We celebrate Saint Joseph today because, in
his story, we see our story.
At first sight, there seems to be little material for a meditation on Joseph, for what do we know of him, apart from his name and a few events that occurred in Our Lord’s childhood? He is remembered for his attention to the angelic voices that spoke in his sleep, for his prompt and generous obedience to what was demanded of him, for his manual labor in one of the most modest and fatiguing occupations of his day (which earned Jesus the reputation of being “the son of the carpenter”), and for his care of Mary and Jesus in Nazareth. There is practically nothing else known of him, so it might well be said that he lived an unknown life, the life of a simple artisan, with no sign of personal greatness.
As is often pointed out, the Gospel does not record a single word from him; his language is silence. In considering Saint Joseph as a “man of silence,” Pope Francis once said: “The Gospels report none of his spoken words, yet they present Joseph as a model of attentive hearing of God’s word and acting upon it. Indeed, Joseph’s silence was the sign of a contemplative heart, confirming Saint Augustine’s observation that, ‘when the word of God increases, human words fail’ (Sermon 288).”
For ourselves, we see in the Gospel portrait of Saint Joseph how true it is that depth of heart grows with silence, with silence that is not mutism but leaves space for wisdom, reflection, and the Holy Spirit. That is essential to our life as Cistercian monks. We can learn from Joseph to cultivate this kind of silence, namely, that space of interiority in our daily lives in which we give the Spirit the opportunity to regenerate us, to console us, to correct us. We hear a lot about “silence” and count it among the principal monastic values of our Order. According to our Constitutions: “Silence assures solitude for the monk in community. It fosters mindfulness of God and fraternal communion. It opens the mind to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, and favors attentiveness of heart and solitary prayer to God.”
But of course, we must do more than
idealize the “silent Joseph.” We must do more than pay lip service to silence,
or simply “observe” the practice of silence as the Rule of St. Benedict and our
Constitutions prescribe. We need to intentionally
cultivate spaces for silence in which another Word can emerge, that is, Jesus,
the Word—we need to cultivate spaces for silence in which “the ears of our
heart” can listen to the Holy Spirit who dwells within us. Often it is not easy
to recognize that Voice among the thousand voices of worries, temptations,
desires, and hopes that also dwell within us. The French philosopher Blaise
Pascal observed in his Pensées that
“much human unhappiness arises from one single fact: that human beings cannot
stay quietly in their own chamber.” Though not easy, fostering contemplative
silence is a sure path to authentic self-knowledge and spiritual growth, which
in turn is expressed in effective charity and praise of God, and gives birth to
gratitude. The precondition for this, however, is humility.
St. Joseph’s quiet humility can inspire each one of us to make room in our hearts for Christ, and thus to discern the Father’s will and deepest desire for our lives. The patron of our monastery is an icon of attentive and responsive silence. Following his example in all of its ordinariness and obscurity, we can rediscover (with no drama) the value of words that edify, encourage, console, and support—and decisions that are respectful, caring, and loving towards all those whom God in his Providence puts into our lives.
Saint Joseph was the “type” of the message of that Gospel Jesus was to announce once he left the little workshop at Nazareth and began his mission as prophet and teacher. Specifically, Saint Joseph is the model of those humble ones whom Christianity raises to great destinies, and he is the proof that in order to be a good and genuine follower of Christ there is no need to do “great things”; it is enough to have the common, simple, human virtues that are authentic in supporting a life of supernatural faith and trust in God, and compassionate love for one another. Like Abraham before him, Saint Joseph “believed, hoping against hope.” He put his trust in God’s promises and did everything that God asked him to do, with courage and humility. He lived virtually unknown, like so many of us. The life of Saint Joseph reminds us that those who appear hidden or in the shadows today can play an incalculable role in salvation history.
What does he mean for our troubled times? The Gospel this morning recounts how the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and directed him to make the most important decision of his life. Following the tradition of the great man who is the Joseph of Genesis, who saved his people in Egypt, Saint Joseph also could make good come from what seemed bad. He lived in the silence of discernment and faithfulness, and so became a witness to the meaning of his name—“God will increase, add.” There is always more with God, and Joseph’s action brought us “more,” moving the revelation of the Incarnation forward. He was always a willing participant in the action of God, even when he did not understand what it was all about. The same can be true of each one of us.
Finally, the most important detail we have about Joseph is not that he was a dreamer; it was that Joseph was a righteous man, a just man. A just person puts his or her relationship with God before all else in life and cares for people as God would care for them. In the Scriptures, someone who is “just” reflects God’s compassion. In this respect, we could say that Joseph’s righteousness gave way to God’s righteousness. He believed what an angel told him in a dream, and out of compassion he took Mary home with him to be his wife. That simple, that profound.
On this feast day of our abbey, dedicated to Our Lady of Saint Joseph, let us believe with renewed conviction that we are put on this earth and called to this community for a reason. We are loved by God and wanted by God. And he gives each of us a role in building up his family on earth — beginning with this monastic community, but that also means his Church and his kingdom. We carry out our hidden mission, just as Joseph did, by serving Jesus (and one another) in the ordinary work of our everyday lives and in contemplative hearts that let his Word emerge anew. In his story, we see our story.
Fragment of a wooden carving of Saint Joseph in one of the corners of the Abbey. This morning's homily by Father Dominic.
