Artificial-intelligence-powered religious apps are booming. The Bible Chat app has been downloaded more than 30 million times, according to Lauren Jackson of The New York Times, and the Catholic-oriented Hallow was Apple’s most-downloaded app for part of last year. These platforms offer prayers, reflections and even simulated conversations with God at the tap of a screen.

For some, the results are genuinely comforting. The Times story mentions a Detroit woman grieving the violent death of her neighbor who found solace in a psalm generated by a chatbot and a Pennsylvania teacher who asked a chatbot how to prepare herself for her elderly mother’s death. In those vulnerable moments, a verse, a prayer or a word of encouragement can feel like divine intervention.

As someone who works in pastoral ministry in the Archdiocese of San Antonio, I am not surprised by this development. Humanity has always searched for God, and people will use every available tool to reach for him. These apps reflect a deep hunger for meaning, comfort and guidance in an anxious, uncertain age. Yet, as helpful as they may be, they cannot replace the depth of faith, the lived reality of community and the sacramental life of the church.

Scripture reminds us that faith is not a quick transaction but a lifelong journey, often marked by struggle, reflection and accompaniment. St. Paul tells us, “For we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor 5:7) so that we may “be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect” (Rom 12:2). A chatbot can provide an instant reply, but it cannot walk beside us in the desert of life’s trials the way a pastor, a spiritual director or a parish community can.

The church has always found ways to use new technologies, from the printing press to radio and television, and a spiritual app may serve as an entry point for individuals who have never set foot in a church. But technology cannot embody the mystery of faith. Nor can an app provide the warmth of compassion or the accountability of a community of believers. And certainly A.I. can cause genuine harm by spreading misinformation and reinforcing biases, in addition to falling short of genuine compassion.

In his message to the AI for Good Summit held in July, Pope Leo XIV said that “while A.I. can simulate aspects of human reasoning and perform specific tasks with incredible speed and efficiency, it cannot replicate moral discernment or the ability to form genuine relationships.” 

Our Catholic tradition grounds itself not in abstract concepts or digital echoes, but in tangible, visible signs where grace is communicated and community is formed, especially in the sacraments. We hear flowing water poured in baptism, we see bread broken and shared at the Eucharistic table, and we feel hands laid in anointing and blessing. No algorithm, however sophisticated, can offer the embrace of a faith community or the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist.

In my own work, I help plan moments of grace for our archdiocesan community, such as our Jubilee Year celebrations, our annual faith formation conference (intentionally called Assembly), the Corpus Christi Eucharistic procession through downtown San Antonio, and numerous liturgies and trainings. These are not mere programs; they are encounters with Christ. They bring people together to pray and to be sent forth to live their faith. They embody what the Second Vatican Council described in “Lumen Gentium” as Christ’s “holy church, the community of faith, hope, and charity” and “an entity with visible delineation.”

A.I. chatbots may offer a verse in the middle of the night, and sometimes that is exactly what someone needs. But their purpose must be limited: to point people back to the living community of the church, where Christ is encountered most fully in word and sacrament. If they remain doorways into faith, they may serve a purpose. If they become substitutes, they risk offering only an echo when people long for a voice.

As Isaiah reminds us, “You will hear his voice behind you, sounding in your ears and saying, ‘This is the way; continue to follow it’” (Is 30:21). That voice is not artificial. It is real, alive and personal. My hope is that as people explore these new technologies, they will be ultimately led not to a replica of faith but to the fullness of life in Christ and his church.

Charles T. Ramirez works in pastoral ministry for the Archdiocese of San Antonio, where he helps parishes strengthen formation, communication and evangelization. The views expressed here are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Archdiocese of San Antonio.