“I see you,” said the woman who would become my mentor, like a mother to me. Her eyes were shining, telegraphing a beauty and power I myself didn’t yet know I possessed. I wondered what she saw.
I was struggling as a single mother with two young children. There was so much I doubted about myself at that moment. The future that I thought was certain had been suddenly and irreparably altered, and the path ahead was not at all clear.
Yet here was this woman in whose eyes I saw the certainty that my possibility would blossom forth into new life. In the light of that love and promise, I was able to share my confusion and fears. Divine healing and strength flowed to me through her. Not to fix things, but to give me the resilience and faith to respond to the challenges that came my way.
This year, as we enter Advent, my thoughts return to that moment. As we look around our world, it may seem that the future we thought was certain has been irreparably altered. At the same time, we all know the Advent story of Elizabeth greeting Mary, eyes shining, proclaiming to her the wonder of the life that is within.
Elizabeth, like my mentor, clearly sees the gift of the young woman before her: “Most blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Elizabeth reassures Mary, and us too.
Our path into the future is always toward life, toward Christ. So how do we make sense of where we find ourselves in Advent 2025?
When we look through the lens of creation care, we see a world growing warmer by the year. As Pope Francis wrote in Laudate Deum, the “signs of climate change are here and increasingly evident. No one can ignore the fact that in recent years we have witnessed extreme weather phenomena,” such as unusual heat, drought, fires, severe storms, flooding, hurricanes.
It is a grim picture, more like being with Mary at the foot of the cross than at the manger.
Yet here we are in Advent, and Advent hope was on my mind as I sat in a presentation on the effects of the climate crisis on mental health and well-being. The statistics about young adults are particularly troubling. A survey of young people worldwide found that close to 75% believe the future is frightening. They reported feelings of sadness, anxiety, and powerlessness in the face of the climate crisis.
Yet the presenter found, when she brought elders and young people together in conversation about how they are feeling in the climate crisis, there was a beautiful outpouring of honesty and a resilience that arose from building intergenerational relationships and mutual sharing of resources.
I was reminded of the synodal conversations of our own Church. Being an “elder” now myself, I wondered how I would do in such a conversation, guided by the Spirit to listen with an open heart as younger generations shared feelings of existential distress and fears for the future.
And then, I think of my own mentor and that moment over 20 years ago, when she said, “I see you.”
I think of Elizabeth, who “saw” Mary deeply, the blessing of her true self and the Christ child within her womb, who came to be a blessing to the world. What a gift intergenerational relationships can be.
And I wonder, those of us who are elders, what would it be like if we invited the young adults in our lives — at work, at our parishes, in our families and communities — into conversation about the climate crisis? Can we open a space to share not only our confusion and fears, but also our hopes and dreams?
Not to fix things, but to see each other deeply, and nurture resilience and faith to respond to whatever challenges are coming our way. Now that’s Advent hope.
Lissa Romell, is a Board member of the Passionist Solidarity Network, affiliated with the Passionist Earth and Spirit Center and Administrator at St. Vincent Strambi Community in Chicago, Illinois.
