Why We Enjoy ‘The Chosen’ Movie So Much

Why “The Chosen” Movie is so great

With its compelling and moving storyline, The Chosen, a multiseason look at the life of Christ through the eyes of his disciples, has amassed more than 50 million viewers in 180 countries, according to its creators. The Chosen’s creative storylines and superior production value have captured the attention of even fans who weren’t initially convinced that anything good could emerge from the Nazareth of Christian entertainment.

Dallas Jenkins, the director, has elevated the standard for the caliber of entertainment with a religious subject. The show shattered records for crowdsourcing, bringing in $10 million for the first season and $12 million from 125,000 individuals for the second, which ended on July 11 with the season finale.

But The Chosen’s appeal isn’t only attributable to better filmmaking methods or the relatability of actor Jonathan Roumie’s portrayal of Jesus. It derives from its compelling depiction of each disciple’s desire for change. The show’s characters change from having modest expectations to having lofty ambitions. We are drawn into the mystery of the disciples’ metamorphosis in Christ as we observe the disciples change.

René Girard, a French historian and philosopher, underwent a profound conversion to Christianity when he realized that the greatest books in history, such as The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky and Don Quixote by Cervantes, were born of a conversion experience that pierced the author’s pride and vanity. They were able to design incredibly sophisticated personalities that were more realistic because of this expertise.

Girard noticed that humans learn to desire via imitation, a process he named mimesis (which derives from the Greek and means “to resemble”). This insight came from his thorough study of history, human behavior, and great literature. We develop a desire for the things that are presented to us as important and attractive. Girard was largely referring to the kinds of metaphysical aspirations that people create to be a specific sort of person, rather than to our fundamental needs—food, shelter, and safety.

This, according to Girard, is an essentially positive thing—a radical type of openness and receptivity to others—but it is also rife with clear risks. All of us don’t completely realize how easily our wants may be manipulated. Additionally, we run the risk of wasting our lives pursuing “thin” mimetic impulses that are ultimately unfulfilling as opposed to the “deep” desires engendered by God.

The process of becoming a Christian requires rearranging one’s desires as a result of ongoing contact with Christ. Christ’s revelation of the pattern of divine love starts to pervade a person’s entire existence. New aspirations replace old ones. If a person just has models of wants from the outside world, it is difficult for their desires to be rearranged, as shown by a heavenly model. People who are absorbed by worldly models are doomed to remain trapped in an age-related hamster wheel and never be able to escape it. Only one role model in human history has ever had the ability to desire anything different: Christ. Whose greatest goal is to carry out his Father’s plan, provides us with an alternative.

When he says in the Gospels, “Follow me,” he does not only mean a bodily following when he says, “Follow me,” but also a following of desire. In other words, “Want what I want, don’t just follow me around or imitate my voice or mannerisms.” He seeks the redemption of each person. When Jesus meets with Mary Magdalene, Peter, or any other disciple he summons, it is obvious that he wants them to be totally alive and able to love completely.

To mirror Christ’s wishes, if there is a hierarchy, we must reorganize our own. When the Pharisees question Jesus about the greatest commandment, his straightforward response is, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind.” The first and most important commandment is this: The second commandment is similar: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” In other words, if you practice wanting these two things above all else, the rest of your desires will follow.

“Imitate me as I imitate Christ,” Paul writes (1 Cor 11:1), alluding to the imitation of desire. When he says, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Rom. 12:2), he means the same thing: There are no models worth modeling your life after in this world. If you want to be redeemed from this world of sin and death, you need an otherworldly model, which you may discover in Christ, who has the power to transform you from within via grace.

We become into the things we emulate. And it is for this reason that Christ not only saves us, but also transforms us.

The Chosen depicts the tremendous struggle between earthly and spiritual ambitions in its creative account of the “backstory” of the early disciples. The ancient Roman environment formed the disciples’ wants in ways similar to how the current world shapes ours. As Jesus becomes their new and primary model of want, their petty desires melt away in favor of the higher purpose he represents.

We meet Mary Magdalene three minutes into the first episode of season one, when she is unable to conceive a life for herself outside of the reality of demonic possession with short bouts of lucidity. What does she want? Anything that may temporarily alleviate her excruciating pain: drink, even death. However, as Jesus calls her by name, we witness Mary gradually start to desire other things: to observe the Sabbath correctly, to be kind and serve others, and to study the Scriptures. “I was one thing and now I am entirely different,” she says of herself. And what transpired in the interim was him.” Jesus has become her new role model, and she has began to desire what he desires for herself.

Peter’s desires shift in front of our eyes in a similar way. When we first meet Peter, we wonder what he wants. His culture has emulated the downfall of Roman rule, the reduction of his tax load, and the ability to be a successful fisherman. He’s walled off to everything else. When his brother Andrew attempts to pique Peter’s interest in Jesus, he is first contemptuous, but his meeting with Jesus on the Sea of Galilee changes everything. He is presented with a new model, and the trappings of his former life—his shallow desires—start to lose their hold on him.

In episode 5, Peter tells Eden how happy he is to follow Christ and learn from him. “He said I wouldn’t be a fisherman anymore, but I’d catch guys!” he shouts like a child. I have no idea what it implies, but… “I want to stop fishing and leave the sea.”

These are only two examples. So far, the program does an outstanding job of depicting the slow shifts that occur when the disciples begin to desire differently after choosing to follow Christ.

The series has yet to portray the dreadful finale we all know is coming: the Passion. The Passion is the pinnacle of Christian hope because it is the time when death is defeated and the doors to a new way of living and loving are opened to us. Taking hold of that new potential, however, is only feasible for the disciples—as it is for us—after a period of divine preparation in which our desires are altered sufficiently to perceive God’s love poured forth on the cross.

Yes, Peter will betray Christ; he will even attempt to persuade Christ to emulate his own wants, earning him the harshest condemnation in the Gospels when Jesus exclaims, “Get behind me, Satan!” However, the transformation will have been enough to move Peter and the other disciples (save Judas) to repentance. They ultimately want to spend the remainder of their lives serving a greater truth, to the point that virtually all of them will voluntarily die in imitation of Christ when their change is complete.