The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph; 12-27-2020

Sir 3:2-6   Ps 128   Col 3:12-21   Lk 2:22-40

Deacon Jim McFadden

            Holy Family Sunday gives us the opportunity to reflect upon what makes a family “holy.”  Self-help books give a lot of advice as to what can make a family more cohesive, functional, healthier, and happier.  While these are good aspirations—who’s going to argue against them?—but is that what makes a family holy? 

            In our first reading from Sirach we’re given a fair amount of advice: “He who honors his father is gladdened by children…Take care of your father when he is old…even if his mind should fail, be considerate of him” (Sir 3:3-5,12-13).  These are good instances of helpful psychological advice.

            We hear similar input in our second reading from St. Paul’s letter to the Colossians: “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another: (Col 3:12-13a).  Again, good advice, especially the challenge to forgive one another.  Indeed, if family members don’t do that, but harbor grudges and resentments, a family won’t survive.   Since we live in such close proximity to one another and know each other’s foibles, idiosyncrasies, and weaknesses, if we don’t forgive one another, families just fall apart.

            So far, so good;  these are necessary conditions for a holy family; but, are they sufficient?  At first blush, they don’t seem particularly religious, though they are presented in Sacred Scripture.  While such advice would make a family psychologically healthier, would we say that they would make a family holier?  To answer that we may want to reflect upon the person of Joseph to shed some light on this problem.

            In Matthew’s Gospel, after the departure of the Magi, Joseph had a dream.  Notice how much Joseph is like his Old Testament namesake.  The latter was prudent, modest, gifted in the interpretation of dreams, and strove to do the right thing.  All of these attributes also apply to Mary’s husband.  We hear in the account of  The Flight to Egypt, “that the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt, and stay there until I tell you.  Herod is going to search for the child to destroy him” (Mt 2:13).

            Now, keep in mind that up to this point, Joseph had already gone through an awful lot: he had endured the embarrassment of Mary’s pregnancy, which undoubtedly must have precipitated raging gossip in the small town of Nazareth—think of this unwed woman pregnant before she was married; there’s no place to hide this shame.  Secondly, Joseph navigated he and Mary to Bethlehem for the census and had to endure the humiliation of not finding a proper place for his expectant wife.  Now, he’s being told that this child, born of parents of no renown, is being sought by the king in order to kill him.  What is going on?  Why would the King of Judea be after this innocent child from the obscure town of Nazareth?  On top of all of that, he’s now told to travel to a distant land.  Now, don’t think of this as a vacation excursion to Rancho Relaxo; rather, he’s instructed to travel over foreign roads, through rough terrain where food, water, and shelter are in short supply; where bandits lurk at every turn.  So, to bring along on this journey your wife who had just given birth and your newborn baby, that’s asking for a lot!  Even today, it’s no easy task to travel on an airplane with a newborn child, let alone traveling under such demanding conditions.  Commonsense would dictate, “Stay at home!”  But, by doing so, he would be putting his family in great danger.  From a psychological perspective, what Joseph was prepared to do was crazy.

            Yet, he went.

            Once he arrived in Egypt, they stayed for several years.  Later when Herod had died, an angel tells Joseph, again in a dream, to return to Israel.  Again, he uproots his family and embarks on a similarly dangerous trip to the dangerous place from which he fled.  This doesn’t make a lot of practical sense.  But, by being obedient, Joseph is unwittingly putting his family through a lot—one could say, it’s almost abusive.  Indeed, how much trauma can a family take?

            Here’s the key:  just like his biblical ancestors such as Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and King David, he listened to God; he trusted what he heard; and he obeyed God even when it meant danger to his family.  Even when it wasn’t clear precisely what God had in mind—think of the Sacrifice of Isaac—Joseph trusted. 

            Listen to how Matthew describes how Joseph responded: “He rose, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel” and went to the region of Galilee (Mt 2:21-22).  Again and again, Joseph listens, trusts, and obeys.  What we can learn from Joseph is that he knows precisely whom to obey.  And, he places the love he undoubtedly had for Mary and his child within the wider and broader context of his love for God.  Joseph subordinated his love and concern for his family to the will and purposes of God.  He didn’t stop loving Mary and the child, but he situated his love for them within a greater context—within the framework of his love for God.  And, that brothers and sisters, is what makes Joseph holy.  And, when families respond the same way, they, too, will become holy.  Amen.