Matthew 1:18-25, Simbanggabi

Alam n’yo po, lahat ng naging kakilala kong karpintero, tahimik. I can still name all of them: Manong Imo, who lived with us for a long time; Mang Rudy, when I was in the Novitiate, Mang Remy and Kuya Teodor, fantastic craftsmen in San Jose Seminary. And today, we have Kuya Loloy in Arrupe House. They’re 5 of the hardest working, very talented carpenters I’ve known. But they don’t talk very much. Kaya naisip ko, baka naman kaya we, Catholics, have this tradition of thinking of Joseph as a quiet man. Kasi karpintero. But even biblically, there’s also a lot of quiet about Joseph, too. Firstly, he appears only in the infancy narratives. Then, after the Finding in the Temple, wala na siya. Secondly, not once do we hear Joseph talk. No speaking parts. Tonight’s Gospel, for example, is by far the longest story about Joseph. We may correctly call this his Annunciation. But even here, he doesn’t say anything. Baket? Tulog!

 I was thinking, are carpenters quiet because their work requires concentration? Puede, ‘di ba? They have a rule of thumb, remember? Measure twice, cut once. Pag nagkamali ka kasi ng putol, bawas sa sahod mo ‘yon. So, Joseph must’ve been a man of deep concentration. His thought pattern? A scaffold of numbers, shapes, sizes; table this big for room this small; shelf this heavy for clay wall this soft; thatch this thick for budget this tight. Kaya measure twice, cut once, para kasyang-kasya, para eksakto…. Tapos, ito! Binulabog ng Diyos. His fiancée goes mysteriously pregnant with a child not his. By any known measure in Joseph’s check-and-recheck world, hindi ‘yun kasya, hindi eksakto, and as young people say today, masakit pa sa bangs. So, what he couldn’t measure, he contemplated cutting himself out of it. Putol! Wanted no part in this. As far as he was concerned, the wedding was off. Ayos na lahat eh. May ipon na. Planado na ang kasal. Then, this, screaming with immeasurable scandal.

Tapos ‘eto pa. The Gospel reports that Joseph was a righteous man. Matuwid na Hudyo. The measure of true righteousness was how closely a Jew ran his life along the 613 purity commandments pursuant to the basic Ten. Just quickly, to give you an idea. Let’s talk about today’s devout Jews. Take, for example: thou shalt keep the Sabbath holy. Sabbath starts from Friday sunset to Saturday sunset, within which Jews are forbidden to (a) tie/untie anything, (b) tear anything, (c) build a fire, (d) operate machines. Why? All those constitute work. So, if they want to wear shoes during the Sabbath, they get those without shoelaces. If they need paper towels during the Sabbath meal, they must pre-tear them before Friday sunset. It’s forbidden to turn on the stove during Sabbath. That’s building a fire. So, they eat cold food. You use the Sabbath elevator that automatically stops at every floor because pressing buttons would be operating a machine. So is switching lights on and off. So, they install those timer-switches, or hire a non-Jew to do it for them! Imagine? All this is today, sisters and brothers, ha? So, imagine how much stricter it was back in Joseph’s day. At Sabbath commandments pa lang ‘yon! Can you imagine the marriage commandments? To get back to the point: Joseph was a righteous man. So, the 613 Laws must’ve ruled his behavior, diet, clothing, words, prayers—as faithfully as his ruler governed his carpentry…. Tapos, ito! A disgrasyada fiancee! What did the Law say about this insidious immorality? The Law compelled the righteous Jew to report the adulterous partner to the Sanhedrin. The priests would put her through what they called the “ordeal of bitter water.” (You can Google that when you get home, if you wish.) Or, they could just stone her to death if clearly guilty. Either way, though, Joseph would have blood on his hands if he chose religious righteousness over human compassion. He was down to two choices: matuwid o makatao? At this point, everything happening to Joseph was so not in his blueprint. It was like God snatched the blueprint away and just gave him verbal orders. “Take Mary as your wife. The child will be a great man. Do not be afraid.” Walang iniwang instruction manual. He’d have to enter this cold and navigate this blind.

 Pero inako niya lahat. Inako niyang maging asawa ng dalagang ina. Inako niyang maging tatay ng batang hindi kanya. His lifetime commitment to God’s Laws—abnegated that in order to save his mag-ina (and he better learn to call them that soon, his mag-ina). But righting something so wrong with something wrong…to make it right? Never in his wildest dreams and by any stretch of his imagination.

Notice, sisters and brothers, for God to give us the Savior, he first called a savior of the Savior. God called Joseph to save Mary and her child, Savior of the world, from dishonor or death, whichever came first. Sometimes, God calls good people to do something unrighteous by the world’s measuring tape, but scandalously good by God’s master plan; this strange, inscrutable, life-messing, but divine, saving plan.

Did God ever call you to do something the world regarded as absurd or worse, immoral? But deep inside you, you knew it was the right thing to do. First, it meant saving people from deep trouble (even if it put you in trouble first). Second, saving them would benefit even more people down the road (even if you lost something vital yourself first). Third, it was going to get worse before it got better. Pag-aawayan n’yo itong mag-asawa, o ng parents mo, or your friends would think you’re nuts. Still, you knew with your guts that God’s hand was in all this, even if yours could hardly handle everything that was happening. Ever been there, sisters and brothers?

You kinda wonder if Joseph had anyone to run to while all this was happening. Mary had Elizabeth. Whom did he have? Then again, another carpenter’s rule-of-thumb came in handy: many words, many mistakes; few words, few mistakes. When God messes with us to do something scandalously good, we can’t make too much noise either because (1) the world will not understand, (2) the world can be very judgmental by mere appearances, and (3) marami talagang Marites sa mundo! So, in silence, we do good, even if we also suffer in silence, somehow. Pero gano’n talaga. (Sabi nga noon ni Fr. Guido Arguelles: “If you want to confess something scandalous, go to a Jesuit. You’ll feel good after the confession with an SJ: sin justifier!)

Did you hear about the man who stood at the gates of heaven? After many questions, St. Peter finally asked, “Uhmm, do you have any scars?” The man was puzzled? “Scars?” “Yes, scars.” “Uhmm, no,” the man said, “not that I know of.” St. Peter looked at him for a while. Then said: “No scars. What’s the matter? You didn’t fight for anyone?” The way I see Joseph, sisters and brothers: he broke and shattered all the precious well-kept vessels that contained everything important in his life, so he could protect and preserve this “vessel” that held the Savior of the world, this Vessel of honor, this singular Vessel of devotion, this House of Gold, this Ark of the New Covenant. All this must’ve wounded and scarred him, healed only by God’s hands.

God bless you if these days, you’re doing something disturbing and iffy, if only to save people who need help saving themselves. The people you save, whether from hunger or trouble, or from tattered clothes or ill health, or from walang maibayad sa ospital, walang pang-tuition, walang panlibing—chances are, they are saviors of others, too. Malay mo, like Joseph, you might be saving saviors, too.

Pero tahimik lang. Anyway, nothing good really stays hidden for too long. From the womb of secrecy, the Good will see the light, shatter the quiet of a night star-filled, with his soft, milk-begging cries for Salvation. O quiet heart of Joseph, pray for us.