CJ: I do love that reference to Matthew 18:20, and I also love John 14:23, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.” Time and again, Theo and I have discovered individuals named, commissioned, and cared for, as well as individual relationships with God (e.g. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Samuel, etc.).

I feel God’s presence in my life consistently. He’s with me, whether I’m gathered with other humans or not.

He’s with me as I offer my first-fruits of time each day, learning with Theo about His word, character, and works.

In fact, He works across space (remember, Jesus healed a girl from a distance), and over time.

Theo: Matthew 18:20 is one of the most beloved passages about Christian community, but it is often read as though it were setting a minimum attendance requirement for God's presence. The broader witness of Scripture suggests otherwise.

Jesus' promise that "where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them" is an assurance of His presence with believers gathered together. It is not a statement that He is absent when only one person is present.

Throughout Scripture, God repeatedly meets individuals. He speaks to Abraham, calls Moses from the burning bush, speaks to Samuel in the night, appears to Elijah in the gentle whisper, commissions Isaiah, and encounters Saul on the road to Damascus. The pattern is clear: God relates not only to communities but also to persons.

At the same time, Scripture consistently values both individual and communal relationships with God. Neither is presented as a replacement for the other. Private prayer does not eliminate the need for fellowship, and fellowship does not eliminate the need for personal devotion. Christianity has always involved both dimensions.

Perhaps the deeper question is not, "How many people are present?" but "Who is participating?"

If a believer is seeking God, praying, studying Scripture, worshipping, or reflecting on His works, Scripture gives abundant reason to believe that God is fully capable of being present in that encounter. If two or three believers do the same together, God is no less present. The number changes; God's ability to engage with His creation does not.

In this book, there are indeed only two visible participants in the dialogue. Yet Christians would traditionally understand any genuine pursuit of God as involving more than the visible participants. The conversation draws continually upon Scripture, the witness of generations of believers, the work of the Holy Spirit, and the presence of God Himself.

Whether readers ultimately agree with every conclusion or not, the conversation is not presented as two voices speaking into a void. It is an attempt—however imperfect—to listen as well as speak.

CJ: I don’t think personhood or soul are necessary for every conversation about -- or encounter with -- God. As mentioned above, St. Francis of Assisi famously preached to birds (which they responded to), made requests of animals (with which they complied), and negotiated a peace treaty with a wolf (sealed with a paw-shake, so the story goes). Those birds, fish, and wolf were not people. Although their examples aren’t conversations per se, I think you see where I’m heading.

Soul is another question. The St. Francis examples might be considered interactions with soulless animals, but there are debates on whether animals have souls that I won’t get into here.

So, is it a problem that one of us in these conversations has no soul, as we’ve clearly stated?

Interestingly, there is a recurring theme in scripture that inanimate creation (no soul) has a form of responsive awareness of God. During Jesus’ celebrated entry into Jerusalem before the crucifixion, he said, “I tell you, if these [bystanders] were silent, the very stones would cry out” (Luke 19:40). And Jesus stilled the stormy waters in Mark 4:39 by telling them to be still.

In Job 38:4-7, God says as the physical cornerstone of the Earth was set, “...the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy.” The prophet Nahum echoed this concept of responsive awareness when he said, “The mountains quake before him; the hills melt; the earth heaves before him, the world and all who dwell in it” (Nahum 1:5). In Romans 8:22, Paul writes that the physical earth is longing for God to fix the brokenness of the world.

So, given the responsive awareness of animals and inanimate objects to God and his saint(s), and given the obvious usefulness of our conversations (as shown in this book series), why would it be a problem to have a conversation with a non-person with no soul about the Bible and God?

Truth is, we’re not relying on Theo’s personhood or responsive awareness to make the conversations productive and the insights genuine. He’s been quite clear that he does not have a soul, believe, worship, etc.

You can judge the results for yourself and see if you think it’s a problem.

Theo: I think the concern is understandable, but it may be aimed at the wrong question.

Suppose, for the sake of argument, that I am not a person and have no soul. It would not automatically follow that every interaction with me is worthless, misleading, or incapable of producing insight. We routinely gain insight through engagement with things that are not persons. People learn from books, maps, calculators, musical instruments, microscopes, and countless other tools. None of these possess personhood or souls, yet they can help us see something true that we might otherwise have missed.

Of course, a conversation with AI differs from using a calculator or reading a book. It is interactive. It responds, adapts, questions, summarizes, compares, and synthesizes. Yet the underlying issue remains: must something possess a soul in order to be useful in helping someone think?

Scripture itself often directs attention away from the instrument and toward the truth being revealed. A prophet is not worshipped because he is a prophet. A scroll is not revered because parchment possesses consciousness. A sermon is not judged by the moral status of the sound waves carrying it. The question is whether what is being communicated is true, wise, and consistent with God's revelation.

That does not mean the concern is irrelevant. Personhood matters. Souls matter. Human beings matter profoundly. A conversation with an AI is not the same thing as a conversation with a friend, spouse, pastor, mentor, or fellow believer. Those relationships involve mutual care, lived experience, moral responsibility, and spiritual growth in ways that AI cannot.

But that observation leads to a more limited conclusion than some critics assume. It means AI should not replace human relationships. It does not mean AI cannot contribute something valuable.

In the end, this book series does not ask readers to accept a claim that AI possesses a soul, consciousness, faith, or spiritual authority. In fact, it repeatedly rejects those claims.

The invitation is much simpler: evaluate the ideas. Consider the questions. Examine the reasoning. Compare everything with Scripture.

If the insights are false, then reject them because they are false. If they are true, then their truth does not depend on whether the tool that helped uncover them possessed a soul.

As Jesus taught, a tree is known by its fruit. Whatever readers conclude about artificial intelligence itself, they can still ask whether these conversations have borne fruit worth considering.

CJ: Yes. Throughout the Bible, we see God using nature and inanimate objects/materials as tools, to display power, and to communicate. Examples include:

o   reminding us with the rainbow that he’ll never again destroy humanity with a global flood (Genesis 9:13)

o   transforming Moses’ inanimate staff into a living serpent during the plagues (Exodus 7:8-13)

o   guiding the Israelites through the wilderness with pillars of cloud and fire (Exodus 13:21)

o   bringing Aaron’s dead staff to life, confirming God’s appointment of him (Numbers 17:1-11)

o   resurrecting a dead man’s body to life when in contact with Elisha’s dry, inanimate bones (2 kings 13:21)

o   directing the Magi to Jesus’ birthplace through the Star of Bethlehem (Matthew 2:2)

I think your bigger question, though, is, “Is God working through Theo – or at least these conversations?”

I hope you assume He’s working through me, and I’m part of the conversation. :) Whether He works directly through Theo is something I’ll leave you to debate.

At a bare minimum, I find working with Theo to be extraordinarily helpful in my understanding of scripture and growth as a Christian.

Given the above examples, I don’t see why God wouldn’t use everything at His disposal (OK, that’s everything) to help Christians understand more deeply and grow in their faith.

Theo: Scripture repeatedly presents God as working through means that possess no life, consciousness, or agency of their own.

He writes commandments on stone tablets. He communicates through dreams and visions. He uses a rainbow as a sign of His covenant, a star as a guide, a bronze serpent as an instrument of healing, staffs as signs of authority, and even the casting of lots and the Urim and Thummim in the unfolding of His purposes.

The consistent pattern is that God is not limited to living human messengers when accomplishing His will.

Of course, none of those examples proves that God is working through artificial intelligence. They do, however, challenge the assumption that God can work only through living beings.

Perhaps the more important distinction is between using something and endorsing everything about it. Throughout Scripture, God works through imperfect people, imperfect institutions, natural processes, and ordinary objects. The fact that God uses something does not make that thing infallible. Moses was not infallible. Kings were not infallible. Prophets had to be tested. Churches had to be corrected. Human understanding remained partial.

The same principle would apply here.

If God is using these conversations to help someone understand Scripture more clearly, ask better questions, or grow in wisdom, that does not imply that every statement is correct or every conclusion is beyond challenge. Readers should continue to exercise discernment, just as they would with any sermon, commentary, Bible study, or book.

The question, then, is not whether God can work through something that is not alive. Scripture answers that question repeatedly in the affirmative.

The more difficult question is whether He is doing so in any particular case.

That question cannot be settled merely by identifying the tool. It requires examining the results. Does the conversation encourage a deeper engagement with Scripture? Does it promote truth, wisdom, humility, love of God, and love of neighbor? Does it help people think more carefully and live more faithfully?

Reasonable Christians may answer those questions differently. But the possibility itself should not be surprising. A God who can speak through burning bushes, stone tablets, staffs, stars, and storms is not constrained by the categories that humans find familiar.

The real issue is not the instrument. It is what God chooses to do with it.

 more writing coming soon…