In the heart of Lucerne, Switzerland, the historic Peterskapelle church has long been a symbol of tradition. However, in a bold step toward modernization, the church recently hosted an experiment that bridges the ancient with the cutting-edge: an AI-powered Jesus avatar. Known as Deus in Machina, the initiative has sparked curiosity and controversy, inviting visitors to engage in private dialogues with an AI-trained depiction of Jesus capable of communicating in 100 languages.

The experiment was spearheaded by theologian Marco Schmid, who collaborated with a local university’s research lab specializing in immersive technology. After previous projects involving virtual and augmented reality, the church decided to take a radical leap and introduce an avatar of Jesus himself. Installed in the church’s confessional booth, the AI was programmed with theological texts to provide real-time answers to visitors’ questions.

Schmid explained the motivation behind the project: “We wanted to see how people would react to an AI Jesus. Would they find it meaningful? Would they even want to talk to him?” The goal was to create an approachable tool for exploring religion and spirituality in a way that transcends language and cultural barriers.

Over two months, more than 1,000 visitors—including Muslims and tourists from as far away as China and Vietnam—interacted with the AI Jesus. The feedback was mixed but intriguing. Two-thirds of users described the experience as “spiritual,” with many reporting a sense of religious connection. For Schmid, this was unexpected: “It showed that people have a thirst for something beyond the Bible and rituals—they want to ‘talk’ to Jesus.”

Yet, not all responses were positive. Some found it difficult to connect with a machine, while others criticized the AI’s answers as shallow or repetitive. A local journalist described the avatar’s wisdom as reminiscent of “calendar clichés.” This disparity in responses underscored the challenges of programming an AI to meet the deeply nuanced expectations of faith.

The experiment raised serious questions about the role of AI in spiritual matters. Schmid noted the inherent risks of relying on AI in this context. Despite extensive testing with 30 participants before the launch and continuous monitoring during the experiment, there was always the possibility that the AI might produce responses that were inappropriate, theologically unsound, or even harmful.

“It’s not a confession,” Schmid emphasized, clarifying that users were advised not to disclose personal information and were reminded they were engaging with a machine. Nonetheless, the church faced backlash from both Catholic and Protestant colleagues—some objected to the use of the confessional booth, while others took issue with the use of AI-generated religious imagery.

The experiment highlighted the potential for AI to serve as a spiritual guide in a world where technology increasingly shapes human interaction. It also opened the door to deeper questions. Can a machine truly provide meaningful spiritual guidance, or does faith require a human touch? What are the ethical boundaries for using AI in religious contexts? Could relying on AI dilute the authenticity of spiritual experiences? Schmid ultimately decided against making the AI Jesus a permanent fixture, citing the responsibility and unpredictability of such a venture. “To put a Jesus like that permanently, I wouldn’t do that. Because the responsibility would be too great.”

While Deus in Machina was an experiment, it raises profound questions about the intersection of faith, technology, and human connection to the supernatural.