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Why Jesus Calling Is Safe But A Course in Miracles Isn't

Why are Christians okay with some books that speak for God, but not others? Let's take a look at that.

I used to think I had a theological filter for what was spiritually safe and what wasn’t. I had frameworks, arguments, convictions. I could tell you exactly why certain books belonged on your nightstand and others didn’t. What I didn’t realize until much later was that my filter wasn’t nearly as theological as I thought it was. It was cultural. And once I saw that, I couldn’t unsee it.

This isn’t a post about whether Jesus Calling is a good book. I’ll be honest — I’ve never read it. It doesn’t particularly speak to me. But it is one of the most useful illustrations I’ve found for a conversation I think a lot of us need to have: why do we accept some spiritual content without question while treating other content as dangerous — even when both are saying essentially the same things?

What Jesus Calling Actually Is

For anyone unfamiliar, Jesus Calling by Sarah Young is a 365-day daily devotional. It sits on nightstands and bedside tables in Christian homes across the world. It has sold tens of millions of copies. A copy was given to my wife by her closest friend during her cancer journey — a woman with a shared theological framework with my wife and loves this book deeply.

What makes Jesus Calling distinct from most devotionals is its format. Most devotionals work like miniature sermons — a Bible verse, some explanation, a story or application for your day. This one is written in the first person, as if Jesus himself is speaking directly to the reader. It reads like a letter from God addressed to you.

That format is worth pausing on, because it’s the very thing that divides people.

The Divide Within Christianity

Depending on which corner of Christianity you inhabit, your reaction to that description will be very different.

In broader evangelical and charismatic circles, Jesus Calling is beloved. People feel met by it. They describe reading it as hearing from God, sensing his presence, receiving what they needed for the day. For millions of Christians, this book has been a genuine source of comfort, clarity, and spiritual nourishment alongside their Scripture reading.

In Reformed and more liturgical circles, the reaction is often the opposite. The concern is straightforward: no human author has the authority to put words in the mouth of Jesus. The Bible is the closed canon of divine revelation. A devotional written as if Jesus is speaking isn’t just presumptuous — it’s potentially dangerous, because it places extrabiblical words on the same level as Scripture. From this view, Jesus Calling isn’t just a questionable book. It’s a theological problem.

Both of these positions exist inside mainstream Christianity. Both are held by sincere, thoughtful people.

Where It Gets Interesting

Here’s what I find genuinely fascinating about this divide: the same Christians who would reject Jesus Calling on theological grounds — and the same Christians who embrace it — will often draw an identical hard line when it comes to books outside the Christian publishing ecosystem.

Take A Course in Miracles. It’s a text that claims to be channeled from Jesus Christ. It speaks extensively about love, forgiveness, the nature of God, and the healing of the mind. It has helped millions of people experience profound spiritual transformation. And the vast majority of Christians — whether they read Jesus Calling or not — would tell you to stay far away from it.

Or consider Daily Moments with the Angels by my good friend Rebecca Kastl, a book of daily messages received from angels and divine beings. Rebecca shares these messages publicly on her YouTube channel every week. Beautiful, loving, life-giving content. Most Christians wouldn’t touch it.

Or tarot and oracle cards — tools I use regularly in my own practice. Cards with images and words on them, the meaning of which comes entirely from within the person using them. In most Christian circles, these are treated as spiritually dangerous, if not outright evil.

Now here is the question I want you to sit with:

What is the actual difference between Jesus Calling and these other sources?

If your answer involves theology — the canon of Scripture, the sufficiency of the Bible, the dangers of extrabiblical revelation — then Jesus Calling should be just as suspect as the rest. It is, after all, a human author claiming to transmit the words of Jesus outside of Scripture.

But if Jesus Calling gets a pass while the others don’t, I’d suggest the filter being applied isn’t theological. It’s something else entirely.

The Label is the Filter

The actual dividing line, as far as I can tell, is simple: Jesus Calling has the Christian label. The others don’t.

It was written by a Christian author. It was published by a Christian publisher. It is sold in Christian bookstores and promoted in Christian churches. It carries the cultural markers of safety that the evangelical world has learned to recognize. The label says: This is ours. This is approved. You can trust this.

A Course in Miracles doesn’t have that label. Rebecca Kastl doesn’t have that label. Tarot cards certainly don’t have that label. And so, without the label, the content doesn’t get examined on its own merits. It gets categorized as other (or evil) — and dismissed.

I worked in Christian publishing during the time my former employer owned Olive Tree, a Bible software platform. I’ve seen how that ecosystem works from the inside. I understand how content gets packaged, marketed, and stamped with approval. And I can tell you that the label is doing an enormous amount of theological work that most people don’t realize.

The label isn’t just a marketing category. For many Christians, it functions as a spiritual clearance. If it’s Christian, it’s safe. If it isn’t, it isn’t.

The Oracle Deck Test

Here’s a thought experiment that I think makes this concrete.

Imagine someone created an oracle card deck — beautiful artwork, fifty cards, each carrying a word of encouragement. And imagine that deck was filled with Scripture references, endorsed by a popular pastor, sold on Christian retail sites, and marketed as a daily devotional tool for believers.

I suspect it would sell extraordinarily well. People would pull a card in the morning the same way they open Jesus Calling — seeking a word, a sense of direction, something to carry into the day.

But functionally, what would be different from the oracle decks already in existence? The mechanism would be identical. The experience would be nearly identical. The only meaningful difference would be the label on the box.

That’s not a theological distinction. That’s a cultural one.

What This Means for Those of Us Outside the Box

If you’re someone who has walked away from traditional Christianity — or who is in the process of finding your own way — this pattern matters. Because it explains something that can feel very confusing from the outside.

It can seem like the objection to certain spiritual tools or texts is principled and doctrinal. And sometimes it is. The Reformed critique of Jesus Calling is at least internally consistent, even if I no longer share it. But more often than not, the objection isn’t coming from a carefully reasoned theological position. It’s coming from cultural reflex. Something feels unsafe because it doesn’t carry the right markers. It doesn’t have the label.

Understanding this frees you from a particular kind of guilt. If you’ve felt drawn to A Course in Miracles, or to oracle cards, or to voices outside the Christian publishing world — and you’ve also felt like you were doing something wrong — it’s worth asking: wrong according to what, exactly? A careful theological argument, or a cultural filter you inherited without examining?

The Filter I Use Now

I’m not suggesting there should be no filter. Discernment matters. Not everything that presents itself as spiritual truth is worth receiving.

But the filter I use now isn’t about the label on the cover. It’s about the fruit of the content. Does it lead toward love? Does it call me deeper into compassion, alignment, and genuine care for others and myself? Does it carry the qualities that, across traditions, have always been associated with divine presence — peace, clarity, healing, the expansion of the heart?

If the answer is yes, I’m willing to receive it — regardless of what shelf it came from.

Jesus Calling passes that test for millions of people. So does A Course in Miracles. So does Rebecca Kastl’s work. So do the tarot and oracle cards sitting on my desk. The label is different. The fruit is remarkably similar.

That tells me the filter was never really about theology. It was about trust. And trust that’s built entirely on a label is worth examining.

A Closing Thought

I want to be careful here, because I’m not trying to dismiss the tradition I came from. There are sincere, thoughtful people in every branch of Christianity — including the ones that would reject everything I’ve just described. Their concerns are real, even when I no longer share them.

But I think there’s an honest conversation worth having about the gap between the theological arguments Christians articulate and the cultural instincts they actually operate from. Most of us, myself included for a long time, weren’t examining our sources with the rigor we thought we were. We were trusting the label.

The invitation isn’t to throw out all discernment. It’s to trade a borrowed filter for one you’ve actually thought through.

What are you actually looking for when you open a spiritual book or pull a card or sit down with a devotional? What would it mean if God could speak through more containers than the ones you’ve been taught to recognize?

That’s the question worth sitting with.