As do many bloggers, I like to acknowledge when one of the op/ed columnists I routinely slam writes something that is almost entirely correct. In that spirit, I’ve had nothing but contempt for Michael Gerson since he became a regular writer for the Post, but he really hits the nail on the head with his take on “Dumbledore is gay”.
As to Dumbledore, it would have been disturbing if Rowling had used her final book to argue for some baldly political agenda — if the Hogwarts headmaster and professor Snape had married, for example, in a touching civil ceremony. Whatever your view of homosexual rights, this would have been an abuse of parental trust, the exploitation of an unfair advantage. But this is not what happened. Dumbledore’s sexual identity was an assumption Rowling brought to her writing, not explicit in the text itself.
For that matter, Gerson does a pretty good job this time around in pursuing his ongoing dream of having “compassionate conservative” be more than just a punchline.
But the really subversive element of the Harry Potter books is the answer they offer to death. Voldemort believes that death must be mastered and “eaten” — resisted through Dark Arts that always involve exploitation and violence. Harry Potter, in contrast, is protected from death as an infant by the voluntary, courageous sacrifice of his mother’s life. And Harry is called upon to repeat that sacrifice. The portion of “The Deathly Hallows” in which young Harry realizes that he is “marked for slaughter” and accepts the necessity of his own death for the sake of love is moving — and that love becomes a kind of magic that is stronger than death itself. For every reader, this is an affirmation of friendship, loyalty and courage. For my children, it is also the symbol of a greater sacrifice.
These, of course, are central themes of religion, particularly Christian religion. And the question naturally arises: How can a book series about tolerance also be a book series about religion? This represents a misunderstanding of both tolerance and faith. For many, tolerance does not result from the absence of moral convictions but from a positive religious teaching about human dignity. Many believe — not in spite of their faith but because of it — that half-bloods, werewolves and others should be treated with kindness and fairness. Above all, believers are called to love, even at the highest cost.
Well, yeah. In fact, Rowling’s take on those basic themes is one of the things that I really enjoyed about the last book. She played with ideas that we see over and over again in Western literature (and have their strongest grounding in Christian tradition) in such a way that they were interesting to believers and non-believers alike. Gerson seems to understand this in a way a lot of professed Christians don’t.
Anyway, it’s just too bad none of Gerson’s buddies in the actual government seem to care about the type of Christianity he defends here. If they did, I imagine I would be much more comfortable with their constant use of religion in determining policy.
Share This
—andrew