On Christian Magic
A reader posed an earnest question to me, and one of great interest to a man of my profession of faith in my profession as a fantasy author. The question is one wiser heads than mine have pondered, so my answer was to direct him thither, towards Tom Simon, the greatest living essayist of our day, and Stephen Graydanus, a reviewer who critiques films from a Christian perspective.
Nothing said below is likely to surprise a longtime reader of this space, but the thoughts, I hope, are worth repeating.
Modern fantasy stories often refer to “white magic” or “good witches” as opposed to “black magic” or “evil witches”, and often portray the magic done by wizards or wise men as benevolent and lawful.
Given that an unbroken tradition of Biblical teaching since the Bronze Age unambiguously condemns the practice of magic as unlawful and damnable, the question my reader asked was this:
Is there any justification for a Christian to write, read, or watch stories portraying or referring to magic in a positive sense? This includes not only secular fiction such as “The Wizard of Oz” and “Disney” but also the works of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.”
Yes, there is not only a justification, but a compelling one. However, the danger is also real, and we must be careful when answering the question, for it a serious one.
Let us attempt to be judicious in answering.
Magic is in all stories, epics, fairy tales of all the traditions of man, East and West.
The vast majority of readers do not believe magic is literally real, and will suffer no temptation to take up the practice, any more than dressing like a witch or goblin for Halloween tempts anyone to become a Satanist.
For this vast majority, magic is a metaphor for all those things in life which are miraculous, filled with wonder, unexpected, eerie and numinous.
The use of such magic in a story as a metaphorical or literary material to represent or suggest wonder or terror is no different from the use of other material, such as portrayals of war and rape and suicide, and other such stuff it is unlawful to do, but not unlawful to depict in a tale. As ever, such depiction must be judicious, used so as not to cause scandal nor appeal to prurient interests.
We need not concern ourselves with such stalwart and even-tempered readers. No story, no matter what the theme or setting, will lure them even one iota toward a lust for the occult.
Nonetheless, there are those in the audience who do indeed think magic is real, or hope it is, and who may be drawn to the occult if magic in a story is portrayed in a positive light, that is, a false and flattering light.
These people are our concern.
The folk lured to magic have two motives (1) an awareness that the secular and materialistic worldview is flat and false, so there must be a hidden and supernatural world, larger than this world, somewhere out of reach; (2) a lust for power, for power over nature and over other men, for foreknowledge of the future, for the power to curse and bless and alter fate, for the power to cast love charms or gain fame or find lost treasures, but most of all a lust to know secret things denied other men.
The first motive is honest and must be encouraged: the lure of fairyland in that case will lead an honest heart to heaven. He will seek out elfs and find angels.
Call this “the magic of fairytale.”
The second motive is the very violet apple of Eden, for it is the false promise of being a mortal god, and must be discouraged and condemned, because the lure of fairyland there is an invitation to hell. He seek out elfs and finds devils.
Call this “the magic of the occult.”
Hence, a scrupulous Christian would do nothing to glamorize the occult.
The question before us is whether there is any justification whatsoever for any positive portrayal of magic. If the answer were no, then no magic whatsoever could appear in any story.
This would avoid glamorizing the occult, but it would also shut out fairyland. It would shut out the Christian author from writing anything in the vein of not only CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien, as well as Shakespeare’s MACBETH and Goethe’s FAUST, but also Milton, Dante, Ariosto and any and all the classical writers where benevolent magic appears.
This would, in fact, eliminate most or all the stories of King Arthur and Charlemagne, ballets and operas like NUTCRACKER, SWAN LAKE, and Wagner’s Ring Cycle; the Hindu epic MAHABHARATA; the ILIAD and the ODYSSEY of Homer, the AENEID of Virgil, the PHARSALIA of Lucan; and the Disney cartoon SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARVES not to mention the Sorcerer’s Apprentice sequence from PHANTASIA.
Sabrina the Teenaged Witch puts Archie Comics on the chopping block, as Wendy the Witch does for Casper the Friendly Ghost.
To not read Tolkien, Milton and Shakespeare and such would tragic, a type of spiritual self-mutilation. We do owe a duty to our culture to see it passed along, and that requires reading and writing works of art and popular entertainment that reflect and glorify the Christian worldview.
This is what we call scrupulosity — a chronic tendency to see sin where there is none and to be weighed down by an overly distrustful approach to life.
If the Christian writer adopts a rule which rules out the most celebrated Christian writers of this and every generation, the rule is too strict.
Nonetheless, the danger of portraying the occult as glamorous is real. I myself know a man who was fascinated by the occult when he was young, and his love of Tolkien’s Middle-Earth may have been a factor in his eventual decision to become a witch. He was of the occult. Fantasy stories were a danger to him.
It is a crime against heaven to allure a youth with such a moral weakness by exposing him to fairy-stories. He breathed the air of Middle Earth, but conceived a craving for the One Ring, the occult amulet granting power over the eyes and minds of men.
On the other hand, I also know a woman whose Christian faith is grounded solidly on her childhood love of the Narnia stories of CS Lewis. She was of fairyland. Fantasy stories were a boon and blessing to her.
It would be a crime against heaven to have deprived her childhood of Narnia, and scandal against her faith. Taking away Aslan from this girl would have weakened the love of Christ in the women she became.
Prayer and discernment is required. We must separate fairyland magic from occultism, and encourage the one and discourage the other.
The Christian movie critic Steven D. Greydanus, in his essay Harry Potter vs. Gandalf, (http://www.decentfilms.com/articles/magic), identifies seven ‘hedges’ that serve to divide the magic of fairytale fantasy from the magic of curses and occult powers.
Here is a sum of Greydanus’ list. He applauds CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien for adhering to these hedges, and criticizes JK Rowling for not doing so.
- Magic is portrayed as a matter for fairyland, or some other wholly imaginary realm, unconnected with the real world. The magic goes away once the protagonist returns to Earth, or wakes up. Example: THE PHOENIX AND THE CARPET by E Nesbit. Magic retreats from the mortal world likewise at the end of Lord of the Rings by Tolkien, and the Prydain series of Lloyd Alexander.
- Magic is portrayed as is not supernatural in the wholly imaginary realm but treated as an openly hence non-occult body of knowledge, must as rocket science is here. Example: MASTER OF FIVE MAGICS by Lyndon Hardy. The Dungeons and Dragons games of Gary Gygax and others often portray magic merely as an art like chemistry or poison-brewing.
- Magic is used only by supporting characters, not the protagonists. Example: Merlin the Magician in the LE MORTE d’ARTHUR by Malory.
- Magic is shown to have a corrupting influence on anyone dabbling in it, and to exact a terrible price on the magician. Example: Tom Baker’s character Koura in the 1973 fantasy adventure film THE GOLDEN VOYAGE OF SINBAD; or Elric of Melnibone from Michael Moorcock; or Gorice of Witchland from THE WORM OUROBOROS by E.R. Edison; but most especially Dr Facilier from Disney’s PRINCESS AND THE FROG.
- Magical powers do not come from occult studies, but occur naturally only to characters who are not in fact human beings. Example: Zatanna and Zatara from DC comics, who are members of the secret race Homo Magus, who evolved as a secret parallel race to man. Likewise, the Leprechaun-king Brian from Disney’s DARBY O’GILL AND THE LITTLE PEOPLE. Gandalf of Middle Earth is not a human, but an angelic being; and likewise Ramandu from YOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER is a star in human shape.
- Magic is the safe and lawful occupation of characters who embody a certain wizard archetype — white-haired old men with beards and robes and staffs, etc. Example: Cadellin Silverbrow from THE WEIRDSTONE OF BRISINGAMEN; or Dallben from BOOK OF THREE; or Prospero from THE TEMPEST.
- The author avoids describing any process by which magician gains his powers, or giving any hint of anything for the over-curious reader to imitate.
In addition to these, Mr. Greydanus mentions an eighth hedge, which JK Rowling definitely does use. That is to make her magic obviously fantastical, so farcical and just plain silly nobody could be allured to try and make it work in reality.
Now, I think Mr. Greydanus’ list has its good points, but some seem doubtful, or even counterproductive.
I do not see how, if a reader were likely to be tempted to study the occult, merely having the character be old and grey would deter the reader’s lust, or by saying that wizards are members of a special and secret race. If anything, being special and secret would increase the lure.
In my own works, witches and sorcerers are portrayed either as nonhuman beings, doing things human cannot do which are unlawful for humans, or as blasphemers meddling with dangerous forces likely to destroy them. (Indeed, I sometimes go out of my way to make what at first seems like an extraterrestrial but natural psychic force or an energy being, turn out to be a devil from hell, bent on the damnation of mankind.)
I think Mr. Graydanus’ list or any list like it, needs one additional word of caution and clarification:
A storybook wizard has both form and substance.
Form is surface features, such as whether the magic is real or imaginary, open or occult, used by main characters or side characters, corruptive, nonhuman, graybearded, a finished product, or silly.
Graydanus concentrates on describing forms.
Substance is spirit. Here we need only one question, not seven or eight: Does the story glamorize what makes occultism alluring to occultists? Namely, does the story glamorize those things offering to slake the lusts mentioned above, such as powerlust for control over nature and over fate, foreknowledge, but most of all a lust to know secrets others do not?
Graydanus’ list cannot be applied mechanically. A story which fit each of his even hedges, but which still glamorized the idea of trafficking with devils and learning the future from reading cards or stars should be deterred. Likewise, a story that violated all Graydanus’ hedges, but which showed ‘good magic’ only to be the miracles of God or of the nature God created, would repel the occultist lust not inflame it.
Substance is how the story element is handled, in this case, the element of magic.
If the “good magic” is something that has the mood and theme of a saintly miracle, it does not matter whether a man called a wizard with a pointy hat and magic wand is performing it. He is being used as a metaphor for the supernatural joy and strangeness god-fearing men see in the mysterious works of creation. The wizard in the story has the outward shape of an alchemist or wizard, but the inward essence of a saint or an angel.
If the wizard in a fantasy story heals the sick or breaks a curse, he is not an occultist but a doctor, merely one who uses the properties of nature not well known to his fellow men.
The Catholic Church has always made a distinction between practices that are diabolical hence forbidden as opposed to hidden but natural, hence not necessarily forbidden. See, for example https://www.newadvent.org/summa/3096.htm
Here, the Angelic Doctor says
In things done for the purpose of producing some bodily effect we must consider whether they seem able to produce that effect naturally: for if so it will not be unlawful to do so, since it is lawful to employ natural causes in order to produce their proper effects. But, if they seem unable to produce those effects naturally, it follows that they are employed for the purpose of producing those effects, not as causes but only as signs, so that they come under the head of “compact by tokens entered into with the demons”
Hence, I suggest the Christian author or poet follow the same rule as the Christian physician or alchemist. If it is chemistry, it is lawful, but if it is diabolism, it is not.
In the Middle Ages, the alchemist did both chemistry and diabolism, and sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart. Likewise, the poet or novelist writing a story with white wizards, good witches, magical props or elf-haunted woodlands, is portraying both fairytale magic and occult magic.
Fairytale magic encourages a thirst for wonder which leads a properly-formed soul to develop a thirst for the wonders of heaven, for it lifts the eyes of the mortal man above the material limits of the world. We cannot quench fairytales merely out of fear of occultism.
But neither may we rashly ignore the danger of occultism: the allure is real, and the result is ungodly, gross and absurd.
The poet can use magic as a prop or metaphor, or use a wizard as a character, or fairyland as a setting, to represent in make believe things that otherwise cannot be portrayed.
Our question then is what is the intention? And what is the effect? If the intention is to glamorize real occultism, the poet should find different props, characters and settings. If the effect is to glamorize the occult, even unintentionally, again, the poet should shy away.
So my rule is much the same as the seven hedges of Graydanus, but I add a principle to tie all his seven points together into one rule: judge the story by the theme.
Does it encourage love and wonder as do miracles or does in encourage lust for the occult, and power over nature? One story cannot to both.
Let me use examples of the principle of judging by theme:
In CINDERELLA the character of the Fairy Godmother clearly uses magic in a good way which would not be lawful for a human being. While fairies are doubtful beings for mortals to traffic with, she is specifically a godmother, which is a Catholic institution and role – a role she carries out in the story, since she sees to the wellbeing of Cinderella whose mother is dead.
The magic the Godmother does is treated like a miracle, that is, a one-time act of grace, set about with strict rules not to be overstepped. The magic is also clearly frivolous: turning mice into horses and making a coach out of a pumpkin is meant to appeal to our sense of the ridiculous.
Most importantly, the moral of the fairytale is the same as the Canticle of Mary: the meek shall be exalted and the mighty shall be cast down.
Contrast this with the television show CHARMED, where the three witches, who arguably are no more human than a fairy godmother, nonetheless use their magic to help people, but it is occultist magic, taken from a Book of Shadows, with witchy rituals, incantations, and the like. One of the girls has the prime occult power all astrologers and palm readers crave, which is foreknowledge of the future.
The setting and mood are meant to be occult and modern, and the young women meant to be admirable and alluring — note that the actresses were selected for their sex appeal, and are nothing like the traditional old crone of fairytale.
More to the point, the young witches use magic to solve their problems, they are the main characters, and magic is portrayed as readily available and no more dangerous than riding a motorcycle.
The witches in CHARMED even have a special order of angelic being assigned to them, which muggles do not have, called Ligthbringers or something of the sort, who materialize in the form of handsome young hunks.
Theories, props, names and forms from real neopaganism are used and emphasized. The theme of the show is that magic rocks.
This show is not like a similar show from a generation earlier, BEWITCHED, where the theme was of a witch who wanted to leave the witch world, enter the mortal world, marry a mortal, and be an ordinary housewife. Magic in that case was treated not as an occult power, but only as a freakish quirk the heroine wanted to be rid of. It was in fact a paean to suburban conformity.
In sum, I would both write and read stories like CINDERELLA or BEWITCHED because the treatment does not make occultist magic seem alluring.
Whereas I would not and could not write a story like CHARMED, unless the ending of the story was one where the witches discovered the truly dark and damnable nature of their craft, even when used for allegedly good purposes, and forswear it, breaking wand and drowning books as Prospero does in Shakespeare’s TEMPEST; or else the ending followed Disney’s PRINCESS AND THE FROG, or Marlowe’s FAUST, or Mozart’s DON GIOVANNI, and we see the witches, obstinate and blasphemous to the last, corrupting into repeated and ever-darker crimes, finally dragged into infernal darkness screaming.
Allow me to end with a quote from the essayist Tom Simon, who wrote a column exactly on this topic. If one reads Mr. Simon, one may get a clearer and more useful idea on how to solve the conundrum than I here have offered :
The Taste for Magic (https://bondwine.com/2008/04/29/the-taste-for-magic/)
Magic, both in the real world (whether it works or not) and in fantasy, is our way to dip the human will in myth. By turning it loose to inflict change on the world for good or ill, we see more clearly how strange, how potent, how nearly supernatural is this power we have of making choices. Good and evil, peril and anguish and joy, when touched by magic, become as real and concrete as bread and apples.
In science we do experiments to isolate one factor among many: so we learn the effects of gravity, electricity, or heredity. Where we cannot do experiments with real bodies, we settle for thought-experiments, like Einstein thinking about travelling at the speed of light, or Adam Smith thinking about perfectly free trade. As long as we do not mistake our abstractions for reality, we can learn much about the forces that they represent.
Magic, the kind of magic we find in fantasy, is a thought-experiment, a valid way of exploring the sciences of psychology and ethics. It is worth doing; it is even worth doing badly; but it deserves to be done carefully, thoughtfully, and well.
That, at least, is why I choose to do it. And now it behooves me to get back to work and do some magic.
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
