I was AWOL from social media for nearly a decade, and when I finally returned, I thought I’d live in a little corner of the internet and be left alone—living out my Christian faith as an Orthodox Christian, occasionally posting or reposting a few quotes from the great Saints of church history, and, for the most part, minding my own business.
But this is the Streaming 2020s… and apart from living in a convent or monastery, nothing and no one gets to be left alone in this age of loudness. Squeaking out a quiet existence is nearly impossible—just look at who the current president is, for goodness’ sake. There’s nothing quiet about the Streaming ’20s. Not by a long shot.
And so, inevitably, I was bound to learn about the OrthoBros—those who have stormed the gates of social media, swords drawn, ready to challenge anyone who dares question their philosophical and theological conclusions.
There is no shortage of opinions on social networks—or, as Professor Postman once said, “They are more accurately called feelings than opinions, as that is what they really are.” Whether atheist, Muslim, Roman Catholic, Protestant, conservative, liberal, or otherwise, everyone has something to say. However, for a religion that has spent the last 2,000 years elevating heroes who ran away from society and tried to hide from the public eye (Saint Mary of Egypt and Saint Anthony of the Desert come to mind), it’s fascinating to observe Protestant converts to Orthodox Christianity wearing the badge of “OrthoBro” rather proudly—producing in-your-face podcasts, online debates, and more.
Simply type “OrthoBro” into a search engine, and you’ll find endless Reddit threads and articles detailing how “awful,” “mean,” or “un-Christian” this varied group of relatively popular social media personalities are to those who challenge their presuppositions.
As an Orthodox Christian myself, I had never heard of any of these people—despite the fact that massive numbers of young adults (often men) cling to their latest post or debate du jour. I didn’t find Orthodox Christianity through a website or YouTube video; nearly 27 years ago, I walked into an evangelical bookstore where the owner had a passion for stocking books from every Christian tradition. He had an entire section on Eastern Orthodox Christianity. I picked up a small book, Introduction to Eastern Orthodox Christianity, and from that moment, I was hooked—studying the history of Christianity and the origins of the religion of the Apostles.
It wasn’t until much later, long after I had entered the ancient Church, that I first heard names like Jay Dyer and others whose weekly online presence challenges an entire generation of Protestant Christians on the tenets of their faith. Over the last few years, I’ve noticed an influx of inquirers visiting our church, often mentioning YouTube and Twitter personalities who introduced them to Eastern Orthodoxy. Many want to experience it in person. On any given Sunday, we might have 20–30 visitors who have never set foot in an Orthodox church before but have recently begun investigating the ancient faith.
Of course, when I finally took the time to explore these online OrthoBros, I was a bit taken aback by their approach and use of social media. To say it was different from the discipleship I received as I entered the Church would be an understatement. Their style of debate, argumentation, and engagement with non-Orthodox was unlike anything I had ever experienced in real-life Orthodox churches, among clergy, or in the laity.
This was something entirely new to my experience of Orthodoxy. Anyone familiar with becoming Orthodox knows that one of the first things we learn is that the Holy Spirit is “everywhere present and filling all things.” It is not for us, as Orthodox laity, to condemn other Christian traditions. We are called to be peaceful, loving, gentle, and patient with those outside the Church—not to attempt to convert them intellectually, as we may do more harm than good in our own naivety.
Becoming Orthodox is a lifelong process. An Orthodox priest of 50 years once told me that even at 85 years old, he is still “becoming Orthodox.”
As a layperson and a church history teacher, I certainly discuss theology in private conversations, as most Christians do. However, I go out of my way not to teach theology publicly or speak authoritatively on it—I am not a priest, bishop, or theologian. The Orthodox Church has survived 2,000 years precisely because it has safeguarded itself against sola scriptura—that tendency in men to believe they can read Holy Scripture on their own and understand it better than the collective witness of the Saints throughout church history.
On the other hand, I am in no position to judge the online OrthoBros. It is not my place to condemn what they are doing. Who am I to make such a public judgment? I am not present when they sit with their spiritual father or confessor, and I do not know what the Holy Spirit is doing in their lives.
Another central tenet of Orthodox Christianity is spiritual healing—healing from sin. That is what brings so many of us ex-Protestants to the Church. It isn’t always because we had bad experiences with Western Evangelicalism—I certainly didn’t. In fact, I had a good experience. But we come into Orthodox Christianity because, for each of us individually, it is the next step in our spiritual sanctification, our theosis, our healing.
As I carved out my little niche on Twitter (now X) within the Orthodox echo chamber, I began witnessing daily wars between (alleged) Orthodox Christian men and women and the OrthoBros. Regrettably, I found myself listening to the voices attacking the OrthoBros—many of whom turned out to be nothing more than Orthodox LARPers. Some hadn’t been to an Orthodox church in years (or ever) and spent more time on OnlyFans than in confession. I wasted part of a year entertaining their attacks, and I’m embarrassed to admit it, as my time would have been much better spent praying for both the OrthoBros and their critics.
Does this mean I endorse the tactics of the OrthoBros? That question is irrelevant to my life. What does it matter if I agree or disagree? It’s not for me to have an opinion on what they do online—that’s between them, their priest, and God.
My church is a witness to the many people who have learned about Orthodoxy through the OrthoBros. You can take that however you like—I am not saying it’s good or bad. It’s simply true.
In my own theosis, in my own spiritual growth, I am learning to keep my eyes fixed on Christ—to be gentle and quiet, and to be more careful about whom I listen to and engage with, both online and in real life.
Those who know me understand that I am far more comfortable sitting across from someone in a café, sharing coffee and conversation, than engaging in an online argument or debate; it’s simply not my personality to be anything other than the way God created me. Ultimately, I’ve realized that my focus should be on spiritual growth, not on engaging in online battles. Rather than getting caught up in the noise, I find it much more rewarding to sit across from someone with a coffee in hand, focusing on meaningful conversation in real life. And may God bless the OrthoBro’s, perhaps I will one day receive the Eucharist alongside them.
A piece of context that may help people understand the orthobros is that they stem from the internet blood sport debate field. That arena is vicious and requires the interlocutors to have thick skin as well as quick wit. Those who could deliver philosophical or logical counters to their opponent in the most entertaining way typically amassed the bigger following. Now pair that with the truth of Orthodoxy and the audience started to see the chasm between it and the secular belief systems plaguing the west. It was a recipe that captured the hearts and minds of honest men seeking truth in the most generic way and introduced to them the royal path. Their character and delivery is the nature of the niche they emerged from and because of that I feel they are misunderstood a lot of the time.
While the Orthrobro is a bit odd I don't begrudge them. Certainly this may have been the sort who Jesus called the "Sons of Thunder" among the apostles.
"Jesus attempted to find accommodations for the night in one place but was met with opposition from the villagers, simply because His destination was Jerusalem—a result of Jew-Samaritan prejudice. “When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, ‘Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?’” (Luke 9:54). Jesus rebuked the brothers, and they all went to another village."
The line, "Do you want us to ask God to blow them up" sounds totally up the OrthoBro alley.