Magic for Muggles

“Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic.”

So declares the wizard Arthur Weasley as Harry Potter explains to him the use of a telephone in Chamber of Secrets. Indeed, Mr. Weasley. Ingenious. But somehow, I fear, troublesome as well.

I recall very well the days when I was adamantly opposed to the Harry Potter series. The reason I primarily cited above all else was that in every interview I heard with little children, they always said their favorite part of the book was the magic. That was dangerous, in my opinion.

Now, truth be told, I had only seen one 30 second news segment, in which the 4 or 5 kids interviewed said that magic was their favorite part. But telling that part of the story wouldn’t help my rhetoric any. “Every interview I’ve ever heard with children” was a much more impressive thing to say.

It turns out that even if it is true that every child adores the magic in the Harry Potter books (and they do), my argument failed terribly anyway, as I would soon find out when I finally sat down and watched the first two movies and then plowed through the five Potter books available at the time. Now, I’ve got a new take on things: The problem is not that kids love magic; it’s that adults do not.

First, let me deal in all brevity with the argument boiling in every anti-Harry mind that reads this, namely, that if kids love magic, they will end up loving Wicca and the occult. I’ll direct you to what I have written previously:

The magic within the Potter books is not even close to modern day Wicca. I once heard a pastor argue that a book would not be “cute” like Harry Potter is if it were about a little girl named Harriette Potter who went to school to learn to be a prostitute. Well, if by “prostitute,” the book meant, “a job in which little girls sell cookies on street corners of a magical world that doesn’t exist,” we might not find the same danger (though we might cringe a little at the word used to describe it).

Or for a more precise distinction, you could check out John Granger’s discussion of invocational vs. incantational magic in his excellent work, Looking for God in Harry Potter.

But let’s get back on task and quickly to the point: modern folks have forgotten the magic of life. Cell phones and computers, PDAs and DVDs, alarm clocks and schedules, bills and bank statements, science and progress have all contributed to relegating the supernatural world to an afterthought, if it is a thought at all.

And if you think the church has kept itself immune from such things by preserving and defending the Bible’s miracles, think about how often you’ve heard Christian apologists trying to explain the presence of one angel at the tomb in one gospel record and two angels in another. Or how about treating Genesis 1 as though it were scientific account of the powerful and magical creation of the world? Can you say, “Missing the point?”

But in the Harry Potter books, right in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the London streets lies an entrance to a magical world where you can see our daily existence from another angle (Diagon-ally) and notice the wonder and splendor of it all. Oh, it’s certainly true that magic is not a quick-fix for the world’s problems. Indeed, the magical world in the Potter books take us has as many problems with evil, prejudice, political corruption, and educational incompetence as the real world. While traveling down Diagon Alley, you could make a wrong turn down Knockturn Alley; but hopefully there’ll be a kind-hearted half-giant there to rescue you, should such an unfortunate event occur.

What I’m getting at is this: we have become Muggles through and through, unable to see the magic of life, and fearful at any glimpse we might get of it. We shake our heads at folks wasting their time on matters of the imagination. I heard a person on the radio just a few nights ago articulate his view that there was no afterlife (which position he defended from the Bible, oddly enough). In the same discussion, this radio talk show caller said with powerful conviction that he doesn’t bother with fiction; he only reads non-fiction.

As if that were something to be proud of. This world is full of magic and mystery, delight and dazzle, and we walk right by it every day without noticing. C.S. Lewis knew this, and that’s why he chose “the deeper magic” to describe the resurrection of Aslan, the Christ of the Narnia books.

So do not be afraid of the magic of Harry Potter. Rather, take a good hard look at the world diagonally, and see if there really is any magic in it. Perhaps somewhere you’ll find that there is more to life than your routine, your bankbook, your appointments, and the grocery list. You’ll find magic in a children’s book, a sunset framed by billowing clouds, the warm embrace of a spouse, the make-believe games of a child, the rhythm and rhyme of song, and in the Almighty Deity who became a man for us and for our salvation.

Tagged as: Magic, theology