Is wellbeing the new Gospel?

Green goo with a zen font in Sainsbury’s is now on special offer. The next package from tropics has gone up by 25%. A hot salt sauna has now opened up in Hamworthy park while others buy electronics to keep their pools at freezing temperatures all year round. We don’t just want to live anymore. We want to thrive. We want to optimise. We want to glow. Well I sure do anyway.

Apparently, the wellbeing industry around the world is worth $5.6 trillion. I’m not even sure how to quantify that number. It’s more than the GDP of the UK. More than we spend globally on education. More than we spend on normal pharmaceutics (and I thought that industry was bad enough). And it’s more than the combined value of Apple and Microsoft. It’s one of the biggest profit making machines on the planet- helping millions of people feel better.

But its built on an ache. We need to feel healthier, more alive. More whole and more connected. But we appear to still be lonely, overstimulated. We’re anxious and confused. We aren’t quite done yet because there is always something left to improve.

Wellbeing, at its core, should be simple: Move your body in ways you enjoy. Eat real food, including plants. Drink water. Get enough sleep. See your friends. Get outside. Get some sun. Do things that bring you life.

I’m grateful for more opportunities to exercise, more knowledge to read. Don’t get me wrong. We have more language available to us now. We speak freely about mental health and emotional wellbeing. We are able to articulate more clearly our feelings and teach our children why their personalities might affect their behaviour. I think my challenge is when healing becomes a transaction. 

Instead of keeping it simple, the wellness industry has built a mythology around it—one that says it’s complicated, elite, hard to get right, and best delivered by a certified guru in a stylish outfit. What should be common sense has been wrapped in jargon, monetised, and made mysterious. The result? A lifestyle that was once about rhythm and relationship has become a labyrinth of products, plans, and programs. Wellness isn’t just lived anymore—it’s bought.

Can’t sleep?- Try this new app

Bad gut health?- Here’s a new powder

Achy bones?- Holistic spa treatments are available


Funny isn’t it- so many of us are uncomfortable with the language of sin and forgiveness but we are prepared to spend trillions on broken and fixed? 

If healing becomes a transaction then I think we are still stuck in a system that broke us in the first place. The real sickness is not just inflammation or bad sleep. It’s the belief that you are something to be fixed. That your value lies in how effectively you function. That your worth increases with every green juice and downward dog. That wholeness is something you perform for others. If we stay in that place then the industry has you right where they want you.

The reason all this is on my mind is because at Ocean Church, we tap into aspects of wellbeing all the time- and I love it. It’s one of the things that makes us special. We paddle, we walk, we swim in cold water, we share food outside, we listen to the wind in the woods and we try to slow down. We do believe that movement, nature, the outdoors, silence- pave the way to wholeness and connection. They matter. They’re good. They’re gifts. So this isn’t a rant. It’s a question. 

What happens when wellness becomes a gospel of its own? 

Are there bits of the wellbeing industry which can begin to promise things it can’t deliver? 


The wellness industry says 

If it hurts, fix it. Fast.

The gospel says 

Sit in the pain. It might be where God is breaking the soil for something new. 


The wellness industry says 

You are enough. Just align your energy and you’ll find peace.

The gospel says 

You are loved- even when you’re a mess. Peace isn’t an absence of conflict. Peace is a person who finds you.


The wellness industry says:

We can fix you—but it’s gonna cost ya

But the gospel says:

Come, you who have no money. Come and eat. Come and rest. Grace is free—because it cost everything.


The wellness industry says 

Follow your bliss

The gospel says 

Follow Jesus. Sometimes through desert. Sometimes through wonder. Always towards death and resurrection. 


The wellness industry says 

Detox your life. Cut out toxic people. Protect your vibe

The gospel says 

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. 


Jesus didn’t come offering self-care routines or inner peace hacks. He didn’t hand out scented oils and tell people to manifest abundance. His healing wasn’t about achieving a higher state- it was about restoring relationship. With God. With others. With ourselves. He didn’t avoid pain, he entered it. He touched lepers. Sat with the grieving. Walked into storms. He wasn’t afraid of the mess, and he never charged admission. Where the wellness industry often says, “Fix yourself so you can be worthy,” Jesus says “you’re already loved- now let’s walk together.” His way was slow. Embodied. Communal. Inconvenient. Full of interruptions. But always moving towards wholeness that didn't just make you feel better- it made you new. 

Everyone shares the same spiritual longing. We all have a soul. We all want to go home. I’m just not sure that becoming restored and whole is all about you- and I’m not sure it’s about being a transaction. 

I love green juice and saltwater and downward dogs as much as the next man. I love talking therapy and cold dips and nutritional advice. I love that we want to become happier healthy people. 

These are amazing gifts. But they aren’t the giver. 


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