Happy Solemnity of Joseph, Husband of Mary!

God, our Father,

You willed that St. Joseph,

Spouse of the Virgin Mother of God,

should adore his Redeemer

in a humble stable and

rescue the Child Jesus from deadly peril.

Following his example

and by his intercession,

may Your Church cling

to the Virgin Mary in love

and constantly watch over the unfolding

of the mysteries of human salvation,

whose beginnings You entrusted

to his faithful care.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Today's image is Gerrit van Honthorst's Childhood of Christ.

Happy Solemnity of St. Joseph!

Joseph, son of David, you are the just man who blossoms like the lily,
the prudent steward whom the Lord placed over His household.
The Incarnate Word was pleased to dwell in your home;
by your prayers, may we love and serve Him always. Amen.


As the watermark indicates, today's image comes from Orthodox Images Iconography and Fine Art Reproductions. So go peruse their website; there's some great stuff!

Joseph, Son of David

Today we celebrate the feast of one of the Church's great saints and one of my personal favorites (as readers of this blog may recall): St. Joseph. Significant though he be, St. Joseph is one of the most enigmatic characters in Scripture. He is mentioned only a handful of times and speaks no lines. He was probably a humble man, a simple carpenter. He may have been one of the leading businessmen of the village of Nazareth, but Scripture gives no indication of this; more likely, he worked construction at the Roman resort complex at Decapolis, a short distance from Nazareth, which, we know from historical and archaeological sources, was a massive building project at the time. He probably carried his lunch pail to the building site each day, working alongside other Jewish laborers, piecing together instructions from his Roman superiors in broken Greek. But this is all speculation, and not based on biblical data.

But today's Gospel reading does provide us with one fascinating bit of information: the angel of the Lord addresses him as "Joseph, son of David." Here is this lowly man, about whom we know almost nothing, who speaks not a word in Scripture, but the Lord's messenger addresses him as one in the line of kings. If at first this seems incongruous, on closer examination we see just how fitting it is. In each generation a king teaches his son, the prince, what it means to be king; when he dies, the prince ascends the throne and in turn teaches his son to be king. But in the case of Joseph and his boy, the child is no mere prince, no merely human heir. Rather, this boy is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Who, then, is worthy to raise Him to manhood? Who can teach Him to be a king? Is Joseph, the carpenter, the one? Surely not, man would say. Indeed, he is, God answers. He is a son of David, not simply by blood, but in the fullest sense.

David was many things: a warrior, a poet, a king. Also an adulterer and murderer, a man with too much blood on his hands to build the temple. But apart from his successes and in spite of his failings, David was most importantly a man after God's own heart. So when the angel addresses today's saint as "Joseph, son of David," we should hear, "Joseph, after the Lord's own heart." Is it any wonder the Lord should choose such a man to be the foster father of His Son?

St. Joseph, patron of husbands, patron of fathers, carpenter of Nazareth, son of David, man after God's own heart: Pray for Us!

St. Joseph at the Harrowing of Hell

Readers of this blog will know that I am fond of speculating about the saints. And among my favorites are those stellar members of the Holy Family, Saints Joseph and Mary.

There are various depictions of Jesus appearing to Mary after His resurrection, but a friend of mine recently wondered: what was it like for Joseph to see Jesus after the crucifixion, when they met at the Harrowing of Hell?

Saint Joseph is the patron of a happy death, and I trust that he had one. But if he died with hope and joy, he also died in incomplete knowledge. He had not seen Jesus' public ministry; the Holy Spirit had not yet been poured out at Pentecost. I suspect that on his deathbed, Joseph trusted in the Lord, while still deeply wondering about what lay ahead (as he had done so many times during his life).

And if this was his disposition in death, it was also probably his disposition after death. There in the Netherworld, in Limbo, in the Bosom of Abraham, knowledge would have been imperfect. Joseph must have known that much was lacking there and, dimly, he would have perceived that there was more to come. But what? He trusted and yet... he could only see so far.

Christ is often pictured triumphantly smashing the Gates of Death as He descends into the Netherworld. But I wonder if His entry was, at first, less glorious. I wonder if the faithful souls, awaiting their redemption, were at first shocked and crushed to see that even Jesus, the Lord of Life, had been defeated, exiled here to the land of the dead. If even Jesus had been defeated, there were not grounds for hope at all; all was lost, in a very fundamental way.

But then, maybe with a word, or a gesture, Jesus indicated that He was not defeated, but that He had conquered death and had come to set the captives free. And then, beginning as a ripple and quickly becoming a flood, the utter dejection of the souls in Limbo turned to shouts of exaltation.

Now I could be wrong, but it wouldn't surprise me if Joseph was the first to raise that glad cry. He had been waiting, and hoping, and he knew that something big was about to break... And now it had. "That's my boy!" he shouts in excitement, turning to those around him. "I knew it! I KNEW it!" Laughing through the tears that are pouring down his face, he cannot help but share the glad tidings: "It's my boy!" But then humility seizes him and he concedes, "Well, of course, He's not really my boy; His father is the Lord. But He's the Son of my beloved wife and..." And quickly his enthusiasm takes over again - "And it's my BOY!" By now the other souls all see that their redemption is indeed at hand and all have joined in the joyful noise. But punctuating the cries of glory you hear one voice echoing above all the others, echoing into the depths of eternity: "That's my BOY!"

Photo credit: The Harrowing of Hell, by an unknown Dutch painter, c. 1600, from the Nasher Museum of Art, Duke University.

On St. Joseph

On this, the Feast of the Holy Family, I thought it might be appropriate to share a few thoughts on one of my favorite saints, St. Joseph.

Some years ago an interesting detail of Scripture was pointed out to me. When people in the crowds would refer to Jesus as "the carpenter's son," this was not simply a description: it was a back-handed insult. Because, you see, in a town the size of Nazareth, gossip surely spread quickly; not long after the Annunciation everyone in the village would have known that Mary was pregnant, and Joseph was not the father. So when they called Jesus "the carpenter's son," it was with a nudge and a wink. They all knew Joseph did not father this son.

Have you ever wondered why St. Joseph is often depicted holding a lily? Pius tradition tells the story that the lovely Mary of Nazareth had so many men seeking her hand that the suitors eventually had to draw sticks. No doubt one was a bit longer than the rest, to indicate the winner, but when Joseph drew his, the end promptly blossomed into a lily. Whether or not he drew the long one I do not know, but at that point it was pretty clear he was the winner. (Raphael and other artists sometimes depict a loser breaking his stick on his knee in frustration.) While the story is probably apocryphal, I have no doubt that Joseph was thrilled beyond words to be betrothed to Mary. So as much as he wanted to believe the best, he must have been absolutely crushed to discover that she was with child. (Indeed, it took a message from an angel for him to take Mary as his wife [Matt 1:20], and understandably so.)

People who know Greek tell me that Joseph's occupation might better be translated as "builder": a man who worked in wood, yes, but perhaps also in stone. In light of the large Roman building project going on nearby, we can speculate that Joseph was probably a construction worker. From time to time the conversation at the work site probably went a bit lewd, and you can be sure that Joseph came in for his share of abuse. After all, he was the cuckold with the wandering wife, or so it would seem. What answer can you give to such accusations? "No, really guys, she conceived through the power of the Holy Spirit." Right... I have no doubt that, being a construction worker, Joseph was a large, burly man, who could have easily decked someone. But rather than witty retorts or quick violence, I suspect Joseph responded with sorrow. I image that, no matter how often he heard such abuse, the pain never really went away; not that he cared much what other said about him, but how could they say such things about his beloved bride? (And how could he explain the absence of subsequent children? Marital chastity is not exactly the norm.)

We often meditate upon the sorrows of Our Lady, but I think we tend to forget the difficult life St. Joseph must have lived, from the stunning revelation of Mary's pregnancy and the Child's birth in a Bethlehem shed, to the flight into Egypt and the ongoing humiliations of life in Nazareth. And yet, I have no doubt that at the end of his days, Joseph would have told you that he was blessed beyond all just deserts and would not have traded the life he lived for any other.

Indeed, I imagine him on his death bed, with Jesus at his side, telling Him, "Son, I know You've come from God, and I know I don't always understand what that means, but I trust that Your Father hears You whenever You pray." Joseph summons up a little more strength, and with tears welling up in his eyes says, "Please, Jesus, do me this one favor: take care of your mother for me. And... and when You raise us up, on the last day, can I be with her again? It would mean more to me than You know..." And Jesus, Himself now lost in tears, looks at Joseph and tells him, "Father, I do know, and I promise you, it shall be so."

Did you know St. Joseph is the patron of a happy death? Reassured that the love of his family would extend into the hereafter, I have no doubt that his death was just that.