The family is a crucible

 Homily: Holy Family – Cycle A

         A crucible is a device developed in ancient times that is used to heat metals to a very high temperature.  Usually made of ceramic or porcelain (or another material similarly resistant to extremely high temperatures), a crucible is used either to purify metals (by burning off any impurities from them) or to create alloys (which are mixtures of metals created by heating them together and, thus, allowing them to mix).  In the crucible, metals are both tested for purity (when heated to their extreme limits) and forced to change (when mixed in with other materials).  Because of these characteristics of the uses of a crucible, the term “crucible” is often applied to any situation in which one is tested severely or is forced either to change or to make a difficult decision.  For example, we might say of many of our war veterans that “his/her character was formed in the crucible of war.”

         Perhaps we might not immediately think of it this way, but the family is a type of crucible.  This has become increasingly apparent to me through these years that I have spent listening to confessions.  Week after week I hear the same or similar things from people: “I’ve been impatient with my children”, or “I was angry with my spouse and yelled at him/her”, or “I’ve been mean to my brothers and sisters”, or “I’ve not respected my mother and father.”  That for which you all are confessing and asking forgiveness are the limitations to love and charity that you are finding within yourselves and which are made manifest within the crucible that is your family.  In other words, we all have an ideal of how we should live and interact with each other as a family, but when the heat and pressure begin to build through our daily interactions with each other, our character is tested and impurities begin to show.  We are challenged to change and many of you come to the confessional looking for forgiveness for your failures and for the grace to make the necessary changes.

         The Holy Family, whom we celebrate today, is an example for us of how to survive and to thrive in the crucible of the family.  For Joseph and Mary, there was testing from the very beginning of their relationship.  Not sooner than Joseph was betrothed to Mary did he find out that his new wife—whom he had yet to receive into his house—was already with child.  If it wasn’t for the angel’s intervention in a dream, Joseph may have divorced her straight away and the Holy Family would have been a broken one from the start.

         Then, as the day for Mary to give birth came near, the command came from Caesar that all must be enrolled in their ancestral hometown.  Thus, Joseph and Mary (with Jesus still in the womb) had to travel to Bethlehem—the little town that, obviously, became overcrowded with visitors—in which Mary was left to give birth to their son in a rudimentary barn carved into the side of a rock.  If that wasn’t enough, a week or so later word came to Joseph and Mary that the child was in danger of being murdered by the king and that they needed to flee from there without delay.  And so the family picked up the very little that they had and went off to Egypt, where they lived as foreigners, outcast and despised, for the next seven years.

         Remember that Joseph was probably twice as old as Mary when they were married and that Mary was barely 15 years-old.  These were challenges with which even the most veteran families would have difficulty dealing, but they had to deal with them in the first months of their relationship.  We honor them today as holy, not because they lived lives of perfect peace and harmony, but because, within the crucible that is the family, they persevered in charity and in following the way of the Lord: that is the way of righteousness.

         Saint Paul seems to understand this.  In his letter to the Colossians he offers us a list of virtues for how to live as “God’s chosen ones”, that is, as God’s family.  He describes the virtues as if they are a set of clothing that you wear.  “Put on … heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another … and over all these,” he says, as if it was some sort of ‘spiritual overcoat’, “put on love, that is, the bond of perfection.”  While most of us could look at this list and say, “yes, that’s how it should be,” I would guess that many of us (myself included) have a very difficult time putting this into practice.  Well, Paul understands that, too.  And so he continues in his letter: “let the peace of Christ control your hearts … and be thankful.”  How can we achieve this lofty level of virtue?  By letting the peace of Christ control our hearts and by being thankful.  In other words, there’s no magic here, just the hard work of grace within us.

         Paul, then, describes a way that we might begin.  “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.”  With the word of Christ with you in the crucible, Paul seems to say, the hard work of putting on the virtues will lightened; and when you give yourself over to praising God in “psalms, hymns and spiritual songs”, you focus less on whatever difficulty or conflict you are having and instead remember that Christ has saved us from our limitations so that we can “bear with one another” in peace.

         The New Year is rapidly approaching.  Aside from wishing, in general, for things to turn more positive through the next year, perhaps some of you have been thinking about resolutions that you’d like to make that, if put into practice, might make 2021 a happier and more fulfilling year for you.  Perhaps for some of you, the prospect of the difficulties of 2020 continuing into 2021 has made you give up on the idea that a resolution can make anything better in the next year.  Regardless, to all of you I am suggesting that you take this passage from Saint Paul’s letter to the Colossians and meditate on it: asking God to show you how you can incorporate its teachings in 2021.  Begin by asking God which of these virtues you are lacking and then for the grace to begin to practice them.  Then, look for ways that, as a family (however you define your family), you can make 2021 a year in which you will “let the word of Christ dwell in you richly” by reading the Bible together and then using that time to acknowledge and give thanks for the blessings that you’ve received.  (Grandparents, this is a great way to bond with your grandchildren as well!)

         If you and your family can begin to do these things, I guarantee you that the world around you will be improved and that you will be happier in 2021, in spite of whatever trials from 2020 may linger or whatever new trials may come.  With the Holy Family as our guide, and with the strength of the grace that we receive in this Holy Eucharist, we can emerge in 2021 from the crucibles of our families happier and holier; if only we would entrust ourselves to God to do it.  Joseph and Mary did and their family is now called holy.  May 2021 be the year in which your family earns the same name.

Given in Spanish at Saint Patrick Parish: Kokomo, IN – December 27^th, 2020