I train Catholic husbands and fathers through fire.

Why?

Because nobody was there for me to show me how to do this.

My house suffered because I was spiritually weak and deconditioned. No Catholic husband or father should have to experience this, and what’s worse? NO help is coming.

But here I am. Me. One man, mad as hell at how we, the linchpin of the family, have been cast aside and left to die slowly.

Forget that. I’m taking my 15 years of fitness training and coaching experience to train Catholic husbands and fathers to get spiritually and physically fit.

What This Is:

It’s training, period.

Not some performatively masculine red-pill nonsense with a Vatican flag. Not a smarmy, sanitized suburban theological campfire. It’s snot out of your nose, cutting your soul, bleeding daily into your vocation training.

What You’ll Find:

Free training manuals separated by the 5 Training Phases of Catholic Fatherhood

This is how you build and enforce your Rule phase by phase.

I have no funnels. I have no pitch. No endless CTAs and plugs. Just execution.

I’m literally a dad trying to help other dads avoid these pitfalls that the Church itself is not helping you with. I have some paid training products in my store for when you want to take it to the next level. That’s my offer. The end.

No community. No backroom. No hand-holding.

Who Writes This?

I’m not a content creator. I’m not a marketer. I’m not a YouTube theologian. I didn’t burn out in a startup. I didn’t go viral by accident. I didn’t pivot to “building my brand.”

I’m a husband and a father in the fire with a new son, building a training platform while being a full-time parent, watching my son during the day, training to stay competitive, oh and somewhere in there keeping the Eucharist and Marian Devotion at the center of it all.

I’m tired of what the Catholic faith has become. Cardinal Ratzinger called it.

I’m tired of the performative bloat, the sanitized rot, the Eurocentric models, not having a lane to be a Black, Catholic father from New York City, and seeing the same old faces hammer the same milquetoast Catholicism while ignoring fathers left and right.

I’m not an Afro-futurist, and I’m not a Euro-traditionalist. I’m old Catholic. The desert kind. I choose the burning ground between Egypt and Rome. I don’t quote Malcolm X. I quote Moses. The Black one.

So here I am. I’m not special or uniquely qualified. I just give a shit and I’m done watching men get rolled because they have no tools, no training, and nowhere to start while the Church sleeps.

⸻

Built in the Desert. Covered by Mary. Forged in Fire.

☩ Sans Peur

– Emmanuel