From Rags to Snitches

The Resurrection of J. K. Rowling

She looked ordinary enough to be a mere Muggle, but as the woman moved respectfully but steadily closer to me in the church activities hall, I realized I was wrong. "I came to your lecture tonight to ask you one question. I could ask it now or at the end," she said softly. Her smile was so warm I could feel it. She clutched a purse knitted by hand, her moccasins dated from the 1980s, and she didn't seem to waste any time in her day on brushing her hair. She looked a lot like my image of Molly Weasley.

The church hall was festive for the lecture that night, titled "Harry Potter in Lent." Church volunteers had set up four long tables for their potluck dinner, each with a Hogwarts House banner above it, and the tables were piled high with British-themed desserts. An eagle picture hung on the podium set up for me to give my lecture on theological themes in Harry Potter. I had brought dozens of handmade Chocolate Frogs with Wizard Cards I'd made with faces from the church community directory. At the entrance to the hall, I placed my Hedwig puppet in an antique birdcage I had found online. The birdcage sat on top of a trunk with Hogwarts stickers on it, under a large sign in the hallway for King's Cross Station and a smaller sign for Platform 9M. The church hall was lit by strings of electric candles hanging from the ceiling.

I usually bring decorations to any public lecture on Christian themes in Harry Potter. But this particular church had its own passionate Harry Potter fandom, a group including all ages from young children to retired seniors. They had worked for hours before the lecture to turn their activities hall into the Great Hall, and many had brought their own Harry Potter memorabilia to add to the decorations. As is often the case, individuals who were previously inactive or mostly unseen members of the church had volunteered to help out with the Harry Potter lecture. Nearly every volunteer was wearing something that looked like old Hogwarts-themed Halloween costumes: House ties or scarves, Quidditch robes, and more than one pair of eyeglasses held together with tape. But these Potter fan volunteers had to be shown where the bathrooms, lights, or outlets could be found in the church. Harry Potter — themed events at church have a way of not only bringing new people into the church but also reinviting and reconnecting inactive members, often with their (young or adult) children in tow.

But back to the woman. She had approached me in a way that was both shy and bold. Her eyes were twinkling. I told her I would be happy to try to answer her question before the event started. The lecture was being recorded, and unknown to me, the recording had already started. So I have her words in digital form, though I can't imagine forgetting them. She took a deep breath and then said these words: "I don't go to this church — or any church, really — but my neighbor does. I saw the flyer about tonight from her church bulletin that was hanging on her refrigerator." Her crouching posture and nervous rocking back and forth told me she was somewhat apologetic about not being a churchgoer, but not much. She continued:

I am a total Harry Potter fan. I'm not a church fan. But I came here tonight hoping that you can explain to me why you think these books have changed my life. I know they did. I'm just not sure how, because I've read a lot of books in my life and not been so moved and changed by them. I've been a reader since I was four, and I'm seventy-one years old — my birthday was just last month. But very few things have ever moved me the way Harry Potter has moved me. I'll tell you this: these stories are too real to not be real. I don't believe in magic, but I'm here tonight to try to figure out what is different about these stories and why I'm different because I read them. So, that's my question before you even start talking: why does this story change people?

There is a holiness about her words that has stayed with me as I speak to groups small and large, whether they be youth groups, adult retreats, clergy conferences, teacher conferences, secular parenting groups, book clubs, leadership seminars, or Harry Potter Bible studies. No matter where I go, I remember this woman's conviction and her question: "These stories are too real to not be real" and "why does this story change people?"

The woman's words resonate strongly with me because for years of teaching Christianity, I have often said the words "the resurrection is too real to not be real." So I recognized what the woman was trying to say about ideas that seem too good to be true and yet also so powerful in our lives that they can't be fiction. Keep in mind Harry's question to Dumble-dore about the very nature of magic, life, and death in their final intimate exchange at King's Cross Station.

"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?

Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.

"Of course it's happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

Often we are drawn to accept certain ideas or narratives into our definition of reality, not as propositions or arguments, but rather as explanations for our lived experiences. Of all the ideas, claims, and parables in the Bible that are hard to understand or even to accept, the resurrection is an event and an experience that makes sense to me and my lived experience. I see its presence and power in my daily life — in seasons, in relationships, in joy, and in suffering. I have simply never experienced a death of any kind that did not unfold in some form of resurrection — of new life, new identity, or new freedom. Resurrection is not the erasing of pain or grief, but rather a birth through pain and grief, pointing and powering toward new life. Resurrection is too real not to be real. And the specific account of the resurrection of Jesus strikes me as sharing the shape of my own experiences of death and resurrection in the human condition. The Gospels never introduced to me the reality of life after death. Rather, the life, death, and...