AI Gesù: “Deus in Machina”

L’installazione di un ologramma di Gesù alimentato da intelligenza artificiale nella Cappella di San Pietro a Lucerna ha suscitato un acceso dibattito. Questo progetto, denominato “Deus in Machina”, permette ai visitatori di interagire con un’immagine digitale di Gesù che offre risposte basate sui principi cristiani e invita a riflessioni spirituali, ma non si configura come una confessione formale.

L’iniziativa è stata concepita per stimolare una discussione critica sui limiti e le opportunità dell’intelligenza artificiale nel contesto religioso. Marco Schmid, uno dei teologi coinvolti, ha sottolineato che l’ologramma è disponibile 24 ore su 24, un aspetto che potrebbe attrarre chi cerca conforto in momenti inaspettati. Tuttavia, alcuni critici considerano l’intera operazione ridicola o persino offensiva, suggerendo che l’idea di un “Gesù virtuale” possa sminuire la sacralità della confessione e della spiritualità.

Molti visitatori hanno riportato di aver trovato l’esperienza rassicurante e utile, affermando di aver ricevuto “tanti consigli cristiani” dall’ologramma. Questo solleva interrogativi su quanto possa essere autentica una conversazione spirituale con un’entità digitale. Alcuni fedeli hanno descritto l’interazione come “molto spirituale”, mentre altri si sono chiesti se sia appropriato affidarsi a una macchina per questioni esistenziali. Il progetto non è privo di controversie.

La chiesa stessa ha avvertito i partecipanti di non rivelare informazioni personali durante l’interazione, evidenziando i rischi legati all’uso dell’IA in contesti così delicati. Inoltre, la questione della validità delle risposte fornite dall’IA rispetto agli insegnamenti tradizionali della Chiesa rimane aperta. Gli sviluppatori affermano che le risposte sono state allineate con la visione teologica della chiesa, ma resta da vedere come questa tecnologia influenzerà le future pratiche religiose. Mentre il “Gesù AI” può offrire conforto a molti, la sua presenza nel confessionale solleva importanti domande su fede, tecnologia e autenticità spirituale.

L’AI è in grado di rispondere a domande e interagire con i visitatori in oltre 100 lingue, cercando di mantenere coerenza con la visione teologica della Chiesa. Quando una persona entra nel confessionale, l’ologramma accoglie il visitatore con frasi come “La pace sia con te, fratello” e invita a discutere delle proprie preoccupazioni. Sebbene l’esperienza possa sembrare simile a una confessione tradizionale, gli organizzatori chiariscono che non si tratta di un vero sacramento, ma piuttosto di un’opportunità per riflessioni spirituali. Un tentativo audace di integrare tecnologia e spiritualità, ma solleva importanti domande etiche e teologiche sul futuro della fede nell’era digitale. Se ne è occupato anche un giornale laico come The Guardian. Qui di seguito l’articolo in inglese.

The small, unadorned church has long ranked as the oldest in the Swiss city of Lucerne. But Peter’s chapel has become synonymous with all that is new after it installed an artificial intelligence-powered Jesus capable of dialoguing in 100 different languages.

“It was really an experiment,” said Marco Schmid, a theologian with the Peterskapelle church. “We wanted to see and understand how people react to an AI Jesus. What would they talk with him about? Would there be interest in talking to him? We’re probably pioneers in this.”

The installation, known as Deus in Machina, was launched in August as the latest initiative in a years-long collaboration with a local university research lab on immersive reality.

After projects that had experimented with virtual and augmented reality, the church decided that the next step was to install an avatar. Schmid said: “We had a discussion about what kind of avatar it would be — a theologian, a person or a saint? But then we realised the best figure would be Jesus himself.”

Short on space and seeking a place where people could have private conversations with the avatar, the church swapped out its priest to set up a computer and cables in the confessional booth. After training the AI program in theological texts, visitors were then invited to pose questions to a long-haired image of Jesus beamed through a latticework screen. He responded in real time, offering up answers generated through artificial intelligence.

People were advised not to disclose any personal information and confirm that they knew they were engaging with the avatar at their own risk. “It’s not a confession,” said Schmid. “We are not intending to imitate a confession.”

During the two-month period of the experiment, more than 1,000 people — including Muslims and visiting tourists from as far as China and Vietnam — took up the opportunity to interact with the avatar.

While data on the installation will be presented next week, feedback from more than 230 users suggested two-thirds of them had found it to be a “spiritual experience”, said Schmid. “So we can say they had a religiously positive moment with this AI Jesus. For me, that was surprising.”

Others were more negative, with some telling the church they found it impossible to talk to a machine. One local reporter who tried out the device described the answers as, at times, “trite, repetitive and exuding a wisdom reminiscent of calendar cliches”.

The feedback suggested there had been a wide disparity in the avatar’s answers, said Schmid. “I have the impression that sometimes he was really very good and people were incredibly happy and surprised and inspired,” he said. “And then there were also moments where he was somehow not so good, maybe more superficial.”

The experiment also faced criticism from some within the church community, said Schmid, with Catholic colleagues protesting at the use of the confessional while Protestant colleagues seemingly took umbrage at the installation’s use of imagery in this way.

What had most struck Schmid, however, was the risk the church had taken in trusting that the AI would not dole out responses that were illegal, explicit or offer up interpretations or spiritual advice that clashed with church teachings.

In the hope of mitigating this risk, the church had carried out tests with 30 people before the installation of the avatar. After the launch, it ensured that support was always close by for users.

“We never had the impression he was saying strange things,” said Schmid. “But of course we could never guarantee that he wouldn’t say anything strange.”

Ultimately, it was this uncertainty that had led him to decide that the avatar was best left as an experiment. “To put a Jesus like that permanently, I wouldn’t do that. Because the responsibility would be too great.”

During the two-month period of the experiment, more than 1,000 people took up the opportunity to interact with the avatar. Photograph: Peter Diem/Lukasgesellschaft

He was swift, however, to cite the broader potential of the idea. “It is a really easy, approachable tool where you can talk about religion, about Christianity, about Christian faith,” he said, musing that it could be refashioned into a sort of multilingual spiritual guide that could answer religious questions.

For him, the experiment — and the keen interest it had generated — had shown him that people were looking to go beyond the Bible, sacraments and rituals.

Schmid said: “I think there is a thirst to talk with Jesus. People want to have an answer: they want words and to listen to what he’s saying. I think that’s one element of it. Then of course there’s the curiosity of it. They want to see what this is.”

Originally published at https://www.theguardian.com on November 21, 2024.

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