Being Stewards of God’s Children with Saint Joseph

One of my favorite aspects of parenting, and one of the most difficult things to remember, is that I am simply a steward of God’s children. My wife and I are blessed with two biological children, now ages 15 and 12, and a slew of amazing godchildren (thank you to all who have entrusted us with this incredible joy). We call each of these children “ours” while knowing they do not belong to us, they belong to God.

Today, March 19^th, is the feast day of Saint Joseph, the OG when it comes to children being entrusted to a father. Joseph accomplishes this with the most extraordinary child ever born. He raises Jesus with humility and grace, honors Mary his wife as the god bearer she is, and lives a life of righteousness and obedience to God. Joseph descends from the lineage of King David, giving him a special place within God’s plan of salvation. We don’t really know Joseph’s full story. Extracanonical sources suggest that he was a widower with children from his previous marriage. He is included in the birth narratives found in Matthew and Luke and this odd story about 12-year-old Jesus we read today (Luke 2:41-52), but then he isn’t mentioned again (except passively as the father of Jesus).

The only time we hear about Jesus between the time the holy family returns to Nazareth from Egypt and his baptism by John, is our Gospel reading appointed for today. The twelve-year-old boy Jesus stays behind on a trip to Jerusalem to learn in the temple and causes his parents all kinds of anxiety. It is one of those interesting passages in the Bible for parents because we can so easily place ourselves into the story. As a parent, it greatly distresses my heart to think that at some point, our child might decide to run away (or stay behind). I imagine the panic I would feel, the worry and fear that something terrible happened. I also imagine the mixture of anger and relief I might feel upon finding our child.

Mary and Joseph move from their worry and fear over Jesus’ disappearance, to relief upon finding him in the temple. Mary asks the question any parent would ask, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.” And Jesus gives kind of a smart-alecky response, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

It seems that Joseph and Mary do not understand what Jesus means. This is one moment when I imagine Joseph was both hurt and reminded that he was a steward of God’s only son. It might be the first time that people were perplexed by something that Jesus said, but this is just a preview of what is to come.

I think for most of us there is at least one thing Jesus says during his ministry that we do not understand. I might venture to guess that some of us follow Jesus even though we have lots of questions about things that he said; we might even be conflicted about how we are to follow him. What are we to do with the words he said that don’t make sense to us?

Today we stand alongside Mary and Joseph—at times with our jaws hanging open in shock at Jesus’ words and action, at times just confused by what he is saying to us. We stand alongside Mary and Joseph and treasure all these things, all of Jesus’ words and his actions, in our hearts. We may not always understand, but we make his words and actions a treasure to us. More valuable than monetary wealth, more costly to us than material goods, Jesus’ words to us are priceless.

Today we give thanks for Mary and for Joseph, caretakers of the son of God. Sometimes perplexed by his words, and frustrated as parents, they offer us examples of humility, patience, and hope. May we be so bold as to read, learn, study, inwardly digest, and hold on to those treasured words of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. And when they are confusing, difficult or challenging, may we all the more remember what a treasure they are on continue to ponder them in our hearts. Today we especially give thanks for Joseph and his example reminding each of us that we are merely caretakers for the children entrusted to us.