St. Lucy December 13

St. Lucy, December 13th

“Santa Lucia, thy light is glowing

Through darkest winter night, comfort bestowing.

Dreams float on dreams tonight,

Comes then the morning light,

Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia.”—Swedish Children’s Folk Song.

Today, December 13th, in the darkest hours of the morning (2 a.m. to 4 a.m.), in Sweden and Norway, the eldest daughter of a family wearing a white gown, a red sash, and a crown of lingonberry twigs and seven burning candles on her head emerged out of the darkness carrying a tray of rich saffron buns and steaming coffee to wake up her family. Every village also has its own Lucy, who goes from one farm to the next carrying a torch to light her way, bringing cookies and buns at each house, and returning home by daybreak.

The Nobel Peace Prize winner for literature often has the honor of lighting the candles on the head of Lucy for the city of Stockholm. Throughout Sweden, they celebrate the feast day of Lucy as a festival of lights with bonfires, incense, and candlelight parades. It is a mystery how honoring St. Lucy became so widespread in Scandinavia, given that Lucy was a native of Sicily. The tradition of honoring Lucy may have originated among the Vikings in Sweden. They traveled south on peaceful trading expeditions to Italy and brought back the stories of the early Christian martyr Lucia.

December 13th is one of the shortest days of the year. In popular piety, Lucy is perhaps most revered because her feast day was, for many centuries, the shortest day of the year. (The calendar reform by Pope Gregory VIII (1582) would shift the shortest day to December 21/22, depending upon the year.) On Lucy’s day, the light gradually returned, and the days lengthened. This was particularly powerful in northern Europe, where winter days were relatively short.

Therefore, the Scandinavians honor a young Sicilian girl, Lucy, whose name means “light,” during the darkest part of their year, as light is about to return. It is all a mystery, but the tradition is beautiful.

I especially remember this day because two friends who carried the light of Christ to so many people died on this day, seven years apart. So, in my prayers on St. Lucy’s Day, I remembered special friends who have brought light out of darkness to so many, and I treasured especially those in my own life who showed me the light in times of darkness.

My Advent prayer on St. Lucy’s Day is to remember those who brought the light of Christ, the light of God, and the light of the Spirit to us.

St. Lucy Day is an Advent tradition that the Scandinavians have given us to remember the light that shines in our darkness.

We can also bring this Advent practice home. In the past, our family often celebrated St. Lucy’s Day during the second week of Advent, with our oldest granddaughter serving buns at an Advent family service. She dresses in a white dress with a red sash and carries a candle (or her St. Lucy doll), as we all say, the traditional song Lucy sings on her rounds.

Thomas Merton: Mary and Elizabeth

Thomas Merton: Mary and Elizabeth 1

The Visitation of St. Elizabeth to the Virgin Mary 1503
Artist: Albertinelli, Mariotto

“Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person who each one is in God’s eyes. If only they could all see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed.”—Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, 140-142, Doubleday:1966.

Merton’s mystical experience captures what spiritual friends seek: seeing the light of Christ in one another. I am reminded of Mary, the mother of Jesus, visiting her even more pregnant relative, Elizabeth, in Luke 1:39-56. As Elizabeth, carrying John the Baptist, hears Mary’s greeting to her, the baby in her womb leaps for joy. Elizabeth is then filled with the Holy Spirit and greets Mary with the words: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Mary then breaks into the song of praise and thanksgiving, which we call the Magnificat, “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord.”

How wonderful when we meet our neighbor, and the creative part within us, the Christ within us, leaps for joy to perceive the Christ within our neighbor. What does this story tell us about what occurs in our lives and the lives of our neighbors when this happens? We are filled with the Holy Spirit, and our neighbor is empowered to say, sing, or live out the Magnificat.

sculpture at the Church of the Visitation in Jerusalem

Some of us are like Mary, just beginning to bear children. Many of us are like Elizabeth, beyond the child-bearing age. Some of us have never borne children, but this story of these two saints and Merton’s story still speaks to us. God is speaking to the birthing, the creative part of us, which empowers us to see the Christ in ourselves and the Christ in our neighbor.1

1 Seibert, The Living Church, May 25, 2003

Joanna        https://www.joannaseibert.com/

 

 

 

Resentments

Resentment

“Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”—Attributed to St. Augustine and many others.

I have had a lot of experience with resentments in my own life. In addition, so many people come for spiritual direction because of grievances about harm done to them by others. These resentments block us from a relationship with God as we obsess about what this person has done to us, thinking about this injustice more and more. The person or the event becomes our higher power, our God. There is no room for a relationship with God because our existence centers on the harm done to us and how to harm those who hurt us. When I can calm down and realize this person has taken over my thoughts and become my God, I slowly begin a path to forgiveness. I don’t want this person or situation to be my higher power, to take up so much space in my limited life.

 The first step is to pray daily for that person. Praying does not change the person who harmed us, but praying can change us.  

One other helpful observation. We do not have far to look to see others whose resentment for the wounding done to them has taken over their existence. Some try to hide it. Others openly live a life of resentment. It changes who they are. Anger, bitterness, and self-centeredness live there. They become victims. Wholeness is excluded. Some become almost paralyzed by resentment and cannot deal with life on life’s terms. They soon begin to resent others who do not appreciate the injury they have suffered. Addictions creep in as temporary, harmful solutions to the increasing pain that resentment brings. That person who harmed them is still hurting them. It is a miserable, isolated life, an icon of who or what we do not want to be.

Forgiveness is our only option if we want a relationship with God and a relationship with others.

I share one of my favorite books on forgiveness.

Joanna  joannaseibert.com