Social media is a plague.
Two days ago, I opened social media and one of the first videos in my feed was a horrific video of the murder of Charlie Kirk in front of thousands of students.
It was visceral. It was gory. It was horrific.
And it broke my heart. For Charlie, his family and the many students who had to witness it first-hand. It was a reprehensible act of violence that could only be called by what it is: evil.
Yet, my heart broke a little more when I saw the post of a father whose 12-year-old had also seen the same horrific video that I had. I am 33 years old, and while I refuse to believe I have become accustomed to seeing evil, I am not ignorant of the fact that it is so easily accessible through social media and the internet.
As a youth pastor who serves students from 12 through college, I tend to hurt when they hurt. Part of my calling is to understand their burdens and to walk beside them with comfort and wisdom, just as my own youth pastor once did for me. So, knowing that thousands of students sat in a front-row seat to murder — and knowing even younger kids had it dropped into their feeds without ever searching for it — crushes my heart.
For over a decade now, social media has been the progenitor of more hate that I can expand on. I’ve watched young children killed in wars fueled by power and greed. I’ve seen kids starved to skin and bone because of corruption and neglect. Death saturates the feed. Looking for racism, hate, injustice, war, famine or savagery? Social media serves it up daily.
It’s manipulative, divisive and free of any innocence. It sours friendships, butchers faith and puts visceral imagery in front of innocent eyes. It is eye opening and eye closing. It lacks empathy and couldn’t care less about the age or maturity of the person using it.
It carries evil in a golden chariot, with a false king masquerading as friend and savior, all while silently draining the life from them.
But does that mean that all social media is bad? That’s not an easy thing to answer. I believe a small candle can burn brightly in a dark room — but it’s still a dark room.
Look, I’ll be the first to admit there are good things I see online. I love recalling the MySpace days and the early Facebook years. I love seeing my pastor’s wife share videos of her singing Gospel music that uplifts my soul. I love watching friends share milestones in their families’ lives. I love seeing my students achieve their goals in life. And though it’s often painful, I appreciate the ability to be able to grieve alongside friends, even if it is with just a few words on a screen.
“Well, Gauge, I just don’t believe 12-year-olds should have social media.”
Maybe you’re right, and I would even go so far as to agree with you, but is that the point? Social media bleeds into every facet of our lives. Even if a child doesn’t have an account, those screenshots get passed around. They get reshared in their schools, in the locker rooms and yes, even in church.
We were kids once, too. We know those conversations.
“Bro, did you hear the news? It’s bad, but look at this.”
”Did you see that video of that guy getting murdered?”
“Did you see that video of those kids getting blown up by a rocket?”
“Did you see that video of that soldier having a drone bomb dropped on him?”
Did you see… Did you see…
It never ends.
And sooner or later, your “innocent, non-social media” child will end up seeing it second-hand.
You see, that’s the thing about evil. Evil is not in the game of patience. It’s not waiting for curious eyes to stumble across it. Evil hunts. What better game than those innocent eyes waiting to be shaped? It hunts them on every screen they touch, through nearly every platform they are witness to.
That same evil that seeks to desensitize us as adults seeks to shape the mind of those who come next. And social media stands as its most effective harbinger.
So, what then? Can we win against it? I’d be a liar if I didn’t say I sit right there with you, asking all the same questions.
But one truth I know is this: we cannot be passive against evil. We can’t just hope that “my child will never see those things.” That’s not enough. We must be the gatekeepers to their hearts and minds during their most transformative years.
This doesn’t mean you shelter them from the world, either. The world will come for them. But we can provide them with the wisdom and the guardrails of discernment to know what is good from evil. My guardrails come through my faith in Jesus Christ, which gives me discernment I would not otherwise have — and the responsibility to shepherd my own children in that discernment. But even if you disagree with my faith, invest in them in the discernment that guides them toward what is good and full of life.
Ask them the hard questions before the world gives them counterfeit answers. Teach and allow them to think critically. Set boundaries so they know where the lines are and when they are crossed. Say “no” with purpose and action.
And in the worst case, when your child comes home after having seen the horrors that they were never meant to view, be intentional with unloading that weight from their shoulders. Be present.
The best advice I can give you after many years of working with students is to sit with them and be a listening ear first. Allow them to grieve and grieve with them. Then, be a voice of comfort, truth and good in their lives.
To the students out there who are conflicted by what they saw or have seen, there will always be evil to be seen and viewed and cheered on. My heart breaks for all of you to live in a world that cheers for it, whether it be murder or war.
I know that many of you view social media as an absolute necessity and would be lost without it for a day. I’ve been there, too. But hear me — who you are and the worth that you are measured by has nothing to do with the likes, views and followers you have on social media. Those are empty numbers. Your life matters infinitely more than the evil that seeks to tell you there is no hope through a phone screen. Guard your heart from evil. You are worth it.
And to the rest of us — parents, churches, schools, communities — we can’t keep pretending like we don’t have a voice here. Social media will raise your children if you let it, and it will age them rapidly. The sour fruit it bears is one of conflict, despair and a loss of innocence that a child can never get back.
But we are not without hope. That little candle that flickers in a dark room is the antidote. It begins with us modeling a better way, one backed by truth and unity. Evil doesn’t have to have the last say if we choose to fight it. So, fight.
