My grandfather had stopped going to Mass after Vatican II. In his words, “They took the mystery out of it.” However, this did not stop him from seeing that his daughter, my mother, received all the sacraments and a Catholic education. One of the only memories I still have of him is when I made my first Holy Communion. He seemed to be the only person to actually understand the blessed, joyous, tremendous gravity of that day in my life. It would take me over a decade to truly understand it myself. I look back on that day with different eyes now—and I see his eyes—so bright, so green, and so shiny. I see his eyes, watching the mystery blossom within my heart for the first time as I unknowingly take the first bite out of the inexhaustible feast, which is union with Our Blessed Lord Jesus Christ.

The other side of my family had apostatized. They were loud, militant atheists. There was no holiday or family gathering where I was spared from hearing blasphemy and bile regurgitated onto the dinner table. My brother and I were forbidden from even approaching this atrocious spread—simply because of one definitive teaching of my mother’s father: “There is no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole.”

My grandfather’s eyes, which were so bright and shiny, had doubtlessly witnessed many atrocities as he served in the army during the Korean War. He would never discuss any of it, taking it all to his grave, leaving behind only that phrase as a sort of epitaph: There is no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole.

I know he did not invent the phrase, but you have to understand how heavy that phrase was coming from him. It was the terminus of any discussion that could even remotely offend faith and morals. It was a stake in the ground for his lineage. We could travel far from Holy Mother Church (as we did for a while, regrettably) and adopt all sorts of strange spiritual practices (as we had for a while, regrettably), but we dare not ever deny the reality and the relevance of God. We may never go a day without considering Him; we cannot forget to thank Him, He, Who IS responsible for every good in our lives.

There is a breed of Catholic that emphasizes “spiritual warfare.” They are my favorite. They see this world for the mystery it is—a battlefield flanked by three enemy fronts: the world, the devil, and most tenacious of all, our very own selves. It is a conflict won by no other sword but that which comes from the mouth of Our Blessed Lord.

In this way, we may be correct in echoing the words of my grandfather: there is no atheist in a foxhole. Each of us finds ourselves in our foxholes, which we have dug out by our sin and ignorance in a vain attempt to defend against the rampant atrocities we face in this fleeting life.

We live in a post-Christian world, and worse, we live in a world that falsely believes it has outgrown the need for its Father, the Almighty God. We often hear false and ugly statements about a God who is so infinitely good and our Faith, which is so true and beautiful. That is why we must never forget there are no atheists in foxholes.

Out of Charity, we must never cease to provide reinforcements to our brothers and sisters fighting on the front lines in those foxholes of drug addiction, prostitution, abuse, poverty, and injustice. Many of them quickly grow their eyes and see the battlefield that Earth truly is. Yet, they still need the reassurance that the war has already been won and that no matter how deep their foxhole has gotten or how wicked their trench-foot has rotted—the Warrior King Lord Jesus and His top generals, the Blessed Virgin, and St Michael—will always gladly fight not only beside them but for them.