Hogwarts and Holiness

Gerald J. Mast

First Mennonite Church

August 30, 2009

Deuteronomy 4:1-2; 6-9

James 1:17-27

This summer I was trying to encourage my children to read books rather than watch T.V., and so I read my daughter Anna the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, which as most of you know, is the first of seven books in the best-selling Harry Potter series. Given how many kids around the world have been sucked into the world of Harry Potter and have thus been seduced into lugging around books that are almost the size of the Martyrs Mirror, I thought this was a good strategy to encourage reading, fight digital hegemony, and exercise the arm muscles. However, as it turns out, like many parents around the world, I was promptly sucked into the story myself and in fact did not relinquish the book to Anna until I had finished reading the whole thing and had managed to rustle up a DVD copy of the movie. I then begged, borrowed, or bought the rest of the volumes of the series, along with their DVD movie counterparts, and spent the better part of three weeks reading and watching Harry Potter save the wizarding world from dementors, Death Eaters and the dreaded You-Know-Who Dark Lord.

I was helped in this summer diversion when I realized that these stories could be made to have something to do with the sermon I was going to prepare for this morning. That way I could piously remark to the rest of my family that I needed to go work on my sermon as I headed for the couch and the nearby pile of Harry Potter books. Along the way I discovered that making academic or spiritual excuses for reading Harry Potter is not an original idea with me, as it turns out that there are many people out there writing books and articles with titles like: Harry Potter and Philosophy, The Gospel according to Harry Potter, The Ivory Tower and Harry Potter, and—believe it or not—If Harry Potter Ran General Motors. Some of the titles are not that creative. The latest academic book about Harry Potter, hot off the press, is called—drum roll please—Reading Harry Potter Again.

A good deal of ink has been spilt in the debate among religious critics over whether the Harry Potter stories confirm or undermine Christian faith, a debate that seems largely to have been won by those who find the virtues celebrated in these books to be consistent with biblical Christianity. Even many conservative Christians now acknowledge that the world of Harry Potter is a world that can help children understand the God of the Bible. For example, the Christian Broadcasting Network website currently includes links to articles with titles such as “Christian Lessons in Harry Potter” and “Can you use Harry Potter to share the Gospel?”

This morning I want to look more closely at the practices of education that J.K. Rowling describes taking place at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It’s my view that we can find some important clues in these stories about the way Christian education works, about how we can teach our children and one another to “hear the decrees and laws” of the God of the Bible, and about how to practice religion that is pure and faultless. In other words, I hope to show that there is a good deal to learn from Hogwarts about holiness. My sermon is focused around three classes that are taught at Hogwarts: The History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and The Care of Magical Creatures. I will draw on J. K. Rowling’s descriptions of these classes in order to encourage us as we train our children and one another in the school of Christ through our Christian Education work, our worship practices, and our commitment to church schooling.

THE HISTORY OF MAGIC AND THE STORY OF THE BIBLE

First, let’s look at the History of Magic, taught by a ghost, Cuthbert Binns, and quite clearly the most boring class at Hogwarts. No one except the slightly geeky and book-loving Hermione Granger seems to have any regard for this class, which seems to be an old-fashioned lecture course, based on an old-fashioned textbook—The History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot. And yet, Hermione’s devotion to the details of history—however much the rest of her friends scoff at her enthusiasm—helps to save the day repeatedly as Harry and his friends struggle against dark and dangerous powers throughout the stories. Hermione is often exasperated at the lack of historical curiosity exhibited by Harry and his sidekick Ron and she frequently needs to correct their flawed reasoning when it is based on false premises that display an appalling forgetfulness about the past.

It’s clear in these stories that even though the study of history can feel unnecessary or irrelevant, such knowledge is absolutely crucial to good work and intelligent action. In the Harry Potter stories, the knowledge of the past is discovered in the pages of books that Hermione finds in the Hogwarts library and carries with her for spare time reading. It is also discovered in the pensieve, a stone receptacle where the school’s headmaster Professor Dumbledore stores memories of his own and those of others who can help him reconstruct what happened in the past. Whatever the technology used to store and retrieve memory, there is no doubt that without access to such memory the mission undertaken by Harry Potter and his friends in these stories cannot be accomplished.

In one of my favorite parts of the last book in the series, Harry and Hermione are deciding where to go next to look for horcruxes—soul-saving devices that Harry is on a mission to destroy. Hermione thinks it is obvious that one of the horcruxes would be hidden in a sword at a place called Godric’s Hollow, because she read in The History of Magic that the sword’s owner was born there. She is frustrated at Harry’s inability to make the connection and expresses her frustration by asking him whether he has ever even opened A History of Magic, to which he replies lamely that maybe when he first bought it. Hermione then pulls out her copy of the book and reads to him the passages that identify the important people who lived there, including the owner of the sword. Here, as in so many other moments in the Harry Potter stories, Hermione’s ability to recite the details of the past assists her friends in knowing how to act in the present.

This same regard for history and memory pervades the Bible. In the passages prior to the text from Deuteronomy that Anna read this morning, for example, Moses tells the story of how the people of Israel were led to the boundaries of Canaan and after dithering in anxiety ended up wandering in the wilderness for 40 years. Now, anticipating the holy mission to enter and inhabit the Promised Land, Moses prepares them for their task by reminding them of the faith and failure of the past and urging them now to remember the God of their ancestors and the statutes and ordinances they were given. God’s people can really only understand the purpose and meaning of the actions they are called to undertake in relationship to the unfolding story that precedes them and that provides a horizon within which their life choices make sense.

We too, as followers of Jesus Christ, need to know the story of Israel and the patriarchs, of Jesus and the church, of the apostles and prophets and martyrs of our past. We need to know about the faith and the failure of our ancestors so that we are able to grasp the challenges that face us, as well as the pitfalls to avoid and the practices that will help. We can find this knowledge in church history books like the Martyrs Mirror, in biographies of faithful Christian leaders, and in listening to the stories of our elders, something Louise helps us do in every issue of MennoLife. Of course, the most important text for knowing the history of the Christian faith is the Bible.

As the book of the church, the Bible provides the core stories that help us remember who we are and how we got to the place we are at right now. Our Christian education program for children at First Mennonite rightly focuses on teaching the stories of the Bible and remembering what God has done for our faith ancestors in the past. At former Bluffton University president Elmer Neufeld’s funeral a few months ago, it was reported that in the middle of complex and difficult decisions, it was common for Elmer to ask the question, “What does the Book say?” By this he meant to bring into the decision-making process the wisdom and guidance discovered in the study of the Scriptures. Hopefully, the children and adults who are part of Christian education at First Mennonite Church are learning to ask and discuss the question, “What does the Book say?” When we ask that question, of course, we discover that the Book has more than history in it. Closely related to the stories are the statutes and ordinances—practices that enable us to carry out the holy mission that God has entrusted to his people.

DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS AND THE MISSION OF THE CHURCH

This brings us to the second class from Hogwarts that I want to discuss today—Defense Against the Dark Arts—a class that is so challenging, no professor manages to last in the position for more than one academic year. In the class, students practice magical techniques for resisting spells and curses and other dark realities. They are forbidden to use unforgiveable curses, including those that control, torture, or kill other people, while at the same time they are given tools to resist such curses. The purpose of the class is clearly to educate young people about how to resist the forces of darkness without themselves succumbing to the darkness.

If History of Magic is the most boring class at Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts is clearly the most exciting. That is because this class is not about abstractions or theories but about practicing the art of self-defense. Students are given the opportunity to try out their skills in practice sessions, to the extent that attending the class can sometimes be dangerous. One year, however, the new teacher of the class, Professor Umbridge, runs an entirely theory-based class, forbidding the actual practice of defensive spells, sparking an uprising among students who formed their own extra-curricular group for practicing such spells, led by Harry Potter. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, it is clear that the only way to really know is to practice.

So, too, the knowledge of God’s rules and statutes only sticks with us if we actually put these rules and statutes into practice. “Do not merely listen to the word, do what it says” we heard from the book of James. “Follow the decrees and laws of the Lord your God,” we heard from the book of Deuteronomy. In Telford Work’s theological commentary on the book of Deuteronomy, he observes that “the Torah’s wisdom and understanding of God becomes perceptible and accessible only when done.”

The rules we have been given to do help us keep from being “polluted by the world,” so that we can become God’s holy people, called out of darkness into his marvelous light. The work of remaining unpolluted by the world is not a work of withdrawal from or of being afraid of the world. Listen again to these words from the passage that Anna read: “Observe them carefully, for this will show your wisdom and understanding to the nations, who will hear about all these decrees and say, ‘surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people. What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the Lord our God is near us whenever we pray to him?’” We see here that the work of holiness, of being set apart from the world’s darkness, is so that we can remember our mission and so that our lives demonstrate the love and goodness of God to the nations around us. That is the reason for these commandments that God’s people have been remembering and failing to remember for thousands of years now: worship God alone, refuse idolatry; avoid the misuse of God’s name; keep the Sabbath; honor your parents; do not kill; do not commit adultery; do not steal; do not tell a lie about your neighbor; do not covet what does not belong to you. We follow these rules so that we do not forget who we are and so that the nations can see the light of God.

I find it interesting that through the rules and practices of classes like Defense against the Dark Arts, Harry is also being prepared a specific and complex mission, in which, as his godfather Sirius tells him at one point: “the world isn’t split into good people and death eaters.” In such a complicated world, one must be ready not only to recognize the darkness within one’s self, but also the flicker of light in the enemy. Just as the rules against unforgiveable curses in Harry Potter’s world provide guidance in the struggle to fight the death-eaters without becoming one yourself, so the rules against killing and coveting in the world of the Bible assist us in our struggle to overcome evil with good, without being overcome by evil.

That is why in the sixth chapter of the letter to the Ephesians, the armor of God features the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. “Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world,” we are told in verse 12 of Ephesians 6.

I am glad that our children will have the opportunity this fall to study the arts of conflict transformation at a special conference to be held at the Lion and Lamb Peace Arts Center. I am glad that they are learning to practice the arts of worship by contributing their musical and artistic gifts, reading the scriptures publically, and assisting with the offering in our worship services. And I am glad that through our practices of communion, of potlucks, of assembling school kits for MCC, and of making decisions together about climate control in this building, we are all of us learning how to put on God’s armor in order to carry out the mission of the church, to make disciples of the nations, and to teach all the things of Christ by our daily lives.

THE CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES AND THE LOVE OF THE WORLD

The third class at Hogwarts I want to look at this morning is a class called the Care of Magical Creatures, taught by Rubeus Hagrid, a half giant who is also the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Students in the class encounter Hagrid’s inimitable love for all kinds of dangerous and scary creatures, including hippogriffs and blast-ended screwts, both of which pose mortal threats to the lives of students. Harry, Ron, and Hermione also know that Hagrid harbors a love for fire-breathing dragons and lethal spiders called acromantulas.

Hagrid seems committed to the proposition that monsters are really only just misunderstood loveable creatures and that with care and persistence, they can be befriended and pacified. For example, he tries to show his students how to touch and even ride a hypogriff by first bowing to them in order to avoid offending their pride. Harry, Ron, and Hermione learn from him that the three headed dog named Fluffy who is guarding the Sorcerer’s stone can be put to sleep by playing music to it.

This loving posture toward lethal monstrous creatures modeled by the teaching of Hagrid bears a close resemblance to the love of this world and its creatures that is cultivated by the prophetic vision of the coming peaceable kingdom in the Bible. Hagrid lives as if the peaceable kingdom has arrived; he has the capacity to recognize what is beautiful about scary creatures. Even when the monsters harm him or his students, he is unable to change his basic stance of generous love toward all creatures great and small.

Just as Hagrid encourages his students to care for magical creatures, even when such care is risky, so are Christians called by God to love the fearfully and wonderfully made creation that surrounds us. My friend Scott Holland writes that “there is both a tenderness and a terror in nature.” Awareness of both the tender and terrifying aspects of our creaturely home is part of the task of Christian education. That is because we know that the reconciliation accomplished by the work of Jesus Christ is not only reconciliation with God, not only reconciliation with our enemies, but also reconciliation with the whole alienated creation. “If anyone is in Christ,” the scriptures teach us, “there is a new creation.” Karl Barth puts it well when he says that the one “who has to fight and despise the world is the one to whom it still means something, whom it can still tempt and attack.” Barth is referring here to the power of the resurrection to remake the world, for the reconciliation of all things to invade the disorder and violence of the present dying world.

Since God so loved this world that he sent his only Son to save it, even at the cost of the Son’s suffering and death, we too are free to love this blessed fallen world, even though it is still full of dangerous creatures. Christian education must teach love for this world in all of our words and deeds, whether that takes place amidst the memorable rituals of church camping at Friedenswald, or in the challenges of cross-cultural experiences in Paraguay or Honduras or in the disciplined study of the liberal arts and sciences at Bluffton University.

The holiness to which we are called sees a highway through the parched desert and through the rejoicing wilderness, where the eyes of the blind are opened, the ears of the deaf are opened, water gushes forth, and there are streams in the desert. We discover that highway whenever we follow the decrees and rules of the Lord God, whenever we care for widows and orphans, whenever we extend ourselves to the neighbor in trust and love.

The good news that Moses was urging Israel to accept in the book of Deuteronomy is that “the Lord our God is near us whenever we pray to him.” And because our God has drawn near, we can draw near to our neighbors. The rules and decrees, you see, are rules for friendship, rules for love, rules for the new humanity that is being made visible in the people of God.

The Harry Potter stories teach us about this kind of friendship, too. The mission that Harry Potter is called to undertake is not one that he is able to accomplish alone. He and his friends, from Professor Dumbledore and Rubeus Hagrid to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, and a hundred others who join him in the mission to overcome the death-eaters, are completely dependent on one another. They decide to trust each other and to stick together, rather than to covet and betray one another. They work together, bearing one another’s burdens, and forgiving each other’s failures. They recognize that each one contributes something different to their common mission and that they are stronger together than alone.

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends,” Jesus taught. This greater love is, of course, the first and final purpose of Christian education, whether in the sanctuary or the classroom, in a mentoring activity or a bed time story, in youth group or venture club, in Jubilate or Chancel choir. In all of these activities of the church and so many more, we remember how God has graciously acted in history to save us, we follow the rules and decrees that God has given us, and we extend ourselves in trust and love to one another and to the whole tender and terrifying creation, knowing that the reconciling work God has begun in us will be brought to completion through Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God.