Speech to the Devout

My brothers,
We live in a time that drowns young men in noise.

Every screen, every feed, every second, it’s shouting something at us—buy this, watch that, follow him, chase her.

It promises pleasure and purpose, but it delivers distraction, anxiety, and emptiness.

We’re surrounded by a culture that tells us to indulge our every whim, to chase comfort, and to reject sacrifice.

We are surrounded by filth that parades as freedom. Lust is sold as love. Pride is sold as confidence. Rebellion is sold as liberation.

Ten-year-olds can freely access pornography and no one speaks out because they are afraid of being ridiculed or rejected.

Brothers, where has this culture of death led us?
Look at the fruit: confusion, isolation, weakness.
Young men are numb, ashamed, distracted. And the world offers nothing but more noise.

We’re ridiculed for being masculine. We’re called outdated for seeking discipline. And worst of all, we’re told that tradition—our Catholic tradition—is oppressive, irrelevant, even dangerous.

But the truth has not changed. It never will.
We were not made for comfort. We were made for the Cross.

We are not called to be passive. We are not called to sit back and be swallowed by this culture.
We are called to rise. To fight. To take up our cross and walk the narrow road.

The devil’s tactic isn’t always to shock—sometimes it’s to numb.
The enemy doesn’t need to drag you into hell if he can keep you distracted, passive, and weak. When he can let you wander there yourself.

The souls of men are starving. We live in an age obsessed with the self. Everything is about my truth, my comfort, my image.

The world teaches young men to put themselves first—above duty, above family, above God.

But that kind of selfishness doesn’t lead to freedom—it leads to emptiness. It makes us forget who we’re meant to serve, who we’re meant to protect, and what we’re meant to sacrifice for.

True manhood begins when we stop living for ourselves and start living for something greater.
It begins in the silence of prayer, in the weight of daily responsibility, in choosing to say no to sin and yes to God.

That’s where strength is born—not in pride or pleasure, but in sacrifice.

Christus Dominus Est is not just a group—it’s a brotherhood. A defiance. A declaration that we will not bow to this world.
We will follow Christ.
We will pursue virtue.
We will reclaim what it means to be men.

Let them mock tradition. Let them mock discipline.
We will build our lives on truth.
And we will not be moved.

So I ask you:
Will you keep drifting with the current—or will you stand against it?
Will you settle for comfort—or will you choose the Cross?
Will you waste your strength—or will you become the man God is calling you to be?

Don’t wait. Move.
Live the life you were made for. Not for comfort, not for applause, but for Christ.
Because without Him, life is not worth living.

Ave Christus Rex!

Thank you.