It’s impossible for me to have grown up and not have heard of Harry Potter. For a majority of my life, it has simply been everywhere. From the books, to the movies, to the theme park, the magical world of J.K. Rowling’s creation spread across the world. I am about to admit just how much that world has drawn me in. Be prepared for a little fandom.
For instance, here’s me in Hogsmeade with an owl on my head.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, the beginning book of the series, was first read to me by my sixth grade English teacher. My brother and I purchased the second book together. Our names and address are still penciled into the copy sitting on my bookshelf. Soon, I was placing pre-orders for the books to arrive on our family doorstep the day they were released. I was hooked. Before the book series was even completed, Warner Brothers began cranking out movie versions. I saw every one with my father and brother, my movie companions for many years. Through seven books and eight movies, I followed the story of Harry Potter. Watching the credits on the final movie a few years ago was like watching the end of my childhood.
You may be saying to yourself, “Yeah, but Miranda, a very large number of people your age can say exactly the same thing. Why are you writing a blog about it now?” Well, the truth is a bit embarrassing. You see, while the fantastical adventures of Harry Potter had captured my imagination, I was never a hardcore fan. There was no way I would have shown up at a book release dressed up in witch’s robes. Toward the end, I never even made the effort to reread all the books before a new one arrived in my eager hands. Most times, I sped through each book, spending nights pretending to sleep by turning off the reading lamp each time I heard my parents stir. I cried and laughed, and then I walked away. I don’t own a necklace with the sign of the Deathly Hallows. I have never played a game of quidditch. I didn’t parade around trying to convert every unbeliever to the genius of Rowling. I just simply liked the story.
Me and my friend Celia who I’m about to introduce.
Enter my friend Celia. We met at Perkins School of Theology on what I believe was the first day of class. We bumped into each other in the bathroom and then when she entered the classroom and saw me sitting there she walked up and said, “You have curly hair, we should be friends.” We soon discovered we had more in common than just hair texture and became fast friends. When she graduated two years ago, we took a trip to Florida to celebrate and spent one day at what we dubbed “Harry Potter World.” This theme park officially titled “The Wizarding World of Harry Potter,” is located in Universal Studios. We loved it! I spent my savings on a wand, lemon drops, and more than one butterbeer that day. Despite a little hiccup with motion sickness, it was a great day. It had been years since I picked up the books. She doesn’t know this, but I fell in love with the story of Harry Potter all over again while walking around Hogsmeade and sitting in the Three Broomsticks.
Me and my wand. Please don’t ask me why Bellatrix is my favorite character, it’s complicated, but I have her wand.
The next summer, I decided it was finally time I reread all the books. After finishing each one, I popped the movie in the DVD player for an extra dose. It took me less than two weeks to read through the books and watch all the movies. I was working in a library and had lots of downtime in which to read. This adventure was different than what I had experienced in the past. I wasn’t speeding through, trying to find out what was going to happen. Rather, I enjoyed all the clues that had meant nothing to me in the first reading. I also understood the story at a deeper level than I ever had before. Being older tends to do that. When it was all said and done, I craved more and spent hours scouring Pinterest for quirky stories and fan fiction. After a while, I moved on, retaining the importance of this last reading. I had found something even better than ever before in a piece of my childhood that had somehow grown up with me. A few weeks ago, I decided to revisit the books again. It has been nearly a year and, having no money to spend, I knew the books would keep me entertained. However, even more than before, I found my Theology of Ministry in between the coffee stained pages of my books.
Which is much different then say, The Monster Book of Monsters…
You may have picked up by now that I am a Seminary student, well, at least for another couple weeks. I’ve spent the last four years of my life study God, the Church, and everything in between. Part of my education has been developing the ability to recognize a theology as well as develop my own. I have written about this theology vaguely throughout my blogs. Quite explicitly, my theology is love. I believe everything was created out of love, love holds all things together, and love will be the center of a recreation at the end of time. I even wrote my entire theology, well everything I understood at the time, a few years ago completely from the perspective of love. I was recently asked, as a part of my final credits for my degree, to write my theology of ministry. This is a bit different than just my theology because it focuses on how my theology plays a role as a person in ministry. I wrote several pages about what it means to love other people. This is, I believe, the main role of every Christian and, in fact, of every human.
There’s really no good picture of love, so here’s a Chocolate Frog box. Although, I do love chocolate…
Being well trained by my fantastic professors, I now see theology everywhere. What surprised me was not that I found theology in Rowling’s writings upon my most recent readings, but that I found my theology. Love is also the center of Harry’s adventures. In a world of impossible creatures, powerful enchantments, and unspeakable evil, the most powerful magic of all is love. Harry’s mentor Professor Dumbledore says again and again that the reason Harry has an edge on his nemesis Lord Voldemort is because Harry has the ability to love. This love is the very reason Voldemort continually underestimates the limits of the boy. In fact, a self-sacrifice made for love of another person provides that person with a certain level of protection. In the first few books, Voldemort can not even touch Harry without mortal injury because Harry’s mother died trying to protect him from Voldemort. This level of magic is more powerful than an unblockable death curse. Rowling’s plot throughout the seven books becomes more and more complicated, and yet, love is still the center. While the movies relay some of this, it comes across quite clearly in the writings of Rowling.
Hogwarts is pretty awesome!
So, here I am, a Seminary student, appreciating the nuisances of a theology developed by an author in a series of children’s books. These books have provided me, over the years, with entertainment, something with which to relate, a glimpse into my imagination, and now a glorious understanding of how love works. Perhaps the next time I write a theology of ministry, I should cite Rowling. I will also now consider a blog on the intriguing young adult series Delirium by Lauren Oliver which takes place in a future where love is considered a disease. Until then, God bless and enjoy a good book!
How is it that I’ve spent half my life with a book in my hands, and this is the only picture I have of me reading anything at all, and I’m not sure a map really counts. (Btw, I’m the one with the hat.)
