John Granger writes that Voldemort

pursues immortality apart from God and the Cross by pouring his soul into physical objects apart from his body. In this, Voldemort is simultaneously a materialist and a dualist—an no longer human, as Dumbledore says, because he fails to understand the power of a human being who is whole, an integer of body and soul, and pure, which is to say, “not rent or split.”^[1]

For me it seems that Voldemort, who undoubtly was highly intelligent, was — philosophically speaking — a nominalist. Nominalism is a metaphysical standpoint that denies the existence of universals and essences. (Like ‘green,’ ‘dog,’ ‘human’ and — ultimately — ‘good’ and ‘evil.’) Nominalism (from latin nomen, ‘name’) originated amongst others in the thought of William of Ockham, a Fransiscan friar who was preoccupied by the theology of scottish scolastic John Duns Scotus. In the late medieval period, Duns Scotus and Thomas Aquinas represented two complementary theological traditions.

Aquinas focused on the category of being, and thus on the nature or essence of God. Duns Scotus, on the other hand, focused on the category of doing (my words), an thus on the works and acts of God. As I have allready pointed out, these two traditions — let’s call them ‘intellectualism’ and ‘voluntarism’ — are complementary. But as time went by, Aquinas’s intellectualism disappeared into the background in the consciousness of the people, while Duns Scotus’s voluntarism got ‘all the attention.’

Enter William of Ockham. He was a voluntarist. But he also didn’t believe that universals had any real existence. He lacked the balance of Aquinas and Duns Scotus. And thus Nominalism crept into the mainstream philosophy. Ockham claimed that only particular things and actions existed, but that their universality — their ‘nature’ or ‘essence’ so to speak — didn’t have any real, ontological existence. Thus whatever we make of a thing, it is. (To point out the absurdity of his philosophical tradition, consider that Ockham — who didn’t believe that there are common, real essences — “was famous for speculating that God might have become incarnate as a stone, a block of wood, or even a donkey.” (Source))

Because God have free will He can do whatever he wants, even make rape a virtue and altruism a vice. This nominalistic idea — even if this wasn’t Ockham’s intention — developed into reductionism and materialism, and also [materialist] atheism and the Nietzschean idea of the Übermensch. In other words, it resulted in Voldemort.

If things (and acts) are only what we make of them, then they have no real value. And nothing is fixed — not even good and evil. As Voldemort himself said it, through prof. Quirrell: “There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it.” What Rowling shows us with the character of Voldemort, and of the prejudices of the wizarding world, is that ideas have consequences. This might sound like a cliché, but that doesn’t make it untrue. In order to fight off the Voldemort’s of our world, we must start with our ideas and concepts. For they reap thoughts. And thoughts reap acts. And acts reap habits. And habits reap destinies.

Sources and notes:

[1] Granger, John (2006) Looking for God in Harry Potter. Updated second edition. Tyndale/Saltriver

A usual assumption is that the Satanic ceremony or service is called a black mass. A black mass is not the magical ceremony practiced by Satanists. The Satanist would only employ the use of a black mass as a form of psychodrama. Furthermore, a black mass does not necessarily imply that the performers of such are Satanists. A black mass is essentially a parody on the religious service of the Roman Catholic Church, but can be loosely applied to a satire on any religious ceremony.

In the Eucharistic liturgy in a Catholic Mass, and also in Orthodox and many lutheran (and probably many others) is the Spirit of the Father [and the Son], flesh from the son and blood from the son, all willingly and knowingly — and lovingly. But when Voldemort is “ressurected,” Wormtail uses flesh, blood and bone:

Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!
Flesh—of the servant—w-willingly given—you will—revive—your master.
B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken . . . you will . . resurrect your foe.

Here we first see that the Spirit is replaced by the bone, unknowingly. Than Than the flesh and blood of the Son — and Master — is replaced by fear and evil. So, any thoughts on this?

I can’t say that I am especially surprised by this revelation. I am, however, disappointed. Revealing such details about characters outside of the books cheapens the books themselves. (…) In an important sense the books ceased to be Rowling’s on the day they were published. The printed books are the canon; we have no desire for an authoritative oral tradition interpreting the books for us. I preferred it when such issues as whether Neville Longbottom would get married or whether Dumbledore was ‘gay’ were open questions and we were left with ambiguities concerning which we could make up our own minds. (…)

I feel uncomfortable about the outing of sexuality in general (not just homosexuality in particular) that is brought about by such revelations. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer the authority figures of children to be thought of in a non-sexual way. I don’t want to be told that Dumbledore or McGonagall are straight or gay. Undoubtedly we are sexual beings, but our sexuality belongs, I believe, within bounds. There are parts of life that should be non-sexualized. This is part of what concerns me about many of the things associated with the ‘outing’ or ‘coming out’ of homosexuals. By defining the person too much in terms of their sexuality, sexuality in general is brought out of the contexts in which it belongs and starts to invade every area of life. (…)

As I believe that homoerotic desire is misdirected desire I do not believe that it should be portrayed as a good thing when we allow this desire to drive us. For this reason the idea of a ‘gay and proud’ Dumbledore saddens me. People who struggle with homoerotic desire are, I believe, struggling with a particular form of the compromised nature that afflicts us all as fallen human beings. I believe that true liberation for human beings with compromised natures (i.e. all of us) cannot be found in mere acceptance of the validity of our misdirected desires, but in the power to overcome our compromised natures, even though the struggle may never end here on earth. This is why any Christian refusal to justify homoerotic desire must be driven by the love for people made in God’s image that refuses to ‘tolerate’ these desires that lead to their being enslaved. How sad it is that Christians are often known for their homophobia, rather than for their strong affirmation of the one who struggles with homoerotic desire as a person made in the image of God, and for a love that refuses to stand idly by and see others being led astray by misdirected desires. For this reason I would be disappointed with a Dumbledore who was proud of his homoerotic desire, even though I like the idea of a Dumbledore who is able to recognize homosexual desire as part of his nature, but is enabled to wrestle with his nature in various ways. If anything, such a Dumbledore is more like the rest of us.

Here is the lyrics:

There was a boy,
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he

And then one day
A magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me
“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return”

Man, this song is a great summary of the Harry Potter books! Why haven’t I made the connection myself?!

Alan Jacobs have written a review/article about Deathly Hallows; The Youngest Brother’s Tale, where he writes some pretty insightful thing about the Harry Potter series. But I feel that he is wrong on at least two important accounts. Let me quote:

The key theme of the whole series is the opposition of death and love: the devastation wrought by those whose fear of death causes them to shun love as a weakness, and, in contrast, the rich rewards in store for those who will not allow the fear of death to block love, who know that love risks all for the beloved. Preceding the events of the first book are the sacrificial deaths of James Potter, in a vain attempt to save his wife and son, and of Lily Potter, in an equally vain attempt to save Harry. In the fourth book of the series the deaths resume: Cedric Diggory in that one, Sirius Black in the next, Albus Dumbledore in the sixth. In this final installment the named dead exceed a dozen, and many more remain unnamed. Among those whom Harry knows and cares for, all of them, in this book and in the previous ones, die for someone they love, or for something they believe in. (…)

Many readers have already exclaimed that Harry’s final quest marks him as a clear Christ figure. This is wrong, seriously wrong, and I think J. K. Rowling goes out of her way to tell us so. People (characters in the books as well as readers) think that Harry is a unique person of unique power, but at a dozen points in the series we are clearly shown that he is not: he is called the Chosen One, but he is chosen by Voldemort, and Dumbledore emphasizes to Harry the sheer contingency of this choice. The work of the Cross is done by Christ alone; Harry always has help. (It’s worth emphasizing that while each of the Horcruxes is destroyed, each is destroyed by a different person.) At his moment of agony Christ was abandoned; at the end of his quest Harry is supported and comforted. As my friend Jay Wood has noted, if Harry resembles a biblical figure it is not Christ but rather Stephen the Protomartyr. But the comparisons with Stephen are limited too: for a more precise analogue, I encourage you to rummage through your children’s books until you find an old copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Surely you have one. Read the story of the Three Brothers, and pay particular attention to the youngest. You’d be surprised what you could learn.

I would not say that Lily Potter’s attempt to save Harry was in vain. Firstly it did in fact work, he didn’t die. Secondly, I feel that it’s wrong to call sacrificial love “vain.” But this might be a “slip of the keyboard,” as one of the commentators over at HogPro put it. It may be that he only meant that she died in the process, and that Voldemort didn’t grant her dying wish. But it was a very weird sentence indeed.

I firmly believe that Harry is a Christ figure, but he isn’t a new Aslan. He is more of a Frodo, a Sam or an Aragorn — characters who resemble Christ in different ways. And just as The Lord of the Rings has it share of Christ figures, so does the Harry Potter books; Lily, James, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, etc., etc. It is also worth noting that a Christ figure isn’t the same as a Christ allegory, and that a Christ figure is often more of a Christian. John Granger points out that he has, since 2002, said that “Harry is a Christian Everyman, from his name to his status as seeker, which in no way diminishes the edifying and symbolic meaning of his serial near deaths and faux resurrections, not to mention his sacrificial death and victory in Deathly Hallows.”

The reference to The Youngest Brother’s Tale is a good one, and I believe he is correct in saying that Voldemort is shadowed in the eldest brother, Dumbledore in the middle brother, and Harry in the youngest. But that doesn’t rule out Harry as a Christ figure (understood typologically.) Rather, it complements it. And this is in fact a “rule” in typology, that the type should not be to close to the original.

Let me end with a quote from Alan Jacobs article “Harry Potter’s Magic” from January 2000 (First Things):

The fundamental moral framework of the Harry Potter books… is a familiar one to all of us: it is the problem of technology. (As Jacques Ellul wrote, “Magic may even be the origin of techniques.”) Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is in the business of teaching people how to harness and employ certain powers-that they are powers unrecognized by science is really beside the point-but cannot insure that people will use those powers wisely, responsibly, and for the common good. It is a choice, as the thinkers of the Renaissance would have put it, between magia and goetia: “high magic” (like the wisdom possessed by the magi in Christian legend) and “dark magic.”

Hogwarts was founded by four wizards, one of whom, Salazar Slytherin, at least dabbled and perhaps reveled in the Dark Arts, that is, the use of his powers for questionable if not downright evil purposes, and for centuries many of the young wizards who reside in Slytherin House have exhibited the same tendency. The educational quandary for Albus Dumbledore, then-though it is never described so overtly-is how to train students not just in the “technology” of magic but also in the moral discernment necessary to avoid the continual reproduction of the few great Dark Lords like Voldemort and their multitudinous followers. The problem is exacerbated by the presence of faculty members who are not wholly unsympathetic with Voldemort’s aims.

Harry is stunned [in Chamber of Secrets] because he realizes for the first time that his confusion has been wrongheaded from the start: he has been asking the question “Who am I at heart?” when he needed to be asking the question “What must I do in order to become what I should be?” His character is not a fixed preexistent thing, but something that he has the responsibility for making: that’s why the Greeks called it character, “that which is engraved.” It’s also what the Germans mean when they speak of Bildung, and the Harry Potter books are of course a multivolume Bildungsroman-a story of “education,” that is to say, of character formation.

Michael O’Brien still rants on. I will not comment much, but after reading the essay, I started to think about why O’Brien would write this garbage (let’s use proper words.) And the only alternatives I see is these; (i) He has not read the books at all, which makes him dishonest; (ii) He has not read the books properly; (iii) He is stupid; or (iv) He has read them properly, but is just plain dishonest about it. Take your pick (or feel free to mix and match.)

The first thing that struck me when reading this article, and which Travis Prinzi also found amusing, is that LifeSite calles O’Brien “North America’s foremost Potter critic.” Nice one. I cannot imagine that the people behind this siste have read the books (or even read this particular article) because O’Brien have no clue whatsoever about these books.

I would like to remind O’Brien of a particlular verse; Deuteronomy 5:20: “And you shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.”

This essay reminds me of a saying that goes something like this: Better to be quiet and let people think you are an idiot, than to open your mouth and confirm it. Michael O’Brien should keep that in mind.

In brief, it is the idea that the novels are something of a circle or loop in which books 1 and 7, 2 and 6, and 3 and 5 are each a paired set and book 4 the “turning point” with elements of the three sets.

According to a friend of mine, there is in many writings, both old and new, a Chiastic structure with three main parts; an anabasis (“ascent,” which here would be books one through three) a turning point (which here would be book four), and a katabasis (“descent,” which here would be books five through seven.) Book four was for long my favorite, before book seven came. One of the reasons was that in book four, everything became darker and more serious. It was indeed a turning point, and everything after that became more serious. With that in mind, let us take a look at these sets (1&7, 2&6, 3&5.)

Book one & seven

There are a lot of similarities (and this also includes) between books 1 and 7, such as Hagrid driving Harry on Sirius’s motor bike, Harry coming to the Dursleys in book one, leaving them in book seven, and so on. But the main difference lies in the seriousness of the books. Like Neville. His courage in book one, which earned Gryffindor the House Cup, beating Slytherin, are paralleled in book seven, but this time it is serious, it is war and it is a matter of life and death. This time he uses the Sword of Gryffindor and gives Voldemort, the heir of Slytherin, the last blow, destroying the last Horcrux, Nagini.

Book two & six

The main theme in books two and six is clearly the Horcruxes. In book two, we do not regard the diary to be very important, although that changes later on. But the seriousness doesn’t become apparent before we enter into chapter 23 of book six, entitled, “Horcruxes.” Here wee see how serious the diary — and its destruction — really was. And this is also clearly mirrored in book four, where Voldemort talks about how he made himself “immortal.”

Book three & five

I believe one of the main theme of books three and five are depression and “the Dark Night of the Soul,” a theme “first” described by St. John of the Cross. The Wikipedia entry for the term Dark Night of the Soul informs us that the expression “is used as a metaphor to describe the experience of loneliness and desolation that can occur during spiritual growth.” And it adds that the poem of St. John of the Cross “tell of his mystic development and the stages he went through on his quest for holiness.” It continues:

The “dark night” could generally be described as a letting go of our ego’s hold on the psyche, making room for change that can bring about a complete transformation of a person’s way of defining his/her self and their relationship to God. The interim period can be frightening, hence the perceived “darkness”. In the Christian tradition, during the “dark night” one who has developed a strong prayer life and consistent devotion to God suddenly finds traditional prayer extremely difficult and unrewarding for an extended period of time. The individual may feel as though God has suddenly abandoned them, or that their prayer life has collapsed.

We see that this begins in book three, with the introduction of Dementors and Sirius Black’s break out from Azkaban. The Dementors are foul, but they are not really serious before the end. And Sirius is not the way we believe he is. But after book four, when everything becomes more serious, things change. In book five, the Dementors are in fact dangerous, being sent by Umbride. She is not a Death Eater (right then, anyway) but she is clearly delusional. And the mass break out from Azkaban, including Bellatrix Black LeStrange, is really serious.

So, my point is that what happens in the firs three books are mirrored in some way in the kast three, after going through a turning point in book four.

We cannot be united with God unless we freely choose to love him. But we cannot love God if we sin gravely against him, against our neighbor or against ourselves: “He who does not love remains in death. Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him.”[612] Our Lord warns us that we shall be separated from him if we fail to meet the serious needs of the poor and the little ones who are his brethren.[613] To die in mortal sin without repenting and accepting God’s merciful love means remaining separated from him for ever by our own free choice. This state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed is called “hell.” (Cathecism of the Catholic Church[1])

After reading the last Harry Potter book, I have decided to write some thoughts on Hell. I do this mainly because (i) these books are great, they have a deep Christian foundation, and (ii) they are popular, giving me a good starting point for what I want to tell.

As I tried to show with the quotation from the Cathecism of the Catholic Church, Hell is to be separated from God, separated from Good, “for ever by our own free choice.” But I also believe that God is present to the damned. This is partly because He is omnipresent, and one cannot flee from Him. Let me elaborate.

One of the main themes in the Harry Potter books, is that evil (or the evil one) cannot stand that which is good, but is tormented by it. When, in the last chapter of Philosopher’s Stone, Harry confronts professor Quirrell when the latter tries to kill him, after the mirror of Erised had seen the Heart’s desire of both,[2] Harry discovers that Quirrell cannot touch Harry without being tormented and burned. Harry uses this as a weapon, destroying the professor and almost destroying himself. Dumbledore explains why this happened in their conversation in the hospital wing:

Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign … to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.[3]

We later find out that Voldemort has ripped his soul, himself, apart, through the so-called “Horcrux-magic.” The etymology of the word is clearly latin and I believe John Granger’s thoughts on the matter is correct. He writes:

The word Horcrux is an interesting combination of Latin and French derivations. Hor-crux from the Latin would be “frightening or horrible” (horreo) and “cross” (crux); rather than finding the way to immortality in the lifesaving sacrifice of Christ, the Horcrux accomplishes the task through murder.[4]

Odd Sverre Hove, the chief editor of norwegian Christian newspaper Dagen, and a sworn Harry Potter fan (he has read the book 12-15 times), explains what Rowling is trying to show us in an interview with another Christian newspaper:

To live as a whole human being, is a good Christian ambition. [Rowing] indirectly getts out a warning by showing that the one who splits up his soul, becomes himself a tool for evil.[5]

For a analysis of the Horcrux-magic itself, read this article.

Dumbledore elaborates on this in Half-Blood Prince, where he explains the main difference between Harry and Voldemort

‘You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!’ said Dumbledore loudly. ‘The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort’s! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your heart’s desire, and it showed you only the way to thwart Lord Voldemort, and not immortality or riches. (…) You have flitted into Lord Voldemort’s mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you without enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry. I do not think he understands why, Harry, but he was in such a hurry to mutilate his own soul, he never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole.’[6]

And this is built upon in Deathly Hallows, in the after-life/waiting place scene after Harry’s self-sacrifice. Harry is at King’s Cross station, and he sees a little, repulsive child:

[Harry] recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath…. ‘You cannot help.’ [said Dumbledore] (…)

‘… But before you try to kill me, I’d advise you to think about what you’ve done … think,and try for some remorse, Riddle.’ (…) ‘It’s your last chance,’ said Harry, ‘it’s all you’ve got left … I’ve seen what you’ll become otherwise … be a man … try … try for some remorse…’[7]

I see this “child,” as an image of what Hell is all about. It is about self-inflicted damnation, a state of soul which suffers when exposed to God, to Love, truth and Light. The Bible tells us that those in hell will “be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of His power.” (2. Thess. 1:9, NKJV, emphasis added.) Most translations add the word “away” (“away from the presence…”), but that is not there in the Greek text. We see also in Rev. 14:10 (ESV) that the damned “will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb.” And in Psalm 68:2 (ESV) we read that “as wax melts before fire, so the wicked shall perish before God!” This doesn’t mean that those in Heaven has some sadistic fulfillment by watching the tormented, but that everybody will one day have to “face the facts.” Christ said that “the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:21, NKJV) And I believe this is tru for Hell also. It is our Heart’s condition that is important.

Andrzej Fiderkiewicz has some interesting thoughts on this in a comment over at Sword of Gryffindor:

From Eastern Orthodox perspective it is not so surprising that Harry and Voldemort (or part of his torn soul) are sharing “place” of afterlife. Many Church Fathers taught that being in eternal presence of God (and that’s what afterlife really is or will be) is a torment to unrepented sinner and bliss for those pure of heart. The same presence is felt differently because of different state of one’s soul.

Those who are damned are, in their hearts, “separated from him for ever by [their] own free choice.” And this ia a “definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed.” (Cathecism of the Catholic Church).

Dumbledore explains to Harry that he, as opposed to Voldemort, is pure of Heart. And Christ said that; “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” (Matt. 5:8, ESV) This does not mean that we will physically see him (or not), but I believe that we “see” God in the same way that we “see” our beloved ones.

Let me close with some thoughts on professor Quirrell from John Granger (from an Eastern Orthodox viewpoint):

Professor Quirrell is possessed by the evil one. He stands before the judging Mirror, looking at the quality of the desires reflected from his heart. It sees what possesses him: a selfish and self-centered love apart from God. He is unworthy of the Stone/Christ and the ensuing Elixir of Life, so these are kept from him. When he touches someone blanketed by the sacrificial love of a savior (here, of course, Harry’s mother) and worthy of having Christ in him, the love of God therein burns Quirrell. His judgment reflects the judgment of hell that rejecters of hell will experience. (…)

Let me close here with a story. When I first read this book aloud to my children, my then eleven-year-old daughter Hannah (who had read the book with my permission already) was in the room. I asked her why she thought Quirrell couldn’t hold Harry. She explained matter-of-factly that Harry was protected by his mother’s love and that love burns people with hard hearts “just like heaven and hell being the same place.” I was amazed that she’d made the connection on her own. I guess the world will always underestimate the wisdom and courage of its eleven-year-olds.[8]

Notes & references:

1. Cathecism of the Catholic Church, #1033. The footnotes:

• 612: 1 Jn 3:14-15.
• 613: Cf. Mt 25:31-46.

2. When Harry first finds the mirror of Erised, he reads; “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.” Turn this backwards and shuffle some of the letters, and you get: “I show not your face but your hearts desire.”

3. Rowling, J.K., Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone Audiobook read by Stephen Fry. Unabridged Adult Ed edition (BBC Audiobooks, 2001)

4. Granger, John, Looking for God in Harry Potter, updated second edition (Tyndale/Saltriver, 2006), pp. 187

5. Rogstad, Britt, “Potter — en skole i etikk” (Vårt Land, November 18th 2005) (June 19th 2007) Translated from norwegian. The norwegian text goes like this: “Å leve som et helt menneske, er en god kristen ambisjon. [Rowing] får indirekte fram en advarsel ved å vise at den som deler opp sin sjel, selv blir et redskap for ondskapen.”

6. Rowling, J.K., Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Adult edition (London: Bloomsbury, 2005), s. 477-478

7. Rowling, J.K., Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Adult edition (London: Bloomsbury, 2007), s. 566.594

8. Granger, John, Looking for God in Harry Potter, p. 136

‘You think you know more magic than I do?’ he said. ‘Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?’[1]

As I have pointed out before[2], I main point of the Harry Potter books is that magical skill is not sufficient. In a analysis of the trio, John Granger points out that they could represent each of the three faculties of soul, according to the Platonic scheme.[3] He points out that

[p]art of Hermione’s brilliance is her determined dependence on her friends; she understands that her jewel intelligence is glorious in its right setting and almost inhuman on its own (remember Hermione at the beginning of Sorcerer’s Stone?).[4]

She understands what Tom does not. She understands that it matetrs not what your skills are, but what you are, what choices you make, to give a nod to Dumbledore. In “The Abolition of Man,” the last chapter/lecture in the book by the same name, C.S. Lewis points out that the interest in magic increased in the Renaissance, rather than decreasing. And he, as many others, saw the connection between technology and magic. He writes:

There was very little magic in the Middle Ages: the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are the high noon of magic. The serious magical endeavour and the serious scientific endeavour are twins: one was sickly and died, the other strong and throve. But they were twins. They were born of the same impulse. I allow that some (certainly not all) of the early scientists were actuated by a pure love of knowledge. But if we consider the temper of that age as a whole we can discern the impulse of which I speak.

There is something which unites magic and applied science while separating both from the wisdom of earlier ages. For the wise men of old the cardinal problem had been how to conform the soul to reality, and the solution had been knowledge, self-discipline, and virtue. For magic and applied science alike the problem is how to subdue reality to the wishes of men: the solution is a technique.[5]

The magic in Harry Potter is indeed scientific or technological. It is, as Robert Kvalvaag points out, “a craft that witches and wizards must conduct in a logical and reasonable way.” And he adds that it is never about “performing rituals with spirits and demons, but about using some sort of natural resource.”[6]

And this is precisely the point of these books. Let me explain a bit further, by utilizing Aristotle’s theory of knowledge. Dr. Peter Kreeft writes:

Aristotle rated technique (technical knowledge, technë, know-how) as third in the hierarchy of values, after (1) knowledge of the truth for its own sake, and (2) practical knowledge, or knowledge for living, for acting. The modern world has simply turned this hierarchy exactly upside down, as it has turned man upside down.[7]

This was also taught, maybe not will evil intent, by Francis Bacon, whose chant “Knowlwdge is power” is chillingly mirrored in Tom’s “Magic is power.” Tom’s problem is that he turns things upside down. s

Just as the serpent in the Genesis story, Tom is “crafty”[8]; he rates technique (magic) over virtue (knowlede, bravery, love.) As I pointed out in this post, the major difference between Harry and Tom is that,

[i]n Harry (and Dumbledore), we see a wizard who conforms his soul to reality, not relying on magical technique, but on knowledge, self-discipline, and virtue. In [Tom] we see a wizard who tries to subdue reality to his own wishes, denying the spiritual realm and splitting up his soul to “be in control.” He is a exaggerated version of Francis Bacon’s scientist, shouting “knowledge for power” while trying to conquer nature.

And this is, I believe something we all need to be reminded of. It is not skill or ability that matters, but wisdom and love. As the great Solomon wrote: “Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding.” (Proverbs 3:13, ESV)

1. Rowling, J.K., Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Adult Hardcover edition (London: Bloomsbury, 2007), p. 592

2. See here and here.

3. I myself am more of a Thomist. According to Plato, the three faculties are Head, Chest and Belly; Reason, Will/Heart and passions. Thomists divide the third faculty into three; (i) the ability to sense and perceive; (ii) the instincts; and (iii) the urges. The first two we share with animals, the third we (and animals) share with plants and the like. But I do not think that this matters. After all, Rowling is not a slave to this, they are *real* characters, not just parts.

4. Granger, John, Looking for God in Harry Potter Updated second edition (SaltRiver/Tyndale, 2006), p. 98

5. Lewis, C.S., The Abolition of Man (Lewis, 1944,1947/HaperSanFransisco, 2001), p. 76-77

6. Spilde, Ingrid, “Potters plass i virkeligheten” (Forskning.no, June 11th 2004) Translated from Norwegian (July 24th 2007)

7. Kreeft, Peter, Ph.D., C.S. Lewis for the Third Millennium (Ignatius, 1993), p. 22

8. Genesis 3:1, ESV. Som transaltions use the word “cunning.” I personally like “crafty” best, because it shows that the serpent tries to turn things upside down.