The paradigm of Christian masculine strength.
I occasionally recommend to certain special friends a meditation on the words of St. Joseph. In coursing through the relevant passages, they soon discover that Joseph was a righteous man (Mt 1:19) and a man of dreams.
Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife. … When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him (1:20-24); Get up he said, take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. … So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt (2:13-15); Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel. … So he got up, took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel (2:19-21); Having been warned in a dream … he went and lived in a town called Nazareth (2:22-23).
Joseph also knew a father’s anxiety for his adolescent child: Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you (Lk 2:48).
But through all of this, he never utters a word. No reflections on child raising. No panegyrics on the joys of carpentry. No outbursts of ecstatic prayer in response to the wonder that God was then working for the children of Abraham.
Joseph is silent, obedient, present when needed. He is, no doubt, a humble man, a resident of Nazareth. For me he is the paradigm of Christian masculine strength.
Our society today has a certain masculine bent, to the point of being rather severely stooped. We admire the suave, productive type who inseminates the world with an endless input of bright ideas and clever schemes.
He knows the tricks of the trade, can’t be fooled, and will never ever be taken advantage of. Everyone has a right to be heard in this world, and this person will certainly be heard from, whether anyone else likes it or not.
Secure In Silence
Joseph, however, was a man of silence. Knowing himself to be in the midst of infinitely significant events, he had the good sense to simply pay attention. His ego-strength must have been of a very high calibre. Joseph was secure in himself because God was his only surety.
A sure sign that someone has something less than such strength is noise—endless babbling. Under the guise of “masculine” bravado, the noisy person is constantly fending off threats to his or her security. The best defense, after all, is a good offense.
So, every debating point must be won. Every brilliant idea must certainly have originated with oneself. Every slightly disparaging remark or glance—real or imagined—is a decimating blow that must never go unanswered. Prayer is seen as either empty, dry (and thus threatening), or as yet another occasion for verbal or mental theatrics.
St. Joseph, however, was a man of silence. He was able to hear even the voice of an angel. We seldom hear of angels today — though this is not surprising since often we are not even quiet enough to hear one another!
Supposed Threat
Joseph was also an obedient man. This word “obedience” is also a threatening one for us. We don’t mind so much the voice of command as long as it is we who are doing the talking. But to be under someone else, to be told what to do, is often perceived as a threat to our personal sovereignty.
Such sovereignty, however, has little to do with the kingdom of God. It reminds me of St. Paul’s words to the Corinthians: You have become kings—and that without us! How I wish that you really had become kings so that we might be kings with you! And then Paul goes on to describe an apostolic notion of kingship: For it seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like men condemned to die in the arena. … We are fools for Christ, but you are so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! … Up to this moment we have become the scum of the earth, the refuse of the world! (1 Cor 4: 8-13)
It is a shame that many of us think of or have experienced obedience as demeaning, as a de-personalizing vendetta against our dignity and ability to think for ourselves. Joseph could, no doubt, think for himself. But in the majestic command of the angel, he heard the compellingly attractive voice of his God, the Beloved, the Awesome.
His response was immediate and unquestioning, rooted in a sure instinct for life and in the joy-filled boldness required to abandon oneself into the hands of Love.
Obedience is a “rapt listening” for the voice of Life through whatever channel this might be spoken. To hear that voice, to embrace that command, is the most sovereignly free of all human actions because it is a “yes” from the depths of one’s being.
I don’t think God is much interested in a mechanical nodding of the head. He wants a “yes” that involves us utterly.
Joseph was also present when needed. This kind of presence, however, is not the same as that of someone who must make his or her presence felt. Such a person simply must be the center of attention, otherwise the universe might collapse!
Joseph was present in such away as to be unnoticed and perhaps taken for granted. This is a sure sign of great strength, whether one describes it as masculine or feminine. Through this unassuming sort of presence, simply being there when and as needed, the presence of Another becomes tangible.
Warm Light
Such a person has become a light for his neighbor’s feet. No one notices the light, but he or she is grateful that the darkness has diminished enough so that they can make their way along life’s journey. A star guided the Magi to Bethlehem, but Joseph was the light of God’s warmth surrounding Mary and guiding her to the place where Jesus was to be born.
Sometimes I like to speak of St. Joseph in a light and fond way as “the only sinner in the house.” In this wonderful, fatherly saint, I sense a deep humility born of the contemplation of God’s wonders in his spouse and in his child. There is no rancor here, no jealousy, no sense of being threatened, no self-absorbing, festering guilt.
There is only awe, a joy-filled contemplation, and a humble man’s gratitude for having been called to care for, nurture, and protect in some way the treasures of God. Perhaps this unassuming saint is, in a real sense, a man for our times.
image: St. Joseph icon by ©Zoyla Grace, Madonna House
