“Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
— John 15:13 (RSV-CE)
The United States Army lives this verse out every day. In combat, we don’t debate the mission—we focus on completing it and keeping our brothers alive.
The political back-and-forth in Congress doesn’t reach us in the field. What matters most is simple:
“Stay alert. Stay alive.”
And yet, every soldier I served with would give their life for the person next to them. That kind of loyalty—that brotherhood—is hard to come by anywhere else.
The First Time I Stepped Into a Lodge
Veterans will tell you—we don’t miss the weird rules: no hands in pockets, matching PT jackets, the post-service “freedom beard.”
But what we do miss is the connection.
You were a family. You lived together. Fought together. Sometimes, died together.
“There is nothing on this Earth more prized than true friendship.”
— St. Thomas Aquinas
Some vets join the VFW. Others join fraternal groups. One, in particular, is often misunderstood—and frequently criticized by the Church.
I became a Freemason while still in the Army.
The interest first sparked at my going-away party in the basement of the Flushing, Michigan lodge. My cousin and I snuck upstairs into the dark lodge room. The atmosphere was mysterious, almost sacred.
The names echoed in my mind—Washington, Franklin, Revere, Burr. American founders. Patriots. Freemasons.
National Treasure and the Door That Opened
Years later, I was in Italy, watching National Treasure at the USO. I made a smug comment about how Hollywood got some things right and others wrong.
A man nearby smiled and said, “Let me know if you want to learn the truth.” His Masonic ring gleamed in the sunlight.
That night, I dove into research—philosophy, history, Masonic structure. The deeper I went, the more I wanted to know.
Eventually, I contacted that same lodge from my teenage years. I took the video interview from a friend's car outside a club in Vicenza, Italy.
“Do you believe in God?”
“I believe there is a God. I’m just not sure how involved He is.”
They scheduled my degrees. When I returned home, I received all three Blue Lodge degrees in one sitting—then went straight to Fort Sill, Oklahoma.
A New Brotherhood, A New Voice
While stationed at Fort Sill, I couldn’t stop reading. I got deep into logic, reason, esotericism, and Masonic rituals. I finally felt intellectually alive.
More than that, I found a community that reminded me of the military.
I started writing—quietly at first, for myself and a few close friends. Then the Midnight Freemasons blog invited me to contribute. From there, I published in magazines, attended degrees in Guthrie, and became a 32nd Degree Mason.
I was invited to speak in lodges across the country—Illinois, Ohio, Texas, New Jersey, and beyond.
I never thought I was a writer.
I never thought I was a public speaker.
But now, people were listening.
I published my first book—not a great one—but it was mine. A detective novel set in Grand Rapids. Then came my second: Snapshots of War.
Freemasonry showed me something in myself I didn’t know was there. The motto “Making Good Men Better” rang true for me. But even then, something was missing.
Marriage, Church, and Searching for More
After marrying Katie, lodge life faded into the background. We joined a non-denominational church. Our daughter attended Sunday school. Our newborn was loved on in the nursery.
If I wasn’t running tech in the back, I sat beside Katie. If I was, she’d be volunteering.
Then came politics. I got involved with the Libertarian Party, writing op-eds and engaging in policy. That interest in structure and governance found a new home.
Between my work at the Detroit Pistons, political involvement, and family life—my days were full.
In 2020, my daughter danced at a Pistons halftime show. We were all there—her, Katie, the family.
Then Rudy Gobert ran out of the locker room.
The next day, the NBA shut down.
Isolation and the Breaking Point
At first, it was just two weeks at home. Then two more. Then two more. It was like Groundhogs Day. Finally after awhile we could have games again. I was tasked with working EVERY home game in a dystopian, empty arena.
Walking through the locker room with no one around.
COVID tests before every game.
The court felt like a ghost town.
I was recognized as Employee of the Month. Nominated for Employee of the Year. Gave up working in my church, gave up quality family time, was tested twice before every game. But that same year, I was pressured to resign or compromise my values. I walked away. I can still remember my boss’s phrasing: ”You have to understand the predicament you’re putting me in.”
But what about the predicament the company was putting me in— putting my family in?
Not long after, I was interviewing with both Domino’s and Elevation Church. Both seemed promising. Elevation even hosted a family-style virtual dinner with Katie and me. Where they Door Dashed Qdoba for Katie and I.
It all felt like what we’d prayed for. A Christ-centered job. A fresh start.
But something wasn’t right.
Brick by Brick—Returning Home
Domino’s, a company founded by a devout Catholic, started looking more appealing. The church we were attending felt less like home.
More Catholics entered my orbit—mentors, coworkers, candidates.
My world was becoming Catholic again.
I told Katie: “I think I’m supposed to go home.”
The Elevation offer faded. The Republican Party aligned with my values— where I could unashamedly be Christian. Our church felt like it was no longer where we belonged.
The signs were everywhere. God was softening my heart from the moment I met Katie. He introduced the non-demonational churches to us to bring me closer to understanding Him. He used Katie’s determination for my soul to save it.
After years of doubt, pain, and searching—
He was guiding me home.