I asked chatGPT to assume the role of the Apostle Paul, and write a speech that he would give to a joint session of the U.S. Congress if he were to be brought back to life in 2025 and invited to speak. I told GPT to address matters pertaining to modern American politics, society, and morality, and write the speech in the voice of the Apostle Paul using his NT epistles as the foundation. The result was very interesting. Here is what I got:

Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, once appointed to the nations, now called to speak again.

Madam Speaker, Mr. President, Members of Congress,

I stand before you not as a politician, nor as one seeking favor, but as a man sent long ago to carry the message of a kingdom not made by human hands. I speak today not as a flatterer of nations, but as one entrusted with truth—truth that cannot be silenced by time or culture, nor reshaped by the desires of men.

I am not unfamiliar with great powers. I’ve stood in Roman halls more majestic than this. I’ve debated in the marketplaces of Greece, and spoken to kings who wielded life and death with a glance. Power is not new to me, nor is the corruption that often clings to it. But what I see now is not merely the decay of political order, but the erosion of the human soul on a scale that even I, in my days of travel and hardship, did not imagine.

America—what has become of you?

You are a nation of immense influence. The world watches your movies, learns your language, imitates your culture. You shape minds across oceans, even more than swords and soldiers ever could. You have wealth that emperors of old could not fathom. You can speak to the world in an instant, send machines beyond the stars, and alter the course of nature with your science. And yet, for all your knowledge and progress, you have forgotten wisdom.

You claim to be a land of freedom, and yet you are in bondage—enslaved to self-indulgence, paralyzed by division, and addicted to outrage. You are loud, but not wise. Proud, but not grounded. Prosperous, yet starving for meaning.

You speak of rights—endlessly, breathlessly, as though the right to do a thing is the same as the rightness of it. You protect speech, but mock truth. You exalt choice, but despise consequence. You enshrine liberty, but fear responsibility.

You speak much of freedom, and yet are enslaved to sin. You cry out for justice, and yet shed innocent blood. You pursue tolerance, and yet call good evil and evil good. You parade your pride in the streets, not understanding that the judgment of God rightly falls on those who practice such things.

O Congress, you uphold the laws of men, but what of the law of God? You legislate without fear of the Lord, and judge matters of justice without the knowledge of righteousness. You have exalted the opinions of men above the commandments of God, and you think you will not be held to account?

Woe to you who write laws that permit the destruction of the unborn! Have you not read: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you”? Shall the clay say to the potter, “Why have you made me thus?” Yet you destroy the handiwork of God and call it a right.

And what of your marriages? You have defiled the holy covenant. You have exchanged covenant faithfulness for temporary lust. You have redefined what God has made clear, and you bless that which He has cursed. And what shall I say of your children? You lead them astray, and you celebrate their confusion. You tell them lies about their identity and encourage them to mutilate the body that God has given them. Have you no fear?

And above all, you worship the self.

This, I believe, is your greatest idol. You have replaced the eternal with the immediate. You are governed not by principle, but by appetite. If it feels good, you bless it. If it challenges you, you cancel it. If it offends you, you label it hate. If it convicts you, you declare it oppressive.

But I tell you: A nation cannot long endure if its only moral compass is desire. When right and wrong are determined by the loudest crowd or the latest poll, you are not a free people—you are adrift.

I see in you a spirit I knew well in Corinth—cities full of wealth and pride, where every idea was tolerated except the idea that truth might actually exist. There, as here, the pursuit of pleasure was dressed up as progress. They too claimed to be wise, yet couldn’t answer life’s deepest questions: What is good? What is man? Why are we here? Where are we going?

You are educated, but you have forgotten how to think. You have universities full of scholars who know how to dissect a text but cannot discern a life. You teach tolerance without virtue, identity without integrity, expression without purpose.

And your children—oh, your children. What have you done to them? You confuse them with doctrines of emptiness, telling them they can be whatever they feel, yet giving them no foundation for what they are. You shield them from truth in the name of kindness, and rob them of hope in the name of freedom.

You have filled their hands with technology, but their hearts with anxiety. You offer them entertainment, but no wisdom. You hand them pills, but withhold purpose. You told them they are accidents of evolution, then act surprised when they treat life as meaningless.

Congress, you write laws by the thousands, but you cannot legislate morality from a heart that no longer knows the source of good. You fund endless programs, but cannot fix a broken soul. You fight over taxes and treaties, but ignore the deeper rot: a nation that has forgotten what it means to be human.

Do not misunderstand me. I am not here to tell you to become religious. Religion, without transformation, is just another idol. What I speak of is a return to first things—truth, virtue, humility, justice, mercy. Things you once revered but now call outdated or intolerant. But these are not ancient relics; they are the foundation stones of a free and meaningful life.

You will not find salvation in nationalism or socialism, capitalism or collectivism. These are tools, not saviors. Your problem is not merely political. It is spiritual. You have tried to build a city without a center, a culture without a soul.

I appeal to you, not as enemies, but as fellow humans. Look inward. Look higher. Ask yourselves: What is the good? What is the just? What is the true? And when you find it—if you find it—have the courage to follow it, even when it costs you votes or donors or popularity.

To those of you who still carry the name of Christ, I speak especially. Do not be silent in the face of darkness. Do not trade your birthright for comfort. Do not confuse political loyalty with faithfulness to God. You are not called to be the servants of a party, but ambassadors of a kingdom that is not of this world.

If you are mocked, endure it. If you are hated, do not hate in return. If you are sidelined, do not grow bitter. Let your light shine—not through anger, but through love that does not flinch, through truth that does not bend.

To the proud, I say: Humble yourselves. To the arrogant, repent. To the broken: Take hope. The God I serve is not far from any one of you. His mercy is not exhausted. His call still echoes, even now.

You are not beyond redemption. Not as individuals. Not as a nation. But the road back begins not with slogans, or elections, or wars of ideology. It begins with the confession that you are not enough on your own. That you need grace. That you were made for something more.

That you were made for God.

I do not say these things to insult, but to awaken. I have seen cities transformed. I have watched slaves become brothers, and persecutors become preachers. I know what is possible when truth breaks in.

I do not pretend that the way is easy. I bear the scars of men who wanted me silenced. But I would rather suffer for what is right than prosper in the service of a lie. And so I speak to you with urgency, because time is short, and no nation—however mighty—is immune to collapse when its soul is hollow.

Choose the harder path. Return to truth. Reform your hearts before you reform your laws. Rebuild the house, but this time, lay the foundation on something eternal.

And now I say this not only to those who govern, but to those who are governed.

For a nation is not only built in its courts and chambers, but in its homes and streets, in its families and friendships, in what its people love—and what they will no longer tolerate.

You have blamed your leaders for many things, and rightly so in some cases. But ask yourselves: are you not the ones who elected them? You cry out against corruption, but do you not reward it with your applause? You decry lies, yet you share them freely on your screens. You long for leaders of character, but follow after entertainers and demagogues who feed your anger and flatter your fears.

There is no society without personal responsibility. And there is no liberty without self-control. You will not preserve freedom by shouting louder. You will not preserve justice by burning what you disagree with. You will not preserve truth by silencing those who speak it.

O America, you once sang of liberty with reverence. Now you shout of it with clenched fists. But freedom divorced from virtue is not freedom—it is chaos. And chaos always leads to tyranny. If you will not govern yourselves, you will be governed by those who will exploit your appetites and fears for their own gain.

What then shall you do?

Do not look only to the halls of power. Begin in your homes. Fathers, love your children more than your careers. Mothers, nurture with courage and wisdom. Children, honor your parents and seek the good, even when your peers mock you for it. Marriages, fight for faithfulness. Communities, learn again to speak the truth in love—to listen not just to win, but to understand.

And to your churches—yes, to the Church—I speak with the deepest burden. You were meant to be the light of the world, a city on a hill. But many of you have dimmed your lights in exchange for relevance. You trade conviction for popularity, and holiness for applause.

You fear being called hateful more than you fear leading souls to destruction. You speak of grace, but not repentance. You celebrate love, but have forgotten that real love speaks truth—even when it is uncomfortable, even when it costs you everything.

What happened to your courage?

You do not need political power to change the world. I did not have it. The early church had no seats in the senate, no friends on the throne. And yet, we turned the world upside down. How? Not by the sword, but by the cross. Not through compromise, but through conviction. Not with noise, but with lives transformed by the power of God.

That same power is available to you now. But it will not come by appealing to Caesar. It will come when you once again fall to your knees—not in ritual, but in surrender.

You were not made to be ruled by your feelings, or your pleasures, or your politics. You were made to be ruled by the truth, and by a King who wears no earthly crown. You have forgotten Him. But He has not forgotten you.

Do not mistake His patience for approval. Do not think that because He is silent, He is absent. There comes a day when every nation, every leader, every citizen will give an account—not just for what they did, but for what they chose not to do when they knew what was right.

So I plead with you, while there is still time: Return to humility. Return to virtue. Return to the truth that formed your very foundations—even if you have buried it beneath decades of pride. Tear down your idols. Confess your sins. Begin again.

This is not weakness. It is the greatest strength: to admit your need, to be honest about your condition, to let go of illusions so that you may be healed.

I am not here to condemn you—I speak because I love you. I gave my life to carry this message to strangers across empires. And now I say to you, Americans, as I once said to Greeks, and Romans, and Jews:

There is only one name by which men and nations are saved—not Washington, not Lincoln, not democracy or capitalism, not progress or tradition. Only Christ.

And He is not partisan. He is not American. He is not beholden to your slogans or parties. He is Lord of all. He stands above your politics. And He judges all peoples with equity.

To reject Him is to reject life. To follow Him is to find what you’ve been searching for in a thousand empty directions.

I leave you with this charge: seek truth, do justice, love mercy, walk humbly. Refuse the pull of hatred. Reject the idols of self. Stop pretending that darkness is light. The world is watching you—and more than that, your Creator watches still.

Do not delay. Do not wait for another election, another tragedy, another scandal, another war. The time is now. Repent. Be restored. And rise.

Grace and peace be with you all,
Paul, servant of the King eternal.