Should A Christian Attend A Gay Wedding
And The Question Nobody Is Asking
I was sent a video today from an outspoken Australian pastor—one of those prophets in cargo pants who leans forward into the camera like he’s about to tell you the world is ending and also sell you a protein supplement. I’ll link it below and then respond with my own thoughts.
This is a hot topic right now, isn’t it? Gay marriage. Pride month. Rainbow capitalism. The slow cultural drift that has carried us so far from shore most people don’t even realize we’re lost. And let’s face it—everyone has a gay friend, a gay cousin, or at the very least a coworker who uses the word “partner” and makes you hesitate for a beat before you respond. And since Obergefell, it feels like “gay marriage” is here to stay in the West—codified in the laws and baked into the corporate ad campaigns.
Meanwhile, the universities have done—and continue to do—a breathtakingly efficient job of bleeding out the last ounce of civilizational confidence from the West. They’ve taught an entire generation to believe their heritage is toxic, their ancestors were monsters, and their traditions are little more than outdated costumes for Halloween. We’re not in a shooting war yet, but make no mistake: we are in a civil war of ideas. And this one’s arguably more dangerous because it doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels normal.
There are two kinds of Westerners now:
Those who love their countries, their cults, their cultures.
And those who loathe them—sneering at their traditions like Bolsheviks with Twitter accounts.
The first group sees the West as something worth defending, flaws and all, because they understand what Christopher Dawson so brilliantly observed: there is no culture without cult. Spirituality—not geography—is the feeder system for all human attempts to find meaning and belonging. Our traditions—weddings, flags, family tables—are downstream from worship. Kill the cult and the culture will follow, rotting in place like a cut flower in a vase.
The second group—the West-haters—reject all of this. They are the ideological heirs of the Bolsheviks:
Collectivists over individualists: They persecute dissenters, worship groupthink, and vilify anyone who won’t kiss the ring of the trending orthodoxy.
Marxist socialists over hegemonic capitalists: They assume the poor are morally superior, the rich are vampires, and the collective is angelic in its ability to “make choices for the good of all.”
Anti-nationalists and pro-globalists: They see the self-determination of nations (and families) as the problem. Everyone must submit to the collective hive mind.
Religiously allergic: They hate all religion but their own—and their religion is raw instinct dressed up as compassion.
History is not silent about how this plays out. The original Bolsheviks—many of them secular Jews living on the margins of Russian society—pulled off a stunning coup because they had nothing to lose. They killed the Czar, slaughtered nearly every priest in the Orthodox Church, and plunged Russia into an 80-year tailspin of starvation and steel-fisted rule from which they’ve only recently begun to crawl out.
This is why you cannot allow a large constituency of nationally displaced persons in your society—they will have no loyalty to the soil or the symbols—and historically they can pull a coup. Meanwhile, the average family man does nothing because he’s too busy paying his mortgage—unless he is well-armed and remembers what he’s protecting. America is battle ready, the rest of the West is sadly not.
The self-hatred metastasizing in Western politics is not accidental. It’s strategic.
So yes, Christians ought to see their resistance to the desecration of tradition as a kind of civil war—a cultural, moral, and spiritual one—and take it seriously.
But here’s where I diverge slightly from the loudest voices: I think there’s still a window to be winsome. The West is in its valley of decision. Not everyone is an Orc—doomed to destruction, a “brute beast made to be caught and destroyed” (2 Peter 2:12). Some are more like Gondor: poorly led, confused, vulnerable, but still human.
If we can speak with clarity and conviction—and yes, with love—we might still rouse Gondor before the darkness fully sets in.
Here is the clip, my response, and how I believe we can answer this question and win over our culture:
