
The first of May is recognised as the feast day of St Joseph the Workman. This feast was added to the Church’s calendar by Pope Leo XIII in 1895 to supplement St Joseph ’s main feast day of 19th March, which is almost always overshadowed by the events of Lent. Cynics have often claimed that St Joseph the Workman was instituted simply to deflect from the hijacking of Mayday by Trade Union militants and revolutionary socialists. This would be to do injustice to Pope Leo, one of the greatest Popes of recent centuries. He was a prolific agitator in favour of social justice and had a genuine concern both for the dignity and importance of the working man and the justified grievances of the 19th century urban poor. Today, the feast of St Joseph continues to give a more spiritual focus to Mayday, that most plebeian and enjoyable of feasts, giving an alternative to both the mischief of the organised Left and the absurd adoption of Mayday as “Beltaine” by the Neo-Pagan fraternity. However, the main historical significance of the institution of St Joseph the Workman is that it marked the final apotheosis of St Joseph into patron of the Church and Catholic role model par-excellence.
One could be forgiven for assuming that St Joseph had always held a pre-eminent position in the saintly aristocracy of Christendom, after all he was the effective earthly father and supporter of Christ himself. It is inconceivable that Joseph was not a major formative influence on the young Messiah. He would have fed, clothed and supported the child Jesus, who, as the scant childhood details in the Gospels suggest, was a precocious, outspoken and highly intelligent young man. In the fullness of time, St Joseph would have taught his ward carpentry and bequeathed to him the family business. Jesus’ intricate knowledge of scripture and Jewish tradition would also have owed a lot to lessons given him by his Dad around the family table. Biblical scholars are agreed that St Joseph was probably dead before Jesus began his ministry in the last three years of his life. In England , dozens of Catholic schools and churches are under his patronage. Popular images from the pulp-piety era of the 1880s depict St Joseph as a gentle, doe-eyed, doting father, protectively sheltering our Lord. Statues and images created since are unanimous in showing a close, obviously affectionate relationship between Jesus and St Joseph , a model father-son relationship of mutual devotion and respect. Yet it was not always so…
For much of Christian history, St Joseph has suffered an unfair press, especially in the West. One will notice that the feast of St Joseph in March is entirely lacking in traditional folklore and festivities. Although it was an observed part of the liturgical year, the only folkloric reference I’ve found to it in English tradition is in connection to the sort of weather rhyme which so typifies festivals preceding the spring equinox. Church devotions to St Joseph in medieval England are also surprisingly rare. The English liturgical calendar is interesting in the sense that it preserves a snapshot of medieval saint’s days as they stood on the eve of the Reformation. After this turmoil, though the observance of saint’s days in England persisted, the liturgical calendar became frozen. With the dubious exception of King Charles I, the Church of England has never attempted to unilaterally canonise any of its figures, and has not recognised the huge numbers of individuals canonised by the Catholic Church in the rest of Europe after the great schism. A telling fact is revealed about the importance of St Joseph to medieval Catholics by the reform of the liturgical year undertaken by Henry VIII before the protestant inspired reforms of his later reign. Englishmen of the early Sixteenth Centuries enjoyed an impressive ninety five religious feast days on which no work was allowed and many other minor holy days on which half a days work was the norm. By modern standards this would have added up to an equivalent of 120 days annual leave for the average oppressed English peasant, including Sundays of course, which were always a day of rest. The major feasts in question ranged from Christmas, at which time people usually had the full twelve days off work, to popular feast days such as Rogation Day, Assumption Day and Holy Rood Day, not to mention other, more dubious festivals such as that of the blatantly fictitious St Distaff (7th January). The corpulent ginger bearded tyrant narrowed the calendar down to around fifty major and minor holy days, along with others on which work was expected. The new slim look calendar retained the festivals of many obscure saints, but excluded that of Jesus’ Foster-father, a day that had only ever held minor-feast status. The conclusion is inescapable. St Joseph did not hold an important role in Catholic England. His cult only gained in importance in the Church after England had apostatised from the Catholic fold.
How can one explain the seemingly inexplicable obscurity of St Joseph in the pre-reformation West, and his subsequent rise to prominence as the archetype of the caring family man? Neither of Jesus’ earthly parents get much mention in the Bible, but where Mary was elevated by tradition into a central focus of mysticism and devotion, St Joseph was reduced to a side-actor in the gospel drama, or even an object of fun and ridicule. In the cultural golden age of the high-middle ages, Mystery Plays were enormously popular in England . Almost every major feast day hosted them, and special Gilds arose in many parishes and localities specifically to produce them during the annual cycle. St Joseph was well known for his role in the Christmas mystery play. Here he played the role of the comic relief. He was depicted as an elderly, affected Jew with grasping hands, hooked nose and flowing black robes. Somewhere between Fagin and Widow Twanky, St Joseph was a pantomime character, unable to accept the divine impregnation of his wife and the divine nature of his foster-son. This playhouse view of St Joseph was commonly accepted throughout the medieval west up to the Fifteenth Century. Even in the Christian East, where St Joseph had historically enjoyed wider veneration, he was often depicted in nativity icons as despondent and downhearted, a symbolic figure representing human doubt and incomprehension.
This all began to change in Fifteenth Century Spain, when St Joseph was bought on board as the poster child of the burgeoning reform movement. It is an unfortunate use of historical terminology that labels the “Reformation” as a purely protestant phenomena. The Protestant Reformation was a divisive, sporadic and generally destructive phase of cultural and spiritual vandalism that swept Northern Europe in the Sixteenth Century, inspired by a heretical reading of the works of St Augustine . Those outcomes deemed most positive about this movement, namely more widespread knowledge of the Bible and vernacular liturgy, both owed their origin not to Luther, but to another Reformation, one that began a century earlier and which never broke communion with the universal church. The movement of spiritual renewal which began in Fifteenth century Spain soon spread throughout the Church, and had its climax at the council of Trent in 1570. Among its first fruits was the famous Polyglot Bible, a triumph of renaissance scholarship that translated the entire Bible side by side in Greek, Latin & Hebrew. Across Europe , popular lay devotions began to take root. The rosary, Devotio Moderna and the Imitation Of Christ all owe their popularity to this spiritual flowering. Primers, missals, Bibles and prayer books in vernacular tongues, all impeccably orthodox in content, appeared in huge quantities all over Europe , hot from the new printing presses. In the great context of history, the Protestant reformation was a mere sideshow.
In Spain , St Joseph was taken as the symbol of this new, laity driven spiritual reform movement. The transformation of the saint from a clown-like mystery play character to model Christian male was no mean feat, and required a closely monitored publicity campaign. The Spanish crown threw itself energetically into its task. New images and statues of both St Joseph and the Holy Family were encouraged and new devotions commissioned. To serve the correct purpose, however, the new flowering of St Joseph images had to be tightly regulated. Gone were the depictions of a stereotypically Jewish Joseph with hooked nose, rabbinical garb and deep wrinkles. The new images of the saint were not permitted to be too old, lest they conform to the old comic-cuckold St Joseph . Nor could St Joseph be too young, lest he appeared inexperienced. St Joseph was to be repackaged as the ideal of rugged Christian manhood, a solidly working class saint who nevertheless combined chastity, piety and erudition with self-reliance and honest manual labour. Through the powerful advocacy of St Theresa of Avilla, one of the great undisputed matriarchs of Western Mysticism, Joseph also gained popular currency as a spiritual tutor and mystic guide, a saint whose intercession was to be highly valued. Over the course of the Sixteenth Century this new impression of St Joseph was to become the dominant one, replacing the old symbolism of theatrical buffoon in the West and deeply flawed symbol of human doubt in the East. The Counter-Reformation ensured that the new St Joseph became established as a much loved and honoured saint across Europe , a reputation a long-time in the making, and one which was richly deserved.




