St. Joseph: Master of the Interior Life
By Jessica Santulli
The man who says nothing in the Bible perhaps speaks the loudest of all the saints. He is still speaking through his intercession in the lives of those living on earth. In Scripture, we are told of people’s words to him, but never of his verbal responses. It’s clear, Saint Joseph’s actions spoke louder than his words, and I am beginning to understand why St. Josemaría Escrivá called him the “Master of the interior life.”
A few months after Pope Francis’ declaration of the Year of Saint Joseph, a friend and I led a group of young adults in a 33-day consecration to Saint Joseph. We journeyed through Father Donald Calloway’s book, Consecration to St. Joseph: The Wonders of Our Spiritual Father*, which opened my eyes to the interior trials St. Joseph must have gone through due to his love for Jesus and Mary. From his yes to taking Mary as his wife after she was found with child to leading his family into Egypt to protect them from Herod, from hearing the mysterious words of Simeon’s prophecy about Jesus’ destiny to the anxiety of temporarily losing Jesus in Jerusalem, he was called not only to be guardian and protector of this holy family but also to exhibit immense faith. Father Calloway notes that “no martyr’s blood can ever compare to the sacrificial love that the father of Jesus offered for so many years.” Saint Joseph taught me that interior trials can help lead one to holiness. His example became like a balm to my aching heart that faced many interior trials this past year.
Enduring trials for the sake of love
Though I have undergone nothing so great as a martyr’s torture or death, I’ve experienced some painful physical and spiritual trials nonetheless. For a time, I doubted the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. I thought that receiving the Eucharist would heal me of my chronic stomach problems, but I observed that many physically sick people do not get healed after consuming the Blessed Sacrament––including myself. I was not cured of my condition after receiving the Eucharist, and this led me to wonder how the host could truly be the flesh of Christ Jesus.
When I was able to accept that I might not be healed through the Eucharist, I finally started to make progress. I began attending daily Mass with an openness to receive His love. I imagined myself bringing an empty jar to the table of the Lord, ready to let it be filled to capacity with grace. Little by little, I learned that Jesus was there waiting for me, wanting to heal my soul and my relationship with Him. My relationship with Him became more important than my physical healing. Now, healing began to flow from His infinite streams of grace anyway; the Lord was generously granting me a new heart and renewed health.
But the trials didn’t end there. When I finally came to believe that Jesus is physically present in the Eucharist with my whole being, my stomach problems and nausea returned in full force. During this time, the father of lies tried to get inside my head to prevent me from receiving the Eucharist. I would feel nauseous every time I got into the Communion line in fear that I would vomit after receiving Christ. At one point in late October, I actually left the Communion line before receiving, sidestepped the priest, and walked out the door.
I remember where I was the day before Pope Francis dedicated this year to St. Joseph. I was at the Vigil Mass for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, sitting in the pew with minutes to go before Mass began. My nausea was so tremendous that I walked out of the church and left.
The following morning, December 8, 2020, I returned to the same church to try again. Nausea persisted throughout the Gospel, and I was about to leave Mass during the homily. It was then that the priest’s words cut through my thoughts. He was talking about how Mary’s “yes” to God was far from robotic; rather, she was the most free of God’s creatures because her consent was not driven by fear. As the priest boldly stated, “So often we are driven by fear,” I heard God loud and clear as He whispered to me, “Will you stay here for me?”
I remained at Mass and waited out the nausea. By the grace of God—and I am sure with the silent intercession of St. Joseph—I received the Eucharist that day. This was my first reception of the Eucharist in the Year of St. Joseph.
That day, St. Joseph’s intercession pointed me to his beloved wife, Mary, so that I might model her loyalty and receptivity to God. Mary’s fearless fiat helped me endure to the end of Mass, leading me to her Son, Jesus, in the Eucharist.
Reflecting on St. Joseph’s example has taught me about enduring trials for the sake of love. Father Calloway notes this statement from St. Peter Julian Eymard:
We may well call St. Joseph the martyr of the hidden life, for no one ever suffered as he did…the holier a person is, the more he must suffer for the love and glory of God…It is a truth then that the more a soul loves, the more it suffers. That is why St. Joseph’s Cavalry lasted thirty years with no respite whatsoever.
During the 33-day consecration, St. Joseph showed me in a profound way that he understands what I am going through. The man who faithfully loved and protected his beloved family, I have now taken as my primary spiritual father and intercessor, after the Blessed Mother herself. He helped me face my biggest fear—being separated from Jesus in the Eucharist—and emerge victorious. When trials befall me, I now turn to St. Joseph for aid. He can help me accept suffering and not turn from it, to face it with trust and not fear.
Saint Joseph is truly the “Master of the interior life” because he embraced everything God gave him, both joys and trials. When God entrusted him with the Divine Child and the Immaculate Conception, his response was simple: he loved until death. He showed the Christ Child how to give over his life in service to the Father’s will. I pray that Saint Joseph will teach me to do the same.
Saint Joseph, pray for us!
*I highly recommend Fr. Calloway’s book, especially during this Year of St. Joseph. Find Consecration to St. Joseph: The Wonders of Our Spiritual Father here.
