Deep Fake Jesus

Why I don’t watch The Chosen

The Chosen is Deep Fake Jesus.

That’s what I called it on the latest episode of Cooper and Cary Have Words podcast. Some listeners didn’t like that. But is that fair description of what’s going on?

Probably not.

But the reactions to our take on The Chosen have been interesting and a little surprising. However, I would like to argue that this is a case in which the medium has affected the message.

That Deep Fake Feeling

I got the ‘Deep fake’ feeling when I watched an episode for myself. I’m with CS Lewis on this sort of thing:

The first demand any work of art makes upon us is surrender. Look. Listen. Receive. Get yourself out of the way. (There is no good asking first whether the work before you deserves such a surrender, for until you have surrendered you cannot possibly find out.) (An Experiment in Criticism)

And my reaction was that the Jesus I was seeing looked realistic, but was saying things he did not say, and reacting in ways he would not have reacted. Nicodemus offers Jesus praise, and Jesus rejects it? Really?

I watched Episode 7 of Season 1, in which Jesus meets Nicodemus. I chose that episode because I know that part of John’s gospel reasonably well. I did a deep dive on John 1-12 in preparing for my stand-up theology show Water into Wine which is about the Seven Signs in John’s Gospel.

Except right here we have a problem. The story of Nicodemus is exclusive to John’s gospel. It is significant that it comes after Jesus has cleared the Temple courts in John 2:13-22. But The Chosen doesn’t show that bit. Other parts of John 1-2 are covered in other episodes, sprinkled across Episodes 4, 5 and 6 of Season 1 – although Jesus’s calling of Philip and Nathanael is in Season 2^[1]. But there is no attempt to tell this story in the context of the only context we have: The Gospel according to John.

The writer, Dallas Jenkins, is forming his own composite but distinctive narrative about Jesus from various stories in all four gospels. I think that’s a problem.

Four Gospels of Churchill

As a screenwriter, Jenkins’ approach makes total sense. If I were writing a biopic about Winston Churchill, I would do the same. I’d probably read four different biographies on Churchill, with four different perspectives which would, in turn, cover different material and create something consistent with all of them, although with its own fresh perspective.

These biographies would have commonalities, such as his birth at Blenheim, his capture in South Africa and escape from a POW camp, his rise to power and fall after Gallipoli. There would be his wilderness years, and then his return, triumph as Prime Minister during World War Two, his astonishing electoral defeat and his brief return. And then his death and state funeral.

In a similar way, the gospels all cover similar material in the life of Jesus. There are a few stories about his birth and childhood that we know well from Carol services. But the bulk of the gospels cover his two or three years of ministry. Lots of parables and miracles are repeated in Matthew, Mark and Luke. The Feeding of the Five Thousand is the only miracle to appear in all four gospels. But the crucifixion narratives are also recognisably the same.

One could argue that the gospel writers themselves are grabbing and ordering material in a way that suits their own purposes. Why should Dallas Jenkins not do the same? It’s a fair point.

One could reply that Dallas Jenkins is not Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. He wasn’t there and was not using eyewitness accounts. One could also say that Dallas Jenkins, the son of the author of the Left Behind novels, has his own theological preferences. He says:

"I’m a conservative Evangelical. I believe in the inerrancy of Scripture. I believe in the supremacy of God's Word. I believe in the Holy Trinity. I believe in God the Father, the Son of God, the Holy Spirit, and believe that Jesus is the Son of God and all of the core tenets of Scripture."

Despite using the term ‘Deep Fake Jesus’, I’m not impugning the motives of Dallas Jenkins. I think he is genuinely trying to do the right thing. The Chosen is not a money-making exercise. In fact, his dad’s novels have probably set him up for life financially. I also don’t see any evidence that Jenkins is trying to preach his own personal, heretical view of Jesus which is at odds with the orthodox view of the life of Jesus as we have received it from the gospels and the church fathers. In fact, look back at the writings of some highly-regarded church fathers and you will find some bizarre interpretations of New Testament stories.

Here we come to the nub of this: Jenkins doesn’t seem to have any hidden heretical agenda, and he’s only doing what any screenwriter would have done, given the existence of four canonical accounts of the life of Christ? So why have I called The Chosen ‘Deep Fake Jesus’ both here and on the podcast?

The phrase ‘Deep Fake Jesus’ is a good hook, isn’t it? It’s a pithy, attention-grabbing starting point of this discussion about The Chosen. Every Substack article needs a title. ‘Deep Fake Jesus’ implies that there is an intention to deceive, but if you’ve read this far, you now know that I’m satisfied that the intentions of the team behind The Chosen are noble. But I took a liberty with the phrase ‘Deep Fake Jesus’, because of the medium in which I am writing. And I think this is the issue about why I have reservations about The Chosen.

The Medium is the Message

“The Medium is the Message” was coined by Canadian communication theorist Marshall McLuhan who wrote, “It is only too typical that the 'content' of any medium blinds us to the character of the medium.” And I think that is relevant here.

When Dallas Jenkins and his team retell the life of Christ, as portrayed in the gospels, they use the idioms and production values of 21^st century episodic television. What else are they supposed to do? They are doing what one might do if one was retelling the story of Winston Churchill, as I wrote above.

This makes sense as a screenwriter, but as a Christian, this seems like playing with fire. If fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, let’s ask the question so beautifully put by Sergeant Wilson in Dad’s Army: “Do you think that’s wise?”

What would be a more theologically responsible approach that would satisfy me? How about picking one of the gospels and dramatising that, so we are consistent with a vision of Jesus through the eyes of Matthew, Mark, Luke or John?

We know the answer to that. If you do that, you’re limiting your options. Let’s say you do Matthew in one season. Are you going to do Mark in the second season and do it all over again? With some repeated miracles and another crucifixion. That would be weird.

I would argue it would be cool and really interesting. But commercially unviable. And here’s where we see how the medium is the message. The medium has dictated the method. The result is a composite gospel that undermines any one narrative by any one gospel writer. For me, that’s a problem.

One might then ask, “Well what were they supposed to do, given the constraints of 21^st century episodic television?” To which my response would be, “Maybe they should not have done this.”

But that’s only a ‘maybe’. It doesn’t make me angry that they had the chutzpah to attempt it.

We should, however, be honest about the dangers and difficulties of this approach, mixing up the gospel narratives and, most worryingly, putting words into Jesus’s mouth. In The Gospel According to a Sitcom Writer, I read between the lines on Bible passages and add bits, but they are clearly marked, and I never have Jesus says things he did not say in scripture.

The story of Nicodemus that I saw in Episode 7 of Season 1 hasn’t been ‘filled out’, or reimagined – but altered. Words are put in Jesus’s mouth which makes me very uncomfortable.

But you don’t need to take my word for it. Why not have a listen to the show – and watch the Nicodemus encounter below – or even better, a whole episode - and decide for yourself? I’d also be really interested in your comments below.

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^[1] According to Peter T Chattaway