Joseph, the carpenter was a pretty remarkable man. For anyone who has had their heart ripped out when they feel like they've been cheated on understands his pain. He loved Mary. She was such a pure and beautiful young woman. He knew her family and understood that she came from a decent home. How in the world, could his sweet little flower come back from visiting her cousin and be pregnant? How could she betray him like that? How could she shame her family? Back then, Mary's "sin" was punishable by death. When he heard her preposterous story, he couldn't take the step to accuse her but would just divorce her and break the betrothal. He probably thought the poor thing was delusional as well as unfaithful. And, I'll bet he really really loved her. Even though he felt betrayed and defeated, he tried to do what was honorable. Then, in a dream, he found out from an angel that her story was true. That it would be ok. That he shouldn't fear taking Mary as a wife. God had this handled and he just had to play his part ... if he said yes. There is rightfully much written about Mary's yes. Joseph's yes, not so much. Mary had a real live vision. Joseph had a dream. And yet he said, yes.
There were a few thoughts that came to my mind when I read Joseph's story. The first thing I really hit on was TRUST. Every good solid relationship must be built on trust. I'm not even talking at this point about the trust between Joseph and Mary. I'm talking about the trust Joseph had with God.That relationship must have been very strong for Joseph to believe in a God who would allow his precious Mary to become pregnant without his help. He had to trust that he, Joseph, was not going to be stoned for defiling her prior to marriage. He had to trust that if he took this woman as his wife that she would not be stoned. He had to trust that this baby she carried in her womb would not be the spawn of some earthly man, but by the Almighty God! That's a lot of trust.
The other thoughts I had were of Joseph's profession. He was a carpenter. I think about how he used his skills to maneuver through this dilemma. First he'd use what he learned from his hammer. Once he decided that he was going to listen to the angel, he used his hammer to pound out all fear. By using his hammer, he was able to piece together all the scattered parts of his heart and rebuild it to house more love than he thought possible.
His planer. There were a lot of uneven parts to the story Mary told him. Things weren't smooth. They had splinters and bumps and knots - all of which had to be made smooth in order to finish his project. That planer slowly but surely stripped away each burdensome flaw in the wood he used to rebuild his heart so that it would be true and strong.
Finally, I think of his measuring instrument. My how that one must have been used. The carpenter's rule is to measure twice, cut once. He had a lot of measuring to do. He had to measure how much time it would take before he was able to fully heal from his hurt and really begin the rebuilding process. He had to measure how much Mary would need his support. Back then, men didn't have a whole heck of a lot to do with birthing processes. I'll bet he never expected to be the one helping her deliver that baby! He had to measure the amount of love he would be able to give to this woman and her child. I believe those things became immeasurable. I don't think God would have chosen Joseph if he didn't have the capacity to provide a life for His son that was filled with unconditional love and trust for his mother. But the measure I think Joseph probably struggled with the most was his ability to measure up to whatever the future would bring. Would he be a good enough father for ... GOD. Would he be a good enough husband for GOD's mother? I wish I could meet Joseph just to understand how great of a man he was and thank him for providing such a wonderful example of fatherhood for my own father.
My father was a huge fan of St. Joseph and looked to him as a role model. Surely there were times when my father wasn't sure what God's plan was for him, times when he wasn't sure he measured up, times when he wasn't sure he was capable of fulfilling his role (I was the last of six kids - six years younger than my next sister, born when my parents were 42 years of age. I think I might have been a challenge.) My father often talked to me about Joseph and how much he admired him. Most men feel like they need to be in control. They need to be the head of the household. They need to be the strong one who ultimately is responsible for the family. What a scary undertaking. It takes a powerful man to become a father. It takes amazing courage and strength. A good father is one who, when things get tough and everyone is frightened or nervous, comes in and calms everyone down. Even if he's afraid, he'll never show it while he's in the daddy role.
My father was an incredibly gentle man. Although we heard about some of his "hell-raising" when he was a young man, I don't think he'd ever hurt a fly. When called to be the disciplinarian, he'd whip off his belt, snap it a few times and beat the crap out the steps - never once touching the kids. Again, being the youngest, I don't know exactly how my older siblings were treated, but I was only spanked once in my life by my father. It was enough. But what I remember vividly when I was a child was when my gentle father grabbed a crow bar and walked down the street to the house where all the motorcycles were to ask the scruffy motorcycle guys to stop roaring up and down the street because he was afraid they were going to hit one of his kids. Actually, that's a little too dramatic. He was working under the hood of his car at the time (my father was an accountant, not a mechanic, but in those days, dads had to multitask) Whatever instrument he had in his hands was what he walked down the street with. He didn't call for back up. He didn't hesitate. He just trusted God and acted. I remember being scared to death. My mother was worried too. She shouldn't have been. I don't know exactly what happened that day at the house down the street. But I do know that when he came back, he calmly went back to working under the hood, the motorcycles stopped roaring up and down the street and the scruffy men down the street called him Sir after that. I guess a powerful father can demand that kind of respect without ever using a weapon. I'll bet Joseph did the same thing.
His little family was going to face some unbelievable criticism. They probably taunted and teased and maybe even plotted to hurt him or Mary because of the situation. I'm betting he picked up whatever carpenter's tool he was using at the time, took a walk down the street and had a talk with them. From that point on, the taunting stopped and they called him Sir. God chose Jesus' earthly father wisely. I'm so glad my father used him as an example of how to be an incredible father. And I'm glad my father as able to be a role model for my children's father. Even if it was only for a little while.
