When I pulled into the parking lot at work this morning the bumper of the car next to mine offered this beautiful challenge…

Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year, but I had a difficult time getting in the spirit of the season this year. I figured it had something to do with not having any snow or because things had been busy at work and I had a cold, but then a few days ago I realized what had made this Christmas different from the previous twenty-nine.

The church season leading up to Christmas is called Advent, which means “coming” or “arrival,” with the celebration of Jesus’ birth being the culmination of season.

Advent is a season I’ve experienced true to its definition in the past, a time when I’ve been filled with excitement for all the traditions and family time along with the peace and hope of celebrating the birth of Jesus. All those things happened again this year and I enjoyed them as much as I could, but then it was January and life pretty much went back to normal.

Only a few days into the New Year something unexpected happened, I realized it was Advent. Not on the calendar or in the church, but because I was anticipating the birth of a child with more eagerness and excitement than any Christmas before.

I shared the story of my nephew a few days ago, but the short version is that my sister was pregnant and due on Christmas day three years ago but then became sick and went into labor much too early and the baby didn’t make it. Regardless of how many other details you know about what happened, you can imagine my sister and her husband (and all of us) have been through a lot. One thing that has remained obvious to me through everything is that my sister and her husband would be incredible parents and they really want a child, so it was one of the greatest surprises in the world (no exaggeration!) when they shared the incredible news earlier this year that they were expecting a child.

After all the struggles and pain they’d experienced, this seemed almost too good to be true, but after it settled in we anxiously (and a bit cautiously) began preparing for this miracle baby to arrive.

There were more doctor visits than with a normal pregnancy, and due to everything she had been through it was decided she would have a c-section at least a few weeks before her due date, but everything was going well and they were told to expect a healthy baby girl. That’s right, a girl, so for those of you keeping track at home this would be my third niece.

Fast forward to the middle of last week when it finally hit me that my sister was going to have a baby soon. All the emotions of the past mixed together with my love for this unborn girl and I knew that for the first time, despite all the excitement I had for Christmases in the past, I was fully experiencing Advent.

My family gathered at my sister and her husband’s house on Thursday night to have dinner and hang out. It was fun looking at the baby room and seeing all the little clothes and other gifts they had been accumulating in the living room, but it was also clear we were controlling our excitement. We were ready to celebrate emotionally but after all that had happened it wasn’t quite time to party yet.

When I went to bed on Thursday night I realized that to me it was Christmas Eve, so the next day would be Christmas, which was odd since it was actually January 5 (my mom’s birthday).

I set my alarm for much earlier than I would normally wake up so I could send my sister a text message, then slept a few more hours before going to work. I hadn’t scheduled anything that day to make sure I could go to the hospital whenever. There was a brief time of concern when I hadn’t heard anything in the mid-morning, but as soon as the good news came I ran to my car and drove to the hospital, getting to their room just after they had settled in. My mom was already there and my sister was sitting up in the bed, still a bit out of it from the surgery but obviously happy and very relieved. My brother-in-law was sitting near the window holding a little girl wrapped in blankets, it was his daughter, my niece…the child we had been waiting for.

I had spent a lot of time dreaming and praying for this moment to become a reality, but the emotions still snuck up on me. Tears had already pooled in the corners of my eyes when my brother-in-law placed that little girl in my arms, and as I held my niece my sister asked how I felt about being a godfather again. I can’t quite remember what I said, but am quite confident my mouth made a sound because it felt like a question that called for an answer with words and not just a nod of the head. It was a moment I will never forget, and I wouldn’t have thought it could get any better except that today I went back to the hospital and held her again. This time for much longer because there were fewer people around, and as I looked down at her tiny face while she quietly slept I realized that by some great miracle she was even cuter than the day before.

As if the story couldn’t be filled with any more meaning and beauty, they chose a name today; Natalia, which comes from the Italian natale and means “birthday.” It’s a word often used in specific reference to Christ’s birthday, and the Italian phrase for “Merry Christmas” is actually buon natale! So Natalia actually means “Christ’s birthday.” The quick explanation for why they chose the name is that my brother-in-law is Ethiopian where they celebrate Christmas on what is January 6^th and 7^th in America. So quite literally, Natalia was born on Christmas!

My experience of Advent may have been delayed this year, but when the child I had been anxiously awaiting was finally born it was the happiest and most joy-filled Christmas I could ever imagine, so even if it seems a few weeks late to you…

Merry Christmas, or I should say buon natale!

I’m posting this in memory of my nephew who would have turned three years old this Christmas. Read my note after the sermon for an update on the story.

Emmanuel: God is with us
Message by Andy Jolivette
December 21, 2008

Christmas is going to be different for me and my family this year.

This is usually my favorite time of year. I love everything about Christmastime. In my family and among my friends, I’ve been known to get out the Christmas music as early as September because I just can’t wait any longer.

This Christmas was going to be one of the best ever for my family, even topping the year I got a pair of Air Jordan basketball shoes when I was about 11 years old. You see, this past summer my oldest sister and her husband announced that after years of trying, they were pregnant and would be having their first child. We were all very excited, and you can imagine how much more excited we were when only a few weeks later, my other sister announced that she was pregnant too. As if that wasn’t exciting enough, it turned out they were due within a week of each other…the week of Christmas.

We were all preparing ourselves for two little ones. My mom couldn’t contain her joy about having grandkids, and you could tell my dad was loving the idea of being a grandpa. My sisters were glowing, happily surprised to be going through their first pregnancies together, and the idea of their children having an instant friend and cousin was pretty cool too. My brothers-in-law had the typical nervous/excited look of “I’m going to be a dad” on their faces, and I couldn’t imagine my sister’s having chosen better men as husbands and fathers. I was obviously excited about being an uncle too.

My family spends a lot of weekends together at our cabin during the summer, and during a weekend in early August my oldest sister and her husband told us they were having a boy. Yes!!! On the ride home that weekend, they asked if I’d be his godfather and told me they had picked a name, Emmanuel Andrew. A great name!

Sometimes, even when you don’t think you can get any more excited about something, you do anyway.

The next day I flew to California for a week, and on the second day of that trip I got an email from my mom saying something about visiting my sister in the hospital. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I quickly called her and found out that my sister had gone to the ER the night before complaining of stomach pain. She was being kept overnight to do some tests and find out what was going on. I was nervous, since getting pregnant had not been easy for her, but assumed it was just an inconvenience the doctors would take care of. So I checked in with my family every day and went about my trip. She had an emergency surgery at the end of the week and I nervously waited to hear that she and the baby were still doing okay. She was still in the hospital the day I was scheduled to fly home and I was planning to go straight to the hospital, still hoping for the best. But then it all changed in one short voicemail message. While I was getting ready to leave for the airport that morning, my brother-in-law had called to tell me that she was going into labor because her body could no longer take care of both her and the baby. She was only 20 weeks pregnant, and the baby would not live.

I flew home through a cloud of confusion. While waiting for my ride at the airport, I called my mom and heard the story of my nephew’s birth. It was much different than the story of a little baby boy entering the world that I had imagined it would be.

The next few days, weeks and even months are a blur, but I know they included a lot of time spent at the hospital. There were hugs, tears and prayers, and lots of pain and confusion.

Remember, my other sister was…is…still pregnant throughout all this.

Christmas is going to be both really hard and really exciting (all that the same time) for my family this year. My oldest sister was due on December 25th. My other sister will be having a baby girl a few days later. She’s due on December 30th.

We’ve had a lot of time to think about all that’s happened since August, and even if we’ve accepted it and know we can’t change anything, that doesn’t make it any less painful. My sister was supposed to become a mom this Christmas, her husband was supposed to become a dad. I was supposed to have a nephew…but that’s not going to happen.

Every time I think about my nephew and start feeling sad, I remember his name, Emmanuel. I remember what it means, and I remember that God is with me.

It doesn’t make anything easier, but it does offer some comfort.

Christmas might be the “most wonderful time of the year,” but it’s not always the easiest time of the year. It can bring back memories that are difficult and we all have painful stuff from our past that might make it hard to truly enjoy this time of year. Let’s not ignore that, but let’s also not dwell on it, because this is also a season of joy and giving. A time of peace and hope.

My sister is going to have a daughter sometime in the next few weeks. That is still exciting. Someday, that little girl is going to be old enough to hear the story of a little boy who was supposed to be the same age as her, who maybe would have even been her best childhood friend, but she’s only going to know that he’s not here anymore because he’s up in heaven. But she’s also going to hear the story of another baby boy who was born a long time ago. A boy who became the Savior of the world, who, like her cousin, died too early…only he died so that others might live. She’ll learn both stories, and as she gets older, they will hopefully both have an influence on her life.  She will learn that one of the baby boy’s was named Emmanuel, and the other Jesus.

Someday she might even read these verses from the Bible…

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:14, NIV)

“The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”—which means, “God with us.” (Matthew 1:23, NIV)

And although she’ll notice – and eventually understand – why her mom and dad, along with her aunts, uncles, grandma and grandpa get sad every year around Christmastime (which is just before her birthday), she will hopefully also notice that it’s a time of year when they experience hope and happiness.

Confusion and sadness are as much a part of the Christmas story as joy and hope.

I pray that no matter what is going on in your life this Christmas, you will experience the joy, peace and hope that comes from knowing that what the angel told the shepherds is true…“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:10-11)

Emmanuel. God is with us. God is for us. God is in us.

Amen.

Update: my sister and her husband will welcome their daughter into the world Friday morning (they have a scheduled c-section). I can’t wait to meet the little girl, and my three-year old niece is pretty excited to meet her new cousin as well!

Today was a special day for my dad. He got a new car. It was also a special day for me because he invited me along for the ride. That version of the story doesn’t even begin to explain the significance of today for my dad, and it also doesn’t make clear why this morning will probably become a story I will tell people when people ask me to share a great memory of my dad.

To put it in perspective we have to visit rural Iowa in the late 1960s when my dad was a skinny high school kid who had five siblings; a Lutheran pastor for a dad and a mom who found ways to feed and clothe her family that would make Dave Ramsey appear careless with money by comparison.

As a kid, my dad developed a deep interest in cars. Not that he or his parents had enough money to buy the coolest vehicles of the time, but he still knew about them all. To this day when he sees a car from his childhood era he’ll tell you the make, model and year. And although he has now owned dozens of cars he can still tell you the details of each one as if it’s still in his garage.

Mustangs have always been his favorite, and ever since he first saw the 1968 model he has dreamed of owning a “red Mustang convertible with camel [tan] interior.” He’s been talking about that car since I can remember, and as the youngest child in my family his dream was often mentioned as being directly connected to my educational progress, as in “when you graduate from college I can finally get my convertible,” or “my next tuition payment is going to be for a Mustang.”

The irony in this story is that my parent’s owned a 1968 Mustang when I was a little kid (in the mid 1980s). It wasn’t a convertible, but it was red, and the story I’ve heard is that the heater didn’t work and my mom didn’t like driving it on ice and snow, which seem like legitimate reasons – especially since we lived in northern Iowa where it’s winter half the year and a sports car is not at all a practical vehicle for a family with two young kids. So my parents sold the car to a high school kid in town. I have a faint memory of seeing it in a parking lot a few years later and watching my dad look at it, longingly. I somehow ended up with a key for that old car and I still have it today, along with a childish thought that someday I’d randomly find the car and use the key to reclaim it for my dad.

Fast forward to just a few days ago when my dad, who works at the same school as me, pulled me out of a meeting to see if I was available to help him with something on Saturday. When I said yes and asked him what was happening on Saturday he shared the reason behind the glow that was on his face…he had finally found his Mustang! It was in Iowa and he needed to go pick it up. The Ford dealership (which my uncle owns) arranged for a few guys to drive the car an hour south of the twin cities where we’d meet them in the parking lot.

So I woke up bright and early this morning, on a Saturday(!). One of the first things I did after turning off my alarm clock was post the following status on a few social media sites: “up early on a saturday to help my dad track down a dream he’s been chasing for over 40 years. this is going to be a fun day.” I had no idea how fun today was going to be.

My dad picked me up after stopping to get coffee and we headed south. It became clear right away that I was living out a great scene in a cool story.

As we drove into the morning sun my dad talked about how long he’d been dreaming of this day, again going back to his love of the ’68 model. He talked about all the different Mustangs over the past 40+ years and told me he had test-driven many of them (something I didn’t know). He said none of them looked and felt quite right to him until a few years ago when the 2010 model came out, the version of the car he was now about to own. He mentioned the mixed emotions he was feeling about having his very own red Mustang convertible with camel interior, explaining that after wanting this car for so long he wasn’t sure how it would feel to actually have it. What would he dream about now?

The conversation we were having was about a car, at least that’s what it would have sounded like to a casual observer, but knowing my dad like I do it was obviously about so much more than just a car. The car represents not just his childhood dream, but now it also seems to embody the humbling reality that he can afford his dream car. What an incredibly blessing. He didn’t seem to have regrets that it had taken this long to get the car – since every instance of waiting was an example of making other things, like family, a priority – and at the same time he also wasn’t overcome with excitement about finally getting the car he’d always wanted.

I’m not sure what word describes my dad’s spirit this morning, and that’s probably because he was experiencing a culmination of memories and emotions that covered every dimension of his adult life, and for certain that’s a lot more than I can comprehend, but what I can say is just riding in a car and talking with my dad this morning is something I’ll never forget.

There are two moments in particular I’ll always remember about today, and thankfully I had the presence of mind to capture them both on video.

Pulling up next to his new car:

Reflecting on his dream car and driving it off the lot:

A co-worker sent me the link to an article today from the NY Times. It was an op-ed written by guest columnist Bono titled “It’s 2009. Do You Know Where Your Soul Is?” The title asks an interesting question; one that could take a conversation (or article in this case) in several different directions, depending on who was doing the talking or writing. (Note: Bono is a Christian–of the Catholic variety, I believe.) The column was published a few weeks ago, which doesn’t make it any less relevant today (or whenever you’re reading this…which I suppose will always be a “today”), but it’s worth noting when it was written because the article was written from the perspective of someone who just recently journeyed through Lent and celebrated Easter.

Here’s an excerpt from the column, but to read the entire thing you’ll have to jump over to the NY Times website.

Christianity, it turns out, has a rhythm — and it crescendos this time of year. The rumba of Carnival gives way to the slow march of Lent, then to the staccato hymnals of the Easter parade. From revelry to reverie. After 40 days in the desert, sort of …

Carnival — rock stars are good at that.

“Carne” is flesh; “Carne-val,” its goodbye party. I’ve been to many. Brazilians say they’ve done it longest; they certainly do it best. You can’t help but contract the fever. You’ve got no choice but to join the ravers as they swell up the streets bursting like the banks of a river in a flood of fun set to rhythm. This is a Joy that cannot be conjured. This is life force. This is the heart full and spilling over with gratitude. The choice is yours …

It’s Lent I’ve always had issues with. I gave it up … self-denial is where I come a cropper. My idea of discipline is simple — hard work — but of course that’s another indulgence.

Then comes the dying and the living that is Easter.

It’s a transcendent moment for me — a rebirth I always seem to need. Never more so than a few years ago, when my father died. I recall the embarrassment and relief of hot tears as I knelt in a chapel in a village in France and repented my prodigal nature — repented for fighting my father for so many years and wasting so many opportunities to know him better. I remember the feeling of “a peace that passes understanding” as a load lifted. Of all the Christian festivals, it is the Easter parade that demands the most faith — pushing you past reverence for creation, through bewilderment at the idea of a virgin birth, and into the far-fetched and far-reaching idea that death is not the end. The cross as crossroads. Whatever your religious or nonreligious views, the chance to begin again is a compelling idea.

Interestingly enough, I will be attending a forum at Luther Seminary this Thursday, May 7 titled “Pop Culture, Worship and the Work of Justice: why Bono keeps trying to save the world.” It’s part of a year-long series of forums on “Mission and Ministry” and the presenter this week will be Dr. Chris Scharen, assistant professor of worship at Luther Seminary. I believe the forums are open to the public, so if you don’t have lunch plans feel free to stop over to the Olson Campus Center, Thursday at noon.

About a year ago, Luther Seminary launched a new website called workingpreacher.org. Dubbed as a place “where interpretation meets imagination,” it’s been incredibly successful so far — as determined by things like web traffic, forwarded links and podcast subscriptions — but regardless of how much attention the site has received, it’s primarily been praised as a great resource for pastors and church leaders who are striving to faithfully engage Scripture in the life of their ministry; in particular, by helping them preach sermons that speak into the real lives of real people.

Although it was created by a Lutheran seminary, the site’s content comes from contributors representing several varieties of Christian faith…and they write, speak and offer commentary on things far beyond just the Bible. For instance, my advisor from when I was a seminary student (Andrew Root, who is Presbyterian) recently wrote an article titled “Gran Torino, Christology, and the American Sensibility for Sacrifice” in response to Clint Eastwood’s last movie. And from the video-interview section of workingpreacher (called “Preaching Moments”), here’s Dr. Root talking about how he views religion as an unconventional category.

Pay close attention to what he says starting around the 4:10 mark (follow along with my quote-notes below).

“I wonder if our preaching wouldn’t be more inclusive…if it had something at stake and asked existential questions like “What is a lifetime and why do we live it?” and “Where does God encounter us in the midst of these big questions?” I think part of it is making the pulpit a place where perplexity – where doubt – is spoken and shared in the community. Where we really face darkness together. Where we really stare down darkness, in the the thickness of life….and I think part of the reason younger populations of people don’t hear much in preaching is because they don’t hear anything that’s at stake, and there’s no one who seems to want to, in this moment, bear reality.”

I know many of you aren’t preachers and even fewer use terms like “existential questions” in your everyday life, but I’m confident that visiting a site like workingpreacher.org might be an interesting stop to occasionally throw in between your email, facebook and espn.com. Give it a try…it comes with a money back guarantee!

Some people have been wondering (hopefully), what happened to the guy who writes anewdoxology.com? A few people have even noticed (potentially), how come there’s nothing new on anewdoxology.com since the middle of January?

Well, I am he and I have no explanation or excuse other than this bulleted list:

• My new job = lots of travel = no new posts for over 6 weeks
• Trying to write new posts on airplanes = only getting half way done before landing….never to open the word doc again (oops!)
• Example of a half-written piece = “A Theological perspective of the Minnesota Timberwolves: how the NBA’s worst team can teach us about Martin Luther.” Seriously folks, this one would’ve been good. I actually got about 2.5 pages into it back in January (when the Wolves started the month by winning 10 out of 12 games and finally looked like a good team) and I was using analogies like how the different coaching styles exemplify (or even personify) Luther’s distinction of God as both Law and Gospel (Randy Wittman representing “Law” – that which condemns, and Kevin McHale being “Gospel” – that which frees). Since then Al Jefferson had a season-ending knee injury and the team has returned to their early-season ways (losing), so I haven’t had much motivation to finish (and as a season ticket holder, I haven’t had much motivation to go to games either).
• Twitter. I joined twitter nation. Still not sure if I like it, but if you want to be part of the experiment, follow me. I don’t update my status very often, certainly not as often as some of the folks I’m following…which, by the way, is probably the most entertaining part of the whole thing. Here are some examples of the fascinating insights I’ve learned about/from other people since becoming a tweet (= person on twitter)…
  - P. Diddy: “Don’t be scared!!! Jump into Gods arms and let him take you to the next level!!!! Let’s go people!!!”
  - Tina Fey: “Let’s put our cards on the table: I dutch oven you -hilarious. You dutch oven me -I barf in the bed.”
  - Stephen Colbert: “Librarians are hiding something.
  - Shaq: “Weee weee wha weee weee wha weee wee weeee what’s song is this”
  - Jimmy Fallon: “I want to buy stock in Duraflame. Those fake logs are pretty fantastic.”

• Speaking of Jimmy Fallon, I just read an article in USA TODAY reviewing his first week as host of NBC’s new late night talk show in which this optimistic suggestion/compliment was given: “You shouldn’t purposely stay up late to see Late Night, but if you are up, you shouldn’t avoid it.”
• Life lesson #1: Taking a risk is (almost) always worth it…regardless of whether or not you get what you were hoping for. Don’t miss the lesson buried in the (potential/actual) disappointment.
• Life Lesson #2: I’m not in college anymore. I know this is true, but being on my old college campus the last few days has forced me to remember this fact in a very real way. (Noteworthy aside: While staying at a hotel in my old college town last night, I ordered a medium “med bread” pizza, expecting it to still be less than $5 – the minimum order for delivery – so I added a 20 oz. Coke (to make it a more “balanced” meal). I was shocked when the college kid working at Pizza Ranch told me the total was $11.50! Things have changed. But hey, I’m not in college anymore…I can afford eleven dollar pizza!)
• Final thought: I spend a lot of time on college campuses speaking with students about vocation and calling; sometimes talking about the opportunities available to them at seminary, but always discussing the struggle involved with being a person of faith and integrity in whatever career(s) they decide to pursue. It’s an honor to be part of these conversations. IF anyone would like to talk about the ways they feel God calling them to use their natural interests/talents/passions to meet the needs of the world (whether you’re quite certain or utterly confused about what shape this might take), please let me know.