An Experiment

Introduction

I am sure I am not the only one here who has been hearing, almost daily, new and different news about Artificial Intelligence (AI).

And I am probably not the only one here who is concerned about both the speed at which it is changing, and the sudden pervasiveness of AI into our ever-changing world.
​
AI is not just something happening online – it has become a part of life in many other ways as well.
 
I have not dabbled in AI much myself – I have not succumbed to using ChatGPT, for example.
 
But, I do know that some of my pastoral colleagues have begun using it to aid in writing their sermons.
 
I was at dinner with two of my friends and I mentioned that I was invited to write an article for the Canada Lutheran monthly newsletter.
 
My friends suggested I start by putting the prompt into ChatGPT and seeing what it said, and then editing it from there.
 
That made me uneasy.
 
I asked how they felt knowing that so many things could so easily be written using AI, up to and including full length novels.
 
Neither of them seemed to be bothered by that. One friend said that when you go to publish something, you have to state to what extent you used AI.
 
This concerns me, and I’m not sure if I am just resistant, or if I have good reasons to be concerned.
 
I feel like my reasons are pretty good. The primary reason it concerns me is because it gives me a bad gut feeling.
 
I could make all kinds of logical arguments based on articles I’ve read and studies that have been done thus far, but at the end of the day, my gut just tells me I should feel uneasy about this new technology.
 
This isn’t even something I can really wonder what Jesus would have thought about it, because he could not have even conceptualized what we are talking about.
 
How could we possibly know how Jesus might feel about the pervasiveness of AI?
 
I suspect that we will, very soon (and I’m sure it’s happening already), be having deep conversations on a global level about the ethics, safety, and potential damage that AI could cause.
 
My inclination thus far has been to mostly ignore its existence. Yes, I’ve used the AI feature that Google now has when I look something up online.
 
But, I have not used AI to create anything yet.
 
As we move forward with this technology, however, I feel like I need to stop ignoring it and at least start educating myself a bit on it.
 
So today, I thought we would try an experiment.
 
I have composed two short sermons.
 
One of them I wrote myself as I usually do. And the other one, I used ChatGPT.
 
Here is the deal though.
 
On the one I wrote myself, I did my best to write as I usually do. However, I left out any personal stories that would easily clue you in that I wrote it.
 
On the one I asked ChatGPT to write, I made NO changes. I am preaching it exactly as it was written.
 
Your task is to determine which sermon I wrote, and which one AI wrote.
 
There are feedback forms and pens in the baskets at the end of each row.
 
After the service is over, please note on a piece of paper which sermon you think I wrote, and which sermon you think ChatGPT wrote. You may also wish to offer feedback about the sermons or a reason why you think I wrote one or didn’t write one.
 
Next week, I will not be here. David Jones will be preaching in my place.
 
But the following week, I would like to follow up on this week’s experiment. So, bear with me as we hear two short sermons, one on each of the readings for today.
 
Message #1 on Hebrews 13: 1-8, 15-16
 
“Keep being concerned about each other.”
 
That’s how Hebrews 13 starts out. Everything after that line is essentially a set of reminders about what that might mean.
 
First, the passage reminds us to welcome strangers into our home.
 
Interestingly though, the reason is not out of charity, pity, or even motivation to get into heaven.
 
The reason is even simpler than that. By welcoming strangers into your home, you may end up meeting an angel, without even knowing it.
 
In other words, by offering the stranger a gift, you may end up receiving a gift yourself in that other person.
 
There are many times in our lives when we meet someone who unexpectedly changes our life, even if that chance encounter is very brief.
 
I am sure many of you could think of examples of people who have impacted your own life in this way.
 
The second reminder offered in Hebrews 13 is to “remember the Lord’s people who are in jail and be concerned for them.”
 
In fact, “imagine you are there with them.”
 
Rather than pitying them, judging them, or blaming them, be in solidarity with them. Take on the suffering of others as your own.
 
This reminder goes beyond the hospitality of welcoming the stranger. It is, indeed, the most radical kind of sharing and hospitality.
 
Another reminder from this passage is arguably the most important.
 
“Don’t fall in love with money. Be satisfied with what you have.”
 
It seems the more money we have, the harder we work to protect it.
 
Instead of inviting the stranger into our home, we may decline because we are concerned that they might steal from us, for example.
 
Instead of being concerned for others, we may become more concerned for ourselves and the things we have.
 
And of course, the more money we have, the more we seem to want.
 
It’s no longer hoping to have enough to get by, survive, or even thrive. It becomes a question of accumulating more.
 
And it’s not just money. It’s more often the things money can buy.
 
This becomes harder to avoid in our current world.
 
In the world of Jesus, many people had very little money. Life looked quite different.
 
But today, our society is set up such that we are not only encouraged but we are almost forced to accumulate more money and more wealth.
 
We are told in many ways that we must have money to be something in this world. And we believe it.
 
But Hebrews goes on to remind us that “Jesus Christ never changes! He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”
 
So even in a changing and evolving world where money and power are “king,” Jesus remains steady, constant, reliable, and available to us.
 
The sacrifice we must make is to “keep offering gratitude and praise to God in the name of Jesus.” Help others and share your possessions with them, but don’t forget the role of Jesus in our lives.
 
Jesus never changes.
 
Whether we are welcoming a stranger, in jail ourselves, or in solidarity with those who are, Jesus remains constant.
 
Whether we have fallen in love with money or we are satisfied with what we have, Jesus remains constant.
 
Jesus is available to us and loves us day in and day out, forever.
 
So, are we ready to make the sacrifice?
 
Are we ready to keep offering praise to God in the name of Jesus?
 
Perhaps more importantly, are we ready to help others and share our possessions with them, or does that still make us a little uncomfortable?
 
These are the questions this passage is asking us to reflect on.
 
As we leave today, may we consider these questions and wonder together if we are ready to do what is being asked of us.
 
And in doing so, we are called to remember that Jesus is right there with us. Jesus never changes, even as we do. Amen.
 
And, our second sermon today will be on our second reading from Luke 14. Let’s begin:
 
Message #2 on Luke 14: 1, 7-14
 
There’s a powerful lesson in our passage from Luke 14 that speaks not only about the heart of God but also about how we are to live our lives—about humility, hospitality, and grace.
 
Let’s dive in.
 
In Luke 14, we find Jesus at a banquet. But this wasn’t just any ordinary dinner.
 
Jesus had been invited to the house of a Pharisee. 
 
Now, banquets in those days weren’t like the casual gatherings we’re used to. They were social events—chances for people to show off their status and influence.
 
They were often attended by those with wealth and power, and the seating arrangements?
 
Oh, those were carefully arranged. Everyone had a place that spoke to their rank in society.
 
In verse 7, Jesus observes something about the guests: “When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable...”
 
You see, these people were all vying for the best seat in the house. And it’s not hard to understand why.
 
In their culture, the seat closest to the host was the seat of honor. It meant you were valued, respected, and probably on the winning side of life. It was a sign that you mattered.
 
But Jesus, ever the teacher, used this moment to flip the whole idea on its head.
 
He tells them, “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited.”
 
I can just imagine the guests sitting there, a bit uncomfortable.
 
Jesus was talking about something deep—something more than table manners.
 
He was challenging their pride and their preoccupation with status.
 
Now, let’s pause for a moment and think about our own lives. We live in a world where we are constantly told that status matters.
 
Who are you connected to? How much do you have? How high can you climb the social ladder? 
 
These are the questions we’re faced with every day, whether we’re conscious of it or not.
 
But Jesus doesn’t stop at pointing out the issue.
 
He offers a radical solution: “But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’”
 
Now, this isn’t about false humility or pretending to be less than we are. It’s about understanding that in the kingdom of God, things don’t work the way they do in the world.
 
In God’s kingdom, honor doesn’t come from our achievements or our status—it comes from humility.
 
And here’s the kicker: “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
 
Jesus is telling us that the true way up is the way down.
 
If we want to be great in God’s eyes, we have to be willing to serve, to love, and to put others before ourselves.
 
Now, let’s talk about hospitality for a moment because Jesus doesn’t stop with the guests.
 
In verses 12-14, he turns to the host and says, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.”
 
This is an invitation to radically rethink who we welcome into our lives and our homes.
 
It’s so easy to love those who love us, right? It’s easy to be kind to those who can return the favor. 
 
But Jesus challenges us to go further—invite those who can’t repay us, those who are marginalized or forgotten. The ones who need grace the most.
 
It’s like Jesus is saying, “Don’t just love the ones who can help you climb the ladder. Love the ones at the bottom. That’s where you’ll find the heart of God.”
 
And that’s what we’re called to do as followers of Christ.
 
We’re called to a radical hospitality that goes beyond social norms and expectations.
 
We’re called to humility that doesn’t seek the best seat, but instead, is content with the lowest, the one that serves others, the one that says, “It’s not about me.”
 
So, as we reflect on this passage, I want us to ask ourselves some hard questions today.
 
Who are we inviting to our table?
 
Who are we elevating in our lives?
 
Is it just the people who can do something for us, or are we willing to look beyond that and show love to those who can’t return the favor?
 
How do we approach status in our own lives?
 
Are we willing to humble ourselves and take the low place, knowing that our worth doesn’t come from what others think of us but from the love of God?
 
And finally, how can we live with humility and compassion in our everyday relationships—whether at work, at home, or with strangers?
 
We are called to reflect the heart of Christ, who humbled himself, took the lowly place, and invited us to the table.
 
In conclusion, the table that Jesus invites us to isn’t about seeking glory for ourselves.
 
It’s a table where we humbly serve, where we extend grace to others, and where we learn that true greatness comes from serving those around us.
 
Let us be a people who, like Jesus, turn the world’s values upside down.
 
Let’s be the kind of people who sit at the lowest seat, lift others up, and make room at the table for all who need it. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
God of abundance, we invite you to walk with us as we encounter a world that is ever-changing, sometimes faster than we can keep up with. We ask that you would humble us before you and before others such that we can offer grace to our neighbours, friends, family, and strangers we meet. In your holy and loving name we pray, Amen.

---