Article Tools
- Text Size
- Add a comment (1)
- Print this article
- Email this article
About twelve years ago, St. Joseph came into my life in a new way. Not long before, I had taken the plunge from singlehood to married life, jumping into the deep end of the pool by marrying a widower with six children.
I was hardly a natural for the role of stepmother (just ask the children!). And though I was eager to play my part in this new family configuration, I felt overwhelmed and inclined to thoughts like, “Maybe Kevin should have married so-and-so—she’s wonderful with kids.”
It was a special grace when it dawned on me that Joseph of Nazareth probably understood exactly how I felt. After all, he not only sat across the dinner table from the Incarnate Word and the Immaculate Conception: He had to head the family they belonged to! Just maybe he hadn’t felt up to his role either.
Scripture doesn’t record a single word of Joseph’s, but as I reflected on Matthew 1 and 2, where he plays a major part, his silence spoke volumes. I noticed that he assumed his daunting family responsibilities with simple humility and faith in God’s wisdom, without fixating on his own inadequacies. I noticed that he was a doer who expressed his loving “yes” to God by his obedient actions.
The more I thought about Joseph and his uniquely challenging family situation, the more instructive I found it for my own. I have to admit I was surprised.
Learning from the Experts. Even lifelong Catholics like myself don’t usually think of turning to the saints when we need advice on parenting. They’re off our radar screen. Most were not married, after all. They nursed lepers and joyfully exchanged home comforts for missionary hardships, but did they ever struggle to keep a civil tongue after a night with a colicky infant or hours of carpooling? Did they ever agonize to see a son or daughter getting into drugs, bad friendships, and lifestyles that went against everything they had been taught?
Actually, yes. Some saints were married, with children. And some of those children gave their parents the kind of hard time you don’t usually associate with the haloed figures on holy cards.
Consider St. Elizabeth Seton. While her three daughters absorbed her values (and even followed her into religious life), Elizabeth’s two sons were a constant worry. “My greatest anxiety in life is my poor boys,” she confessed. And again: “My tears for them smart more and more day and night.” Elizabeth used her connections to get William and Richard launched in good careers, but they squandered the opportunity and embarrassed her in the process.
More than their failure to settle down, it was the state of her sons’ souls that Elizabeth agonized over. When they became sailors and wandered the world, she pursued them with letters encouraging them to turn to God. The letters often went unanswered, and both sons mostly neglected Elizabeth in her final years. If they made good later in life, she didn’t live to see it. Not for nothing is St. Elizabeth a model of the hoping-against-hope persistence every parent needs!
But while we may not often think about learning parenting skills from single people, some unmarried saints had a positive genius for working with kids. We shouldn’t leave their wisdom untapped. Others are credible teachers because they themselves started out rebellious and unruly; it can be instructive to look at how God’s grace overtook them. And finally, because all the saints had mothers and fathers, we can often glean practical lessons—both positive and negative —from their parent-child interactions.
Parents Concerned for Their Children. How do you extract and apply the saints’ practical wisdom? Simply keep an eye out for relevant facts and let them stimulate reflection about your family life. For example, here are a few “saintly facts” I’ve noticed, followed by the “practical application” thoughts they inspired.
St. Jane de Chantal’s four children loved to accompany her on visits to the poor and sick and felt grounded when they couldn’t go along. “They each had their task: Celse-Bénigne carried the bread, Marie-Aimée the medicine, and Françoise the money. Charlotte was too young to carry anything” (Wendy Leifeld, Mothers of the Saints). Challenge: How can I get the kids more involved in helping others—and make it enjoyable for them?
Thomas More encouraged his children to cultivate their minds. He introduced them to his learned friends, and—atypically for his time—insisted that his daughters receive as excellent an education as his sons (John F. Fink, Married Saints). Point for reflection: What practical steps can we take to help our children be eager learners? Are we setting a good example by continuing to stretch our own minds?
Louis and Zélie Martin, the parents of Thérèse of Lisieux, are candidates for canonization but were apparently not totally on top of everything at home. Their special-needs daughter, Léonie, went through a period of increasing rebellion, but not for quite some time did they uncover the reason: She was being secretly tyrannized and beaten by the family maid (Marie Baudouin-Croix, Léonie Martin: A Difficult Life). Sigh of relief: If I discover some disturbing development in a child’s life, I won’t automatically conclude that I’m a bad parent.
St. Monica tried for years to drill the Christian message into her son. But only when Augustine heard this very message from St. Ambrose did he find it credible (Leon Cristiani, Saint Monica and Her Son Augustine). Good resolution: Instead of acting irked when my children listen to others more readily than to me, I will rejoice for every good influence that comes their way.
Every now and then, the pope’s father, Karol Wojtyla, Sr., would roll up the living room carpet, push back the furniture, and join his son in a vigorous game of indoor soccer (Tad Szulc, Pope John Paul II). Insight: Maybe we should lighten up, forget the rules, and do something wild with the kids sometimes. Pillow fights, anyone?
Cloud of Witnesses. In choosing reading materials, look for biographies that highlight the saints’ personal relationship with God. Notice their great love for Jesus, not just their remarkable deeds or sufferings. Also look for a true-to-life, down-to-earth tone.
Reading about the saints should leave you feeling inspired, motivated, and encouraged in your own relationship with the Lord. While it may also convict you of being self-centered and lukewarm, it should do so in a way that inspires hope: “By God’s grace, maybe I can follow Jesus closely, too.”
This kind of hope is what I experience from my connection with St. Joseph. Under his gentle tutelage, I have come to embrace my stepmother role as a privileged calling, not a second-best alternative. His exemplary but nonbiological fatherhood of Jesus reminds me that love is the essential part of parenting and that it can bridge every gap in relationships. Whenever those gaps are bridged, I sense Joseph’s intercession.
Right now, St. Joseph and myriads of other saints are rooting for you and your family, too. Get to know them better—and get growing as a parent!
Louise Perrotta and her husband Kevin live in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
This is a very helpful article for parents like me who have 4 kids, short of 2 compared to Louise. :-)
The practical application and persevering act of studying the lives of the saints and Scriptures for that matter, will definitely be a great exercise to experience God’s grace and His Spirit to work in our lives as parents.
I agree with the Louie when she said, “...love is the essential part of parenting and that it can bridge every gap in relationships.” for that’s what moved God to send His Son to us that we might be redeemed.