Joseph, Patron Saint of Contradictions

A Reflection for the 4th Sunday of Advent 2025

Joseph teaches us what to do when it seems like God contradicts Himself.

Think of the situation Joseph is in. He unknowingly stands on the cusp of the Lord doing something incomprehensibly new, fulfilling the words of comfort and joy proclaimed through Isaiah, “See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the wilderness I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers” (Is 43:19). Yet that is of little comfort to Joseph. He doesn’t have the vision that God has; he doesn’t have the understanding that God has. From Joseph’s perspective, the “new thing” that the Lord is doing seems like God contradicting Himself. On one hand, Joseph had been given the law, a gift from the Lord to His people, to which he is obedient. The law was clear about the gravity of pregnancy outside the marriage covenant. Yet Joseph also knew, likely from Mary’s self-disclosure, that God was doing something incomprehensibly miraculous in the situation.

This child was of God.

Yet, the law was also of God.

Joseph was caught between two things that he knew were the will of God, yet seemed incompatible with one another. In my experience, that is a common situation for a disciple to find themselves in.

We know Our Father desires to free us, yet at times something in our lives keeps us enslaved.

We know that the Holy Spirit empowers us with Divine Love, yet for some mediocrity and suffering seem to be constant companions.

We know in our bones that Jesus longs to draw us close to His Heart, yet too often He feels so distant as if He were absent.

If we surrender the shield we too often use to protect God from our own doubts and difficulties, we quickly realize that, like Joseph, there are times in our lives when God seems to contradict Himself.

That is certainly not an easy situation to be in.

In the Sunday Gospel, we hear that Joseph “decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream…” Yet the original Greek of this passage communicates far more uncertainty. The text emphasizes that Joseph experienced a lengthy, intense time of confusion while trying to reconcile this apparent contradiction. He didn’t just decide; he wrestled and agonized over how to be faithful to the Lord who was acting in unpredictable ways.

Notice what Joseph didn’t do – ignore it. He didn’t ignore the apparent contradiction. He plunged headfirst into the mystery of a God whose ways are always new, always defying the simple if-then logic that we humans like to use. Joseph allowed himself to be consumed by a mystery that outstripped his categories, knowing it was only in that place of uncontrollable mystery that he would encounter God.

Only God Himself can reveal that what we see as contradictions are, in reality, the fulfillment of promises in ways we couldn’t begin to understand and would never dare to hope for. Joseph’s fidelity to the Lord’s will and the darkness that sometimes accompanies that will placed him in a posture of openness, allowing Him to encounter God in a way that transformed a contradiction into a paradox of love. Biblical scholar Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis says it this way:

“Joseph’s dark puzzlement, in piety before God, unwittingly invites illuminations to come to his soul. Sadness and confusion, presented to God, invite his coming. Persevere in darkness without rebelling and without lighting some trembling candle, and God’s healing light will invade you.”

Friends, do you see? When we flee from the place of confusion and darkness to avoid questioning God, we become foreigners in the land where God walks alongside His people. I think we can dare to say that by being faithful in darkness we force God – insofar as He is compelled by love – yes, His unimaginable love for you compels Him to come to your side when you faithfully dwell in the darkness, for light cannot act in any other way than to dispel the dark.

Notice, though, the light that Joseph receives is not an explanation. It is an affirmation that, yes, this is God’s doing, and here is the next step. Joseph doesn’t receive a blueprint of God’s plan; he isn’t given a neat resolution about how to reconcile the seeming contradiction, and he certainly isn’t made privy to the cosmic implications of his faithfulness.

Joseph doesn’t merely understand differently; he accepts a vocation he did not design.

The answer to our questioning is not a plan, it is not even a path. It is – maybe - a next step. But beyond everything, it is not an explanation at all. It is a person.

Emmanuel. God-with-us. Jesus.

Not God-with-us-after-we-figure-it-out.

God-with-us. God-with-you.

Jesus doesn’t explain away the suffering, the darkness, the confusion and uncertainty. No, He knows that those answers would be fragile and fleeting while we still are on pilgrimage through a world wounded by sin. So He offers us something far greater, far more lasting.

He gives us His very self.

He takes from us the simplest of answers and, in return, gives us His life. In Him contradictions transform into paradoxes of love and darkness flees from never wavering light. In Him and in Him alone, the deepest, most persistent longings of our hearts encounter Love Incarnate.

Joseph teaches us that we must avoid the temptation to flee from the darkness, thinking our confusion and difficulties are somehow offensive to God.

When confusion reigns in your life, when darkness and doubt try to lay claim to your heart, don’t chase explanations first. Seek Jesus. In the Eucharist, in the Scriptures, in silent prayer—sit with Him in the dark.

Jesus gives something far greater than answers.

He gives us Himself.