Look, we’ve resurrected just about every other 90s trend. Bucket hats? Back. Baggy jeans? They’re in. Tamagotchis? Somehow still alive. Vinyl? It’s outselling CDs. And yet, one of the biggest cultural phenomenons of the era—the W.W.J.D. bracelet—remains tragically absent from the nostalgia cycle.
This is a mistake.
For those who weren’t haunting the aisles of Family Christian Stores in the late 90s or early 2000s, the W.W.J.D. bracelet was the ultimate evangelical accessory. Worn by youth group kids, CCM artists, and at least one cool youth pastor trying way too hard, these colorful woven bands served as a wearable moral compass. They were a gentle but firm reminder to consider What Would Jesus Do? before making any number of regrettable teenage decisions, like illegally downloading a dc Talk song or agreeing to “evangelize” in the middle of a skatepark.
But by the mid-2000s, W.W.J.D. bracelets had become the punchline of every ironic Christian joke. They were corny. They were overused. They were mass-marketed to the point where they felt less like a spiritual discipline and more like the reward for selling the most World’s Finest Chocolate bars at your private school fundraiser. And let’s be honest—half the kids wearing them weren’t exactly doing what Jesus would do. (Case in point: the guy at church camp who was wearing a W.W.J.D. bracelet while aggressively flirting with three different girls and crying during altar calls.)
So, sure, it’s easy to roll our eyes. But hear me out—maybe it’s time for a comeback.
The Case for a W.W.J.D. Revival
Beyond their throwback aesthetic and inevitable TikTok revival potential (just wait—some Gen Z influencer will call them “vintage faithcore” any day now), the idea behind W.W.J.D. was actually solid. The whole point of asking What would Jesus do? was to stop and consider how faith should inform daily life. And in a world that moves faster than ever, with cultural pressure to react instantly to everything, we could use a little more pause for reflection.
Think about it.
- What would Jesus do… on social media? Would He aggressively comment “FAKE NEWS” on a stranger’s Facebook post? Probably not.
- What would Jesus do in a work conflict? Would He send a vague, passive-aggressive “per my last email” response? Unlikely.
- What would Jesus do at a family gathering? Would He engage in a full-on theological debate with Uncle Rick about the King James Version? Doubtful.
It turns out, a simple W.W.J.D. moment could actually save us from some of our worst impulses. Because, let’s be real—most of the time, what we want to do and what Jesus would do are wildly different things.
And honestly? A little nudge in the right direction wouldn’t hurt.
A Modern Take on an Old Trend
Of course, we don’t need to mass-produce W.W.J.D. bracelets again (unless they come in a tasteful neutral palette to match my minimalist aesthetic). But what if we embraced the heart of the movement in a fresh way?
Imagine a world where we actually paused before reacting, before responding, before spiraling into another heated online debate that will, inevitably, resolve nothing. What if we genuinely stopped to consider, What would Jesus do? not in a holier-than-thou way, but in a way that makes us slow down, think, and maybe—just maybe—choose patience, kindness, and wisdom over instant gratification and snark?
(Okay, maybe not all the time. Jesus flipped tables once, so we can allow some strategic indignation.)
But the reality is, a modern W.W.J.D. moment might help us navigate some of the biggest struggles of our time. Because even though the original bracelets were a little cringe, the sentiment behind them wasn’t. And in a culture obsessed with self-branding, reacting first and thinking later, and generally being Very Online™, a simple question like What would Jesus do? might be one of the healthiest things we could embrace.
So, maybe it’s time. Dust off that old bracelet. Or at least, take the phrase seriously again. After all, if cargo pants and butterfly clips can make a comeback, why not something that could actually change lives?
