Feast Day of Saint Lucy, December 13

St. Lucy, December 13

“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 spectacular in Scandinavia when Lucy was a native of Sicily. The tradition of honoring Lucy may have originated in Sweden with Vikings. They traveled south on peaceful trading expeditions to Italy and brought back the stories of the early Christian martyr Lucia.

December thirteenth 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 the days of winter were quite 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 but treasure, 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 take this Advent practice to our homes. 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.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Sharing Our Story in Advent

Nouwen: Telling Our Story this Advent

“Waiting patiently in expectation does not necessarily get easier as we become older… As we age, we are tempted to settle down in a routine way of living and say: ‘Well, I have seen it all.… There is nothing new under the sun.… I will just take it easy and take the days as they come.’ But in this way, our lives lose their creative tension. We no longer expect something new to happen. We become cynical or self-satisfied or simply bored.”—Henri Nouwen

I think of the regular routine of so many seniors our age. Many think they deserve to rest because they have worked hard for many years. But I am learning there are many forms of rest. We can sit and talk or watch movies with our grandchildren. Eventually, we will tell our story to them. This is one of our most significant ministries to let those who will live on after us know the story of our family. My experience is that they may not be interested in hearing unless we do something together and let them know how much we love them.

My husband occasionally told family stories while he took our grandchildren to school. But he didn’t do it every day, or they might become bored! We can be storytellers while fishing, walking, hiking, crafting, fixing dinner, or eating together. Telling our family story gives our children and grandchildren roots that connect them to a loving God. It also helps us recount our own story, the purpose of our lives, and our origins. A good time for stories is at holidays, graduations, or birthdays when we share past times.

Do not be disheartened if family members are not interested. Consider writing or making an oral video of your story. Often after we die, maybe not until our family members are our age do they become interested. My experience is that the older we become, the more we look for our roots. It is a way of grounding ourselves, connecting us to the earth from which we came and will return. At each telling of our story, we find even more awareness.

 As we share our story, we also become increasingly aware of how a loving God works in our lives and our family at every turn, every day. We often only comprehend this when we share our family’s history and recognize the pattern of how God and God’s love were and are with us at every turn.

Family gatherings, such as meals at Thanksgiving and Christmas, are excellent times to hear and tell family stories.

Spend some time this Advent sharing your story, but first, listen as someone else shares their story with you.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Encountering Water and Desert in Advent

 Encountering Water and Desert in Advent

 Guest Writer: Dr. Elizabeth-Anne Stewart

water and desert

We need both the desert and water, that time of aridity and that time of refreshment and cleansing. These seeming opposites belong together: on its own, the desert is a fearsome place that can leave us at the mercy of sand storms, scorpions, wild beasts, night terrors, and agonizing thirst; on its own, water lets us float aimlessly or else tugs at us relentlessly until we are swept away by powerful currents or else battered by tempestuous waves.

 To linger in the desert too long places us at the mercy of demons, while to dive deep into unknown waters can lure us into forgetfulness and oblivion. Alone in the desert, we are left to face our worst selves and to relive the pain of lives past-- forgotten memories of what we have done and what we have failed to do, of promises made and broken, of relationships that ended with a bang or a whimper, of opportunities missed.

Alone in the water, we lose all agency as the waves and rippling currents do what they will, lulling us into complacency or leaving us struggling for survival...

But together, desert and water are balm for the soul. In silence and solitude, we remember; in water, we are “re-membered" or made whole again. The desert brings insight, allowing us to see how we have been responsible for much of our pain, primarily because of our attachments and ego needs; at the same time, it allows us to understand why others may have harmed us, to see how their own wounded selves have caused them to be cruel, unjust or indifferent. For its part, water washes over us, cleansing our hearts and minds, soothing our aching limbs, and accepting our tears of grief and remorse.

Just as in the days of John the Baptist, the people of Judea flocked to the desert to be immersed in the waters of the River Jordan, so we, too, need to seek out both desert and water, both insight and forgiveness. This desert/water immersion is neither an empty ritual nor a mere obligation. It is not about trying to feel good, getting rid of guilt and regrets, being "saved," becoming righteous, or preparing for Judgement Day. Instead, it is an opportunity to encounter the God who dwells in both desert and water, to be with the One who was driven by the Spirit into the desert to find his mission and identity and who had the power to calm turbulent waters. In his company, we look to the desert to find life, not death; at his bidding, we plunge into the maelstrom to learn to walk on water...

For all its glitter and frenetic activity, Advent is a desert season. Still, while we in the northern hemisphere celebrate a snowy wonderland in our carols, it is the living water that brings life to the desert-- the inexhaustible streams of God's love and mercy that are ever-present in those places where even angels fear to tread, flowing through the wasteland, the scorched earth and the parched lands...

Jordon River

Elizabeth-Anne Stewart, PhD, PCC, BCC

In addition to her work as a spiritual director, Elizabeth focuses mainly on spiritual coaching and writing coaching. Based in the greater Chicago area, she teaches writing at St. Xavier University, and spiritual coaching at the Institute for Life Coach Training (ILCT); she recently launched The Ministry Coaching Foundation to offer opportunities for continuing education and personal renewal. www.elizabeth-annestewart.com; www.MinistryCoachingFoundation.com; www.ChicagoWritingCoach.com 

Joanna joannaseibert.com

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