When we did PornSunday on October 9, 2005, a writer for Hustler
magazine came to Arcade Church in Sacramento to see what this was all
about. Here is the article that is online and in the magazine now. Just
so you all know, October 7, 2007 the NEW PornSunday.

Jesus Goes XXX

Porn Sunday events being held at churches across the country claim
to cure “lost souls” of their sleazy porn addiction. By Harmon Leon

“Porn is the hate literature of our time,” I read from Think Before You
Look, a book about America’s addiction to pornography and how it can be
“cured” through religion. Paging through the publication, I sneak a
glance at the large, pinch-faced woman standing next to me.

“Today’s sermon was nothing short of powerful,” I say. Making the
universal “jerking-off” hand motion, I reveal, “I used to work it about
a dozen times a day—sometimes two dozen.” For effect, I add a guttural
moan.

“My husband’s testimony is in that book,” the lady points out
matter-of-factly, almost proud of the claim. I read her husband’s
testimony aloud: “Internet porn soon made me sexually disinterested in
my wife.” How surprising! Who would’ve thought a man would become bored
with this stuffy prude? Welcome to Porn Sunday.

Seventy U.S. churches are hosting events to “address the porn epidemic
in our country.” Pastors Craig Gross and Mike Foster—the stiffs behind
“the number-one Christian porn site,” XXXchurch.com—founded Porn Sunday
with the intent of bringing America “out of the porn closet.”

I decide to spend my Porn Sunday at the Arcade Baptist Church in
Sacramento, California. Outside, the parking lot spills over with cars.
A big, pink PORN SUNDAY banner waves proudly in the wind. I’ve taken it
upon myself to attend undercover, in order to fit in with the crowd. I
go as Dirk Saddler (a slightly porn star-sounding name), dressed in
slacks that fit too tightly and a pair of flashy shoes. My life story
is simple: I am a former porn addict who lost it all, everything. But
I’ve redeemed myself by becoming addicted to Jesus Christ.

Inside the sweltering church a guy onstage plays guitar. Every
available pew is occupied; there must be at least a few hundred people
in here. Many of them put their hands on their foreheads and close
their eyes, absorbed in some sort of prayer. The words DIRTY LITTLE
SECRET are projected on a large screen.

“Welcome,” proclaims the wannabe-cool orator, Pastor Jake Larson. “Many
of you haven’t been here before.” Casually dressed in jeans and an
untucked shirt, he speaks confidently from his pulpit. I take my place
between a man who’s sweating profusely and a jarhead buried in his
Bible. “Take some time to self-reflect,” Pastor Jake instructs the
congregation.

We learn “Dirty Little Secret” is actually the title of a skit. A
husband and wife sit at a kitchen table on the stage, along with a prop
refrigerator and some children’s toys. The wife fumes about an incident
at work. “Jeff, that sleazy computer tech who sits next me? You know
what he said when he gave me the new computer? ‘Don’t let your husband
visit any dirty Web sites.’” “I have something to tell you,” the
husband confesses. “I visited a porn site.”

The wife gasps along with the entire congregation. “You used my work computer to look at pictures of naked women?!”

“It’s not just naked women I look at,” the husband laments. He never
describes exactly what else he enjoys, but judging by his appearance,
I’m thinking either guy-on-guy action or Brazilian monkey sex. The
curtain falls, and the skit ends with the feeling of pure shame—surely
this marriage is finished because of porn. A murmur runs through the
church; a cell phone jingles a gospel music ringtone.

“This is just a glimpse of the many stories impacting our community,” Pastor Jake warns as those around me shake their heads.

“And it’s coming to a home near you! I’m not talking about a little bit
of porn. I’m talking about a lot of porn.” An old guy with a cane gets
up and leaves with his blond assistant, grumbling on his way out.

Pastor Jake talks about an e-mail he received from a 12-year-old
girl struggling with a porn addiction. He says the message was written
while she was crying, sitting in front of alcohol and sleeping pills.
Obviously, Pastor Jake says, Satan is giving her nightmares. Another
e-mail came to him from a man in his 50s who claims to spend $500 per
month on porn. The poor chap went to jail because of his addiction and
now asks, “Please pray for me and keep me from porn and fornication.”

“Sexual impurity is the number-one thing keeping us from following
Jesus!” Pastor Jake preaches. A big-haired lady gets up and walks from
the church, shaking her head. The “cool” preacher’s voice quivers:
“Porn gives an image of sexuality which isn’t what God created. It’s an
unfair image of women that you can’t live up to!” Those who’ve stuck it
out respond with fervent clapping and Amen-shouting.

“Porn is destroying,” Pastor Jake says twice with distaste, sounding
as if he’s about to cry. He claims the trajectory of a porn addict goes
from glancing at Victoria’s Secret catalogs to becoming a pedophile.
“When you think your kids are sharing music, it’s porn.”

“Wives, it’s time to talk to your husbands. And, husbands, it’s time to
talk to your wives. If you don’t go public now, I’ll speak to you 20
years in the future when it has ruined your lives. Go public, go
public, go public!”

According to Porn Sunday organizers, steps should be taken to save
oneself from XXX addiction. “Accountability software” should be
installed on all home and work computers, which will e-mail a friend if
you look at questionable Web sites. Appoint one person in your house to
check what sites you’ve looked at by erasing the “history” on your
computer. Pastor Jake says to porn addicts, “Get rid of your computer.
You can check your e-mail elsewhere. Or ruin your life.” He also says
to block some TV shows, since (according to him) pornography is now on
television. “Spend more time with God’s word, less time on TV,” he
offers, turning to a row of giggling, slightly disinterested teens.
“I’m really messing you guys up today,” he admits to them with a
glowing smile. “But I’m saving your life. Today is a great day because
the secret you kept so long is rising to the surface.”

Next, Jack is brought up on stage—a large, goateed man wearing
shorts and a red, picnic-table-patterned shirt. Jack is a former porn
addict who uses today’s hip-hop language to make an impact on youth.

“Yo!” he begins, telling it like it is. “Pornography went into my home
and destroyed my marriage. Satan is pimpin’ this generation, and the
first stop is the church. We’ve chosen the role of the ho! The devil’s
a pimp; don’t be his ho. Let Jesus be your pimp. Say no to porn. No
porn!”

To my surprise, the event extends well into the evening with the
screening of a movie called Missionary Positions, followed by a prayer
session, in the church gym. For this, I’ve enlisted the services of a
busty stripper friend of mine to pose as “Sapphire,” Dirk Saddler’s
beautiful new Christian bride. I’d invited her to torture the sad men
at Porn Sunday, so she’s dressed in a tight, see-through belly shirt
that leaves little to the imagination.

The gym is filled with both young and old people. A tense couple sit in
silence. A guy with a beard and mullet shifts uncomfortably while
picking his teeth, his wife rigid beside him. A girl comforts her
boyfriend by patting his back. A fat mother in yellow and her teenage
daughter stare straight ahead. All of these people are porn addicts.

“I already got phone calls from couples who were here and opened up
about porn,” Pastor Jake says to the crowd, just before introducing the
film. “You may see a few things you might not desire to see, but this
is real.”

The documentary follows Porn Sunday founders Craig and Mike, who fanned
the flames of antiporndom by erecting a booth at last year’s Erotica LA
exposition, where they gave out T-shirts emblazoned with the message
“Jesus Loves Porn Stars.”

Surrounded by a sea of scantily clad adult talent and explicit sex
toys, the two come off in the film as funny, likable characters. One of
their wives even helps at the booth by wearing a bunny costume and
allowing herself to be groped. Back in the church gym, a man cringes
when he watches a porn star push her huge tits together. Feeling a bit
hungover, my fake wife Sapphire excuses herself and leaves. “She’s
easily offended,” I whisper to the woman next to me, who understands
perfectly.

“Everyone who comes in this room, the voice of God is stirring in your
heart,” a second “hip” pastor says after Missionary Positions
concludes. “If you want to come up and pray, please feel free to do
so.” He suggests that we write down “prayer requests” and put them into
a straw basket on the stage.

Making a beeline toward the basket, I’m the first to toss in a
request. My prayer reads, “Please, God, if I look at porn again, be
sure to cut off my thingy.” So far, I’ve steered clear of His wrath.

I get onto my knees in “prayer position” next to a man who’s lying
on his stomach with his arms spread out. After repeating my prayer for
a minute, I approach one of the “prayer counselors” stationed against a
sidewall. I shamelessly confess my faux porn addiction to this chunky
woman who will supposedly pray for me.

“What are you struggling with?” she asks.

“Since quitting porn, I’m now highly turned on by Redbook,” I say in
a hushed tone. “Please pray for me.” Putting her hand on my shoulder,
she says that the Good Lord is watching over me and that He will help
me overcome my addiction.

Thank God for Porn Sunday!