“Have you seen The Chosen?” When the streaming series first began in 2019, this was an innocuous question. But now, the same question can feel like a litmus test. After all, what Christian wouldn’t admire an ambitious, small-budget, crowdfunded project about the life of Jesus and his disciples, designed to reach new audiences through an accessible streaming platform?
Beneath this enthusiasm lie other assumptions as well: that promoting Christian media is inherently valuable, or that offering positive, faith-based alternatives to the violence and immorality of popular culture is always worth supporting. Faced with such adages and energy, it can feel easier to set aside personal misgivings about the show’s content or theological messaging.
But now, as the series enters its sixth season—with exclusive theatrical premieres, multiple spin-off series in development, “ChosenCon” events modeled after Comic-Con, and a growing merchandise empire—it seems fair to ask deeper questions about a lucrative production enterprise firmly entrenched in the mainstream.
It helps to set aside any “either/or” thinking. The Chosen has plenty of good to offer. The series provides opportunities to envision biblical scenes often overlooked in Jesus films, such as the moving encounter between Jesus and the woman at the well. It also delivers imaginative and tender moments, such as in the episode “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” in which he befriends and teaches a group of curious children. Yet a critical viewing also reveals numerous challenges.
Consider first its sheer length. The gospels—relatively short texts—can each be read in a couple of hours. With roughly 37 hours of content so far, The Chosen radically exceeds its source material. It is one thing to imagine gospel stories in greater detail; it is quite another to devote hours to entirely invented storylines.
The Chosen attempts to envision what the lives of the apostles might have been like but somehow fills in events without offering much character depth or authenticity. Why does Jesus walk on water and save Peter from drowning? In the series, Peter’s wife, Eden, has a miscarriage while Peter is away with Jesus. When he returns, the rift between them grows until Jesus intervenes and Eden prays for Peter’s growth in faith.
Not only are these relational dynamics troubling, but they also upend the rich theological meaning of Jesus walking on water. So enamored is the series with its imagined backstories and subplots that it borders on reducing the gospels to sketches of some greater story we have yet to hear.
The series’ website claims: “All the Bible and historical context and any artistic imagination are designed to support the truth and intention of the Scriptures.” But how does this play out? For example, according to The Chosen, how did the gospels come about?
Contemporary Catholic biblical scholarship holds that the four gospels were written by people who likely did not have firsthand experience of the historical Jesus. Renowned biblical scholar Father Raymond Brown traced the Gospel of John’s origins and contributors, dating it to 60–70 years after Jesus’ death.
The Chosen instead depicts John the apostle—a fisherman in a Roman Empire where only about 5 percent of the population was literate—writing down Jesus’ words verbatim. Likewise, it shows Matthew not only recording Jesus’ words but doing so at Jesus’ explicit request.
At one point, Mary Magdalene even refers to Matthew as Jesus’ “scribe.” Father Donald Senior, member of the Pontifical Biblical Commission, writes in Composing Sacred Scripture: How the Bible Was Formed (LTP) that the gospel writers were “true authors,” not “secretaries.” In other words, the texts were not dictated to them but crafted with their own gifts, aided by the Holy Spirit.
The Chosen, however, portrays the apostles frantically writing down Jesus’ words in real time—despite no mention of such an intention in the gospels themselves. As The Chosen is used in Bible studies, classrooms, and as Christian entertainment, this not only undermines biblical scholarship and creates historical misunderstandings but also encourages problematic, literal interpretations.
Jesus films often encounter theological challenges. The more dialogue and scenes originate from the imagination of the screenwriters, the more easily they wade into questionable theological territory. One of the main themes The Chosen explores is Jesus’ healing ministry. Many of the apostles wrestle with the question: “Why does Jesus heal some people and not others?”
While not a prominent theme in the gospels, the series envisions it as a central concern for Peter, Thomas, and “Little” James.
In the series, James has a disability that not only makes walking difficult but also causes chronic pain. When Jesus announces that he is sending the apostles out in pairs with the ability to heal, James privately seeks him out, confused about why he himself has not been healed. Jesus asks, “Do you want to be healed?” When James answers “yes,” Jesus delivers a speech explaining how he “trusts” James.
While others may need signs, Jesus says, James’ faith is stronger. Jesus trusts James to witness to faith that endures through suffering. He adds that if James heals others despite his own disability, it will send an even more powerful message to those who witness it. Finally, Jesus assures James that he will be healed in heaven, and his current suffering is brief by comparison.
In essence, Jesus seems to say: I want to use your suffering to promote my message and impress people. Stripped of kind and encouraging language, this is Jesus using James as a means to an end. Putting these words on Jesus’ lips runs contrary to fundamental Catholic understandings of human dignity and ultimately makes God small.
Acknowledging all of this doesn’t necessarily diminish the impact of some of the series’ powerful moments and positive contributions. However, it does help explain why thoughtful Christians might hesitate to invest so much time and energy sifting through the show’s limitations for the occasional insight. It is strange to say of a series whose central character so often espouses simplicity, but in this case, “more” isn’t always better.
This article also appears in the October 2025 issue of U.S. Catholic (Vol. 90, No. 10, pages 36-37). Click here to subscribe to the magazine.
Image: Angel Studios
Add comment