The word “warlock” is not in any English translation of the Bible. Pick any acronym from the ever-expanding alphabet soup of Bible flavors. The word is not in the KJV, the NKJV, the NIV, the ESV, the CEV or any other. I checked (twice), just to make sure.
So if warlocks were the enemies of God Almighty, one would think they’d merit a mention. If God ever called for their summary execution, I would hope to find at least one obscure Old Testament reference. Something in Leviticus, perhaps, the book that covers a cornucopia of death-worthy offenses, such as parental cursing (Leviticus 20:9), sleeping with your dad’s wife (Leviticus 20:11) and straight-up blasphemy (Leviticus 24:16). But no warlocks.
But Leviticus 20:27 is a little problematic.
Some translations of this verse call out the punishable wrongs of “spiritists” and “mediums.” The English Standard Version, one of the most modern translations, is very specific about what kind of practiced magic is very wrong.
“A man or a woman who is a medium or a necromancer shall surely be put to death. They shall be stoned with stones; their blood shall be upon them.”
So by the ESV (a translation claiming to be “as literal as possible“), we need only be concerned about folks that either speak with the dead (mediums), or those that raise them from the grave to do their bidding (necromancers).
But wait, here comes the old reliable King James Version. No warlocks to be found, as stated, but wizards do merit a spot on the sanctioned termination list, at least in the KJV. The KJV spells it out thusly:
“A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death: they shall stone them with stones: their blood shall be upon them.”
The KJV gives not only the call to action, but also the means. The NKJV reads basically the same. But at the time of translation, what did the word “wizard” mean? Translated in Shakespeare’s age, it only makes sense that the KJV would follow a similar linguistic route to that of the playwright.
Wizards are mentioned specifically in A Comedy Of Errors, Henry IV (Part II) and Richard III.
In Richard III, a wizard is a kind of sage or sooth-sayer.
He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
And from the cross-row plucks the letter G. 60
And says a wizard told him that by G
His issue disinherited should be.*
When Bolingbroke uses the term early in Henry IV (Part 2), the meaning appears to be the same (“Wizards know their times.”). But in a later scene, when Somerset falls at St. Alban’s, the word seems to be in reference to Saint Alban himself.
So, lie thou there;
For underneath an alehouse’ paltry sign,
The Castle in Saint Alban’s, Somerset
Hath made the wizard famous in his death.*
And most ironically, in Comedy Of Errors, when Antipholus tells Pinch to back the hell off (“Peace, doting wizard, peace! I am not mad.”), what is Pinch doing? He’s attempting to exorcise Satan himself from Antipholus.
I charge thee, Satan, housed within this man,
To yield possession to my holy prayers
And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight:
I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven!
To Antipholus, it seems, a wizard and a priest are one in the same thing. Curious.
Are true believers directed to take out their moral frustrations on priests and saints? Probably not. What about targeting folks that predict the future? That would seem to be cut and dried, until we stop to consider the story of Daniel, the Old Testament hero who foretold the end of the Babylonian Empire by interpreting dreams (both his own and those of King Nebuchadnezzar). Surely, nobody would interpret Leviticus 20:27 as a reason to put a hit on Daniel.
Or would they? If we flip back a chapter, we’ll see that Daniel is in even hotter water. And so are the rest of us. Here’s Leviticus 19:26-28 …
“You shall not eat any flesh with the blood in it. You shall not interpret omens or tell fortunes. You shall not round off the hair on your temples or mar the edges of your beard. You shall not make any cuts on your body for the dead or tattoo yourselves: I am the LORD.
We’re in trouble, my brothers and sisters. Leviticus 19:26-28 covers not only flinging fortunes, but eating your steak rare, trimming your van dyke, getting your hair did, getting tattoos and (it would seem) being emo.
And quite frankly, if you’ve broken none of the Levitical laws mentioned so far, don’t worry. There is most certainly a chapter and verse with your name on it in big scarlet letters.
So what to make of it all? I decided to dive into this discussion of Biblical law because of Harry Potter. With the recent release of the last Potter book, we’ve seen not only a public resurfacing of proud Potterphiles, but also a resurgance of those who rail against The Boy Who Lived. I’m not talking about the scores of well-meaning people who oppose the Potter books because of their pop appeal, their supposed lack of quality or their lack of relevance across the greater scheme of English Literature. That’s fine. Libraries are full of books and nobody has to like every last one. Instead, I’m talking about the double-handful of self-appointed defenders of decency who come after the books from a position of Christian opposition.
Here in Atlanta, we’ve got our own crusader in Laura Mallory. Though defeated when last she attempted to purge Potter from the public schools of Loganville, I’ve no doubt that she’s regrouping to mount another attack. Another 780 pages of sin have been added to the Potter canon, and though she’s never read a single page of any of the seven books, I’m sure she’ll just somehow know in her heart that Deathly Hallows is the worst of the lot.
But the most striking example is the video making the rounds at various left-leaning blogs like Pandagon and Orcinus. The 45-second clip is from Jesus Camp, a 2006 documentary film that remains on my need-to-watch-someday list. In it, a woman is leading is preaching to a group of kids, some parents as well. They’re maybe 10 or 11 years old. Breathlessly, as if she’s been holding back until right that moment, she says …
“And while I’m on the subject … let me say something about Harry Potter. [pause] Warlocks are enemies of God! And I don’t care what kind of hero they are, they’re an enemy of God. And had it been in the Old Testament, Harry Potter would’ve been put to death! You don’t make heroes out of warlocks! This is a generation that’s gonna stand for purity and righteousness and holiness and you’re gonna serve the Lord all the days of your life.”
That’s some high octane brimstone, particularly for a pack of modern American kids. But tell me something, class. What have we learned already today? That’s right.
The word “warlock” is not in any English translation of the Bible.
Let us break this down even further. Our feverish minister is on shaky ground, even if we extend the meaning and find a way to insert “warlock” into Leviticus 20:27 — and that is exactly the Bible verse in question, because no other Biblical reference to some manner of sorcery is as direct about the application of capital punishment in such a situation. For you see, while Levitical law takes issue with entertaining actual wizards/mediums/spiritists/necromancers in your neighborhood, it doesn’t seem to have much to say about these individuals when they’re entirely fictional.
Then there’s the “it.” “And had it been in the Old Testament.” We can only guess that she means to say, had the fictional character of Harry Potter lived in the geographical area and historical era covered by the Old Testament, then he would’ve been a goner. And hey, she’s probably right. OT folk wouldn’t have found chocolate frogs and horcruxes the least bit amusing. But by the same token, if any of us were to wake up tomorrow morning in old Judea, armed to the teeth with our mobile phones, digital cameras, iPods and deodorant … well, that kind of techological magic would be more than enough to paint a “Lob Stone Here” target on the back of anyone’s skull.
The cutting stroke of her mini-sermon is the bit about heroes. “You don’t make heroes out of warlocks!” Ostensibly, this is a condemnation of J.K. Rowling. How dare she set a boy wizard on a pseudo-Campbellian Hero’s Journey. But if you look at the faces of the children in that crowd, the ones that are watching her and trying to take it all in, you’ll see a unmistakable flashes of guilt, particularly during the parts about Harry the hero. Because they’re the ones who’ve taken up Harry’s little banner. They’re the ones who cheer when Harry succeeds. How dare they make a hero out of a warlock.
Why do this? Pandagon has hit several nails on several heads about the whys. These are tempered with an expected amount of snark and derision for fundamentalism, every bit of it understandable, even if I can’t help but wonder often where all the reasonable Christians are hiding while the fringe is flying the flag.
I’d add that this is steeped in ignorance, a fear of the unknown (or rather, the misunderstood — or more likely, those things that people are unwilling to understand) that is deeply engrained. Because every generation has its pop cultural bastion of evil. When I was a kid, Satan hid in the 20-sided dice of a Dungeons & Dragons game, when he wasn’t playing backwards electric bass in heavy metal music.
But deep inside, the true culprit that creeps in the shadows of their heart’s is reality itself. Evil is more manageable when it can be found in the bound pages of a children’s book. Harry Potter is the easier crusade, surrounded as we are by the pervasive global presence of political corruption, inexcusable poverty and rampant disregard for human life — the lives that are being lived, especially. Given the choice, Harry is a target within short reach.
I had more to say here about belief, how we can only be affected (adversely or not) by where we choose to place our faith, but I’ve taken enough of your time. You’re smart people. You’ll figure it out.
I’ve faith in you.
[tags]harry potter, leviticus, jesus camp[/tags]
