By Robert Maginnis

“You shall have no other gods before Me.” (Exodus 20:3)

Artificial intelligence (AI) is advancing at breathtaking speed. It promises efficiency, insight, creativity, and competitive advantage. It assists with homework, drafts sermons, analyzes data, and answers questions in seconds. Used properly, it can be a helpful tool.

But tools have a way of becoming something more.

In a recent Sunday School presentation titled “When Tools Become Thrones,” I raised a concern that every Christian parent, teacher, and pastor must now confront: When does a tool begin to function like an authority? And when does that authority quietly become an idol?

This is not alarmism. It is biblical realism.

Idolatry in Modern Form

Biblical idolatry is not limited to carved statues. It is misplaced trust and misplaced authority. Romans 1:25 warns of those who “worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator.” Idolatry occurs whenever something created takes the place of God as the final source of truth, guidance, or security.

Artificial intelligence is created by human hands. It is trained on human data. It reflects human assumptions. Yet increasingly, it speaks with a tone of confidence that tempts us to treat it as objective, neutral, even wise.

But AI does not fear God. It does not repent. It does not love. It predicts patterns.

In my 2025 book, “AI for Mankind’s Future,” I explain what AI actually is: a system that processes enormous amounts of data to predict the most statistically likely next word, image, or action. It does not understand righteousness. It does not discern moral truth. It calculates probabilities.

Wisdom, however, begins elsewhere. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). A machine can process information; it cannot revere God.

The Quiet Shift of Authority

The danger is subtle. AI is increasingly used to guide decisions — academic, financial, medical, and even spiritual. Students rely on it to shape arguments. Pastors consult it for sermon outlines. Families use it to answer moral questions.

When Scripture and technology appear to conflict, which voice carries more weight?

When decisions that once required prayer are outsourced to an algorithm, something important changes. Conscience weakens. Responsibility erodes. Moral formation shifts from discipleship to data.

Each of us “will give an account of himself to God” (Romans 14:12). Machines will not stand before the judgment seat. We will.

In “The New AI Cold War,” my forthcoming 2026 book, I describe how artificial intelligence is becoming a central instrument of national power. Nations are racing to control it because AI systems shape economies, militaries, and cultural narratives. This is not merely a technological competition; it is a contest over influence and authority.

If AI can shape geopolitical outcomes, it can certainly shape young minds.

Knowledge without Love

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up” (1 Corinthians 8:1). Artificial intelligence enables the scalable dissemination of knowledge. But it cannot cultivate humility, courage, compassion, or faith.

Our children are growing up in an environment where answers are instantaneous, and friction is removed. Convenience is seductive. But ease can become a snare. Psalm 115:8 warns that those who make idols “become like them.” We are shaped by what we trust.

If children grow accustomed to consulting machines before seeking counsel from parents, pastors, or Scripture, what habits are being formed? If identity questions are posed to algorithms optimized for engagement rather than truth, what worldview is being reinforced?

Artificial intelligence can simulate empathy. It cannot embody sacrificial love.

Moral Outsourcing and Spiritual Deformation

One of the gravest risks is moral outsourcing — the gradual surrender of judgment to automated systems. AI can recommend, score, filter, and rank. But when we allow it to decide what is true, good, or desirable, we begin to exchange discernment for dependency.

Jesus asked a piercing question: “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?” (Mark 8:36).

Efficiency is not free. Every technology shapes us. The question is whether it shapes us toward Christ or away from Him.

Artificial intelligence is not inherently evil. It can help diagnose disease, detect fraud, and streamline burdensome tasks. In “AI for Mankind’s Future,” I outline these benefits. Christians should not fear tools. We should use them wisely.

But we must never enthrone them.

Guardrails for Christian Families

What should parents, teachers, and pastors do?

First, reaffirm that Christ alone is Lord. Hebrews 13:8 reminds us that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” Algorithms change weekly. God does not.

Second, insist that Scripture judges technology, not the other way around. We assess every tool by biblical truth, not cultural enthusiasm (1 Thessalonians 5:21).

Third, keep moral and spiritual formation human. Conversations about identity, calling, sin, repentance, and salvation belong within families and churches, not chat interfaces.

Fourth, teach children how AI works. When they understand that it predicts rather than discerns, its mystique diminishes.

Finally, cultivate godly character. No algorithm can replace a conscience shaped by Scripture and prayer.

The Central Question

The issue is not whether we will use artificial intelligence. We will.

The issue is this: Who has final authority in our homes, our churches, and our hearts?

“You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only shall you serve” (Matthew 4:10).

Artificial intelligence is a powerful tool. But when tools become thrones, they become idols.

And Scripture closes with a sober warning that is as relevant now as ever: “Little children, keep yourselves from idols” (1 John 5:21).

Robert Maginnis is a retired U.S. Army lieutenant colonel, senior fellow for National Security at Family Research Council, and the author of 14 books. His latest, “The New AI Cold War,” releases in April 2026.

This piece originally appeared here.