At this time of year, the spotlight rightly shines on Mary.
Wives and mothers can easily relate to her story, especially to the
feeling of having a tiny, beautiful, heaven-scented newborn and to the
conviction that they would readily lay down their very lives for him or her. Mary also had something else I can relate to
-- or someone else, I should say: Joseph! As my husband often laments, what
about Joseph?
Popular magazines,
“chick-lit” novels, and television shows often paint men (fathers in particular)
as clueless, in dire need of being improved upon or changed, and only good for handing
over cash or credit cards. I have been
blessed in real life, however, as God gifted me with an awesome father and then
with a wonderful husband and subsequent father-in-law. I often cite my hubby as being a saint 95% of the
time. But, I’m guilty of still complaining
about the other 5% which mostly is comprised of absent mindedness, zero appreciation
for The Notebook and what I believe
to be feigned incompetence in loading the dishwasher. I do try very hard to be his helpmate and
number one cheerleader, but even so, he often and willingly takes a backseat to
everything that goes on in the life our little family.
Similarly, Good St. Joseph, unfortunately, seems to fade
into the background of the Holy Family. We hear year
after year about Mary’s, “Yes” to the Angel Gabriel, but what about Joseph’s
answers? If we take a close look at Joseph, there is much to learn from his trust,
patience, and whole-hearted submission to God’s plan for him. Joseph -- the quintessential “strong, silent type”
-- does not speak at all in the Gospels.
I would have to argue with my hubby that Joseph doesn’t need us to talk
about him; he wouldn’t care for all the hoopla.
But, the Gospel of Matthew does tell us a lot about Joseph and just how much he did indeed submit to.
Joseph receives multiple angelic messages
telling him to accept this, do that, go here, now go there, now do this. He follows all of these instructions, without
fail and without question. He follows
through with God’s plan for him often under dire circumstances and at times
completely against everything he had come to know thus far in his lifetime. Joseph seems satisfied with being told just
one step to take, and then simply trusting that he’d be told the next one in
due time. In the meantime, he fulfills
his duty of loving husband and father, all the while raising the Savior of the World
without complaint, well none that were documented apparently. He just does the right thing and he’s fine with it.
Most, if not all,
of the meaningful men in our lives are much like Joseph. We frazzled, stressed out, perfection–seeking,
what’s next on the to-do list, wives and mothers could learn a lot from the St.
Joseph’s in our midst. Amid the secular Christmas craziness, I ask
the Lord for the faith and patience of Joseph (or my husband, or my Dad, or my other Dad). To have just a bit of Joseph’s ability to
take on one task and to wait patiently for the next one (and the next one)
would ease my mind not only at Christmas, but all year round. If I had the ability to filter out the clutter
and patiently wait for instruction – would I listen to it? Would I say yes to
whatever was asked of me?
I often pray to be more like Mary; perhaps I need to
start praying to be more like Joseph as well.
Confession! Oh boy, the very mention of the Sacrament of
Confession spurs heated debate among friends and family, Catholics,
non-Catholics, whomever. Personally, I was never really a big fan. It definitely needed a new name. Torture
chamber? Hot seat? The confessionals of my youth were of the
dark wooden box variety and the Act of Contrition was definitely not taped to
the wall inside. I used to write it on my hand for fear that Father Meenan
would hear any paper crinkling. Looking back with my now 20/20 vision, Father
Meenan hardly cared about that. He was most
likely just happy I was there. I’ve heard more than a few of our good priests
remark how Confession is their most favorite Sacrament to celebrate. Seems like loads of pressure to me, standing
in the place of Christ, one on one, heart to heart. But, if you consider the
task at hand at the moment of Confession, to hand out mercy and forgiveness to
all who come and ask with a contrite heart…what an awesome job!
The confessional
offers time and space for good shepherds to bring about peace of mind, offer
advice or perhaps some direction. I’m
sure they hear their fair share of tears being shed; maybe share a muffled
laugh through the screen, but most of all they impart His endless and all
consuming tender love and infinite mercy upon us. A lot happens in that little
box sometimes with lots of words, sometimes with the bare minimum. Either way,
we little sheep hurry back to the flock completely reconciled with our Lord.
Why would we ever hesitate to go and get that whenever possible?
Since Sr. MM began
her education at HGA, my own “adult” spiritual formation has been an awesome
and unexpected side effect, even if I feel like a little child in a classroom
most of the time. I didn’t have the benefit of a Catholic education and my CCD
classes left me woefully unprepared for a spiritually mature Catholic
adulthood, but I’m learning at a rapid pace now. I’m like one of those adult
college students, the annoying one who asks a question a minute before class is
over and $1 beer night is about to start.
I want to know
everything about the Church. I want to experience everything again, catch up on
what I missed out on and make up for time lost while I was a Christmas/Easter
Catholic. I’ve tossed out what used to be my list of items that I would pick
and chose from as far as what I believed or practiced as a Catholic. I’m all
in.
Confession has
been a highlight of my rejuvenated faith. I have found that fighting the
gentle, but persistent internal nudging to go to confession was futile.
Apparently it’s true - the heart wants what the heart wants. For a very long
time, my heart was full with love, marriage, children and seemingly everything
I needed, save one thing – the One who gave it all to me. I was frolicking
along in my own personal fairy tale and neglecting my role in this heavenly
deal. I had conditions to adhere to and promises to uphold to make my part in
it at least somewhat comparable with what I had so generously been blessed
with. I was going to Mass, but was avoiding confession. Why? It’s darn scary. It sounds easy enough, wait
in line (or make an appointment!) confess my sins in number and kind, receive
absolution and resolve to sin no more. How does that work when you get cut off
trying to leave the parking lot and, “@#$@#!”
Do I turn around and go right back in?
Usually,
confession is a hot topic during Lent, but I find the upcoming Holiday season
(that seems to begin earlier and earlier every year) to be a little less
intimidating as far as mustering up the courage to actually go. We begin with
thanksgiving and then prepare for a joyous event and what better inspiration
than a new tiny baby to make you want to make the world a better place starting
with your own little soul.
So as the season
gets hastily underway and your to-do list is giving you hives, remember the one
thing that you could do to approach the season at peace…be not afraid and go to
confession! This is not the confession
of your childhood or of the stories you’ve heard with priests who scold and
nuns outside the door pointing you toward your penance seat. Our kids do it –
we can do it. Of course their sins (hopefully) are very tiny and we may feel
that ours are far too big or, worse, embarrassing. But, no matter how big or
small, or embarrassing – go. Get rid of it all. Make this the one present you
wrap up, however messy, and hand it over to your Lord and let him carry it away
from you. He’s happy to do so and is just so happy to see (or hear) you. I
promise you’ll feel fantastic when you are through… until you try to leave the
parking lot.
