Four Advent Villanelles from Anna A. Friedrich

by Anna A. Friedrich

Advent I

More of Your Light— more light is what we need—
a sudden flash, or rising sun, however
you will come— Come! and be the dawn, we plead

with You. Shadow covers our earth aspeed,
while we, like frightened cave-dwellers, cower
blue-lit. But light—Your Light is what we need.

No cave can be our home, why do we feed      	
the bellowing, beleaguered, hidden monster?
—his voice is night. LORD, be the dawn, we plead

again! Break into each old lair and read
our secret drawings, etched in hope, in fear—
Let there be light! Your Light is what we need.

Our only rescue? By Your hand. Come lead
us out, lost in tunnels getting darker,
bring us to break of day, to dawn! We plead

for heaven’s rending— Oh let daylight bleed
into the cracks, split this stone asunder
until our nights be day—more light, we need!
Blind us with light! Come! be our Dawn, we plead.

Advent II

Who prays for fire? Who prays for judgement’s flame?
We want things cool, a tepid song we sing.
But He will come to purify, to name

the dross, the gold, who to bless, who to blame.
—He finds in each a glorious ruin.
What can clarify us but holy flame?

A revelatory spark flared when John came:
Repent! The Great Refiner’s coming! Bring
all you are, let him purify and name

you: Daughter. Son. Hear your Father exclaim!
Look to the Fourth Man in the fire, cling
to Him whose clothes carry no smell of flame.

He’s gone before us— Wild. True. Not tame.
Our Brother in this choking smoke— our King!
We wait for Him to purify, to name

and to consume all that destroys. His claim?
All of creation— His — everything.
We pray for His fire. We trust this flame.
He comes to purify. Praise His Name. 

Advent III

after Psalm 81

There’s honey from the rock, You promise us.
That hard place, in the Wilderness of Sin—
it’s there You make the grumblers joyous.

We expect water — still miraculous —
a stricken stone is no well, no fountain.
Yet honey from the rock You promise us.

What kind of sweet provision, Lord, is this?
The work of bees to revive us again?
—Your good creation hums. (Grumblers, rejoice!)

You turn from Your hot anger; turn to us—
hands hanging limp; our dried-out mouths open.
Fill us with laughter and rich food— You promised us

restoration: for peace and righteousness
to kiss! Let every grumbler say Amen!
May it be so! —May all grumblers rejoice.

I’m standing at the rock, O Lord, joyless.
But You’re the One struck, the Rock split open.
—There’s honey from this Rock, You promise us.
I am the guilty grumbler. Make me joyous!

Advent IV

Our Shepherd, we want to know You are good.
To know it as a mother knows her child
in utero— another life, inside

that grows, surprises, kicks. But Oh! Instead
we see You as the hungry wolf. A bared-
teeth god, snarling. Show us that You are good—

You comfort (and confront) with staff in hand,
through every shadowed valley. Shepherd, guide
us to green pastures! You say life’s inside

the sheep gate —True Life — and You’re the Way. Lead
us there. Waiting in darkness leaves us scared.
We are the sheep of Your hand, are you good

at tending flocks, by night? Keep watch, Shepherd!
It’s lambing season; we are sleepy-eyed
—when glory fills the sky! The life inside

of each of us stirs! We’re driven to find
the child in the holy cave beside
the creatures and the hay— the Lamb! O Good
Shepherd! You’ve come to give Your Life, from the inside.

These original poems were written by Anna A. Friedrich, for Church of the Cross, Boston, for the 2024 Advent season. They were commissioned by CotC, thanks to the Calvin Institute for Christian Worship’s Vital Worship Grant for Worshipping Communities.