Solemnity of St. Joseph

This is a Solemnity, y'all! Lent is off for today! Enjoy whatever you gave up, like it's a Sunday! In our household that means ice cream, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, and eating lunch! Plus, we just love St. Joseph.

Giuseppe Maria Lo Spagnolo Crespi - Death of Saint Joseph [c.1712]
Via Gandalf's Gallery

The season of Lent is interrupted by the Solemnity of Joseph, Husband of Mary. With the exception of Our Lady, there is no greater saint in Heaven than Saint Joseph. This feast originated in the fifteenth century and was then extended to the whole church in 1621. In 1847 Pope Pius IX named Saint Joseph Patron of the Universal Church. Pope John XXIII had Saint Joseph's name included in the Roman Canon.

Here was an ordinary man to whom God granted extraordinary graces. Joseph was to fulfill a most singular mission in the salvific design of God. He experienced indescribable joys along with the trials of doubt and suffering. We recall his perplexity at the mystery of Mary's conception, at the extreme of material poverty in Bethlehem, at the prophecies of Simeon in the Temple, at the hurried flight into Egypt, at the difficulties of having to live in a foreign land, at the return from Egypt and the threat posed by Archelaus. Joseph proved himself always faithful to the will of God. He showed himself always ready to set aside his own human plans and considerations.

The explanation for this remarkable fidelity is that Jesus and Mary were at the centre of Joseph's life. Joseph's self-giving is an interweaving of faithful love, loving faith and confident hope. His feast is thus a good opportunity for us to renew our commitment to the Christian calling God has given each of us. (St. J. Escrivá, Christ is passing by)

In Conversation with God, Vol. 6: Special Feasts: January to June

St. Joseph, Terror of Demons
by Deacon Lawrence Klimecki

My favorite title for St. Joseph is Terror of Demons. For more about that title, read here.

I also really love this reflection on how we can see a little of what St. Joseph was like through his foster-son Jesus' storytelling and actions.

It is certainly true that St. Joseph had a deep interior and contemplative life — we know that because he heard the voice of God so clearly and directly at critical times in his life. And there is something to be gleaned from the Church’s traditional sense of the saint’s quietude.

But I’m beginning to suspect that’s not the whole story.

Joseph’s foster son, Jesus of Nazareth, was a compelling and charismatic enough preacher to attract apostles, disciples, and to see thousands of people gather around him to hear him preach. He told witty, insightful, and extemporaneous parables that made a point. He was often funny. He was comfortable with all manner of people.

Jesus, of course, is both fully human and fully divine. The interplay of his divine and human is a mystery we can’t wholly understand. But as Jesus is a person with a fully human nature, the Church has always known that Jesus learned at the table, and workbench, and hearth of his foster father, St. Joseph.

And given the Lord’s presence — his abilities as a raconteur and as a preacher, I think it’s fair to assume he learned some of that from the old man.

I’ve begun to suspect that St. Joseph was a really enjoyable guy to spend some time with. And I’ve started to wonder whether — if you ambled into his carpentry shop — he might not sometimes talk your ear off. He might have even been funny.

When Jesus told his apostles that “whoever has seen me has seen the Father,” he was talking about his heavenly Father.

But I think it’s also true about his earthly father — He who has seen Jesus has seen St. Joseph, too.

The history of devotion to St. Joseph is really fascinating. And I want to be careful here — I don’t want to remake the saint in my own image, and thus turn devotion into a kind of self-worship.

But I think the lesson of St. Joseph is that there’s not only one template for what it means to be a Christian man or woman. Being a saint means being more fully who we are, not less.

And St. Joseph embraced his vocation with the whole of his own personality — whatever it was.

May we do the same.

J.D. Flynn, The Pillar

 

The Holy Family with a Little Bird, c. 1645–1650

 I especially love paintings imagining what the Holy Family's life was like. Saint Joseph and Jesus together are particularly wonderful here.