From the Editor’s Desk

Apr 25, 2025

By Patricia Pereira
In his April prayer intention, Pope Francis asked the world to reflect deeply on the future of artificial intelligence: “Let us pray that the rapid progress of artificial intelligence may not increase inequalities but help respect the dignity of and benefit everyone.” His words arrive at a time of both marvel and mourning, as AI becomes increasingly present in our lives — sometimes in ways that reflect the best of human innovation, and tragically, sometimes in ways that reflect our worst impulses.

Just this month in Johor, a disturbing case made headlines: a 16-year-old boy was arrested for allegedly using AI to generate pornographic images of his schoolmates and alumni. Thousands of miles away in India, women are being blackmailed and extorted after their photos were doctored using similar technologies. These aren’t isolated events —they’re part of a rising tide. Sexual grooming, manipulation, and digital exploitation are increasing, even as most of us are just beginning to understand what AI can do.

It is hard to hold on to hope when confronted with such darkness. And yet, as Catholics, this is precisely what we are called to do.

This year marks the Jubilee Year of Hope — a time to rediscover the radical promise of the Gospel: that even in suffering, Christ is risen. The Resurrection was not the end of pain, but it was the end of despair. In this sacred season, we are reminded that hope is not passive optimism — it is a decision to believe in the power of light even while standing in the shadows.

And so we must ask: what does it mean to protect innocence in the age of AI? How do we become resurrection people in a world where even images of our children can be weaponised?

The danger is real — not just in schools, but in churches, homes, and within digital spaces that feel beyond reach. We want our children to grow up in trust, not in fear. But trust, today, must be rooted in vigilance and truth. Just as Christ warned his disciples to be “wise as serpents and innocent as doves,” we too must learn how to engage with the world as it is, not as we wish it were.

The Church is beginning to act. In many parishes, child protection talks are being introduced, and safeguarding ministries are growing. These are important first steps, but they are not enough. We must educate ourselves and our communities — clergy, parents, educators, and children alike — about the emerging threats of AI misuse, and the ethical responsibilities that come with using these tools.

As people of faith, we must also do more than respond — we must anticipate. We need to build digital literacy into our catechesis and sacramental preparation. We need to teach not just the dangers, but the dignity of the human person, the sacredness of the body, and the inviolability of consent. These are not just secular values — they are deeply Catholic truths, rooted in our belief that every human is made in the image and likeness of God.

We must also model a better way. AI is not inherently evil — it can also be a force for tremendous good. But just as fire can warm a home or burn it to the ground, technology must be stewarded with wisdom and reverence. As Pope Francis urges, we must ensure that progress does not come at the cost of the vulnerable.

The Resurrection calls us to new life. But that life is not free of wounds. Jesus rose with the marks of crucifixion still in His hands and side. In the same way, we must not hide the wounds in our communities, especially those inflicted on the young. We must name them, confront them, and work to heal them. Resurrection is not denial — it is transformation.

This Jubilee Year invites us to be people of hope — not naïve, but courageous. Hope is telling a young person that they are more than what has been done to them. It’s equipping a parent with the tools to protect their family online. It’s a priest or youth minister listening with humility, not judgment. It’s a Church that stands not only in prayer, but in action.

In a world where innocence can be digitally stripped, let us become guardians of the sacred. Let us be the hands that protect, the voices that teach, and the hearts that hope. For Christ is risen — and with Him, the promise that even in the darkest tombs, new life can begin.