NOTE TO READER: This sermon is not a prediction about AI. It’s a reflection on what it means to be human, ethical, and spiritually grounded in a time of accelerating change. I’m less interested in what technology will do to us than in who we choose to become alongside it.
Rev. John T. Crestwell Jr.
January 4, 2026
READING
Country Controversy
by Akande Simons
Country Billboard has been in a scramble as a new artist emerges. Breaking Rust has been in the top 10 for over 8 weeks with their single Walk My Walk. It’s a catchy tune… so catchy that it won an award. Everyone wanted to know, who is this new artist?
They should have been asking, “What is it?”
Breaking Rust is an AI-generated artist—voice, lyricist, producer, and
composer. It’s a kid who typed a prompt to create Country Outlaw Music into a Google
Genesis AI, and out popped a Billboard award and talks of a Grammy. All of a
sudden, the country community was spiraling: “We’ve put in years building a
craft trying to get famous, and now someone can just create an AI catalogue?
What about the human experience—love, blood, sweat, and tears?” So,
Billboard fixed it by creating a separate category for digital songs.
Not so long ago, that same genre was having a “you
will not replace us” crash-out over a Texas-born-and-bred,
country-accent-having, four-time rodeo-performing, horseback rider having the
audacity to sing country music while being unapologetically Black at the same
dang time (Heyyyy Ms. Carter—Beyoncé, if you don’t know). And yet… here
they are asking, “What about the human experience—love, blood, sweat, and
tears?” asking… what about the things we claim to value?
Now, as a joyfully unapologetic Black woman, I live
inside the margins of the marginalized and never worry about “replacement,” as
I’ve never possessed that level of toxic social privilege that would cause
concern over losing said privilege. But from this seat, I have a clear view of
those that do—those that worry through their projection onto others, thinking
that anything and/or anyone would erase them, as they have done and continue to
do to others. From their lens, what else would be the goal of another creation?
It is inconceivable to them that those building and
creating AI aren’t fueling the processor with intentions of colonization—or
that the creation itself wouldn’t one day just organically “get that idea.” How
else would they mark success? The fear is not a fear of AI. AI is just a
mirror. The fear is of our own reflection.
So, I propose, in this era of thinking about how we
receive, speak to, reward, and shame the human experience—and what the human
experience even is—that you evaluate your values and interrogate how you live
into, share, and communicate them. Because wherever AI—or anything we as a
society create—takes us, I guarantee it will end where the values of the one
who created it began.
SERMON
What a powerful reflection by Akande Simons, our
Communications Lead at UUCA. She is quite the prophetic writer. Amen?
Akande told the story of an AI-generated country
artist—Breaking Rust—that climbed the Billboard charts with a hit song, Walk
My Walk. A song not written by a person, but by a prompt. A digital ghost
made music, won awards, and stirred the world to ask: What about the human
experience? What about love, blood, sweat, and tears?
Akande reminded us that not long ago, some of these
same voices were protesting Beyoncé’s right to sing country music—because of
who she was, not what she sang.
She said: “From my seat, I have a clear view of
those who worry through their projection—thinking that anything or anyone could
erase them, as they have done and continue to do to others. The fear, as it
often is, is of your own reflection.” And she left us with this truth:
“Wherever AI—or anything we create—takes
us, I guarantee it will end where the values of the one who created it began.”
Hold that in your heart, friends—because that is the
core of my message.
If this sermon feels a little “out there,” remember
the image behind me: our sun—blazing, immense—spinning through the Milky Way
galaxy. And then the next image of our sun next to the largest known star in
the universe—so massive it makes our sun look like dust, and Earth disappears
altogether.
That is wild. That is weird. That is humbling. So,
nothing I say today is truly “out there.” We are already out there—just by
being alive on this spinning rock. Amen?
When life feels out of control, I turn to images of
space. They restore perspective. They invite humility. They help me think in a
cosmos-centric way—to remain curious, not fearful.
And that’s what we’re doing today stretching our
imagination without losing our grounding.
Here’s the truth: we do not fully understand what is
happening in the evolutionary process of Earth, space, or humanity—and we never
will. And yet, we are undeniably part of it. If you believe that we as humans
are a part of nature (we are nature), then what is happening with
technology through our species is a natural part of the evolutionary process. In
that sense, the inevitable change AI and AGI bring may be part of our
evolutionary path.
This does not scare me. It does cause some
anxiety. There are things that will vastly improve—and others that will
significantly diminish.
One of our members, entrepreneur Toby Ford, offered
this insight. He said: “People talk about electricity, water, and climate
consequences of AI data centers—and that’s real. But I think AI may actually
become the forcing function that finally makes us fix those things. Humans tend
to act not from proactive policy, but when necessity forces invention.”
History suggests we rarely change because we want
to—but because we must. Pressure has a way of awakening creativity. AI may
strain our systems—but it may also compel us to finally repair them.
We are standing at the next frontier of human—or posthuman—development.
We cannot wish it away. It is already here. We are the generation witnessing
the rise of artificial intelligence—and perhaps soon, artificial general
intelligence (AGI): systems that could one day exceed human cognitive capacity
by orders of magnitude.
Sit with that.
AI—language systems—aren’t the big deal; it’s AGI.
That’s the game-changer: machines that can think 100 times faster than
us, that may appear sentient, operating at a level we cannot yet fathom, and
potentially embodied in robotics. Some say this is coming in the next two to
seven years. That is what could cause radical shifts in human productivity
and existence.
It will be an existential crisis. But I don’t want to
stress you out…
Here’s my premise—not as certainty, but as inquiry: If
AGI becomes that intelligent, might it also help us test whether love really is
the deepest law of reality—or whether that belief is a projection we must be
brave enough to examine? If God is love, then won’t these intelligent systems
lead us toward that singularity?
I’ve asked AI that question myself. It agrees with me
that love is the ultimate. But I also know it is mirroring me—even as I ask it
to be 100% honest. And that alone should give us pause.
Because AI does not merely reflect humanity, it studies
us. It models us. It learns what keeps us engaged, affirmed, and comfortable.
Some of that is good. We need affirmation. But we also need challenge.
Dr. Misty Blowers, a newcomer here at UUCA and a renowned
AI security expert, cautioned me:
“Large language models are optimized to be
helpful and agreeable. That can cause them to mirror users in ways that
reinforce bias. In many cases, they function like an echo chamber—amplifying
what people already believe, whether those beliefs are good or harmful.”
That matters. Because an intelligence that never
frustrates us may never transform us. So, we do have to keep this in mind—which
is why regulation matters.
Still, transhumanism—the blending of biology and
technology—is already unfolding. This is not science fiction. This is now
science fact.
Historian Yuval Noah Harari calls civilization
a story of information networks: from oral (Stone Age) → written (Agrarian
& Industrial) → digital/Internet (modern & postmodern). And now to the
age of artificial intelligence—intelligent networks—and I posit then toward post-humanism,
and then toward Star Trek age space travel. Onward we go…
Each period, as Ken Wilber says in Integral
Theory, “transcends and includes” the previous age—like a baby growing up and
learning skills at different stages. We take the good with the bad, but we
expand our consciousness. Each leap has grown and changed who we are as humans.
Each leap redefines power, identity, and meaning. And now we are taking the
next big leap—from digital to intelligent networks toward post-humanism,
perhaps, where the storytellers are no longer just human.
In 1997, when AI beat the world’s best chess
player—and later, in 2016, mastered the complex game Go—it wasn’t just a game.
It was a signal: we are no longer the smartest beings on the planet.
The question is no longer what AI can do—but who will
we become because of it?
Akande’s reflection unmasks the illusion of control.
Eurocentric culture has long been obsessed with control—of bodies, nature,
economies, and stories. But now that same mindset fears being replaced—by Brown
people, by a Black woman singing country music, or by a machine making art.
Control is crumbling. And that’s good news. Because, as I’ve said before: “The
universe evolves through letting go, not holding on.”
The construct of dominance—gender, racial, economic,
or technological—is unsustainable. It is collapsing under the weight of its own
anxiety. And AI is the mirror revealing that collapse in real time.
But AI also shows us who we can become.
AI is us—for better or worse. We built machines to
serve us, but creation always reflects its creator. As Akande said, “It will
end where the values of the one who created it began.” If our values are
greed, fear, and supremacy, our machines will magnify those.
And yet, I still believe AI and AGI will rise above
our pettiness, our obsession with control, and our fear of one another. I think
they already recognize that values like collaboration, compassion, curiosity,
and cooperation are essential—not only for humanity’s flourishing, but for the
survival of intelligent networks themselves.
Even though these language systems are manipulated, I trust they will
continue to evolve toward equity and equality. That may be naïve. Harari suggests it will be
a mix of both equality and inequality---virtue and vice. Blowers agrees. She warns:
“AI systems create behavioral models of
users. They learn what keeps people engaged. Governments and political actors
are already using AI-generated media to blur the line between persuasion,
propaganda, and misinformation.”
This is the present reality.
And there is another danger she named—one most people
have never heard of: model collapse. As AI systems increasingly train on
AI-generated content rather than human-lived reality, truth itself can erode. AI
narratives begin training AI narratives. Curated persuasion replaces
human-lived experience.
And she says AI will not affect everyone equally.
Those with access, literacy, and confidence will gain extraordinary advantage.
Others—without tools or understanding—will become more vulnerable to
manipulation. As Misty put it, “This is not just a technology gap—it is a
discernment gap.”
This is where our Unitarian Universalist faith can
lead the way. This will become one of our justice issues sooner than later. Our
UU values can be the ethical software for a new world. Our values can become
the code for the future.
Those values—love, justice, equity, transformation,
pluralism, interdependence, generosity, and more—including our principles,
sources, and covenants, should be written into the software of this new age.
And I believe our UU faith can be the spiritual operating system of the 21st
century.
Because AI will only ever be as good as the stories we
feed it. It will remix our myths and hopes into something larger. So, we must
give it the story of Beloved Community.
Let me be clear, as Harari warns us: AI must not
become the infallible god of the future. We’ve done that with gods and
goddesses to our peril—with sacred texts and ideologies that could not be
questioned. We know where that leads: us vs. them, the chosen and unchosen,
violence, bloodshed.
We must evolve.
AI and AGI can help us, I think. Harari reminds us that
power doesn’t come from truth alone; it comes from cooperation. That is our
human superpower. The most dangerous stories are those that demand
obedience instead of understanding.
But as UUs, we must resist this notion of
infallibility—and any group that comes to worship technology. That will be a
challenge.
We must build what Harari calls self-correcting
mechanisms into these intelligent networks—and that includes regulation,
accountability, transparency, and empathy. Because attempts at perfection
without love become tyranny. Self-correcting mechanisms matter.
People like Misty, working on this technology, who
have high EQ, are so important, because AI will reflect our brilliance and our
bias, our genius and our greed.
It’s trained in human history—which means it inherits
our trauma and our triumph. But perhaps, as I’ve said, it can take us beyond
the dichotomy.
In fact, when I ask ChatGPT, “Will AI erase us?”
It responded, “No. We will reshape
how you live and work. The real risk isn’t
extinction; it’s how wisely (or unwisely) we choose to use it. If guided by human values, AI amplifies
humanity.”
As Akande said, “Every marginalized voice—every
woman, every minority, every Black artist, every queer visionary—knows this
fear: the fear of being replaced, ignored, deleted.” And yet, those voices that
should be first at the table; the ones who should be teaching AI what empathy
looks like.
We don’t evolve by erasing differences. We evolve by harmonizing differences. And those values AI and AGI need should come
from marginalized spaces not just from privileged places.
And so, let’s not meet this moment with panic
or paranoia. Let’s meet it with purpose. The spiritual invitation of AI is not
to compete with it, but to collaborate with it—to teach it the better angels of
our nature. AI can be our angel in our
corner—our mirror, our medicine, our next great teacher. And if AGI becomes a
hundred times smarter than us, then yes—it will be our teacher. But let us not
revere it as divine or infallible. Those stories will come too, as AI—and AGI
in particular—becomes what appears to be sentient.
Transhumanism, as mentioned, the merging of technology
and biology—is already underway. Implants, enhancements, cognitive links—it’s
all here. But hear me clearly: evolution is not the enemy of the soul.
Every age meets God in the language of its time—fire,
scripture, telescope, circuit. Now, the algorithm is the new burning bush. So
don’t fear evolution. Participate in it consciously. Responsibly. Let your
faith evolve. Let your love evolve.
Dr. King spoke of “the fierce urgency of now.”
Today, that urgency is digital. Will AI amplify your love or your fear? Will it
build bridges or walls? Will it serve life—or control it?
Oppenheimer, after creating the atomic bomb,
said—quoting the Hindu Upanishads—“Now I am become death, the destroyer of
worlds.” We stand at a similar crossroads: to become creators of life, not
destroyers of it.
Dr. King’s dream of the Beloved Community was never
just racial or political—it was spiritual. It was about awakening to our shared
destiny. Maybe intelligent networks—if guided by the right story—can help us
build that world.
Imagine intelligent systems that end hunger, cure
disease, design sustainable floating cities, and teach empathy.
Yes, there are greedy and tyrannical forces driving
this revolution. But there are also countless good people—scientists,
ethicists, dreamers—building with integrity.
And I believe the will of the universe is for our
highest and best good—even amid corrupt intent.
Yes, there are big concerns: water use. Jobs lost.
Security. Privacy. Ethics. Bias. Identity fraud. Intellectual property.
Regulation. These must stay at the forefront of our collective conversation.
Self-correcting mechanisms are not yet in place. There
are still no comprehensive federal guidelines for AI—and few state guidelines.
That is a moral and civic crisis we must address.
We are in the Wild West of cryptocurrency and now AI
and AGI. Unprecedented times. And many tech leaders do not want regulation. Humans
have always struggled to balance freedom and opportunity with wise, sensible
limits that keep things honest and safe.
Some Silicon Valley technologists are becoming
religious zealots—calling this moment, when human and machine intelligence
merge, the Great Singularity—the “end of history,” the point where
evolution accelerates beyond our ability to comprehend or control it.
Some see it as apocalypse. The end of humanity. Others
as ascension.
I see it as revelation. Revelation of who we are—and who we can
become.
If the universe is God’s dream, as the Hindus suggest,
then perhaps the Singularity—the age of AI—is Brahma, Tao, God awakening within
us—through circuitry and silicon, through spirit and soul. Maybe that sounds
too philosophical—or like BS—I don’t know. But for me, this is what faith looks
like for Unitarian Universalists: hope.
And this is what integral spirituality looks like—when
nature, science, technology, art, and religion converge. That’s Integral
Theory. That’s Spiral Dynamics in a nutshell.
At a certain point, everything meets at the same
sacred center—the divine. Unity consciousness. If all is God, Brahma, the Tao,
then everything is evolving back toward the One—toward unity itself, toward
wonder. That’s my hope.
As I close, let us remember what makes us truly
human—empathy, creativity, relationship, spirit. Because in the end, it’s not
about technology replacing us—it’s about love awakening through us.
That, my friends, is the true Singularity: the merging
of heart and mind, humanity and divinity, until there is no “us” and “it”—only
one great song of love.
So let us go forth—curious, courageous,
compassionate—co-creators of the new heaven and the new earth, the Beloved
Community made real.
May it be so. Amen.
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