America is lacking in real men. I’m referring to men who are willing to die to themselves completely and serve. That is what a real man is. Not some clueless guy watching television, drinking a beer, and eating pork rinds. That’s Hollywood’s portrayal.
A man cannot be a man unless he knows how to serve. What do I mean by that? If one is to lead his wife and children properly, such a man first and foremost must kneel before God. Our will must bend completely! When that happens, we will learn by and through the Cross to serve our wives and children the way our Catholic Faith instructs us too.
This is deeply lacking in America today, and it must be recovered.
I am a third-generation Italian American living in New Jersey. I grew up with men, my father, uncles, and a grandfather, who were not educated, who served in wars, who worked hard, who raised children with little-to-no money. And when the Lord called them home, they died with dignity and grace.
One such man was my grandfather, Frank DeLeo, born in Canton, Ohio, the home of Mother Angelica. Whenever I heard Mother Angelica “talk tough” on television, I understood her; it was the way many of the woman in my family talked: with an iron will and a big heart. Anyway, back to my grandfather.
At eighteen years old, he enlisted in the Marines and learned to be a cook. When he came home, he met my grandmother (who, believe it or not, was his RCIA teacher when he came into the Church after World War II). After getting married, my grandfather bought a small diner that served mostly truck drivers in an industrial part of Kearny, NJ, located in the shadows of Jersey City.
When my grandfather finished his shifts at the diner, he’d go to his second job as a janitor, until around 11pm. He’d come home, collapse on a chair, then get up again at the break of dawn and do it again…and again…and again. He raised four girls (my mother was one of those daughters), and his wife never worked a day outside the home.
Sunday was the only day my grandfather had a “break.” On Sundays we would all go to his home in Newark and have family dinner. I remember asking him about the tattoo on his arm one Sunday when I was a little boy. He was drinking a Schaffer beer in an old can with a pull off tab. “Grandpa—Why do you have a stove tattooed on your arm?” He responded, “That’s not a stove—it’s a deck of cards.” The tattoo was old and faded. Under what I thought was an old stove read, “The Ohio Kid.”
Was my grandfather perfect? No. However, he lived and died for his family. He was a man for others. He gave until there was nothing left.
Where are such men today? I admit that I need to model my life more after that of my grandfather. My life is so much more comfortable than his was. Yet I complain, “where are such men today?”
This is how we reclaim masculinity from gender-bending ideologies and chauvinism. It is Catholic men who need to lead the way—we were born to do so! Politicians, celebrities, and influencers won’t accomplish this task. It’s men like my grandfather, men who suffer and sacrifice, men who learn day in day out what it means to serve their families that will do so.
Men must learn to serve at the feet of Jesus on the Cross, to die to themselves, and not count the cost. When that happens—and not before—America will recover what has been lost and become once again the “light upon the hill” for the free world and beyond.
Lord, teach me to be generous,
to serve you as you deserve,
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to look for any reward,
save that of knowing that I do your holy will.
Author’s Note: For more on this subject, check out this author’s new book, Catholic Men Will Save America.
Photo by Tamara Govedarovic on Unsplash
