THE FEAST OF THE HOLY FAMILY

Second Reading: Colossians 3:12-21
Gospel: Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

OPENING (2-3 minutes)

My brothers and sisters, I wonder if you've ever had one of those moments where family life feels completely overwhelming. Maybe it's the phone call in the middle of the night. The job loss that changes everything. The illness no one saw coming. The conflict that seems impossible to resolve.

I was visiting a young couple in the parish last week—a third child just born, barely making ends meet, and the husband just found out his company is downsizing. The wife looked at me with exhausted eyes and said, "Father, we're trying to be a holy family, but honestly? Right now we're just trying to survive."

That stayed with me. Because here we are celebrating the Feast of the Holy Family, and what does the Gospel show us? Not the Holy Family sitting peacefully around a warm fire in Nazareth. Instead, we see them fleeing in the middle of the night as refugees, running for their lives from a murderous king. We see them displaced in Egypt, foreigners in a strange land. We see them uncertain, afraid, making their way through darkness with only faith to guide them.

The Holy Family wasn't holy because they were spared from suffering. They were holy because of how they lived through it.

ILLUMINATION (3-4 minutes)

Let's look more closely at this Gospel, because Matthew is doing something profound here. Three times an angel appears to Joseph in a dream—"Rise, take the child and his mother and flee... Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel... Go to the land of Galilee." And each time, what does Joseph do? He rises. He obeys. He protects his family. No arguments, no bargaining with God, no "But Lord, we just settled in Bethlehem!"

Matthew is showing us Joseph as the new patriarch, echoing another Joseph who long ago went down to Egypt and saved his family from destruction. But there's more. Matthew quotes Hosea: "Out of Egypt I called my son." Israel came out of Egypt in the Exodus. Now the true Israel—Jesus himself—comes out of Egypt. The Holy Family is reliving the entire story of salvation, and they're doing it in their own flesh and blood.

Saint John Chrysostom noticed something beautiful here. He said the Holy Family's poverty and suffering sanctified the ordinary struggles that every family endures. By their exile, our displacements are blessed. By their fear, our anxieties find companionship. By their uncertainty, our confusion is embraced by God.

And look how this connects with our other readings. Sirach tells us: "Those who honor their father atone for sins, and those who respect their mother are like people storing up treasure." Paul writes to the Colossians about compassion, kindness, humility, bearing with one another, forgiving one another. These aren't just nice ideas. They're the very fabric that held the Holy Family together when everything else was falling apart.

When Mary and Joseph fled to Egypt, they couldn't control Herod. They couldn't fix the political situation. They couldn't make the journey safe. But they could choose how to treat each other. They could choose patience in uncertainty, kindness under pressure, forgiveness when fear made them irritable. They could honor the bonds that mattered most.

PASTORAL APPLICATION (3-4 minutes)

So what does this mean for us, for our families today?

First, it means we need to let go of the fantasy of the perfect family. You know the one I mean—the family that never argues, never struggles, never doubts, where everyone prays together in perfect harmony and the children are always obedient. That family doesn't exist. It never has. Even the Holy Family faced crisis, displacement, and fear.

Your family doesn't need to be perfect to be holy. It needs to be faithful.

Maybe you're in a difficult marriage right now, and you've been thinking, "This isn't what I signed up for." Look at Joseph and Mary, fleeing in the night. That wasn't what they signed up for either. But holiness isn't found in perfect circumstances. It's found in choosing love when love is hard.

Maybe you're caring for aging parents, and it's draining you in ways you never expected. Listen again to Sirach: "My son, support your father in his old age, do not grieve him during his life. Even if his mind fails, be considerate of him." This is sacred work. When you help your father to the bathroom, when you patiently repeat yourself to your mother for the fifth time, you're not just performing a duty—you're storing up treasure in heaven.

Maybe you're a parent feeling like you're failing because your kids aren't turning out the way you hoped, or they've walked away from the faith. Remember: Joseph didn't know how the story would end. He didn't flee to Egypt with certainty that everything would work out. He just took the next faithful step. Sometimes that's all we can do—take the next faithful step, trust God with the outcome, and refuse to give up on love.

Or perhaps you're someone who didn't grow up in a loving family, and these readings sting a little. Let me say this clearly: the Holy Family doesn't exclude you. It embraces you. Because the Church—this family, gathered around this altar—this is your family too. Every person in this church who is trying to live with compassion, kindness, and humility becomes part of your family in Christ. You belong here.

And for all of us, whatever our family situation, Saint Paul gives us the practical tools: "Put on heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience." Notice these aren't feelings—they're decisions. They're choices we make each day, each moment. When your spouse says something hurtful, you choose patience. When your child disappoints you, you choose kindness. When your parent frustrates you, you choose compassion.

And above all, Paul says, "put on love." Love is the belt that holds everything together. Not romantic feeling, but sacrificial choice. The kind of love that gets up in the middle of the night when an angel says "flee"—or when a baby cries, or when someone needs you.

CLOSING INVITATION (1-2 minutes)

My brothers and sisters, in a few moments we'll come to this altar to receive the Eucharist—the very Body and Blood of the Child that Mary and Joseph protected in their flight to Egypt. The same Jesus who lived as part of a human family comes to us now to nourish our families.

So here's my invitation to you this week: Ask the Holy Family to be present in one specific difficulty you're facing at home. Maybe it's a conversation you've been avoiding. Maybe it's forgiveness you need to extend. Maybe it's patience you need to practice, or honor you need to show.

Don't try to fix everything. Just bring one thing to the Holy Family and say: "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you know what it's like to be a family under pressure. Help me take the next faithful step."

And then, trust. Trust like Joseph trusted, rising in the darkness without seeing the full path ahead. Because the same God who guided the Holy Family through danger and brought them safely home is the same God who walks with your family today.

Let us continue now with faith and hope, offering our families—with all their imperfections and struggles—to the One who makes all things holy.