First, a Little About Me

I get some version of this question almost daily now: Why do you use AI? Why not hire real musicians and artists?

I grew up underprivileged, the only child of a single mother. Nobody ever taught me to play an instrument. I don't have any particular musical talent, and I certainly don't have the resources to hire a band, recording engineers, illustrators, and animators.

I also grew up agnostic. I eventually found my way to the Catholic faith, and I've spent the better part of the last twenty-five years studying apologetics, teaching RCIA (now OCIA), and helping others understand and embrace the faith.

Peter's Barque is my hobby. It's a passion project. I'm not trying to become a professional musician or build a commercial music empire. I'm a catechist who discovered a new way to teach the faith.

And somehow, this little hobby project has now reached millions of people.

I've received messages from people who tell me that my songs have helped them understand Catholic teaching, reconsider things they thought they knew about the Church, and even return to their faith.

That means more to me than I can adequately express.

What Actually Goes Into Making These Songs?

I'm very upfront about my use of AI. I don't hide it, and I don't pretend to be something I'm not.

But I also try to use these tools as conscientiously and creatively as I can.

I write the songs.

I research the theology and history. I develop the lyrics, structure, themes, and arrangements. I use digital tools to produce the music, but I don't simply type "make me a Catholic song" into a prompt, accept whatever comes out, and publish it.

I will literally spend hours, days, and sometimes weeks perfecting a single song. I'll rewrite verses dozens of times, regenerate sections, adjust phrasing, fix pronunciations, and work through musical variations until I get something that communicates what I'm trying to teach.

Then there's the artwork and video production, which can involve creating and assembling hundreds of individual images.

I'm doing everything I can to make this as artisanal a process as possible for someone who lacks the musical training and artistic skills to do it all by traditional means.

Would You Like to Volunteer?

Here's where I have to be just a little bit cheeky.

If you're volunteering to perform the music and create the artwork for me, I enthusiastically accept!

In fact, when I first wrote this, I was working on a song about the Reformation. I needed somewhere between one hundred and two hundred illustrations, along with the accompanying musical performance, all finished by Thursday.

I trust you'll have those ready for me? 😏

I say that with a smile, but there's a serious point behind it.

I'm not trying to be rude or dismissive. I understand that people have legitimate concerns about AI, particularly when it comes to the livelihoods of artists and musicians.

But I have to tell you that the constant questioning can become genuinely hurtful.

I've had people tell me that what I'm doing is ugly, that it's not art, that I should be ashamed of myself, and that I ought to stop.

I'm not ashamed.

I'm working under the aegis of my Archbishop, doing what I can, in my own little way, to help build the Kingdom of God.

I'm Not Replacing Artists. This Wouldn't Exist Without AI.

Here's something I wish people would understand:

I am not displacing a single musician or artist.

I didn't fire a band to replace it with AI. I didn't dismiss an illustrator or animator because a machine could do the work more cheaply.

Those people were never on the payroll. There was never a payroll.

Without these tools, Peter's Barque simply would not exist.

That's the alternative. Not a beautifully produced album featuring professional musicians and hand-painted artwork. Not a thriving creative enterprise employing dozens of talented people.

Nothing.

There would be no songs, no videos, and none of the people who have encountered the faith through them.

Could AI Actually Create Opportunities for Artists?

I would argue that what I'm doing may actually create opportunities for traditional artists and musicians.

I'm demonstrating that there's a real hunger for this kind of content.

There are people who want songs about Church history, theology, apologetics, the saints, and the beauty of the Catholic faith. There's an audience for music that teaches something deeper than the usual inspirational platitudes.

I would LOVE to see talented Catholic musicians and artists take that opportunity and run with it.

In fact, even if I somehow had access to professional musicians and illustrators, I suspect this project would have stalled after the first dozen songs or so. The time, money, and coordination required would simply have been beyond my reach.

Instead, I've been able to produce an enormous amount of catechetical content and reach millions of people with it.

And again, some of those people have told me that they've returned to the Church because of something I created.

For that, I will not apologize.

Yes, I Know There's a Lot of AI Slop

Look, I know there's a tremendous amount of AI slop out there. I'm not blind to it. I understand why people are frustrated by the flood of low-effort, mass-produced content.

But I hope people can recognize the difference between someone trying to flood the internet with disposable content and someone pouring his heart, time, research, and creativity into a project he genuinely believes serves a greater purpose.

I've said from the beginning, and I repeat it across my social media channels:

I'm not a musician. I'm a catechist.

Music is the medium. Teaching the faith is the mission.

These are tools, and I'm using them to do something I could never have done otherwise.

And sometimes, frankly, I get tired. I get worn down. I get frustrated by people who seem more interested in criticizing the tools I'm using than considering the message I'm trying to communicate.

I'm doing the best I can with what I have.

If You Can Do It Better, Please Do!

If you have the time, the talent, the training, and the resources to do this better, then please, I beg you, do it!

Take what I've done and run with it. Write better songs. Make better music. Create more beautiful artwork. Teach the faith to more people. Reach people I could never hope to reach.

I will cheer you on!

Because we're supposed to be working toward the same goal here.

But please don't look down on me, insult me, or suggest that I should be ashamed because I'm using the tools available to me to share the faith I love.

I don't think that's a particularly charitable, or Christian, way to treat someone who is sincerely trying to do some good.

You don't have to like AI. You don't have to like my music. You don't even have to agree with my methods.

But I would hope you could at least recognize the sincerity of the effort.

I'm one guy, with a computer, a love for the Catholic faith, and a desire to share it.

I'm doing the best I can.

And by the grace of God, it seems to be doing some good.

One Final Thought: Even the Rocks Would Cry Out

And one final thought, perhaps a little tongue-in-cheek.

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the Pharisees demanded that He silence His disciples. And Jesus answered:

"I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out."

— Luke 19:40

Well, what are the computers running these AI tools built from? Silicon. Refined from quartz. Quite literally, from rocks.

So maybe, in some small and wonderfully ironic way, I'm helping the very rocks cry out in praise of God.

Now, I'm not suggesting Jesus was prophesying artificial intelligence. But I do find something rather beautiful about the idea that a man who can't play an instrument can use a machine made from the stones of the earth to proclaim the glory of their Creator.

After all, Jesus also said that God could raise up children of Abraham from stones. Surely I can use a few silicon chips to teach the faith.

The rocks haven't literally come alive and started singing. But we've taken something from the rocks of the earth and fashioned it into an instrument that can proclaim the glory of God.

And if the rocks are willing to cry out, who am I to tell them to be quiet?