LGBTQ activists pretty excited Josh Weed is getting divorced, rejects idea that Christ can deliver you from same-sex fleshly desire

Nothing excites the enemies of the cross more than when a professing believer in Christ falls morally, except maybe when that same fallen Christian claims to have realized as a result that biblical truth was wrong all along.

The story of Josh Weed appears to fit that template to a T. This was a guy who had indicated publicly that he had homosexual desires, but had overcome them out of a desire to be obedient to God, and had built a successful marriage with a woman named Lolly.

Weed was the gay community’s worst nightmare, or so it seemed, as he appeared to demonstrate that the power of Christ was more powerful than the desires of the flesh.

Well, that’s over. Josh and Lolly Weed have announced that they’re divorcing, and while Weed’s public statement on this is way too long to excerpt in a way that will do you much good, I do want to include one particular passage, because he really gives away the game that this was a surrender to an agenda rather than any sort of move of the heart with God involved:

We went on like this for a long time, and I challenged Ben, sometimes with a bit of anger, as my entire concept of self, harmful as it was, was challenged by his persistent love and acceptance. I made him explain it as clearly as he could, in various ways. “How could an aberration be beautiful,” I was insisting. “How?” He finally thought of two analogies that broke through my resistance. The first was eyes. Blue eyes, he pointed out, were an aberration form the norm. Dark eyes were the biological default in humans, and blue eyes were an aberration, a genetic defect even. Yet some consider them to be very beautiful. Then he moved on to the second example. “Josh, there’s beauty in variation. So much of what we find beautiful is variation! Like, look at the Grand Canyon. People travel for thousands and thousands of miles to see the Grand Canyon and its majestic beauty. And what makes it so beautiful? It’s an aberration. It is a variation of the norm. And we love it.”
At last it clicked in, tentatively. Was it possible that my sexual orientation was beautiful? That it was beautiful in the same way blue eyes can be beautiful? In the same way the Grand Canyon is majestic and lovely, attracting admirers from around the world? Could it be that my sexual orientation wasn’t a mistake? That it was part of the diversity and variety that brings nuance to our planet and to humanity? And that God meant it to be that way?
That night I talked to Lolly and told her all Ben had said, still with a vein of skepticism. “Can you believe he said that?” was the feeling behind my words. And she sat for a moment thinking, then said something that surprised us both. “Josh, Ben is right. You aren’t just a broken straight person. Your gayness is a part of who you are. And your sexual orientation is beautiful. You are as God intended you to be.” Though we had never fully embraced these ideas as reality before, we felt the spirit confirm them powerfully in that moment. The truth of Lolly’s words rang in our bodies.
And if I wasn’t a broken straight person, and my sexual orientation was beautiful—if in fact I wasn’t a mistake–what did that mean for us and for our marriage? At the time, the implications didn’t matter to us. We had both promised to be together, to be a family. We are both true to our word, and we both adored in many ways the life we’d created together. We assumed God would never lead us to feel otherwise. But we were suddenly very, very interested in making sure that other LGBT people felt the beauty of their sexual orientation just like we had come to know the beauty of mine. And we were suddenly able to see more clearly the pain that my sexual orientation brought to our marriage. It hurt us both very deeply, and we spent many long nights holding one another and weeping as we thought of the decades to come for us, neither of us experiencing real romantic love. We were determined to work hard to help make sure that nobody else felt pressured to enter into marriages like ours, or had to feel the intense pain our love for each other brought us during those long, dark nights.

Love for his wife is little more than an afterthought for Weed here. He hardly even deals with the issue of his covenant commitment to her. He is far more concerned with the message it sends other homosexuals when he remains committed to his wife.

It sounds to me like Weed was feeling increasingly guilty at the way his marriage to a woman was being used by his own church, and he decided to stop representing a victory for them and turn his life into a victory for gay activists instead.

The impact on his wife and kids is hardly a consideration.

Now, let’s look at some crucial issues here:

The Bible says  homosexual sex is sin.  (Romans 1:26-27 just for starters.) It also says Christ has the power to deliver you from urges of the flesh. What I have long contended is that whether you are “born gay” is irrelevant. If you have a fleshly desire to do something forbidden in Scripture, then you need to be delivered via the authority of Christ from that desire.

The question here is not whether Weed’s decision to divorce his wife proves this is impossible. It’s whether Weed ever did this in the first place. If you read his whole statement, it is clear he did not.

Why do I say that? Because the discussion of his journey is rife with references to the rules of the Mormon church and of the pressure Weed felt to comply with these rules. It’s clear he was ravaged with guilt over his homosexual impulses, but was trying to live in compliance with what his church leaders told him he was supposed to do.

At no point does he mention ever having repented of the desire for homosexual sex or of having sought deliverance in Christ. All he was trying to do was please the Mormon rule makers. He wasn’t acting out of love for Christ. And he certainly had no notion of the idea that he should be living by the spirit and not by the flesh.

Weed’s failure (I know he doesn’t see it as a failure but by every standard of Scripture it is) came from the fact that he never really stopped loving his fleshly impulses. He was merely play-acting the idea of having put them aside.

I am not a Mormon, obviously, and I don’t know if Mormons put any emphasis on repentance or deliverance. I sort of suspect they don’t, but those of you who know more about it are welcome to enlighten me if I’m off on that.

Part of this may be a failure of Mormon theology insofar as Weed was just pressured to conform rather than really being led to deliverance.

But it’s not only Mormons who have that problem. There are plenty of evangelical Christians who are also play-acting victory over sin and haven’t really repented or experienced true deliverance. That’s why they stumble and fall as easily and frequently as they do.

That’s the real story here – not just that Mormonism is a false belief system (although it may very well be) or that the gay agenda has claimed another win. The real story here is that you can’t live with authority over sin if you don’t humble yourself in submission before Christ.

That’s the one thing clearly missing in Josh Weed’s story here, and it’s the only thing you need to know to understand why he’s fallen.

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