That Dangerous Harry Potter

People have asked me for years about my opinion regarding Mr. Potter, the wizard of Hogwarts. For over 10 years my response has been "I have too many classics to read right now to read Harry Potter." C. S. Lewis encouraged his readers to develop a diet of classics that was peppered with lighter and more trendy reads. Following his advice, and heeding to my own personal challenge to read what my kids were reading in school left me with little additional reading time. But now my kids are reading Harry Potter. My time to read it has come. Going to the library 12 years after the first book was published, I find it's still a favored read among adults and children alike. That tidbit alone would make it seem that it's well on its way to being a classic. So what do I think of Potter so far? I'm just finished the first and in the first half of the second. I know next to nothing about J.K. Rowling other than that she is a woman with chutzpah and imagination. I've heard that she was modeling herself after C.S. Lewis and J.R. Tolkien. If nothing other than first initials and a two-syllable British last name, those are good men to model. She does seem to be keeping with their example of casting fantastical light on how people find their identity, their bearings, their true North. And, like Tolkien and Lewis before her, the sage advice that she would offer is better received from wizened characters like Gandalf, Aslan and Dumbledore.

I'm trying to understand what some Christians have been so upset by for so long about Potter. I've heard that her books blur the distinction of evil and good. I haven't seen evidence of this. In fact, in the first book, the antagonist, whom Harry defeats, says, "There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it..." Lewis' antagonists in both Narnia and his space trilogy say this very same thing. And, like Lewis, Rowling has these evil men defeated by the gentle, faithful, yet undaunted protagonist.

Some say that they portray witchcraft in a good light when it is really a form of Satanic worship. Really? But Gandalf's use of magic is okay? Bilbo's invisibility ring is okay but Harry's cloak is not? I know that witches, as seen in Shakespeare's Macbeth have often been portrayed as communing with evil, thus deriving their power. But is that what Rowling is doing? Is she trying to say, "See, we've been wrong all along. Witches are good. Follow all of them." Is she encouraging her readers to abandon God in their quest for power? Is she even giving them a reason to head towards worshipping Evil? Or is she staging the struggles for identity and purpose in a world where our inward struggles against pride, anger, resentment, insecurity and power can be more clearly seen? Instead of wooing her readers into a dark world of magic so that she can cast an evil spell on them and render them powerless, is she instead drawing her readers into the idea that we live in a parallel universe the way that Lewis did with the Pevensie children who were Kings and Queens in Narnia (as Christians are considered royalty in Heaven) but children in London? At the school of Hogwarts, we learn that Muggles are those who are nonmagical. Some Muggles refuse to see the magic all around them, while others can see and even believe, but aren't magical. Most Muggles live in a world where what they see is what get. Wizards and, dare I say it, witches, on the other hand, believe that they have been given a special calling, a gift of magic that is to be used for a good purpose only. They believe that they are to use their magical powers carefully and they must be trained well if they are to be truly useful. Isn't this the message of the New Testament? Aren't we given a royal heritage as our identity? Haven't we been given magical power in the gifts of the Spirit and in prayer? Aren't we spiritual beings living in a world of stubborn Muggles? Perhaps this isn't what Rowling is saying, but hats off to Rowling for portraying the study of Latin, the dusting off of ancient books and the study of logic as worthy pursuits. Like Lewis, I think Rowling is forcing her characters and her readers to recognize that the struggles at Hogwarts are the same struggles in the world of Muggles, and the world that we call life. The book of Hebrews refers to this idea of parallel worlds as types and shadows. The Apostle Paul, defying all fear of mixing religion with magic stood in the center of Athens and proclaimed Jesus Christ as the unknown God of their mythology. He wasn't saying that the evil acts of the gods and goddesses of Ancient Greece were now okay, he wasn't leading his fellow Greeks to worship these gods, he wasn't blurring the distinctions of truth. He was saying, "That parallel world of magic does exist. Your ancient stories are just types and shadows of a greater truth. Jesus Christ was that truth. Follow Him." I don't know whether J.K. Rowling holds a Christian worldview of mythology, magic and morality. I still haven't figured that out about Shakespeare, but that doesn't keep me from reading his works and, most importantly, talking about them with my children.

I'll leave you with my favorite passage from The Sorcerer's Stone, a conversation between Dumbledore and Harry after Harry defeated the evil Voldemort in what I'm told is his first of many battles. "Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign...to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever." Perhaps these books really are dangerous. They might lead us to look into what it means to be loved by someone who laid His own life down for us that we might have some protection forever.

Terminal

A friend of mine once asked me to pray for a loved one who had terminal cancer. How striking that word "terminal." We've written term papers, perhaps purchased term insurance and when we've traveled, we've departed from the terminal at the airport. My prayer for that friend's loved one was not merely that they would survive the cancer, but that they would understand that life, for all of us, is a journey that ends. Too often, we don't think about our destination until we've already arrived.

Traveling two weeks ago put me in touch once again with the various techniques of travel among my fellow Americans. In my walk back from the restroom, I saw passengers watching movies on their laptops, reading, sleeping, video-gaming, and listening to what I refer to as I.P.I.D.'s, Irritating Personal Isolation Devices(IPods). In 5 plane trips, I noticed only one traveler journaling in an old fashioned leather bound book, once a common habit among travelers. When we traveled to Indonesia in 1992 with Laura, who was not yet two years old, the cabin looked and sounded distinclty different. In those very long 32 hours I think two movies were shown(but they did serve food). Boredom took on a whole new meaning. We distracted Laura by handing her playing cards one by one until she had all 52 in her wall-mounted bassinet. Then,for excitement,she handed them back to us one at a time. And we repeated this insanity several times. At that point, any diversion was welcomed. Now traveling is easy. Distractions abound. A few movies, a few missed episodes of your favorite show downloaded on the laptop, and presto, you're there! The cabins of planes today are remarkably quiet. The passengers are amused and distracted. Flight attendants couldn't be happier.

Distractions are not limited to travel. One could easily spend one's entire day surfing the Internet, watching television, checking out Facebook, and playing video games. Neil Postman, in his book, Amusine Ourselves to Death, points out the dangers of a culture that is fed and bred on daily doses of entertainment. He challenges his readers with the idea that if everything is easy, we will never accomplish hard things and we may be easily led astray by foolish politics and practices. He argues that amusement as a lifestyle goal or regular habit will cripple our families, our schools, our economy, our culture.

I would add one thing to Mr Postman's argument. I'm not just concerned that our culture is becoming less educated and more vulnerable politically and economically. I'm concerned that our culture is becoming more vulnerable spiritually as well. I believe that we were made to have a relationship with the ONE who made us. He set us on the course of this journey we call life to know Him and be known by Him. Every journey has an end. Every life is terminal. C.S.Lewis said that Heaven is a destination where all the inhabitatnts say to God, "THY will be done." On the other hand, he says, Hell is a destination for those to whom God says "thy will be done." Our life. Our destination. Our choice. But do we ever really think about this? Do we ever really contemplate our destination? Why should we when we have every distraction from our terminal condition possible? Plug in the I.P.I.D. and watch another movie. "Could I have another drink please with the can this time? And those little pretzels, too?"

Coming Home

As I write this, I am sitting in the BWI airport in Linthicum, the town which used to be my home. For the first time in my life, I am departing from this airport to go home. Surreal. When we moved to Hawai'i in 2009, we drove to California and flew to Honolulu. This summer's visit to the mainland was due to the Association of Classical and Christian Schools' Conference in Durham, North Carolina. A timely blessing to be challenged and charged and changed as we prepare for the next school year. After the conference, a friend and I drove back to Maryland for a whirlwind visitation of friends and family. I stayed at my mother-in-law's home in my old apartment. The coziness and homey-ness of this apartment was a primary focus for 22 years of my life. I knew every square inch of it, dust and all. Over the years we placed hooks, shelves and little touches everywhere and even made a mosaic in the bathroom sink to fix a crack in the porcelain. My home was my artistic outlet. But as I climbed the stairs, slid the door open and entered the hallway, I knew that this apartment was no longer my home. I looked into the boys' room, where Legos once lined the floor and pictures of Teddy Roosevelt once hung on the wall, but it wasn't home. I looked in the robin's-egg-colored girls' room where Lydia once played dollhouse while Laura once made jewelry, but is wasn't home. And the living room which I once constantly rearranged to create a space that invited conversation and contemplation was also not our home. My family was in Kaneohe; that's our home. That little rented single-wall construction house is our home. That island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, where the temperature is always just about perfect, where the water and mountains compete for shock and awe is our home. That small school, that small church , that small community is where we feel called.

It was a precious gift to see friends and family for the few days that I was here. Without a moment of awkwardness, we picked up where we left off. We were only been separated by land and sea, and with that our of the way, we forged ahead, catching up, reconnecting. Hours of said reconnecting combined with late nights and early mornings have left me physically exhausted but emotionally charged for the challenges we face in Hawai'i. The challenges are not taken lightly. Establishing trust with hurting families can be discouraging. However, watching families embrace the concept of shepherding their children into adulthood is invigorating. Attempting to develop a curriculum that is respectful to the Hawaiian culture and other Eastern cultures, without turning our backs on the West is a balancing act. However, seeing the progress we've made in such little time is testimony that God is at work. Transitioning from one method of education to a new one is harder than starting from scratch. However, seeing God build the vision for classical and Christian education throughout the school is faith-building. Perhaps most daunting, the economic times in our community, like the rest of America, force us all to get on our knees. Without His blessing, our task is impossible. But with God, all things are possible. Possible, but not easy. Possible, but not always understood. Possible, but not without sacrifice. For me, all of these challenges make the ministry we're involved in the perfect place to be.

Our adjustment to this perfect place was accompanied by our fair share of culture shock in moving to the most remote location in the world. In October, when Autumn arrived in Maryland and Summer stayed in Hawai'i, I was homesick. I fell asleep walking the streets of Linthicum in my head. In December, when the blizzards hit Maryland and sunshine hit Hawai'i, I was homesick. When church was over on Sundays, and everyone went their separate ways, I longed for our regular potluck in the basement of our Pasadena church. So, I expected to feel a twinge of regret when I returned to my home in Maryland. And, I expected to be sad to leave Maryland to return to Hawai'i. I was surprised to discover the peace I had about living in Hawai'i. I'm excited to go back to sandals, shorts and "shave ice." I'm excited to watch my children grow up knowing that we made a choice to be here in ministry. I'm excited to be a tiny part of His work in the East. I'm excited to work alongside my husband, who led this crazy expedition. My plane is about to depart so I must close. I'm excited to be on my way home.

Brothers Keepers

You may think me a busy body, a pushy mother or a special educator who can't give it a rest but I have given my two sons assignments this year. The first assignment was Jonathan's. I noticed that each Sunday a kind and even sheepish father followed his son up to the front of the church for the children's message. I wondered why. I noticed that his son was a little lost in the crowd and was rather unpredictable in his response to the other children, the candles, the instruments, the speakers and the microphone. So, Dad (all six feet of him) faithfully sat with him on the floor to help him attend. I leaned over to Jonathan one Sunday and said "Do you see that little boy. He is having a hard time knowing what to do and his Dad is trying to teach him. You know, it would be a lot easier for him if he had a friend to show him, someone who is slightly older and gentle. And you both have red hair. I think it should be you." "Me?" said Jon,"Oh no. I'm too old to go up there. Everyone will wonder what I'm doing." "How do you think his dad feels?" said the persistant educator. "I'd really like you to serve this family by being a friend to that little boy. His name is Josh."

So, we asked the family if they would like Jonathan to sit with their son as a peer tutor, so to speak. They were happy to have the help. Their son was diagnosed with autistic tendencies so the struggle in church is only part of the total struggle for this family. Week after week, Jon would meet Josh up front, sit with him on the floor, and try to help him notice the important things to do. It was a challenge at first. In fact, one week, Jon was too embarassed to go so I asked Daniel to go (nice mom, right?). But, two weeks ago was the last time that Jon would be Josh's helper. Josh's dad is in the Marines. Every few years, they move. This is true for a number of families in our church. I marvel at their patience and their sacrifice for their country. But imagine the stress on young Joshua. For people with autism, life is stressful and unpredictable regardless of frequent relocations. I'd like to think that maybe Jon helped Joshua get a little more comfortable with church. I'd like to think that our family blessed Joshua's. But it doesn't really matter...Joshua blessed Jonathan. He taught him how to step outside of himself in love by being his brother's keeper.

Next assignment: Daniel. I leaned over to him one Sunday, too. "Daniel, do you see Josh sitting there by himself (a 14-year old boy with Down's Syndrome)? Do you notice that he's only interacting with babies and with their parents? I'll bet he doesn't feel safe with others and doesn't know how to risk interacting with them. Do you see how he's oblivious to the worship service, just staying quiet and out of trouble? He's not really worshipping at all. He's not singing with us, or standing with us. I'll bet if he had a friend who cared about him, someone his exact age, it would do wonders for him. And you are the same age, I think it should be you." "No. No. Not happening. He won't listen to me. " Conversation dropped, for the moment.

We talked again in the van. And again in the house. "Okay, okay. I'll do it. But what should I do?" "Well," said the special educator, "I know that he can copy and I know that he can read a little. Why don't you teach him how to take notes during the sermon like you do?" "Okay," said the obedient son. So, I talked to the other Josh's mom. She was thrilled to have some help, too. Off we went to Ross' (Bargain priced finds on the island) to find two matching journals. Leather bound. Gold edges. Good deal.

Next Sunday morning Josh's mom told him that she wanted him to sit with Daniel. "No, gestured Josh. " Daniel showed Josh the journals. Josh shook his head "no" and went to sit near the twin babies and the nice parents who talked with him every week. We shuffled and maneuvered so that Daniel could be near Josh and start writing in the journal. I leaned over and told Josh to copy what Daniel was writing in his own book using that irresistable educator voice. And every Sunday since, Daniel and Josh sit together while Daniel writes notes in his book for Josh to copy in his. Josh has written the Doxology and the Gloria Patri and is now able to point to each word as it is sung while he stands with the rest of the congregation. No longer just staying quiet and out of trouble, he's part of the Body of Christ : the part that teaches others to be their brother's keepers.


I am thankful that both of my boys accepted their assignments. By walking a mile with these boys, they learned a great deal about themselves and about loving others. I am thankful too, for the Body of Christ here, who lovingly accepted both Joshuas. Many, many families of children with disabilities struggle to find a church that will accept them. I know of one family who was asked to leave the church because their children were so disruptive. Like Cain, that church was not their brother's keepers.


"The eye cannot say to the hand, "I don't need you!" And the head cannot say to the feet, "I don't need you!" On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. " 1 Corinthians 12:22-27

Garland of Grace

"Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart." Proverbs 3:3

Today I was graced with a precious treasure: a pikake lei by a student's mom. Hundreds of intensely fragrant pikake buds were woven together into a beautiful garland. She kissed me and hugged me, as is the custom, and then adorned me with the sweetest aroma I have ever known. She warned me that everywhere I went today people would want to come near me to smell the lei. And she was right. Several of my Hawaii friends told me how blessed I was to get this particular lei; it is mostly used as a bride's lei. I was honored beyond words.

The custom of leis is such a precious picture of being a Christian to me. God loves us and draws us to Himself, give us the gift of salvation through His Son, and places a garland of grace upon us. His work in us is so real, so complete, that the difference of His presence is noticed immediately. The fragrant aroma of Christ in our lives draws others near to Him. I am told that if I am gentle and faithful in caring for this lei, it can last up to 3 or 4 days. The sacrifice of time and effort for this lei is tremendous, yet it pales in comparison to the sacrifice of Christ. The sweet fragrance of this lei will last a few days but the joy of salvation will last forever.

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him."

2 Cor. 2:14

Wealth Management

What would you do if someone offered to make you rich? Yesterday one of my friends at the YMCA told me that while she was meditating, I came into her "awareness." She told me she wanted to have dinner with me to share with me what her company was helping people do; get wealthy. Not just a little wealthy mind you, extremely wealthy so that they wouldn't need to work again. I told her that I would pray about it and let her know. I said this not necessarily because I needed to pray about it, but because I needed to give her an answer and myself some time to explain. I'm planning to write her this note.

Dear Ina,
Thank you for your dinner invitation. I, too, practice regular meditation. In my meditation I use God's Word, the Bible, to listen to Him. Here is what I read recently about wealth: "give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread." I believe that my calling in this life is to be a teacher and to minister to families and women. God has done amazing things in my life and has provided for me in amazing ways. I consider myself abundantly wealthy already. I believe that He will continue to provide when I am focusing on what I need to do for Him for He says, "A faithful man will be richly blessed." Because of this, if I lift my awareness from ministry and turn it to wealth, I will become poor for He says, "Do not wear yourself out to get rich; have the wisdom to show restraint." So, thank you for your kind offer to help me get wealthy. I have meditated on the idea and found that I am rich beyond measure already. "

History Day at Trinity. We acted out the Peloponessian War with a tug-of war between Athens and Sparta. All grades K-6 participated in all the activities together.

Dave and the kids arranged for some families to join us this weekend to celebrate my birthday. Pasta, friends and cheesecake. Yum! My friend Anne is sitting next to me, we share the same birthday!

A Year Ago

My mother is a great pianist. Sonatas, fugues and concertos were the background music of my life as student after student came to our house for their piano lessons. Though I tried many times, I was never able to learn to play. Some of this, surely had to do with my failure to practice, but I just don't think I got the gift. My sister did. With only a few lessons, she plays beautifully by ear just about anything she wants to. My great aunt Cecelia was a concert pianist and my grandmother allowed my mother to skip dish washing to practice piano so she could be like her aunt. It's in the family. But, not in me. I would sit at the piano, looking at the music in front of me and wait for the sounds to come out of my fingertips. Though I love music, music history and even music theory, I can't play an instrument. Something I've always regretted.

One of the reasons that Dave wanted us to relocate was that he felt that we had come to the point where we could just keep going steady, see our kids grow up, retire and look back on a very comfortable life having never really done anything exciting, dangerous and daring for the Kingdom of God. When he told me that we should move to Hawaii this week, a year ago, I thought he was crazy and I told him so. I knew that coming here would mean tremendous sacrifices, unpredictable economics, and a radical change for our children. After thinking it over, I knew Dave was right. My usefulness in Maryland seemed minimal at best. To be honest, I was silently frustrated that God was closing the doors for me. Having once been very much a part of what was being done at our school, circumstances prevented that now. Why was He doing this? I had once been useful, but now what was I doing and what should I be doing now that Laura would be graduating?

My greatest desire in life has always been to teach and write. When I am teaching a crowd of children or adults, I am rarely nervous and I find that the words come easily. Often I think to myself "this is what I was made for." I think God delights in giving us gifts and seeing us use them. It brings me joy to do what I'm made to do. And I've realized that this gift is just as important as playing an instrument.

When I started here at Trinity, I was given a laptop with a clean documents folder. That folder is now full hundreds of documents that have been written to teach students, parents, and teachers. I haven't written on the blog lately because I've been so busy writing for the curriculum committee at school. We are in the process of piloting a science curriculum that is completely integrated with history and begins with what the children know. One of the teachers I work with asked me if I was stressed given that this was my first year of teaching and I was being tasked with a lot of writing responsibilities. I explained that, to me, this was fun, not stressful. And it is. When I'm writing I rarely take a break. Unlike the music that was forever stuck on the page, words flow from my hands quickly and easily. And I've realized too, that the years that I was frustrated because God had given me the task of homeschooling my daughter through her painful journey of RSD were some of the most critical training years for what I'm doing now.

Interestingly, writing is also in my family. My cousin is a novelist and another aunt was a newspaper reporter. My family has always loved word play and storytelling. So perhaps all the family gifts haven't been lost on me. Once again I see His hand in my life. Though I have often longed to be different from what I am, I have come to a place where I am comfortable with who I am...and what I do.