A voice louder than any Herod
The Gospel of the Holy Family presents us with a very concrete scene: a family forced to flee to save a child. Joseph receives a message in a dream: “Rise, take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt.” That “get up”, in the original text, recalls the idea of awakening. It’s as if God were telling him: don’t let yourself be paralyzed by fear, react, guard the life entrusted to you.
Joseph’s faith was born like this: not from understanding everything, but from a small, decisive movement of the heart. The flight into Egypt is not an isolated episode. It is the very history of Israel who returns: even the people had known the threat, the exile and the protection of God. Jesus relives those stages from the beginning of his life. The Son of God enters our history not as a spectator, but from inside: experiences insecurity, hostility, precariousness. It is a strong message: God does not save us by staying away from problems, but by sharing our human condition to the full.
All the movements of this family – leaving, fleeing, returning, looking for a place to live – still speak today. There are families forced to leave their homeland by war or persecution; and there are families who do not move geographically, but still experience fatigue: instability at work, tensions in loved ones, illnesses, worries for their children, bereavements that leave you breathless.
The Holy Family is not an idealized image, but a traveling companion for those who experience difficult days. Their story says that God does not abandon those who go through the night, and that his protection often comes through simple gestures: a confident decision, a courageous stepa choice kept in silence. When Herod dies, Joseph finally hopes to return home. It is everyone’s desire: to stop, find stability, start again with serenity. But this project is also called into question: a new danger forces the family to change direction again. They eventually settle in Nazareth, a poor and hidden village. Yet right there Jesus will grow. It’s a valuable lesson: Peace is often found in places we didn’t expect, in the simplest and most hidden parts of life. At this point a question arises spontaneously: why don’t we receive dreams as clear as Joseph’s? In reality, as Christians we have an even greater gift: the Gospel. “Angel” and “Gospel”, in Greek, share the same root: both refer to the announcement. The angel brings a message; the Gospel is the message itself. But the Gospel has something more: the prefix eu- which means “good, beautiful”. It is the good news that illuminates life. What an angel could whisper to us in a dream, the Gospel offers us with greater clarity, while we are awake.
If welcomed every day, even for a few moments, the Gospel becomes a light that guides steps: in conflicts it opens up to reconciliation, in difficulties it invites to get back on the road, in daily hardships it gives a glimpse of broader horizons.
As long as we know how to let ourselves be guided by this Word and cherish the ability to dream, our hearts will remain young.
