In a mesmerizing display of theological acrobatics, porn star “pastors,” Stephen and Angela Dela Cruz of Living Faith Church in San Diego, have offered their justification for merging the worlds of dirty adult films and leading a “church.” In a recent video clip, Stephen Dela Cruz presented a rationale for this bizarre behavior that is more suited for a Jerry Springer show.
“How do y’all make it work with being a porn star pastor?” Dela Cruz begins, reading a question from a listener before diving into a convoluted explanation that is as baffling as it is foolish. According to Dela Cruz, they started their “church” because no other church would accept them—but, get this, not because of their involvement in pornography, but because, well, everyone is a sinner.
Who knew that the primary qualification for founding a church was the inability to find one that would overlook your glaring, unrepentant sin?
In a masterclass of deflection, Dela Cruz recounts the tale of a local pastor who fell from grace after an affair. He seems to imply that because this pastor sinned, the rest of the church leadership world should just accept sin as an inevitable part of the job. “Guess what, they have sin, they sin too,” Dela Cruz says, as if the ubiquity of sin somehow normalizes his wife’s chosen profession.
But wait, there’s more. Besides the biblical qualification of the pastorate being limited to men, Dela Cruz dismisses the rest of the biblical standards for pastoral leadership, namely, being above reproach, as unrealistic. “If anyone actually lives up to the actual standard, no movie pastors,” he said, apparently unaware that the existence of sin doesn’t negate the call to strive for holiness. It’s almost as if he believes that since perfection is unattainable, we might as well embrace sin openly and without consequence.
In perhaps the most telling part of his justification, Dela Cruz challenges critics by asking when they last committed a sin. This line of questioning is meant to turn the spotlight away from his own sin, suggesting that because everyone sins, no one has the right to call out his particular brand of public immorality. It’s a classic “whataboutism” that deflects rather than addresses the core issue.
The pièce de résistance of Dela Cruz’s argument is his vision of a church for “rejects.” Apparently, this church exists to embrace those who feel judged by real churches—those who prefer to revel in their sins rather than repent of them. “Let’s love Jesus together, period,” he concludes, as if this catchphrase absolves them of the need for any further explanation or accountability.
Honestly, it goes without saying that their so-called church is a sham, a refuge for those seeking validation for their sin rather than redemption from it. In the end, their version of “ministry” is nothing more than a desperate attempt to legitimize their own depravity.