Welcome to Breakpoint, a daily look at an ever-changing culture through the lens of unchanging truth. For the Colson Center, I'm John Stoneberry. According to a recent analysis by OpenAI, ChatGPT is asked about 70 million questions each week about religion. Nearly half of those are about Islam, and only about a third are about Christianity.
Well, today on Breakpoint, author and apologist Abdul Murray tells us how we should think about these numbers and what it tells us about this cultural moment. Here's Abdul Murray. Right now, a university student, let's call her Amira, has the Quran open on her desk. She's just read Surah 4, verse 157, which says that Jesus was neither killed nor crucified. It was only made to appear so.
Her Christian roommate insists otherwise.
So she does what millions now do: she opens ChatGPT and types, "Did Jesus really die on the cross?" Amira's question is one of roughly 70 million that people put to ChatGPT about religion every week. That figure comes from Faith Community and AI, a report OpenAI released in October. Its analysis of a year's worth of requests found that 45% concern Islam. And 34% concern Christianity. About 22 million questions a week involve studying sacred texts.
Numbers like these invite quick conclusions, like Islam is winning the West or Muslims are secretly searching for Jesus. I want to suggest we slow down. The data tell us what people ask; they don't tell us who is asking or why. Consider who is likely asking. ChatGPT's users span the globe.
Muslims make up about one quarter of the world's population, and Christians a bit less than a third.
So why do questions about Islam outnumber questions about Christianity? The report offers a clue: 39 percent of Islam-related questions concern what is halal or haram, permitted or forbidden, or the rules of religious rituals. Having grown up Muslim, I'm not surprised. Islam is a religion of law, and naturally generates technical questions. Is this food halal?
Does this break my fast? How do I make up missed prayer?
So many questions are not from seekers weighing conversion. Tellingly, questions about Islam spiked during Ramadan and Eid al-Adha, when observance raises practical questions. Other questions likely come from non-Muslims curious about a faith that makes headlines almost daily, sometimes for deeply troubling reasons.
So the data don't reveal a groundswell of conversions to Islam. Nor do they show that interest in Christianity is fading. Christian questions climbed around Easter, and nearly half dealt with the Bible itself. What the data do reveal is that for millions of people, the first interpreter of Scripture is now a machine. AI can be a useful research tool.
It can locate a verse, summarize a commentary, or lay out different interpretive traditions. Used that way, it's a fine place to start, but it's a poor place to stop. It needs to be tested by the text and in conversation with people who have studied and lived these truths. After all, AI isn't neutral. One research consortium found that AI models routinely leave faith out of their answers to life's deepest questions and subtly steer users toward some faiths and away from others when they ask about conversion.
Open AI seems to grasp AI's limits, saying that spiritual guidance and religious authority belongs with people and their communities.
Well, they're right. When God answered humanity's deepest questions, He didn't send a summary. He came in person. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us. John 1, verse 14.
God's ultimate answer to our questions is a person who can be known. That brings us back to Amira. Her question wasn't just about a historical fact. Underneath it lurk harder ones. If the crucifixion happened, could the Quran be wrong?
What would my family say if I believed it? Why would God allow a righteous prophet to die in such shame? No algorithm can address such questions the way they deserve, because the question isn't the primary focus; the person asking it is. Paul instructs us to prepare ourselves to answer each person. Colossians 4:6.
And Peter teaches us to give a reason for the hope that is in you, First Peter three fifteen. AI can answer a question, but because it's not a person, it can't answer people. And because it's a machine, it doesn't have hope, let alone a reason for having hope. When I was a Muslim investigating the claims of Christ, evidence and arguments mattered enormously to me. But they came to me through people, Christian friends who treated me with dignity, even while I argued hard against them.
And understood how the price I'd pay kept me from embracing the gospel. ChatGPT can't sit across the table from Amira. It can't pray for her. It can't love her. Seventy million questions a week tell us that people are still asking.
So when your Muslim neighbor finally wonders about the hope Jesus offers, be the one she asks. That was author and apologist Abdul Murray with today's Breakpoint. If you're a fan of Breakpoint, leave us a review wherever you download podcasts. And for more resources or to share this commentary with others, visit Breakpoint.org. Breakpoint listeners in Colorado, we're excited to invite you to join us for an event at Colorado Christian University with Dr.
Christopher Watkin on remaining human in the AI age on Monday, November 16th at 7 p.m. AI promises remarkable opportunities, but with them comes the risk of misshaping what it means to be human. Human beings are made in the image of God, endowed with a dignity we receive rather than manufacture. Dr. Watkin will help us.
Consider what this vision means for our use of AI, our relationships, our work, and worship, and for the challenge of remaining fully human in an age increasingly shaped by AI. Join us November 16th at 7 p.m. at Colorado Christian University. Register for free at ColsonCenter.org/Colorado. That's ColsonCenter.org/Colorado.
