Catholic Commentary
The Praise of Josiah
1The memory of Josiah is like the composition of incense prepared by the work of the perfumer. It will be sweet as honey in every mouth, and like music at a banquet of wine.2He did what was right in the reforming of the people, and took away the abominations of iniquity.3He set his heart right toward the Lord. In lawless days, he made godliness prevail.
A king's holiness is not measured by the laws he passes but by the fragrance his life leaves behind—and the interior heart that made those laws possible.
In this opening of Sirach's "Praise of the Ancestors" epilogue, Ben Sira singles out King Josiah (r. 640–609 BC) with a lyrical tribute comparing his memory to fragrant incense and sweet music. The three verses move from sensory praise (v. 1) to a summary of his reforming deeds (v. 2) to the interior disposition that made those deeds possible (v. 3). Together they present Josiah as the paradigm of a ruler whose holiness was both personal and public, liturgical and legislative.
Verse 1 — "The memory of Josiah is like the composition of incense..."
Ben Sira opens not with a catalogue of deeds but with a sensory image: memory as fragrance. The word translated "composition" (synagōgē in Greek; the Hebrew Vorlage likely used miqaḥ or a cognate of roqaḥ, the perfumer's art) points to the careful, skilled blending of spices used in sacred Temple incense (cf. Ex 30:34–38). This is not ordinary smell but liturgical fragrance — the incense that rose before the Holy of Holies. By invoking this image first, Ben Sira situates Josiah's legacy firmly within the sphere of Israel's worship. His life, like the incense, was a composed thing, deliberately ordered toward God.
The second half of the verse shifts from smell to taste and then to sound: "sweet as honey in every mouth, and like music at a banquet of wine." The triple sensory register (smell, taste, hearing) is not mere rhetorical flourish. It signals that the memory of a righteous king permeates the whole of human experience, penetrating both the intimacy of personal recollection and the communal joy of celebration. The banquet image anticipates the messianic feast motif found throughout prophetic literature (Is 25:6), subtly elevating Josiah's legacy into an eschatological register.
Verse 2 — "He did what was right in the reforming of the people, and took away the abominations of iniquity."
Ben Sira now grounds the lyrical praise in historical fact. The "reforming of the people" (epistrophē tou laou) refers directly to the great cultic reformation Josiah undertook after the discovery of the Book of the Law (2 Kgs 22–23; 2 Chr 34–35). He demolished the high places, smashed the Asherah poles, desecrated the altars of Baal and Molech, and reinstated the Passover on a scale not seen since the judges. The "abominations of iniquity" (bdelygmata anomias) is a compound phrase echoing Deuteronomic language for foreign cult objects and idolatrous practices — the very things that had brought Israel to the edge of divine judgment.
The verb "took away" (exēren) is an active, forceful term. Ben Sira does not present Josiah as a passive reformer who merely permitted change; he was an agent who removed what was corrupt. This is significant: the praise of Josiah is, implicitly, a theology of holy authority — that civil and religious power can and must be exercised in service of purification.
Verse 3 — "He set his heart right toward the Lord. In lawless days, he made godliness prevail."
Catholic tradition illuminates this passage from several converging angles.
The Interior Life as the Root of Reform. The Catechism of the Catholic Church insists that the moral life begins in the heart: "The heart is the dwelling-place where I am, where I live... the heart is the place of truth" (CCC 2563). Verse 3's emphasis that Josiah "set his heart right" before reforming the nation embodies this principle precisely. True reform — liturgical, social, or political — is impossible without prior interior conversion. St. Augustine's Confessions makes the same argument from personal experience: "Our heart is restless until it rests in Thee" (I.1). Josiah's rightly ordered heart is a concrete historical instantiation of this theological truth.
The Sanctification of Memory and the Communion of Saints. Ben Sira's entire "Praise of the Ancestors" (Sir 44–50) is, in embryonic form, what the Church developed into the theology of the Communion of Saints. The Council of Trent affirmed that it is "good and useful" to invoke the saints and venerate their memory (Session 25). Verse 1's celebration of Josiah's memory as fragrant and enduring is not mere nostalgia; it is a theological act — the recognition that the righteous dead remain instructive and present to the living community. Pope Benedict XVI, in Spe Salvi (§48), wrote of how the saints "go before us" and their lives remain a "source of courage."
The Role of Authority in Holiness. Verse 2 implicitly endorses the legitimate exercise of religious authority in purifying public life — a principle affirmed by Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes (§76), which holds that while Church and state are distinct, those in authority bear a responsibility to order common life toward authentic human flourishing. Josiah's removal of "abominations" is a model of this principle in action.
Incense as Liturgical Theology. The incense image of v. 1 connects to the Church's ongoing liturgical use of incense as a sign of prayer ascending to God (cf. Ps 141:2; Rev 8:4). The General Instruction of the Roman Missal (§276) prescribes incense as a sign of honor and sacrifice. To compare a holy life to incense is to say it is, in its entirety, a form of worship — an idea central to St. Paul's call to offer one's body as a "living sacrifice" (Rom 12:1).
This passage confronts contemporary Catholics with a quietly radical question: What will the memory of my life smell like? Ben Sira's incense image is not about posthumous fame but about whether a life, faithfully lived, leaves behind a fragrance that draws others toward God.
In an age of institutional scandal and public cynicism about religious leadership, Verse 2 is bracing: Josiah did not manage the abominations of his era — he removed them. He did not accommodate idolatry for the sake of social peace. For Catholic leaders — bishops, priests, parents, teachers, politicians — this is an uncomfortable mirror. Reform is costly, and Ben Sira praises Josiah precisely for bearing that cost.
For ordinary Catholics, Verse 3 is the practical anchor. Josiah did not begin with legislation; he began by setting his heart right. This is the sequence of authentic Catholic renewal: Eucharistic adoration before parish restructuring; personal confession before public advocacy; interior conversion before institutional reform. The spiritual director's perennial wisdom — begin with yourself — is exactly what Ben Sira's portrait of Josiah models. In "lawless days" — and every age has them — holiness is not a cultural given but a daily, effortful act of the will directed toward God.
This is the theological climax of the triptych. The outward reform (v. 2) flows from an interior reality: a rightly ordered heart (kateuthynō tēn kardian). The phrase resonates with the Deuteronomic command to love God with "all your heart" (Dt 6:5) and with the Psalms' insistence that God desires "a pure heart" (Ps 51:10). Ben Sira's point is moral-psychological: Josiah did not merely comply with the Law; he willed it from within.
The phrase "in lawless days" (en hēmerais anomias) contextualizes the achievement. Josiah reigned after the long, corrupt reign of Manasseh (2 Kgs 21:1–18), who had filled Jerusalem with idols and "shed very much innocent blood." Godliness prevailed not in easy times but against the grain of a culture saturated with apostasy. Ben Sira presents this not as an accident of history but as a moral triumph — the capacity of one rightly ordered will to redirect an entire people.
Typological and Spiritual Senses
In the typological reading dominant in Catholic tradition, Josiah prefigures Christ: both came in a time of spiritual corruption, both purified the Temple (cf. Jn 2:13–22), both renewed covenant worship, and both displayed a perfect interior disposition toward the Father. Just as Josiah "set his heart right," Christ, the true High Priest, was wholly oriented toward the Father's will (Jn 4:34; Heb 10:7). The incense image of v. 1 carries Christological resonance in patristic reading: Origen and later interpreters saw the Temple incense as a figure of Christ's prayer and sacrifice ascending to the Father (cf. Rev 8:3–4).