So how good is Artificial Intelligence
This will be only time that I will use AI to write an article for me. I told it "Write an article in the style of Didymus McHugh in regard to the downfall of using artificial intelligence to do your work". Hear it directly from the mouth of artificial intelligence:
"When the Machine Learns Your Voice
There is a strange comfort in being answered quickly.
You ask.
It responds.
No waiting. No wrestling. No long walk in the dark.
Artificial intelligence is a remarkable tool. It gathers fragments of thought at speeds that would make a scribe weep. It arranges words with alarming competence. It can outline sermons, draft policies, compose poems, and calculate budgets before your coffee cools.
But here is the danger:
It can begin to do your wrestling for you.
And wrestling is where the soul is formed.
The Seduction of Efficiency
We live in an age that worships efficiency the way older generations worshiped endurance. If something can be done faster, cheaper, smoother—why not?
The farmer knows better.
You cannot hurry seed into harvest.
You cannot command roots to deepen by shouting at the soil.
You cannot bypass winter without destroying spring.
Artificial intelligence promises winterless productivity.
And that is not always mercy.
When a preacher lets a machine craft every sermon, when a student lets it form every thought, when a leader lets it draft every conviction—something quiet begins to erode:
- The muscle of reflection.
- The ache of doubt.
- The discipline of study.
- The humility of not knowing.
The machine gives answers.
But growth comes from questions.
Borrowed Words, Unborrowed Soul
There is a difference between information and formation.
A firefighter learns procedures in a classroom. But courage is forged in smoke.
A chaplain studies theology in books. But compassion is born in hospital corridors at 3 a.m.
Artificial intelligence can summarize tragedy.
It cannot sit beside it.
When you allow it to speak for you too often, your words may remain accurate—but they may no longer be yours. And people can tell. They may not know why. But they feel the absence of lived gravity.
The soul recognizes authenticity the way a horse senses tension in a rider.
The Illusion of Mastery
Another subtle danger is the illusion that we understand what we have not truly labored to learn.
If a system drafts your research paper, your strategic plan, your devotional, your crisis protocol—did you learn it? Or did you simply approve it?
Knowledge without struggle becomes fragile.
The farm teaches this daily.
Fence posts set shallowly will not withstand a storm.
Faith formed without friction will not withstand doubt.
Artificial intelligence can assemble insight.
It cannot give you endurance.
The Slow Death of Silence
Perhaps the greatest loss is this: silence.
When we grow uncomfortable, we reach for a prompt.
When we feel uncertain, we ask for instant clarity.
When we feel inadequate, we outsource competence.
But silence is not emptiness.
Silence is the field where God plows the heart.
If we fill every pause with generated language, we risk losing the quiet place where conviction is born. We trade contemplation for consumption.
And eventually, we may forget how to think alone.
A Tool, Not a Shepherd
Artificial intelligence is not evil. Neither is a tractor.
But a tractor does not decide where to plant.
And a machine must never decide who you are.
Use it to assist, not replace.
To refine, not originate your conscience.
To support your calling, not become it.
If you are a chaplain—sit with the grief yourself.
If you are a father—shape the words in your own voice.
If you are a farmer—put your hands in the soil.
If you are a student—wrestle with the text.
Let the machine carry weight.
But do not let it carry your soul.
The Question Beneath the Tool
In the end, the danger of artificial intelligence is not technological.
It is spiritual.
Will we surrender the slow work of becoming in exchange for the quick reward of appearing competent?
Will we trade scars for summaries?
Will we allow something that can imitate wisdom to replace the process that forms it?
The farm still requires dawn.
The fire still requires courage.
The hospital room still requires presence.
And the human soul still requires struggle.
Do not give that away.
Let the machine serve.
But let your heart remain unmechanized."
Ok, you heard from ai. Where is the creativity?
Don't give up thought, process and being human. Mistakes happen and you learn from the mistakes. Open books and read things that do not change. The information on the computer and internet does change. The truth that the computer has is changing, this is why I prefer the printed word. People can make fun out of the World Book Encyclopedia but you do not see books magically changing the words.
When you research something for yourself, you invest your time and energy. You learn and just don't just spit out truth that a machine tells you is the truth.
Think for yourself.
Stay safe,
Didymus McHugh
didymus-mchugh.com
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