Eric Metaxes, a fellow New Yorker, author and friend, brought this BBC interview to my attention today, and I had to share it with my friends in the CL community.

"Great Lives" is a series of biographical discussions with Matthew Parris on the BBC, and in this episode (which aired Dec. 30), actor David Soul champions the life of the German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was involved in the German resistance movement in WWII.

On Friday, my brother rented a car and his family and I traveled to Warwick, England to tour Warwick Castle and the town of Warwick. It was a delightful day, and my first trip to a real castle. The town is enchanting, and the highlight of our trip into town was visiting St. Mary's church there, with a very hospitable receptionist (Rita Roy) and shopkeeper (Rita's husband). 

While looking around the resources on display at St. Mary's, I came across a magazine I had never heard of before - the UK based "Third Way: Christian Comment on Culture." It was not for sale, so I browsed through the copy they had there, and found some similarities between the content and IAM's conversations about a "third language." I plan to read more, but thought I would share with my (mostly-US based) readers the link to Third Way online, where you can read some interesting articles addressing Christian faith and culture. Click here for their web site.

Last night was Christmas Eve, and I am in Oxford, England. So of course, it stands to reason that I would want to visit one of the well-known local churches. As of yesterday afternoon, I hadn't determined where I would go for Christmas Eve service, but in the evening, my brother Matt and I agreed that we would go to St. Mary Magdalen's for midnight mass.

It was my first time in a "high church" service for Christmas Eve, and it was the most beautiful, worshipful Christmas Eve service I have ever been to. Here are a few reasons why:

1) Aesthetics. The church is stunning, with its ornate architecture, high cathedral ceiling, statues, nativity scene and archaic wooden pews. Everything in sight seems to scream out, "You are entering a holy place! Tremble all the earth before Christ the King!" This is very different from my typical worship experience, so my sense of sight was overloaded with symbols of worship - it was very effective; I was brought immediately into a state of awe and reverence.

On Monday night, I flew across the pond to England. My flight was bumpy, so I prayed a lot (and took an account of my life, in case it should end sooner than later), but I managed to get about four hours of sleep, which was important because I had planned to visit a couple of museums before heading on to Oxford, where I will be spending the next ten days. (More on my museum visits in future posts).

Preparing for this joyous celebration of our Lord's birth, this year I have been especially mindful of the fact that, for Christians, Advent is not so much about Christ's birth, as it is about His imminent return. On Sunday, I shared a spontaneous meditation at church on our identity as the light of the world (Matt. 5:14-16), and how, during this season, people are a bit more open to hearing about Christ, so we need to be intentional about letting our light shine before others so they may see our good deeds and give glory to our Father in heaven.

Today I made a really fun discovery.

For the past decade or so, I have been reading through the Bible each odd-numbered year. Most years, I read through my NIV Student Bible, which I got for my Old and New Testament classes freshman year of college (1993, in case you were wondering). But this morning, I decided I wanted to read through the King James Version in 2009, and since I often fall behind and don't finish until well into the following year, I thought I'd be proactive and start early rather than wait until 2009 begins.

SO, I printed out my favorite guide for reading through the Bible - the Discipleship Journal Bible Reading Plan - and found the old brown KJV Bible I received in second grade, which has been on a shelf in each of my homes over the past twenty-six years.

Last night, my Monday night women's Bible study group went Christmas caroling on my street. We sang to about seven houses (that is not including the houses where no one answered the door). We had such a great time laughing, praying, singing and surprising our fellow New Yorkers with some old fashioned Christmas cheer.

It's easier than I thought to connect with my neighbors. I often lament the fact that I mostly know my neighbors only in passing. I have had conversations with a few people, but many I know by face only. But after last night, I now have a new familiarity with each of those we sang to.

I was especially touched by our visit to a family who lives across and down the street a bit from me. I see them all the time, and for the past five years, we have smiled, waved and said "hello" several times. Their little girls love my dog. But I have never stopped to actually talk with them, and have never invited them to church. Last night, when we rang the doorbell, I was feeling a bit shy. What if they're just annoyed? I thought to myself. Much to my delight, when the woman of the house opened the door, she stopped us in the second line of "Joy to the World," saying, "Can I go get my girls?" So we paused our singing until all three of them returned.

It's not even mid-December yet, but I have already received what I think might just be one of my favorite Christmas gifts of 2008. Over Thanksgiving, I exchanged gifts with my brother Rob, sister-in-law Candy and nephew Igor, and one of the things they gave me was a gift certificate for Kiva.

By way of a little background, a book that has been very meaningful to me over the past few years is Ron Sider's "Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger," which I received from my other brother, Matt, several years back. In this book, Sider suggests that one of the best ways to help end poverty is through offering micro-loans, a.k.a. micro credit, which offers small loans to entrepreneurs in developing nations that help them start a business to provide for their families.

Well, the season of Kitschmas is upon us. Kitschmas is the high holiday for all lovers artwork of "tawdry design, appearance, or content created to appeal to popular or undiscriminating taste," according to one dictionary's definition of kitsch.

For eleven months out of the year, I tend to steer clear of kitschy things, but when I start to pull out my Christmas decorations, as I did last night, my heart melts and nostalgia begins to percolate, as I unwrap the many little statues and mugs and ornaments I have accumulated over the years that can only be described as "tawdry, appealing to undiscriminating taste."

I love it. The kitschier the better.

My favorite Christmas Kitsch of all time is my ornament of Santa bowing before the baby Jesus's manger. The first time I saw that image (years ago), I was actually moved to tears. Even now, every year when I unwrap it and place it on my tree, I get choked up, thinking about what it represents. I also love the Lion and Lamb Christmas cards my mom sends out every year (which I save and display annually), and a Christmas snow globe I received as a gift from a Vice President at Elizabeth Arden, where I used to work.

Here is a poem I wrote this week. You may feel free to draw your own conclusions about my inspiration.

MIDNIGHT

There was no warning,
Only wretching,
Sudden and unprovoked.

Springing from sound sleep,
I launched her from the bed
too late
and now
must change
my sheets.

my friend, my sister

whose face reflects God's kindness

is precious to me