Robopriest. Germany's answer to the future of faith

I can't stop watching the video (I hit replay 11 times). I'm not sure if it's my odd appreciation for the rhythm and lilt of the German language, the benevolently holy message emanating from a machine whose nose light hits every colour spectrum in the rainbow or the incongruous eyebrow movements that read surprised and angry in equal parts once the automated blessing starts. It could be the "divine" beams of light that shine from the pious apparatus' upraised mechanical hands. Likely, it's an intoxicating (and decidedly comedic) visual, auditory and spiritual salad of the whole display that grabs me. It's all a little Zoltar-esque (if I can reference the earlier works of Tom Hanks), but I can't get enough.    

To understand why I (and now you) are watching a Robopriest confer divine blessings in German on your screened device, we have to go back 500 hundred years to a little village one decisive (read fateful) Halloween night. A possessed figure clad only in the starkest black clothes walks through the streets with a hammer and giant metal spike. The horrors that eventually followed are worthy of any gore-heavy slasher flick. Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-five Theses to the door of a Catholic church in Wittenberg and triggered a fresh avalanche (the Crusades had already happened) of Christian reform, debate, war, bloodshed and torture. BlessU-2, the cyber clergyman, was designed to mark the 500th anniversary of advanced tech (Gutenberg's printing press) bringing religious reflection to the masses, for better or worse.

Stephan Krebs of the Protestant church in Hesse and Nassau hopes BlessU-2 will start a new debate  from the very same German town Luther made famous (hopefully this will be a less violent discourse, although we're already bracing globally for the robopocalypse). The conversation Krebs hopes to initiate this time centres around the applications of AI as it intersects in beneficial ways with the future of the church. "We wanted people to consider if it is possible to be blessed by a machine, or if a human being is needed," he told media.

Outfitted with a touchscreen chest, two robot arms and a static head complete with exuberant facial expressions like pixelated lips (and that rainbow nose and the wacky brows), BlessU-2 can shine down god's holy grace on you in a male or female voice. You can also get your choice of a German, English, French, Spanish or Polish blessing. BlessU-2 will even give you your blessing to go on a printout. Just ask. Ye shall receive. Don't hold your breathe for an Our Father though, BlessU-2 is hardwired Protestant.

If, in fact, "the idea is to provoke debate" as Krebs says, it's working. "People from the street are curious, amused and interested. They are really taken with it, and are very positive". Still, there are mumbles of dissention within the church. "Some people think we want to replace human pastors with machines," says Krebs. To be fair, religious work isn't exactly a booming industry. The job market is already pretty rough (for everyone) without having to compete with machines that never eat or sleep, can flawlessly regurgitate data, including scriptural minutiae AND are programmed to save your soul. If you're a believer in bot reform, of course. Botestantism?

BlessU-2 isn't the first holy synthetic we've seen. Buddhist's actually got there first. In a temple on the edge of Beijing there's a tiny robot monk that can chant mantras or explain the basic tenets of Buddhism to anyone who cares to listen. And who wouldn't, he is super adorable.

Still, Krebs maintains robots "could never substitute for pastoral care" despite the obvious applications for relieving a very real priest shortage. One that could be solved by simply building a holy army of BlessBots. "We don't want to robotise our church work, but see if we can bring a theological perspective to a machine." Just make sure BlessU-2 knows that. Two words: robot crusades. Also, let's hope any funding from SkyNet is side stepped.  

BlessU-2 does make a person wonder what the Catholic Church might have to say this time around with regards to his primary directives and this new debate sparking topic. I can't imagine Pope Francis getting too bent out of shape though. He's been doing a lot to blunt the sharper edges of Catholic rigor and make the faith more inclusive and accessible. Doubtful he'd sweat a Robopriest (full disclosure: I'm secretly hoping that some of the deeper pockets of the Catholic church are already financing the construction of a BishopBot that sprays wine and dispenses hosts for cyber communion, "Prepare for transubstantiation, hu-man!"). No matter.    

The observation has been made that if organized religion is going to survive and thrive in the future, it is in need of a face lift. For many, the religious dogma that guided us in previous centuries doesn't quite wash in the modern world.  Maybe the new face of faith will be a tireless, mechanical one. If the accompanying software reflects a more inclusive worldview, sure, why not. But they've really gotta iron out the kinks with those eyebrows.