Joseph, Did You Know?

An Advent + Priestly Ordination Reflection

Jesus, Justice & Joash is based on the work of Rev. Joash P. Thomas - global human rights leader, international speaker, and theologian. Joash’s first book, The Justice of Jesus (released on September 30) is available here or wherever you buy your books. Do leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads after reading this book to make it easy for others to find it too. Anyone in the US ordering via Baker Book House gets the book for 30% off + free shipping! This is the perfect Christmas gift for that family member or friend who says to you, “Justice isn’t Christian; it’s woke Marxism.”

Truth be told - I’ve rarely given Joseph (the earthly father of Jesus) much thought. If I’m being even more real, I’m fairly certain I’ve given more thought to the other Joseph; you know, my fellow Enneagram 4 in the Old Testament who thought he was special because of his prophetic dreams and nice threads.

During a trip to Bolivia this March, I learned that Bolivians celebrate Fathers’ Day on March 19 - St. Joseph’s Feast Day in honor of St. Joseph. How special that St. Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus and the Patron Saint of workers, is seen as a role model for fathers in Bolivia!

But I’m thinking a lot about Joseph in light of two upcoming events:

i) A preaching engagement on December 28 at Toronto’s largest Pentecostal church (where I’ll be teaching on next week’s Gospel reading also focusing on St. Joseph), and;

ii) My ordination into the priesthood on February 1 in Cleveland, TN. Something about officially becoming ‘Father Joash’ in a few weeks in the lifelong vows that I take has me leaning into paying closer attention to the earthly father of Jesus.

Who was this man entrusted with the daunting task of raising the Son of God? And how did he shape the life of Jesus with his own self-sacrificing courage and faithfulness?

Here’s the Gospel reading from the lectionary for this Sunday (the Fourth Sunday of Advent):

Matthew 1:18-25

1:18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit.

1:19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly.

1:20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.

1:21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

1:22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

1:23 “Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.”

1:24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife,

1:25 but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

I want us to contemplatively imagine ourselves in the place of Joseph here - a working class, occupied, Jewish Palestinian man living under the boot of the Roman Empire who has just learned that what was supposed to be one of the most significant events in his life (his engagement) has seemingly fallen apart.

In an honor-shame Jewish Palestinian culture, imagine all the questions you’ll start to get from the community now that your wedding plans have fallen apart. The same community that would later say of Jesus, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” would now say of you behind your back, “Isn’t that the dude who was once engaged to Mary? You know, the girl who supposedly got pregnant from the Holy Spirit?”

So Joseph, who has every right to protect his own honor, social standing, and future marriage prospects finds the courage to quietly part ways with Mary without exposing her to further shame. I want to pause here to acknowledge that in an honor-shame, communal culture, this is kind of a big deal. For a man in any time to be mindful of the impact of his actions on women around him is a sign of something deeper going on in his heart - a posture of justice. So it’s fair to concur that Joseph was a just man.

Now, we don’t know much about Joseph in Scripture apart from what we see in the Advent story, and apart from the two known times he takes his family to the Temple in Jerusalem - when Jesus was likely 40 days old and when Jesus was 12 years old. So again, we can concur from these events that Joseph was a devout Jewish man.

Furthermore, pay attention to Joseph’s reaction to the angel’s encouragement and instructions in his dream. He doesn’t seem to waffle or hesitate; he obeys the divine revelation given to him - despite the personal and social cost.

Here's the thing I want us to focus on: this kind of courageous faith isn’t an overnight miracle; this kind of faith takes years of cultivation in silence and obscurity.

Like the vast majority of Jewish men in his time, Joseph likely prayed three times a day his entire life - morning, afternoon, and evening.

Like the vast majority of Jewish men in his time, Joseph would have observed the Sabbath by resting and attending synagogue at least weekly where he would repeatedly hear the Scriptures being read.

Like the vast majority of Jewish men in his time, Joseph likely tithed generously and regularly to care for his more poor neighbours in the Roman Empire.

Like the vast majority of Jewish men in his time, despite being a working class carpenter, Joseph likely immersed himself in the regular study of the Scriptures.

Like the vast majority of Jewish men in his time, Joseph would have submitted himself to the dietary laws and fasting spiritual practices of the community.

Like the vast majority of Jewish men in his time, Joseph observed the festivals and liturgical calendar of his community.

Like the vast majority of Jewish men in his time, Joseph engaged in all of the above spiritual disciplines in community while suffering under the boot of Empire.

Here’s my point: God drawing near to humankind by first drawing near to Joseph wasn’t a coincidence; it was the fulfillment of something that Joseph had been preparing for his entire life alongside his community - by immersing himself in the historical spiritual practices of the community that quite literally shaped him to receive and act on the divine revelation offered to him about the coming Creator Sets Free (as the First Nations Version beautifully refers to Jesus of Nazareth).

Like Mary, Joseph was catechized over a lifetime to know, hear, and obey as soon as divine revelation was offered to him.

What spiritual practices are you submitting yourself to so that you’re regularly shaped by Jesus and his just ways to be salt and light in the world that Creator God loves so much? Are you and I being shaped by the historical sacraments of the Global Church?

For those of us from evangelical backgrounds, the ‘sacramental’ language might be new but I think many of us have likely already been shaped to have a high view of the sacraments - means of grace that allow us to encounter the real presence of Christ.

My view of the sacraments is shaped by the way my St. Thomas Indian Christian ancestors understood the sacraments. I find it intriguing that barring a few semantic differences, even my recent Mar Thoma ancestors (an Anglican Communion, Protestant-adjacent branch of the St. Thomas Church) hold to a view of the sacraments that is strikingly similar to the Catholic view of the sacraments. The seven main sacraments in both of these traditions are: Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist (Communion), Confession (Reconciliation), Marriage, Ordination, and Unction (Anointing of the Sick).

It is the joy of serving Jesus through the sacraments that drew me into the priesthood; just like it’s the sacraments that have drawn many like Rachel Held Evans back into the church. I share this powerful quote from Rachel Held Evans (who I sadly never got to meet but share a few special, mutual friends with such as Sarah Bessey) in my book:

When I was ready to give up on the Church, it was the sacraments that pulled me back. When my faith had become little more than an abstraction, a set of propositions to be affirmed or denied, the tangible, tactile nature of the sacraments invited me to touch, smell, taste, hear, and see God in the stuff of everyday life again. They got God out of my head and into my hands. They reminded me that Christianity isn’t meant to simply be believed; it’s meant to be lived, shared, eaten, spoken, and enacted in the presence of other people. They reminded me that, try as I may, I can’t be a Christian on my own.

I get the sense that many of us need to be reminded of exactly this during this Advent season - a season of expectantly waiting for Creator God to enter into our beautiful, broken world to set us free. The good news however is that we don’t have to wait on our own anymore for Christ’s second Advent. Why wait alone when we can wait with Christ’s real, mystical presence made available to us through the sacraments?

If you want to experience the joy of waiting for Christ’s second Advent with his real presence through the sacraments - can I encourage you to drop by an Episcopalian / Anglican, Mar Thoma, Catholic, or Orthodox parish this weekend? I’m truly curious to hear what you see that doing in your body, your soul, and your faith as we close out this Advent season.

Two years ago, fresh off of walking through a heavy season of unexpected personal loss myself in August 2023, I heard God speak to me - first through survivors of child sexual exploitation in the Philippines and then through my time in prayer during an airport layover in Taiwan. I wrote down what I heard God say to me during that time of prayer so I wouldn’t forget:

“You may never become an earthly father. But I will make you a spiritual father to many like the children you just met. Just stay the course and be faithful.”

I had no idea what this meant back then. But the sacraments I received until that point (including the sacrament of sitting at the feet of my marginalized neighbours) prepared me to hear from the Spirit and be greatly comforted in that moment.

Something tells me I’ll have a better sense of what this means when I experience the sacrament of ordination into the priesthood and step into my lifelong calling as ‘Father Joash’ in about six weeks from now.

Drawing from his ancient, St. Thomas Indian Christian roots and a decolonized, justice-centered understanding of Scripture, Joash helps audiences reimagine a faith that unites rather than divides—and that stands firmly with neighbors on the margins. Through speaking engagements, teaching, and advocacy, he calls Christians to a more contemplative yet courageous activism, motivated by the grace-filled, non-violent way of Jesus. To directly support Joash’s upcoming PhD costs (with research focusing on St. Thomas Indian Christianity and Celtic Christianity), you can upgrade to be a paid Substack subscriber today. We’ve also just launched monthly virtual chai hangouts as an exclusive paid subscriber perk! Thank you for your partnership in this work of awakening the Western Church to prioritize justice through the reimagination of our faith in ancient, Jesus-centered, justice-oriented, and precolonial ways.