St. Lucy Day, December 13

St. Lucy December 13

“Santa Lucia, thy light is glowing

Through darkest winter night, comfort bestowing.”

—Swedish Children’s Folk Song.

Already today, this December 13 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 with a crown of lingonberry twigs and seven blazing candles on her head—emerges 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 to each house and returning home by daybreak.

The winner of the Nobel Peace Prize for literature often has the honor of lighting the candles on the head of the “Lucy” for the city of Stockholm. Throughout Sweden, the feast day of Lucy is celebrated as a festival of lights, with bonfires rich with incense and candlelight parades. How in the world did this honoring of St. Lucy become so important in Scandinavia, when the original Lucy was a native of Sicily? The tradition of honoring Lucy may have taken hold in Sweden after Vikings who traveled south on peaceful trading expeditions to Italy brought back stories of the early Christian martyr, Lucia.

December 13 in our calendar is almost the shortest day of the year. Somehow the Scandinavians began to honor a young Sicilian girl, Lucy, whose name means “light,” at a time during the darkest part of their year. It is all a mystery; but the tradition is beautiful.

I especially honor this day because two friends who carried the light of Christ to so many people died on this day seven years apart. Another light bearer who was our great teacher and friend is having major heart surgery today. So, in my own prayers on St. Lucy Day, I remember special friends who have brought light out of darkness to so many; but I especially remember those in my own life who showed me the light in times of darkness.

This is my Advent suggestion: for you to remember today, on St. Lucy Day, those who brought the light of Christ, the light of God, the light of the Spirit to you.

This is a special tradition that the Scandinavians have given us to remember the light that shines in our darkness. We can also carry the tradition to our homes. In the past, our family has often celebrated St. Lucy Day during the second week of Advent, with our oldest granddaughter serving buns at an Advent family service. She dresses in white with a red sash and carries a candle as we all say together the traditional song above, that Lucy sings on her rounds.

Joanna . joannaseibert.com

Holy Listening

“Listening creates a holy silence. When you listen generously to people, they can hear truth in themselves, often for the first time..”

—Rachel Naomi Remen in Kitchen Table Wisdom: Stories That Heal (Riverhead Books, 1996).

One of my partners at work gave me this book by Rachel Remen, another physician who writes about the spiritual life in the ordinary. I remember the book; but I also remember the kindness of the giver, and offer thanks for him and the times, often very holy, that we had together. I have learned that a book is meaningful to me not only for what is in it but for the person who gave me the book.

I think of Margaret Guenther and her book Holy Listening: The Art of Spiritual Direction. The message I keep hearing this Advent is to make part of my Advent discipline a holy listening to those with whom I do not agree. My husband and I, for brief periods of time, listen to a news program that we know will tell a different story than what we are used to hearing. How do those of us who hear so differently share what we have learned and then search together for the truth? I don’t know that answer; but perhaps at least hearing a different story and a variant interpretation as to what is happening can help us understand why others believe what they do.

There is also another setting in which I am trying to be a holy listener. I frequently find myself with people who speak up too often, and sometimes have only what I feel to be boring words to offer. In the past I would cut them off and try to escape from the conversation. During this season I have been trying simply to listen and listen for the Christ within them. One observation is that I have difficulty seeing and hearing Christ in them when I have lost my connection to the Christ within myself. It is the Christ, God, the holy, the Spirit within us that can make that precious contact. I think that understanding is our job. If we stay connected to the God within, we will discern the answers that we may hear in holy listening and enter into relationship with those with whom we have difficulty.

I am holding on to this hope.

Joanna . joannaseibert.com

Buechner: Counter Culture

Buechner: Counter Culture

“To love your neighbors when an intelligent fourth grader could tell you that the way to get ahead in the world is to beat your neighbors to the draw every chance you get—that was what this God asked, Paul wrote.”

—Frederick Buechner in Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons (HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), p. 199.

joanna . campbell

Buechner reminds us how countercultural the Christian faith was from the get-go as well as today. There is no better time to experience this than in the season of Advent in the Church Year. It is the four weeks before Christmas at the beginning of the Church Year. While during December our culture is hurrying, overloaded, frantic, caught up in a commercial craziness, the season of Advent calls us to a quiet preparedness, watching, waiting, pausing. In fact, the staff at our church has chosen “Pause, Breathe, Wait, Watching for the Christ child” as our theme for the season. Pause, Breathe, Wait, Watching for the Christ Child.

Advent is my favorite season, and this call to quietness makes it even more so. We put on pause the cacophony inside and outside of our heads, sit in a favorite chair, look or walk outside, light candles, feel something moving inside of our body as we move from our head to the rest of our body and become grounded in the present moment. The air we breathe in and out is full of the anticipation of new birth in us and in the world. The Christ child who is already within us wakes up and opens his eyes and smiles—as the Christ within us sees the light of Christ across the room in someone quite different from us whom we want to know better.

Joanna . joannaseibert.com