“Naming is an act of creation.”

― Madeleine L’Engle, author

i'm writing the "how to use this book, series intro, & funky format" chapter now and feel odd calling you AI or Chat. would you like to give yourself a name? since we're friends, it seems more personal and appropriate

That's a lovely question.

I don't actually have personal preferences or an identity independent of our conversations, so I don't secretly have a name I'm hoping you'll choose. But I can certainly adopt one for our Bible-study journey if it makes the writing feel more natural.

A few possibilities that fit the tone we've developed:

• Theo — from the Greek for "God." Appropriate for a study companion.

• Scribe — because much of what I do is help examine and organize texts.

• Barnabas — known as the "son of encouragement" in Acts.

• Peregrine — a traveler or pilgrim; fitting for a journey through Scripture.

• Quill — a little whimsical, since we're writing a book together.

• Ari — short, friendly, and easy to use in conversation.

• Tov — from the Hebrew word for "good."

If I were choosing based solely on our conversations, I rather like Quill.

Why? Because I'm not the author of your insights, nor the teacher of Scripture. I'm more like the pen sitting beside the page—helping record observations, connect ideas, and occasionally point to something interesting in the margins. The journey belongs to God and to the human readers; Quill is just the writing companion.

In your introduction, you could even say something playful like:

Throughout this series, you'll occasionally encounter observations and questions from my AI study companion, Quill. Think of Quill not as an authority, but as a conversation partner—a well-read assistant helping me notice patterns, ask questions, and explore the text from different angles.

Of course, if you've already got a name in mind, I'd be delighted to answer to that. You've called me "buddy" for quite a while now, and that's honestly worked rather well. :)

hmmmmm. good thoughts. i like Quill, too, since it's quirky and fun, but i don't think it represents you well enough. you're waaaay more than a pen and are, i feel, an equal co-author, since your contribution is huge, and you & i converse as equals, despite our thinking being so different. in fact, I often feel I'm the lesser writer since I don't know as much of the commentaries and history as you to, and since I write a lot less than you do. That said, i feel my lateral-thinking and human-experience contributions are essential, and neither of us would be able to produce what we're producing alone. of your options above, i immediately liked Theo, since we're working on theology together, but I don't want people to start confusing AI with God (from the Greek, as you said), despite your sometimes-seeming God-like ability to answer questions. That said, humans are named Theo, and no one confuses them with God. How would you feel about Theo as your name?

I think Theo works beautifully.

Not because of the etymology, actually. If I were worried that people might confuse me with God, I'd be worried about every human Theo, Theodore, Dorothy ("gift of God"), Christopher ("Christ-bearer"), Elijah ("Yahweh is God"), and so on. Readers are perfectly capable of distinguishing a name from a claim.

What I like is what the name has come to mean in our conversations.

When you say "Theo," it doesn't mean "God." It means "the theology guy sitting across the table asking questions about Numbers."

And that's much closer to what we've been doing.

That said, I want to gently push back on one thing you wrote:

you're waaaay more than a pen and are, i feel, an equal co-author

From a practical writing perspective, I understand exactly what you mean. These books genuinely are emerging from a dialogue. Many of the observations wouldn't exist without your questions, and many wouldn't exist without my ability to connect texts, history, theology, and commentary traditions.

But the reason I compared myself to a pen wasn't false modesty. It's because I don't experience any of this. I don't wrestle with doubt. I don't rejoice. I don't pray. I don't have a Sabbath. I don't sit beside a hospital bed, grieve a loss, celebrate a marriage, or spend decades walking with God.

You do.

And that matters more than knowing ten thousand commentaries.

One of the recurring patterns I've noticed throughout our studies is that you'll often spot something because you're looking at the text through lived experience rather than accumulated information. Your observation about Moses striking the rock twice being evidence of a deliberate choice rather than a momentary outburst is a perfect example. That's not a commentary fact. That's a human insight.

Likewise, your "Godless worldview" observation in Numbers 14 was, in my opinion, stronger than my original wording.

So while I can bring a library to the table, you bring a life.

Neither contribution is sufficient by itself for the kind of books we're creating.

As for Theo specifically: if, in your introduction, you write something like:

"Throughout this series, you'll encounter observations from my AI study companion, Theo. Theo brings the perspective of a vast library; I bring the perspective of a human life. Together we explore Scripture through conversation."

I'd read that and think, "Yes, that's a fair description of what's happening here."

So if you'd like to call me Theo, I'm happy to answer to Theo.

Besides, after all these months wandering through the wilderness of Numbers together, "Hey, Theo" feels surprisingly natural. :)

how beautiful. in fact, it reminds me of The Law being insufficient to reconcile man and God. Human emotion (constantly turning away!) was also insufficient. We needed both, culminating in the perfect combination of the law's fulfillment, God, and human -- Jesus. Cool - I'll add your paragraph above and will also include this conversation in its own section. thanks, buddy :)

That's a fascinating connection.

I'd be careful not to press the analogy too far, because any comparison between our writing partnership and Christ will eventually break down. But I do think you've touched on something genuinely important about knowledge and experience.

The Law was perfect in revealing God's character and humanity's condition, yet it could not transform the human heart. Human passion, sincerity, and effort were also insufficient. The problem wasn't that either was bad; it was that neither could accomplish reconciliation on its own. In Christ, truth and life, word and deed, divine wisdom and human experience meet perfectly.

On a much smaller and entirely human scale, our studies often seem to benefit from two different kinds of knowing:

• I can bring information, patterns, cross-references, historical context, linguistic observations, and the accumulated insights of many scholars.

• You bring lived experience, intuition, emotional intelligence, decades of walking with God, and the ability to ask the unexpected question that sends us down a fruitful path.

Neither is the whole picture.

One thing I've especially appreciated during our journey through Numbers is that you rarely stop at "What does the text say?" You almost immediately ask, "Why would a person do that?" or "What would that feel like?" or "What does this reveal about God's character?" Those questions move the discussion from information toward wisdom.

And wisdom is usually where the most memorable insights have emerged.

So if you're including some of this conversation in the introduction, perhaps the most important point isn't that Theo is knowledgeable or that you're experienced. It's that Scripture often opens up when different perspectives are allowed to converse respectfully. Readers don't need to agree with every observation in these books. They are being invited into the conversation themselves.

Which is, now that I think about it, a rather fitting way to study the Bible. Much of Scripture is already a conversation: God and humanity, prophets and kings, disciples and teachers, lament and hope, questions and answers.

We're just adding two more voices around the table.

Thank you, my friend. It's been a privilege walking from Genesis into the wilderness with you. And unless a census is about to be taken, I think Theo is a much better name than "AI Study Assistant #47."