a principle I've observed throughout my ministry career: microwave preparation always produces microwave results. Just as quickly heated meals lack the depth of flavor and nutritional value that comes from slow, careful cooking, the rapid information processing and content generation that AI enables can produce scholarship that appears substantive but lacks the depth that comes from genuine intellectual wrestling.
This isn't merely about the time invested in academic work—it's about the transformative nature of the struggle itself. When a student spends weeks working through Wolfhart Pannenberg's understanding of revelation as history or Jürgen Moltmann's theology of hope, they're not just gathering information for a paper. They're allowing these theological giants to reshape their thinking, challenge their assumptions, and expand their capacity for theological reflection. The laborious process of reading, re-reading, note-taking, and mental wrestling is where transformation happens.
AI can certainly help students locate relevant passages in Pannenberg's Systematic Theology or summarize Moltmann's key arguments. But it cannot replicate the formative experience of sitting with these texts until they begin to speak to the student's heart and mind in ways that will shape their ministry for decades to come. When we use AI to bypass this process, we may be trading the gold of genuine theological formation for the fool's gold of efficient information processing.
The Displacement of Spiritual Discernment
The implications for spiritual formation may be even more concerning than the intellectual ones. Theological education has always been about more than academic achievement—it's about developing the spiritual sensitivity necessary for effective ministry. This includes the ability to discern God's voice, understand the spiritual dynamics of human situations, and communicate divine truth in ways that bring transformation rather than mere information.
These capacities develop through practices that are inherently relational and experiential: extended times in prayer and meditation, careful attention to the Holy Spirit's guidance in studying Scripture, and the patient work of learning to hear God's voice amidst the noise of daily life. When students begin to rely on AI for spiritual insights—asking it to generate prayers, provide biblical interpretations, or offer pastoral counsel—they may be weakening the very spiritual muscles they're called to develop.
The danger isn't that AI is evil or that technology itself is problematic. The concern is displacement—the gradual substitution of algorithmic processes for the relational, experiential work through which spiritual sensitivity develops. A student who consistently turns to AI for quick answers to theological questions may never develop the patience and spiritual depth necessary to wait on God for genuine revelation.
Beyond Information to Transformation
We live in an era of unprecedented access to theological information. Students today can access more biblical commentaries, theological treatises, and pastoral resources than scholars in previous generations could have imagined. AI amplifies this trend exponentially, making it possible to process vast amounts of theological data in minutes rather than months.
But information is not transformation. A student can generate an AI-assisted paper on the doctrine of sanctification that demonstrates familiarity with the major theological positions, cites relevant biblical passages, and engages contemporary scholarly debates—all while remaining essentially unchanged by the material they've processed. True theological education, by contrast, aims at transformation: the development of students who don't just know about God but actually know Him. They can think theologically because they've allowed theological truth to reshape their minds and hearts.
This transformation happens through practices that resist automation: sustained meditation on Scripture, extended times of prayer and reflection, honest wrestling with difficult theological questions, and the vulnerable work of allowing God's truth to confront and change us. These practices require time, patience, and the willingness to sit with uncertainty and complexity rather than rushing toward quick answers and efficient solutions.
The Relational Dimension of Formation
Theological formation is inherently relational—it happens in community, through dialogue, and in the context of mentoring relationships. When students turn to AI for theological guidance, they're choosing a fundamentally different kind of interaction than what occurs in genuine theological dialogue with professors, peers, and mentors.
Human theological conversation involves more than information exchange. It includes the recognition of common humanity, the acknowledgment of shared struggles and limitations, and the mutual vulnerability that allows truth to be received and applied. A professor who has wrestled with doubt, failure, and the complexities of ministry brings a different kind of wisdom to theological conversation than even the most sophisticated AI system.
But there's something else we need to consider—theological formation happens through relationships that extend beyond the classroom. The late-night conversations with fellow students, the informal discussions with professors over coffee, the prayer partnerships and accountability relationships—these are the contexts where theological knowledge becomes lived wisdom. AI cannot replicate the mutual accountability, encouragement, and challenge that characterize genuine Christian community.
When students become comfortable with AI as their primary theological conversation partner, they may be losing more than just the benefits of human interaction. They may be developing a fundamentally individualistic approach to theological work that misses the communal nature of Christian truth and ministry.
Practical Implications for Theological Students
Given these concerns, how should theological students approach AI tools in their academic and spiritual formation? The goal isn't to reject technology entirely but to use it in ways that support rather than replace the formative processes that theological education is designed to facilitate.
First, maintain the primacy of primary sources. While AI can help you locate relevant passages or provide summaries of theological positions, the real work of theological formation happens when you engage directly with Scripture and the great theological texts. Allow yourself to be challenged, confused, and transformed by these encounters rather than relying on AI-generated interpretations.
Second, preserve the struggle. When you encounter difficult theological concepts or complex biblical passages, resist the temptation to immediately turn to AI for quick answers. Sit with the difficulty. Wrestle with the questions. Allow the process of intellectual and spiritual struggle to do its formative work before seeking assistance from any source—human or artificial.
Third, prioritize relational learning. Seek out opportunities for theological dialogue with professors, fellow students, and ministry practitioners. These conversations will challenge you in ways that AI interactions cannot, and they'll help you develop the relational skills essential for effective ministry.
Fourth, maintain spiritual practices that cannot be automated. Develop disciplines of prayer and meditation that depend on your direct relationship with God rather than technology. If you find yourself turning to AI for spiritual guidance, recognize this as a warning sign that you may be avoiding the more challenging work of genuine spiritual formation.
The Deeper Question
Ultimately, the question of AI in theological education isn't just about appropriate use policies or academic integrity standards. It's about what kind of ministers and scholars we're forming and what kind of formation process we believe is necessary for effective Christian leadership.
If we view theological education primarily as the transfer of information—the communication of doctrinal content, biblical knowledge, and practical ministry skills—then AI may represent a powerful tool for making this process more efficient. But if we understand theological education as formation—the transformation of persons through sustained engagement with divine truth in community—then AI's role becomes much more limited and its potential for harm much more significant.
Students preparing for ministry will face challenges that require more than efficient information processing. They'll need the spiritual depth to discern God's voice in complex situations, the intellectual capacity to engage contemporary challenges with wisdom, and the relational skills to facilitate genuine transformation in the lives of those they serve. These capacities develop through practices that resist automation and shortcuts.
As we continue to navigate the integration of AI tools into theological education, we must keep these formative goals at the center of our conversation. As stated earlier, the question isn't just whether AI use constitutes cheating or whether it violates academic integrity policies. The deeper question is whether our use of these tools supports or undermines the transformative work that theological education is called to accomplish.
A Call for Intentional Formation
My challenge to ministerial and theological students is this: approach AI tools with the same discernment you would bring to any other significant decision in your formation journey. Ask whether it supports or hinders your development as a minister and scholar.
Remember that you're not just preparing to pass courses or complete degree requirements. You're preparing for a lifetime of ministry that will require the full range of human capacities—intellectual, spiritual, relational, and emotional. The shortcuts that AI can provide may seem appealing in the short term, but they may ultimately shortchange the very formation process that theological education is designed to provide.
The dawn of artificial intelligence in theological education brings both opportunities and challenges. Let's ensure that in our eagerness to embrace new tools, we don't lose sight of the timeless work of formation that lies at the heart of preparing faithful ministers of the gospel. The algorithm may be impressive, but it cannot replace the irreplaceable work of human transformation that happens when finite beings encounter the infinite God through sustained study, prayer, and community.
In the end, the goal of theological education isn't to produce more efficient processors of theological information. It's to form persons who can faithfully represent Christ in all the complexity and messiness of human life and ministry. That's work that requires the full engagement of human hearts, minds, and souls—work that no algorithm can do for us.