How Joe Rogan stumbled into defending Christianity — and exposed atheist nonsense



Joe Rogan is undoubtedly the most popular podcaster in the world, hosting intriguing and expansive conversations about topics ranging from politics to sports — and everything in between. Rogan’s influence over the culture cannot be overstated.

That’s why his recent comments about Jesus, the Bible, and church are so notable.

'I'm sticking with Jesus on that one. Jesus makes more sense. People have come back to life.'

Before this year, many had long assumed Rogan was a firm agnostic based on various on-air proclamations and statements. But 2025 seemed to signify what can only be described as a spiritual shift in the host’s life.

Specifically, Rogan’s recent statements about Christianity aren’t merely pointed and effective; they actively dismantle and challenge some of the most absurd atheist arguments against the Christian faith, with Rogan’s responses to Jesus, the Big Bang, and other related issues raising eyebrows.

Intrigue over his spiritual journey kicked into high gear in May when Christian apologist Wesley Huff, who appeared on “The Joe Rogan Experience” in January, revealed that Rogan had started attending church on a “consistent” basis.

Not long after this stunning news, Rogan delivered remarks that went mega-viral when he openly bolstered belief in Jesus’ resurrection and casted doubt on the Big Bang theory.

“It’s funny, because people will be incredulous about the resurrection of Jesus Christ, but yet they’re convinced that the entire universe was smaller than the head of a pin and for no reason that anybody's adequately explained to me — that makes sense — instantaneously became everything? OK,” Rogan told fellow podcaster Cody Tucker, noting that the Big Bang isn’t as credible as some believe.

RELATED: Like, subscribe, and spread the good news: Joe Rogan helps gospel go viral

Rogan quoted late ethnobotanist Terence McKenna, who reportedly once made notable comments about the debate over faith and science — comments with which Rogan agreed. Ultimately, when juxtaposing Christ’s story with science’s claims about creation, the podcast host said there’s a clear winner.

“That’s McKenna’s great line … the difference between science and religion is that science only asks you for one miracle ... the Big Bang,” Rogan said.

“I’m sticking with Jesus on that one. Jesus makes more sense. People have come back to life.”

These comments were just the beginning, though, because Rogan again dove into similar issues on another recent episode of his show. In fact, he addressed his church attendance and said he sees incredible benefits from being present inside houses of worship.

“It’s a bunch of people that are going to try to make their lives better. They're trying to be a better person,” Rogan said.

“I mean, for me — at least the place that I go to — they read and analyze passages in the Bible. I’m really interested in what these people were trying to say, because I don’t think it’s nothing.”

It’s this latter quote that’s most notable, because Rogan was speaking to the essential issues of the Christian faith — the questions core to the debate over biblical truth. Is scripture real or filled with fables? Are the stories we read in the Bible rooted in eternal truth — or are they mere allegories and fictitious sentiments?

While Rogan said “atheists and secular people” will go out of their way to dismiss the Bible, the mega-popular podcaster offered a checkmate of sorts, asserting that there’s more happening in the pages of the New and Old Testaments than these critics are willing to recognize.

“I hear that among self-professed intelligent people, like, ‘It’s a fairy tale.’ I don’t know that’s true. I think there’s more to it,” he said. “I think it’s history, but I think it’s a confusing history. It’s a confusing history because it was a long time ago, and it’s people telling things in an oral tradition and writing things down in a language that you don’t understand, in the context of a culture that you don’t understand.”

And he wasn’t done there. Rogan went on to herald Christianity as the “most fascinating” of all religions, noting that Jesus’ life, ministry, crucifixion, and resurrection are all hallmarks that differentiate the faith.

“Christianity in particular is the most fascinating to me, because there’s this one person that everybody agrees existed that, somehow or another, had the best plan for how human beings should interact with each other and behave,” he said.

“He didn’t even protest,” Rogan said. “[He] died on the cross, supposedly for our sins. It’s a fascinating story. What does it represent, though? That’s the real thing. What was that? What happened? Who was Jesus Christ, if it was a human being? What was that? That’s wild.”

RELATED: Is Joe Rogan's podcast becoming a platform for Christian truth?

Ponder the fact that the most popular podcaster on Earth is seeking, asking important questions — and offering compelling arguments to push back on so much of the atheistic nonsense that has dominated our discourse.

From the media to Hollywood, we have endured decades of ludicrous absurdity, with many folks forcing down our throats secular humanism and anti-Christian folly. And now an unlikely hero — a podcaster not previously known for faith chops — has emerged and is taking the world along for his personal journey.

My only hope is that we all start to pray for Rogan’s faith, life, and spiritual growth. His platform is massive, and his foray into the Christian faith — if it persists — could be key to helping further shift young people and older generations to move closer to the Lord.

America's best and worst states for religious freedom — and what it means for our future



Now is a good time for religion in America.

President Trump has established the White House Religious Liberty Commission, led by a diverse group of religious leaders and scholars, including Mary Margaret Bush, Napa Legal’s own former executive director. The commission is identifying some of the nation’s most pressing religious liberty issues and developing plans for action.

Lawmakers should take advantage of the moment to enact durable protections that will outlast any administration.

The U.S. Supreme Court, too, has protected religious liberty in several crucial cases. In Carson v. Makin (2022), the court held that it is unconstitutional to exclude religious schools from generally available government funding programs.In Kennedy v. Bremerton, it found that coach Joseph Kennedy’s postgame prayers did not violate the First Amendment. This year brought additional victories in Mahmoud v. Taylor, where the court upheld parents’ rights to opt their children out of LGBT content in elementary school classes, and Catholic Charities v. Wisconsin, where a unanimous court prevented state officials from favoring some religions over others.

These encouraging developments might tempt Americans to believe that the battle for nationwide religious freedom has already been won.

Yet even with such powerful forces defending religious liberty at the federal level, state laws affecting religious organizations remain critical for ensuring that everyday Americans do not suffer persecution for their firmly held religious beliefs.

Consider what just happened in Washington state.

In 2025, Catholic priests there faced an impossible choice between obeying their faith and complying with state law. A new Washington state statute required clergy to report instances of abuse or neglect they heard during confession, despite the Church’s centuries-old sacramental seal. The law singled out priests while giving others, like lawyers, a pass, and it carried the threat of jail time and fines.

Thankfully, a federal court blocked the law before it could take effect, ruling in Etienne v. Ferguson that the state could not force clergy to violate the sacred seal of confession.

But that case never should have been necessary. Washington’s law reflected the same pattern Napa Legal’s research has uncovered repeatedly: When state laws are weak or hostile to faith-based organizations, those organizations are left vulnerable even when the federal government and Supreme Court appear friendly to religion.

This month, the Napa Legal Institute released the third edition of the Faith and Freedom Index, an analysis of state laws across the country that either help or hinder religious organizations. Whether national politics seem to favor or oppose religious liberty, state laws remain central to its long-term health.

The states with the top overall scores were:

  • Alabama
  • Kansas
  • Indiana
  • Texas
  • Mississippi

The five lowest scores went to:

  • Michigan
  • Washington
  • Massachusetts
  • West Virginia
  • Maryland

What distinguishes the states at the top of the list from those at the bottom? Several types of laws come into play. For example, the index’s highest performing states have built frameworks that proactively safeguard religious organizations. Their laws provide broad protections for religious exercise and create environments where ministries can thrive.

By contrast, it’s no coincidence that Washington state ranks near the bottom. The same state that passed one of the most intrusive laws in recent memory also reflects on the Index a legal system that makes it far too easy for governments to intrude on matters of faith.

That is why it is important to strike while the iron is hot. When the federal government is friendly to religious liberty, that is precisely the time to act. Political conditions can change quickly, but good laws endure. Lawmakers should take advantage of the moment to enact durable protections that will outlast any administration.

RELATED: Why Trump's religious liberty agenda terrifies the left

SAUL LOEB/AFP via Getty Images

There are many reasons why state laws remain decisive. First, state statutes can still contradict clear federal precedent. After the Supreme Court struck downWisconsin’s discriminatory law in Catholic Charities v. Wisconsin, a similar law remained in effect in New York. Religious organizations there had to continue the litigation even after the Supreme Court had essentially decided the issue.

It is also not enough for states to rely solely on constitutional protections or a Religious Freedom Restoration Act.

These safeguards are vital but not sufficient. When a religious organization’s hiring or service conflicts with state “nondiscrimination” laws, it should not have to spend years in court to prove its right to operate according to its beliefs. States can and should pass clear exemptions that prevent such conflicts from ever arising.

Finally, state tax and regulatory codes can have a major impact on whether faith-based organizations thrive. Many religious nonprofits are treated like for-profit corporations, subject to tax regimes and administrative filings, fees, and audits that make it hard for them to operate. States should look closely at such laws and remove unnecessary burdens that divert precious time and resources away from ministry and service.

No matter who sits in the White House or on the Supreme Court, state laws remain a foundation of religious liberty. The Faith and Freedom Index remains an important tool to protect and foster the work of religious organizations and religious liberty in general.

Voters should consider how laws in their states burden religion when they cast their votes. Policymakers should pay close attention to laws that may seem tedious but can make or break the needed work of religious organizations. And our government leaders should work to enact laws that foster religious liberty, so that religion can serve its proper role in contributing to the common good.

Defusing the debt bomb: 'We're almost out of time,' warns watchdog



“The entire world's economy is on the top of a soup bubble. There has never in history been a failure of this kind of magnitude. All of the money in the world is gone. Where did it go? Who knows, but it's gone.”

It’s been almost a decade and a half since conservative commentator Bill Whittle — railing against the Obama administration’s orgy of federal spending — offered this dire prognosis on national debt.

'A default is an economic breakdown. It's for real. We may never reclaim America’s position in the world.'

And those were the good old days — when America was a paltry $15 trillion in the red. By the time President Barack Obama left office in January 2017, the number had climbed to just shy of $20 trillion — $8.6 trillion more than when he took office in 2009.

Since then, we’ve experienced three administrations and the chaos of the COVID pandemic. The virus alone cost $4.7 trillion in total budgetary resources for the federal government.

As of October 21, the national debt now sits at an astounding $38 trillion, and all indications are that it will only continue to grow, with current projections suggesting it will hit $39 trillion by March 30.

A post-default world

Mark Minnella is the co-founder of the National Association of Christian Financial Consultants and the host of the faith-based radio show "Financial Issues." He tells Alignthat America may be getting closer to a “point of no return” and warns that the path to a debt default will be painful and destructive.

“If the treasury of the country fails to pay creditors and obligations, or if interest payment goes unpaid, what you see is that trust immediately goes away in the currency. Markets panic. Interest rates rise," says Minnella. And that's when the real trouble begins:

When the world stops trusting our currency, the dollar loses its position in global trade as the global reserve. Then other nations will step into that vacuum, like the Chinese and Russians. That will erode American influence and leadership. Internally, we would see inflation as the dollar loses its trust. We’ll see the government having to print money to stay ahead. We’ll see a surge in the cost of mortgages and business loans, a decline in spending, housing, and companies failing. We’ll have serious economic pain. It’ll self-correct over time, but we’d lose our position as world leaders.

As is often the case, those clinging to the bottom rung of the economic ladder will get hit hardest, warns Minnella. “Especially for those people who are the weakest and most vulnerable, our most impoverished people will be hurt the worst. It hurts them more than anybody else because they don’t have a little more to spend.”

More than political theater

The recently ended government shutdown has given many Americans a painful preview of what happens when the money spigot turns off. Hundreds of thousands of employees have gone unpaid, government services have been limited, and SNAP benefits have been threatened. Even for those not directly affected, financial insecurity looms and the future looks uncertain.

But to Minnella, a debt default would make the last 40-something days look like a vacation.

“I don’t think [default] looks like a government shutdown. That looks like inconvenience and political theater," he tells Align.

"A default is an economic breakdown. It's for real. We may never reclaim America’s position in the world. The shutdown wasn’t really a danger. The danger is a Congress that refuses to stop spending.”

Minnella is far from alone in his fears. Just last week, noted economist Kent Smetters predicted that the U.S. could hit a breaking point with interest payments as soon as 2045 and offered this grim observation: “Almost every empire has been taken down by debt." Even JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dimon has raised alarms, warning in September, “Like most problems, it's better to deal with it than let it happen.”

Bipartisan boondoggle

While President Trump has made some noise in addressing the debt through DOGE cuts and tariff dividends, it hasn’t curbed federal spending enough to make a difference. He did declare on Monday that tariff income would be used to “SUBSTANTIALLY PAY DOWN NATIONAL DEBT,” but this year’s tariff revenue is just $195 billion, and the majority of that money is set to go to $2,000 taxpayer dividends. Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act also cost $3.4 trillion in spending.

According to Minnella, the skyrocketing national debt is a shared disgrace for both major political parties, neither of whom have the will to explain federal belt-tightening to their constituents.

“It’s not Republican or Democrat,” he says. “It's Washington in general. And as much as it's a problem, it's also part of the solution."

RELATED: The right needs bigger ideas than tax cuts

Al Drago/Bloomberg via Getty Images

Spines wanted

Unfortunately, those in power — whether the MAGA right or the socialist left — seem unlikely to rise to the occasion.

"We don’t have adults in Congress anymore who care about our nation," says Minnella. "We have politicians who care about their careers. They don’t want to cut any spending that might cause somebody to vote against them. They want to encourage as much spending as possible."

Which means fiscal responsibility is ultimately up to voters.

"We need to start electing people with a spine who aren’t there for themselves. We need to vote them out and hold them accountable," says Minnella.

“We need to speak the truth ... that we’re almost out of time," he continues. "American citizens need to take back their power and force out people who will not listen.”

Eggheads Can’t Get America Out Of The Mess It’s In

Most academics have literally no answers to our present state of affairs.

Bishop raises hell after woke priest allows homosexual ABC broadcaster to receive Eucharist beside his 'husband'



Bishop Joseph Strickland, the cleric removed from his office in Tyler, Texas, in 2023 by the late Pope Francis, urged his colleagues gathered on Wednesday for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops' plenary assembly to address the matter of a woke priest's apparent willingness to run afoul of the church's custom and to turn a hallowed Catholic ceremony into a non-straight spectacle.

Gio Benitez, a homosexual ABC News correspondent who is "married" to a man, apparently decided after Pope Francis' passing last year to make his way back to the Catholic Church. Benitez, who was allegedly baptized in secret at the age of 15, was confirmed at St. Paul the Apostle's Church in New York City on Nov. 8.

'Here we are talking about doctrine.'

"My Confirmation Mass was a very small gathering of family and friends who have quietly been with me on this journey," Benitez wrote on Instagram. "I found the Ark of the Covenant in my heart, stored there by the one who created me… exactly as I am."

The ABC News correspondent also received holy communion from the church's woke pastor, Rev. Eric Andrews, at the highly publicized mass where LGBT activist Fr. James Martin was a concelebrant and where Benitez's "husband" served as his sponsor.

Blaze News reached out to Rev. Andrews for comment, but did not receive a response.

While the Catholic Church holds that homosexual acts are "acts of grave depravity," "intrinsically disordered," "contrary to the natural law," and "can under no circumstances" be approved, the Catechism states that homosexual persons must nevertheless "be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity."

RELATED: New head of US Catholic Bishops said he would deny communion to pro-abortion politicians

Bishop Joseph Strickland. Photo by Craig F. Walker/Boston Globe via Getty Images

The church has also made clear that Catholics with same-sex attraction who are chaste can "participate fully in the spiritual and sacramental life of the Catholic faith community."

However, those who regularly engage in sexual activity or are partners in a committed homosexual relationship that includes regular sexual relations are not to receive holy communion or serve in public ministries.

"Receiving the sacrament is the ultimate expression of our Catholic faith, an intensely personal matter between communicant and priest," wrote the late and posthumously exonerated Cardinal George Pell. "It's not a question of refusing homosexuals or someone who is homosexually oriented. The rule is basically the same for everyone."

"If a person is actually engaged in — by public admission, at any given time — a practice contrary to Church teaching in a serious matter, then that person is not entitled to receive Holy Communion," continued Pell. "This would apply, for example, to a married person openly living in adultery. Similarly, persons who openly declare themselves active homosexuals take a position which makes it impossible for them to receive Holy Communion."

During a USCCB discussion of doctrine on Wednesday, Bishop Strickland raised the matter of Benitez's highly publicized reception of holy communion while flanked by his "husband."

"I don't know how many of us have seen on the social media priests and others gathered, celebrating the confirmation of a man living with a man openly," said Strickland. "It just needs to be addressed. Father James Martin once again involved. Great pictures of all of them smiling."

Bishop Strickland and Martin have traded barbs over the years, largely around Martin's subversive LGBT activism and apparent efforts to liberalize the Catholic Church's stance on such matters.

Martin — who shared an article titled "Gio Benitez, Openly Gay ABC Anchor, Joins the Catholic Church" on social media this week with the caption "Happy to be a part of your journey!" — has made no secret of his activism. For instance, he took issue with the Supreme Court's June 2025 decision to let parents opt their children out of lessons featuring LGBT propaganda and insinuated that homosexual persons aren't really bound by church teaching.

"Here we are talking about doctrine," continued Strickland. "I just thought I need to raise that issue. I know it's not part of any agenda, but this body gathered, we need to address it."

The panel, focused on updated ethical and religious directives for Catholic health care services, did not take up Strickland's concern.

The Catholic Herald noted that Strickland's tenure as bishop of Tyler was "marked by a reputation for directness, a strong emphasis on Eucharistic devotion, and a willingness to challenge trends in the wider Church that he believed risked undermining the clarity of Catholic teaching."

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Antifa burns, the media spin, and truth takes the hits



On Monday night, violence erupted at UC Berkeley. Again.

That sentence alone might not shock anyone. Berkeley and riots go together like gender studies and Marxist slogans — a tradition older than most of its students. But this time, the target was different.

Christians and conservatives should keep showing up. Every TPUSA Faith event, every lecture, every debate — attend them. The more witnesses, the less room for lies.

The mob didn’t come for a politician or a protest. It came for families.

The crowd surrounded a Turning Point USA Faith event hosted by an officially recognized student club, featuring Christian apologist Frank Turek and atheist Peter Boghossian, along with comedian Rob Schneider and British commentator and satirist Andrew Doyle. In one evening, TPUSA offered more intellectual diversity than the entire Berkeley humanities department has managed all year.

The riot that proved the stereotype

Picture families walking into a campus hall to hear a Christian and an atheist debate civilly. Now picture an angry crowd blocking the doors, throwing bottles, lighting fires, and chanting, “Punch a fascist in the face!”

Their only problem: No fascists were present. Unless, of course, you classify Turek, Boghossian, and a few Christian undergrads as Mussolini’s heirs. But that’s Berkeley logic — where “diversity” means everyone thinks the same and disagreement is treated like violence.

The radical left has no greater enemies than Christianity and free speech. Combine the two, and leftists melt down faster than a Berkeley sophomore trying to define the word “woman.”

How did we get here?

Berkeley has been the stage for riots since the 1960s. If campus unrest were Broadway, Berkeley would be “The Phantom of the Opera” — always running, always loud, always masked. But tradition doesn’t excuse terror.

The deeper problem is the culture feeding it. In today’s universities, students are marinated in ideology, not inquiry. The humanities have traded Socrates for slogans and replaced debate with denunciation.

This worldview breeds fragility and fanaticism: emotional dependence on outrage, intellectual intolerance, and the conviction that disagreement equals danger. It’s no wonder students' activism now mimics the very authoritarianism they claim to resist.

Antifa’s unofficial motto might as well be: “Accuse your opponents of what you plan to do.”

The media’s complicity

Right on cue, the Guardian rushed to describe the riot as “mostly peaceful.” That phrase should be Berkeley’s new marketing slogan: Mostly Peaceful Since 1964.

The truth is simpler. The TPUSA attendees were peaceful. The rioters were not. They screamed in people’s faces, hurled debris, blocked exits, and called it “defending democracy.” Apparently, democracy now means assaulting Christians.

The radical playbook

If you want to decode the left’s method, just reverse the leftists' accusations. They say, “Don’t demonize others,” while labeling everyone to the right of Lenin a fascist. They say, “All voices deserve to be heard,” while drowning opponents in primal screams.

They say, “Fight oppression,” while physically intimidating families trying to attend a faith event.

At Arizona State University, a colleague of mine once wrote, “I’m all for free speech — but not for bigots,” to justify banning Charlie Kirk from campus. Translation: I love freedom — as long as no one I dislike exercises it.

This is the moral logic of the modern left: Disagreement equals harm, and harm justifies censorship — or violence.

The 'radical' minority that isn’t

We keep calling these leftists radicals, but that implies rarity. Surveys say otherwise. The ideological monoculture dominates academia. The “moderate left” isn’t moderating anything; it’s supplying the radicals with silence, funding, and applause.

The tenured class that claims to value “diversity of thought” has created an institution where dissenters are treated like heretics.

RELATED: The Antifa mob at Berkeley showed us what evil looks like

Justin Sullivan/Getty Images

What must be done

First, Christians and conservatives should keep showing up. Every TPUSA Faith event, every lecture, every debate — attend them. The more witnesses, the less room for lies.

Second, tell your state legislators you don’t want tax dollars funding violent intolerance disguised as higher learning.

Third, warn every parent and student what really happens on college campuses. Prepare your kids to challenge the ideological orthodoxy behind DEI, critical theory, and the alphabet soup of new moral dogmas.

Finally, support alternatives. Seek out institutions that teach truth instead of propaganda — and organizations like TPUSA Faith that defend free inquiry.

That’s why I started my Substack: to expose the rot inside American universities before your children discover it the hard way.

The cure for intellectual darkness is light. The cure for ideological riots is courage. And the cure for the Berkeley disease begins with showing up, speaking truth, and refusing to bow.

New head of US Catholic Bishops said he would deny communion to pro-abortion politicians



Archbishop Paul S. Coakley is not in favor of giving politicians preferential treatment.

Coakley, archbishop of Oklahoma City, was elected as the next president of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops in a secret ballot on Tuesday and will serve a three-year term as president.

'I think in many cases it becomes the right decision and the only choice.'

Coakley has set a strong precedent for supporting the denial of communion to certain politicians that dates back more than a decade.

Most recently, in 2022, Coakley spoke in support of Archbishop Salvatore Joseph Cordileone of San Francisco. As reported by Life News, Cordileone decided to withhold communion from Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) at the time after she backed the Democrats as they blocked a vote on a bill to stop infanticide at least 80 times.

As Pelosi's district encompasses San Francisco, Cordileone informed Pelosi she would be denied communion following her repeated dismissal of the archbishop, who attempted to speak with her about supporting "grave evil."

Coakley supported the decision, saying, "I applaud the courage of Archbishop Cordileone and his leadership in taking this difficult step. Let us continue to pray for Abp. Cordileone, priests of the Archdiocese of San Francisco, Speaker Pelosi, for the protection of the unborn, and for the conversion of hearts and minds."

The new USCCB president has remained consistent, and the proof is showcased in an interview he gave in 2014.

RELATED: They think 'Christian AI' will hasten Christ's second coming — and now they're building it

— (@)

After Coakley said that many Catholic politicians have been at the forefront of "fostering so-called abortion rights," he was asked about denying them communion due to the "severity" of their support for abortion.

Coakley replied, "I think one has to determine yet at what point it can be determined that they have come to that state of obstinate refusal to desist from that condition of manifest, grave sin."

He told Life Site News, "I think we have an obligation as bishops, as pastors, to try to work with them to bring them to a change of heart and refusing them communion would be, not the first, but more than likely, the last stage in a serious [sic] of steps."

The outlet then clarified, asking if it was something he would rule out or not.

"Oh, absolutely not," Coakley reiterated. "I think it is something that Canon Law sanctions and that I think many bishops find themselves with no other choice but to make that decision. I think in many cases it becomes the right decision and the only choice."

RELATED: Protestant pastor says polygamy is biblical: 'He divinely ordained it'

VATICAN - 2022/06/29: US House of Representatives Speaker Nancy Pelosi (R), with her husband, Paul Pelosi (C), attend a Holy Mass for the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul lead by Pope Francis in St. Peter's Basilica. (Photo by Stefano Costantino/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images)

Upon accepting his new role, Coakley wrote a statement on X about being "put out into deep waters" in his new position.

"Once again, the Lord is inviting me," he wrote. "Please pray that I may be a faithful steward and a wise servant of unity and communion with our Holy Father, Pope Leo, and with my brother bishops."

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They think 'Christian AI' will hasten Christ's second coming — and now they're building it



Artificial intelligence and Christianity were never meant to share a pew. One was built on the mystery of divine creation; the other on the arrogance of re-creation. One asks for faith; the other for feedback. Christ said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Silicon Valley says, “We’re still in beta.” The two are about as compatible as the Garden of Eden and a Google campus.

Without swift changes, the trajectory is clear: AI becomes man’s latest Tower of Babel — a cathedral without God, where the worshippers speak in code and measure divinity in data points. It promises omniscience without morality, communion without confession, salvation without sin. If AI seeks to simulate humanity rather than serve it, when imitation becomes indistinguishable from incarnation, the heresy is complete.

We're reluctant to realize until it's too late that we built a golden calf with customer support.

There’s something absurd about watching tech CEOs quote Scripture as they roll out neural networks. Patrick Gelsinger’s “Christian AI” through his company Gloo is a fine example — an attempt to digitize devotion, automate the altar, and outsource the soul. He speaks of hastening “the coming of Christ’s return,” as if the Second Coming might now depend on cloud storage and quarterly funding rounds. The Reformation had Luther and the printing press; Silicon Valley has sermon slides and subscription tiers.

To say AI and Christianity neatly align is to confuse omniscience with omnipotence, a mix-up Gelsinger seems to find profitable.

Christianity begins with the admission of imperfection — that man is fallen and must be redeemed. The nascent church of AI begins with the belief that perfection is achievable, just one dataset and funding round away. One kneels before mystery; the other dissects it. To the Christian, knowledge without humility is literally the oldest sin in the book. To the eschaton-immanentizing technologist, it’s the business model.

What sermon can stop the theological train wreck? AI is coming for everything — art, law, love, and, inevitably, faith. It will write psalms, confess sins, and deliver homilies with the warmth of a toaster. It will perform digital miracles that leave priests wondering if they should have learned Python. Already, chatbots soothe the lonely and counsel the broken. Tomorrow they’ll offer absolution, complete with a “forgive me” button and instant feedback on spiritual progress. The modern confessional booth will be equipped with terms of service.

The danger, I suggest, isn’t that AI will destroy religion but, in our convenience-hungry culture, out-market it.

RELATED: Google’s AI called Robby Starbuck a predator. Now he’s suing.

Photo by Bloomberg/Getty Images

Hope with a progress bar, delivered quietly, efficiently, and with better UX. People won’t pray but prompt. They won’t seek God’s voice; they’ll fine-tune a model until it tells them exactly what they wish He’d say. That’s the tragedy of this new gospel: It offers comfort without conviction, certainty without sacrifice. It gives you grace without God.

Still, mere mockery of Gelsinger’s “Christian AI” misses a deeper truth. The age of AI isn’t waiting for our theological approval. A machine doesn’t care whether you call it sacred or satanic. Regardless, it can learn your hymns, mirror your morality, and sell you an app that scores your sanctity. The church can ignore it, or it can prepare for the reckoning. Because whether you like it or not, the algorithm is coming for Sunday service.

So what would a respectable Christian AI look like? Not Gloo’s chipper chatbot that mistakes engagement metrics for evangelism. Not another “faith tech” product designed to “optimize ministry engagement” or “gamify discipleship.” A respectable Christian AI would reflect restraint, not reach for reverence. It would refuse to pretend it knows God’s will, and it would never charge a fee to interpret it. It would encourage silence over speech and contemplation over computation.

In short, it would imitate the virtues of the church, not the vanity of its donors.

Imagine an AI that didn’t flatter human desire but challenged it. An AI that told uncomfortable truths instead of personalized platitudes. One that said, “No, you’re not special,” and meant it lovingly. It would not track your prayers like Fitbits track your steps; it would remind you that prayer is more intimate than an input ever can be. It wouldn’t replace your priest or pastor. It would remind you to see him in person.

But will we build that AI? Silence and modesty don’t tend to attract venture capital. Silicon Valley prefers small-g gods it can measure and monetize. The market has little use for mystery. And so we march, like digital Israelites, toward a promised land of perfect prediction, reluctant to realize until it's too late that we built a golden calf with customer support.

If Christianity survives the algorithmic age, it won’t be because it out-coded Google. It will be because it remembered what no machine can: that conscience cannot be coded, wonder cannot be wired, and the divine resists human design. Faith was never meant to be efficient, and salvation is not a software update.

AI will teach us many things about ourselves: our hunger for control, dread of solitude, and addiction to ease. But perhaps, in its cold imitation of creation, it will also remind us why we need the real thing. When the screen insists, “I am always here,” the believer should reply, “So is God, and you’re not Him.”

In the end, maybe that’s the only way to keep faith alive. Not by competing with the machine, but by refusing to become one.

Protestant pastor says polygamy is biblical: 'He divinely ordained it'



A protestant pastor is not backing down from his claim that he can have multiple wives.

Rich Tidwell, a pastor in Canton, Missouri, has sparked an online debate about the acceptance of polygamy in Christianity and whether or not it is biblically justifiable.

'I have two beautiful wives.'

To the expected amount of backlash, Tidwell recently made an announcement on his Instagram page that his second wife is expecting his eighth child.

"I have two beautiful wives," Tidwell wrote in a long entry. "We're thrilled for what the Lord has done for our family," he added, citing Bible passage Luke 18:29.

The pastor wrote about his justifications in an article called "Plural marriage," labeling the practice as polygyny, which refers to one man being married to multiple women.

"In 2019, I discovered the surprising fact that God not only never prohibited polygyny throughout the entire biblical narrative (as He did with polyandry or homosexuality), He divinely ordained it in several cases," Tidwell claimed.

He then cited more passages.

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Polygyny is Biblically lawful. pic.twitter.com/qvcAN5RtUq
— Rich Tidwell (@richtidwell) November 11, 2025

Exodus 21:10 regulates but does not prohibit the practice, Tidwell claimed, when it says, "If he takes another wife to himself, he shall not diminish her food, her clothing, or her marital rights."

Tidwell also noted 2 Chronicles 24:2-3, which mentions that "Jehoiada took two wives for him, and he became the father of sons and daughters," as well as 2 Samuel 12:7-8:

This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: "I anointed you king over Israel, and I delivered you from the hand of Saul. I gave your master's house to you, and your master’s wives into your arms. I gave you all Israel and Judah. And if all this had been too little, I would have given you even more."

The pastor continued with more citations and said that if God explicitly gave men more than one wife at any time in history, "Then it was not and is not sin."

For those who argued that polygyny is not the original design for mankind, Tidwell countered, "Neither is death, nor clothing, nor eating meat."

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— (@)

In an article titled "Should polygamist families be welcome at church?" Tidwell shared a letter he wrote to an Anglican church in Missouri requesting to attend its worship services; he was soundly denied.

A priest replied, saying the bishop, clergy, and parish council "unanimously decided against" the family's participation.

"On multiple levels, polygamy is forbidden in our convictions, interpretation of Scripture, and the Canons and Constitution of the [Anglican Church of North America]," the unknown representative wrote, citing the following: "Canon II.7: Of Christian Marriage, which defines marriage as a lifelong union of one man and one woman."

"These convictions are non-negotiable," the letter said. "If you ever repent and become functionally and theologically monogamous, you are welcome to participate."

Tidwell is a pastor at the nondenominational Ormond Church in Canton, Missouri, according to Protestia.

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Church-hopping: Confessions of an itinerant worshipper



I have been church-hopping since the summer of 2020. This means that a lot of “concerned evangelicals” have felt justified in asking, “What are you searching for?”

That first summer, I claimed to be searching for holy ground. However, I already knew that this was wherever a saint steps — wherever God speaks to us and we listen in prayer.

We had spent a wonderful evening with an elderly Latter-day Saints couple who found us hitchhiking, then brought us home to 'show us some literature.'

I have never been searching for anything as much as I have been interested to see what it is that others claim to have found. It thrills me to see that it is all pretty much the same, in minor degrees. Some pastors are more boring than others. Everyone makes claims about the “other” churches in town. Everyone has their rituals, their deeds, the words that are not works. And very few are curious about the others.

“Seek and ye shall find,” they murmur among themselves in the territory of their home church, patting one another on the back because they somehow found truth without seeking it. Why aren’t the others seeking it? They’d be here among them if they sought — if they loved the truth as they loved the Bible.

Not all. Only the majority. Maybe not even that many — only a few loud ones.

I, too, among them, also vocal, a little charismatic, a little opinionated, forgetting what it means to seek before you find.

The world is not our home

Now I have dragged my husband in on the game of flirting with the appearance of universalism. And yet we are no more universalist than Paul or St. Francis of Assisi or C.S. Lewis. We are curious, alive, and nonplussed by the promissory comforts of the world. This world is not our home, and neither is a single building.

And yet, if you seek, ye shall find. It matters not that my intentions were no different from those of an atheist — to attend, to observe, to write. I am relating to the woman at the front of the church who is not Catholic but is hired to sign the sermon and songs for the deaf attendees, thus hearing every word of the priest and chorus more thoroughly than any of the parishioners and finding that her job has morphed into a spiritual awakening.

I am finding community, kindred spirits, truth outside my understanding of it, and a narrow path. I am becoming less curious as a larger passion consumes my heart and soul.

We intended to attend Mass while on our honeymoon — something difficult to do when you have no agency over where you will be day to day, as hitchhikers reliant upon the goodwill of strangers and public transit. We joked about putting up a cardboard sign, our thumbs in the air, “TAKE US TO CHURCH.” Maybe someday.

Instead we went where we could.

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A.M. Hickman

A church for widows

The first place was an Anglican church in Newfoundland that seemed to be run by little old ladies — 30 of them, to be precise, scattered in the pews, in the choir, and at the altar. There were only five men, all of them seated. This did not bode well, we thought.

But it was truly a church for widows, a church that was doing its very best to remain active, putting on plays and picnics even though there were no young people or children. The Spirit was there with those little old ladies. It was comforting them, pushing them forward even though they had lost much. It was reminding them of all that awaited them in paradise. And they were ready.

They gave us cookies and greeted us with forgetful, motherly smiles, as if we were not mere strangers but apparitions of heavenly promises. We were their reminder to keep hoping, and they were our nudge toward charity. We sat, we witnessed, and we listened.

Seventh-day supper

After that we found different Catholic churches to pray in, which somehow always seemed to be far away when Sunday came around. There was a large one — a shrine — on the border of Quebec, Labrador, and Newfoundland, then another a little farther into Quebec, in an Inuit village. This one hearkened to the traditions of these people, too. How beautiful, I remember thinking, the way the Church uses each people's specific culture and history to express the truth.

Then we walked by a window that sported “Seventh-day Adventist” in a French-Canadian Maine town. It was a Thursday, and we had already determined to stay in town for a French-Acadian Mass on Sunday.

“Let’s go there,” I told my husband. “It might be a little frustrating, but it’ll be a good experience for you.”

He agreed, and so we brought ourselves and our backpacks there Saturday morning. The church was new — it looked more like a Main Street business because of its location and the large windows. There were only six or so people inside.

“Can we join you all?” I asked. “No, I am not Seventh-day Adventist, but I’ve attended many services because my family keeps Sabbath on Saturday.”

We put our bags in front of a pile of unopened boxes of "The Great Controversy," and they handed us a booklet on Romans and two pens. The room was ugly, like a warehouse, except for the lace curtains in the windows.

For the next two hours, we “studied the Bible,” mostly discussing how wonderful Jesus is and what it means to pray — how often we should pray and what makes prayer sincere — and how all Protestant churches are basically Catholic because they acknowledge the authority of Rome and the pope to change the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday.

The church service was bland, hard to follow. I tatted a lace bookmark to try to keep awake. The speaker was likeable, but he droned on about a Bible story, not really recounting it accurately. I don’t think that was the point of his speaking, though — they were simply allowing him a moment to speak, because he was a man and the church had few members and needed participation from everyone in order to keep the spirit alive.

They did not give us cookies, but something better — a meal of various bean and rice dishes. There was fresh homemade hummus, too.

Nine out of Ten

As we ate, everyone continued to ramble on about how awful it was that other churches didn’t care to follow all of the Ten Commandments.

“Evangelicals want the Ten Commandments in schools, and yet they do not want them in their churches.”

“If children came home from school and refused to do their homework on Saturday, most Christian parents would not be happy.”

“There’s a church in town that has the Ten Commandments hanging on the outside of their building,” the pastor began.

So I talked to them about it and asked them why they don’t care about the fourth commandment. Oh, boy! The pastor said he’d get back to me, and let me tell you, oh boy, oh boy, that he finally decided that he could piecemeal a bunch of verses today and how he thinks he can prove that Jesus wants us to keep all the commandments now except that one.

That night the pastor let us stay in his house, and as he showed us all his proof for Saturday Sabbath and how the Catholic Church has duped nearly all mainstream churches, Andy finally confessed, “I am a Roman Catholic, and I believe the Church had the authority to change the Sabbath to distinguish us from the Jewish faith.”

The man started. Then he said, “Well, I think Jesus will save Catholics, too, even though they are only keeping nine of 10 of God’s commandments. But they will be judged for disregarding the Sabbath Day.”

We were friends now.

Answered prayers

In the middle of Maine, we attended one other church. All the days leading up to it were edifying. We had spent a wonderful evening with an elderly Latter-day Saints couple who found us hitchhiking, then brought us home to “show us some literature.” It was not the "Book of Mormon." They handed us a glass of orange juice and a box of raisins and played old 1960s and 1970s love songs for us, then told us their love story — of how they had a temple wedding in Switzerland; of their 14 children, 88 grandchildren, and 17 great-grandchildren.

After we played a game of cards, they brought us to our destination, where we stayed with a Quaker-esque hippie Christian family. This family brought us to their church the next day.

It was as if God was answering our longing for Mass. Although the church was small and non-denominational, it felt how an early church might feel or how a Catholic service might feel if it were in someone’s home. They prayed and sang some of the songs you’d hear in a Catholic church, along with songs from an Assemblies of God or Baptist-type non-denominational church. They said the Apostles’ Creed together and took communion as a Catholic church does, with everyone coming up front and receiving it in long lines from the pastor.

The sermon was sound — like a homily — and did not feel as scattered with pieces of scripture as many non-denominational church services are. We were spellbound. If it weren’t for how modern everyone seemed to be dressed, I would have thought we had been transported to an era before the Reformation.

Shared roots

After it was over, I asked the pastor if their church had any Catholic influence.

He laughed and said no, that if there were ex-Catholic members, they would probably oppose these traditional Orthodox inclusions. No, these were things he had included because from his studies and experiences, he had come to believe that there was a lot that Protestantism lost when it spurned tradition and ritualism, and he was slowly trying to incorporate it back into church. “It’s in our roots, too.”

I talked to his wife and told her about my Living Room Academy (she had heard of it) and how it was partially inspired by my travels in woke circles when I realized that many lesbians and liberal women were doing a better job of being women and passing on beauty and skills than Christian women. Her eyes opened wide. “You’re right.” I’ve heard that since we left, she has decided to open her own iteration of the Living Room Academy for the girls in their church.

What I loved about their church was that they didn’t seem to be stuck in their bubble. Their church wasn’t really their “home” as much as it was them trying to find out what home means by looking to the past and looking to paradise. They seem to be doing a very good job at making it work — their church was filled with children, happy-looking teenagers, and a diversity of fashion from very beautiful dresses to jeans with frilly purses. There seemed to be room for expression of faith.

Coming home

After that we finally made it to a Mass in Fitchburg, Massachusetts. And I must admit, it kind of felt like coming home.

I hadn’t realized how much I had come to love attending Catholic churches with my husband. There are still many questions I have had to sort through about the Church and whether or not I can in good conscience submit myself to its authority. However, being there, surrounded by the beauty of the type that God requested when He detailed the temple He wanted from the Jews, feels like being at home … in paradise.

Everything else feels so earth-like, so business-minded and corporate and mechanical. Even though the “music” of mainstream churches claims to have more life in the show, there’s nothing quite like the chorus in a cathedral. And while you might get a good sermon in a Protestant church, you’re not going to hear near as much scripture read as is read at Mass.

Most Protestants would complain if they had to sit through half of what is read — they want a Bible verse that corroborates a sermon. Meanwhile, you might get about 15 minutes of rich preaching at a Mass — the rest is pure scripture.

It’s almost a hobby now — I will certainly never stop church-hopping, comparing and pondering. I want our children to have these experiences. So many wonderful conversations have sprung up between my husband and me because of these visits, and we are finding ourselves growing more spiritually aligned because of it.

And so I will continue to exhort anyone of any faith: Visit the churches around you, no matter their denomination. Every church has something to offer you and will give you an opportunity to practice humility and charity.

Editor's note: A version of this essay earlier appeared on the Polite Company Substack.