Joseph, the Dreamer

When Pope Francis came in January this year, he talked about how he has a statue of a sleeping St. Joseph. He said that whenever he has something he wants done and needs Joseph's intercession, he writes the intention down on a piece of paper and puts the paper under Joseph's statue. This is his way, he says, of asking Joseph to dream of it and take care of it. It's a beautiful practice and one that has caught on. Now, sleeping St. Joseph statues are selling like hotcakes.

I'm fascinated by the image of a sleeping saint. This is not something I normally see. In fact, the only other statue I've seen lying down is the dead Jesus statue and that statue has always disturbed me. But the St. Joseph statue is not dead. He is sleeping. And some statues even have him smiling when he sleeps.

There is very little we know about Joseph from the gospels. We know that he is a just man. We know that he did some form of manual labor for a living. We know he was betrothed to Mary. We never hear him speak but we know, that like his namesake in the old testament, he was also a dreamer of dreams.

Divine dreams play a major role in every religion. I've always loved to hear about those stories and sometimes feel envious that I am not one of those special "dreamers." But I never dwell about them too long because I have more than enough dreams to think about when I'm awake. The dreams we have for ourselves, our deep desires for the life ahead of us and even our hopes for those we love are as natural to us as breathing. It is in our nature to want something better for ourselves. Our desires and hopes for our future keep us moving forward and working hard. Our aspirations and goals remind us that we are always going to seek out something better than this. That "this," whatever the current situation is, is not permanent. That "this," as in the world in which we live, is not our true home. So our dreams point us to the divine and to the spark of the divine in others.

Pope Francis said, "when you lose the capacity to dream, you lose the capacity to love." Loving someone entails dreaming for him or her too. For when we love people we naturally dream of a beautiful life for them. Our dreams and goals no longer just include our own happiness but of the happiness of those we love.

Since receiving my own St. Joseph statue, I keep him on a shelf where I can see him as I drift off to sleep and where he can watch over me as I dream. I've also begun writing my prayer intentions down and putting them under his statue. Sometimes I write specific intentions. Other times, I just write down names of people. Doing so helps me ritualize the prayers that I say in my heart.

I often look at my St. Joseph statue and think of what he must have gone through. My version is not smiling. And so I think Joseph must have fallen asleep because he was exhausted. Maybe it wasn't the work that exhausted him. Maybe it was the inner turmoil that he had been through since finding out that his fiancée was pregnant. Maybe it was wondering what would happen to Mary if he decided to leave her. Or maybe, Joseph didn't decide to leave Mary; maybe he decided to let her go. And letting her go meant saying goodbye to all the dreams he had for her and their life together. And so he must have closed his eyes because he was so spent after he had decided to give up what was very precious to him.  Maybe Joseph was exhausted because he had just realized that his dream died.

Yes, dreams can die too. Sometimes their death can cause us nothing more than a wistful thought but other times they can also cause us deep pain. And so it must have been with Joseph.

But just when we think the story might be another tragic love affair, there is a twist. For in that deep and soundless sleep, so much like death, Joseph received what all of us hope to receive when our dreams die-a new dream from God.

Joseph dreams a new dream but he doesn't stay dreaming forever. He gets up from sleep and begins a new life.

I have another statue of St. Joseph in my room. This one is on my table. And it's a statue of Joseph playing with the child Jesus. This Joseph has a toddler cradled in his arms. Father and son look at each other tenderly and intently as the young boy gently reaches out to touch his father's face. Not even in his imagination would Joseph have believed that he could be greater than the famous patriarch who shared his name. Not even in his wildest dreams would Joseph have thought that he could hold the Son of God in his arms. Not even his deepest hopes could have prepared him for being called "father" by the child of Mary.

This just and quiet man speaks to me even in his silence. And he reminds me that sometimes, old dreams give birth to new dreams. But other times, old dreams have to die to make way for new dreams to grow.