"I am fundamentally an optimist.
Part of being optimistic is keeping one's head pointed toward the sun, one's feet moving forward.
There were many dark moments when my faith in humanity was sorely tested, but I would not and could not give myself up to despair. That way lays defeat and death."
Nelson Mandela
When we were students, fate once carried us… straight into a sect.
Although that group proudly called itself a “missionary society,” looking back now, I can only shake my head: youth is reckless, curiosity is boundless, and the ways of the Lord, or whatever forces govern our adventures, are truly mysterious.
The Invitation Seemed Very Innocent
My university friend Zhanna had been painting this enticing picture for weeks. She spoke of an unusually lively, creative crowd of young people who gathered regularly at a so-called “community center”. There was music, laughter, endless conversation, and—most importantly for broke students like us—delicious snacks.
“Just come once,” she said, “you’ll see how amazing it is. These are the kind of people who’ll change your life!”
It sounded harmless, even fun.
At worst, we imagined a slightly awkward evening of tea and small talk. At best, maybe we’d expand our circle of friends.
One night we gave in to her persuasion and followed her to one of these gatherings.
The Shock Was Inmediate
Instead of cookies and casual chatter, we walked straight into a fervent religious service.
The setting was almost surreal: an old Soviet kindergarten turned into a chapel of sorts. The pastor, in full Gospel fervor, shouted with theatrical intensity about the dangers of Satan and the urgency of repentance.
The congregation, many visibly poor or disabled, clutched each other’s hands, swayed rhythmically, trembled, and collapsed into convulsions as though some invisible power had seized them.
My friend and I locked eyes in disbelief. This was not the fun tea party our university friend had promised. This was something darker, something manipulative. Very, very weird…
We tried to slip out quietly, but a stern young woman intercepted us at the exit.
“The service isn’t over, where are you going to?” she asked. Her eyes seemed both watchful and accusatory.
Thinking fast, we muttered something about urgently needing the ladies’ room. Then, like fugitives, we pretended to visit a WC, navigated the corridors and finally burst out into the night air, gasping with relief.
Several years later I read about the death of a 57-year-old congregant who hanged herself in that church restroom.
The Scandals Behind The Scene
The church’s lead pastor was arrested on charges of extremism. Local media reported accusations of financial exploitation, psychological pressure, even the use of psychotropic substances on parishioners. Church representatives, meanwhile, insisted that eight pastors had been forced to leave the country under pressure, and several followers deported.
Whether one believed the church’s innocence or the authorities’ accusations, one fact was hard to ignore: a place that once promised warmth, community, and salvation had turned into a symbol of exploitation, monetization, greediness, secrecy, and suspicion.
Do We See a Parallel With AI?
That old story keeps coming back to me now because artificial intelligence is quietly morphing into a kind of global religion.
Of course, the rituals look different. Instead of hymnals and candles, we have apps, prompts, and chat windows.
Instead of pastors, we have CEOs in turtlenecks delivering keynote sermons on the future. Instead of a dusty kindergarten-turned-chapel, we have glossy conference stages and slick demo videos.
But the psychology—ah, the psychology feels hauntingly familiar.
Think of Sam Altman of OpenAI, speaking in prophetic tones about “artificial general intelligence” that will change the course of humanity. Or Elon Musk, tweeting that artificial intelligence “is obviously gonna one-shot the human limbic system”, suggesting that AI might actually raise birth by influencing that part of a brain which is responsible for emotions”.
Or Mark Zuckerberg, rebranding his entire empire into the “Metaverse” church of virtual salvation.
Like the pastors of that sect, these men play dual roles: prophets of a new world and beneficiaries of immense wealth built on the devotion of their followers.
The Neophytes. As Usual, the Same Pattern
And just like in that sect, the adepts come in two kinds.
There are the lonely ones, who let AI fill the aching silence of their lives. Look at the rise of AI companion apps like Replika, Character or Nomi, or newer platforms promising emotional intimacy, unconditional validation, and 24/7 companionship.
It is the same yearning I saw in that converted kindergarten hall: people longing to be held, to be told they are not alone, to believe in something larger than themselves.
Then there are the ambitious ones, terrified of being left behind. The consultants, the startups, the corporate world rushing to proclaim themselves “AI-first.” Their sermons are LinkedIn posts and Medium essays about disruption and innovation.
Their prayer is the constant whisper: “Subscribe, and your life will be saved.”
The Tithes
The tithe is different now. It isn’t ten percent of your paycheck handed to a pastor. It’s your data, your privacy, your attention, and your consent.
Every search you type, every photo you upload, every late-night chat with a bot enriches the companies at the top.
Microsoft, Google, Anthropic, OpenAI—they grow fatter on this digital devotion, while the believers convince themselves they are receiving salvation for free.
The Transformation
I am absolutely astonished how this cult, after all the accusations and trials, survived and transformed into a hybrid model, half on-site, half digital.
Out of curiosity, I opened a video presentation on YouTube where followers were dancing and singing, congratulating the “church” on its 30-year jubilee.
What I saw was not a polished institution but very modest people in modest settings, led by pastors with XXXL clothes and enormous cheeks.
And yet, their resilience is undeniable.
Watching them, I can’t shake the thought: as AI communities grow with equal fervor, are we witnessing the birth of a new kind of devotion—and are we prepared for what comes next?