O Saints of Advent, Lead Us

a message from Liv Larson Andrews, DEM

Nights in the northern hemisphere continue to deepen, dark and cold. The winter Solstice draws near. Soon, we will light candles as we sing Silent Night at the Feast of the Nativity. All creation cries, “Come, Lord Jesus.” 

Three saints accompany us with their own cries in these weeks of Advent. Well, of course, countless saints accompany us all the time – we are each saint and sinner at once! But in the month of December our calendar remembers two bishops and a martyr who I think can help lead us as we move through the long nights of 2023 and into the coming dawn of 2024: Nicholas, Ambrose, and Lucy. 

Nicholas served as Bishop of Myra, in what is now Turkey. Although lore around him grew and changed over the generations, contorting his story into the mythic St. Nick/Santa figure, he was known for generosity and caring for the poor. Anonymous, even sneaky, gift-giving has become his hallmark. Our stockings hung by the chimney with care have origins in tales of Nicholas freeing people from debt and oppression through surprise gifts.

Elected bishop of Milan after settling violence between Arians and Catholics, Ambrose taught, preached, and wrote hymns while championing both peace and the pursuit of orthodoxy. He famously mentored Augustine. We often sing his words in Advent through the hymn “Savior of the Nations, Come.” 

Then there’s Lucy. If you have ever interacted with Scandinavian Lutherans, you likely know of her. Nameless, as “Lucy” is not her name but rather her title, “light-bearer,” she is beloved in Scandinavia and all places that experience long winter nights. She is also a model of resistance. Her crown of thorns sat on her head, lighting her way, so that her hands could carry food and resources to Christians hiding in the catacombs from imperial soldiers. 

Many stories about these saintly figures have a measure of wonder and fantasy about them. For example, it is said that a soldier plucked Lucy’s eyes out when she refuses to stop feeding people. Then he handed her her own eyes on a plate. She simply popped them back in the sockets and went on with her ministry! 

As we look out upon folks in our communities struggling with homelessness and poverty, or when we stumble to find the right words to share our story, or even when the powers that be threaten to dismember us and steal our vision, Christ comes. Christ is incarnate even now, in our midst, calling us to live lives of boldness and bravery.

Alongside these commemorations of saints in December, there is another feast in the season of Advent that gives us hope. Our Lady of Guadalupe is celebrated on December 12 in Mexico and everywhere Christians of Mexican heritage gather. Her appearance to Juan Diego, speaking to him in his own language, and her gift of the hillside of roses in winter are reminders that God draws near to those who are suffering and those who need help. We remember how we are part of God’s family, recalling the way Mary affirmed that she was a mother to Juan Diego.  

2024 promises to be a year of division and drama. Voices will call for violence. Fences may be raised, then heightened. What do these stories and visions have to teach us about living in such times? 

• Nicholas, open our hands and hearts. Teach us about God’s surprising generosity.

• Ambrose, open our mouths with stories and poems to sing the Spirit’s radical love.

• Lucy, open our eyes to the dawning light, both within and without. 

• Our Lady of Guadalupe, bloom with your joyful assurance that God is among us and healing us, and call us your chosen family. 

And when the powers threaten to tear us apart, O Christ, broken for our sake, feed us with your own broken body. Come be born in every catacomb, back alley, prison cell, desert hillside, and graveyard. Come, Lord Jesus, come.