In the world of marketing, the goal is to get the customer to buy the product. But Christianity flips the script: it’s not about us selling Christ; it’s about Christ purchasing us. And yet, in American evangelicalism, we seem determined to market Jesus like He’s just another product.
What do I mean by that? Everywhere I look in Central Florida, Christian merchandise is everywhere—shirts, hats, bumper stickers, jewelry. It reminds me of that scene in Orange County where Jack Black, high as a kite, starts rattling off ridiculous ideas. “Dude, I’ve got these ideas, I’ve got so many ideas burning through my skull, buddy!” That’s how some of this Christian marketing feels: an avalanche of branded t-shirts and hats with Bible verses or catchy slogans.
Now, I’m not here to say it’s a bad idea. But I’m also not here to say it’s a good one. The Amish and Mormons do something similar but in a more productive way in the most literal sense — they produce their own goods, sell food and other essentials, and generate income to build wealth within their community. Nothing flashy, just the essentials. The are the OGs of the Support Local movement.
I am more referring to marketing Jesus as a product, though. If the idea is to promote Jesus in a relevant and fashionable way to the world, I have to ask: what kind of Jesus is being promoted? And what kind of person promotes Him that way?
Imagine an atheist wearing loud godless apparel. How many Christians would stop them and say, “Oh, you’re an atheist? Tell me why you believe that.” A few might, but let’s be honest—probably not many. Even fewer would do so with genuine curiosity, without being combative. So why do we assume a t-shirt or bumper sticker will spark meaningful conversations about Jesus?
When it comes to effective witnessing, effective mission, effective testimony—what actually has more impact? An outwardly loud, nicely branded Christian showing off their purchases? Or a quiet, faithful person who you wouldn’t peg by their appearance, doing good in silence, with humility?
That’s the tension. When we make everything loud and outward, it could be bypassing the hard work of building inner resilience and cultivating a deep, tested faith. Sure, it’s possible to do both, but do you know any that do both? Me either. The louder, outward approach feels like a uniquely American way of promoting Jesus. Where else in the world do they do this? That alone should give us pause.
In fact, I think the loudest people often mask the deepest uncertainties. The ones with the boldest slogans and flashiest displays of any purported belief—they tend to be the ones wrestling hardest with doubt and insecurity beneath the surface. Christian marketing can work the same way. The louder the proclamation, the easier it is to avoid facing the hard questions inside. The image becomes the armor, and the noise drowns out the unresolved.
Jesus speaks directly to this in Matthew 6:1-4: “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets… But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”
The kind of devotion Jesus calls for isn’t flashy or performative—it’s secret, humble, done only for God’s eyes.
So maybe the question is, what exactly are we promoting? And does that promotion bypass the real work? Not just generating leads or filling church pews, but actually doing the gritty, long-term work of changing lives for the gospel.
Because there’s a chance that branded faith can become a substitute for genuine faith. Is wearing a t-shirt with a catchy slogan really witnessing? Or is it just a shortcut—a way to feel like we’ve done something without actually engaging people on a personal, intentional level?
When we step back and look at marketing through the lens of experts like Adam Grant or Seth Godin, it’s clear that the entire process—lead generation, lead qualification, closing sales—is designed to drive a transaction. Marketing is about moving a stranger closer to buying a product. The strategies, the funnels, the metrics—all of it is transactional.
But Christianity is the opposite of that. It’s not about convincing people to buy Christ. It’s about Christ purchasing us. The real power of the gospel isn’t in our ability to market it; it’s in the transformative transaction where Christ pays for our sins and we receive the ultimate refund exchanging our stained rags for clean threads.
Marketing relies on incentives to convince a customer to act. It’s built on something flashy enough to catch attention, a pitch strong enough to move people to “buy-in.” But the Gospel isn’t a product; it’s is the byproduct of God’s enduring love for us (Romans 5:8). God isn’t looking for “leads” or “conversions” like a corporation. He’s seeking hearts to transform, not customers to win.
The best “marketing” for Christianity isn’t a campaign or a slogan but a changed life. When people see a real difference in how we live—our humility, our kindness, our integrity—that’s a message louder than any branded t-shirt. The testimony we’re called to isn’t one that demands attention from others but one that quietly draws others in by its strength.
It’s the difference between a marketing mindset and a servant mindset. Unlike a marketing mindset, which focuses on metrics, persuasion, and transactional outcomes, a servant mindset emphasizes authenticity, relationship-building, and long-term, inward transformation for the benefit of others. This shift allows us to prioritize the message and its impact on people’s lives rather than driving results or “conversions.” That’s the heart of our witness—not what we’re selling, but what God, in His grace, is offering.
In a world saturated with ads, the most radical thing we can do is step back from the noise. Focus on our own faith. Build inner fortitude. Let our lives speak for themselves—not with merchandise, but with the quiet, undeniable witness of a life changed by Christ.
Because at the end of the day, the goal isn’t to sell Christianity like a product. We’ve been commoditizing our faith for decades, and now we’re left with an American generation suffering from spiritual buyers’ remorse.
So, let’s pause and ask ourselves: What are we really promoting? Are we living out the truth the gospel, or just trying to sell it? The difference is eternal.