Silent Knight

The first time I went to Russia, my aunt bought me an icon as a gift from Sergiyev Posad. About 6 inches tall, it depicts the virgin Mary in her signature blue veil, with baby Jesus in one hand and a cluster of white lillies in the other. The gold lettering shimmers in the light, so I have the icon hanging where the sunlight catches it when I wake up in the morning.

The Madonna and Child is one of the most ubiquitous subjects in art history. Someone you don't see as often, however, is St. Joseph.

Growing up, my biblical hero was St. Paul. Recently, however, I find myself wondering more and more about the gentle carpenter who faded (somewhat) into the background of both art and biblical history, though perhaps it only seems this way to me because I'm neither Catholic nor Orthodox, and my church views saints a bit differently.

I have heard it said that Joseph was likely an older man when he was betrothed to Mary, but this seems improbable, given that we know Jesus' parents were very poor, and you likely wouldn't marry you daughter off to someone like that unless they were considerably wealthy. He also was a carpenter, which was probably more akin to a construction worker than what one might picture in the modern sense. This role would require a lot of skill, strength, and dexterity, all of which would be needed to protect his postpartum wife and her new baby, especially given they would need to flee to Egypt to escape the mad King Herod and his soldiers. I suspect that he also cared very deeply for Mary, because whenever he found out she was pregnant, he tried to find a way to divorce her quietly, rather than leaving her vulnerable in a society where even perceived adultery was punishable by death. I cannot imagine that God, in His loving kindness, would fail to ensure that Mary and Jesus had a good man to watch over them both, and I picture St. Joseph in the same way I do the all the main heroes from The Lord of The Rings: as a protector and positive example of masculinity.

While I have not finished it yet, I recently started reading 'The Silent Knight' by Elizabeth Lev, and this book, coupled with many of the depictions I have found in both newer and older paintings, supports this perspective. My favorite images of the silent saint appeared in the 17th century, and are by a Spanish artist, Bartolome Esteban Murillo. St. Joseph seems to be a favorite subject of his, and is featured in many of his works, with my personal favorites being 'The Holy Family with a Little Bird' (1650), and 'St Joseph and the Child Christ' (1670-ish). Both images show Jesus and his foster father interacting lovingly in wonderfully human scenes. Another work that I like, 'St. Joseph the Carpenter', by French artist George de la Tour (1642–44), shows the child Jesus holding a candle for his foster father while he works, and has a wonderful use of light and feeling of tenderness. My final favorite is a wonderful painting by Botticelli, "The Adoration of the Christ Child' (1500's), which is particularly sweet, primarily because of the way that Christ's foster father is depicted, looking at the baby with complete, utter love and adoration. The more I look for these images, the more I seem to find.

I genuinely believe that while life isn't easy, God often sends His very best men to protect and love the most vulnerable, which I can see reflected in my own life as well. I truly believe that there is a unique and special role for all the brave, gentle men like St. Joseph who are willing not only to protect vulnerable women, mothers, and children who are not their own, but to love them as well. I imagine that there is probably a very special place in heaven reserved for them, and I look forward to the day when I finally get to meet the Silent Knight himself.

"If young men are wondering what good masculinity looks like these days, a decent place to start is by learning the skills that allow you to advocate for and protect others. If you’re really strong and smart, you will garner enough power, influence, and kindness to begin protecting others. That’s it. Full stop. Real men protect other people."

-Scott Galloway