His mother died of cancer when Jack (as C. S. was nicknamed) was nine, and he and his brother Warnie were sent away to a brutal boarding school. When he finally escaped to begin his studies at Oxford University he was dispatched to the bloody battlefields of the First World War where his friend Paddy Moore died in the final months of the conflict. They had made a pact that if either of them were killed in battle the survivor would care for the other's family and so after returning from war, the bachelor Lewis brothers Jack and Warnie (who struggled with alcoholism) shared a home with Mrs. Moore (who was very difficult to live with) and her daughter Maureen.

This rather stressful domestic arrangement lasted for more than thirty years until 1951 when Mrs. Moore died after a long illness. For many years Jack had to juggle demanding domestic duties with his ever-increasing academic and literary responsibilities. There is no question that his life was overwhelming when he wrote the Chronicles of Narnia - so much so that his friends, including J. R. R. Tolkien, wondered why he was wasting his precious time writing a multi-volume set of children's novels. Little did anyone realize that these short books would become a publishing phenomena selling more than 100 million copies in 41 languages.

What is their universal appeal? Why have they continued to be so popular? Why did Lewis write them in the first place?

I suspect that part of the reason he wrote books for children was because of the experiences of his own childhood. And, perhaps the world of Narnia was the only place where he could escape some of the harsh realities of his daily existence.

But Narnia is not a place for escape. In fact, Narnia is a place where we are challenged to face ourselves with utter honesty, where we are invited to accept responsibility for who we are, and where we are thrust into situations where we realize how helpless we really are on our own.

Only then may we be ready to perceive Aslan the Lion King of Narnia for who he is: not a roaring dumb animal, but the talking and singing supreme King of all Narnia. And more than that, we begin to recognize how much we really need and want a relationship with this Lion of all lions.

But sometimes our own strengths and gifts get in the way. Eustace, an obstinate, bratty boy who gets thrust into fighting for his own life on the seas of Narnia, is so intelligent and sharp with his tongue that he fails time and again to recognize the great and awesome creatures of Narnia for who they are.

Lewis's towering intellect and brilliance with words also got in the way of his life. Before converting to Christ, he thought he could make his own way in the world. But life in the world soon caught up with him, and he came face-to-face with his own depravities and the need for Christ to save him from himself.

Is Christmas an opportunity for us to escape the harsh realities of the world? Do we long to create a make-believe world of "chestnuts roasting on an open fire" and beautifully wrapped presents under the tree?

Earlier this decade I came across a poem by a contemporary English writer, Martin Wroe, who challenged me with his rather earthy retelling of the Christmas story:

Are you flesh of our flesh, Bone of our bones? . . .
Is that you Baby J
Word of the Father?
Now in flesh appearing
Is that you screaming as you arrived
Like the rest of us
Screaming at the shock of the new
The shock of the cold and the old
and the broken Is that you Baby J?
Covered in blood and grunge and straw
When moments before you had been covered in glory?

It was an awful come down, or as the Nicene Creed puts it, "God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God . . . for us and for our salvation came down from heaven" - a 'come down' with a glorious purpose.

In his coming, he didn't shun the flesh, the bones, the blood, the grunge, the straw of our world. But chose to embrace and be embraced by them. The nativity narrative is a story of radical inclusion: God showing us how much he loves us by being the God who not only creates us but also embraces our humanity - and impoverished, desolate humanity at that. His divine plan of love and redemption is not just for or about humanity, but his plan is so radical that he even goes to the extent of making humanity part of his own being.

Jesus' birth set the stage for the rest of his life. He didn't escape from human existence, and he didn't insulate himself from its hard realities. He faced the temptations that face people of every place and generation. He came face-to-face with the possibility of rebelling against God the Father. His life wasn't a game of "let's pretend." The King - of nature and of the super-natural, of the temporal and of eternity - came willing "to live and die as one of us" (Eucharistic Prayer B).

We too can live not just in our natural and temporal and sinful existence, but also as children of God's supernatural and eternal reality.

"To all who did RECEIVE him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to BECOME the children of God, who were born not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God." (John 1:11 & 13).

The first step to receiving this gift is being willing to acknowledge that we have a need, that we cannot make it on our own. Jesus will not force himself upon anyone - neither does Aslan force himself on Eustace. But if we are willing to admit that we have a need, that life is not as it should be, if we are ready to face into our own helplessness, then we are already on the way to a new life.

We are to become the "children of God." What an amazing offer.

If you haven't read the book or seen the movie yet, I don't want to spoil it for you. But suffice it to say that Eustace must learn humility and his need for Aslan the hard way.

May we avoid learning the hard way. During this Christmastide and New Year, may we simply receive and believe in Jesus the Messiah, allowing him to profoundly transform our lives. And may we lead others to do the same.

Your brother in Christ, +Martyn

---The Rt. Rev'd Martyn Minns is a missionary bishop with CANA and a bishop in the Anglican Church of North America