Dear Our Lady of Ransom Family,
 
Joseph is one of a few saints who get more than one feast day during the year. Today is the celebration of  St. Joseph the Worker. Established by Pope Pius XII to give workers a patron and model, this celebration shines light upon the great dignity of human work. As a laborer, Joseph used skill and toil to care for the needs of the Holy Family and for anyone who made use of his services. He brought order to the world and provided assistance to many. That is a great gift that he gave, the same type of gift that is offered by anyone who labors.
 
In reflecting on this feast day, I can’t help but think of those whose jobs have been severely impacted by the current situation. Millions in the United States alone have  been furloughed or lost their job. For those suffering from this experience, there is a two-fold fear. The first is obvious: Fear of not being able to provide for themselves and their families. On this front, we are trying to help where we can with our increasingly limited parish resources. I promise that as long as the Lord provides  Ransom Responds with resources, we will continue to give food and supplies to  anyone, free of charge, Catholic or not, no questions asked, as often as they need. 
 
However, the second fear that can come with losing a job is no less real. In fact, it might be more dangerous because it is subtle, usually remaining far from our consciousness and, therefore, rarely addressed. In a world that has been wounded by original sin, there is a tendency to  define ourselves by what we do. This usually isn’t a conscious choice we make, but it is nonetheless a powerful lie we believe. The tragedy is that when “what we do” disappears – because of a loss of job, a change in health, or some other circumstance often beyond our control – our self-identity can be gravely wounded. I’ve experienced this firsthand. The 5-year-old Matt Bozovsky wanted to be a scientist, and everything was directed towards that end as I built my entire identity and worldview on that foundation. Because of that, when I was 29 years old, having just returned to the Catholic Church and walking away from a career as a human geneticist to enter the seminary, I was forced into a gut-wrenching process of rediscovering who I was, one that would take years to settle into. Once “what I did,” my mission, changed, a deep fear gripped me. Why? I had gotten the order wrong – I lived my life believing my mission defined my identity. I had forgotten (well, never really knew) a great truth of Christianity:
 
We are not defined by our work. 
 
We are not defined by our circumstances.
 
Our identity doesn’t come from what we do, it comes from a relationship. It flows from being created in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:27) and through our shared and common baptism that makes us beloved sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father. The core of who we are has  nothing to do with what we do. At the very center of our lives is a relationship with God. Our identity is formed  as a result of that relationship and then,  and only then, does our mission take shape and proper focus. Relationship leading to identity leading to mission – that is the order it  should be in. That is the order it  must be in.
 
For a majority of people in the West, we focus our lives on what we do and our mission. It is from there we find our identity, leading to personal development that looks like:
 
Mission --> Identity --> Relationship 
 
That is the disordered order that a broken world tends towards. 
 
This, dear brothers and sisters, is the path that leads to a culture who values life only insofar as it is valuable, productive, or “wanted.” Does work have great dignity? Yes! But it is not the dignity of work that gives us our identity; it is our identity as beloved sons and daughters of our Most High Father that gives dignity to work. From the very moment of conception, the human soul – before he or she can “do” anything – is called into relationship with a God who so earnestly desires that we be drawn into His loving embrace that He goes to death and back.
 
Relationship --> Identity --> Mission
 
That is the pattern that a healthy life must follow. 
 
Friends, do you see the beauty of this? When we start with our relationship with God, we start with something that can never be lost! This is why we should shout out, making the words of St. Paul our own: “I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39). Amen? Amen!!*
 
No matter what the world throws at us, no matter what our struggles, that relationship is always there, patiently waiting for us to become aware of it. And then, once we do, our identity will never be in question, because we will live with absolute confidence that we are a beloved child of the Father. We will know that, in the end, we are  not a waiter or waitress, a nurse or doctor, a contractor or builder – we will boldly lay claim to the heavenly identity that is ours as beloved sons and daughters of God. From there, we can allow our mission to grow and change, confident that it will be built upon a firm foundation, confident in who we are. 
 The most important thing about Joseph wasn’t his work – it was his  relationship with Jesus. It was from that relationship that his  identity was founded, only from that wellspring that his work and  mission flowed. The more in touch with that reality  we become, the more we will experience our identity as beloved children of the Father. 
 
Whether you have lost your job or simply feel lost because you have nothing to “do,” press into that relationship that you have with the Lord. I promise you, there you  will find what you long for; there you  will find food that satisfies the hunger of your heart; there you  will find a deep and powerful experience of love and purpose. The more you know Our Heavenly Father, the more you will see yourself through His eyes, the eyes of a Father who looks upon you, smiling, as He says, “This is my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased!” 
 
- Fr. Matt Bozovsky