The Strong Silence of Joseph
THE 1ST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS
Mr. Jason VanBorssum, Postulant
Perhaps there is no other time during the year when our families can be at their worst than at Christmas time. The holiday brings together families and their baggage – and their political differences! – in ways that don’t always bring out the best in me. Er, us. Maybe it helps to remember that the Holy Family was like ours. They had tough times, too. There were plenty of challenges surrounding Mary’s – shall we say, unexpected – pregnancy; then they had trouble finding a place for Mary to give birth. Immediately afterward the family fled to a strange land because a mad tyrant wanted to kill Jesus. Twelve years later, Jesus and his parents were separated for three days when Jesus stayed behind at the Temple, choosing God the Father over his earthly parents. We have all been busy in the mad rush that is the holiday season, preparing for Christmas. A lot of preparation had to be made for the first Christmas also by Mary and Joseph. They had to prepare by saying “yes” to God’s master plan for the redemption of the world. Today our Gospel lesson focuses on the preparation made by Joseph for that first Christmas. And it was the most difficult preparation for him.
Some of you know that in my preaching and teaching, I strive to emphasize matters of history and context and the matrix of the ancient era. To better understand Scripture, history and context are indispensable. It is not mere “background” that we can just skip over, lest sacred text is minimized and washes over us as just “words on a page.” The great theologian and Oxford Biblical scholar George Caird explained that “Christianity appeals to history, and to history it must go.” That is to say, because the Christian Faith is an incarnational faith, it is also necessarily historical. The holy mystery of the Incarnation of the Divine Λόγος, the Second Person of the Trinity, in the tiny person of the newborn Jesus, was an historical event. At a specific time, and in a particular place, among a certain people, the great door of history swung open on its hinges, revealing God’s ultimate plan for humankind and indeed all creation, changing everything. In other words, context and history matter. And by digging into history, the story of Saint Joseph becomes much more than a quaint and charming tale frozen in amber.
In the ancient world, Jews were betrothed one year – sometimes two – before their marriage was completely formalized through establishing a household together. In Israelite society, when a man and woman were betrothed to one another, they were legally, covenantally married but did not yet live together. This is important because modern Western readers of the Nativity narrative incorrectly understand that Joseph was Mary’s fiancé. This is not accurate. Joseph was Mary’s husband. Imagine then the initial shock, pain, horror, sense of betrayal, and social shame that Joseph must have felt when he learned that his betrothed spouse was pregnant – and not by him. What suffering and anguish he must have endured.
Today’s Gospel reading records that Joseph was a “righteous man.” For the ancients, being righteous was not synonymous with merely being a person of faith: righteousness was linked to justice, ethics, and Torah observance. For Joseph, his initial shock in assuming that his betrothed had become pregnant through an act of adultery was surely undergirded with feelings of outrage at the injustice of it all, a total lack of ethics, and a flagrant violation of Torah commandments. It wasn’t that Joseph had the option to divorce Mary (or “put her away,” to use Matthew’s language), or that he was expected to do so under Israelite social norms; he was obligated to do so under the Jewish law. Furthermore, as a descendant of David, the cultural expectations placed on Joseph in this situation raised the stakes even higher for him personally.
Matthew’s Gospel records that Joseph was determined to dismiss Mary quietly, to spare her from public disgrace. This is rather gentrified language. In actuality, as a betrothed (that is, married) woman who had become pregnant before she and her husband had consummated their union and had begun living together, Mary could have been stoned to death. The Mother of Our Lord would have been publicly executed by a mob, and God’s promise of salvation would have died inside her.
The angel Gabriel appeared to Mary asking her to be the mother of Jesus and she said “yes” to God. The Blessed Virgin Mary’s assent has been described as the greatest “yes” ever uttered. But today’s Gospel reveals to us that Joseph said “yes” too. Like Mary, he received a visit from an angel asking him to agree to God’s plan by obediently playing a role in it. The angel reassured him saying that the Holy Spirit was the father of Mary’s child. Our Gospel today says, “When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had told him to do: he took his wife to his home.” Just as Mary said, “I am the handmaid of the Lord, let what you have said be done to me,” Joseph also did likewise when he obeyed the angel. Elizabeth said of Mary, “blessed is she who believed the promise made her by the Lord…” (Luke 1:45) and the same could also be said of Joseph, “blessed is he who believed the promise made him by the Lord…” What consequences the actions of one couple, Adam and Eve, had at the beginning of humankind’s break with God’s divine purpose. And what consequences the actions of another couple, Mary and Joseph, had at the beginning of God’s plan to redeem and reconcile humanity!
Scholars of history and archaeology have determined that the population of Nazareth in the First Century was probably between 400 and 500 people. We all know how gossip can spread like wildfire in small towns. I imagine that for the rest of his life, Joseph was the butt of jokes, that tongues wagged behind his back, that he was viewed with scorn because he was a cuckold who believed some cockamamie story that his wife conceived her firstborn child by the Holy Spirit. Yet the consequences and the stigma which Joseph endured because he said “yes” to God, honoring and protecting Mary and Jesus, make him the greatest of all the saints.
We don't know a lot about Joseph – but we know that his father’s name was Jacob and that he was the husband of Mary. We know that he was a carpenter and that he lived in Nazareth. We also know that he was a righteous man who observed religious law; we know he went to Jerusalem for the Jewish festivals. He also followed civil law; he went to Bethlehem for the census decreed by Emperor Augustus. Like Moses, he has a (fore)father named Joseph who goes down to Egypt. Like the Old Testament Joseph, this Joseph has a father named Jacob, and both Josephs receive important dreams foretelling their future. Like his ancestor Joseph of Old Testament fame, God spoke to Joseph of Nazareth in a dream and he obeyed.
What’s also interesting is that nowhere in the Gospels do we ever hear anything Joseph says. No words of Joseph are recorded in Scripture. Still, his silence is striking, because the earthly father of Our Lord is a man of action: he does what the angel tells him; he accepts Mary as his wife; he goes to Bethlehem; he finds a place to stay for the night; he takes his family to Egypt; he returns to Nazareth and trains Jesus in the craft of carpentry. He’s a man of action, not a man of words.
Saint Joseph is the patron saint of husbands, of fathers, the patron saint of families, the patron saint of households, the patron saint of workers. He is the patron against doubt and hesitation and is the patron saint of the dying (i.e., every human person at some point). Joseph is the patron saint of pregnant women, of travelers, of immigrants, and – Mrs. Vinson will be pleased to know this – he is the patron saint of realtors and people buying or selling houses. In 1870, Saint Joseph was declared patron of the universal Church. He is the patron saint of the entire Church! That’s a huge portfolio for a man of so few words. But it’s a perfect job for a holy man of action.
It’s happened to all of us. At least once. Likely many more times. It may be a flustered fathoming. It may be a more contemplated conundrum. Sometimes it’s a not-so-serious thought born of temporary fear or discomfort or fatigue. Sometimes it’s a more pressing question posed to God in desperation. But we’ve all done it. Whether quietly within the depths of our souls, or audibly while we are up to our armpits in the daily stresses of the human condition, we have all wondered, “What am I doing with my life?” Maybe life doesn’t quite look like what you hoped. Maybe it does, and you’re feeling overwhelmed by your repetitive duties. Maybe, instead of focusing on your own path, you are looking to the right and to the left at what others are doing. Maybe you’re thinking, “Wow, look at her. Look at all the good things he has going on. Look at all the good she does. Am I that good? I don’t think what I’m doing is as important as what that guy is doing.”
Many of us who are seeking to know, love, and serve the Lord is eager to do big things for Him because we love Him with big hearts. But sometimes our day-to-day lives don’t feel that big or that important, and we can be left wondering what on earth we’re doing with our lives. In these moments, Saint Joseph is the remedy. Saint Joseph’s life is the answer to the question, “Does what I’m doing even matter?”
What makes Saint Joseph so holy? I think it’s his unwavering obedience, fidelity, and love for God and his family. What Saint Joseph did in the midst of these moments is what makes him great. His humility is what exalts him. Throughout his simple life, he committed himself to the tasks set before him. He trusted in the Lord’s plan and placed his whole heart right there. He saw value in even the most mundane duties, thus making them holy and powerful. Joseph’s life and example inspire us to recognize and live into the “sacramentality of the ordinary.” To the people of Nazareth, it probably didn’t look like Joseph was doing big and mighty things for God. What Saint Joseph did in his quiet life was imbue every day, every repetitive action with electrifying love. Protecting his family. Creating a household. Fathering the sisters and brothers of Jesus. His silence is so deafening because he ceaselessly searched for the joy of the Lord in every ordinary moment. His service to the Lord has such great meaning because his heart was all-in. When we wonder if what we are doing even matters, Joseph’s life is the answer. When we feel confused or hopeless or tired or discouraged, Joseph’s model of persistence in love is the antidote. When we view our lives as small, wishing we could do bigger things, Joseph’s contentment within his vocation and state in life serve as our inspiration.
May the soft and strong spirit of dear Saint Joseph, faithful husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary and earthly father to Our Lord Jesus, be upon us this day. He was a quiet and reflective man. He was humble and modest in a world that in this day does not place a high value on such virtues that he portrayed. We look to Joseph as a shining example of what fatherhood and manliness can truly be. He was a carpenter, a builder, a worker. His were strong hands; rough and calloused from work, but they were also gentle and loving. Surely each piece he built was a work of love and crafted with great care. He taught his son how to build as well. It is of little wonder then that the most beautiful work of carpentry in history was the work Christ performed on the hard wood of the Cross. He suffered and died to become a great bridge connecting us to each other and to Himself. Pray for us, Saint Joseph, that we might learn how to better love, better serve, and better protect the sanctity of marriage, the sanctity of children in the womb, the sanctity of the family, and the sanctity of the Body of Christ, the Church. Be with us, Saint Joseph in our jobs, that we may remain humble in the good work that we do. Let all the work that we do be done with great love. Pray for us, blessed Joseph, that we might obtain some of the peace, the quiet strength, the faith to say “yes” to God and. May we come to know you and be with you and the Holy Family in Heaven for all eternity. Amen+
