A Brief Meditation on Joseph and Mary

I grew up in Northwest Missouri, in a town called Maryville, not far from a larger town called St. Joseph. Here's a quick reflection on those places' namesakes.

I am not an expert on the ancient world, but I grew up in rural Missouri, can read, and have an imagination.

I like to think of Joseph as the house-building kind of carpenter and not the kind who just did neat looking tables as a side gig.

I like to think of Mary as a gardener. I imagine you might grow your own food when you could, that not everything was traded, and that the house and grounds needed to look all right for souls to magnify the Lord.

Jesus knew, therefore, what he was talking about when he talked about seeds and building houses. And that wisdom didn’t come from some universal mystery, but from a lot of experience with dirt and sawdust.

Your wisdom comes from such places. 

And therefore the kindom of God is like a firecracker,
a stray cat,
neighbor boys,
falling off a bike,
street protests,
drug addicts,
pretty people at summer camp,
painting where you shouldn’t,
laying concrete,
made-up songs,
and whatever it is you bring with you.