Introduction
We concluded the first part of this series by asking a critical question: If orality necessitates attending to the spoken and embodied word, then in what ways, if any, does that inform our engagement with our digital lives? Even more specifically, how does what we have learned about orality inform the ways we engage with AI and the emerging digital species that we find ourselves interacting with on a now seemingly daily basis? For many, the world of AI remains intriguing at best and scary at worst; nonetheless, it is necessary for us as mission practitioners but also as followers of Jesus Christ to continue to reflect on such cultural phenomena. We offer the following observations in a spirit of exploration, convinced that rather than orality’s relevance being minimalized by the emergence of such things as ChatGPT, interpersonal oral communication demands more, not less, robust reflection. Orality, understood as communication that relies on the spoken and embodied word, is at the very heart of both the constructive and destructive manifestations of emerging AI applications as new software and platforms seek to emulate human communication. To approach this critical issue, we want to make three observations followed by several implications for the Church.
Orality, understood as communication that relies on the spoken and embodied word, is at the very heart of both the constructive and destructive manifestations of emerging AI applications as new software and platforms seek to emulate human communication.
Communication Observations in a Digit-oral Era
Human communication matters
First digital communication patterns itself after human communication. To put this in perspective, it has to be reiterated that communication is at the heart of our emerging digital way of life as our lives orient around digital devices that foster and facilitate communication with other people and other entities. A phenomenon such as AI is more than communication but it has to be emphasized that communication is at the very heart of all things related to AI. But if this elevates the role of communication in such emerging developments, then we have to acknowledge that, at some level, AI operations are patterned on oral, interpersonal communication between human persons. Wherever such software or application is on the spectrum of sophistication today, each of them, in some way, is ultimately seeking to copycat human communication. People may object, citing the new emergence of platforms such as ChatGPT and Gemini with their heavy reliance on text for prompt and interchange. Nevertheless, the goal of these software apps is not to remain textual reliant.
If we are going to be in partnership with this new digital species (see Microsoft’s Mustafa Suleyman’s TedTalk) the expectation is that AI will continue to master not just spoken commands but oral interchange. And how does AI learn oral communication? It learns by paying attention to how you and I speak. Certainly, AI programs learn speech by being fed voluminous amounts of text and code; but the mastery of human speech comes from practising dialogue with their human creators. Thus, AI is patterning its oral communication after your oral communication.
Curiously, while speech is not necessarily inherent to AI software, AI creators want their programs to learn to speak because humans speak. Oral communication is inherent to humans; thus, as AI programs and applications seek to pattern themselves after human communication, they likewise, prioritize the spoken word. This has implications for the church today.
For example, language sets, in so many ways, the perimeters of human interaction. Thus, the human voices being emulated by the latest AI software matter—whose voice, word selection, syntax, and yes, even pronouns are being listened to, processed, copied, and incorporated into the latest showcase for Apple, Google, or X Holdings. Whoever sets the language defines the boundaries for human–AI interactions. This is critical for us as Christians to take seriously and what many of us overlook is that orality in all its beauty yet ambiguity is right at the heart of this unfolding human-AI conversation.
the human voices being emulated by the latest AI software matter—whose voice, word selection, syntax, and yes, even pronouns are being listened to, processed, copied, and incorporated into the latest showcase for Apple, Google, or X Holdings. Whoever sets the language defines the boundaries for human–AI interactions.
What the church needs is theologically astute men and women who can recognize these complexities within the emerging field of AI technologies and can bring the best of God-thought to bear on these ever-increasing developments. Far from shying away from such engagement, the church needs to commission such theologically minded engineers and IT specialists, recognizing the exponential influence they have and will continue to exert.
But there is an important corollary that deserves mention: digital communication is modeled on human communication just like human communication is modeled on divine communication. To say that another way: human communication is the standard for all AI software and applications. But as Christians, we recognize that human communication is itself not the highest form of communication. Communicating like us is not actually the goal. For we were made in the image of an interpersonal, communicating Trinity—God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And while there are aspects of the divine conversation we will not pretend to comprehend; in Jesus we have a picture of how God communicates within himself and how he communicates with human persons. And the pattern is oral—verbal, embodied exchange between God and humankind. In the face of the almost demi-god status that AI has and will continue to assume, we cannot lose sight of such realities. Ultimately, neither we (nor our descendants) were made for human-AI communication; rather, we were made for divine-human communication (and communion).
Old media matters
Second, new media borrows from old media. While that may initially seem confusing, today’s mediascape has more pre-1500 AD communication features than most of us realize. Consider how today’s technological companies have done a masterful job of making the old look new: hardly anyone makes the connection between scrolling today and the use of ancient manuscripts in ages past. The concept of infinite scrolling that all of us have come to expect as normal in our consumption of modern media is premised on the traditional unrolling of a cylindrical parchment. The ancients scrolled; now, we scroll. Likewise, I wonder how Abraham, Moses, and David would react if someone tried to explain the importance of tablets in our day for almost every sphere of society. I can imagine them responding, ‘Well, of course tablets are important—clay tablets were vital in our society’s communication as well.’ Not incidentally, even the ubiquitous Apple (with a bite missing) on the back of everyone’s device harkens back to a much older story. Recognizing the tendency of some of our favorite technological geniuses—whoever they may be—to draw upon ancient communication practices provides some stabilizing perspective. Yes, the rate of technological change is exhausting, yet there are patterns and lessons to be learned by paying attention to the old ways.
For those not quite convinced that old media forms are the new vogue, consider the contemporary phenomena of emoticons and emojis. What is an emoji but a short-hand digital symbol that conveys meaning, often of an emotive nature? In a very real way, to pull up the emojis selection on your device is to scroll through hundreds of modern-day hieroglyphics—short-hand symbols that convey meaning. Granted, not every Egyptian hieroglyphic may have been emotive in nature, but even a cursory look at some of those ancient symbols is enough to recognize emotions were often being displayed in dramatic and even, at times, embarrassing forms for our modern sensibilities. It turns out that there is very little that is new under the communication sun.
This is significant in light of orality because within certain circles, there persists a particular stigma that orality is old-fashioned and out of touch with modern times. Granted—it’s good for some people but not the fashionable and influential urbanites of today. In response to such thinking, we would suggest that it’s worth noting that our technological giants, lauded for their innovation, have developed a pattern of recycling ancient communication practices, stories, and media more often than perhaps any of us recognize. Ancient is the new modern, which means traditional patterns and practices of communication are at a premium. Aspects of the so-called ‘old-fashioned’ orality are now in demand.
And herein, is where the church has such a rich and beautiful communication history to draw upon for communicating into today’s many and diverse cultural conversations. Whether in liturgies, visual arts, architecture, or song—the church down through the generations has been at the fore of generating creative communication practices and experiences, many that were oral-reliant in deference to their audiences. Rather than relying on Apple and Google to try and impress us with ancient communication practices dressed up in some new iSophisticated packaging, what if the body of Christ re-visited some of its old communication patterns, stories, and practices, asking how they could be repurposed, adapted, or re-displayed for today’s missional communication purposes? Yes, this is already happening in some ways in some contexts. Nevertheless, in the same way that we suggest the church needs to recognize the missional role of IT engineers, could we not also commission artisans of all sorts for the purpose of not just responding to the cultural conversations, but to actually shape them through creative initiatives? For those afraid this might be some call for a minimizing of the biblical text, let us assuage your fears. On the contrary, the scriptures have always been front and center of the church’s media strategies. In the same way, let our contemporary creative initiatives, drawing on historical, liturgical practices continue to flow from and bring people back to the Word of God. This will require robust imaginative and theological engagement; nevertheless, missions, by definition, is the application of God’s Word into new cultural contexts. This is part of our role and responsibility in communicating missionally today.
Image matters
Third, image matters. With the resurgence of phenomena such as emojis, it should come as no surprise that digital media has placed image back into the driver’s seat of contemporary communication. Facebook or Insta feeds are modern-day stained-glass windows, literally showcasing in storyboard format the pantheon of today’s gods and goddesses and the obstacles they have overcome to be worthy of our culture’s adoration. While text is present (at times), these displays of modern-day idols (as they are literally called in some contexts) rely on image, rather than text, to engage their modern-day followers. Notice again the recycling of ancient practice. Just as the images preserved in ancient cathedrals’ stained-glass windows carried a pedagogical role in the life of the community prior to 1500 AD, so images created, shared, and preserved on our digital devices today serve a pedagogical role in shaping and forming the desires and longings of modern-day worshipers.
It is critical to recognize and name that with the accent on image comes the appeal to imagination. These are not text-reliant communication strategies that seek to argue or persuade one to become a follower. Rather, with the repositioning of image to center-stage, the playing field has shifted. Propositional reasoning that appeals to a text has been deauthorized; and image has been invested with an almost unquestionable authority.
As James K.A. Smith discusses at length, this is no more evident than how the vision of the good life is depicted in each of our own contexts. Global brands such as Nike, Coca-Cola, and Apple are not seeking to persuade customers by arguing with well-crafted apologetic discourse that their products are better; rather, visit any one of their websites and experience a vision of human flourishing—the good life as Smith calls it.1 The appeal is to the imagination. But for those wondering if we strayed too far afield, the question emerges: how does the rise of image relate to orality? To state the objection bluntly: Isn’t orality about the spoken word?
The relationship between image and orality deserves further reflection because it returns the scope of discussion to the nature of oral communication. The short answer to how image is connected to orality is through the body. Now this is problematic for some and, in part, why we labored to explain the necessity of understanding orality as communication that relies on the spoken and embodied word in Part 1 of this series.
There is a tendency to get tripped up by tying an understanding of orality too tightly to the aural, associating orality only with the spoken word. The reasoning follows these lines: Orality relates to the spoken, aural word; image (and imagination) has nothing to do with the ear. Thus, they are well beyond orality’s scope. The problem with this narrow understanding of orality is that it truncates oral communication, artificially divorcing voice and body. In a way, it is akin to wanting to discuss digital communication but without talking about the electrical devices involved. As digital communication assumes an electrical device of some kind, so oral communication is predicated on embodiment. If there is no digital device, there is no digital communication. In the same way, if there is no body, there is no oral communication. This recognition helps broaden the generic and limited definition of orality as merely related to the spoken word.
In reality, when two persons participate in an oral interchange, all of the senses are brought to bear on the other person’s body as the brain seeks to make sense of all the data that the senses are perceiving. Thus, while orality includes an aural component, there is also a visual component that is often overlooked in oral communication. At the heart of oral communication is reading the other person’s face—and body language—so as to appropriately respond, reciprocate, or react. Thus, oral communication is never just listening and interpreting airwaves; rather it is a full sensory experience of attempting to incorporate all of the sensory data available which includes aural, but also visual, tactile, olfactory, and, at times, gustatory information. This is the glory of orality—a multi-modal sensory communication experience that provides the possibilities of meaning to be conveyed across any number of sensory channels.
Textual and digital communication can also leverage the advantage of multiple senses when bodies are present but contrary to orality, they allow for disembodiment—where the body is substituted for a text or an electronically powered device. There are advantages to such disembodiment—it allows messages to transcend time and space; however, when the body is substituted or absent, then the possibility of conveying meaning across all the sensory channels is limited or lost altogether.
Such discussion is more technical in nature but we are trying to hold a larger space than perhaps previously considered necessary for the significance of orality in today’s mediascape. It is from within this larger understanding that we can recognize that to discuss image (and its ascension in today’s mediascape) is not to discuss something outside the boundaries of orality as narrowly defined as only aural-centric. Rather, as we recognize the wider relation between orality and the body, we begin to recognize that all sensory perception influences oral dialogue, including the visual. So, what is an image but a form of non-textual-reliant communication that is appealing to the body’s visual sense?
We suggest that from within a more nuanced understanding of orality, the relation between orality and image becomes clearer. If this be the case and it is also true that non-textual reliant forms for communication such as image have premiere place in so many of today’s cultures, then we suddenly are confronted with the conclusion that orality, as properly understood to incorporate both word and body, relates right across the communication strategies of our day.
Does Orality Matter in Today’s World?
While we have mentioned several implications for the church along the way, it is essential to bring the conversation back to the church’s communication theology and practice today. Does orality, understood in a more holistic sense as incorporating spoken and embodied aspects, matter in today’s world of AI realities? In light of both Part 1 and this article, we want to suggest it does on several accounts.
The body matters
First, as we explored through our brief consideration of the biblical pattern of communication, the body matters. The typical paradigm for divine communication is oral—the spoken and embodied message as practiced and lived out by both the prophets of old and Jesus himself. This raises questions for the church today. What is the church going to do about the body in an AI world where so many communication practices lend themselves towards disembodiment? How do we compensate—if we can—for the lack of embodiment in new worship communities and practices such as digital church? What about the means of grace or spiritual disciplines? Can they all be facilitated as apps on my phone or is something lost when my body is not necessarily engaged? Is disembodiment actually the highest good (as would seem to be the end-goal of some AI software and applications) or could the church offer a sanctuary for the body, a space where bodies are still valued, honored, and respected as an essential part of the human person?
What is the church going to do about the body in an AI world where so many communication practices lend themselves towards disembodiment?
One can recognize that such questions, when situated within the wider framework of oral communication that includes spoken and embodied practice, situate issues of orality front and center for the needed conversations the church must be facilitating regarding today’s communication realities.
Language matters
This does not need to be discussed again at length but as AI applications and new digital species emerge, communication and language will be at the forefront of any new developments. Digital communication, at so many levels, mirrors human communication which means that orality matters. Thus, those who influence the language that is informing these communication and media evolutions hold incredible influence. What if the church was a repository—a sanctuary for language? This means, among other things, that the church would not just watch passively but take the lead in speaking into these conversations and offering language that is good, true, and beautiful. However, the church needs to lead not only at a societal level, but also at an engineering one.
When the Communist Iron Curtain collapsed in the early 1990s, there was an acceleration of activity within mission circles to seize the moment and get as many mission-minded people into the former Soviet Union nations as possible. No one knew how long the church had to act. Such an event had massive socio-political and economic implications and the church came together to capitalize on the moment. Might we be in another such moment—when the church needs to rise up and send forth men and women to actively participate in speaking and embodying the kingdom amidst the techno-political and socio-economic realities in an AI-infused communicative world?
History matters
As the technological powerhouses of our day resort to incorporating ancient communication practices into their new communication strategies and market plans, traditional highly oral-reliant ways of communicating are back in vogue. Thankfully, the church fathers incorporated texts into their communication praxis, yet so often the pattern of engagement was to appeal to the imagination of their communities through practices that relied on images, the body, and the spoken (or sung) word.
It is worth imagining, what if the church was a keeper of the records, a sanctuary of history wherein we acknowledged our own heritage—yes, our failures, but also our own powerful and, at times, fruitful communication practices—and from that place of historical experience, offered fresh communication strategies? What if rather than sheepishly borrowing from social media, we returned to the old paths that so often intentionally incorporated oral means of engaging audiences? Could the church boldly draw upon its historic and creative communication practices in establishing new norms, rather than always needing to play catch up to the media giants of our day?
Wisdom matters
This directly relates to the church’s history. While some might be reluctant to look backwards because of the church’s many failures, it is precisely in acknowledging the historical record in all of its glory and shame that the church has the potential to become a site of and voice for wisdom.
In one of his introductory videos discussing the challenges of AI technologies for application in self-driving vehicles, renowned computer scientist Andrew Ng acknowledges how complicated it is for robotic technologies to properly interpret human hand gestures accurately.2 This is because such gestures can mean so many different things in so many different contexts. Note again here how central the body is to such discussions—specifically how to properly interpret the body’s role in the human communication process. This taps into the very nexus of orality—as the significance of oral communication’s embodied, multi-sensory nature becomes apparent. Part of the complication for AI-powered technologies is that the ability to properly interpret an array of variables which may include action, symbol, voice, and environment tends to operate on an intuitive register rather than a strictly cognitive one. And it is very hard, even for someone as gifted as Ng, to encode intuition.
One of the gifts of human beings is the capacity for wisdom, the ability to intuit and properly interpret—anticipate even meaning-filled realities. This typically necessitates, among other things, experience, teachability, and humility (as well as the Holy Spirit). One of the questions that AI technologies will have to address (or admit) relates to its capacity (or non-capacity) for wisdom. Can a platform that boasts near omniscience offer wisdom? To be clear, we are not talking about behavior predictability. Assuredly AI can predict certain human behaviors if fed enough data. Rather we are asking about the wisdom that originates through the fear of the Lord. Does AI know anything about the fear of the Lord? Such inquiry will influence whether AI can generate wisdom. Could this be one of those areas, referred to earlier, where the IT specialists may be pushing the limits of AI technologies?
To use the same language, what if the church was a sanctuary of wisdom—a place where wisdom, discernment, and inspiration is sought after, cultivated, and treasured, but also freely shared? This is an area that deserves much further reflection in all of our ongoing conversations regarding our digital life.
Conclusion: Orality matters
The church has the opportunity to be a sanctuary for true communion—communication between God and human persons but also between human persons and other human persons. This will require creating space and respect for the body but also bringing the best of our Christian communication practices to bear in engaging the digital realities of our AI world. This will necessitate a reconsideration of all things oral. Such reconsideration does not need to be a threat to the gifts of digital technologies and media; rather we are proposing a reframing of what such gifts can and cannot afford. As Christians called into every sphere of society, we cannot escape digital communication in today’s mediascape—it is here to stay. Nevertheless, the Church cannot faithfully engage our increasingly digitoral-reliant world without recognizing the significance of orality.