Most men feel it before they can name it. That slow, quiet sense that life is just happening to you. Work has become a treadmill, marriage a parallel operation, faith something rote and obligatory. John Heinen and Devin Schadt go deep on what's actually behind male drift and why the standard diagnosis misses the real problem entirely.
They trace how the invention of adolescence quietly dismantled the rite of passage from boyhood to manhood, why 59% of men between 24 and 29 don't actually feel like adults, and how men have been inheriting that deficit ever since.
Today we unpack the distinction between vocation and occupation and why a man who has traded the first for the second will always feel like something is missing, no matter how much he achieves. We discuss Aquinas on the order of charity, what it means to have solid convictions versus just ambition, why hope requires something genuinely difficult to be real, and what St. Ambrose meant when he said the man rightly called a king is the one who makes his own body an obedient subject.
It is no exaggeration to say that it comes down to one thing: your morning routine.
As a house is built upon a solid foundation, the days of your life are erected upon your daily morning routine.
Conversely, if your house has a foundation wall that is bowing or buckling, it will eventually settle and perhaps collapse.
As a car rides on four tires, your days will ride on your mornings.
Again, if just one of your car’s four tires is flat, your vehicle will not drive.
Therefore, if you do not have a solid, consistent, life-giving morning routine, like that car, your life will go nowhere.
Your mornings determine your days, and your days determine your months, and your months determine your years, and your years determine your legacy.
Conversely, your grand vision of your life depends on the smallest of factors—how you begin your day, everyday.
This stat should shake every Catholic father awake: 85 to 90 percent of kids raised in Catholic homes will leave the faith by adulthood. We've somehow accepted that as normal. It's not. In this episode, I sit down with Dr. Greg Popcak, a Catholic counselor with over 30 years in the trenches and author of more than 20 books, to talk about what the families who beat those odds are actually doing differently.
Greg walks me through the 12 research-validated habits that families who successfully pass on the faith all share in common, what he calls the Liturgy of Domestic Church Life. We get into why just dragging your kids to Mass and white-knuckling the family Rosary isn't enough if there's no joy behind it, why your kids need to experience the Faith as the source of the meaning in your home and not just the source of the rules. He breaks down what headship actually looks like when it's modeled after the ministerial priesthood rather than a dictator, and he tells a story from his time in Hong Kong about a father who tried to hug his daughter for the first time and she didn't even know what he was doing.
Great men aren’t born, they are made great through the crucible of life. It is a mystery left only to God’s providence that you would be reading this article in a particular place, and particular time, much of which has little to do with your choosing. You and I were born into a place, a people, and a time with all its particular benefits and challenges. We don’t choose when or where we come into the world, but each of us will be judged by how well we live in it. We are judged by how well we develop our gifts and talents in service to God and one another. This, of course, is hard work. It requires both self-knowledge and self-possession, the two pillars of maturity upon which the foundation of our holiness is built.
Great men aren’t born, they are made great through the crucible of life. It is a mystery left only to God’s providence that you would be reading this article in a particular place, and particular time, much of which has little to do with your choosing. You and I were born into a place, a people, and a time with all its particular benefits and challenges. We don’t choose when or where we come into the world, but each of us will be judged by how well we live in it. We are judged by how well we develop our gifts and talents in service to God and one another. This, of course, is hard work. It requires both self-knowledge and self-possession, the two pillars of maturity upon which the foundation of our holiness is built.
What did Jesus mean, “My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?”
Could our Lord, by means of this haunting cry, be admitting defeat?
Furthermore, Our Lord appears to be saying that He believes that God His Father has left Him.
However, Jesus, to be a perfect sacrificial offering to God, was intent on identifying Himself as sin, though He had sinned not.
Our Lord willed to embrace the experience of abandonment that the sinner experiences when separated from God.
Indeed, Jesus deemed it necessary to endure the abandonment caused by sin for the purpose of fully redeeming all sinners.
John Hienen, owner of The Catholic Gentleman, said that often men treat Lent as though it is “extra credit,” as though we are being kind to God by offering Him a little extra. How nice. Lent is not an add-on feature, a bonus segment on a liturgical app, an extra rep, or an extra lap around the track.Lent is essential.You will only have so many Lents—perhaps seventy or eighty for those who are granted a longer life. “Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.” (Psalm 90:10)Indeed, how many of these Lents have we embraced to the fullest?
John Hienen, owner of The Catholic Gentleman, said that often men treat Lent as though it is “extra credit,” as though we are being kind to God by offering Him a little extra. How nice. Lent is not an add-on feature, a bonus segment on a liturgical app, an extra rep, or an extra lap around the track.Lent is essential.You will only have so many Lents—perhaps seventy or eighty for those who are granted a longer life. “Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.” (Psalm 90:10)Indeed, how many of these Lents have we embraced to the fullest?