Eternity in our hearts

Wow.

Sometimes there are feelings one can't capture. But maybe I'll be stupid enough to try.

However, in order to make any sense at all, I must make an enormous confession. It could shock, maim, or stupefy.

Are you ready?

Okay.

I've now read the whole Harry Potter series.

Yes, yes! I know! At this point you are staggering under the blow, offended or stumbled. Or you're rolling your eyes and muttering that it's about time I caught up with my generation.

Enough drama.

After observing one or two of my siblings trying the series for the first time, I discussed it with my parents and warily commenced reading, on guard for anything that might try hoodwinking me into thinking something abominable. I am not here to debate all of the positive and negative aspects of the series. Suffice it to say that Harry Potter has morals akin to Jack Bauer, and as I would rather my ten-year-old didn't immerse himself in Jack Bauer's ends-justify-the-means mentality, neither would I let him read Harry Potter and get duped into thinking he's always a great guy.

However, as I devoured the last book, my breathing short, I felt something stir within me. Something I couldn't name. And then I was done, closing the back cover with a mixture of satisfaction and disappointment. I laid the book down in the wee hours of the morning, my mind racing. And soon after that, something like despair set in. Despair that the series that I've long enjoyed over the summer is over (now what do I look forward to?:). Despair that the story came so close to hitting the mark, and yet barely fell short. And despair that if I ever wanted to write a story like that which actually did hit the mark, I could never make it that good.

What made the book fall short? Simply this: it didn't express a love for the truth. It expressed a great deal of other powerful things, but that one important thing was lacking. Oh yes, there was truth sprinkled in all right, but why does Harry Potter have to be such a liar? Why did he have to resort (however rarely) to using one or two of the Dark side's tools/curses?

And yet there is so much truth that the story displays: an epic battle of good versus evil, the power of faithful friends who are willing to die for you even when they don't know what's going on, and the power of love--more importantly, the power of sacrificial love. The final movie (which I just saw in Imax 3D = awesome) doesn't even emphasize this last part, but the book does. Something stirs within me when I think about all of it.

And then I remember the power that art has over the spirit. And I remember that God has put eternity in our hearts. Whatever it is, God has placed a yearning within us that knows deep inside that in the end there is going to be a Battle. The Enemy has yet to succeed in making cowardice a positive attribute, and so stories of courage thrill our hearts still. We long to see good triumph over evil, and we easily experience fear, tragedy, or exhilaration in the description of a battle because we know we are meant to be a part of the Battle.

Love has been twisted and idolized in our society, but in stories like this we know what real love is. As Someone so eloquently put it, "Greater love hath no man than this, than he who lays down his life for his friends." I don't want to spoil the story of Harry Potter for someone who hasn't read it yet, but this happens. In a climax so poignant, a life is willingly given up, making no defense, and people are magically shielded as a result. Sound familiar? If I hadn't heard that the author has questions about God, I would have thought it was quite purposeful, except the point isn't emphasized strongly. It almost hits the bull's eye right on, but the (dishonest) hero finishes the villain off and the Gospel connotations are left hanging and unnoticed.

Despite this discouraging fact, I am still amazed. Amazed that this redemptive analogy, in the midst of the gripping heat of a battle, is actually present. I guess it shouldn't surprise me in our Western Judeo-Christian society, but one has to admit that over the past thirty years our Western world has largely become pagan. And here, in the midst of what some Christians would deem a pagan, wicked story . . . is the Gospel staring you right in the face. Jesus Christ gave His life, making no effort to defend Himself. He not only laid His life down for His friends, but also for His enemies. And because of that precious blood that He spilled for others, we who believe are magically shielded from the Enemy's worst curses.

Mind you, the analogy between Harry Potter and Jesus Christ very quickly breaks down. Very quickly. I've already alluded to Harry's tendency to lie and not behave ethically. However, the story as a whole still resonates a chord within me, and it astounds me that just as God can take a pagan ritual in the jungles of New Guinea and insert truth about Himself that prepares the hearers for the Real Truth (see Don Richardson and the Perspectives on the World Christian Movement course on "redemptive analogies"), so can He insert truth about Himself in the pagan story of Harry Potter, even if the author had absolutely no intention of doing so. We long for Truth, and although not as palate-cleansing as Narnia or Lord of the Rings, we find an imperfect yet intact measure of it in a fanatically popular story like Harry Potter.

The story resonates with us for a reason. God has put eternity into our hearts.

What an amazing God we serve!

Again, wow.