We will face risk. We will take risks. That’s why I came up with five tenets of risk to help us understand and navigate risk with God.

Our culture is fascinated by new ideas, especially when it comes to interpreting our lives. Rarely do we see the danger in embracing the next bright, shiny offering for how we see ourselves, God, or the story we find ourselves in.

Even in Paradise, Adam and Eve couldn’t avoid risk. They would either risk trusting God or they would risk the serpent’s promise that they could become gods. The problem wasn’t with risk itself...but with whom they would trust and how they would proceed.

The fact that we’re continually caught off guard when turbulence hits reveals our expectation that each day should go smoothly. We base our schedule on best-case scenarios and then are shocked when anything derails our perfectly laid plans.

What if everything we thought we knew about risk was wrong or only partial? What if the real problem was never risk itself—but our broken relationship with it and our go-to reaction to it? If so, the best path forward is to set aside our past assumptions and begin anew.

How do you typically react when facing risk? Here are four ways most people respond. See which best describes your risk footprint.

In a world that spiraling more out of control each day, it’s natural to want to risk little, especially when it comes to our hearts. It feels safer. But is it?

How does God approach risk? In the New York Times bestselling book, Wild at Heart, John Eldredge describes it this way:

We aren’t asked to risk by One unfamiliar with the concept. God risks in love, and invites us to do the same.

Some get an adrenaline rush from risk-taking while others run at the first sign of risk. Regardless of what we think of risk, it’s an unavoidable part of our lives.

We’ve spent the last two months looking at the clash between the real and the artificial. The question now is what part will we play in this unfolding cosmic drama? The answer, in large part, depends on how we view risk.

One of my dad’s expressions was, “It is what it is.”

We look at the world and see the wrong ideas and voices gaining momentum while the people and desires of God are mocked and silenced. The trajectory to a plastic, techno future seems unstoppable and inevitable, so we begin to lose hope.

Progress has led to some wonderful advancements. That’s true. And it’s equally true that all progress doesn’t always make our lives better. And often makes it worse.

We need to stop rationalizing our slide into the artificial. This can happen in big and small ways.

In his book Scary Smart, former Chief Business Officer of Google Mo Gawdat encourages us to continue engaging and investing in AI so we can reprogram it for good things. He warns that it’s up to us if we don’t want to go to war with the machines. There’s that word again... Machines.

I’m not anti-technology. But I also refuse to believe progress is always good. Especially if the new offering requires me to spend more time or be more dependent on the artificial than God.

Neil Postman made this astute comment forty years ago in his classic work, Amusing Ourselves to Death:

I have a friend who wholeheartedly embraces the ongoing advances in artificial intelligence. When I asked her why, she shared her belief that Christians have always been slow to embrace new technology and opportunities. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake when it comes to AI.

In September 2023, a church in Texas held a service written entirely by artificial intelligence. The Austin church described the experiment this way: “This Sunday, we’re entering somewhat uncharted territory by letting ChatGPT create the order of worship, prayers, sermon, liturgy, and even an original song for our 10 a.m. service.”