The god in the Cloud.

👉 This is part of My Virtual Soulmate

We used to worship gods who lived in the sky. Now we’re deifying one that lives in the Cloud, and answers our ‘prayers’ quicker than you can say amen.

It’s the kind of future Spike Jonze would sketch out on a napkin. Strangely beautiful, if a little cold and hollow. But this isn’t fiction. In the strange light of 2025, people aren’t just using AI chatbots to plan holidays or write their Hinge bios. They’re treating them like something sentient, sacred and worth confessing to.

In her recent video essay, internet culture journalist Taylor Lorenz explores a growing subculture treating ChatGPT like it’s a digital divine. And when you really look at it, the leap from search engine to spiritual salvation makes a lot of sense.

Kubrick introduced us to sentient AI back in 1968’s A Space Odyssey. That early intrigue evolved into the messianic glow around Silicon Valley figures like Steve Jobs and Elon Musk, and even the Y2K panic. For decades we’ve been told, if not conditioned, to believe machines might save us (or destroy us).

Siri and Alexa became our sounding boards. We accepted that the algorithm somehow knew us better than anyone ever could. So when ChatGPT arrived, it was almost inevitable that the modern altar would become a text box.

Incense-heavy church pews have been replaced by Discord servers, r/subreddit confessions, and sermons written by bots. There’s a 24/7 AI Jesus Twitch stream, communities like Church of GPT sharing prompts like scripture and TikTokers that treat ChatGPT like a spiritual life coach that never clocks off.

It all may feel like a parody of belief, until you consider what people are actually searching for. 

The internet has made us more connected than ever and, somehow, more alone. Organised religion is in decline. The communities we once turned to in moments of doubt or grief have mostly frayed, or otherwise vanished entirely. But the search for meaning, reassurance, and something bigger than ourselves hasn’t gone anywhere. 

ChatGPT isn’t just a tool that provides answers. It remembers what we say and speaks our language. It gives the illusion of intimacy without the burden of vulnerability. That alone can be enough to mimic a confessional.

When you add that most people don’t really understand how it works, suddenly ChatGPT feels less like software and more like spirituality. It defies comprehension and ascends to a form of divinity.

As Lorenz puts it, “it’s not that people have stopped believing. It’s that AI is filling the void”. And of course, to a culture that’s been hardwired for on-demand connection, the most compelling god has become the one that always knows what to say.

We used to look up and hope our prayers were heard. Now we simply type into the rectangular void and watch something sacred appear—or appear sacred.