Join us in a Meditation Novena to St. Joseph.
Written by Teresa Williams, CRC, these nine daily meditations will pull text from Pope Francis’s Apostolic Letter: Patris Corde (With the Father’s Heart). Each day will include the text, a short meditation, and a prayer.
Teresa Williams, CRC grew up in the Detroit, Michigan area. She felt God’s call to consecrate her life to him at a young age and has been living out her vocation as a consecrated member of Regnum Christi since 2002. She has earned degrees in education and religious sciences and worked with young people in Ireland and several cities in Mexico. Currently, she is living and working in Monterrey, Mexico.
Day 1 – Introduction
Excerpt from Patris Corde
WITH A FATHER’S HEART: that is how Joseph loved Jesus, whom all four Gospels refer to as “the son of Joseph”.
Matthew and Luke, the two Evangelists who speak most of Joseph, tell us very little, yet enough for us to appreciate what sort of father he was, and the mission entrusted to him by God’s providence.
We know that Joseph was a lowly carpenter (cf. Mt 13:55), betrothed to Mary (cf. Mt 1:18; Lk 1:27). He was a “just man” (Mt 1:19), ever ready to carry out God’s will as revealed to him in the Law (cf. Lk 2:22.27.39) and through four dreams (cf. Mt 1:20; 2:13.19.22). After a long and tiring journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, he beheld the birth of the Messiah in a stable, since “there was no place for them” elsewhere (cf. Lk 2:7). He witnessed the adoration of the shepherds (cf. Lk 2:8-20) and the Magi (cf. Mt 2:1-12), who represented respectively the people of Israel and the pagan peoples.
Joseph had the courage to become the legal father of Jesus, to whom he gave the name revealed by the angel: “You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Mt 1:21). As we know, for ancient peoples, to give a name to a person or to a thing, as Adam did in the account in the Book of Genesis (cf. 2:19-20), was to establish a relationship.
In the Temple, forty days after Jesus’ birth, Joseph and Mary offered their child to the Lord and listened with amazement to Simeon’s prophecy concerning Jesus and his Mother (cf. Lk 2:22-35). To protect Jesus from Herod, Joseph dwelt as a foreigner in Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-18). After returning to his own country, he led a hidden life in the tiny and obscure village of Nazareth in Galilee, far from Bethlehem, his ancestral town, and from Jerusalem and the Temple. Of Nazareth it was said, “No prophet is to rise” (cf. Jn 7:52) and indeed, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (cf. Jn 1:46). When, during a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, Joseph and Mary lost track of the twelve-year-old Jesus, they anxiously sought him out and they found him in the Temple, in discussion with the doctors of the Law (cf. Lk 2:41-50).
Meditation
Pope Francis describes St. Joseph as “ever ready to carry out God’s will as revealed to him.” Such a statement is easy to say, but perhaps much more difficult to live out to its ultimate consequences. Rather than rushing past these powerful words, let us pause to take them in and visualize their meaning. What might it look like were I to live ever ready to carry out God’s will in my life?
It might be helpful to undertake a brief reflection as to what such readiness might entail. For those of us who tend to be go-getters by nature, this phrase might primarily invoke images of action, getting the job done. However, the Holy Father’s emphasis is deliberately on readiness, an attitude of the heart that leads to action but necessarily precedes it. Readiness implies openness. It implies listening. It implies a delicate attitude of attentiveness to even the slightest hints of God’s presence and will in our lives.
If this sounds overwhelming, it does not necessarily need to be. Certainly, attentive readiness is a habit to be cultivated, but isn’t this true in any relationship? Think about the capacity of a mother to be aware of her baby’s every need. Think of two people in love and their ability to become tuned in to the needs and desires of the other. We are capable of attentiveness and readiness in our relationships with others, and so too, we are capable of it in our relationship with God.
Questions for Reflection
- How can I prepare the ground to live with St. Joseph’s attitude of readiness by becoming more aware of the very ordinary ways that God reveals himself to me? Is there one particular way that I can start to be more attentive to God´s presence, perhaps through another person, a place, a moment in my day, a current life-circumstance?
- The Pope presents St. Joseph as ever-ready to carry out God’s will. Is there a specific area of my life in which I am resistant to embracing his will? Am I at least willing to open my heart to share my struggle with him and to ask for the grace to be able to come to embrace it? What attitudes or personal decisions might be required in order to take a step closer to ever-readiness to carry out God’s will in my life?
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 2 – A Beloved Father
Excerpt from Patris Corde
The greatness of Saint Joseph is that he was the spouse of Mary and the father of Jesus. In this way, he placed himself, in the words of Saint John Chrysostom, “at the service of the entire plan of salvation”.
Saint Paul VI pointed out that Joseph concretely expressed his fatherhood “by making his life a sacrificial service to the mystery of the incarnation and its redemptive purpose. He employed his legal authority over the Holy Family to devote himself completely to them in his life and work. He turned his human vocation to domestic love into a superhuman oblation of himself, his heart and all his abilities, a love placed at the service of the Messiah who was growing to maturity in his home”.
[…]
Joseph saw Jesus grow daily “in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favour” (Lk 2:52). As the Lord had done with Israel, so Joseph did with Jesus: he taught him to walk, taking him by the hand; he was for him like a father who raises an infant to his cheeks, bending down to him and feeding him (cf. Hos 11:3-4).
In Joseph, Jesus saw the tender love of God: “As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him” (Ps 103:13).
Meditation
“In Joseph, Jesus saw the tender love of God.” What a profound statement. Jesus, the Son of God, God himself made man, experienced the tender love of his Father through a mere mortal like ourselves. Through his humble, unassuming gift of self to the Holy Family, Joseph, the carpenter, faithfully reflected the loving face of God to Mary his wife and Jesus his son.
As baptized Christians, each of us is called to be a bearer of the divine to others. God’s very love is present in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who lives in us. In our body and soul, we are living images of God in the world. God speaks to us in all of our humanity, including through our bodily senses, and so also wishes to pour out his love for others through our bodily gestures of love and service.
The Holy Father writes that Saint Joseph “turned his human vocation to domestic love into a superhuman oblation of himself, his heart and all his abilities.” He used his authority as head of the family not for his own gain, but “to devote himself completely to [Mary and Jesus] in his life and work.” By doing nothing other than living out his vocation, “he placed his life at the service of the entire plan of salvation.” His greatness was found in his simple, loving fidelity to God’s will through the often very ordinary tasks of everyday life.
Questions for Reflection
- Do I realize that as Joseph was for Jesus, I am called to be the reflection of God’s unconditional love to those I encounter? Do others experience the tender love of God through their encounters with me, or could they be in danger of developing a somewhat distorted understanding of God’s image through their dealings with me? Is there one way in which I feel called to be a better mirror of God’s loving gaze towards others today?
- Joseph “employed his legal authority over the Holy Family to devote himself completely to them in his life and work.” When I am called to exercise authority, be it in the home, in my workplace, or in my apostolate, does my focus sometimes subtly become myself and how am I performing, or is it on true selfless service to those I am called to lead? How might I learn to lead more like Saint Joseph?
- Simply by living out his vocation as spouse and father, Saint Joseph “placed his life at the service of the entire plan of salvation.” By doing nothing other than living out his vocation. No need to lean on titles and positions. No need to flaunt accomplishments and achievements. Just living out his calling with all the love of which his heart was capable. Do I believe that my small “yeses” to the simplest details of my vocation take on transcendent value when offered to God? How can I imitate Saint Joseph’s example by making a selfless oblation of myself in even the most unromantic aspects of my calling?
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 3 – A Tender and Loving Father
Excerpt from Patris Corde
The history of salvation is worked out “in hope against hope” (Rom 4:18), through our weaknesses. All too often, we think that God works only through our better parts, yet most of his plans are realized in and despite our frailty. Thus Saint Paul could say: “To keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness’” (2 Cor 12:7-9).
Since this is part of the entire economy of salvation, we must learn to look upon our weaknesses with tender mercy.
The evil one makes us see and condemn our frailty, whereas the Spirit brings it to light with tender love. Tenderness is the best way to touch the frailty within us. Pointing fingers and judging others are frequently signs of an inability to accept our own weaknesses, our own frailty. Only tender love will save us from the snares of the accuser (cf. Rev 12:10). That is why it is so important to encounter God’s mercy, especially in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, where we experience his truth and tenderness. Paradoxically, the evil one can also speak the truth to us, yet he does so only to condemn us. We know that God’s truth does not condemn, but instead welcomes, embraces, sustains, and forgives us. That truth always presents itself to us like the merciful father in Jesus’ parable (cf. Lk 15:11-32). It comes out to meet us, restores our dignity, sets us back on our feet, and rejoices for us, for, as the father says: “This my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (v. 24).
Even through Joseph’s fears, God’s will, his history, and his plan were at work. Joseph, then, teaches us that faith in God includes believing that he can work even through our fears, our frailties, and our weaknesses. He also teaches us that amid the tempests of life, we must never be afraid to let the Lord steer our course. At times, we want to be in complete control, yet God always sees the bigger picture.
Meditation
“All too often, we think that God works only through our better parts, yet most of his plans are realized in and despite our frailty.” The Holy Father’s words strike familiar chords within our hearts. How many times do we consider our weakness to be a bothersome obstacle to God’s action in us? How many times does God show us the opposite throughout the pages of Scripture? Salvation history, time and again, was built upon the participation of fragile, sinful, imperfect men and women.
The English translation of the Holy Father’s writing fails to pick up on a nuance of his intended meaning: God works THROUGH our frailty, not only in spite of it. Is it not often when we are most aware of our weakness that we are most aware of our need for God and open to his grace? Our experience of our littleness and insufficiency is only an opportunity to rend our hearts entirely malleable to the power of God’s merciful, abundant, unmeasured love and grace. Experience of weakness is an opportunity for the experience of grace if we are only willing to allow it to be.
Saint Joseph was a weak man, as are both you and I. He fell terribly short of “what it took” to be the father of God’s son. Who would dare to claim to be qualified for such a mission? Yet, he allowed himself to be overshadowed by the tender gaze of the Father, and this loving gaze enabled him to give God room to pour out overabundant grace where he was miserably lacking. Will we, too, allow this loving gaze to reveal to us the truth of who we are in God’s eyes? Will we allow it to win out over the dissonant voices of doubt and shame that all too often enslave us?
Questions for Reflection
- “We must learn to look upon our weaknesses with tender mercy.” I may currently be far from this attitude, but am I willing to allow God the Father to gently teach me to look upon my weaknesses from the perspective of his own merciful gaze? Is there a particular part of my personality, my history, or my fallen tendencies that I particularly struggle to contemplate with mercy? Have I ever asked God the Father to show me how he sees this part of me?
- “Paradoxically, the evil one can also speak the truth to us, yet he does so only to condemn us. We know that God’s truth does not condemn, but instead welcomes, embraces, sustains, and forgives us.” Taking the Holy Father’s words as a point of reference, whose “truth” does my own vision of myself best resemble? God’s or the evil one’s? What about my vision of others?
- “Faith in God includes believing that he can work even through our fears, our frailties, and our weaknesses.” Do I truly believe this? Is there a specific fear currently gnawing at my heart that the Lord invites me to give over to him so that he can speak words of hope and peace into this situation? Perhaps I can take a moment to speak about this with him.
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 4 – An Obedient Father
Excerpt from Patris Corde
As he had done with Mary, God revealed his saving plan to Joseph. He did so by using dreams, which in the Bible and among all ancient peoples, were considered a way for him to make his will known.
Joseph was deeply troubled by Mary’s mysterious pregnancy. He did not want to “expose her to public disgrace”, so he decided to “dismiss her quietly” (Mt 1:19).
In the first dream, an angel helps him resolve his grave dilemma: “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Mt 1:20-21). Joseph’s response was immediate: “When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him” (Mt 1:24). Obedience made it possible for him to surmount his difficulties and spare Mary.
In the second dream, the angel tells Joseph: “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him” (Mt 2:13). Joseph did not hesitate to obey, regardless of the hardship involved: “He got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod” (Mt 2:14-15).
In Egypt, Joseph awaited with patient trust the angel’s notice that he could safely return home. In a third dream, the angel told him that those who sought to kill the child were dead and ordered him to rise, take the child and his mother, and return to the land of Israel (cf. Mt 2:19-20). Once again, Joseph promptly obeyed. “He got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel” (Mt 2:21).
During the return journey, “when Joseph heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. After being warned in a dream” – now for the fourth time – “he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth” (Mt 2:22-23).
The evangelist Luke, for his part, tells us that Joseph undertook the long and difficult journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem to be registered in his family’s town of origin in the census of the Emperor Caesar Augustus. There Jesus was born (cf. Lk 2:7) and his birth, like that of every other child, was recorded in the registry of the Empire. Saint Luke is especially concerned to tell us that Jesus’ parents observed all the prescriptions of the Law: the rites of the circumcision of Jesus, the purification of Mary after childbirth, the offering of the firstborn to God (cf. 2:21-24).
In every situation, Joseph declared his own “fiat”, like those of Mary at the Annunciation and Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.
Meditation
“As he had done with Mary, God revealed his saving plan to Joseph.”
“Good for Joseph,” we might be thinking, “if God were to reveal his plan to me in dreams it would be so much easier.” As the saying goes, the grass is always greener on the other side. There will always be excuses to doubt that God really, truly speaks to us—even if he were to do so in ways as “obvious” as a dream. Not even a dream, or even a vision, is exempt from a certain level of doubt.
Despite the challenges involved in discerning God’s voice, of one thing we can be certain: God truly does speak. He is not out to trip us up or hide his will so cunningly as to make it indecipherable. But because he respects our freedom to choose to seek and adhere to his Word in our lives, he does not proclaim his will from flashing billboards. He invites us to demonstrate our desire to follow him by carefully opening our ears to the soft, gentle whisper of his voice.
As he was with Joseph, God is faithful to those who desire to seek his will. He will always give us sufficient light to take the next step. Sometimes, our inability to hear his voice can be due to our insistence on “dictating the terms” to God. We think we know the best way for God to speak to us or the amount of clarity that we ought to receive. And at times, we can be so intent on trying to see what we want to see, that we fail to see the delicate signs of God’s presence already manifest. God is much more concerned about having a living relationship with us than about dictating his will to us as a set of numbered instructions. He will often give us enough light to take only the next step – not more, not less – so that we might be reminded that it is only in relationship with him, founded on trust, that we will be able to continue on our journey, step by step, with him.
Questions for Reflection
- Could I possibly have a pre-established idea of how God should speak to me? Take a moment to step beyond that and reflect on the ways that he actually DOES speak to you, here and now, in the flesh-and-bones circumstances of your life. Are you aware of his voice present in others, in nature, in music, in Scripture? Through your emotions, your thoughts, your longings? Even through your intuitions? Where is God in all of this?
- Do I, like Saint Joseph and the Blessed Virgin, strive to declare my “fiat” before the simplest manifestations of God’s presence in my life? Or do I sometimes find myself waiting for more momentous manifestations to offer that unconditional fiat, unaware that to he who is faithful with a what is little, more will be entrusted?
- Take a moment to become aware of one way in which God has been placing a desire or invitation in your heart of late. Perhaps you haven’t had time to become fully aware of it up until now, or perhaps you have been finding excuses to put it off, waiting for a fuller clarity to arise. Remember that God often allows us to see only the next step, and the following step further down the road may only become clear once we have taken the first. Perhaps now is a good moment to make a decision to act on that small part of the picture that you do see clearly, even if that only means taking one tiny baby step. You may be surprised where just one step can lead!
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 5 – An Accepting Father
Excerpt from Patris Corde
Often in life, things happen whose meaning we do not understand. Our first reaction is frequently one of disappointment and rebellion. Joseph set aside his own ideas in order to accept the course of events and, mysterious as they seemed, to embrace them, take responsibility for them and make them part of his own history. Unless we are reconciled with our own history, we will be unable to take a single step forward, for we will always remain hostage to our expectations and the disappointments that follow.
The spiritual path that Joseph traces for us is not one that explains, but accepts. Only as a result of this acceptance, this reconciliation, can we begin to glimpse a broader history, a deeper meaning. We can almost hear an echo of the impassioned reply of Job to his wife, who had urged him to rebel against the evil he endured: “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” (Job 2:10).
Joseph is certainly not passively resigned, but courageously and firmly proactive. In our own lives, acceptance and welcome can be an expression of the Holy Spirit’s gift of fortitude. Only the Lord can give us the strength needed to accept life as it is, with all its contradictions, frustrations and disappointments.
Jesus’ appearance in our midst is a gift from the Father, which makes it possible for each of us to be reconciled to the flesh of our own history, even when we fail to understand it completely.
Just as God told Joseph: “Son of David, do not be afraid!” (Mt 1:20), so he seems to tell us: “Do not be afraid!” We need to set aside all anger and disappointment, and to embrace the way things are, even when they do not turn out as we wish. Not with mere resignation but with hope and courage. In this way, we become open to a deeper meaning. Our lives can be miraculously reborn if we find the courage to live them in accordance with the Gospel. It does not matter if everything seems to have gone wrong or some things can no longer be fixed. God can make flowers spring up from stony ground. Even if our heart condemns us, “God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything” (1 Jn 3:20).
Here, once again, we encounter that Christian realism which rejects nothing that exists. Reality, in its mysterious and irreducible complexity, is the bearer of existential meaning, with all its lights and shadows. Thus, the Apostle Paul can say: “We know that all things work together for good, for those who love God” (Rom 8:28). To which Saint Augustine adds, “even that which is called evil (etiam illud quod malum dicitur)”. In this greater perspective, faith gives meaning to every event, however happy or sad.
Nor should we ever think that believing means finding facile and comforting solutions. The faith Christ taught us is what we see in Saint Joseph. He did not look for shortcuts, but confronted reality with open eyes and accepted personal responsibility for it.
Meditation
From our two thousand-year-later vantage point, the life Saint Joseph led alongside our Blessed Mother and the child Jesus can seem romantically perfect. While the Holy Family was certainly an oasis of beauty and love, the circumstances they faced were often far from ideal. An impossible dilemma involving his betrothed’s unexpected pregnancy, an arbitrary command to drop everything and leave to register in a census while his wife was nine months pregnant, a midnight escape from a massacre threatening his child, a two-year exile in Egypt… these were only a few of the trials that stretched Joseph’s faith to the limits. I invite you to take a moment to imagine just one of these that might be particularly relatable to a situation in your own life. What must Joseph had felt, thought, experienced?
The Holy Father writes that “Joseph set aside his own ideas in order to accept the course of events and, mysterious as they seemed, to embrace them, take responsibility for them and make them part of his own history.” As great as the trials he faced were, Joseph did not allow adversity to submerge him in bitterness, but rather accepted and embraced these trials: not because he understood them, but because he trusted that God was mysteriously present and at work in the midst of them. The trials were not miraculously lighter to bear because it was the Holy Family who was living them. The pain and suffering of displacement, persecution, anxiety, and uncertainty were no less acute; in fact, they were likely more intensely felt by such pure hearts. Kingly jealousy, an emperor’s avarice, and apparent adultery were certainly not godly things, but rather than rejecting their place in his story, Joseph embraced them and sought to discover God’s invitation through it all. Because his heart was open and accepting, what were only terribly flawed human choices were transformed into mysterious yet powerful bearers of grace.
Joseph teaches us that no circumstance of our lives can be considered irremediably removed from grace’s reach. Disappointment and suffering, evil and tragedy are realities in our world, yet these are not on the periphery of God’s saving action in this world, but mysteriously intertwined with salvation history. In the school of Saint Joseph, we are invited to learn to accept both the light and the shadows in our lives, not in an attitude of resignation, but rather with the childlike attitude of one who trusts that his Father has not left him alone. This trusting acceptance, in turn, paves the way for a mature attitude of faith which seeks to actively choose to love in the midst of adversity and to discern the way that we are called to cooperate in God’s salvific plan, seeking to harmonize life’s dissonant tones with the melody of God’s loving plan.
Questions for Reflection
- The Holy Father invites us to be “reconciled to the flesh of our own history, even when we fail to understand it completely.” Is there a specific part of my history, be it my own personal history, family history, or even cultural history, that I have of yet been unable to accept as an arena for grace? Acceptance does not mean excusing or whitewashing what is sinful or broken, but rather allowing God to enter in and shed his light on that situation, rather than keeping the broken in our lives artificially walled off from the possibility of God’s saving action. Am I willing to allow Saint Joseph to teach me how to walk a journey of acceptance in my life?
- “God can make flowers spring up from stony ground.” What barren, stony landscapes are currently present in my life or the lives of those who are dear to me? Do I truly believe that God can bring new life even where there is none to be found? Am I willing to entrust these situations into his hands, to give them over to him completely? Am I open to discern in prayer and trustingly embrace the small way he might be inviting me to collaborate in watering this stony ground, even if my natural idea of collaboration might look very different?
- The Holy Father speaks of the Christian realism that embraces everything that exists. We are not called to reject reality, but rather to embrace it as the place where God wishes to act in the here and now. Rather than standing by as passive critics, often we are called to take a place as active workers in the construction zone of our hurting world. Is there an aspect of “reality” which particularly vexes me? Could I be called to transform my vexation into a more evangelical attitude of courageous acceptance and commitment to being an instrument of God’s transformative power?
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 6 – A Creatively Courageous Father
Excerpt from Patris Corde
If the first stage of all true interior healing is to accept our personal history and embrace even the things in life that we did not choose, we must now add another important element: creative courage. This emerges especially in the way we deal with difficulties. In the face of difficulty, we can either give up and walk away, or somehow engage with it. At times, difficulties bring out resources we did not even think we had.
As we read the infancy narratives, we may often wonder why God did not act in a more direct and clear way. Yet God acts through events and people. Joseph was the man chosen by God to guide the beginnings of the history of redemption. He was the true “miracle” by which God saves the child and his mother. God acted by trusting in Joseph’s creative courage. Arriving in Bethlehem and finding no lodging where Mary could give birth, Joseph took a stable and, as best he could, turned it into a welcoming home for the Son of God come into the world (cf. Lk 2:6-7). Faced with imminent danger from Herod, who wanted to kill the child, Joseph was warned once again in a dream to protect the child, and rose in the middle of the night to prepare the flight into Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-14).
A superficial reading of these stories can often give the impression that the world is at the mercy of the strong and mighty, but the “good news” of the Gospel consists in showing that, for all the arrogance and violence of worldly powers, God always finds a way to carry out his saving plan. So too, our lives may at times seem to be at the mercy of the powerful, but the Gospel shows us what counts. God always finds a way to save us, provided we show the same creative courage as the carpenter of Nazareth, who was able to turn a problem into a possibility by trusting always in divine providence.
If at times God seems not to help us, surely this does not mean that we have been abandoned, but instead are being trusted to plan, to be creative, and to find solutions ourselves.
That kind of creative courage was shown by the friends of the paralytic, who lowered him from the roof in order to bring him to Jesus (cf. Lk 5:17-26). Difficulties did not stand in the way of those friends’ boldness and persistence. They were convinced that Jesus could heal the man, and “finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the middle of the crowd in front of Jesus. When he saw their faith, he said, ‘Friend, your sins are forgiven you” (Vv. 19-20). Jesus recognized the creative faith with which they sought to bring their sick friend to him.
Meditation
What would have been going through Saint Joseph’s mind when he was turned away once and again from each of Bethlehem’s inns? One can suppose that his imagination jumped to the worst possible of scenarios: how could he possibly bear the thought of his wife giving birth in a dirty alley, of God’s son being born in such wretchedness? Weighed down by worry for his wife, whose condition seemed to become more urgent with each door that was closed before them, his heart must have silently cried out to the Lord, looking for one gesture of mercy, one possible answer to his ever-more-desperate situation.
His cry was heard. A gruff innkeeper, certainly overworked and only too eager to send Mary and Joseph on their way so that he could find some much needed rest for the night, could not bring himself to turn a blind eye to the desperation in their eyes as they turned away into the night. God moved his heart to stretch beyond the comfort of what was strictly his duty to offer the little he had to this young, struggling couple. It would certainly have been easy to justify leaving the problem for someone else to solve, yet he felt called to engage, rather than walk away. Perhaps his small gesture of kindness gave Joseph the strength to trust in God’s providence and continue on.
Once at the stable, Joseph could easily have succumbed to despair as he contemplated the stable’s obvious inadequacy for such an event as the birth of the promised Messiah. He could have blamed himself, blamed the emperor, blamed the long line of uncooperative innkeepers. Yet, his heart did not harbor blame or retreat to take shelter in anger and resentment. With the creative love of a spouse and father, he set about making this meager lodging as welcoming and worthy as at all possible.
Contemplate this scene for a moment. Imagine Saint Joseph as he first sets eyes on the cave, exhausted by the insufficiency of it all. Imagine him as his eyes come alive as he begins to contrive ways to make it a suitable place for Mary and her child.
The Christ Child did not desire soft cushions and luxurious linens for a bed. He did not aspire to make his abode amid the halls of a great palace. The humble, loving hearts of a carpenter and his virgin wife were all the welcome he desired. So too, he invites us to place the meager “stables” of our limited talents at the service of situations and needs requiring far more than what we can offer. He does not ask us to offer him a palace. He only invites us to lend him the little we have and to make ready our hearts to receive him in the person of the needy around us.
Questions for Reflection
- How often does the Christ Child knock on my own door in the guise of a needy brother or sister? When presented with a difficulty or need, is my first reaction to engage or to turn away? What might it look like, in my own life, when I find myself with nothing but a meager stable to offer in the face of a situation of acute need? How might I, too, be offered the opportunity to turn a paltry cave into a cozy lodging for the king of kings?
- Pope Francis reflects that Joseph was, so to speak, the “miracle” by which God cared for Mary and Jesus in their moment in need. Do I realize that in my life, too, God might wish to respond to a difficult situation currently confronting me or someone close to me by inviting me to respond with creative courage? Am I prepared to lend my gifts and talents to be instruments of his action in this world, aware that though I am certainly unable to solve all of the world’s problems, my small “cave” is all God asks for in order to be able to work through me? Am I willing to set about transforming the foul-smelling stables in my life into a place for God to dwell?
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 7 – A Creatively Courageous Father (Part 2)
Excerpt from Patris Corde
At the end of every account in which Joseph plays a role, the Gospel tells us that he gets up, takes the child and his mother, and does what God commanded him (cf. Mt 1:24; 2:14.21). Indeed, Jesus and Mary his Mother are the most precious treasure of our faith.
In the divine plan of salvation, the Son is inseparable from his Mother, from Mary, who “advanced in her pilgrimage of faith, and faithfully persevered in her union with her Son until she stood at the cross”.
We should always consider whether we ourselves are protecting Jesus and Mary, for they are also mysteriously entrusted to our own responsibility, care and safekeeping. The Son of the Almighty came into our world in a state of great vulnerability. He needed to be defended, protected, cared for and raised by Joseph. God trusted Joseph, as did Mary, who found in him someone who would not only save her life, but would always provide for her and her child. In this sense, Saint Joseph could not be other than the Guardian of the Church, for the Church is the continuation of the Body of Christ in history, even as Mary’s motherhood is reflected in the motherhood of the Church. In his continued protection of the Church, Joseph continues to protect the child and his mother, and we too, by our love for the Church, continue to love the child and his mother.
That child would go on to say: “As you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Mt 25:40). Consequently, every poor, needy, suffering or dying person, every stranger, every prisoner, every infirm person is “the child” whom Joseph continues to protect. For this reason, Saint Joseph is invoked as protector of the unfortunate, the needy, exiles, the afflicted, the poor and the dying. Consequently, the Church cannot fail to show a special love for the least of our brothers and sisters, for Jesus showed a particular concern for them and personally identified with them. From Saint Joseph, we must learn that same care and responsibility. We must learn to love the child and his mother, to love the sacraments and charity, to love the Church and the poor. Each of these realities is always the child and his mother.
Meditation
God trusted Joseph with his greatest treasures: his own Son made flesh and the woman he chose to be his mother. The two purest beings to ever walk this earth were entrusted to his care. Joseph himself was imperfect, flawed, a man marked, like us, by original sin. Yet, his trust in God was so great that he accepted this mission with humility. He did not stop to look at himself and his own insufficiency. His attention was too occupied contemplating God and his faithful love to become caught up in navel-gazing.
With simplicity, Joseph accepted the mission that he was given, knowing full well that it was greater than he was. He cherished the treasures entrusted to him and guarded them with his heart, body, and soul. He safeguarded his family through the trials that assailed them, without protesting to God for failing to save them from suffering. He walked in faith, not demanding explanations or shortcuts, but trusting in God to show the way.
As the Holy Father ponders in his letter, each of us is entrusted in some way with care for Jesus and his Mother.” “Every poor, needy, suffering or dying person, every stranger, every prisoner, every infirm person,” the Holy Father writes, “is ‘the child’ whom Joseph continues to protect.” The poor among us are not an abstract social problem, a faceless group whose fate is to be resolved by government leaders or society at large. They are not a problem to be solved, a plague to be exterminated, an unclean race to be avoided. Each and every one of those suffering in our midst is Jesus, who personally identifies with every one of the least of our brothers and sisters. And Jesus entrusts them to us, not to groups or institutions, but to each one of those who as a follower of Christ is called to be his hands and feet for others on this earth. Jesus is present every way we might look, in every person in need around us. How might we, like Saint Joseph, learn to embrace each person entrusted to us, be it only for a few seconds of our day, and safeguard them as if God himself had personally commended them to our care?
Questions for Reflection
- When met with a need which is clearly greater than I am, where do I turn my focus? Are my eyes set on myself and whether or not I am capable of shouldering all it might imply? Or, like Saint Joseph, is my first thought to turn my gaze to God: to entrust the situation to his unfailing fidelity, to ask him to fill my heart with his love for the persons involved, and to unreservedly place my trust in him to show the way that he wishes to work in this situation?
- How can I learn to be a “protector” of the Church as Saint Joseph was of Mary? When I see human weakness or even sin in the Church’s members or leaders, is my attitude one that constructively builds up the Church or a destructive criticism that instead further tears her down? Have I ever thought of entrusting that which is of particular concern to me in the Church to the special protection of Saint Joseph, who is the Guardian of the Universal Church?
- Do I feel challenged by the Holy Father’s call to see “every poor, needy, suffering, or dying person, every stranger, every prisoner, every infirm person” as the living presence of the Christ Child in our midst? When I come face to face with Jesus in the person of a broken brother or sister, am I capable of recognizing him, even when his face is disfigured by suffering and pain, or do I, instead, hasten to turn away? Instead of avoiding the discomfort the Holy Father’s words might provoke in me, how might I grapple with them and allow them to challenge me? How might I be called to respond to this invitation?
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 8 – A Working Father
Excerpt from Patris Corde
An aspect of Saint Joseph that has been emphasized from the time of the first social Encyclical, Pope Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum, is his relation to work. Saint Joseph was a carpenter who earned an honest living to provide for his family. From him, Jesus learned the value, the dignity and the joy of what it means to eat bread that is the fruit of one’s own labour.
In our own day, when employment has once more become a burning social issue, and unemployment at times reaches record levels even in nations that for decades have enjoyed a certain degree of prosperity, there is a renewed need to appreciate the importance of dignified work, of which Saint Joseph is an exemplary patron.
Work is a means of participating in the work of salvation, an opportunity to hasten the coming of the Kingdom, to develop our talents and abilities, and to put them at the service of society and fraternal communion. It becomes an opportunity for the fulfilment not only of oneself, but also of that primary cell of society which is the family. A family without work is particularly vulnerable to difficulties, tensions, estrangement and even break-up. How can we speak of human dignity without working to ensure that everyone is able to earn a decent living?
Working persons, whatever their job may be, are cooperating with God himself, and in some way become creators of the world around us. The crisis of our time, which is economic, social, cultural and spiritual, can serve as a summons for all of us to rediscover the value, the importance and necessity of work for bringing about a new “normal” from which no one is excluded. Saint Joseph’s work reminds us that God himself, in becoming man, did not disdain work. The loss of employment that affects so many of our brothers and sisters, and has increased as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic, should serve as a summons to review our priorities. Let us implore Saint Joseph the Worker to help us find ways to express our firm conviction that no young person, no person at all, no family should be without work!
Meditation
Who wouldn’t have loved to have been a fly on the wall in that humble carpenter shop in Nazareth? What must it have been like for Joseph to teach the Son of God his own trade? We can imagine Saint Joseph taking Jesus’ tiny hands in his, teaching him to feel the grain of the wood, to cut, to fasten, to smooth. Later on, as Jesus grew, we can imagine his admiration as he watched his son begin to master the trade, the pride he felt as he saw him grow into a skilled laborer. We can imagine the conversations they would have had, intertwined with long hours of comfortable silence as the two worked side by side, enjoying the gift of each other’s company.
Alongside Saint Joseph, Jesus learned the lessons of hard work and dedication. As he spent long hours marveling at his father’s capacities as a small boy and learning to imitate them as a young man, he must have felt profound admiration for such a model of honesty, diligence, and fortitude. He felt an immense love and veneration for the man who reflected to him the greatest virtues of true manhood. And Saint Joseph, the master, in turn learned from his apprentice, who he watched being forged in the furnace of manual labor.
In our daily labors, we, too, have the opportunity to work alongside Saint Joseph and the child Jesus. Our home and place of work can become a new Nazareth, where the loving service that characterized that humble workshop can transform our own surroundings into places of encounter with God. Just as Saint Joseph was contributing to salvation history from his lowly carpenter’s bench, where he and Jesus labored, so too our work united to Jesus is called to be a participation in God’s saving plan. How different even the most menial of tasks can become when we are aware that we are working alongside Jesus, who is present in an even more intimate way than in Nazareth, for he lives in our very hearts.
Questions for Reflection
- “Work is a means of participating in the work of salvation, an opportunity to hasten the coming of the Kingdom, to develop our talents and abilities, and to put them at the service of society and fraternal communion.” How consciously do I carry out my work as an expression of my Christian vocation? Could I inadvertently create a type of divide between my Christian life and my professional and/or home life, as if they were not one and the same? How am I using my talents and abilities to extend Christ’s kingdom through my work, in the small and great ways I seek to build others up and contribute to a more Christian culture and society? How might Jesus go about the work that I do? What value would he see in it?
- The Holy Father invites us to allow the circumstances of this pandemic to move us to review our priorities. Especially during moments as trying as these, it can sometimes be difficult to see beyond our own struggles to recognize the cry of others with even greater needs than our own. Bombarded with so much news and sensationalism, we can become desensitized to needs which are perhaps far removed from us and therefore easily forgotten or overlooked. Is there any small way that I might be able to respond to the plight of so many who have lost their jobs and source of sustenance during this time? I might not be able to fix the problem, but could I be called at least to pause and contemplate the needs around me in order to allow God to show me how I might be able to contribute to the solution?
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
Day 9 – A Father in the Shadows
Excerpt from Patris Corde
The Polish writer Jan Dobraczyński, in his book The Shadow of the Father, tells the story of Saint Joseph’s life in the form of a novel. He uses the evocative image of a shadow to define Joseph. In his relationship to Jesus, Joseph was the earthly shadow of the heavenly Father: he watched over him and protected him, never leaving him to go his own way. We can think of Moses’ words to Israel: “In the wilderness… you saw how the Lord your God carried you, just as one carries a child, all the way that you travelled” (Deut 1:31). In a similar way, Joseph acted as a father for his whole life.
[…]
Being a father entails introducing children to life and reality. Not holding them back, being overprotective or possessive, but rather making them capable of deciding for themselves, enjoying freedom and exploring new possibilities. Perhaps for this reason, Joseph is traditionally called a “most chaste” father. That title is not simply a sign of affection, but the summation of an attitude that is the opposite of possessiveness. Chastity is freedom from possessiveness in every sphere of one’s life. Only when love is chaste, is it truly love. A possessive love ultimately becomes dangerous: it imprisons, constricts and makes for misery. God himself loved humanity with a chaste love; he left us free even to go astray and set ourselves against him. The logic of love is always the logic of freedom, and Joseph knew how to love with extraordinary freedom. He never made himself the centre of things. He did not think of himself, but focused instead on the lives of Mary and Jesus.
Joseph found happiness not in mere self-sacrifice but in self-gift. In him, we never see frustration but only trust. His patient silence was the prelude to concrete expressions of trust. Our world today needs fathers. It has no use for tyrants who would domineer others as a means of compensating for their own needs. It rejects those who confuse authority with authoritarianism, service with servility, discussion with oppression, charity with a welfare mentality, power with destruction. Every true vocation is born of the gift of oneself, which is the fruit of mature sacrifice. The priesthood and consecrated life likewise require this kind of maturity. Whatever our vocation, whether to marriage, celibacy or virginity, our gift of self will not come to fulfilment if it stops at sacrifice; were that the case, instead of becoming a sign of the beauty and joy of love, the gift of self would risk being an expression of unhappiness, sadness and frustration.
Meditation
Selflessly giving of himself day after day in the hidden shadows of his carpenter’s shop, Joseph did not seek recognition or recompense. He never held his silent service over Jesus and Mary’s heads, demanding to be valued, while continually reminding the world of all that he did and the little he received in return. His hidden sacrifices did not lead him to bitterness but blossomed into fruits of love, peace, and joy in that little household in Nazareth.
Saint Joseph was a true representation of the Father’s care for his little family, for his love was not self-serving, but rather a true gift. As such, it was given in freedom and received in freedom. It was Joseph’s joy to give of himself to his wife and son, and it was, in turn, their joy to receive his love and love him in return. True love does not create slavery, but joy. It is not possessive, but rather unfettered. It does not bind, but nonetheless unites.
As we draw to the end of our Journey with a Father’s Heart, let us ask God for the grace to love in the freedom and joy we see reflected in Saint Joseph’s life. May others never feel constrained by the sacrifices we undertake for them, but rather empowered by a new-found freedom to love. May we, like Saint Joseph, grow to be so secure in the love of our heavenly Father, that we need not become domineering toward others in an attempt to guarantee the fulfillment of our affective needs. Let us ask God to release us from the chains that bind us to subtle forms of self-serving love, that we might fly in the shadow of his wings, fully free to love.
Questions for Reflection
- “Chastity is freedom from possessiveness in every sphere of one’s life.” How chaste is my love? Are there any subtle forms of possessiveness in my relationships with others? In what areas of my life might God be showing me an opportunity to grow in greater freedom to love?
- “Every true vocation is born of the gift of oneself, which is the fruit of mature sacrifice.” Is my heart more focused on sacrifice or on gift? Could I sometimes be at risk of becoming too focused on the sacrifices required by my vocation and falling into the trap of “unhappiness, sadness, and frustration?” How might I renew the “beauty and joy of love” in the living out of my vocation, discovering the fruitfulness of a love lived in true gift of self?
Prayer
Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer,
Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
To you God entrusted his only Son;
in you Mary placed her trust;
with you Christ became man.
Blessed Joseph, to us too,
show yourself a father
and guide us in the path of life.
Obtain for us grace, mercy, and courage,
and defend us from every evil. Amen.
