Stop listening to “young men.”
This was the title of a Harrison Burnette piece I came across on Substack shortly after I started following him a few weeks ago.
In his essay, Burnette bemoans a specific set of cultural narratives that has gained traction in recent months vis-à-vis so-called “young” men, particularly in North America.
“Young men are flocking back to church!”
“Young men are hungry for tradition!”
“Young men are tired of the woke left!”
“We need to listen to young men!”
Burnette describes himself as “sick of these absurd catch-alls” and stands especially opposed to the last of the above statements, i.e., the idea that the world ought to listen to young men. He is confused as to what this listening is even meant to entail and, most of all, he is deeply skeptical of the notion that listening to the “disaffected” North American young man in 2025 is likely to yield anything good.
Really, at no point in history was it particularly wise to listen to young men, but especially not at this point in our cultural moment, when the internet intentionally gives rise to the most extreme and vile ideology due to its profit margin.
It is well worth clarifying that Burnette is himself only twenty-two years old (roughly a year younger than me) and therefore technically part of the very demographic he “so desperately [wishes] to be disassociated from.” He believes that what himself and other young men really need is “mature mentors who will guide them through the pitfalls of online radicalization and to a deep understanding of being Christ’s beloved.” He concludes his post with the following line:
Please don’t listen to “young men.” Love them.
I could not agree with him more on the importance of mentorship in the lives of young men. I have myself written about the need for this gift in my own life. Funny enough, within a few hours of my releasing the post where I most explicitly alluded to my need for mentorship, I received a text message from Adam Wowchuk — a key leader at my local church — inviting me to have dinner with him and his family that very night. It has been a joy to do life and grow closer with him in the weeks since.
I have also been similarly blessed by my pastor, Father Chad, and his willingness to take me under his wing — be it on a pickleball court or on a ministry trip.
What, then, is my beef with Burnette’s essay?
My beef with Stop listening to “young men” is the condescending tone which it adopts towards the men it brands as socially awkward, weird and stupid. It almost reminds me of Mark Driscoll’s infamous “how dare you” sermon in its disposition towards lost, underachieving and sinful Christian men.
“If this were a women’s conference, I would not call you all idiots, and imbeciles, and fools, and that you’re a joke,” stated Driscoll at the beginning of his sermon. In his opening prayer, he had described the majority of men in his congregation as “silent, passive, impish, worthless.” But it got even better:
Some of you guys are such losers. You’re a joke. Some of you guys are in your mid-20s, you still haven’t become a member of the church, you can’t find your Bible, you’re not in a community group, you don’t have any guys to speak into your life. You’re trying to find a woman. You don’t even know what you’re doing. You’re a joke. You think you’re cute. You’re not. You’re a joke. You’re a freaking joke. And deep down you know it.
To be fair to Driscoll, Jesus himself was known to use harsh language from time to time. Take for example His sevenfold rebuke of hypocritical Jewish scribes and Pharisees in Matthew 23 — the most famous part of which appears in verse 27:
Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness.
One might argue in light of such a verse that preachers like Driscoll are more than justified in yelling at the sinners in their pews. And perhaps they are.
But the superior beauty of Jesus’s ministry was that beyond merely yelling at men from an ivory tower or simply listening to mankind’s woes from the comfort of His heavenly home, He took on human flesh and actually walked in our shoes. In doing this, He accomplished two things.
Firstly, He showed us how to live.
I am reminded of the following quote from Ohio pastor Michael Foster:
My wrestling coach didn’t get the best out of me by whispering sweet words to me softly. He’d say things like “Foster, you sissy. Is that all you’ve got? If you want to wrestle for me, you’ll need to do better.”
But my wrestling coach also taught me how to wrestle, told me what to do in between periods, praised me when I did well, and encouraged me when I failed.
Broadly speaking, I think the biggest things missing from most ministries to men is practical instruction and consistent encouragement.
A lot of guys really don’t know “how to be a man.” Telling such men to “man up” accomplishes very little. The only type of men who will stay under that sort of ministry is men who are given to self-loathing and desperate for male validation of any kind.
It is hardly an understatement to claim that apart from Jesus, we simply do not know how to be human. In coming down from heaven to be Immanuel (God with us), Jesus modelled for humankind what “life that really is life” actually looks like. In this sense, He is the ultimate mentor to all the lost souls among us.
Secondly, Jesus’s incarnation simply means that He gets us.
According to Hebrews 4:14-16:
Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
What a profoundly beautiful truth it is that Jesus understands the various hardships of our earthly lives. What a profoundly beautiful truth it is that Jesus is able to sympathize with human weakness. It is a truth so profound and so beautiful that it completely reframes all of God’s commands.
I was reflecting earlier today on what a difference it makes when one of my faithful readers comments on how to improve Zoomed In as compared to when someone who has barely engaged with the publication does the same thing.
“Have you thought about writing multiple essays in one go so you’re not always scrambling to get them out on Monday/Tuesday nights?” somehow hits completely differently depending on the level of someone’s appreciation for the work I put into authoring this blog to begin with. In the same way, we do not have a dispassionate high priest whose laws are communicated flippantly and with no regard for the embodied realities of attempting to live them out. Rather, we have a high priest who fully grasps the challenge of being a godly human on this side of eternity.
This was the message I attempted to convey to men in recovery when I and fellow parishioners at Emmaus Road Anglican Church sat down to write them Christmas notes after church on Sunday. I encouraged the men I wrote to, to rejoice in the fact that God gets them this Christmas season—not so that they might revel in their sinful patterns, but so that their hearts would be softened to what God can do in their lives through the power of His Gospel.
This is my same message to my fellow young men. Jesus gets you. And, better yet, He has paved the way before you towards Eternal Life. All you have to do is follow.
And, with that, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!
P.S. Since I went after Harrison Burnette at the top of this post, let me now take this opportunity to plug the first issue of his quarterly journal, “Everyday Epiklesis.” The issue is entitled Adventus Domini and I am excited to dive into it as I reflect further on the beautiful mystery of the Incarnation this Christmas.
This made me think of 1 Timothy 4:12, but what I appreciated most is that the piece doesn’t stop at the verse. It opens up the deeper question of how age, authority, formation, and faith actually shape us over time. It feels less like a citation and more like an invitation to take growth seriously, wherever we are placed.
Sacha, thank you for your careful engagement with my essay. You get to the real heart of it and don’t make any uncharitable strawmen or anything of the like.
I think critiquing the tone is a fair point, it is a pretty angry essay. I will object to the style and/or substance being compared alongside the likes of Mark Driscoll, however. If anything, it’s the Mark Driscoll types that the essay means to rebuke. You know, the ones who love edgy stuff just because it’s edgy. The ones who play with racist theology because it’s exciting to hold an idea so repugnant to everyone around you. That was Mark Driscoll’s thing. Shock value and “hardness.”
The major difference between Driscoll and the figures in my essay is the internet and online communities. I mean to critique the replacement of online community for real mentorship and the obvious host of bad ideas that come along with that kind of behavior.
So I do feel it’s worth mentioning that I do not mean to criticize this demographic for being socially awkward or not masculine enough. Nor necessarily even for being young, although I do lean on that a lot. I more so mean to say that historically the Church has realized young men often have disproportionately inflamed passions and affections, and if those aren’t carefully monitored, things can go bad very quick. the Nick Fuentes crowd is an example of things going bad very quick. My primary criticism is that there is a legitimate evil associated with this movement, and it ought to be ridiculed so nobody finds it to be appealing anymore. And as such, the young men swept up by it ought to be loved and shown the better way forward.
I’ll cap my thoughts there while reiterating that I think you make some great points here. Thanks again for your engagement with my work and especially for plugging the new journal!
If we’re ever in the same area, would love to grab a drink and chat. Blessings and Merry Christmas.