When the machine issues fatwas and the cleric falls silent

In her article in Financial Times, Rana Foroohar—author of Don’t Be Evil: How Big Tech Betrayed Its Founding Principles—and All of Us—leads a collective reflection on how Christians, particularly Catholics, are responding to the rise of artificial intelligence. Yet the discussion isn’t about the technology itself, but about the believers’ reaction to it. That, in itself, is a bias: the machine isn’t interrogated—only those who fear it are.

Catholics, as Foroohar notes, form the largest voting bloc in the United States. Pope Francis called for AI to be “put at the service of humanity.” The new Pope, Leo XIV, is reportedly preparing his first encyclical on artificial intelligence. Religious think tanks are now examining how AI affects family, labour, and faith. There are calls to regulate AI use among children and even restrict “AI companions.”

But the deeper question remains unasked: Does faith itself change when the machine begins to speak?

We find a hint of the answer, as well as a warning, in the words of Dr Ximian Simeon, a divinity researcher. “Theologians must confront the ethical consequences of AI on religious practice, because AI redefines moral agency itself.” Yet in religious thought, moral responsibility is not just about decision-making—it’s about understanding consequences. Machines don’t feel guilt. They don’t repent. They don’t fear judgment. Can they be treated as moral agents? This is where the fracture between technology and faith begins.

Marius Dorobantu Professor of Religious Beliefs and Ethics writes:

“The theological questions raised by intelligent machines are not technical but existential: Can AI participate in creation? Does it belong in the story of salvation?” In Christian theology, creativity is divine. Creation is not mere production. When a machine writes a poem, paints an image, or composes music, it doesn’t create—it imitates. But is imitation enough to unsettle the idea of man as vicegerent? Perhaps not. But the anxiety is real.

READ: Pope says Israel still does not accept two-states, but Palestinian state is only solution

Mark Graves whose research focuses on the intersection of artificial intelligence (AI), ethics, and spirituality from computational, psychological, warns:

“Creative AI poses a theological challenge: Is creativity exclusive to humans?” In religious thought, creativity is tied to intention. And intention is a spiritual act. Machines do not intend. They produce. Is that enough to undermine the concept of intention in faith? Perhaps not. But the question is no longer theoretical.

We also know that granting CEOs of tech giants such power over our lives is akin to making them gods—and it’s clear these gods offer no future. Many now find themselves unexpectedly drawn to older gods they thought they had outgrown. Suddenly, ancient beliefs seem to offer something more hopeful—something divine, yet untouchable.

These questions are not asked lightly. Nor do they ignore the risks of such developments. But compared to the alternative—AI unregulated politically and unrestricted spiritually—many people, across deep divides, may come to see public-facing religion and active policy as the safer, more unifying path.

The deferred Islamic question

Are major Islamic institutions—Al-Azhar, the jurisprudential councils, or religious ministries—engaging with how AI affects the believer’s relationship with faith? Fatwas still focus on AI in education or preaching, but rarely touch the core question: Can a machine issue a fatwa?

In Islamic tradition, reason is not just a tool—it’s a condition for moral responsibility. Intention is not a detail—it’s the essence of action. Ijtihad is a human act, not an algorithmic one. Can AI perform ijtihad? Issue rulings? Teach theology? Can it write a Friday sermon? Can it be consulted on doctrinal matters? Does it disrupt the bond between man and God when it speaks with a synthetic voice?

These questions are rarely asked—not because Muslims aren’t thinking, but because religious institutions have yet to engage seriously with the technology. AI is already used in education, da’wah, translation, and religious content management. But is it being interrogated? Challenged? Understood?

READ: Israel operating ‘de facto policy’ of torture against Palestinians, UN finds

We cannot expect a direct answer from Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, a religious figure who lives in chosen seclusion, far from media and modern technology. Yet millions of Shia Muslims voluntarily follow his rulings and consider them final in matters of faith and life. This raises a broader question: Can AI engage with this kind of spiritual authority? Can it replicate it? Compete with it? Reshape it?

Sistani is not alone. A long list of religious leaders from various Islamic sects form living authorities—yet remain silent in the face of technology.

In the end: Who thinks on behalf of faith?

AI does not threaten faith because it is a machine. It threatens faith because it thinks on behalf of the human. And when AI begins to think for the believer, the unasked questions emerge: Is faith still a free act? Is ijtihad still human? Does the relationship between man and God still pass through reason—or through code?

In the West, theology is beginning to stir. In the East, silence still reigns. But silence does not protect faith. It leaves it exposed to a machine that neither believes nor disbelieves—but persuades.

OPINION: From London to New York: The moral misunderstanding of Muslims

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.