Is Logos Better Than AI For Sermon Prep?
Inputs, Training Modelers, And Why Theological Education Continues To Separate The Boys From The Men
Yesterday afternoon, in a small café beside the Pantheon in Rome—arguably the most overwhelming ancient spot in the city center—I met a man who reminded me that AI, for all its magic, is still just a mirror.
A short, Indian-looking man was double-fisting G&Ts like a champ at the counter. He spoke broken English to the Italian behind the bar, who volleyed back in equally broken English. Intrigued, I asked where he was from.
“Bangladesh,” he said.
I told him I was Canadian and had Bangladeshi friends in Toronto. He smiled. His son lives in Vancouver.
Without asking, he bought me a G&T—maybe because Muslims assume we’re all drunks. Frankie and I joined him at his table. That's when he told us he was an architect—one of the top global firms. He wasn’t bluffing. The guy knew his stuff. Dropped names. Talked theory. He did his master’s in London, where he met his wife, a PhD in architecture. Of course she was.
Then he started talking AI.
He spoke about using it in architectural design—how it’s a tool, a prompt engine, nothing more. And then, shifting seamlessly, he pointed to the dome of the Pantheon. A structure built nearly 2,000 years ago with a free-floating roof so mathematically precise, it still baffles modern engineers. He said no one tries to replicate it now—the craftsmanship, the audacity, the intelligence—it just doesn’t exist anymore.
He held up his phone. “These things are idiot boxes,” he said. “They’re only as good as the people using them. Human beings are the world’s greatest resource.”
I was stunned. That one sentence hit like scripture.
Frankie and I are here in Rome working on a film script. We’ve been using AI to clean up our writing. It’s great with polish. Great with prompts when you need total cheese. There's even a character in the film who speaks fluent Corporatese—AI nailed that. But for something truly human? Something unpredictable, strange, and alive?
Nada.
The architect was right. AI reflects. It calculates. But it doesn’t dream. It doesn’t feel. It doesn’t double-fist G&Ts in a café beside a wonder of the ancient world and strike up a conversation with strangers about God, geometry, and creative entropy.
That’s all us.
Chesterton put it best: “The truth is stranger than fiction.”
AI can’t predict the preternatural—can’t see the cosmic interplay happening behind someone’s eyes, can’t sense the thin places where heaven crashes through.
I hit that architect with the Gospel—in the strangest delivery I’ve ever given. Frankie had a word of knowledge: the man longed for a daughter.
His eyes widened. “We’re in the middle of adopting one right now,” he said. This month.
He was shook.
Which brings us back to inputs—and the necessity of Logos.
What I’m about to say probably isn’t kosher, so I’m putting it below the paywall. Just a hint: training your modeler with experts matters. But how do you know who’s actually an expert?
I love N.T. Wright in 1 Corinthians 15, but not so much his method in 1 Timothy 2.
DA Carson? Great in 1 Corinthians 14. Not so much Romans 8.
Ben Witherington all day on Romans 1. But Romans 16? Not buying it.
JC Thomas on Revelation 3? Absolutely. Ephesians 5? I’ll pass.
See what I mean? Expertise is nuanced. Discernment is required. And most people don’t have the training to sift through it all.
Wanna know why 41% of TheosSeminary students don’t get past our first course, Introduction to Theological Writing? Because they come expecting a cheap education that reflects the price we charge—and instead get punched in the gut by what is arguably the hardest theological undergrad program known to man.
They aren’t cut out for it. Or rather—they aren’t willing to pay the price.
But I get it. Not everyone’s called to be a theologian.
That’s why I’m building a more accessible track—a Bible-lover’s undergrad for the theologically curious but non-academic. It’ll still be robust. Still rooted. But more intuitive for those who’ll never parse Greek for fun.
And yes, they’ll likely use AI to help. They’ll be addicted to the content AI produces. And truthfully? Most won’t know the difference.
But I do.
And if you’re reading this, maybe you do too.
I’m not content being a run-of-the-mill preacher. Or thinker. Or writer.
And if you’re not either—get a theological education. Because AI isn’t the mind. It’s the mirror.
You are the brains behind your AI use.
Here’s what I do with Logos and AI: