Companionship

One of the great things about studying language is that you get to see how the use of words can change over time, yet still reflect some element that stays the same. The roots and origins of words often give us insight into their meanings. I am learning Latin, and in class my teacher recently pointed out the oxymoronic name of the “AI Companion” tool that his computer is pushing him to use. The English word “companion” has Latin roots: the prefix “com” signifies something that is “with” or “together” (think of the words communicate, compare, etc.). The prefix “com” combined with the Latin word “panis,” meaning bread, indicates that a “com-pan-ion” is a “bread-fellow” or “messmate,” someone that you eat bread with. Related to the word companion is “accompany.” Companions accompany one another: they share common goals and struggles, and they eat together and have fellowship at one table. There is a certain sense of equality among companions: companions are peers, friends, those who are welcome at your table because there is some kind of unifying connection and common purpose. Therefore, my Latin teacher argued, one can never truly have an AI companion, for one can never have table fellowship with a machine. The machine cannot connect with us by sharing a common meal because it cannot eat. This goes much deeper than the inability to consume organic resources and convert them into energy. This points to a greater difference between human nature and the nature of a machine.

AI, or if we want to speak more precisely, Language Learning Models (LLMs) such as ChatGPT and Grok, are not human because they are a creation of man. No matter how sophisticated an LLM is, it will not take on God’s image. In the garden Adam was made in God’s image and likeness. This is what makes him unique and separates him from all other created beings. When Eve was made with Adam’s rib, she became his helper, or companion. She shared the food of the Garden with him; but when they ate of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of Good and Evil, they separated themselves from God’s goodness and plunged themselves and their decedents into the darkness of sin.

Yet this was not the end, because as we know the Son of God took on our flesh to seek out the lost. In Christ man was united with God, and that Man Jesus Christ had table fellowship with sinners. He ate and drank with sinners, and in eating with us He became our Companion and accompanies us on the way. He even does more than eat with us; He sets a table before us, even in the presence of our enemies. He gathers us together at the Eucharistic feast, being both the Host and the One who was Sacrificed. By partaking of the heavenly Bread that is our Lord’s Body we enter table fellowship with our Lord and are given strength to see us through our troubles. We are given forgiveness for our sins and union with God and with the Church. At the Lord’s Table we receive His gracious gifts and are made companions with Christ.

This is what an “AI Companion” cannot do. Technology can bring good things to our world, but it cannot deliver us from all evil. Some look to technological developments to solve all our problems. They ascribe a godlike power to highly sophisticated machines and see a future dominated by LLMs, where we have perfect chat companions tailored to our own unique desires and a host of scientific breakthroughs based on technology. Those who look for deliverance from these machines will always find themselves disappointed, for sin and the consequences of sin will always remain. Only Jesus can heal the wounds that the Fall brought upon our world. Nothing changes the fact that Christ is still Lord, still has control over His Creation. The God- Man took on our flesh to draw us closer to Him, to remove our sin and be our savior. Our Lord suffered and died, something that no machine can do because it is not alive to die in the first place. No machine can take the place of Jesus, for in taking on our human nature He became our Companion and accompanies us to our home with Him in Heaven.

-Pastor Pope