“If You Were the Devil, What Would You Do?”

I came across a reel on Instagram the other night—one of those you scroll past and then immediately scroll back to because something about it grabs you. The speaker said he asked ChatGPT, “If you were the devil, what would you do?”

Now, I’ll be honest, I expected something theatrical or silly. But what ChatGPT actually said stopped me cold. It went like this:

“If I were the devil, I would convince people that evil doesn’t exist. I’d make sin seem fun and harmless, and I’d make truth seem outdated and intolerant. I’d divide families and nations, making people believe that opinions matter more than relationships. I’d whisper that faith is foolish, that pleasure is purpose, and that feelings are facts. I’d flood the world with noise so no one could hear God’s voice. I’d distract people with busyness, pride, and self-importance until they no longer sought meaning—just comfort. I’d twist Scripture, glamorize sin, and make people believe that everyone’s truth is equal—so long as it’s not God’s truth. I’d destroy peace by feeding fear, and I’d keep people so entertained that they forget eternity.”

Read that again slowly.

That’s not an AI imagining evil—it’s a reflection of our reality. The devil wouldn’t need fire, horns, or brimstone. He’d just need us to stop paying attention. He’d need us to doubt truth, numb our souls with distraction, and convince us that right and wrong are old-fashioned concepts. And looking around, I think we can all admit—he’s doing a pretty good job.

When I first heard that response, I didn’t think about computers or technology. I thought about how quietly evil creeps in when we stop guarding our hearts. The devil doesn’t usually come crashing through the front door; he slips in through the cracks. Through the little compromises. Through the pride of thinking we’re too wise to be deceived.

He doesn’t have to make us hate God. He just has to make us forget Him.

It’s easy to point fingers at “the world,” but if we’re honest, we all have our weak spots. The devil is a master manipulator of the subtle. He takes good things—success, ambition, relationships—and twists them until they become idols. He makes us so focused on what’s next that we ignore what’s eternal.

And yet, here’s the part that matters most: he only wins when we let him.

The Bible tells us in 1 Peter 5:8 to “be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” The devil doesn’t attack people who are already living in the light—he tries to dim that light until we stop shining. That’s why spiritual awareness matters. That’s why prayer matters. That’s why we can’t treat faith like a Sunday accessory.

The devil would love for you to think that evil is an outdated concept, that sin is just “living your truth,” and that holiness is judgmental. He’d love for you to scroll your way into emptiness, to live surrounded by people but never feel connected, to know about God but never know Him. He’d love for you to trade conviction for comfort and faith for feelings.

And when I think about that, I realize that reel wasn’t just a curiosity—it was a warning.

We live in a world where the devil doesn’t need to destroy churches; he just needs to make them comfortable. He doesn’t need to silence the Word; he just needs to drown it out with the noise of the world. He doesn’t need to take away our faith; he just needs to make it seem unnecessary.

But here’s the good news—God’s truth still wins. Always has, always will.

The devil’s entire playbook depends on deception, but light exposes darkness every time. Scripture reminds us that “greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.” (1 John 4:4). Evil has influence, but not authority. The cross settled that once and for all.

So, if you ever find yourself discouraged by what you see in the world—by the chaos, the division, the exhaustion—remember this: the devil may have strategies, but he doesn’t have the final say.

You still have the power to choose truth over lies. To choose prayer over panic. To choose faith over fear. And to choose Christ over comfort.

That Instagram reel wasn’t just a viral moment; it was a mirror. It asked me to take stock of my own heart. Am I alert? Am I guarding my peace? Am I walking with God, or just walking through the motions?

Because the real question isn’t, “If you were the devil, what would you do?”
The real question is, “If you were the believer you’re called to be, what would you do differently?”

The devil’s plan is clever—but God’s plan is complete. And while the world may grow darker, the light inside us doesn’t dim unless we let it.

So stand firm. Pray harder. Love deeper. And when the enemy whispers that truth doesn’t matter, remind him that Truth has a name—and His name is Jesus.