Ite ad Joseph
Then we come to Joseph, as bidden.
A word about him, another chosen one.
I should like to state quite firmly
that he would not have had the time
to stand about holding lilies,
dressed in a green and brown robe.
He was most probably not old and balding,
but definitely good and conscientious
at his job; great with lathe, saw and suchlike.
He loved Mary; the real Mary, before statues.
After all, he was betrothed to her;
they were preparing for life together.
And then this sudden inconceivable ‘I’ve something
to tell you’ and the fuller version to himself from
an Angel, no less. Joseph must have been shattered,
together with all his plans for the future, into a turmoil of
confusion; maybe angry even at first.
Mary seemed so sure; sticking to her story: ‘An Angel spoke to me;
gave me a request from God’. How could she not say ‘Yes’?
She even managed to be serene and absolutely certain.
But a baby! To make sense of that – How?
Only through Mary’s steady love of him; her evident purity,
her innocence. She became his rock to cling to, but he was her
anchor; her protector in danger; faithful husband
and a loving father to the Father’s only Son.