Göttinger Predigten im Internet
ed. by U. Nembach, J. Neukirch, C. Dinkel, I. Karle

ADVENT SERMON SERIES, DECEMBER 3, 2006
“The Days are Surely Coming Says the Lord: To You, O Living God, I Lift up My Soul”
A Sermon Based on Psalm 25:1-10, by Sara Olson-Smith
(->current sermons )


To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over
me.
Do not let those who wait for you be put to shame; let them be ashamed who are
wantonly treacherous.
Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth, and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait
all day long.
Be mindful of your mercy, O Lord, and of your steadfast love, for they have been from of
old.
Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast
love remember me, for your goodness’ sake, O Lord!
Good and upright is the Lord; therefore he instructs sinners in the way.
He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way.
All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his
covenant and his decrees
(Psalm 25:1-10, NRSV).


I walked into the Owl House utterly amazed. It’s a small house, turned museum, just a kitchen and two other rooms. Not too different that many of the other small houses that surround it in the small South African town of Nieu Bethesda. But this house is altogether different. As I entered the small rooms, I was immediately met by the brightest colors- golden sunshine yellow, blue as deep as the sky, greens and oranges and red. Colors painted not just on the walls, but on the ceiling, the floors, the furniture. And it wasn’t just the color that was so impressive, but also the mirrors placed in strange places around the rooms. And not just mirrors but also small pieces of broken, colored glass like glitter glued in patterns – sunbursts, spirals, stars and moons.

As we walked through the house the tour guide told us about Miss Helen – the woman who lived in and created this amazing house. She spent her lifetime struggling with depression, had a marriage that ended when she was still young. After her marriage ended she returned to this home to care for her ailing parents. It was just after her beloved parents died that she began to work on her house. Instead of leaving this town that held such grief, instead of moving on to a new place, she waited in her darkness, one small candle burning, and she waited for guidance, waited to see what might inspire her. She trusted that God would come to her there, of all places.

And in her waiting, watching the light of one candle, and she watched the candle as it reflected on one mirror. And the light continued to teach her, she sat watching how it reflected on glass, how it was made brighter by bolder color. And led by her waiting and watching, she began to create, to paint, to place mirrors in just the right place, to grind different colored glass in a coffee grinder to make a sort of glitter, gluing the reflective pieces onto the wall.

Since we were there during the day, the tour guide brought a large cloth to cover the colored glass window so that the room became completely dark. And than he lit a candle—just one candle—and the room became alive with light. The mirrors were perfectly placed to catch the flame of the candle and throw it to another mirror and then another- the reflected light dancing around the room. And the pieces of glittering glass split and multiplied the light into tiny stars. After she waited in darkness, led and inspired by the light of this small candle, God had come to Miss Helen there, dancing around the room, shattering her darkness. God had indeed come to that little room, to a despairing woman, leading her to hope, to light, to creating a world full of light and color.

To you, O Living God, I lift up my soul. My trust is in you.
Lead me in your truth, and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all day long.
Be mindful of your mercy, O Lord, and of your steadfast love, for they have been from of
old.

In the midst of shame and enemies, the psalmist articulates trust and hope, placing her being into the care of God. The psalmist waits for God, waiting for God’s truth to lead her, waiting for God’s mercy to bless her, waiting for God’s instruction and teaching. The psalmist waits, even in her fear and the knowledge of her sinfulness, trusting that God will come to her, even there. God will come to her as she waits, and God will be the one to lead her on her path, to instruct her on her way. She waits because she knows that God will come to lead her in steadfast love. And she waits because she knows that God will come, because that is what God does. God is merciful, God’s steadfast love has been known throughout generation. God has come before and God will come again. Trusting this, the psalmist prays even as she waits.

Miss Helen painted a psalm on her wall. She, too, sat and waited, she lifted her soul to God in color and hope and design. Her own brokenness in the broken glass, mirrors reflecting her own recognized sinfulness and hope, bold colors daring to speak of new life, color and promise of mercy. She waited, waited and listened, and God came to her, God came into her fear and despair, and brought light, light which danced in mercy and steadfast love. And following the way showed to her, she continued to create. And having waited for the presence of God to come to her, she followed beyond the wall of her house as she built statues in her yard- statues of owls and mermaids, wise men and camels, whimsical creatures. Her art bearing witness to the power of color, of hope and life into her small town.

Lead me in your truth, and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all day long.

On the first Sunday in Advent, in our Christian calendar we are starting a New Year, and instead of starting this New Year with lists of resolutions, new schedules of what we will do, how we will change, we Christians start our year by waiting. We start the year by gathering together, praying and sitting and waiting around a wreath of candles. We start our new year waiting, remembering the stories of God, telling of God’s mercy and steadfast love, wondering of the ways in which Christ will come to us, to lead us, to instruct us, to guide us on the way.

We lift our souls to God, trusting in God’s mercy and steadfast love, trusting that God will come to us, of all people, trusting that God will come here, of all places.

This is not the place we imagine that God would come. This world is altogether torn apart by violence and war, genocide and conflict. Our nation is full of inequity, of hunger, of racism and class-ism and sexism. Our forests and rivers and air are daily being destroyed. Our neighborhoods are disconnected and many are strangers to one another. And we live with our own brokenness, our own participation in systems of power and privilege, our harmful pride and fear, turning away from our neighbors in anger and self-righteousness. And we are broken in despair, loneliness and sorrow, we are weary and lost. We are caught always wanting in a consumer society and always disappointed and disappointing. We are not at all the people we would like to be, not the welcome mat we would like to see for Christ’s coming. And yet, dear ones, Christ will come here, of all places. Christ will come to us, of all people.

And so we wait- trusting not our own power or vision to move into the future to change the world to be better, but waiting, trusting that only God can do this, only God can lead us in these ways. And we wait for God to come and instruct us, for it is only by God’s wisdom that we can transform systems of destruction, violence and inequity. And we wait for God to grant us vision, for it is only by seeing as God would have us see that the way will be opened. And we wait, eager and ready to act, for God will come here, to us, to lead and instruct.

And we wait, honest about our own failings and struggles, our souls lifted up to God, for only God can give us forgiveness and power to change. We wait, truthful about our despair and grief and weariness, our souls lifted up to God, for only God can bring our life out of death, dancing from our mourning. We wait, open and ready to receive, for God will come, to offer us mercy and compassion.

We wait, in eager and longing, knowing that God will come, even to us, even to this place. We know this because this has happened already. We wait now in anticipating the celebration of that time when God came into the world- the broken and imperfect world- as a tiny child, transforming the world, offering guidance and wisdom and hope. Known as a teacher, a visionary, a prophet and a healer, Christ came into the world- to the poor and hungry, to the lost and sinful, to bring forgiveness, to bring hope, to bring salvation. And Christ came, changing everything in his crucifixion and resurrection, bringing about a new way, showing us a new path, offering us new vision. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

Miss Helen waited in her dark house, a small candle burning – and God came to her, showing her a vision of light and color and hope, a way of being that brought hope and vision to many others. We, now, in this Advent time, sit around this candle burning, waiting for the One to come who will give us a vision, a way of being, a path of mission. And we believe that Christ will come here, of all places. We believe that Christ will come to us, of all people.

And even as we wait, Christ is present among us, present in bread broken, in wine outpoured, in baptismal water always flowing. Christ is present, even now as we wait, a light burning in our midst, dancing around us as Christ reflects in our eyes, in the bold colors of a gathered people in prayer and song, our brokenness made beautiful through Christ’s grace. We wait, eager to follow, eager to learn, eager to be transformed. We wait, trusting that Christ will come here, of all places. Christ will come to us, of all people.

Thanks be to God.

Rev. Sara Olson-Smith
Pastor, St. Peter’s Lutheran Church
stpetersnp@gmail.com



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