One of the most striking things for me about this... that there is this dramatic contrast between public spectacle and...

advertisement
One of the most striking things for me about this season of Advent and Christmas is
that there is this dramatic contrast between public spectacle and private experience.
On the one hand, we are immersed in all sorts of social signs that proclaim we are in
a special time: the Christmas music, the appearances of the cribs, the wreaths and
Christmas trees. On the other hand, I think all of us are also absorbed by very
private thoughts: memories of when we were children and how special the season
was; our recollections of spending the holidays with loved ones many of whom are
perhaps no longer with us; of the special loneliness we felt on those occasions we
could not be with our families at this time of year. And most importantly that
private question, As the world waits for and celebrates its Saviour, what does Jesus’s
coming mean for me individually?
I think of this contrast between public spectacle and private thoughts because of
our readings and especially in reflecting upon St. Joseph whom I must confess I
almost never consider but this week I did. This Gospel reading is one of the few
times he ever appears in the Scripture. He is not at the wedding feast of Cana; he is
not present at any event in Jesus’s adult ministry; he is not at the Cross, nor at the
Resurrection. He is practically invisible in the Gospels and often forgotten, even in
Catholic memory: the first church dedicated to him was established only in the 12th
Century and I don’t have the impression that there are a great many churches
named after him. Even the feast of St. Joseph the Worker was only established in
1955 and that was to counter the May Day observances of socialists and
communists. He is considered the patron of a happy death because Christians have
imagined that when he died, Mary and Jesus were present. But that is in the realm
of imagination and legend.
And yet, maybe Joseph is the perfect Saint for this season because he brings
together the public and the private: he is without doubt an essential actor in God’s
greatest historical drama: although he must have often said to himself while Mary
was pregnant, “this just does not make sense.”, he stays with her and takes Jesus as
his Son. At the same time, even though he is a privileged participant in this great
event of God’s incarnation, Joseph quickly slips back into the quiet, private life
where he is not paid much attention. And isn’t this a model for how we experience
this Season. We have waited for the Messiah, God has become man, but not much
attention will be paid to your and my personal welcoming of and belief in that
miracle. We know God has a purpose for each of us but we are not sure what it is.
Still there is something more about St. Joseph that may be important for us: the
Church proclaims him the patron of the new world, of our American worlds and that
is very symbolically fitting, isn’t it? In living with Jesus and Mary, Joseph has seen a
new world and a new age that we celebrate this time of year. And that is our
situation as followers of Jesus: we may be externally indistinguishable from the
crowds of Christmas shoppers who surround us and even at times we may have said
to ourselves about God’s coming to us as a child, “this just doesn’t make any sense.”
But at the same time we know that we have seen and are patrons of a new age and a
new world. And that we have been called to live our lives for others in the same way
that God’s coming to us in Jesus was: as a GIFT. Of Love.
And perhaps this season invites us to give a very special gift of love. The
proclamation of God’s incarnation has not always been experienced as a joy to the
world, as a special Holy Night. Here I think of our Jewish brothers and sisters, of
course, who were often told in our Christmas celebrations that God is no longer with
them; that with the nativity God is now only with us Christians. We know the
suffering that we Christians brought to the Jews as a result of this false belief, as if
God’s presence is so limited that God can only be Emmanuel, can only be with one
people and not others at the same time. We Catholics can be particularly grateful
that the last fifty years have seen so much improvement in the relationship between
Jews and Christians. And we should celebrate that progress in a special way during
this season because we have been liberated from having to look down upon others
while we rejoice in God’s dwelling with us. A number of years ago the writer
Thomas Cahill published a book entitled THE GIFTS OF THE JEWS which tells of all
the ways that our spiritual world is a Jewish creation. He concludes his book saying
this: “We can hardly get up in the morning or cross the street without being Jewish.
We dream Jewish dreams and hope Jewish hopes. Most of our best words, in fact—
new, adventure, surprise; unique, individual, person, vocation; time, history, future;
freedom, progress, spirit; faith, hope, justice—[these]are the gifts of the Jews.” In
this season we recall their greatest gift of all: how a Jewish Mary and a Jewish Joseph
cooperated with God in giving us the gift of a Jewish Jesus. Son of God.
James Bernauer, S.J.
December 21, 2013
Download