I’ve been mulling this item since Monday of the third week of Lent. But on the Feast of Saint Joseph, a posting on Catholic Insight gave me the title and neatly summarized the theme I am trying to express: “Ordinary Joes”. It was applied in that posting to the very least ordinary of Joes, but author April St. Martin had a point: our job in this life is to play the role that is assigned to us, no matter what it is, great or small, in devout keeping with the virtues of faith and deep humility. READ REFLECTION HERE [CTA Button/Link to full reflection on website]
If we do that, who knows what God might be able to accomplish through us?
The reading on that Monday was from the Second book of Kings (2 Kings 5:1-15):
Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favour with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy.
Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. And the king of Aram said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.”
He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.”
When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.” But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.”
So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage.
But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?”
So Namaan went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.
Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.
Now, in this passage, at least seven people are mentioned. Several are both named and quoted, including a king, a military commander, and a prophet. The great points we are apparently meant to take away from the passage are the saving faith and humility of the great commander before people he had helped to conquer; and the casual yet exquisitely faithful disdain of the prophet, who declined to meet face to face with the foreign conqueror even while arranging his cure.
But who is the real hero of this story, the one without whom nothing would have come to pass except the ultimate demise of Naaman through leprosy? Of all these characters, who is it that displays the greatest humility? Who acts in the spirit of deepest, cheerful faith, despite what might seem like compelling reasons to rebel?
The behavior of the “young girl taken captive from the land of Israel,” who served Naaman’s wife, has always struck me as astonishing.
It seems highly probable that this young lady’s introduction to the family she served involved the slaughter or enslavement of her own family, or at the very least her involuntary separation from the home, her neighbours, and the land in which she had been born, not to mention the loss of her own life’s freedom. Yet from all appearances, she cheerfully stepped up to aid her oppressor, the conqueror of her people, in his need. Far beyond the virtue of stooping to the level of the beaten in order to obtain a cure, or of deigning to cure an enemy without the inconvenience of meeting him face to face, this strikes me as turning the other cheek, going the extra mile, and adding tunic to cloak as mentioned later on the Mount of Beatitudes.
As April St. Martin explains, holiness seems less often to be tied up with the things we say, the preaching we do, than with the actions we elect to undertake: simply serving in the capacity and the circumstances that God has placed before us. Sometimes that involves the freedom to make choices; other times not. Joseph the son of Jacob served his oppressors faithfully, and thereby was enabled to rescue his entire nation; Joseph the foster-father of Our Lord showed up, obeyed, protected, and worked, and thereby was enabled to facilitate the coming and the mission of the Messiah. How many porters and doorkeepers have served their way to sainthood? The unnamed girl of 2nd Kings 5 faithfully shared the Good News of God and his prophets with those she was compelled to serve, without apparently seeking any quid pro quo.
In our own lives, we can seek opportunities for simple, quiet service by accepting the families, the homes, the work, and all the other circumstances God has provided for us. And we can usually do more than that, without a great deal of trouble: in a spirit of proper stewardship, we can invest a little of the time that God has entrusted to us in humble contributions to the building of his Kingdom.
For example, we can take the time to pray, to educate ourselves, and to vote, when the time comes, with the good of everyone in mind; and we can take the time to get to know those we’ve elected to serve us, and attempt to prompt them into setting policies based on values of virtue.
It doesn’t seem like a lot, compared to what was asked of Saint Joseph or the young saint-girl of 2nd Kings. April St. Martin put it very well:
“It made me realize that holiness isn’t about being seen or recognized, but about being faithful in what you’ve been given.”
Just think: if we do that, if we faithfully use all the time, talent, that are given to us, in the circumstances that are given to us, for God’s purposes, what great things might God accomplish through us?




In the first installment of a series of Rosary reflections highlighting the 
