Angels, Sporks and the Sacred Thresholds of Life

“But Daddy, what if there are monsters?”

Our two oldest have been frequently asking this question. Almost always when encouraged to go on their own to another, usually unlit, room in the house to retrieve something of need.

It’s pretty fascinating how universal this fear of monsters is among kids. Certainly the result of a combination of learned behaviors and deeply embedded instincts. Instincts needed for our ancestors to survive in the wilderness. Much like a house cat’s reflex when it mistakes a cucumber for a snake out of the corner of its eye.

And it got me thinking about something in the Bible that I’ve struggled to understand and that also happens to be considered frightening at times… Angels.

Despite the sanitized depiction of them in renaissance artwork and Christian merchandise, they are described in an assortment of ways in the Bible, with some actually sounding fairly… well… frightening.

Yes, in Genesis Lot and Abraham are visited by angels that appeared just like humans. And the writer of Hebrews acknowledges Christians may unknowingly interact with them. But in other places we see them described as multi-winged creatures (Isaiah). Other descriptions are of some type of hybrid creature with the four faces of a human, eagle, lion and ox (Ezekiel). And others where it says they are covered in eyes (Revelation).

It reminds me of someone’s joke that they made a biblically accurate angel tree topper. This is nightmare fuel.

Throughout the Gospels, the accounts of people’s interactions with angels at both Jesus’ birth and his resurrection are consistently ones of fear and angels reassuring them to not be afraid.

It took me a while to realize how many passages describe angels far differently than the harmless porcelain cherubs that adorn many yards and curio cabinets. Once I did however, these passages started to make more sense.

And there may be no better time to explore this topic than the lead up to Easter, which features a story involving angels at the empty tomb.

WALL-E and the Spork

Roughly six years ago I wrote a post about WALL-E exemplifying a messianic figure in modern storytelling. The plot has many parallels with Jesus’ parable of the prodigal sons and similarly invites viewers to a different way of approaching life. To this day, that remains one of the most enjoyable posts to write.

Since then I’ve realized there’s far more gems that can be mined from this cinematic masterpiece. And one in particular that I think can help explain the role of angels.

There’s a short scene towards the beginning of the film that, up until recently, I wrote off as strictly comic relief. It’s the scene where he is sorting his treasures from the day and cannot figure out how to categorize the spork he found.

Unable to fit the spork neatly into either of his spoon and fork collections, WALL-E places it in the middle as a transition between the two. It is a simple scene. No words needed. It is a lighthearted way of depicting the consciousness that has miraculously developed in this trash-compacting robot.

Intentional or not, I think this little scene is a great distillation of the movie’s plot.

Fittingly the spork and WALL-E’s placement of it in this transitional space, represents the place WALL-E occupies within the movie. Sporks are uncanny and unique. They share some features of both forks and spoons but do not fit cleanly into either category.

WALL-E is a type of hybrid himself. A robot capable of human emotions. A hardworking trash collector who gazes at the stars. And as such he mediates the gap between humans and robots.

Just as WALL‑E recognizes the spork cannot belong exclusively in one category, Scripture often presents beings that occupy the space between worlds. The spork scene playfully mirrors the same tension that angels embody — creatures that bridge heaven and earth, matter and spirit, fear and reassurance.

Hybrids, Monsters and Mediators

Hybrids and monsters often play similar roles in stories. Fluffy, the large three-headed dog in Harry Potter, guards the door to the Sorcerer’s Stone. Alioth, the chaos monster from the TV show Loki, guards the End of Time from all other timelines. The Sphinx in Egyptian and Greek mythology guards locations of divinity. Even dragons (traditionally understood as mixtures of serpents, birds and cats), like Smaug from The Hobbit or Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty guard treasure, castles or princesses.

These creatures are often found in these transitional, or “liminal” areas.

Monsters like Alioth, Smaug and Maleficent serve as agents of chaos and destruction. Others like Fluffy and the Sphinx are more domesticated, serving as guardians. Gargoyles actually line the exterior of some churches to represent spiritual guardianship. And yet others can serve as helpful mediators and ambassadors.

The common thread for all of these however is twofold. They occupy these liminal spaces between where the protagonist in a story stands now and what’s next, for better or worse. And their features seem to defy all the categories we have from normal everyday life.

It’s this exact paradigm that causes children to fear monsters in dark rooms. What does happen next? “What if there are monsters?”

Angels as Mediators

After the fall in Genesis 3, cherubim are assigned the role of guarding the garden. The cherubim and seraphim were located within the temple in the Holy of Holies delineating the space where only God’s presence is located from the outer parts of the Temple. Angels move back and forth between heaven and earth by the ladder in Jacob’s dream.

And maybe most surprisingly is how often they met people in the wilderness, at their low points, when God would use these interactions to mold them for what comes after the wilderness. Jacob, Moses, Elijah, and yes, even Jesus too during his temptation in the wilderness were all ministered to by angels.

Angels are consistently used by God as messengers and ambassadors to encourage and support many who are lost in the wilderness of life.

So what do we make of this?

Union, Not Just Mediation

The Bible’s more apocalyptic books like Ezekiel and Revelation typically use exaggerated symbology to point to theological truths through visions as opposed to literally describing how things appear. The imagery functions similarly to the spork scene in WALL-E. As such, I tend to think the descriptions of angels with a mixture of faces and covered in eyes point more to their role and function as God’s agents in our world.

Throughout the Bible, angels are often encountered at the sacred thresholds of life. In those valleys and challenging seasons of life which present the “wilderness” situations where God has molded many in the past and can also mold us. Angels can help mediate heaven and earth for us in those seasons, even if we are unaware of their presence.

But this pattern also points us to Jesus. Fully man yet fully God. A seemingly impossible combination. One that we Christians can spend a lifetime struggling to grasp. And I think that’s okay.

And as we prepare for Easter, we can be reminded, as the author of Hebrews points out, that Jesus was even greater than the angels. Where the angels help mediate heaven and earth, through Jesus’ incarnation, life, death and resurrection he will consummate the union of heaven and earth. For just as WALL-E’s sacrifice of himself yielded the restoration of earth in the movie, Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross provides the bridge between heaven and earth.

And so when we, kids and adults alike, get scared of the unknown, whether it be potential monsters, the hopelessness of a difficult season, or maybe even interaction with an angel, I think it’s a helpful reminder that God can be found in those places too.

And that by walking through sacred thresholds where heaven and earth meet, with the aid of angels and his Son, he often shapes us for what comes next, in both this age and the one to come.

Voldemort and the Pharisees – Mirrors to Ourselves

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.

The Mirror of Erised

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.

Who is the Holy Spirit?

I wouldn’t say I was an avid reader growing up, but there were several books that I thoroughly enjoyed reading as a child. The Lord of the Rings, The Hardy Boys, and Harry Potter come to mind immediately. When I first read them, I appreciated these books simply for the story. The joy of an unforeseen plot twist in the Hardy Boy mysteries. The constant evolution and unfolding of characters like Severus Snape. And the freedom to imagine new worlds like Tolkien’s Middle Earth. However, as I’ve gotten older I’ve come to realize these books contain more than just the stories themselves and have started to appreciate the author behind the story more and more.

Similar to authorship, someone without going through proper education and training cannot just wake up one day and be an architect and design a house that will both stand and be aesthetically pleasing. And someone cannot instantly become a composer and write a piece of music worth listening to without some type of instruction. There are years of developing the skill and accumulating experience that leads to the final piece of art. I’m blown away by the creativity of these authors and am impressed with their ability to construct such poignant stories. I wish I could craft a story like the ones I read growing up, but it could not just happen by chance as The Simpsons so aptly illustrate in this clip.

In a way, the work of art is an extension of the artist. The house in some way takes on the character of the architect. Music takes on the character of it’s composer. The narrative takes on the character, or essence, of it’s author.

revising an old post

One of the first posts I ever had on my blog was “The Relationship of J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter.” It seemed like the most fitting story to write about, as I was a big Harry Potter fan as a kid.

I was the type of fan who was waiting in line at the bookstore before the store opened to pick up my reserved copy of each book when it was released type of fandom.

The type of fan that would forgo sleep to read each book in a matter of days.

The type of fan that went to the Barnes & Nobles midnight release party for the seventh and final book.

The type fan that dressed up as Harry Potter himself (and in my opinion pulled it off well) for Halloween! Sorry Ashley and Alex for not running this by you beforehand. Nice cat ears by the way Alex.

The whole post was intended to share an interesting illustration of God the Father and God the Son that I had stumbled upon. The premise of the illustration was that the only way Harry Potter could know who J.K. Rowling is would be if she were to write herself into the story. Then, and only then, Harry Potter would be able to know his author. The realization for me being that the only way to truly know the author of our story, would be for that author to write him or herself into human history. As Paul says in Colossians 1:15, “The Son is the image of the invisible God.” Christ took on human nature to reveal himself and walk alongside people to show who the author (if we stick with the analogy), God the Father, is.

It’s hard to believe it’s been over seven years since I published that post. Within that time, my thoughts on this analogy have changed. Not that I think it’s a wholly inaccurate illustration but that it’s incomplete. The Father and the Son, although being incredibly complex on their own, seem to be easier to grapple with than the third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, which I completely omitted in that post.

The Holy Spirit has often been mysterious, difficult to understand, and rarely discussed specifically, especially in our culture. Even as a regular church attender, I rarely hear much time dedicated to understanding probably the most obscure Person of the Trinity. And yet, the Holy Spirit is mentioned throughout the Bible from beginning to end. If you’ve been baptized, we are told that it is symbolic of being baptized with the Spirit. And that you have been given the Holy Spirit to dwell within you. What in the world does any of this mean? What is it that the Holy Spirit is doing? And who exactly is the Holy Spirit? I know these questions have been some of the most difficult for me to answer personally.

In my last post, I started exploring what spirits are. “Spirit” is no longer in our vernacular, and is probably indicative of why the Holy Spirit gets so little conversation in our culture. Spirits are similar to what we would call values or ideologies today. They are dynamic and invisible and are shared and developed within interpersonal spaces. Spirits can influence individuals, families, communities, and nations in both positive and negative ways.

But I think to really begin to see how spirits, and the Holy Spirit specifically are at work in the world, we need to explore what this word “spirit” has meant historically.

the root of the word “spirit”

Our use of the word spirit today derives from the Latin word “spirare,” which means “to breathe”. There are many other words that we use today that come from this same root that we probably wouldn’t associate with the word “spirit.” Aspire means to “breath on”, or to work towards a goal. Conspire is to “breath together” or craft a plot together. Inspire is to “breath into”. And even respiration, or to “breathe again” comes from this same root word “spirare.”

So what in the world does “spirit” have to do with breathing, and is this just another one of those weird aspects of the English language that our word spirit would be associated with this Latin root that seems unrelated?

Surprisingly the answer is an emphatic “No.” This isn’t just a “the English language is weird” thing. The Greek and Hebrew words for spirit were “Pneuma” and “Ruach,” respectively and both of these words were used to represent the words breath, spirit and wind. While in English we have separate words for all three of these, the Hebrew and Greek languages have one word that means all three. That breath, spirit, and wind were all related to one another within these cultures.

And this is consistent with how the Holy Spirit is depicted throughout the Bible. The Spirit hovering over the waters at the beginning of creation. God breathing life into the nostrils of Adam. God breathing life into the dry bones in Ezekiel. The Holy Spirit descending like a dove onto Jesus at his baptism. Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit onto the disciples. The loud wind that is associated with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. This imagery is even used for those born of the Spirit.

"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." - John 3:8 -

From the vantage point of the writers of scripture, they saw the wind, breath, and spirit as one and the same, animating and giving life to the world around us. It sounds very mystical and like an antiquated way of looking at the world. But should it be?

the “trinity” in harry potter

Sticking with the Harry Potter analogy, consider that part of J.K. Rowling’s essence is found in every word, every sentence, and every chapter that moves the plot line. Her character, her values, her dreams, her aspirations, and her experiences are distilled and breathed into these books and animate the characters bringing this fictional world to life. That if J.K. Rowling were to write herself into the story, we could see a similar “trinity” in play. J.K. Rowling as the author, J.K. Rowling as the character within the Harry Potter story line, and the dynamic “spirit” of J.K. Rowling that permeates through and inspires the entire story line to bring about her desired plot line.

For Augustine, an early Christian theologian from the 4th and 5th centuries, love served as the best example he could use for the Trinity.

“Now when I, who am asking about this, love anything, there are three things present: I myself, what I love, and love itself. For I cannot love unless I love a lover; for there is no love where nothing is loved. So there are three things: the lover, the loved and the love.”

The person of the Holy Spirit only becomes more beautiful when we consider His role within the Bible. God’s Holy Spirit emanates from this relationship between the Father and the Son and it’s what gives life to the very story we are a part of. It’s similar to J.K. Rowling’s love for Harry Potter, and that love manifesting itself in what I think is a very beautiful and well-written story revolving around him.

And just like how J.K. Rowling worked through Dumbledore, Snape, Hermione, Ron, and a host of other characters to carry out this storyline, God has invited us to breathe in His Holy Spirit. He has invited us to allow Him to dwell within, motivate and empower us as He carries out his story. Not that this is the only spirit we are inspired by, but that it is the one spirit that gives life and blows us like the wind towards the things in keeping with who God is.

Maybe this is all sounds weird and strange. I would completely understand anyone who felt that way as I clearly couldn’t have articulated the Holy Spirit this way seven years ago when I first attempted this illustration. For me, this recent shift in my perspectives on the nature of God and specifically His Person of the Holy Spirit has been life giving. The ability to rest and not feel like it’s all in my power. And the ability to “test the spirits” as John would say and see what’s worth breathing in.

I’m sure many of us heard the old adage growing up “You become what you eat.” May I suggest one slightly modified? Maybe that you become what spirits you breathe in? The questions then are, “Is there an author to this crazy thing we call life?” and “Do you trust the author enough to breathe in their spirit and allow them to work through you?”

Quick disclaimer

I’ve heard it said that theology is like a map. The maps we use are scaled down and smaller representations of the actual world. It’s this smaller size that allows us to use the map. And the map hopefully has sufficient details for our purposes of navigating the world. Likewise, this illustration is not a complete and exhaustive depiction of who the Holy Spirit is. It is a reduction, or a map, that for me helps me to navigate my relationship with God. And my hope is that it helps you. And hopefully over time, that map becomes more detailed, more vibrant, and more accurate.

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” – 1 Corinthians 13:12

Let me know your thoughts and if you have any other helpful ways you have found to explain the Holy Spirit.