Dave is back from northern Michigan, and reality is terrible. The family cabin—built by a relative generations ago—delivered everything Tulsa could not: low-80s afternoons, cool nights, fires, golf, and a lake smooth enough for water skiing.
Dave’s three oldest girls all learned to ski, which meant it was time for their seasoned-skier father to show them how it’s done. The only problem was the pontoon boat. It had enough power to pull the kids, but not quite enough to launch a grown man from a shallow-water slalom start. After several attempts and several falls in front of his daughters, Dave accepted the indignity of starting on two skis and kicking one off. His father’s old rule—“In this family, we don’t fall”—was not enforced.
The pour is Celestial Hazy IPA from Chainsaw Brewing, an overtly Catholic brewery in Richland, Washington. Adam has the Dominions can; Dave has the Thrones. Same beer, different celestial artwork, 6.5% ABV, and Revelation-level labels covered in angels, eyes, and hops. If you want a good IPA from a Catholic brewer, support Chainsaw Brewing and help them #BeerEvangelize.
Sponsor: Select International Tours
When Adam and Dave decided to lead their first pilgrimage, the same recommendation kept coming back: Select International Tours. Having traveled with them, the guys can attest that they’re excellent. Whether you want to lead a pilgrimage or join one, visit selectinternationaltours.com and see where they can take you.
Sponsor: The Amen app
Sunday morning is not exactly easy like Sunday morning when you’re trying to load a Catholic family into the van and beat Father down the aisle. The free Amen app helps the guys prepare their children for Mass by listening to the Sunday Gospel on the drive. It also includes Catholic classics like Divine Mercy in My Soul and True Devotion to Mary. No paywall, subscription, or upfront cost. Download the Amen app and help get it from 950,000 downloads to one million.
The prayer request is Mary. She recently had surgery to place a G-tube, which should make feeding more comfortable and eliminate the constant gagging caused by the tube in her mouth. The immediate goals are to stabilize her, wean her from oxygen, and help her continue gaining weight so heart surgery can be considered in the coming months. A recent video caught her wide awake, smiling, and full of joy in the middle of a life that has involved more struggle than most. Keep Mary, Lady Haylee, and the whole family in your prayers.
The Catholic Man Show Campout is also approaching. Registration should open near the end of August, with the campout taking place during the final weekend of September at Clear Creek Abbey. Brandon Sheard will return for a hands-on animal-butchering class, with foraging and woodworking also planned. Those experiences are valuable, but the heart of the weekend is the opportunity to pray with the Benedictine monks and step into the ordered rhythm of monastic life.
Then the guys turn to the theological virtue of hope—the virtue a man in heaven no longer needs and a man in hell can no longer possess. Hope belongs to the man in the middle, the wayfarer who has not yet arrived. That means every one of us.
Drawing from St. Thomas Aquinas, they explain the four marks of hope’s object: it must be good, future, arduous, and possible. Theological hope is not the same as hoping for good weather or a Cowboys Super Bowl. Natural hope rests on circumstances, probabilities, and human ability. Supernatural hope rests on God’s goodness, providence, and promises. Its ultimate object is not a better job, a healed body, or a trouble-free life. Its object is God Himself.
That is why hope is “cashed in” when a soul reaches heaven. The good is no longer future; it is possessed. Souls in purgatory still have hope because the happiness they await remains future, arduous, and possible—even though their final destination is certain.
Josef Pieper helps identify the two ways a man can abandon the road before reaching its end: despair and presumption. Despair decides the promise will not be fulfilled. Presumption decides the reward is already guaranteed without repentance, conversion, or cooperation with grace. Both seize the verdict before the journey is finished.
Presumption is not too much trust in God. It is too little. It imagines a God too small to care about justice, transformation, and whether we become the men He created us to be. Despair makes a similar mistake by deciding that God’s mercy may exist in general but cannot reach this sin, this failure, or this man.
The deeper question is whether we actually trust God. Will He make us happy, or will surrendering to Him leave us regretting what we gave up? We repeatedly hang the weight of our hope on hooks that cannot bear it: a spouse, career, reputation, new client, new car, food, drink, or entertainment. Those things may be good, but none can carry the full weight of the human heart. Only Christ can do that.
St. Francis de Sales brings the discussion into moments of panic, temptation, self-loathing, and spiritual dryness. Devotion is not a feeling of sweetness or consolation. It is a firm and active will to do what pleases God. When anxiety hits, do not make major decisions from agitation. A trapped bird only tightens the net by thrashing. Let the water settle, then move.
Self-contempt is not humility either. Anger at yourself can be another form of pride because it still assumes you should have been able to save yourself. The better response to sin is quiet displeasure followed by courageous amendment: “Poor heart, rise up again bravely.” Hope allows a man to admit that he is nothing on his own while remembering the immense dignity God gave him through baptism.
Spiritual dryness can also teach. If prayer tastes like nothing, examine what you have been eating. Screens, alcohol, entertainment, comfort, and constant stimulation can train the appetite to find spiritual goods tasteless. Keep praying without demanding an immediate emotional reward. Sometimes hope looks like doing the next faithful thing while feeling nothing at all.
Dave shares a moment from adoration when he admitted that he was afraid God would ask him to leave a successful career and live in poverty through full-time ministry. His yes was reluctant, but it was still a yes. The answer he sensed was simple: “I just wanted your yes.” Years later, professional success has brought the same temptation back in a different form—the temptation to believe he can provide for himself and no longer needs to depend on God. Surrender is not something a man completes once. God keeps saying: do it again.
The practical path is equally simple. Offer the trial already in front of you. Pray for an increase in hope. Pray the Rosary even when you do not feel like it. Make an act of gratitude when despair begins closing in. And stop demanding that this life provide what only the next life can give.
We are on the Lord’s team—the winning side. Raise your glass.