What Hath Hogwarts To Do With Jerusalem?

“So,” a friend asked me a few weeks ago, “what do you think about demonic possession?”

The question caught me off guard, but I should’ve been more prepared. It was at least the third time in the past year that a friend in the church community has wanted to talk about the possibility that someone she knows could be interacting with spirits.

How should Christians respond to stories of the supernatural, whether we come across them in fantasy books, in movies and music, among our friends, or in the Bible? Marian Jacob’s new book On Magic and Miracles: A Theological Guide to Discerning Fictional Magic provides analytical guidance for Christians weighing all these considerations.

Though the book is framed as a discussion of magical elements in fiction, more than half the argument deals with ways Christians can approach the supernatural in a broader sense. We have to find the path between materialistic skepticism and credulity. As Jacobs notes, “It would be easier for our discussion of fictional magic if we could just say, ‘Magic isn’t real; therefore, fantasy magic isn’t dangerous.’ Yet that wouldn’t be intellectually honest” (72). Thus, the majority of the book is an extended discussion of “the theology of supernaturalism” in the Bible and in contemporary spiritual experiences (5).

Real Magic?

Magic is notoriously difficult to define, but Jacobs attempts to “narrow the scope” (22). She focuses on “mediated supernatural actions,” in other words, events outside the normal course of nature that are instigated or worked through a person, animal, or object, rather than what she interprets as “direct acts of God or other spirits” (22).

She further divides these supernatural actions into two categories. The first are accomplished in submission to God “through the power of the Holy Spirit, for the sake of God’s glory, the spread of the gospel, and our eternal joy” (22). These are miracles. The second subvert God’s authority over nature and occur “through the power of fallen spirits, for the sake of power, secret knowledge, and/or self-aggrandizement” (23). This is the magic Jacobs cautions against.

Magic is notoriously difficult to define.

On Magic and Miracles presents a series of specific questions to help Christians approach the supernatural with discernment. Jacobs uses these questions to examine tales of spirits and magic, both in the Bible and in the mystical practices of other belief systems. She looks at biblical stories, like the medium at En-dor and the Egyptian plagues, and asks, “What is the source of the magic?” and “What is the goal of the magic user?” (29).

Jacobs’s balance between skepticism and credulity may not be dead center for every reader, but her confidence in Scripture’s authority is evident as she applies her questions to both the Old and New Testaments. Additionally, Jacobs recognizes the dangers of being pulled into contemporary errors, like New Age beliefs, which she describes as sometimes being “outright demonic” (83).

These sorts of concerns aren’t just theoretical. I had a recent conversation at church with someone who said she had received a message from a “seer” who told her about her future and encouraged her to join a church group. I’m grateful she was in church, but fortune telling is a dangerous way to connect with the supernatural.

Fantasy Magic

One of Jacobs’s foundational premises is that stories matter. C. S. Lewis argued that fiction can speak to hearts in ways that shape whole beings. His fantasy stories were intended to stir the hearts of materialists who might object to prosaic teaching on Christ’s love. J.R.R. Tolkien wrote that the magical endings of fantasy stories in particular can bring us “a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium,” imaging God’s miraculous intervention for our own salvation.

Of course, the inverse of the principle also proves the point. Stories can convince the imagination in unhealthy, even dangerous, ways as well. For instance, the incidents my friend described to me about the possibility of a demonic presence in a house sounded a lot like some scenes from Steven Spielberg’s 1982 movie Poltergeist.

Stories can convince the imagination in unhealthy ways.

If the stakes are high in storytelling, as I believe they are, then how should Christians practically approach the extremely broad topic of magic in fiction? Some stories with witches in them can be extremely edifying for Christian readers, and, at the same time, it’d certainly be wise for Christians to avoid some stories with priests in them.

Jacobs doesn’t leave these ideas as abstractions, but applies them to several popular works of fiction. As Jacobs evaluates specific examples, like the Harry Potter series, she identifies and explores many of the common challenges to J. K. Rowling’s works. She concludes by raising some of her own concerns about the books, but also notes that many “will find this series well worth the effort” (277). Her goal is to help Christians better evaluate the books they read, not to make binding declarations.

Occupied Territory

Flannery O’Connor once wrote, “My subject in fiction is the action of grace in territory largely held by the devil.” Similarly, On Magic and Miracles reminds Christians to approach stories of magic, whether those stories illuminate God’s truth or come from territory held by the Devil, with discernment. We can also approach them without fear, knowing God is the lord of the supernatural.

Western Christians are now more likely to encounter stories about the supernatural, both on the library shelves and on the phone with friends. Sometimes people accept the spiritual world by turning to Christ, through God’s grace. Others invent or find different explanations. On Magic and Miracles provides much-needed biblical and logical thinking on issues that, by their very nature, fall easily into abstract and emotional arguments.