CHAPTER VII.
ST. Joseph's Return To Nazareth.
ST. Joseph's Return To Nazareth.
'Defuncto autem Herode, ecoe angelus Domini apparuit in somnis Joseph in Egypto ; deoens: Surge, et accipe puerum et matrem ejus, et vade in terram Israel: defuncti sunt enim enim qui quserebant animam pueri.'
All things have an end. The sojourn in Egypt was over; for Herod was dead In Egypt, as in Nazareth and Bethlehem, the Angel of God waited on Joseph. God directed him from heaven when supernatural aid was necessary, and in one place as well as another. So it is now, although no angel is sent, as to Joseph in his sleep; for the Holy Spirit is poured out on all flesh, and each has light enough to guide him on his road to the heavenly Canaan. The Israelites had been led out of Egypt in defiance of the strength of Pharaoh; the Holy Family, under a new dispensation, left it in silence and obscurity. But the journey was difficult; the Holy Child was too old to be carried in the arms of His parents, and too young to wait far. St. Bonaventure says He suffered cold, and hunger, and weariness. How often did He He down exhausted on the road! And yet Joseph must be the guide and director of this painful journey. He bore the responsibility, he struggled with the difficulties; he heard on the road that Archelaus reigned instead of Herod. Perhaps he heard then, for the first time, of the Massacre of the Innocents, and the amount of danger from which the Holy Child had been delivered. It is only said that he feared to go into Judsea; and being again warned in his sleep by an angel, he turned aside to the region of Galilee, and dwelt in Nazareth, and so fulfilled another prophecy: 'He shall be called a Nazarene.'
How very little can we judge, by what we know, of what will best accomplish the designs of God! It seemed so fitting that He who had been promised for so many ages to the tribe of Judah should dwell among them; that He who was to restore the kingdom to Israel should dwell among the few who had remained faithful to their king and their Temple, and dwelt near Jerusalem, which was and is the city of the people of God; for there is a spiritual Jerusalem, of which that of David was a type. But Joseph was commanded by an angel; so that no doubt remained as to the will of God, to return to Nazareth, the land of Zabulon and the land of Napthali, Galilee of the Gentiles; for Isaiah says the people who dwelt in darkness have seen a great light, and on those who dwelt in darkness and in the shadow of death, on them has the light shined. Behold the mystery of the Gentiles being admitted with the Jews into the new covenant! It had been prophesied, but the Hebrews understood it not, and the restoration of the kingdom to Judah remained a difficulty with the Apostles themselves, just before our Lord's ascension and after it, until Peter baptised the centurion.
After all that had happened of glory and persecution, of mystery and revelation, Joseph must return to ordinary life, to his trade, carried on in his native town among his kinsfolk and neighbours, who were ignorant and profoundly unsuspicious that there was anything remarkable in the Holy Family. 'Is not this the carpenter?' they said afterwards; 'filiusMarise,frater Jacobi, et Joseph, et Judse, et Simonis? Nonne et sorores ejus hie nobiscum sunt V (Marc, vi 3.)
It was quite true; but there were greater things than these—so great that we must receive the Evangelist's few words on the subject of meditation, and learn from the Saints their import.
'Puer autem crescebat'—for, as St. Augustine says, God did not do all by miracle lest' dum omnia mirabiliter fecit, delecet quod misericorditer fecit.' Therefore Joseph had to guard the feeble steps of the Holy Child, and aided Mary in teaching all that belonged to Him as man. He who had given the first lesson of humility by keeping silence when an Infant in the manger, now by degrees utters from His lips the words which will give glory to God on high, and on earth peace to men of good will. Let us not fear to watch with Joseph His mysterious weakness; it is the mystery of the two natures of our Lord, which is so great that it has separated from the Church many who dared to question it. Eather let us glory in the perfection of His weakness, for it is the greatest, perhaps, of all the miracles in the Eedemption; so that a saint might well say there is only one thing wonderful—the Incarnation.
'Puer crescehat'—so thoroughly did the childhood of our Blessed Lord resemble that of other children, that the Jews remarked no difference. The paternal care of Joseph must also have resembled that of fathers, for it is God who has poured into the hearts of all fathers such a wise and watchful care, such a brave and tender love, such unwearied eftorts to make their sons men as perfect as themselves. If we add to this natural gift of paternal instinct all the amount of what Joseph had received by grace and by inspiration, we shall approach, though we cannot fathom, the depth, height, and extent of love, the awe and increasing wonder, and the joy, beyond even his own knowledge, which filled the heart of Joseph as he saw the Son of Man increase in all that belonged to Him as man. How wonderful is the concealment of the mystery! Not one among his brothers, the sons of the sister of Mary, believed that He was the Christ. 'Neque enim fratres ejus credebant in eo' (John vii. 5). Not even the suspicious Pharisees and scoffing Sadducees thought that He had Another, and not Joseph, for His Father; and they brought it afterwards as an evidence against His being Messiah.
We know what is the training of a Christian child to whom the grace of God has been given by baptism; we know what it is to cherish the supernatural virtues of meekness and humility, obedience and charity; we know what it is to join the little hands in prayer, and teach the lips to utter holy words, and guide the steps to the altar of God; and we know that this is education. Not the fierce struggle with passions which ought to have been met when they first troubled the baptismal grace of childhood; not the stimulus to intellectual labours, and the painful excitement of emulation for 'the battle of the world;' but to stand by while the guileless experience of childhood is gained; while the eyes still turn for direction to the parent, and the hands loosen their grasp of the beloved toy in slumber; to stand by while the deep thought is not spoken by the lisping tongue, but lies deep in the intelligent eyes, and while the child yet beholds the world without prejudice and without desire. If earthly parents thus watch over their children with a sense of their own unfitness to guide these movements of baptismal grace, with what awe, mingled with admiration, must the Holy Child have been adored by Joseph and Mary—he the perfection of a father, and she full of grace!
'Kemansit puer Jesus in Jerusalem, et non cognoverunt parentes ejus.'
In considering the great mystery of the loss of Christ, the same difficulty again presents itself. As to Joseph, we do not know how much he was inspired and how much was natural, and the safest course seems to take only the external actions and the persons, and to judge of what was interior by what passes in the minds of other saints and holy persons, according to their own testimony and example, leaving in the hands of God the secrets of His inspiration.
The infancy of our Lord had been afflicted by poverty and persecution, but the peace of the Holy Family had never been disturbed, for nothing external could interrupt the exercise of all that was good, in the natural and supernatural gifts bestowed on Joseph and on Mary; and no human calculation may attain their amount, when they were received by both with an entire correspondence; for Mary was full of grace, and Joseph was just; and, as has been said, in the holy Scriptures the word 'just,' according to St. Alphonso, signifies all perfection. And yet this peace must be broken—the sword must not only pierce the heart of Mary but of Joseph. Our Lord said He came to give peace, but not as the world gives peace, with persecutions. The way of the Cross is the only way to heaven. Sorrow here, and joy hereafter. There must be sorrow even at Nazareth; the pure gold must be refined in the fire, and the myrrh crashed that it may give out its perfume. The treasure cannot be guarded without anxiety; not the anxiety of faithless men, but the anxiety of those who fear to lose the gift of God.
Yet one trial seemed improbable; the very one allotted to them seemed the most unlikely—that they should lose sight of Him who was their All, and that He should escape from them. Such innocence and retirement, guarded by poverty, seemed secure from such a calamity, which would seem to belong rather to those who are agitated by strange adventures and living in perils. Yet it occurred to Joseph in the course of his duties; and among these it was the performance of the duty of going up every year to worship at Jerusalem, which was enjoined by the law on every male. He took the Child Jesus with him when He was twelve years old. 'Ibant parentes ejus per omnes annos in Jerusalem in die solemni Paschae;' and also, as the commentary says, on the two other feasts on which all males were obliged by the law of Moses to pay their vows in the Temple. 'Et cum factus esset annorum duodecim, ascendentibus illTM Jerusalem, secundum consuetudinem diei festi. Eemansit puer Jesus in Jerusalem, et non cognoverunt parentes ejus.'
This was quite probable; for in these holy pilgrimages it was customary for the men and women to form separate companies, and to perform pious exercises on the way. Jesus at His tender age might be in either of these companies, and tradition tells us that His presence brought with it a divine sweetness and joy, and that his kinsfolk and acquaintance, though they knew not what that Presence was, yet were delighted to possess it. All approached with awe the presence of Almighty God in the sanctuary. This Presence was as powerful to attract, yet its sweetness took away fear. But that Presence, dear beyond all to Joseph and Mary, was lost. It is not possible for us to imagine the intensity of pain at the first suspicion of the loss, and the agony when the loss became a certainty. While it was yet possible that He might be found with His kinsfolk the pang was harassing, but it was bearable, and hope often cast out fear by the thought that the Divine Presence is not always sensible, and that the joy of seeing God continually is reserved for heaven. But as Joseph searched, he became more convinced that this was an unwonted absence; and then arose an interior trial, which has occurred to many saints, thus: his humility was alarmed; he knew that he was unworthy of the high office intrusted to him, and he feared that this was a chastisement for some negligence. The consciousness of his high office came on him as it had never done before. He was the director of the Holy Family, and had he displeased the heavenly visitor, or, most terrible of all suspicions, had he offended God Himself, who had chosen him for his office, by an unworthy fulfilment of it 1 Had he been occupied by his labour, and had he not enough contemplated the Holy Child while he was increasing in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man? Could he have been distracted, or faint-hearted, or impatient, and had the Heavenly Child left him in deserved displeasure 1 The fear of having offended God is unbearable, and those who love Him are not safe from it; even the Psalmist cried, 'Cleanse Thou me from my secret faults'' and St. Paul, though his conscience did not accuse him, yet knew not whether he was worthy of love or hatred. The humility of Joseph had increased with his sanctity, and though his conscience did not reproach him, yet he was ready to believe that God had found him unfit for his office, and had taken it away for ever. But his fear was without trouble—his bitterness was in peace. That profound submission to God, which is the characteristic of the saints, held the centre of his soul, and though all else was overwhelmed with anguish, he ceased not to abandon himself to God, whose mercy is equal to His justice. 'Though He slay me,' said Job, 'yet will I trust in Him.' His consciousness recurred ever to the dreadful truth. He, the depositor of the most tremendous of secrets, he had lost his sacred charge, the Desire of all nations, the Hope of Israel. Which way could he turn under such a weight of suffering 1 Who could share or console his grief 1 Even Mary herself could only grieve with him, but not like him, for his was the grief of responsibility. Never in all the trials of man could there be so great or soul-subduing a sorrow. Mary increased rather than assuaged his grief. He saw her sorrow; perhaps he was the cause of it; and he plunged himself still deeper in annihilation at the thought of his own unworthiness. Still he does not lose courage or sink into despair. St. Francis says true humility is accompanied with generosity; and he uses every means to recover what he has lost, if it be God's will. He seeks Him sorrowing, with tears which purify his holy soul, and anguish which refines it in the crucible, of suffering.
Joseph is the model of souls who lose Jesus, for all lose him at times; some by mortal sin, and these must weep tears of bitterness till they find Him in the temple at the feet of the priest in the tribunal of penance. And pious souls lose Him in prayer, and they become dry and distracted in reading, and it brings no light nor comfort; holy Communion does not seem to restore Him.
It is related by Butler that an Abbot of Eievaux, in a sermon on losing the Holy Child, says that His behaviour to His parents is the same which leads Him to withdraw Himself for a time from us, that we may seek Him the more earnestly. Our Lord has many ways of escaping us, as we read in spiritual books. Sometimes He withdraws, not grace itself, but some special graces, or the consciousness of them. He escapes when He wills. His Spirit comes and goes like the wind, and none knows whence it comes nor whither it goes. The sea is motionless till the wind arises, so is the soul helpless without grace. He goes when He will through the midst of those who would lay hold of Him. He was with them, but He is gone, they know not how; they are in darkness and trouble, and they know no more. But Joseph teaches them what to do. We must humble ourselves like him; we must acknowledge that we deserve it; and this generously, and not in proud despondency.
It is Mary who describes his grief and his exertions. 'Pater et ego dolentes quasrebamus te.' Such are the heroic souls who are called to follow Christ. Those of less faith and less humility and love would have despaired, or died of grief. If their souls had contemplated themselves, not Him, the self-consciousness must have been fatal. Those who love less grieve for themselves; but they loved Him only, and grieved only for Him, and He made their grief bearable, for He whom they sought was watching over them, and supported them, though they knew not He was there.
'Invenerunt eum in Temple'
It was in the fulfilment of a religious duty that the trial had come; and it was in the temple that the trial was removed: so it was with St. Iranus, when in his devotion he feared for his salvation, and recovered his peace before an image of our Lady. But who can comprehend the joy of Joseph when he found the Child, and knew that He had not remained behind them in displeasure? We can only guess it by the joy of those ordinary men who are freed from the fear of having displeased God. So much were they emboldened by their holy ecstasy, that Mary dared to question Him. 'Fili quid fecesti nobis? Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.' 0, mystery of divine love, that the soul whose life hangs on the breath of God should take upon her, like Abraham, to plead with God, and that He should answer her, 'How is it that ye sought Me V as He answered the complaint of His disciples, 'It is good for you that I go away.'
Joseph had in one sense suffered more than Mary at the loss of Jesus,—' Iristabatur ab humilitate,'—because he thought himself unworthy of having such a treasure confided to him; and in the same sense his joy must have been far greater, because he had feared.
