Thorns and thistles in the age of AI

On Feb. 26, Jack Dorsey, CEO of Block, Inc., announced that the company would lay off nearly half of its 10,000 employees. The financial technology firm behind Square and Cash App was not in financial trouble—quite the opposite. Dorsey explained that the reason behind the drastic job cuts is that artificial intelligence “fundamentally changes what it means to build and run a company,” rendering tens of thousands of jobs unnecessary.

For years, analysts speculated that AI would displace workers. Now the largest layoff by percentage in S&P 500 history has been explicitly justified on those grounds, with Dorsey suggesting that other companies will face similar decisions and must choose between gradual reductions over several years or “hard, clear action now.”

As Christians, we must view such developments with theological clarity. We must remember that work is not a necessary evil of capitalism; it is a creational good. In Genesis 1 and 2, God creates man in His image and commissions him to exercise dominion over the earth. Adam is placed in the garden “to work and keep it.” Eve is given as a helper fit for him in his vocation. Our labor is not the result of sin but is the good design of our wise God.

However, we must also realize that AI job losses are merely the newest expression of an old curse. After Adam’s rebellion, God declared that the ground would bring forth “thorns and thistles” (Genesis 3:17-18). Work would continue, but it would be marked by frustration, instability, and sweat. Across history, these thorns have taken many forms. In our present age, one of the thorns of the curse may appear as AI bots capable of displacing entire departments.

How, then, should Christians respond?

First, we must refuse despair. When the HR email arrives, Christ’s promises in Matthew 6:25-34 have not been revoked. Historical Protestant teaching affirms that God rules over all things “to the praise of the glory of His wisdom, power, justice, infinite goodness, and mercy.” Corporate restructurings and technological disruptions are no exceptions. This does not trivialize the pain of job loss; it situates it. The Christian who loses employment grieves honestly, seeks new work diligently, and entrusts himself to the God who has promised to provide daily bread.

Second, we must strengthen the local church as an economic community. The New Testament does not mandate communal ownership, but it does assume meaningful material responsibility within the body of the local church. That responsibility includes not only emergency benevolence but also cultivating a culture of productive work within the body.

Pastors should prepare congregations for economic volatility by teaching a theology of vocation. Encourage prudent savings, disciplined stewardship, and intergenerational mentorship. Churches should also encourage the development of internal economic networks: members starting businesses, hiring fellow believers when qualified, and patronizing one another’s services where appropriate. This is not cronyism; it is an expression of rightly ordered loves.

Third, our love of neighbor must extend into a principled public witness. We should cultivate compassion without feeding collectivist envy. When the “thorns” of technological disruption cause widespread upheaval, there is a natural temptation for a culture to look to the state as a provider of total security. While Proverbs 21:13 warns us against closing our ears to the cry of the poor, Christians must recognize that true compassion is not found in the coercive “remedies” of Marxism.

Wealth redistribution schemes that erode property rights and punish productivity violate the moral structure of the Eighth Commandment. Paul’s admonition in 2 Thessalonians 3:10 remains binding: “If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat.” Our task is to offer concrete, localized assistance—resume reviews, job networking, and, where appropriate, short-term financial help—that stabilizes our neighbors in crisis while maintaining an expectation of diligence and initiative; our goal is to ease the sting of the thorns, not to subsidize sloth.

In such moments, Christians must treat economic upheaval as an occasion for intentional witness. When layoffs expose the fragility of financial security, we can enter honest conversations about fear, identity, and ultimate hope—listening well, offering tangible help, and bearing testimony to Christ as the only refuge that cannot be shaken. The gospel does not remove the thorns of this age, but it meets people in their anxiety, redeems suffering, and anchors hope in a kingdom that no economic fluctuation can threaten.

Ultimately, we live between two gardens. Genesis 3 introduced the thorns and thistles of frustration while Revelation 22:3 promises their final removal. The biblical story does not end with humanity being replaced by our own inventions, but with redeemed humanity reigning under Christ in a renewed creation where work is finally and fully restored to its original joy.