A first-century Jewish man known as Joseph of Nazareth became a global legend without uttering a single word on the record. I think it’s important to mention that upfront, so it doesn’t trip you up later.

In the Bible, Joseph is virtually invisible. The New Testament contains only a few references to his unique responsibility as the legal father of Jesus, and in those passages, Joseph does not speak.

According to Christian literature, “Joseph accepted his subsidiary role.” But was it subsidiary? Or just painted that way?

In The Adoration of the Magi by the restlessly imaginative Dutch artist Hieronymus Bosch, Mary sits outside a dilapidated barn, holding Baby Jesus on her lap. Three foreign dignitaries offer gifts to the newborn.

Behind the barn, farmers jostle for a look at the elegant visitors. Even the Antichrist shows up. That’s him in the doorway, looking like he just stepped out of a Super Bowl halftime show.

In the middle distance, a man is guiding his donkey toward a house identified by a red flag, indicating it may be a brothel. Look closer and you’ll see that a monkey is riding the donkey. I suspect there’s a metaphor lurking in there somewhere, but with Bosch I can never be certain.

Meanwhile, down in the valley, Herod’s army continues to hunt for the baby boy whose celestial birth announcement unnerved the Judean king.

So, where exactly is Joseph?

On the left panel of this triptych (three-panel painting), the wealthy man who commissioned the work is kneeling in front of Saint Peter, who is holding the keys to heaven. Back in the shadows, Joseph is warming the new baby’s diapers by a fire.

Renaissance artists often kept Joseph in the shadows to keep the spotlight on the miraculous birth of Jesus.

Occasionally, he was used as scriptural comic relief. In The Rest on the Flight into Egypt, one of Gerard David’s loveliest paintings, Joseph is relegated to the background, where he is knocking chestnuts from a tree for the journey ahead.

In Nativity, the new dad is huddled on the ground, cooking a pot of porridge. Back in the barn, an ox and a donkey exchange knowing looks. Even animals recognize an offbeat representation of Joseph’s humanity when they see one.

The artist, Conrad von Soest, portrays Joseph as an older man whose white hair and white beard are visual shorthand for “this man is not the biological father of Jesus.”

I’m always struck by the variety of Josephs in art: at times elderly to the point of doddering, at other times young and vigorous, on some occasions industrious, yet often depicted fast asleep.

Elizabeth Lev, “The Silent Knight,” 2021

Was Joseph an old man when he married?

It’s not likely. In the New Testament, Joseph goes on a physically demanding journey of a thousand miles to protect his earthly son and postpartum wife from King Herod’s death squads.

Also, Joseph was a carpenter, a job that demands strength and agility, especially when assigned to one of the king’s huge construction projects.

Joseph probably worked with crews of men. They commuted together to sites by walking, perhaps for miles. The worksites were noisy, and the work was demanding on both muscle and mind.

Mike Aquilina, “St. Joseph and His World,” 2020

If the New Testament is our guide, Joseph was a young man when he married. Moreover, he placed great importance on work as a fundamental part of human dignity.

Joseph steps out of the shadows

During the 17th century’s emotionally exuberant Baroque period, which is closely associated with the Catholic Counter-Reformation, artists began to portray Joseph in tender father-son moments.

Italian artist Guido Reni depicts Joseph as an older man discovering the wonders of fatherhood for the first time in St. Joseph Cradling the Infant Christ. Notably, Mary and the angel Gabriel are placed in the shadows.

In contrast, Spanish artist Bartolomé Esteban Murillo portrays Joseph as a young man scanning the horizon for threats to his family. In Saint Joseph and the Christ Child, Jesus leans on his dad and makes eye contact with the viewer. What is the little one trying to tell us? That he personally chose Joseph, of all the men in the world, to be his earthly guardian?

Joseph sails to the Americas

Also during the 17th century, King Charles II named Joseph the patron saint of the Spanish empire. Soon missionaries were bringing even more pictures of Joseph to South America, Mexico, and Canada to win over Catholic converts.

Inspired by these European paintings, the Cuzco School of artists in Peru created a bold new look for Joseph. It’s a happy fusion of Old World technique and indigenous tradition that features bright colors (especially red and yellow), regional symbolism, and lavish use of gold leaf.

In Saint Joseph and the Christ Child, the matching father-son gowns represent Cumbi cloth, a luxurious fabric reserved for Inca kings and queens. Jesus’s cute red sandals also echo those worn by royalty. At the same time, he’s carrying a wicker basket full of carpentry tools that extol the virtue of honest labor.

If the co-stars in this painting look a little flat, it’s because not every indigenous artist was enamored with chiaroscuro and linear perspective, two volume-creating techniques invented in Europe.

Still, I can see Murillo’s influence in this tender portrayal of a father and son walking hand in hand through the lush Peruvian countryside.

A rare glimpse into Joseph’s workshop

The son of a barber, Bartolomé Esteban Murillo was a gifted storyteller who became the most popular religious painter in Spain. His pictures create an extraordinary interaction between the surface of the canvas and the viewer.

In The Holy Family with a Little Bird, Murillo offers a rare look inside Joseph’s workshop. Mary is busy winding a skein of thread. On the workbench, Joseph appears to be building a double ox yoke to help oxen work together in pairs.

Mom and dad pause to watch their son tease the family dog by holding a goldfinch high above it. The diagonal composition leads the eye to Joseph, who is pointing out Fido’s laudable patience.

This could be any couple experiencing the joys of co-parenting.

The question of race in religious paintings

Since the Middle Ages, Joseph and his family were portrayed with fair skin, as if they were of European descent. In fact, they were Jewish peasants.

In The Holy Family, American artist Janet McKenzie addresses the question of race in religious paintings.

McKenzie shows us a family who has African features or perhaps Mexican or Peruvian features. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph did not look like this. But it is a wonderful equivalence, forcing us to recognize both the differences and the similarities. We are compelled to think again and to look twice. 

Art historian Wendy Becket, “America Magazine,” 2010

McKenzie’s unusual shades of violet, rose, and lavender create a feeling of understated dignity. “She also makes it clear that this is a family unit,” adds Becket. “Joseph shares equal responsibility for raising this child.”

Is this what non-toxic masculinity looks like?

The Bible reveals very little about the inner lives of its characters. Yet, somehow it communicates everything we need to know.

Joseph accepted the hardships that came his way. And he protected his family with a calm readiness that is rare, even among history’s heroes.

While I was looking at paintings of Saint Joseph, author Christine Emba was writing about toxic masculinity and the identity crisis affecting young men. Her Washington Post column attracted so many comments, WaPo published a follow-up: “Who is an ideal man? Our readers have thoughts.”

This reply caught my eye:

If young men are wondering what good masculinity looks like these days, a decent place to start is by learning the skills that allow you to advocate for others.

If you’re really strong and smart, you will garner enough power, influence, and kindness to begin protecting others. That’s it. Full stop. Real men protect other people.

NYU professor Scott Galloway, host of the Prof G podcast, 2023

Postscript: If you happen to be in Amsterdam…

Explore Hieronymus Bosch: Secret Signs at Vincent Hall in Amsterdam now thru June 14, 2026. This immersive experience presents animated digital projections of Bosch’s remarkably detailed artworks. Click the link for details.