The Mirror of Erised scenes in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone have always captivated me. Not only for what they reveal about Harry, but for what they reveal about us.
With mirrors we can see ourselves visually. But the Mirror of Erised, which plays an integral role in the first book of the series, shows the person their deepest desire. For Ron Weasley, he saw himself as Quidditch Captain and holding the house cup. But for Harry, he saw himself reunited with his parents who were killed when he was an infant.
It’s not too surprising that an orphaned boy would wish for a fix to these absent relationships. In contrast Ron’s deepest desires seem so trivial. But they paint a picture of the wide spectrum of human experience, pain and want. This mirror reflects back an even rawer depiction of who we truly are.
When Dumbledore found that Harry had discovered the mirror and was spending much time staring into it, he said, “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”
Quite a fitting quote from a man who the reader later finds out also suffered significant losses within his own family.
But the scene that I find most compelling surrounding this mirror is the one towards the end of the book when Dumbledore explains how Harry, and not Voldemort, was able to retrieve the Sorcerer’s Stone from it.
“Only one who wanted to find the Stone — find it, but not use it — would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. But not Harry. Harry, who wanted to find the Stone to stop Voldemort from getting it — who wanted it, but not for himself — was able to get it out of the mirror.”
The Sorcerer’s Stone could provide the ability to prevent aging, via the Elixir of Life and could turn any metal to gold. The stone symbolized the human hunger for immortality and wealth. Setting aside the irrationality of how the magic works, the central premise of this story appears to be getting us to question the unchecked pursuit of wealth and power. The dangers of desiring or longing for control.
This same longing for control, the desire to master life through our own effort, shows up not only in fantasy stories but in the Bible as well.
This dynamic, while not nearly as explicit, seems to undergird much of the Gospels. Very often a stark contrast is drawn between the Pharisees and Jesus, and rightly so, for Jesus is often both directly and implicitly challenging them. Jesus levies his sharpest critiques toward the Pharisees more than any other demographic, even the Roman centurions. I think it’s for this reason that many Christians today, also tend to use the term Pharisee in a derogatory and accusatory manner.
But is it possible that by making the Pharisees out to be solely antagonists and so alien from ourselves, we rob these stories of their power? It would be like only seeing the elements of Harry in ourselves and not seeing how we also might have traces of Voldemort’s motives within ourselves, which is a scary proposition.
Similarly, the Pharisees might be the group that many Christians most closely resemble, and I don’t mean that in a condescending manner. I believe the Pharisees can serve as an excellent mirror to understanding much of ourselves.
The Pharisees lived in difficult circumstances. Under Roman occupation, the Jewish people were a shell of their former selves. It had been several centuries since the last prophet from the Old Testament, Malachi, had prophesied and it felt as though God had turned his face from them and was silent despite their suffering. They had already gone through the exile to Babylon, rebuilt the temple, but now they were hardly in control of their own destinies. It would be understandable if they felt God had forsaken them. Outwardly it certainly appeared that way.
Instead of giving up, they doubled down on trying to live in perfect obedience to God’s laws, seemingly in hope that their righteousness would lead to God’s favor. That favor, one could imagine, would look very different than the circumstances they found themselves within.
In much the same way, we can dwell on our own failings and think that is the cause of God’s seeming disfavor. But this type of thinking often spirals into treating God like a vending machine who will give us what we want if we simply put the figurative quarter in by acting rightly. That if we get our house in order, our circumstances would be guaranteed to improve.
Dumbledore warned that people dwell on these deepest desires and forget to live. In many ways, the Pharisees’ desire for better circumstances by influencing God’s hand via their “perfect” behavior, missed the point altogether.
Life, wealth, autonomy, and the realization of dreams in and of themselves are not bad things. They are good things but cannot be the ultimate thing.
As Jesus says in his Sermon on the Mount, “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” He is addressing our anxieties, worries, and stress about worldly things. Jesus too found himself living under Roman oppression, and was ultimately killed by it. And yet, he said to aim higher, seek God’s kingdom, not in a bartering way to obtain his gifts, but out of selflessness and then, and only then, can you truly live, often despite the outward appearance of life’s circumstances.
If you’re like me, I like to exhaust the limits of my abilities before relinquishing control. It’s hard for me to do that. And I often find myself trying to appease God to be deserving of his favor. But that’s more like the way of the Pharisees, and dare I say Voldemort, still trying to exert control albeit in a more covert way.
No amount of time spent in front of that mirror would have ever brought Harry’s parents back. The mirror can reflect our deepest longings, which are often a void left from our deepest wounds and scars. And we can spend much of our lives dwelling on those, to no avail, and missing the point of life in the process.
Jesus offered a different way. He said suffering and pain was inevitable. But he invited all of us into relationship with him and to have life abundantly. That abundance isn’t often found in money, extended lifetimes, or even necessarily the righting of past wrongs. I would say it’s not even primarily about living forever in heaven, as some Christians often reduce it to.
No, it’s something fuller. Something richer. At its core, that abundance is an abundance of relationships, something that is made starkly evident in the Harry Potter books, and I think is quite evident in the Gospels.
Perhaps real life begins when we step away from the mirror and our attempts to control how our deepest longings will manifest themselves and instead seek first relationship with God and with one another.
Upon Reflection 