Family is a many layered and complex social institution. Whether we call a family functional or dysfunctional it lives and survives with its joys, sorrows, tensions, fears, conflicts and secrets. Most families come with at least one ‘black sheep’ who tests the patience and resolve of loved ones; one ‘social butterfly’ who flits gayly from place to place without ever settling or taking responsibility for their lives; one ‘dark horse’ who seems to waste away in the background but who suddenly shines in a crisis; then there will be the ‘family owls’ – maybe grandparents who carry the tradition and wisdom of a family; the wily and cunning ‘fox’, always one step ahead of other family members, or the ‘hawks’ who forge ahead, sometimes breaking family eggs to complete the omelette! Indeed, if we tried, we could probably fill Noah’s Ark with the varied personalities we find in any one family.

Why, I ask myself, would the ‘Holy Family’ of Jesus, Mary and Joseph be any different? The typical images we see of the Holy Family are, for the most part, stylised and artificial. The angelic child gazed upon by adoring parents, all three in a state of blissful peace and harmony, or the child in a carpenter’s workshop of immaculate cleanliness with not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere are useful and good in so far as they go, but as a guide to imagining the reality and inner life of the Holy Family they, very often, cloud rather than illuminate it.

The Gospels give us no descriptions or any details of Jesus’ first thirty years, but if we look carefully, we can find some clues by which we can deduce something of what the life of the Holy Family was like, at least through the eyes of others.

Jesus returned home to Nazareth on two occasions that we know of after he began his ministry. On both occasions he spent time in the Temple, and on both occasions he seems to have angered those who listened to him, to the extend that they hustled him out of the town or even tried to kill him.

Most of what happened can, I think, be written off as ‘small-town jealousy’, but some of what the people of Nazareth said about him and his family is telling. In a simple and uncomplicated way, we learn, I think, that many in Nazareth respected him and listened to what he said (“All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips…” (Luke 4). It is equally clear, however, that others did not react positively to his words and rejected him. (…and they took offense at him. [Mark 6])

In general terms, it is clear that in the eyes of those who grew up with Jesus and knew his family, there was nothing particularly exceptional about them, (“Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” [Luke 4]; and “…Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” [Mark 6]).

It is safe to conclude, then, that Jesus’ family life in Nazareth as a child and young man, was ordinary and looked no different to that lived by everyone else in the town. Jesus would have grown up and had friends his own age. He would have attended the synagogue school until he was about ten or eleven, and then, like every other eldest son, he would have begun training in the trade of his father. Since Joseph is not mentioned in Mark’s account of this incident and Jesus is referred to as ‘the carpenter’, we might conclude that probably Joseph had already died and Jesus had taken over the family business.

This is helpful in seeing beyond the idealism of many Holy Family images and actually ‘meeting’ Joseph, Mary and Jesus as they appeared to those who knew them best. However, we all know the maxim that ‘what happens in the family stays in the family’ and no one outside close family members can ever know the dynamic playing out in any family.

At the heart of any true family is love. A marriage may begin and survive for reasons other than love (for example, marriages of convenience, arranged marriages, shotgun weddings) but it is almost impossible to imagine a ‘family’ surviving  or growing without love.

Jesus, like all of us, would have learned his first lessons from Joseph and Mary; not just from what they said to him but also from the relationship they had with each other. Small children, consciously or unconsciously, model what they say and do on what they witness at home. We also know that, at least in part, our personality is shaped by these early experiences.

No one can read the Gospels without recognising that love was the cornerstone of Jesus’ life. It expressed itself again and again in forgiveness, gentleness, compassion and a deep inner peace and joy. Surely we can conclude that Jesus, as he grew up, saw and experienced all of these qualities in Mary and Joseph.

Likewise, Jesus would have learned his first prayers at the feet of Mary and Joseph. His first lessons in the Law of Moses would have come from his parents. His first visits to the synagogue for Sabbath prayer would have been in the company of Joseph and Mary.

It is not, I think, too far a stretch to say that Jesus’ personal commitment to prayer later in his life may well have been shaped by witnessing the prayer of Joseph and Mary.

What we do not know or can ever know, are the inner secrets, hopes, fears and anxieties carried by all three members of the Holy Family. The conception of Jesus and the announcement of that to Mary and Joseph plunged them into a mystery of faith and acceptance that only they could understand.

Joseph and Mary, as any loving couple will do, must have spend long hours sharing with each the incredible mystery they shared between them. They must have supported one another through times of doubt, fear and confusion.

As Jesus grew from infant to child to man they would have continued to share with one another the responsibility they had accepted and wondered how they could best support their child. Much of this could not be shared with Jesus, who had to undertake, like all of us, the long road from childhood to maturity. After he was in bed and asleep at night, I can imagine Joseph and Mary sitting together, sharing their prayers, fears and hopes for their son.

At another level, all of us carry our deepest secrets alone. Both Mary and Joseph, probably more than any couple who ever lived, were bound together by a mystery greater than either of them could understand. I always think the haunting words in this week’s Gospel that “…Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” tell us something of an inner loneliness she had to carry alone. The even more poignant words of Simeon to Mary at the ‘Presentation of Jesus in the Temple’, that “… a sword will pierce your own heart too”  speak of the huge weight she carried.

You see, the life of the Holy Family was, at one level, the very human and ordinary life of a Jewish couple, a small-town carpenter and his wife, doing their best to raise their child as best they could. Losing him for three days in Jerusalem, as told in today’s Gospel, would not have been remembered by them as a highlight of their parental career, but this is the ordinary ‘stuff’ of parenthood.

How Jesus came to be lost is probably also a very human story. Maybe, bored by the solemnity of the Temple he wondered off with a few friends to explore the hustle and bustle of Jerusalem at Passover, and became lost.

Mary’s words when they finally found him speak something of the annoyance and frustration any parents would feel in that situation. She is not slow to let him know that he “caused them great distress” and she is also clear about who is responsible for the incident, “…Why have you treated us so!” Maybe when they got home Joseph took him aside told him that he was grounded until he was thirty and Jesus, being obedient, did what he was told!

All of the above is at the level any parent or child could understand. It is the life the people of Nazareth saw every day in the Holy Family.

But at another, much deeper level, the life of the Holy Family brings us face-to-face with the greatest mystery of the Universe, “…that God loved the world so much that he sent his only Son….”. Mary said her “yes” to becoming the Mother of God.  After his dream, Joseph said his “yes” to taking on the responsibility of supporting his wife, Mary, and nurturing the child born to her, Jesus.

Jesus himself, the third person of the Holy Family, at one level lived and grew up as any child does – he was part of a loving family, living in obedience and respect with his parents.

However, at a deeper level, beyond all human understanding, the infinite Love of God was blossoming within him. This is the part of Jesus hinted at, when Joseph and Mary found him in the Temple, “sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions…” At a level deeper even than Mary and Joseph can understand God was already preparing Jesus for his Mission on Earth.

Gospel for Sunday December 29th 2024, Feast of the Holy Family

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