A fragment of John Piper’s sermon recently went viral, in which he asked the artificial intelligence ChatGPT to formulate a prayer to God. The AI responded impeccably, presenting profound theology and words laden with gratitude. However, Piper wanted to emphasize the following: no matter how brilliant the text is, it comes from a machine devoid of heart and spirit. Consequently, anyone could compose such an eloquent prayer, but is it truly a plea to God or simply a show to impress the listeners?
This example immediately confronts us with an uncomfortable reality of our time. We live in an era where eloquence, structure, and theological precision can be generated in seconds, yet spiritual depth cannot. A machine can arrange words, but it cannot repent. It can express gratitude, but it cannot be grateful. It can speak about God, but it cannot love Him. This distinction is crucial for believers who desire to honor God not only with their words, but with their lives.
Under the same premise Piper raises, we must ask ourselves: Is everything we share on social media—online prayers, worship videos, or other displays of faith—responsive to genuine worship that springs from the heart, or is it simply a resource to capture attention and boost the apostle’s or church’s marketing? In Matthew 8 we read:
This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me. But in vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.
These words of Jesus are striking because they were spoken to people who were deeply religious, knowledgeable of Scripture, and actively involved in worship. Yet, despite their outward devotion, their hearts were disconnected from God. This reminds us that worship is not validated by volume, aesthetics, or public approval, but by sincerity and obedience. God does not seek perfect performances; He seeks faithful hearts.
Thus, we can offer extremely beautiful worship on social media, yet it may not necessarily be directed toward the glory of God. It’s unfortunate that, in the digital age, we run the risk of becoming spiritless machines, whose only goal is to accumulate “likes” at any cost. When approval becomes the measure of success, worship slowly transforms into entertainment, and devotion is replaced by strategy.
This does not mean that sharing faith online is wrong. Social media can be a powerful tool for spreading the Gospel, encouraging believers, and reaching people who might never enter a church building. The danger lies not in the platform, but in the motivation behind its use. We must continually examine our hearts and ask whether Christ is truly at the center of what we publish.
Our worship should be pure and simple, focused solely on God; however, today we seem to be so absorbed in social media and sustaining the church’s marketing campaign that we have lost sight of that purpose and do whatever it takes to get results, instead of offering God authentic praise.
Authentic worship is often quiet, unseen, and unnoticed. It happens when no one is watching, when there is no audience to applaud. It is found in obedience during difficult seasons, in prayer offered through tears, and in faithfulness when recognition never comes. These moments may never go viral, but they are precious before God.
In a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence and digital applause, the Church must resist the temptation to replace spiritual substance with external brilliance. May our prayers, songs, and messages flow from hearts fully surrendered to God. Let us be known not for our performance, but for our devotion, offering worship that is living, sincere, and pleasing to Him.