"The Path of Happiness and the Flame of Hope" by Fr. Paulo Ricardo.

 You can reand or listen the original source (in Portuguese) here.

1 February 2026

Far from being a mere display of Jesus’ eloquence, the Beatitudes constitute a true itinerary that leads us to Heaven. This is because the complete happiness we constantly seek is found in nothing of this world, but solely in God.

 

Helen Thomas Robson - My Friend.

The Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ according to Saint Matthew (Mt 5:1–12a)

At that time, when Jesus saw the crowds, He went up the mountain and sat down. His disciples came to Him, and He began to teach them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you, and utter every kind of evil against you falsely on My account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in Heaven.”

 

This Sunday, the Church proclaims the Gospel of Saint Matthew, chapter 5, verses 1 to 12. This passage is the Sermon on the Mount—the first of the five great discourses narrated by Saint Matthew—in which Our Lord proclaims the Beatitudes that we shall live fully in Heaven.

It is striking to observe that Jesus’ very first word here is “blessed,” that is, “happy.” It seems that Christ begins with the end, for He opens by speaking of the ultimate goal of our lives—happiness—and shows that He Himself is the path that leads to it. We all desire to be happy, yet we tragically do not know the way to happiness. This drama belongs to the human condition. Cows, monkeys, and small animals do not suffer from the anguish of seeking fulfillment in life; they do not become anxious, worried, or desperate. With us, however, the situation is different: we are anguished because there is always the possibility that our life might simply not turn out well.

Here, Jesus immediately touches the wound, showing us that we seek happiness where it cannot be found. Because He desires our happiness, Christ shows us the way. The hard truth is that we can indeed fail in this life, and this is precisely the evil Jesus wishes to heal. Happiness exists in Heaven, with God; yet we do not know how to reach it. Our Lord not only wants us to be happy, but also tells us what we must do in order to attain happiness. This is the very heart of the Gospel of the Beatitudes.

In short, we will not find perfect happiness in this world. Every form of happiness presented by Jesus is a reward of Heaven. And to reach it, we must do one thing: imitate Our Lord. With the help of grace, we must form our hearts according to the Heart of Jesus, for the Beatitudes are nothing other than a reflection of the very Person of Christ. As He Himself said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me” (Jn 14:6).

The Gospel presents us with eight Beatitudes, divided into two parts: in the first, Jesus tells us what we must do; in the second, He reveals the reward awaiting us in Heaven. It is important to emphasize that everything Jesus promises belongs to Heaven. Indeed, He begins by saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” He goes on to speak of comfort for those who mourn, inheritance for the meek, satisfaction for the hungry and thirsty, mercy, and finally divine filiation. All of this stands in stark contrast to this valley of tears in which we live—the fallen world.

In the Beatitudes, Jesus speaks to us of Heaven, where we shall be called “children of God.” Saint John writes: “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed” (1 Jn 3:2). This is the hope of Heaven. Finally, Jesus speaks of those who are persecuted for love of Him: “Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you, and utter every kind of evil against you falsely on My account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in Heaven” (Mt 5:11–12). Everything points toward Paradise.

Christ wishes to free us from the foolish notions of happiness we cultivate in this world. He says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” Jesus Himself was the first and greatest of the poor in spirit, for He humbled Himself completely on the Cross, shattering by His example our attachments to worldly things. It is noteworthy that He says “blessed are the poor,” even though common sense often claims the opposite. Our country is economically unstable; we are constantly facing crises. As a result, it is common for us to chase after money and financial security. It almost seems as though happiness will only arrive once our name disappears from the list of debtors or when we finally purchase the latest smartphone. Yet one does not even need faith to recognize the illusion behind this attachment to money—a truth already acknowledged by ancient philosophers.

Once, I met an elderly man who had lived a dignified and honest life, working for decades to provide the best for his family. At the end of his life, however, he realized that all the money he had accumulated could not buy his health back. Material goods do not bring happiness. But must one really live to be eighty to discover a truth that could already be understood at twenty? It makes no sense to distress ourselves over things that will pass away. Christ invites us to imitate Him in poverty, for it is in this way that we shall be happy.

Does this mean, then, that we will experience no happiness at all in this life? Certainly not. The Beatitudes themselves make this clear. When we hear about true happiness in Heaven and what we must do to attain it, hope is born in our hearts—and hope itself is already the beginning of happiness. When someone who is gravely ill is told that there exists a medicine capable of saving his life, simply hearing this good news already brings joy. The illness remains, but the face is illuminated by hope. Such is the logic of the Beatitudes proclaimed by Jesus. We shall live them fully only in Heaven, but even now we possess the joy of hope, because we believe in the Word of God.

We must obey the Lord, following the path to happiness that He has shown us. To help us, we have the grace of God. We are like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, walking in the company of Jesus: “Were not our hearts burning within us while He spoke to us on the way?” (Lk 24:32). They had not yet seen the risen Christ, yet their hearts were already aflame. Such is the condition of Christians.

Let us look to the lives of the saints. They are rightly called “blessed,” for they are in Heaven, though they lived troubled lives on earth. Indeed, if we wish to understand suffering, we need only look at the saints. Yet even amid suffering, they nourished the flame of hope in their hearts, and this was already a source of great joy—even in this world. We are called to suffer not as the despairing, but with the flame of hope burning within our souls.

So far, we have seen our goal—Heaven. But how do we reach it? The path that leads to Paradise begins with poverty of spirit, that is, the wise resolve never to place our hope in earthly goods: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”

Second: “Blessed are those who mourn.” Our society flees from any form of suffering or affliction and believes that happiness lies in sensual pleasure. For many, happiness is found in sex, food, comfort, and the like. This is a grave illusion. Jesus is clear: happiness does not lie in what appeals to disordered desire.

The third Beatitude of Our Lord is: “Blessed are the meek.” How many wars, conflicts, and disputes would be avoided if we simply followed this exhortation of the Lord.

According to Saint Thomas Aquinas, these Beatitudes are proper to beginners—those taking their first steps on the path of purification. Even at this early stage, we already begin to lose much of our attachment to the things of this world.

Therefore, let us take courage! Our Lord begins the Sermon on the Mount with the end, showing us that true happiness does exist. Hearts lifted high, then! How many priests and members of the Church live discouraged lives! How many people surrender to a worldly outlook because they no longer see a solution to the problems afflicting the Church! Sadly, in the face of worldly pressures, many prefer to capitulate, wishing the Church to adapt itself to the spirit of the age. Yet here Christ feeds us with hope. He shows us the path of grace, by which—if we break with worldly illusions—we shall receive our reward in Heaven.

Let us, then, have true hope. Yes, we live the drama of the human condition, but authentic happiness does exist. A light has shone upon a people who walked in darkness. Our true happiness is in Heaven. To reach it, let us ask for the grace to imitate Christ in the Beatitudes, thus breaking free from the illusions of this world. In this way, we may one day attain the eternal reward. Therefore, let us listen to Our Lord, who says: “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in Heaven” (Mt 5:12a).

Venerable Nicola D’Onofrio

 You can read the original source here.

 

 This young religious faced death “calm and confident”

Larry Peterson - Jul 02, 2019

21 years old, he had followed his life dream in the Order of St. Camillus, and received papal dispensation to take his vows before cancer took his life.

Nicola D’Onofrio was born in Villamagna, Italy, on March 24,1943. His father, Giovanni, and his mom, Virginia, had their son baptized three days later in the parish church of St. Mary’s. Nicola’s dad was a successful farmer, but more importantly, he was a man of integrity, honesty, and wisdom, virtues fueled by a deep and abiding Catholic faith. His mom was known for her piety and kindness. Their faith and character traits would be passed on to their son.

As Nicola began to grow, the distinct qualities of kindness and peacefulness seemed to be part of who he was. He made his First Holy Communion on the feast of Corpus Christi in June of 1950. Three years later, in October of 1953, he received his Confirmation. His teachers and even his classmates invariably spoke or wrote of Nicola’s hard work ethic, his kindness, and his availability to anyone who needed help. No matter the season, he never missed serving at Mass in the morning even though it was a two-mile walk to the church. 

When Nicola was about 10 years old, a priest who belonged to the Order of St. Camillus invited him to consider entering the Camillian students in Rome. Nicola immediately accepted the offer, but his parents felt he was not ready. As well, his father wanted him to stay at home and take over the family farm when he grew up. His two unmarried aunts tried to convince him that he was their only heir. However, Nicola, even at his young age, wanted desperately to become a priest.

During the following year, Nicola prayed and studied hard, and by the end of the year, his family gave him permission to enter the Camillian school. The school was for pre-teens to see if they truly displayed signs of having a priestly vocation. The date he entered the school was October 3, 1955. He was 12 years old, and it was the feast day of St. Therese of the Child Jesus. The Little Flower would later become his spiritual guide.

During the next six years, Nicola’s character continually manifested a person who was humble, friendly, helpful, and above all, always smiling. He was constantly ready to help others, offer words of comfort or understanding, and simply be there when and if needed.

Interestingly, Nicola learned after several years at school that his father had wanted to bring him back home. Nicola wrote him saying he was determined to become a priest in the Camillian Order no matter the cost. His dad humbly relented.

Nicola worked hard and applied himself to his studies, gaining the respect and admiration of his teachers. He wanted to be a worthy priest, and his work ethic evidenced that. On October 7, 1961, after a period of intense training, Nicola took the vows of Poverty, Chastity, Obedience, and Charity toward the sick, especially those with contagious diseases. These vows were binding for three years. At the end of that period, he would take his final vows as a professed Camillian religious. 

It was toward the end of 1962 that the first symptoms of the cancer that would kill him reared their ugly head. He did not understand the pain he was having, nor why he felt weak. Testing ensued, and following the advice of his superiors and the doctors, he was operated on at the urology department at St. Camillo Hospital in Rome. The diagnosis came back as positive for tera-tosarcoma, better known as genital cancer, and it had already begun to metastasize. The date was July 30, 1963.

The pain and suffering increased dramatically over the next year. Weakened and in constant pain, young Nicola never stopped praying  and smiling. His rosary was his constant companion. He had one desire: he wanted desperately to be able to take his final vows. 

A request was sent to Pope Paul VI, who granted Nicola a special dispensation allowing him to make his vows.

A request was sent to Pope Paul VI, who granted Nicola a special dispensation allowing him to make his vows. On May 28, 1964, Nicola D’Onofrio consecrated himself to God for life. It was his final act of love. On June 5, the feast of the Sacred Heart, Nicola, fully conscious and completely aware that he was dying, smilingly received the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick. 

Nicola passed away on June 12, 1964. He was 21 years old, and he was surrounded by his family and Camillian brothers. A close family friend who had assisted Nicola throughout his illness remembered his last moments and said, “He seemed to me like Jesus Christ on the Cross, so calm and confident, with prayers on his lips, calling Our Lady ‘Mom.'”

Pope Francis declared Nicola D’Onofrio a man of ‘heroic virtue’ and worthy of the title Venerable on July 5, 2013. 

Venerable Nicola D’Onofrio, please pray for us.

 

"Why You Should Watch 'Daredevil'" by Samuel Morales.

You can read the original source here.

Regardless of how the Disney version of this show ends up, the Netflix/Marvel collaboration remains one of the finest superhero adaptations out there

Samuel Morales - Mar 03, 2025

 

 

Daredevil and Catholic Guilt – Religion in Popular Culture Lab

As a general rule, any show produced by Netflix and is said to have “Catholic themes” should rightly be viewed with suspicion.

However, Marvel’s “Daredevil” (no, not the 2003 movie with Ben Affleck) is actually a deeply respectful and reverent superhero show that wears its canonically Catholic superhero protagonist as a badge of honor. There is just A LOT of violence.

Developed by writer Drew Goddard, whose intentionally violent Cabin in the Woods was a not-so-subtle knock at the excess of the “slasher” genre, the show is only tangentially a part of the larger MCU: while there are some throwaway references here and there, the story is primarily standalone. (The new show on Disney+ will aim to “retcon” the story as always having been in the MCU).

At the heart of the show is Matt Murdock (played by Charlie Cox, who portrayed St. Josemaría Escrivá in 2011’s There Be Dragons), AKA Daredevil. Murdock is an Irish-Catholic, and although throughout the show he is not a “practicing” Catholic (there are no scenes of him attending Mass that I recall) he does regularly keep up confession, especially as his vigilante antics cause him to question the state of his soul. His regular confessor is Father Paul Lantom (Peter McRobbie), who appears throughout all three seasons and is one of the best characters in the entire series. He is a father figure to the bedevilled Murdock, and not once is the character made to do anything irreverent or act like anything but a benign, charming old Irish priest.

Matt’s primary “superpowers” lie in his heightened senses after an accident stole his vision as a kid. Despite his lack of sight, he is still able to navigate and use his advanced hearing and smell to great effect both as a crime-fighting vigilante and as a full-time lawyer. But to the world, he is just another blind man: no one would suspect how truly attuned to his surroundings he really is.

Murdock’s primary nemesis is Wilson Fisk (Vincent D’Onofrio) AKA Kingpin. There have been many incarnations of this character (most recently in Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse) but D’Onofrio’s performance is not only one of his all time best, but is up there with Heath Ledger as one of the great supervillain performances. Fisk, a product of a violent childhood- similar to Murdock’s- truly wants to make a difference in New York and wants to give everything to his beloved, Vanessa. The only problem is he will do absolutely everything necessary to achieve his goals.

Also surrounding Murdock throughout the show are a complex and diverse array of classic Marvel characters such as The Punisher (Jon Bernthal), Elektra (Elodie Yung), and Bullseye (Wilson Bethel) who all only serve as mirrors for our hero to reflect upon what kind of vigilante he is going to fully end up becoming. Matt’s heroic life is balanced out by his “normal” life of being a lawyer, although his legal life only becomes increasingly intertwined with his undercover life the further along the show gets. By his side in the office (and as his friends) are his partner “Foggy” Nelson (Elden Henson) and Karen Page (Deborah Woll), whom Matt increasingly struggles to keep his persona from as they uncover more and more of what’s really going on in their city.

Aside from Father Lantom’s appearances, the show, much like Frank Miller’s run on the character in the comics (a major influence on this show), is laced with Catholic imagery and features characters with strong moral codes. However, viewers should be warned that there is a lot of excessive violence, particularly in the first season. Aside from prior R-rated outings like Blade and The Punisher, this was the first “TV-MA” show for a Marvel character, and it’s clear the showrunners were keen to differentiate this show from the PG-13 MCU fare that was playing in theaters. However, the character of Matt does have a code against killing, and any excessive violence is usually caused by the villains to further show how badly Murdock needs to stand up against them. While a few scenes pop up here and there, sex and nudity are fairly minimal throughout especially when compared to, say, an HBO show.

All in all, Daredevil is a well-written, thought-provoking superhero saga that makes the bold choice to include the Faith both prominently and, more shockingly, in a good light. Heroes (and anti-heroes) strive to help others and wrestle with their conscience throughout, providing interesting moral dilemmas that leave them changed and (usually) for the better. Season 1 is really strong, Season 2 begins with a bang but peters off a bit when it begins to carry the weight of all the spin-offs, but then Season 3 brings it all home for a satisfying conclusion. It is uncertain how much of the vision from this iteration will carry over to the new series, but it is a good sign that much of the former cast came over, especially Cox and D’Onofrio.

Check out all three seasons of Daredevil on Disney+, and Daredevil: Born Again premieres with two episodes tomorrow on the same service at 9:00 PM EST.

"From musical prodigy to servant of the poor: Newly recognized Venerable Santiago" by Larry Peterson.

 You can read the original source here.

From musical prodigy to servant of the poor: Newly recognized Venerable Santiago

Larry Peterson - published on 02/05/21

 

From the Paris music scene, he found the nascent Society of Vincent de Paul.

Santiago Masarnau y Fernandez was born in Madrid on December 10, 1805. His father, also named Santiago, was a native of Cantabria in northern Spain. His mom, Beatriz Fernandez, was from a family closely tied to the Spanish aristocracy. She passed on in 1808, leaving her 3-year-old son without a mom. Shortly after, Masarnau senior was named Secretary of the Royal Association of Nobility of Cordoba. His new position required him and his three children to move to Andalusia (the southern part of the Spanish peninsula).

 

The boy was a musical prodigy

Masarnau proved to be a musical prodigy when only a young boy. It was not long before he began studying music under the organist of the Cathedral of Granada. King Ferdinand VII had been deposed from the throne in 1808, but in 1814 he managed to regain power. Masarnau’s dad was appointed to a position and the family moved back to Madrid.

Once back near Madrid, Masarnau became part of the Escorial musical world (the Royal Palace outside Madrid). He was so good at playing the organ he was allowed to perform before King Ferdinand, even playing some of his own compositions. The boy was only 10 years old. But sometime during the early 1820s, Masarnau’s dad was forced to resign his privileges as a Gentleman of the Royal Household.

Masarnau had planned to study to be an engineer. But after his father was dismissed from the King’s court, he changed his mind and headed to Paris to study music. For the next 20 years, Masarnau divided his time among the cities of Paris, London, and Madrid. He developed a close friendship with the Spanish composer Jose Melchior Gomis.

Gomis composed the Himno de Riego, still used as the anthem by various governments in Spain. Gomis was also a Spanish rebel living in exile because he had sided with those who wished to depose King Ferdinand. Masarnau was sympathetic to those opposing the King and spent much of his time in London, where Gomis introduced him to the London music world.

 

He had a religious awakening

In 1838, Masarnau had a religious awakening that would transform his life. He came into contact with the Society of St. Vincent de Paul at a parish in Paris. The Society had been founded in Paris in 1833 by Frederick Ozanam, a 20-year-old student who had been confronted by other students to “practice what you preach.” Frederick immediately went outside and gave away his coat to a homeless man, and that was the beginning of the St. Vincent de Paul Society. By 1838 the Society had grown, and when Masarnau discovered it, he decided that from then on, he would devote his life to the poor.

The rules that were in place for the Society impressed Masarnau. They were quite simple; “no politics or personal concerns would be discussed; the work of the Society should be in the service of God in the persons of the poor; there would be no distinction of creed, race, or of the poor, the infirm, and/or the unemployed. “

Masarnau became active in the Society and soon became the treasurer of his St. Vincent de Paul Conference. He would remain in France for almost five years, helping the needy. He refrained from composing any more salon music and directed his composing to sacred music. He returned to Spain in 1843.

 

He never lost sight of primarily serving the poor

Once back home, Masarnau remained active in the music business, teaching, composing, and writing articles for music publications. But he never lost sight of his primary focus: serving the poor through the St. Vincent de Paul Society. However, there was a challenge: the Society was unknown in Spain, and people were skeptical of a “foreign” organization and its “secular” nature.

But Masarnau refused to give up. His dedication to the needy and his devotion to his ministry paid off. In 1850 the Society in Spain, with the support of Pope Gregory XVI, was established. Santiago Masarnau y Fernandez was recognized as its founder. Coincidentally, this was the same year the St. Vincent de Paul Society began operations in the United States.

Politics reared its ugly head, and in 1868 the Spanish government forcibly dissolved the Society, seizing all its property. However, six years later, the Society in Spain was allowed to resume its work with the poor and marginalized. Masarnau returned as its leader. He passed away in 1882 at the age of 77.

On January 21, 2021, Pope Francis approved the decree that recognized Masarnau a man of “heroic virtue.” He is now recognized as Venerable Santiago Masarnau y Fernandez, and his cause for beatification will move forward.

Venerable Santiago, please pray for us.

"Why Your Catholic Men’s Group Will Eventually Fold" by Rob Marco

 You can read the original source here.

Many of the men who are in most need of Catholic male fellowship are in the worst position to make it happen: mid-career, young and growing family, demands on time to balance everything...anything that isn’t work or family gets pushed to the back burner.

  

When my wife and I first got married, we didn’t have many friends who were practicing Catholics. I had to fish for a college friend to be the godfather of our firstborn, and I attended a Protestant Bible study for six years because I couldn’t find a Catholic one. We felt alone as we slowly turned the boat toward the shores of Catholic orthodoxy.

So, I prayed. I prayed the prayer of St. Francis: “Lord, send me some brothers.” And, eventually, one by one, He did. A priest in our area was organizing a winter hike in single-digit temperatures and I got plugged in with some good, solid Catholic guys. I was very grateful for these guys; it seemed like the community, the band of brothers, I had been looking for.

I want to be clear about something here: none of what I’m about to write is reflective of these guys in particular. From other male Catholic friends I’ve talked to in other areas of the country, I’ve heard that they seem to deal with the same issues and challenges that I do here in my area. So, I think the issue is one of the idea of a Catholic men’s group in general, not a particular group specifically.

Anyone who has done a group project knows that some people are naturally “take charge” while others remain more passive and allow other people to lead. Men’s groups are no exception. In one sense, a group really needs that one guy (or two, or three) who can play the project-manager role and bring guys together, put the work in to build some structure and accountability, and keep men engaged.

The downside to this is twofold: firstly, the functioning of the group can become dependent on that one man without a sustainable system in place if and when he leaves, moves, or steps down. Secondly, the guy stepping into that role (usually because no one else wants to) can become resentful of the time and work he is putting in to make things happen, and he can become burned out in the process.

To overcome these obstacles, you could do the “President,” “Vice President,” “Secretary,” “Treasurer” thing, but then it becomes much less organic and more like a second job, something you have to do. Or you could just keep it unstructured and decentralized, with no one really leading the group. But men being men, it becomes easy to just not do or suggest anything then. Everyone becomes passive, or, at the very best, they rely on an organic approach in which things happen as they happen.

In my experience, guys do not just get together to talk in the same way women do. Men use one-third the number of words women do in a day, and their time spent together (for better or worse) needs to be structured around some kind of activity for it to work. This, too, is another kind of no-win trap. If there is a lack of activity or something to do or accomplish, men will not naturally spend time together for long. But the logistics of planning “things to do” often necessitates a point-guy to take charge and make it happen for the group. (See the previous section regarding the reticence of guys to step into this role.)

If there is no common vision—something to work toward or be challenged by, or some string that holds the group together—it becomes “guys hanging out.” That kind of group is easy to walk away from because it doesn’t require anything—no work, no accountability, no undertaking of any kind. Just show up and do whatever. But when you start actually requiring things of men, you run into the third problem, which is….

Many of the men who are in most need of Catholic male fellowship are in the worst position to make it happen: mid-career, young and growing family, demands on time to balance everything…anything that isn’t work or family gets pushed to the back burner. Which is largely understandable—and also a reason why many men’s groups peter out or become inactive. It isn’t a top priority, despite the lip service that is given to the need for strong men in the Church today. When the going gets tough, the tough get…busy.

Another issue I’ve seen that goes back to the problem of needing to “do” or “accomplish” something as men is that when that “task” is complete, there’s no real reason to stay connected with one another. I’ve done Exodus 90 twice, and while it is good at challenging men (cold showers, fasting, prayer, etc.), I hardly have any contact anymore with the men I’ve gone through the program with. Sure, it appeals to male sensibilities for a challenge, to be pushed, and to structure fellowship around a “thing” to focus on (i.e., the 90-day program), which is why it is a relatively successful Catholic program for men. But what then, on Day 91 and beyond? This is the challenge for any kind of program-based regimen to build male fellowship—when the program ends, so does the fellowship, largely.

Parish-based men’s programs suffer from the usual problem: since you are drawing from a limited scope of men based on parochial parameters, it skews older and tends to feel forced, inorganic, and unsustainable. Organizations like the Knights of Columbus do good work. They are good men. But, as a friend described them, they are largely “a civic group, and manpower for the parish.” They skew older as well, the uniforms are goofy (in my opinion), and the insurance thing is annoying. Not my thing. But that doesn’t mean a lot of men don’t gain benefit from it; just not many from my demographic. Maybe in another ten years or so I’ll get my second degree. Maybe.

“Virtual” groups have their own issues. I had to do a Zoom event for work recently; the night before, we had an in-person event. The energy was totally different. At the in-person event, there was an energy and buzz; the Zoom event was largely flat and tired. Zoom fatigue is real, especially when you use it for work. Sure, you don’t have the geographic constraints, but there is a lot lacking when you are not physically present with other men.

Virtual life is not real life. I’m going to say it again so the people in the back can hear: virtual life is not real life. The more one lives online, debating with internet strangers or going down reddit rabbit holes, the more underformed one’s character seems to be. For many men who live in more isolated areas, it’s a temptation for sure, due to being the “next best thing” to real life and in-person interaction. I get it. But I still believe social media and the like are a harmful experiment that we will wake up to years from now with massive societal damage to reckon for.

One of the things I was looking for most in a men’s group was the least easily found, and that was accountability. Despite the solidness of the guys in my local group, and our years of knowing each other, there are virtually none whom I feel I could rely on for spiritual accountability, nor guys who would trust me with that aspect of their lives. Maybe that’s just the way it is with men—we hide things easily and withdraw into ourselves, whether because of shame or how we are trained to be islands of one.

It’s inevitable that some guys will come and go, move, or have schedule changes that preclude them from staying involved in one group for years on end. To the extent that you are not bringing new guys in, you are failing to grow and may not be in a situation in which you can sustain the group over the years. It also becomes tempting to be comfortable and cliquey when you just keep it to a little club.

Every time I see a Catholic guy in a tweed jacket or bowtie smoking a pipe or drinking whiskey while waxing about Chesterton or Belloc, I groan a little. Same for the Man Up type marketing for diocesan men’s conferences—the soldier/military imagery, the baseball Hall of Fame speakers. I mean, they’re stuck between a rock and a hard place here, so I feel for the planners of these events.

The fact is, though, a lot of men—like myself—don’t fit into these boxes, and it doesn’t make us less of a man. They are shallow, easy stereotypes, so you don’t have to think too much about what actually makes one a Catholic man.

The thing I struggle with as a Catholic man is that cognitive dissonance that comes with being told that “men need other men; iron sharpens iron!” while simultaneously seeing guys who don’t really believe that. It becomes Catholic, Inc. marketing for things like Into the Breach and Battle Ready (TM). For most guys, I would wager, they actually feel that work and family is all a man should really need. And they act accordingly. Why should I pour into my local group, after a number of years doing so, when I can just be like most men I know who are content with working and being with their family?

Most Catholic men’s groups and diocesan initiatives recognize the need for strong men in the Church, but they are impotent to exact the change on a sustainable, year-after-year level, in real fellowship. Maybe that’s just the way things are, the nature of manhood, and to expect otherwise is…well, misguided expectations. Or maybe it’s a Catholic problem, since “fellowship” is often seen as a thing for Protestants. We have the Mass and sacraments—why do we need each other? Maybe we don’t. Maybe it’s true—work, family, and our local parish community should be enough.

I think what it comes down to is this: to the degree that men are not growing in virtue, or loving each other sincerely in fraternal charity, you may be better off not wasting your time.

I think the sad fact is, for many of us men, we are largely on our own. Sometimes we might actually want more but don’t know how to go about forming it. Or maybe it’s just me. If we can find one or two solid men to rely on in our times of need, and be that man to them as well, that’s a plus. But largely, I wouldn’t count on a Catholic men’s group holding up for more than a few years. If it does, consider yourself blessed.