A new inheritance
Harry Scherer
Class of 2022
(3/2021) In the first line of one of his sonnets, William Wordsworth exclaims, "Father! To God Himself we cannot give a holier name." In these few words, the poet suggests two profound things about fatherhood. First, God the Father is the ultimate model for all men who fulfill a paternal role. Second, it is the responsibility of these same men to look to Him for guidance and direction.
In this month of St. Joseph during the year of St. Joseph, it seems appropriate to point to this foster-father of the Son of God as the first creature to acknowledge and live out these two truths so intimately. We know very little about St. Joseph and it is precisely because of this dearth of knowledge that we learn so much about fatherhood.
St. Joseph is silent throughout the Gospels. We hear from his spouse every once in a while, and from his Son with much more regularity. This indicates something distinct about the paternal position: it is a position much more about action than about speech. Because of the amount of time a father and his son spend together, the son knows almost immediately if his father’s words deviate from his actions. Fatherhood is a perpetual examination of consistency. Because the practice of virtue is made evident in action and not by convincing, the father is infinitely more interested in the stuff of his action than the fluff of his words.
The deafening silence of St. Joseph indicates the humility of a mere creature constantly amazed by the Divine Wisdom and mute in His presence. St. Joseph embraced his place as the earthly father of Christ and in that way allowed his own action to serve as a constant educational tool for his Son. For Christ, assuming the lowliness of human flesh meant simultaneously assuming a position of obedience to his earthly father. It was because of this obedience to St. Joseph that Christ "advanced in wisdom and age and grace with God and men" (Luke 2:52).
St. Joseph was the silent teacher who taught Christ how to be a man. Instead of telling him the best way to spend his brief pilgrimage on earth, he showed him with the tenderness he demonstrated with the Blessed Mother, his diligence in the workshop and his pious deference to the divine will during prayer at home and in the synagogue. Our Lord could not have been convinced of the merits of these earthly goods but had to have been shown them with patience and paternal love.
It has been relatively easy for me to reflect on the probable characteristics of St. Joseph because of my own experience with the certain characteristics of my dad. I don’t have to refer back to notes or a glossary of vocabulary under "preferable paternal attributes." On the contrary, these ideals are so engrained in my mind because they are so tied in with my own experience.
It’s a common notion for persons to identify their parents or children or dogs as the "best" ones out there. I think there’s something appropriate about that and I wouldn’t say that those persons should be accused of being clichéd. With that said, I can say with confidence that my dad is the best one out there. This is true, at the very least, because he was the one who was given, is given and continues to give himself to me. His constant gift of himself throughout my life has meant that he did not passively accept his responsibilities as a father but embraced them without reserve.
Consistent with the silent teaching of St. Joseph, the only things I know about fatherhood I know because of my own dad. Other than recalling fond memories from my early childhood, I don’t remember him ever explicitly telling me anything about what real fatherhood is. I certainly don’t regard this as an absence in our relationship; on the contrary, I view it as a strength. Real relationships require vital communication through nuance and knowledge of the other person. We never have needed to sit down to have a conversation about real fatherhood because we’ve been having it for the past 21 years.
I know that my experience and life with my dad has been a unique one to the extent that everyone’s experience and life with their father or those men who play a paternal role in their lives is unique. At the same time, I know that I am incredibly blessed with the father that has been given to me and I could not be more grateful. We have been told since we were young that God made us in the exact right moment at the exact right place. Throughout the troubles, desolations, frustrations and humiliations of my life, that truth I have been told since I was a young boy becomes even clearer when I have been able to share that time with my dad. This truth is more pleasantly clear through the good times, of course. One of the gifts that my dad has shared with me and my mum, though, is an attitude that sees a very blurred line between the good times and bad times. For years, he has incarnated the words of St. Augustine that I always love to cite:
"Bad times, hard times-this is what people keep saying; but let us live well, and times shall be good. We are the times: Such as we are, such are the times." He has been and continues to be a solid rock on which my mum and I have leant throughout the years.
I am so grateful for all of the gifts that my dad has given me; the only recourse I have to repay him is to try to imitate him in any way that I can so that the gift can be passed on beyond his or my years. While this inheritance is one with more responsibilities that I can number, I have a pretty incredible model from which to work.
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