Recently, several parishioners forwarded me an article in the Wall Street Journal about pastors turning to generative AI to help them prepare sermons. Interestingly, none of the forwards came with commentary—neither “Here’s something to help you manage your time better” nor “Can you believe this?” But, clearly, there was some interest in the topic, so here’s a peek behind the curtain of sermon preparation, at least the way it works for me.
First, here’s the old-school rule of thumb we were taught in seminary: a preacher should put in an hour of prep for each minute of sermon length. So, for a 13-minute sermon, a rough average for me, I should be devoting 13 hours to reading, prayer, reflection, writing, editing, and practice. (For a preacher in a nonliturgical, sermon-focused tradition, this formula would mean 40 to 45 hours per week of sermon prep.) Do I invest an hour per minute? Well, it depends on the topic, the “preaching moment,” and what else is competing for attention. If it’s the state-of-the-parish address or some potentially divisive topic, the hour-a-minute rule is probably right. If it’s the 13th Sunday after Pentecost? Probably not—despite the fact that sermon prep is one of my favorite parts of this priest gig.
The scarce resource of time is the one of the points of the Journal article. A pastor interviewed there captures the reality all preachers face: The time he saves using AI for “first-pass research and phrasing” lets him visit more people in the hospital that week. According to a Barna Group study the article cites, half of pastors use AI to help generate ideas, and about a quarter use it to help write their sermons.
I don’t. To some extent, that’s because I’m not one of the cool kids wired to embrace new technology, which is a failing on my part. But it’s also an issue of trust. We’ve all heard stories about AI’s failings: serving up misinformation, sycophantic praise of the user, or bad advice; so, some suspicion there seems warranted. But my trust issues run deeper. First, I know myself well enough to realize that, if I’m offered an easy way out of a hard task, I’ll be tempted to take it more than I should. But alongside recognizing original sin, I also recognize blessing. To me, a sermon is the divine intersection of the preacher’s life and background; the needs and character of the congregation; the preacher’s prayer, Scripture reading, and study; the Holy Spirit’s faithful inspiration and guidance; and God’s gift of time. All that, I trust.
I’m not saying I refuse to use AI. If I need a slide deck for a class I’m teaching, AI can take my notes and design one better and certainly quicker than I can. But, for me, the content needs to come from different generative intelligence.
This article was submitted by the Rev. Canon John Spicer, Rector of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Kansas City.
