(For the audio version of this blog, please visit: https://brothersinchristcmf.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/Mass-Blog-for-the-Feast-of-the-Holy-Family-2024.mp3)
Nothing gets us closer to the divinity of the Holy family than the rebellion of our human family. What’s the picture we get of Jesus this Sunday? A kid who thoughtlessly wanders off from his parents without telling them—just so he can respond to an urge. And when his worried mother and father finally find him and chastise him for such selfishness, he says, in effect, “What’s the big deal? I have more important things to do than hang around with you two!” (Lk 2:41-52)
Is the son of God sassing his foster parents? Bishop Robert Barron offers a possible defense for such behavior in his book about Thomas Aquinas—Spiritual Master.
Like Father like Son.
Imagine our God having the heart of a teenager, caught up in the exuberance of his will. Maybe this applies to young Jesus, too.
“Why does a teenager dye her hair in outlandish colors and wear clothes that shock the members of polite society?” Barron asks. “For much the same reason God created toucans and giraffes: for the fun of it—and perhaps even for its shock value.”
Another analogy, even more shocking: why is a worn-out football player, limping off the field at the end of a game, a beautiful sight? His jersey’s torn and muddy, face sweaty and bloody—and he’s lugging his scuffed helmet in one hand and a filthy towel in the other. That’s beautiful?
You bet, because what we’re seeing here is the luminous union of courage, physical strength and the sass of reckless abandon—all defining this player’s mission.
“All things are close to the Creator God who dwells in every aspect of being,” Barron concludes. In the mind of Thomas Aquinas, Barron believes, the human spirit is wired for a spiritual journey upward toward union with that shockingly divine source.
The young sassy Jesus proves that even if humanity’s reckless abandon of youth results in our becoming the psychological equivalent of that battered, brutalized and bloody football player toward the end of our lives, we are called to exhibit God’s divine mercy to other beaten-up souls like us. The Book of Sirach also urges respect for our battered and complex moms and dads:
My son, take care of your father when he is old; grieve him not as long as he lives. Even if his mind fail, be considerate of him; revile him not all the days of his life; kindness to a father will not be forgotten. (Sir 3:2-6, 12-14)
We may all enter this world’s field of play equipped with quirks vastly different from one another, but we’re called to wear the same uniform throughout the game, as Paul tells the Colossians:
Put on, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. (Col 3:12-21 or 3:12-17)
Love is the armor of eternal life. It is both our uniform and our shelter. It’s also where Jesus can be found.
–Tom Andel
I imagine for most of us the first place we felt the warmth of love is in the homes we were raised in. More than likely it came from a tender and caring mother. Dads have a different way of communicating love, but no one can give it like a mother. Not wives, not children, not siblings. They can and do love us, but the love of a mother is special, as it was made to be.
At this time of year, it is good to reflect on the blessings of our moms, whether they are still with us, or in cherished memories which we get to keep forever in our hearts.
We all should remember the blessing we have as Catholics of our heavenly mother who offers much support, love, and consolation when needed, which can be often. I’m betting one of the memories of our mothers was or is her devotion to the mother of us all, praying the rosary or teaching us to pray it with her.
A priceless memory of a good mom!
Sometimes those memories go beyond words, Thomas. Memories of my mother are visceral–like the looks mine gave me and those Mary must have given Jesus when we were both bratty and angelic. One of the treasures from my memory file is the realization that my mom and hers were both named after Mary’s mother: Anna. And my mom’s middle name was that of John the Baptist’s mom. So, when I pray the joyful mysteries of the rosary, that realization comes flooding back to me in their visitation–reminding me that Holy Families are mothers, fathers and cousins, too.