Harry Potter and Magic—The Best I Have Read on This

By Alan Jacobs, of course, from the January, 2000, First Things. His last two paragraphs follow, but you really ought to read the whole thing.

In this sense the strong tendency of magic to become a dream of power—on the importance of this point Lynn Thorndike, Keith Thomas, and C. S. Lewis all agree—makes it a wonderful means by which to focus the theme of Bildung, of the choices that gradually but inexorably shape us into certain distinct kinds of persons. Christians are perhaps right to be wary of an overly positive portrayal of magic, but the Harry Potter books don’t do that: in them magic is often fun, often surprising and exciting, but also always potentially dangerous.

And so, it should be said, is the technology that has resulted from the victory of experimental science. Perhaps the most important question I could ask my Christian friends who mistrust the Harry Potter books is this: is your concern about the portrayal of this imaginary magical technology matched by a concern for the effects of the technology that in our world displaced magic? The technocrats of this world hold in their hands powers almost infinitely greater than those of Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort: how worried are we about them, and their influence over our children? Not worried enough, I would say. As Ellul suggests, the task for us is “the measuring of technique by other criteria than those of technique itself,” which measuring he also calls “the search for justice before God.” Joanne Rowling’s books are more helpful than most in prompting such measurement. They are also—and let’s not forget the importance of this point—a great deal of fun.

It All Ends Tonight

w00t! We have tickets to the midnight show of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 for tonight at 12:01am.  Mackenzie, Chase, Kayleigh, Matt, and I will all arrive early at Carmike Wynnsong in Mounds View for the fun and festivities. Well, actually, we just want to see the other fans in costume and watch the final installment of a great story and a cultural phenomenon.

I know the Cherokee Hills subdivision pool boy will be there. What about you? Stop by the biggest screen and say hi if you go.

The Power of Love in Little Things

This morning in the shower doubtful thoughts about Christianity were attempting to enter into my thinking like 10,000 Uruk-Hai trying to enter Helm’s Deep. Relentlessly. These thoughts made sense, at least it seemed like they did while bleary eyed under the warming spray. They breached the gate on multiple occasions with the only voice of true resistance being the thought that I knew I was tired, I knew I was still fighting post-vacation traumatic stress disorder, and I knew my prayer life and Bible time had suffered while visiting family and driving 5,000 miles. Therefore, even though I couldn’t fully refute these arguments right now, I would be able to later when I was more awake and less weary.

The strongest thought trying to gain entry was not that Jesus didn’t exist or that God wasn’t real, but that he wasn’t so much relevant now as he was 2,000 years ago. After all, we haven’t really heard from him since he ascended into heaven, and his book has been torn asunder by generations of exegetes (or eisegetes, as the case may be), many of whom have found far too many differences in one text. If thousands of scholars over centuries can’t agree on what one book says, how can it be true? How can we know Christianity is still real when our book is so old? How can we differentiate a real movement of the Holy Spirit from a simple event felt by a person who desperately wants to experience something? How do I know the Holy Spirit is real when it seems like most “movements of the Spirit” can be explained by a cynic? How do I really know that Jesus wanted me to sell my house and move from Washington to Minneapolis? How can I pray, even now, that he help me know whether we should buy a house here? Or that my career best matches my gifting? Or that I was meant to be an administrator rather than a pastor?

Jason, I whispered to myself, you are tired. These doubts only have strength because you are tired and weary and mildly depressed about coming home and re-entering the rat race. By God’s grace—and I don’t say that lightly—the doubts receded and I was able to get ready and head off to work, knowing that after this brief reprieve I would have to go out and face the horde of orcs, much like Aragorn and company rested briefly before counter attacking out of the inner keep.

But instead of charging into a renewed battle with gallant courage, knowing that I would face certain death, and then being rescued by Éomer, the Savior came to me sooner, before I even entered the battle again. He came in a couple of blog posts.

The first was by Andrew Peterson about Harry Potter:

I couldn’t get Harry’s story out of my head. I doubled over in the back of the auditorium and sobbed with gratitude to Jesus for allowing his body to be ruined, for facing the enemy alone, for laying down his life for his friends—Jesus, my friend, brother, hero, and king—Jesus, the Lord of Life, who triumphed o’er the grave—who lives that death may die! Even now, writing those words, my heart catches in my throat. In that moment I was able, because of these books, to worship Christ in a way I never had.

Let me be clear: Harry Potter is NOT Jesus. This story isn’t inspired, at least not in the sense that Scripture is inspired; but because I believe that all truth is God’s truth, that the resurrection is at the heart of the Christian story, and the main character of the Christian story is Christ, because I believe in God the Father, almighty maker of heaven and earth and in Jesus Christ his only begotten son—and because I believe that he inhabits my heart and has adopted me as his son, into his family, his kingdom, his church—I have the freedom to rejoice in the Harry Potter story, because even there, Christ is King. Wherever we see beauty, light, truth, goodness, we see Christ. Do we think him so small that he couldn’t invade a series of books about a boy wizard? Do we think him cut off from a story like this, as if he were afraid, or weak, or worried? Remember when Santa Claus shows up (incongruously) in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? It’s a strange moment, but to my great surprise I’ve been moved by it. Lewis reminds me that even Father Christmas is subject to Jesus, just as in Prince Caspian the hosts of mythology are subject to him. The Harry Potter story is subject to him, too, and Jesus can use it however he wants. In my case, Jesus used it to help me long for heaven, to remind me of the invisible world, to keep my imagination active and young, and he used it to show me his holy bravery in his triumph over the grave.

I think it fairly obvious how this passage by Andrew began to fight back the hordes that had been standing outside my mind’s door all morning.

Continuing down the Rabbit Room blog, I read the following about U2, written by Stephen Lamb:

Crawling into bed that night, I picked up the book on my bedside table, Ian Cron’s Chasing Francis, a biography of sorts in which a man documents his spiritual journey through journal entries addressed to St. Francis. I opened the book to the page where I had stopped reading two nights earlier and picked up where I left off. Here’s the first thing I read:

Dear Francis,

A few years ago I went to a U2 concert at Madison Square Garden in New York City, just three months after 9/11. Most of us in the arena that night probably knew someone who’d died in the Twin Towers; we’d lost three people in our church alone. I’ll never forget the end of the concert. As the band played the song “Walk On,” the names of all those who had died were projected onto the arena walls and slowly scrolled up over us, and then up toward the ceiling. At that moment the presence of God descended on that room in a way I will never forget. There we were, twenty-five thousand people standing, weeping, and singing with the band. It suddenly became a worship service; we were pushing against the darkness together. I walked out dazed, asking myself, “What on earth just happened?” Of course, it was the music. For a brief moment, the veil between this world and the world to come had been made thin by melody and lyric. If only for a brief few minutes, we were all believers.

This brief excerpt is not all that caused the next thing to happen. I suggest you read the whole post, but as I completed these two blog posts, an overwhelming feeling of God’s goodness, the Holy Spirit’s presence, and the saving work of Jesus Christ washed over me. My eyes were hot with tears, and I slid my chair back and leaned over my knees and cried. I was not thinking about Harry Potter or U2 at that point. I was worshipping my savior who would deign to take the time to reach out of heaven and touch me, as if to say, “Yes, Jason, I am real and powerful and here 2,000 years later. I don’t always come riding to the rescue like Éomer and Gandalf charging the orcs with 2,000 Rhorrihim at their back. Instead I work through little things, through foolish things, through love and word and deed and art and music and small cold glasses of water. I am even present enough to meet you, right now, through two blog posts. I can touch you and show you, through the written word, that I exist.”

It only lasted a minute, but it was real. I realize that many cynics can, at this point, say I simply had an emotional response to two emotionally charged blog posts. But I don’t think so. I am a doctrinally solid believer in Jesus Christ and his written word. I believe that God speaks primarily through that word. I have a working understanding of proper hermeneutics and theology. I don’t think it is normative for God to touch people like this. Yet, I don’t doubt that in many cases this happens. I am not so naive that I don’t think I will ever doubt again. After all, the Battle of the Pelennor Fields happened after the Battle at Helm’s Deep.

But for now, I am content. Soli Deo Gloria.

What Do We Choose to Imagine?

What do we choose to imagine, when we choose? The answer is always revelatory, which is one of the reasons Chesterton was right to say that “the simple need for some kind of ideal world in which fictitious persons play an unhampered part is infinitely deeper and older than the rules of good art, and much more important.” The Harry Potter books remind us of this, and they can be, if we read them rightly, both a delight in themselves and a school for our own imaginings. They have many flaws, but I have not dwelt on them here because I forgive J. K. Rowling for every one. Her seven books are, and thank God for it, always on the side of life.

— Alan Jacobs, “The Youngest Brother’s Tale,” in Wayfaring, p. 80

Older Than the Rules of Good Art

Then came riding into the fray a young man — twenty-five at the time — named Gilbert Keith Chesterton, who, though a young journalist and an intellectual himself, repudiated the hand-wringing of his colleagues and planted his flag quite firmly in the camp of the penny dreadfuls: “There is no class of vulgar publications about which there is, to my mind, more utterly ridiculous exaggeration and misconception than the current boys’ literature of the lowest stratum.” Chesterton is perfectly happy to acknowledge that these books are not in the commendatory sense “literature,” because “the simple need for some kind of ideal world in which fictitious persons play an unhampered part is infinitely deeper and older than the rules of good art, and much more important. Every one of us in childhood has constructed such an invisible dramatis personae, but it never occurred to our nurses to correct the composition by careful comparison with Balzac.”

— Alan Jacobs, “The Youngest Brother’s Tale,” in Wayfaring, p. 71

Questions from Harry

Now that our family’s friendship with Harry Potter is public knowledge, I can begin to move into what I really want to write about. In previous posts, I wrote the story of how we came to enjoy the Potter books, but my real point in doing this was so I can work through questions that have been rattling around in my head.

Having read the Potter series, faced my own prejudices, and met some similar prejudices in others, I have the following questions…

1)  Why do so many Christians have such a negative view of Harry Potter, and is this view justified?

2)  Why does the magic in Harry Potter pose a problem for Christians, or does it? Should it?

3)  Is it OK for Christians to read Harry Potter?

4)  More broadly, is it OK for Christians to read non-Christian fiction? In other words, is it OK for Christians to read anything but Christian theology and other related Christian-living books? If yes, then why do those of us who do often get sideways glances from other Christians?

5)  What exactly is literature, and could Harry Potter be considered literature?

6)  What is escapist fiction and can it be read, too?

7)  What other questions should I be asking and thinking through?

Fears of the Father: Harry Potter

My children began complaining about having nothing to read in early summer 2010. Please try to understand how painful this is. Mackenzie and Chase had just finished 9 months of Omnibus. They had read thousands of pages for school and suddenly had nothing to read. They have read everything in the house, and had been to the library repeatedly. Kayleigh had read her entire fifth grade reading list by February and had spent the last four months writing her own 45-page story about a princess kidnapped by a neighboring kingdom and rescued by the blacksmith’s son. “Dad, I am so sad. We don’t have anything to read,” was the continual refrain.

Now, granted, this statement wasn’t entirely true. I often pointed out Dostoevsky, Dumas, and Dickens to name a few. No takers. They wanted something fun to read. Hah.

If you were a father, looking at two more months of summer, what would you have done? Probably not what I did. Yes, I did it. I told them to read Harry Potter. It was, after all, a big fat juicy fantastical story. It was seven books with 4,100 (exactly) pages. It could keep them busy for at least a week! Not only this, but men who I trusted biblically, spiritually, and theologically really enjoyed these books. So, given these considerations, I did it, I told the kids to read the Potter series.

To my amazement, the kids had imbibed my fear and contempt toward the Potter books. At first they said no; they were not going to read it. However, Chase, being the brave one, started in on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone sometime in July. Mackenzie couldn’t hold out and started reading book one after Chase was in book two. Kenz is a faster reader, so she was on Chase’s tail in no time. I did not allow her to start a book until he finished, to which great complaining arose. Finally, in book four somewhere around Task Two, Chase couldn’t handle the pressure anymore and let her pass him. She finished book seven before he finished book five. Kayleigh finished the series shortly after Chase and then Wendy and I started.

When we learned that the seventh movie would be out in November, they all begged me to get the series read so that we could go to the movie together. They did not believe they could go without me, so they pushed hard. I finished book one on August 30 and book seven on November 7. I started book seven on November 5. Yes, I went into a hole on Friday and didn’t come out until I was done. It was wondrous.

The Abell Six are now Harry Potter fans.

Ripe for the Picking

Between the Voice of Prophecy broadcast and 2004, nothing happened to change my mind from a negative view of Potter. Once we arrived in Minneapolis several events occurred that caused our family to take a dramatic turn.

First, we learned that my pastor and mentor’s family loved Harry Potter. They read the books and saw the movies. In fact, while on sabbatical in Cambridge, they stood in line at the London premiere of Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix. This was shocking to me. How could such an amazing man of God allow a book about sorcery into his home?

Second, I developed an increasingly close friendship with a brilliant theologian and would-be missionary to Finland. I looked up to this devotee of the Reformation and realized quickly that I had little chance of ever grasping the deep things of God like he did. At some point I learned that he had read all seven Potter books in a month-long binge. He loved them.

I was still contemptuous of Harry Potter, just much more quiet about it. Clearly, as brilliant as these men are, they had some disconnect when it came to popular culture.

Third, our family began reading the 100 Cupboards series by N. D. Wilson. Not only was this series written by a solid evangelical, but the story had been compared to the Chronicles of Narnia and was very popular within the home school movement. Clearly these were reason enough to make them acceptable. Since I love fantastical books, and my children were raving about them, I began reading them and was instantly entranced. They were awesome. (I quoted from them here, here, here, and here. I explain why I loved the third book, The Chestnut King, here and here.) Oh yeah, magic and wizards are central to the story.

Fourth, I read On Stories, a collection of essays about stories and literature by C. S. Lewis, finished The Lord of the Rings a second time, and began reading Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy Stories.” Then in June 2010, as a family we read aloud Andrew Peterson’s The Wingfeather Saga, which was similar to 100 Cupboards but much more zany. On Stories argues, in many ways, for the enjoyment of science fiction and fantasy stories. The Rings trilogy does not shy away from an acute depiction of evil, along with strange creatures and magic. Finally, “On Fairy Stories” is Tolkien’s treatise on, well, fairy stories. Much to my liking.

Clearly there is irony in this retelling. How could a person who loves fantasy and heroic fiction so much be contemptuous about fantasy and heroic fiction? I was now ripe, as they say, for the picking.

Defense Against the Dark Arts

Apparently the post at Hogwarts has recently been filled.



(HT: AyJay and litfolksarehip)

A Little Back-story

As I continue with my posts on literature and Harry Potter, I think it helpful to give a bit of back-story. I have been reading fiction my entire life, beginning with my mother and father who read to me faithfully, as well as my sixth grade teacher who read to our class every day, and this reading endeared him to me deeply.

I read the Chronicles of Narnia in third grade, and the rest was history, so to speak; I read a ton of sci-fi / fantasy in high school. I was immersed in all things fanciful. Looking back on my life, it seems my favorite stories have almost always been fantasy (not a bad thing, read this). Furthermore, I love the hero. Whether the hero was a cowboy, a swordsman, or a spy, I love the guy who saves the day and gets the girl.

So, for me to sit in my van and shake my head knowingly as Lonnie Melashenko from Voice of Prophecy criticized J. K. Rowling for her work on the Harry Potter series was overtly hypocritical.

It gets worse, not only did I read a ton of fiction without discernment, but by this time I had not yet completed The Lord of the Rings. Not that I hadn’t tried of course, for I had picked up The Fellowship of the Ring two or three times and only gotten fifty or so pages in before becoming bored. The escapist fiction that I had been saturated in was simpler, easier, and seemingly more exciting.

Now, of course, I know better. I have read through The Lord of the Rings multiple times and have found it deeper, wiser, and more emotionally compelling with each reading. The point I am trying to make is that my understanding of literature and story was very immature back in 1998. It was infantile, which made my unthinking agreement with the radio broadcaster that much worse.

So, not only did I frown on Harry Potter, but I was hypocritical about it as well….

Frowning on Harry

I remember the moment quite vividly. It was sometime in the late 1990s, probably late 1998. I was driving into the garage of our first home, listening to the Voice of Prophecy broadcast on the local Christian radio station. At the time, I did not know that this brief radio program was presented by the Seventh Day Adventists, all I knew is that the guy was a good speaker and his words made sense; he was compelling. (I later parted ways with this broadcaster when he espoused Annihilation.)

It was dark outside, and I was particularly interested in the broadcast because the topic was Harry Potter, who was all the rage in the United States. Of course, I hadn’t read Harry Potter, but had certainly heard about him through the media. The books were wildly popular to say the least.

What I remember is that the speaker, Lonnie Melashenko, was chastising J. K. Rowling for not doing as Tolkien had done, namely, including a Christ figure in her books. Since at this time, only a few (maybe two or three) of the Harry Potter books were published in the US, Lonnie acknowledged that Rowling still had time to get her story right and include the Gandalf-like character who would help redeem the books. The gist of the broadcast (at least how I remember it 11 years later) was that Rowling will not have gotten her story right unless she has a redeeming Christ figure in it.

This broadcast, along with the general Christian milieu in which I lived, reinforced a negative view of Harry Potter that I have carried for years. I was attending a good, gospel-preaching church at the time, yet as I look back, I realize that the theological and intellectual level there was much different than what I am used to now. There was a fundamentalist bent at our church which was afraid of both Halloween and Harry Potter. Whether or not a good Christian family should let their kids out on Halloween was a significant point of discussion. Likewise, reading Harry Potter was frowned on.

The point, then, is that I have carried a negative view of Harry Potter for years….

This post is the first in what I hope will be multiple posts on the subject of literature in general, and Harry Potter in specific (and maybe even a little epistemology thrown in for fun). I want to construct my story/argument carefully, so I will try not to give too much away too soon. Stay tuned for more.