Joseph, Our Guiding Light
March 20, 2023 | Katie Painter TD ‘23
image description: father holding child
In the Catholic tradition, March 20 marks the Solemnity of St. Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. On this day, we commemorate the steadfast father of the child Jesus, the virtuous husband “unwilling to expose [Mary] to shame.” ( Mth 1:19) We remember his humble diligence, his quiet strength, his unswerving devotion to God and family. As each of us walks our own desert this Lent, waiting for the golden warmth of the Resurrection and the first gentle breaths of spring, I like to think that the example of St. Joseph offers a guiding light by which to orient our every footstep towards the kingdom of Heaven.
St. Joseph touched my heart in a particular way during 2021, a year which was devoted especially to him by Pope Francis. As fear and uncertainty surged around the globe amidst the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, my own interior life felt similarly unsettled. On one hand, the year brought many blessings. I fell in love with Ancient Greek, started attending more daily Masses, and declared a second major in Religious Studies. I began praying more often and my relationship with God blossomed in ways I could not have imagined. And yet I remember sitting up late on my window seat in TD, sometimes with eyes full of tears, listening to music and wondering what good I could ever hope to accomplish in a world riddled with so much pain and sorrow. I felt myself watching helplessly from a distance as despair weighed on loved ones grappling with hardship and loss. What could any of us do in the face of it all?
One of those lonely late nights, a text message from my grandma Ann Reynolds (known affectionately to all as “Grannie Annie”) interrupted my thoughts with a glimmer of much-needed wisdom. Saw this and thought of you!” her sunny text message read. She had sent me the excerpt below from Charles de Foucauld (1858-1916), a French priest and hermit recently canonized in 2022. Foucauld imagined Jesus describing his life before ministry. As I read over the passage, it crossed my mind that it was really a passage as much about Joseph as Jesus. After all, it was Joseph who would have taught Jesus how to work long hours in the carpentry shop, Joseph who would have stood by Jesus’ side as he spoke his first words, Joseph who lived the way of life which Jesus went on to preach in his public ministry. I smiled, holding a newfound spark of hope in my chest as I ran my eyes over these words:
“What was the meaning of that part of my life? I led it for your instruction. I instructed you continuously for thirty years, not in words, but by my silence and example. What was it I was teaching you? I was teaching you primarily that it is possible to do good to men—great good, infinite good, divine good—without using words, without preaching, without fuss, but by silence and by giving them a good example. What kind of example? The example of devotion of duty toward God lovingly fulfilled, and goodness toward all men, loving kindness to those about one, and domestic duties fulfilled in holiness.... I was teaching you to live by the labor of your own hands, so as to be a burden to no one and to have something to give to the poor. And I was giving this way of life an incomparable beauty—the beauty of being a copy of mine.” [1]
This radical simplicity, gentle care for every corner of creation (no matter how small), thoughtful attention to slow, unassuming, honest labor—all of these things defined the life my Grannie Annie led from her little house in the woods, the life Jesus led in perfect holiness with Mary and Joseph as his first role models. As I struggled to make sense of my vocation that night, Foucauld’s words reminded me to believe in the power of “doing small things with great love,” [2] to recognize the beauty and dignity of building one brick onto the kingdom of heaven on Earth, piece by piece, step by step, in every moment of every day. Though I still feel lost from time to time amidst the cares of our world, it comforts me to know that St. Joseph and his Holy Family have already shown us the way, ushering us steadfastly through the Lenten seasons of life and beyond.
Much has happened since that night of consolation, both in my own life and in the wider world. Countless people are still suffering from far more evils than one person’s labor could ever alleviate. My senior year of college has opened up new horizons and possibilities, but also presented some heartbreak. I have realized that I will soon spread my wings beyond Yale. I have confronted rejection and critique from peers and professors and graduate schools alike. Certain dreams have changed shape or faded into the distance. I have formulated plans only to see them rearranged or discarded altogether. Some of my relationships have turned down paths I never could have wanted or expected. And yet new doors are always opening. One way or another, I am finding my way into adulthood, seeking to build a life of prayer, study, service and love in whatever way I can - which, I can now say with some measure of certainty, is all that matters.
Yes, as I walk through this Lenten season with the example of St. Joseph imprinted on my mind, I have come to believe that his way truly does serve as its own reward, conferring a distinctive kind of peace which strengthens our resolve, unlocks our purest and most authentic selves, and brings us ever closer to God. He offers us a model in all seasons of life, but perhaps especially during Lent. We might struggle to maintain our Lenten commitments. We might be tempted to question the real worth of preparing meatless meals, undertaking small penances, or slipping coins into rice bowls for the needy. Our efforts can feel futile in the grand scheme of things. To help us out of this mindset, however, Joseph offers his example of steadfast devotion to each and every task at hand. He directs us to become secure in the knowledge that all labors undertaken with a spirit of love, no matter how small, will contribute some spark of goodness into the world and increase our holiness. He reminds us that our work glorifies God because God gave us the capacity to do work and do it well. This Lent, dear reader, may we find joy in fulfilling our duties towards God, self and others. May we delight in each and every labor of love that we undertake as exemplified for us by the example of St. Joseph the Worker.
References:
Charles de Foucauld
St Therese of Lisieux, Story of a Soul
This piece is a part of a series for Lent 2023. Read more at https://www.yalelogos.com/lent2023