Holy Family: Jesus the Migrant-Refugee in a Marital Refugee Camp
Sirach 3:2–6, 12–14 ; Colossians 3:12–21; Matthew 2:13–15, 19–23
We are schooled to think that migration means crossing rivers, seas, deserts, and borders; that migration means leaving one land for another in search of life – greener pastures. We often associate such migrants with refugee status. The life of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph changes this narrow conception of migration and refugee status. Today, however, one of the most demanding and misunderstood migrations is no longer geographic. It is marital. Marriage has become our new migration. To marry is to leave—just as surely as Abraham left Ur, just as Israel left Egypt, just as the Holy Family fled to Egypt and later returned home, as we often return home for Christmas. Scripture already names it clearly: “A man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife.” Leaving is the first verb of marriage. Before love builds, it uproots. Before communion forms, separation happens. Marriage begins with displacement.
Refugees and migrants, then, are not necessarily those who escaped from oppression and crossed lands and seas to seek refuge far from home and all that is familiar, they can be seekers of love and family—marriage. Those born into broken relationships who seek to build better ones themselves, or those who have experienced love and want to spread it to others in a marriage covenant.
Today, as we celebrate the Holy Family, we discover something profound: marriage is our new migration. It is no longer borders and passports that define the deepest human journey, but the decision to leave what is familiar in order to build life with another. We celebrate Jesus, who takes leave of Heaven and comes upon earth as a migrant in the family of Mary and Joseph to teach humanity the meaning of love and family.
Scripture says: “A man shall leave his father and mother.” Leaving is the first movement of marriage. Before love settles, it uproots. Before communion forms, displacement occurs. Marriage begins not with arrival but with departure; this is why marriage feels risky today. It demands crossing from “me” to “we,” from self-protection to vulnerability, from options to commitment. Like every migrant, the married person enters unfamiliar territory—new languages such as forgiveness and patience, new customs such as compromise and endurance, and a new economy based not on profit, but on sacrifice.
In today’s Gospel, Joseph’s love for Mary does not lead him to comfort, but to journeys: Nazareth to Bethlehem, Bethlehem to Egypt, exile back to Israel. None of these were written into his expectations. Marriage did not stabilize his life; it destabilized it. Loving Mary meant migrating—again and again. God enters this migration not as a conqueror, but as a child. God chooses vulnerability. God chooses dependence. God chooses to be carried, protected, and hidden. Like love itself, God becomes fragile. And Mary and Joseph—this family—become guardians of God. A marriage becomes a family when love turns into sacrifice, when God has a place in it.
The Holy Family shows us that where love is lived faithfully, God is present. God took the very first risk in loving humanity by creating us. And to be close to us, God became human, became a child and became a member of a family. By doing so, God became a member of every family.
Yet love is fragile. And so God, in the child Jesus, must flee from Herod. God becomes a migrant. God knows exile. God knows displacement no thanks to Herod’s threats of extermination! Even today, many metaphoric “Herods” rule our marital world threatening to put it asunder—pornography, materialism, and promiscuity—creating instability, fears and divorce in marriages.
The uncertainty of migration is like the risk of loving and founding a family. The journey from God into the world. The search for dignity, stability, and a future for those we love. All these journeys carry a cost—the price of love. But Sirach reminds us that the sacrifice of marriage is worth it because life itself is the greatest gift. Parenthood is God’s confirmation that love bears fruit. “God sets a father in honor over his children; a mother’s authority he confirms over her sons and daughters.” Honor flows from sacrifice. Love always returns to its giver. The hidden labor of parents becomes blessing for generations yet unborn. Children who honor their parents participate in this divine circulation of grace: “When they pray, they are heard.”
If Jesus begins as a child at the heart of the Holy Family, he does not remain an infant forever. He must grow. And so must love. If our families are to resemble the Holy Family, love must mature—through patience, forgiveness, and endurance. As Saint Paul tells us, marriage is a school of virtue (1 Cor 13). Only those who persevere graduate into holiness.
For all those whose marriages are wounded, for widows and widowers, for divorcees, for families under strain—today is your day. God has not abandoned you. He still walks your journey. He still sends you angels to encourage you. Remain with your one wife, your one husband, and your children. Let love migrate, mature, and make a home.
And may God bless your family and make it a holy family. Amen.
Assignment for the Week:
Pray for fidelity and perseverance in marital life.