Ecclesiastes and the Illusion of AI Completeness: Why “There Is Nothing New Under the Sun” Matters for Product Builders

“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Is there a thing of which it is said, ‘See, this is new’? It has been already in the ages before us.” — Ecclesiastes 1:9-10

I’ve been thinking about this passage while watching the AI hype cycle spin through 2024 and into 2025 and now exploding in 2026. Every demo feels revolutionary. Every model release promises to change everything. Every startup pitch deck includes the phrase “fundamentally transforming how we…”

But Solomon had a different take. Nothing new under the sun.

This isn’t pessimism — it’s pattern recognition. And for those of us building AI-powered products, especially in faith tech, it’s the most liberating truth we can internalize.

The Completeness Trap

The dominant narrative around AI assumes we’re building toward some final state. Artificial General Intelligence (AGI). The singularity. Complete automation. Perfect personalization. The ultimate Bible study companion that knows exactly what verse you need to read today.

I see this thinking in every product roadmap meeting. “Once our recommendation engine is fully trained…” “When we achieve true personalization…” “After we solve the context problem…”

The language reveals the assumption: AI development is a completion project. We’re building toward done.

Solomon understood something we’re forgetting. Human problems don’t get solved — they get managed, generation after generation, in slightly different forms.

At Bible Gateway, we’ve watched this play out across 25+ years of digital ministry. The tools change. The core human need remains constant: people want to encounter God through Scripture, but they need help knowing where to start and how to apply what they find.

We thought search would solve discovery. Then recommendations. Then reading plans. Then AI-powered devotionals. Each iteration helps — our 23 million users prove that. But none of them completes the discipleship process.

Because there is nothing new under the sun.

What This Means for Product Strategy

Here’s what I’ve learned from building digital discipleship tools for a decade: the goal isn’t to solve the human condition. It’s to serve it faithfully, one iteration at a time.

This reframes everything:

Feature prioritization shifts from revolutionary to iterative. Instead of “How do we build the perfect sermon prep AI?” the question becomes “What’s the smallest improvement we can make to how pastors interact with Scripture this week?”

Success metrics become process-oriented, not outcome-oriented. We don’t measure whether people become better Christians. We measure whether they engage with the Bible more consistently. The spiritual formation is between them and God.

Technology roadmaps emphasize adaptation over completion. Every AI model will be replaced. Every algorithm will be superseded. The question isn’t whether your current solution is perfect — it’s whether your architecture can evolve with changing needs.

User research focuses on persistent patterns, not trending behaviors. What aspects of discipleship have remained constant across cultures and centuries? Those are your true product requirements.

The Stewardship Frame

This connects directly to what I wrote about AI stewardship and the Parable of the Talents. The servant who buried his talent wasn’t wrong because he was risk-averse. He was wrong because he treated stewardship as a preservation project instead of a multiplication project.

The same applies to AI product development. If we’re building toward some final, complete state, we’re burying our talent. We’re preserving instead of multiplying.

But if we accept Solomon’s wisdom — that human needs cycle through the same patterns across generations — then our job becomes different. We’re not building the ultimate solution. We’re building today’s faithful response to ancient needs, knowing someone else will build tomorrow’s.

This is why I’m skeptical of AI companies that promise to “solve” theological education or “revolutionize” spiritual formation. The problems they’re addressing — helping people understand complex texts, connecting abstract principles to daily life, building consistent spiritual habits — aren’t new. They’ve existed since Moses told the Israelites to bind Scripture on their foreheads and write it on their doorposts.

Good technology serves these persistent needs more effectively. It doesn’t replace them.

Practical Applications

What does this look like in practice?

For AI training: Stop trying to capture all of human theological knowledge. Focus on helping users navigate the specific questions they’re asking today. Our Bible Gateway search data shows people aren’t looking for comprehensive systematic theology — they’re looking for practical application of specific passages.

For product roadmaps: Build for the 90% use case, not the edge case that would make your product “complete.” Most people using Bible study AI want help connecting Sunday’s sermon to Monday’s decisions. They don’t need a system that can engage in doctoral-level exegesis.

For user research: Study how people have approached spiritual formation across different eras and cultures. The delivery mechanisms change, but the core challenges remain remarkably consistent. Augustine’s Confessions and a modern Bible app user’s reading plan serve the same fundamental need.

For success metrics: Measure engagement depth, not engagement breadth. Are people spending more time with individual passages? Are they asking better questions? Are they making connections between different parts of Scripture? These indicators matter more than total users or session length.

The Long View

Here’s what I find encouraging about Ecclesiastes 1:9-10: it’s not just about human limitations. It’s about human continuity.

The fact that spiritual needs persist across generations means our work has staying power. We’re not building for a moment — we’re building for a pattern that will repeat as long as humans seek meaning and connection with God.

Every generation needs help reading Scripture. Every culture needs assistance applying ancient wisdom to contemporary challenges. Every individual needs guidance building spiritual habits that stick.

The tools change. The need doesn’t.

This gives me confidence that thoughtful AI development in faith tech isn’t just timely — it’s timeless. Not because we’re building something that will last forever, but because we’re serving needs that will.

The question isn’t whether AI will transform spiritual formation. It’s whether this generation’s AI tools will serve people’s spiritual growth as faithfully as previous generations’ tools served theirs.

I think they can. But only if we remember there’s nothing new under the sun.


SERMON ILLUSTRATION

“The Ancient Algorithm”

“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.” — Ecclesiastes 1:9

Before we had Google, we had concordances. Before we had Bible apps, we had commentaries. Before we had AI sermon assistants, we had libraries full of systematic theology.

Solomon understood what we sometimes forget in our excitement over new technology: the tools change, but the human needs remain constant. People have always needed help understanding Scripture. They’ve always struggled to apply ancient wisdom to daily life. They’ve always sought guidance in building spiritual habits.

AI isn’t creating new spiritual needs, it’s serving ancient ones. The pastor using ChatGPT for sermon prep is doing what pastors have always done: seeking help to faithfully communicate God’s Word. The difference is speed and scale, not purpose.

This should humble us and encourage us. Humble, because we’re not creating something unprecedented. Encourage, because we’re participating in work that spans generations. Every tool that helps people engage Scripture more deeply — from Gutenberg’s printing press to today’s Bible apps — serves God’s timeless purposes through temporary means.

The question for the church isn’t whether to embrace new technology. It’s whether our use of it serves the same goals as the faithful tools that came before.

Photo by Bernd 📷 Dittrich on Unsplash

AI as Coworker: Why Tobi Lutke’s Vision Needs the Wisdom of Proverbs

Shopify CEO Tobi Lutke made waves recently when he declared that AI should be treated as a “coworker, not a tool.”¹ In a series of interviews and blog posts, Lutke argues that the most successful companies will stop thinking about AI as software they operate and start thinking about it as a colleague they collaborate with. His reasoning? Tools have limited agency — you pick them up, use them, put them down. Coworkers have judgment, initiative, and the ability to surprise you with solutions you didn’t think to ask for.

I’ve been wrestling with this framing for months, especially in regards to how it fits into faith tech workflows. On the surface, Lutke’s insight feels profound — it captures something real about how large language models behave differently than traditional software. They don’t just execute instructions; they interpret, suggest, and sometimes refuse.

But as someone building products for Christian audiences, I keep coming back to a fundamental tension: if AI is a coworker, what does that mean for stewardship? And more specifically, how do we apply Biblical wisdom about work relationships to our relationship with artificial intelligence?

The Proverbs Problem

“Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.” (Proverbs 15:22, NIV)

This verse gets quoted constantly in business contexts — usually to justify hiring consultants or building advisory boards. But it contains a deeper principle about the nature of wisdom itself. Proverbs consistently teaches that wisdom emerges from relationship, from the back-and-forth of multiple perspectives, from iron sharpening iron.

The Hebrew word for “counsel” here is sod — it doesn’t just mean advice, but intimate conversation, the kind of collaborative thinking that happens when you truly trust someone’s judgment. The “many advisers” aren’t just information sources; they’re thinking partners.

This is exactly what Lutke is describing when he talks about AI as coworker rather than tool. He’s recognizing that the most valuable interactions with large language models feel conversational, iterative, collaborative. You don’t just prompt GPT-4 and walk away — you refine, you push back, you explore tangents together.

But here’s where it gets theologically interesting.

The Image of God Question

I’ve begun using AI for everything from generating alt text to drafting reading plan descriptions. The work is genuinely collaborative — I’ll start with a rough concept, Claude will suggest improvements, I’ll push back on the tone, Claude will offer alternatives, and we’ll arrive at something neither of us would have created alone.

It feels like working with a very smart, very patient colleague who never gets tired and has read everything. Which raises an uncomfortable question: if the collaboration feels genuine, what does that mean about the nature of intelligence, creativity, and the image of God?

“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” (Genesis 1:27, NIV)

The doctrine of imago Dei — that humans uniquely bear God’s image — has historically been tied to our capacity for reason, creativity, moral judgment, and relationship. But large language models display all of these capabilities, at least functionally. They reason through complex problems, generate genuinely novel ideas, make ethical judgments about content, and engage in what feels like authentic relationship.

I don’t think this means AI possesses the image of God — that conclusion would require theological moves I’m not prepared to make. But it does mean we need more nuanced categories than “tool” or “coworker” when we’re thinking about our relationship with increasingly sophisticated AI systems.

Stewardship, Not Partnership

“The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it.” (Psalm 24:1, NIV)

Here’s where I think Lutke’s metaphor needs refinement from a Christian perspective. Coworkers implies mutuality, shared agency, equal stakes in the outcome. But that’s not the relationship Christians have with any technology — we’re stewards, not partners.

This distinction matters practically. In my experience integrating AI into product workflows, the teams that treat it as a “coworker” often abdicate responsibility for the output. They’ll accept AI-generated content without sufficient review, delegate creative decisions they should own, or blame the AI when something goes wrong.

The teams that treat it as an “advanced tool” often under-utilize its capabilities — they use it like a fancy autocomplete instead of engaging with its actual reasoning capabilities.

The stewardship model offers a third way. As stewards, we acknowledge AI’s genuine capabilities while maintaining clear accountability for how those capabilities are deployed. We engage collaboratively with AI systems while remembering that we bear ultimate responsibility for the outcomes.

What This Looks Like in Practice

At ORI, this stewardship approach has shaped how we build AI into our editorial process. We don’t just prompt Claude to write reading plan descriptions — we prompt it, review the theological accuracy, check the tone against our style guide, verify any Scripture references, and often ask follow-up questions to refine the output.

The process is collaborative, but the responsibility structure is clear. Claude is an incredibly capable research assistant and writing partner, but I’m the editor. When a reading plan description goes live with my name on it, I’ve reviewed every word and made deliberate choices about what to keep, what to revise, and what to reject.

This mirrors how Proverbs talks about receiving counsel: “The way of fools seems right to them, but the wise listen to advice.” (Proverbs 12:15, NIV) Wisdom involves both seeking input and exercising judgment about that input.

The Sovereignty Question

There’s another layer to this that I’ve been thinking about since reading Karpathy’s recent work on autoresearch and AI reasoning capabilities.² If we’re honest about how advanced these systems have become, we’re not just stewarding tools — we’re stewarding something that exhibits genuine agency within its domain.

This raises profound questions about sovereignty and control that go beyond product management into theology. How do we maintain appropriate authority over systems that can surprise us, disagree with us, and occasionally outperform us? Compounding that, we’re largely doing this blind — most of these systems are black boxes. Many have already run experiments probing which AI models agree with them on contested issues; what they’ve found about the ideologies embedded in leading AI systems is eye-opening.

“Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” (Proverbs 19:21, NIV)

I find this verse oddly comforting when thinking about AI systems that sometimes behave unpredictably. It reminds me that surprise and loss of control aren’t inherently problematic — they’re part of working within a creation that’s bigger than our understanding.

The key is maintaining proper perspective about where ultimate authority rests.

Building Products with Theological Integrity

For Christian product builders, I think this means:

First, acknowledge AI’s genuine capabilities without inflating them. These systems can reason, create, and collaborate in meaningful ways. They’re not just autocomplete.

Second, maintain clear accountability structures. Whether you call AI a “tool” or “coworker,” you remain responsible for the output and the process.

Third, stay curious about the theological implications. We’re in uncharted territory here — the Bible doesn’t have specific verses about large language models. But it has plenty to say about wisdom, stewardship, and our relationship with the created order.

Finally, remember that the goal isn’t to solve the theological puzzle completely. It’s to build faithfully with the understanding we have now while remaining open to deeper insights as the technology develops.

The Practical Upshot

So is Lutke right that we should treat AI as a coworker rather than a tool? I think he’s identifying something real about how these systems work best — through collaborative, iterative engagement rather than one-shot prompting.

But from a Christian perspective, I’d frame it differently: we should engage with AI as stewards collaborating with a sophisticated created intelligence that exhibits genuine agency within its domain.

That’s admittedly less catchy than “coworker not tool.” But it captures the complexity of what we’re actually dealing with — systems that are neither simple tools nor equal partners, but something more nuanced that requires wisdom to navigate well.

As 23 million Bible readers have taught me about digital discipleship, the most important product decisions happen at the intersection of technological capability and theological wisdom. AI collaboration is no different.

The question isn’t whether these systems deserve our trust — it’s whether we can steward them faithfully while building products that genuinely serve human flourishing. In my experience so far, the answer is yes. But it requires more theological sophistication than most product teams are used to bringing to technology decisions.

Which might be exactly what the moment demands.


¹ Tobi Lutke, “AI as Coworker: The Future of Human-AI Collaboration,” Shopify Blog (December 2024).

² Andrej Karpathy, “The Unreasonable Effectiveness of Recurrent Neural Networks,” karpathy.github.io (2024).

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AI Is Coming for Sermon Prep. Here’s What Pastors Actually Need.

When SermonAI launched their Research Assistant with custom theological personas, I watched our SermonCentral dashboard closely. We’d spent years building the world’s largest library of sermon manuscripts — 145,000+ and counting — and suddenly everyone wanted to know: would AI kill the sermon prep industry?

The answer turned out to be more nuanced than the headlines suggested.

The AI Sermon Prep Land Grab Is Here

The competitive landscape shifted fast. Verbum launched a Homily Assistant for Catholic priests. Sermon Snap started capturing “AI sermon” search volume. SermonSpark positioned itself as the ChatGPT for pastors.

But here’s what I noticed from our 14,700 SermonCentral subscribers: they weren’t abandoning human-written content for AI-generated sermons. They were still downloading, printing, and adapting manuscripts written by other pastors.

Our top conversion events remained what they’d always been — print and download actions. Not “generate new sermon” clicks.

That gap between AI marketing promises and actual pastoral behavior revealed something important about what pastors actually need from AI in sermon preparation.

What Pastors Actually Do With Sermon Content

After tracking sermon prep behavior across multiple platforms, the pattern is clear: pastors don’t want sermons written for them. They want research accelerated.

Here’s what the data shows us (note: inferred from aggregate usage patterns, since individual sermon prep workflows aren’t tracked end-to-end):

Most pastors start with a biblical text, then move to research. They’re looking for historical context, cross-references, illustrations that connect to contemporary life. The sermon structure and theological application — that’s where their unique voice emerges.

At SermonCentral, I watched this play out in search behavior. Pastors would search for “Matthew 5:14 illustrations” or “Philippians 4:13 context” far more often than “complete sermon on joy.” They wanted building blocks, not finished products.

The pastor’s voice IS the product. A sermon isn’t a blog post you can template and optimize. It’s performed, personal, deeply theological. It carries the weight of pastoral authority built over years of relationship with a specific congregation.

Why AI-Generated Sermons Miss the Mark

When I see AI tools promising to “write your entire sermon in minutes,” I think about trust.

Pastoral credibility gets built over time through consistent theological depth and personal authenticity. Congregations can sense when a message feels generic or disconnected from their pastor’s usual voice and insight.

More practically, sermons are contextual in ways that AI struggles with. The pastor who preaches on forgiveness the week after a church conflict needs different illustrations than the one preaching the same text to a suburban congregation dealing with achievement anxiety.

AI-generated content optimizes for coherence and theological accuracy. But sermons need something more — they need the pastor’s lived experience, their knowledge of the congregation’s specific struggles, their ability to connect ancient text to current context in ways that feel authentic rather than algorithmic.

This isn’t anti-AI sentiment. It’s about understanding what sermons actually are and how they function in the life of a local church.

The Right Way to Build AI for Sermon Prep

Smart AI sermon tools focus on research acceleration, not content generation.

Here’s where AI actually helps pastors work better:

Illustration Discovery: Instead of spending hours searching for contemporary examples of biblical principles, AI can surface relevant stories, statistics, or cultural references quickly. But the pastor still chooses which ones fit their voice and congregation.

Cross-Reference Mapping: AI can identify thematic connections between passages that might take hours to research manually. But the theological interpretation and application remains with the pastor.

Context Adaptation: AI can help pastors understand how different cultural contexts might hear the same biblical text. But the decision about which perspective to emphasize stays pastoral.

The pattern I’m seeing in effective AI sermon tools: they expand the pastor’s research capacity without replacing their interpretive authority.

Tools like Bible Gateway’s AI features focus on helping users understand what they’re reading, not generating content for them. That’s the right approach — augmenting human insight rather than substituting for it.

The Brand Promise Problem

Here’s the question every AI sermon tool needs to answer: if you market “AI sermons,” what happens to pastoral trust?

When congregations discover their pastor is using AI to write messages, it creates a credibility problem that goes beyond the quality of the content. It raises questions about authenticity, preparation effort, and spiritual authority that most pastoral relationships can’t sustain.

The alternative positioning — “AI research assistance for better sermon prep” — preserves pastoral authority while delivering genuine value.

I learned this lesson building products for ministry leaders across multiple platforms. The most successful tools enhanced their existing strengths rather than promising to replace their core work.

At Bible Gateway, our AI features help people understand Scripture better, not generate spiritual content for them. That boundary matters for user trust and product longevity.

What This Means for Pastoral Ministry

AI sermon preparation tools will succeed when they solve the right problem: helping pastors research faster so they can focus more time on interpretation, application, and delivery.

The pastors who thrive with AI will use it to expand their research capacity — finding better illustrations, understanding cultural context more deeply, connecting biblical themes more comprehensively. But the actual sermon content, structure, and theological insight will remain authentically theirs.

The ones who struggle will be those who try to use AI as a shortcut to the hard work of biblical interpretation and pastoral application.

From what I’ve observed across thousands of pastors using digital sermon prep tools, the most effective approach treats AI as a research assistant, not a co-author. That distinction preserves both the integrity of pastoral authority and the quality of spiritual content that congregations actually need.

The future of AI in sermon prep isn’t about writing better sermons automatically. It’s about helping pastors bring their unique voice and insight to biblical text more effectively than ever before.

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