I’m no Harry Potter expert, having read only a couple of the early books and seen a few of the films as they’ve taken my fancy over the years. Clearly though it has become a significant cultural phenomena and, especially in the early years, given rise to much debate within the church. To be honest that whole controversy left me cold. I sensed a depressingly familiar mix of excessive literalism and cultural denial in much of the negative Christian comment. That was particularly frustrating when, from the very opening chapter of the first book and the initial scene of the film series, this was clearly something that could be engaged with, and reflected upon, productively from a Christian perspective.
So, what to make of it now? I wanted to see the final film, and so crammed in a few of the earlier instalments to get me up to speed. Had Harry turned into a Satan worshipping lunatic, or, even an unsuspecting, benign advocate of witchcraft and dubious dabbling of all sorts? I suspected not.
What I found was the culmination of an epic fantasy in the greatest traditions of the genre. Full of excitement, wonder and thrills for sure but never lacking in character, heart and emotion either. Not only is it a ripping yarn, like all the best stories it has important things to say as well.
As I watched there were clearly a whole number of scenes and incidents that called to mind Biblical parallels or at least prompted me to ‘think Christianly’ about what I was watching:
- when Harry returned to rescue the stricken Draco Malfoy, or tend to the dying Snape, I was moved by the challenge to love our enemies.
- as Neville Longbottom summoned up his last dregs of courage to play a final crucial role, while still the mocking laughter of his peers rang in his ears, I cheered at the thought of the meek inheriting the earth.
- as Harry entered the forbidden forest I was, of course, inexorably drawn to Gethsemane, as he eschewed the trappings and instruments of power I was taken to the temptation wilderness and as he pondered perhaps the greatest decision of all at an ethereal ‘Kings Cross’ I reflected again on the significance of another King and another cross.
Slightly more abstractly, as I thought about the controversy around all of the spells and the sorcery, it came to mind that these things, for our heroes at least, were but the ordinary, relatively humble, means by which their greater goals might be achieved. Not for them the petty arguments about who had the biggest wand, the most magnificent pyrotechnics or the cleverest enchantments. A significant lesson perhaps for Christians who, I’ve heard it suggested, are not immune from engaging in a bit of boasting about supernatural, spiritual prowess, forgetting that the gifts of the Spirit are tools for a higher purpose too.
Perhaps most of all though I was caused to reflect again on the nature of evil and the wonder of the atonement. How the lust for power, and its associated characteristics of envy and greed, is a key root of evil at every level. How the sting of death is felt in that paradigm as the ultimate defeat of personal ambition. And so how any lasting remedy must cut to the very heart of that endemic human condition.
The atonement, demonstrated through this series, has some obvious particular parallels with the Christian account, after all it majors on salvation and resurrection enabled by sacrifice. The real story though is that this theme has permeated every episode, every book and film, each conversation and incident, the whole saga. Redemption here is not the result of a ‘quick fix’ or even a single final battle, it has been played out through a lengthy love story, gradually being revealed, nuanced and complex, yet ultimately victorious. ‘Salvation history’, that scholars like to talk about, has rarely been better depicted.
In this final instalment though, the culmination of all that has gone before, the atoning act was positively Johannine. In the Fourth Gospel the crucifixion of Jesus is described on several occasions as his being ‘lifted up’ (3:14, 8:28, 12:30-34). This act, for John both climactic and voluntary, is at once a victorious exaltation and an unmissable, ‘lightening-rod’ type of absorbtion of all the power of sin and death. There’s even a serpent handy to make the image complete. Carson
“Although the cross might seem like Satan’s triumph it is in fact his defeat. In one sense Satan was defeated by the outbreaking power of the Kingdom of God
It could be imagined, had John known of horcruxes, he may have reached for the metaphor himself.
Ultimately though, what makes for a good, epic story? The fantasy world of Hogwarts comes alive for us, just like Narnia and Middle-Earth before it, not merely because of the sense of wonder and enchantment, the strange and amazing sights, or even because of any, part-hidden, deeper message, but because it forms a backdrop for values to be displayed which we all warm to, and are thrilled by.
It’s the world-view behind these worlds that provide the lasting enchantment, and the most interesting legacy. A perspective understood by asking questions like; How is right/wrong good/bad determined and demonstrated? By what means do the good guys (and girls) ‘win’ – if they do? Where and what are the surprising (‘counter-cultural’) actions? How are these films suggesting I ought to behave in my, sometimes less than magical, world?
At the end, as throughout, Harry and his colleagues overcome through courage, loyalty, friendship, faith and, above all, love. In a consumer culture where all to often, in so many of the stories we see, hear and tell without controversy or complaint, the spoils go to the prettiest, the cleverest, the strongest or the most manipulative, I know which ones I’d prefer my children to hear.
