What Shall it Profit Jenkins to Sell "Jesus"?

Created by Dallas Jenkins in 2017, The Chosen is a multi-season television series dramatizing the humanity of Jesus from the viewpoint of His disciples. Jenkins, in the spirit of literary license, has created 95% of the show's material to fill what he calls "gaps" in the Biblical record. The show's predominantly fictional content has not precluded its being billed as historical drama; nor has it hindered the credulity of Jenkins' fans. On the contrary, the vast majority of Jenkins' audience accepts his imaginative inventions with unprecedented zeal, even when made aware of the show's Biblical aberrations. With over 280 million viewers, The Chosen has been called the most popular faith-based television series of all time.

So, what's the problem? Aren't millions upon millions of people hearing about Jesus? Yes, supposedly, but whose Jesus? When the so-called "gaps" Jenkins finds in Scripture's four Gospel accounts of the historical Jesus require a seven-season series of eight episodes apiece to fill, something smells fishy to me. Do the math, and find that Jenkins has projected a total of 56 episodes of 50-60 minutes each. That's roughly 51 hours of material. Now consider the fact that a good reader could read the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John in about five hours, and you have at least 46 additional hours of content created by Jenkins and his cowriters--that's if Jenkins has filmed The Gospels as written. We should point out, however, that Jenkins replaces large portions of Jesus' teachings with his own imagined "backstories," bringing his total of added hours back up closer to the original 51. Obviously, a person could read faster than an actor could speak or act, so these totaled hours are not a neat and tidy sum, but Jenkins' filled "gaps" are significant.

Put those 51 hours of added material in writing (or publish the show's content as supplements to Scripture--which is actually being done), and fill hypothetically anywhere from 1,840 to 2,760 pages. Compare that heft to a range of 120 to 500 pages required to print the four Gospels, depending upon the text and formatting used, and Jenkins' filled "gaps" overwhelm the Biblical record easily five and a half times over. Gaps indeed. What is it the Apostle John says at the close of his Gospel? "And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written" (John 21:25). The point isn't that there aren't "gaps." The point is that even the Apostle John didn't attempt to fill them. Isn't it interesting that John is instead led by the Holy Spirit to record the Lord's prohibition against adding to Scripture (Revelation 22:18-19), when he himself could have filled multiple volumes? Those who argue that John is referring merely to the prophecies in Revelation must also contend with Moses' words in Deuteronomy 4:2 and with Agur's words in Proverbs 30:6. Scripture makes clear that no one can add to or take away from God's Words without being condemned as a liar.

So, whose Jesus does The Chosen feature in all those "plausible" episodes that Jenkins has added with his own seal of "authenticity?" This "Jesus" whose humanity has finally been unveiled after two millennia of obscurity is Jenkins' Jesus. He is what Paul the Apostle calls "another Jesus." And how could it be otherwise? These episodes didn't happen. They are pure fiction and bad fiction, at that. Even Jenkins' cowriters and consultants sometimes disagree with his highly implausible narratives, such as making Peter fish on the Sabbath. No self-respecting Jew would do that. But no one could get this fact through Jenkins' head, so he filmed his melodrama anyway. This example of which there are others proves that Jenkins follows no checks and balances when he has an agenda to fulfill. In the end, if he isn't even answerable to his own handpicked writers and consultants, how are we to believe that Jenkins gives deference to the Scriptures when they conflict with his purpose?

Clearly, he doesn't, no matter how much he "doth protest" otherwise. And if his fans are following his show with an almost cultish fever--and they are--they are not following the Scriptures. This fact becomes even more sobering when we learn that Dallas Jenkins is indeed collecting his material into publishable form. Jerry Jenkins, Dallas's father who has become famous (or infamous) for his fictional Left Behind series, is now adapting his son's filmscripts into a series of novels. As of July 15, 2025, there are five The Chosen novels, totaling 1,792 pages. Apparently, each novel, as based on a specific season of the series, expands on the story with "more character inner monologues and backstories," to quote AI. Fiction on top of fiction, in other words--to make the stories more and more believable and to drive Jenkins' "chosen" disciples deeper and deeper into his viewers' consciousness, until they are more familiar with Jenkins' invented personae--which aren't even based on historical secondary sources--than they are with The Bible's primary sources authored by God Himself.

But isn't that Jenkins' point? He has created a world of his own, a gospel of his own, and a Jesus of his own. But that's not all. Jenkins also has a curriculum of his own. Pretty soon, we will hear of someone graduating from the Jenkins School of Theology with a Th.D. in The Chosen. I'm not exactly being facetious. Jenkins is now offering numerous Bible study guides based on The Chosen. His wife Amanda, along with other collaborators, is authoring this endeavor. These study guides are "rooted in the show's scripts and explore the themes and scriptural context of the episodes," says AI. I have read reports of churches that are launching this curriculum for corporate study, and some even feature video clips as part of the morning message. Jenkins, it would seem, has reached the pinnacle of success that Satan offered to Jesus if He would only bow down and worship him. All the kingdoms of the world and some yet to be found seem to lie at Jenkins' feet.

But there's more. "Standalone devotional books" that are separate from the novel series and Bible study materials are also now available for spiritual consumption. These, too, come in a series, with "one volume accompanying each season of the show," according to AI. "Each book," says AI, "contains 40 daily devotions, a Scripture excerpt, a related story or reflection, a prayer suggestion, and thought-provoking questions." These devotional books are "designed to help readers engage with the Gospel stories and themes from the show on a personal level." Are we really not supposed to catch on that Dallas Jenkins has launched a full scale war of aggression against those who criticize the spiritual content of his show? Who could stand up to a Goliath of this stature? Not only is The Chosen and all its merchandise ubiquitous, Jenkins would make it synonymous with Scripture--even though he goes on record as saying The Chosen isn't Scripture, doesn't replace Scripture, and should point to Scripture--with all of its 5% factual content working overtime to present Biblical truth.

It seems that Dallas and his father Jerry both have a genius for making money off the Gospel with a pious face and a heart of gold. Or is it a Midas touch of gold? But Jenkins seems to have no gold standard for verifying the truth of his show. He pretends his show is authentic when it's almost completely made up with no end in sight. Like the little bit of leaven that leavens the whole lump, The Chosen has swelled over the lip of the loaf pan and is half-baked to boot. Or, like the green bay tree of Psalm 37 that spreads its wicked pride across the landscape, it seems to mock the meek little mustard seed of faith. But Jenkins isn't appealing to faith. His sole purpose is to woo his audience by sight. We could all imagine, if we wanted to, what Jesus' childhood was like, what His carpenter occupation entailed, or what He did to help his young little mother. But why would we do that when we could spend our time studying what He taught us about God?

But Jenkins isn't about doctrine or teaching. He's about narrative--and false narrative, at that. In fact, I wonder if this term was invented with his family in mind. And what of his claim that his show never contradicts Scripture? Isn't this a misleading claim when it is impossible to contradict an episode that doesn't exist in the first place? But his fans have been beguiled by this bewitching line of thinking, and, even when they are not outright disrespectful to the Scriptures, they seem to think of them as a--pardon the very expression--"necessary evil" or as the mere "dictionary" of truth, of which The Chosen is the epic dramatization. But let's get back to the facts. While it may be technically true that Jenkins' show doesn't contradict Scripture, it certainly does contradict its own billing. Its claim to be historical fiction is not defensible. And yet Jenkins gets significant mileage from this high-sounding term used inaccurately to describe what is actually contemporary fiction.

All of this makes the attacks of Jenkins' fans against his critics almost comical, for their puffed up and pretentious accusations of Pharisaism are launched against those who have the facts firmly in their grip. God's Word is 100% factual, when Jenkins' show can boast of only 5% veracity. Jenkins' fans can condemn those contending for the truth all they please, but most of them don't have the first clue who the Pharisees really were. And as for their claim that Jenkins' critics care more for Biblical accuracy than for souls, you would think The Chosen was a Billy Graham Crusade rather than a show designed to prey on one's emotions--or pocketbook. Jenkins knows that if he can reach his audience emotionally, he can also hook them into needing all his extra merchandise. Suppose a particularly avid Chosen fan wants to take Jenkins up on all his merch. AI tells me this would include the following:

• Apparel: T-shirts, hoodies, long-sleeve shirts, sweatshirts, beanies, hats, and wristbands with various logos and sayings ("Binge Jesus," "Against the Current," "Come and See," "5 & 2," etc.).

• Media: DVDs and Blu-ray discs for all available seasons, as well as music CDs.

• Books & Art: The Season 2 Poster Collection book, graphic novels, devotional books (like 40 Days with Jesus), and various art prints.

• Accessories & Gifts: Mugs, tumblers, phone cases, jewelry (necklaces, bracelets, lapel pins), stickers, puzzles, and even plush toys. 

The list above doesn't appear to include The Chosen novels compiled by Jerry Jenkins. I'm sure these would be a must-have. AI tells me there are approximately 140 unique merchandise items to purchase for The Chosen, with the cost per item ranging from $15 to over $50.

When I asked AI what the total cost would be to purchase all of these possible items (supposing a Chosen addict would actually do that), the answer was this: "The total cost for a fan to buy every possible piece of official The Chosen merchandise would likely be in the thousands of US dollars, but a precise figure is impossible to provide without a full inventory and current pricing, as items and availability constantly change." Multiply that by 280 million viewers, and Jenkins can retire tomorrow. (I wish he would.) But fans are told that the merchandise is a "significant way" for them to support the show and its future seasons. I wonder if this means that the sale of these items will discontinue after the last episode of the final season airs.

Can you imagine someone stretching their legs during lunchbreak to show off their The Chosen socks (yes, that was listed elsewhere), while drinking coffee from their The Chosen mug held by a hand sporting a The Chosen wristband while their head donning a The Chosen hat backwards bends over a The Chosen novel? It seems pretty clear to me that Jenkins' fans don't have a chance. His hand is certainly in their pocket, and he would clothe them head to toe in his show if he could. Oh, yeah, I forgot The Chosen sweatshirt. I'm surprised they don't already carry a line of shoes. But can you imagine if anyone dared to be as addicted to The Bible as Jenkins' fans are to his show? But I don't see Jenkins' fans crossing over their loyalties any time soon. The comments his fans write about their previous "take" on The Bible are often pretty harsh and rude. You don't have to be a prosecuting attorney to realize that the evidence mounts up quickly to convict Jenkins' fans of preferring his show to Scripture.

When The Bible itself appears to create the controversy over The Chosen, Jenkins has deconstructed his own claim that his show points people to The Bible. Maybe it does in spite of him. But that doesn't validate his tactics, and it doesn't exempt him from culpability in dividing the Body of Christ over matters as serious as truth and fiction. Despite The Chosen's immense popularity and claim to worldwide evangelism, the "gospel" is delivered obliquely, if at all. And Jenkins is wallowing in quagmire when he leaves the solid rock of Scripture to follow entertainment of his own making. Jenkins may get to play by his own rules in creating his show, but he doesn't get to redefine truth. If faith comes by hearing God's Word--which it does--I don't understand how Jenkins justifies his expressed artistic purpose not to teach the Bible, as his lengthy interview with Jordan Peterson shows. If I even believed that he was trying to teach it outside the show with all his curriculum, I might feel better, but he weaves his own episodes throughout his material as if they are equal with Scripture.

The "confusion mix" tells me one thing: Jenkins has become the master of gaslighting, and those he has taken captive don't seem to have spotted his deception. Most galling of all isn't Jenkins' intent to veer from Scripture to create his own script, as he discusses with Peterson. It is his presumption that his fictionalized show is a better evangelistic tool than a show that strictly follows the Bible. I don't watch movies about Jesus, but I know this much: if Jenkins equates the popularity of his show with its evangelistic impact, he doesn't know his Bible very well at all. Jesus said, "Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their fathers treat the false prophets," (Luke 6:26). Being suspicious of a merely emotional response to The Gospel comes with training in Evangelism 101, but not for Jenkins. He has deliberately crafted his show to tug on his viewers' emotions.

This explains why he leaves out so much of Jesus' didactic teaching and invents so many scenes where Jesus is apparently talking to needy followers. If we examine the theological damage that has already been done, we see that Jenkins began his show from the outset with the intention of reinventing Jesus. He will deny this, but the fact is as obvious as his many contradictions on any number of issues.

If Jenkins didn't want to reinvent Jesus, he could have afforded to follow the Biblical script. But, by following his own imagination instead, Jenkins has shown not only evident disregard for the Biblical text but also disdain for the power of the unadorned Gospel. But by creating his own script, Jenkins can justify the fact that it stretches out indefinitely. Time equals profit, right? Journalist Bree A. Dail exposes Jenkins' financial dealings in well-researched articles and podcasts that tell a different story than you will find in a superficial Google search.

And it is difficult to deny Jenkins' temptation to any profit motive when he is himself an avid poker player. Although Jenkins claims that playing poker is not gambling since it is a game of skill and since he does not play for large amounts of money, he is reported to have won over $57,000 from his hobby, with his best live cash winning totaling over $30,000. Most of us would call those amounts a lot of money. The fact that Jenkins doesn't is concerning in itself. Did Christ without cause warn us of the deceitfulness of riches (Mark 4:19)? But who wants to take on this battle for integrity in a day where almost nothing seems wrong anymore? It is Jenkins' self-validating worldview that his followers are eating up like bread. Their spiritual hunger has been slacked by consuming that which is not bread but a stone, and I wonder if we read Matthew 25: 41-46 in this light if we might see that Jenkins leaves his followers starving, after all.

Jenkins is selling a different Jesus. And this Jesus is selling indeed. But the true followers of the Biblical Jesus aren't buying what Jenkins is offering. Thankfully, a growing base is fighting against it, but Scripture teaches that those who succumb to apostasy rarely return to the truth.