Thursday, January 26, 2017

Answering what it means to be a Christian author--the Mythic Orbits 2016 way.

(the chart above illustrates the updated view of this story classification system)

This blog post is inspired by a reviewer of Mythic Orbits 2016 who stated he felt the collection did not comment on what it means to be a Christian author. I disagree and will explain.

To set context, more than a decade ago I had a conversation with some writer friends in a critique group. What does it mean to be a "Christian" author of speculative fiction?

At one point in the conversation a friend said, "Does a Christian bricklayer lay Christian bricks?" (Johne Cook said that.) His point was that the work Christians do is just that, WORK, and it is not marked by everything we do being what anyone would call, "Christian." In fact, his point raised the question, "Is it even possible for work to be Christian?"

I objected, saying something like, "Yeah, but stories are built out of ideas, unlike bricks. It's possible for an idea to line up with Christian doctrine or not. Therefore it is possible to write a Christian story in speculative fiction. And that's what Christian authors ought to be doing."

This divide among my fellow Christian authors has never gone away. Some writers I know feel that the very attempt to write a Christian story is a wasted effort. Others feel that a Christian story is a real thing and furthermore, what any self-identifying "Christian" author ought to be creating.

And some Christian authors fall in-between those two poles, of course. Including me now.

I would now say that I believe God is involved in the act of inspiration for those who are committed to Him. By "committed to Him," I mean I think it's possible for a Christian to shut out God from his or her thoughts and write something that in fact contradicts what God would want a person to do. So a Christian author should be careful to maintain a close relationship with God and examine each work individually to see if it matches up.

But other than what I just said, I think following inspiration where God lets it lead is what we are supposed to do. I have come to believe that the God who put such a variety in nature will inspire us as Christian authors in myriad ways. Some of us will be overt and/or very evangelical. Some will be more subtle. There is room for both and all varieties in between. 

This current attitude of mine was why I sought out Christian authors for a collection of speculative fiction short stories in Mythic Orbits 2016, without requiring them to write to any specific theme or meet any doctrinal standard.

If you subject the stories I published to some analysis, you will find the authors resolved the issue of writing stories as Christians in a variety of ways. I'm going to break down the methods used and name them by type, from most to least overt.

TYPE ONE: These are OVERT in referencing something directly related to Christianity with that message CENTRAL to the story (even if an unconventional message). Direct references to Christian doctrines and beliefs come on a recurrent basis throughout the story or are the central point of the plot, without which the story would cease to exist. In Mythic Orbits 2016, those were:

1. Sherry Rossman's "The Water Man" has a direct reference to visible souls of dead people right from the beginning, portrays a character with faith and a sense of conscience, quotes a psalm (without saying it is a psalm), and refers to Jesus directly in the story. (But still involves murder, removing it from being a Sunday School story :) ) OVERT, CENTRAL.

2. Joshua M. Young's "Domo" features an android pondering the meaning of mortality and God and seeking answers from a priest. OVERT and CENTRAL.

TYPE TWO: Stories that are OVERT in Christian references but such references are NOT CENTRAL to the story. Clearly what is central to a story is a bit subjective, but I would say for these you could remove the Christian references and still have a story--but it would be a different story, of course.

1. "HMS Mangled Treasure" by L. Jagi Lamplighter Wright is the one tale I am not sure whether or not it would be better described as a Type 1 or Type 2, but have decided 2 is a better description. Jagi has the issue of souls come up with important story results, the central character is overtly Christian, but the essential plot of rescuing a doll from faries would be the same without Christian references, though the ending of the story would be very different. OVERT, but probably best described as NOT CENTRAL.

2. "The Disembodied Hand," by Jill Domschot features a secondary character who helps the protagonist, who makes an open reference to believing in God and who prays. This character could probably be altered to making no references to God and not praying, though this would change the impact of the story. Perhaps the Christian references are central to the story for the author, but I would say they are not. OVERT, NOT CENTRAL.

3. "Nether Ore," by Kirk Outerbridge features a freaky world of a future dystopia filled with viscous squid. The main character "overtly" dreams of a world where the Bible is read and his dreams wind up having an important connection to the end of the tale. Several other characters make overt statements about the Bible and it's clear the good guys believe. But erasing the Christian references would still leave a tale of dystopian, squid-infested waters. OVERT, NOT CENTRAL.

4. "Cameo" by Linda Burklin features a young woman as the main character who prays and several other references to prayers to God, which in cultural context of the story can safely be assumed to be Christian prayers. Still, the story would be essentially the same story if the references were removed. OVERT, NOT CENTRAL.

TYPE THREE: Stories which have INDIRECT (or covert even) Christian references, but such references are CENTRAL to the story. The Christian themes cannot be removed without gutting the story, but such themes are not openly stated.

--After the original posting I broke this down into a type THREE A and THREE B. The A's would have indirect but very clear references. The B's would have indirect but not as clear references to Christianity.
1. "The Bones Don't Lie," by Mark Venturini occurs in a parallel world, where God is referred to as the "Eternal Lord." It's quite clear what this reference means, but the priests in the story, their means of determining God's will (by casting bones), and even what they are looking for is quite distinct from any direct references to Christ or God or overt Christian messages. But the religious element that parallels Christianity is essential to the tale. INDIRECT but CLEAR, CENTRAL. (Type 3A)

2. "Graxin" by Kerry Nietz has a central theme of prizing a particular thing that Kerry told me relates to the "Pearl of Great Price" parable in the New Testament and which relates to the concept of love. While saying this relates to Christianity is a matter of interpretation, the author's stated intent counts and this theme IS essential to the story. INDIRECT but NOT CLEAR, CENTRAL. (Type 3B)

3. "Baby, don't cry," by RV Saunders has an indirect reference to the human sin nature in accordance with Christian ideas that is indirect to the degree that someone could debate whether it's Christian at all (though it is very clearly there). But I believe it does qualify as a reference to Christian thought and I think the story would cease to exist without the protagonist deliberately trying to hurt her friend.  INDIRECT but NOT CLEAR, CENTRAL. (Type 3B)

TYPE FOUR: The logical-analytical types reading this know what's coming next: INDIRECT, NOT CENTRAL. Several stories in this collection make Christian references that are indirect and not central to the story.

1. "Escapee," by Richard New features a protagonist who behaves monstrously. His victims in the tale are aliens, who have a chapel on their ship with the image of an alien suffering on a Y-shaped post. Clearly the good aliens have beliefs which parallel Christianity, providing an INDIRECT but CLEAR reference to the Christian faith. But the protagonist's story could exist without such a reference. NOT CENTRAL. (TYPE 4A.)

2. "Ghost Roommate," by Matthew Sketchley features a mostly-comic ghost which begins to take on a more sinister aspect as the tale moves along. One passage compares ghosts to demons, providing an extremely indirect Christian reference which could easily be removed from the tale. INDIRECT, DEBATABLE/NOT CLEAR, NOT CENTRAL. (TYPE 4B.)

TYPE FIVE: No clear Christian references at all, but a direct or indirect moral message that is harmonious with Christianity. 

1. "Dental Troll," by Lisa Godfrees shows a girly trying to avoid pain at all costs--and finding such an effort to be a mistake. MORAL, NOT CHRISTIAN

2. "A Model of Decorum," by Cindy Emmet Smith shows a protagonist who is exceptionally polite and well-behaved as a general rule (with an important exception), who experiences a reward for her good behavior. No clear Christian references at all. MORAL, NOT CHRISTIAN. 

TYPE SIX: Just a story, folks. No real moral is evident. Nor are there any Christian references, either direct or indirect.

Mythic Orbits 2016 has only one story in this category:

Kat Heckenbach's "Clay's Fire." We could argue the central character experiences empathy for both the storyteller and the protagonist in the story-within-a-story and feeling empathy relates to the Christian virtue of love. But the story in no way reinforces or rewards this empathy. It simply tells a story.

I suppose there could be other types of Christian stories I haven't seen in Mythic Orbits 2016. But I have a sense that the categories I discovered in the tales submitted to me would do a good job of covering most of the possible ways a story could be considered "Christian" in theme.

Do you agree or disagree with the categories I created? If you disagree, what other ways would you identify Christian stories?

And what types of stories do YOU write? Please feel free to mention your own style in the comments below this post. :)


Monday, December 19, 2016

A Modular Brain

This post originated in me wondering if humans like to kiss because the mouth is the part of the face, which perhaps is the part of the body most closely associated with our conscious self, the part of the mind where we mentally abide, our own internal living room  as it were (as if the face, including vision, were the primary window the conscious mind uses to connect to the world, whereas other means are more distant, like windows in a basement you can access but have to move your vantage point to do so). As opposed to your subconscious being more connected to other parts of your body, like your internal organs (things you can feel but normally are not aware of unless you are in pain, like your breathing or how your knee is operating, would occupy a boderline between the conscious and unconsious mind).

As I was thinking about this, an image of old Nintendo style game cartridges plugged into a human skull popped into my head, generating an idea that stemmed from that picture. What if it were possible to have a living human being with a modular brain, a plug & play system?

This is would be just one aspect of being a cyborg and is not really original to me. Perhaps possibly though it is original to think of writing a science ficiton story in which different parts of the brain could be mixed on a modular basis. So I could match the conscious mind of a human being with the limbs of an octopus. Or horse. Or an alien creature. Or a story could flip a subconscious so it operates machinery, while the conscious self perhaps believed it was still fully human. Or I could plug an alien conscious mind into human limbs, etc.

Or more narrowly, what if you could pick eagle eye input, bat sonar, and an elephant nose input to be fed into your brain? And the brain parts would be adapted in this form of plug & play to be able to process these unusual imputs and harmonize them into the whole system? Like a sort of mental USB that in these examples connected to exterior sensors?

What if wholly internal processes were subject to his same modularity? So you could adopt Vulcan logic as a plug-in and swap it out for a Klingon battle mindset when you needed it? (The possibilites would be endless.)

What if fine-tuning and customizing your own brain were a major industry of the future?

Whether this happened in some sort of cyberspace or in a futuristic cyborg reality would give nuances to what this story would actually be like. But I think writers usually think of our minds and or bodies becoming something else as a whole unit. Or more often, rather than trying to transform the way a human thinks in a story, they imagine what we would consider an ordinary human mind inside another kind of body--as if you could put your mind in a bear or a whale or something like that.

Imagine a story that did it differently. Where separate mental functions were plug & play and you swap them out as needed, as frequently as you wanted.  A modular brain.


Friday, December 2, 2016

The Quantum God: Every One of You Who is in HEAVEN and in HELL

So, as discussed in the last post in this blog, what if a specifically Christian story took the many Many Worlds Interpretation (MWI) of Quantum Mechanics seriously?

What if God allowed to happen each and every moral choice human beings could make? So each alternative decision played out in one alternate universe or other? (This would include multiple versions of the Bible existing in different universes, as I mentioned in my last post.)

And what if, as I also said in my last post, God created every universe at a common starting point, then deliberately brought them back to a common end?

If that were true, if there were only one common heaven where God brought everyone back into a shared eternity, that would have a particular unusual effect. It would perhaps mean that there would be multiple versions of each person who believed in that common shared heaven. The believing you who got married for the first time at 20 and the one who waited until 39. The one who joined the military and the one who became a Quaker. The one who died in a horrible accident at age 7 and the one who lived to 97.

That would be a little strange to say the least, right? Seeing yourself in hundreds of alternative forms, possibly thousands or more? Though note that this version of Many Worlds would only split along moral choices and not along every single possible thing that could happen as in the standard MWI. There would not be millions of you--I wouldn't imagine that anyone actually has made that many decisions that are specifically of a moral character. (If you made just over 27 of such decisions every single day from the time of your birth until your death at age 100, you would just barely hit 1 million. Methuselah could have a million copies...but I doubt it.)

Even among the small-town-quantity of duplicate selves, it stands to reason that all of you would get along, even if you took wildly divergent paths in life (this is heaven we're talking about, after all, the essential issues making people fight being ironed out). And it would be very interesting to find out how your life would have turned out differently if you had done X instead of Y. You could perhaps spend at least ten thousand years catching up with what happened to other versions of you. I believe that each path would serve to demonstrate that doing things God's way in each and every decision would have been best and wisest.

Perhaps though instead of having multiple versions of you, God would perform a miracle that combined all different versions of yourself into one being. Perhaps then you would have as your own memories all the different choices you made in every lifetime in all the divergent universes, even if such memories contradicted one another. We can imagine that the enhanced mind of a person in heaven would be able to seriously out-think the limited minds of our current world, so perhaps having your mind full of the memories of other versions of you would not be so difficult to deal with as it might sound. Perhaps it would also have the effect of making just being you much more interesting than it ever was before, composing one of a number of things that would make boredom an unknown condition in eternity.

As interesting as it might be to contemplate the collective you in heaven, it might be more interesting to ponder what would happen to those of you who did not become Christian believers. Those who according to standard Christian doctrine (which holds that disbelief--or in some doctrinal systems, extreme moral corruption--is damning) are doomed to an eternal hell.

Note though that there have been dissenters to the view I just called "standard." Some Christians have believed that all people will wind up in heaven and others have maintained hell is temporary. To which the standard position sharply answers, "Why would there be warnings about hell if no one goes there?" and "Why would hell be temporary when the descriptions given of it talk about it enduring without end?" To which the other side responds with verses about God loving everyone in the world and wanting everyone to be saved. To which the standard reply is that yes, God loves everyone, but He is not going to take away the ability to make moral choices. Including refusing to choose to follow Him and suffering the consequences of that refusal.

Note how this story idea takes the idea of choosing to believe or not and gives it a twist. What if, for the purposes of making an interesting story, we propose that both things are true? Everyone does go to heaven, but also only those who believe (and obey) God go there. Which harmonizes by imagining that every single person has at least one version of himself or herself who believes, so that every single person in all of human history has at least one form of himself or herself in heaven. EVERY single person would go to heaven, yes, WHILE simultaneously everyone there would enter because of their moral choice (even though not all versions of every single person would be there, naturally).

Note that with the exception of Christ, there would also be versions of all of the human race in hell. What if (again, this is a story idea and not a doctrinal proposition) unlike heaven in which all believing versions would be somehow united in one place, hell had multiple versions? Perhaps a separate, individual "outer darkness" for each individual who did not come to faith? Perhaps then hell would be permanent only for the very worst moral versions of people?

I have observed that people who don't like the idea of hell often change their position when talking about someone like Adolf Hitler--people can accept the idea that Hitler belongs in hell, but will at the same time refuse to believe that a great many humans have hatred in their hearts like Hitler and would have followed him if given the chance. So what if Hitler and all the Hitler-like versions of ourselves suffered eternally, but not every version of everyone not in heaven did so? What if these other versions who were not the worst of the worst were simply wiped out? Or given the chance to reform somehow?

When mentioning a status between full, eternal hell and heaven, I realize that may sound like I am proposing some form of Purgatory on the one hand or execution of the soul on the other. Note I'm a Protestant and don't see clear evidence of Purgatory in the Bible, nor of soul death. I don't believe in either thing. I'm not promoting what I believe to be true, but as a science fiction writer I'm proposing that there may be things about the workings of God which are unknown to us to the degree that when we enter eternity, we will find things aren't really quite what we thought they were--that the universe works differently than we believed it did. 

IF there are multiple versions of each and every one of us (that's a big IF, but let's run with it) then perhaps there are whole new ways of looking at our reality that match what is written in the Bible we have--and even allows for multiple true versions of that Bible, based on choices the human beings within it made.  But gives the Scriptures interpretations no human being, living or dead, has ever imagined before now. 

Science fiction takes what could be possibly true from at least from one perspective, even if unlikely, and imagines that it really were true. Doing that within the scope of what the Christian Bible teaches is only very rarely even being attempted. Non-believers are either not interested in Christian teachings or wish to show them to be wrong, while Christian believers tend to hold back on fully exploring their faith through the lens of fiction.

To my fellow Christian speculative fiction writers: Why not imagine multiple hells and a bizarre and unexpected union of myriads of universes of choice in a single heaven? Why not imagine meeting yourself in heaven again and again, while other versions of you hope to escape from hell? Why not write it?


Tuesday, November 8, 2016

The Quantum Mechanics God of Alternate Reality Bibles

This post with an odd title will share a set of distinctly Christian story ideas loosely linked into the Many Worlds Interpretation (or MWI) of quantum mechanics.

So I feel compelled to explain what MWI actually is first. For readers who feel they understand MWI well, feel free to skip down 7 paragraphs, where I will begin talking again about what MWI means and how that relates to a story idea in bold print

In short, MWI sees that all possible alternate histories and futures are real. A way to tie that back into the specific language of physics would be to affirm that this interpretation "asserts the objective reality of the universal wavefunction and denies the actuality of the wavefunction collapse."

For those readers who many not understand the phrase I just used above (I pulled it off Wikipedia, BTW), I'm going to put into my own lay terms what I just quoted, using an electron as my example. According to quantum mechanics, the exact position and motion of an electron cannot be known. Not fully. To keep this as brief as possible, that means the position of an electron (and other quanta) can only be estimated based on probability. The electron can in fact be nearly anywhere, but the chances of it being on the other side of the universe when it just left an atom here on Earth is very close to zero. Note what I just said--the chances are "very close" to zero. But they are not zero. According to quantum mechanics there are very low probabilities (yes very, very low) that an electron that was on Earth just a nanosecond ago is now in the Andromeda galaxy somewhere. Yes, this definitely seems to contradict everything you have heard about the speed of light, that nothing can go faster than the speed of light in a vacuum, which would be about 300,000 kilometers per second. (In more than just this, the physics of quantum mechanics does not agree with the physics of relativity very well.) However, the chances are much greater that the electron is somewhere not far from its last position.

So the situation I just described, concerning the position of any quantum such as our electron being unknown, means in modern physics that the possible locations of the electron are calculated based on where it might be, producing something called a "wavefunction." (Wavefunctions can be combined to provide for all possible locations of an electron. All such possible combinations of wavefunctions is what the term "universal wavefunction" is driving at.)

For reasons I am not going to explain here that have to do with wave interference, it appears that our electron weirdly actually IS in a wide variety of places at the same time when it can be described as a wavefunction. So it isn't just that it is hard to find--it is acting as a different kind of thing, a wave. But when you measure where the individual electron happens to be at any given moment within the wavefunction, it "collapses," which means that instead of being in many places, the act of measuring the electron forces it to actually be in just one place at a time, so all the probable locations become one-and-only-one observed location. 
Note that isn't the same as not knowing where the electron is and finding it. The "finding it" in fact changes its nature and causes it to behave in a completely different way that it would if it were unmeasured (as a "wavefunction," an electron seems to act as a wave of different simultaneous locations, but once the function has "collapsed," it acts as a particle).

The Many Worlds Interpretation says my hypothetical electron seems to be in many places because there are a wide range of universes in which the electron actually is in each possible place it could be. And this variety of universes is seen in the wavefunction characteristics only giving probable simultaneous locations. When I make a measurement about the specific location of an electron, instead of the wavefunction collapsing so that all the possible locations boil down to really only one location, the MWI interpretation says that the electron continues to be in all the separate places it could be--there is no collapse. But we just happen to be living in only one of the possible outcomes for that electron. All the other possibilities continue to exist in other universes which are separated from us.

MWI sees the number of universes as not only for all practical purposes infinite, it sees that with each branching of quanta, with each wavefront collapse, with each decision if we want to think of it that way, the number of universes increases. And there would be a universe in which every possible decision that could be made at the tiniest scale (that's what the term "quanta" describes, the tiniest possible things), was in fact made.

So why did I bother to explain the meaning of the Many Worlds Interpretation? To make a few things clear about it. 1. It is just one way of interpreting physics. It is in no way actually known to be true--there are other possible interpretations. 2. It's a view of the universe based on science. So some very smart people buy into MWI wholeheartedly and think this is how the universe really works (I don't agree with them, but that doesn't matter here). 3. It undergirds the alternate reality sort of story which is very popular in science fiction. 4. I would like to use it as a launching point for a new kind of science fiction story, one that presumes God is real and the Bible is His message.

So, what if the MWI interpretation of quantum mechanics were actually true? How would that relate to the God of the Bible?

Let's suppose, just for the purposes of floating a story idea that at least some readers might take seriously, that quantum universe variations don't apply to God and the original creation, but they DO apply to the universe once God created it. So there would be an alternate universe where Adam and Eve never sinned and the human race lives in a global Eden on Planet Earth. There would be a Moses who did not strike the rock when God told him to speak to it, who would enter the Promised Land instead of dying outside it. There would be an ancient Israel where the kings never strayed from righteousness, which was never conquered by the Babylonians. And another Israel in which the Jewish leaders under Roman domination would have wholeheartedly embraced Jesus. Etc.

Note that God would not be inconsistent in this imaginary story conception. Human beings would have freedom to act and God would simply react to them as they responded to the choices He gave them.

Note also that this is a non-deterministic look at God. God can't have predetermined every single thing for this to work as a story. 
Or at least, if He did predetermine everything, He would need to have done so many separate times, Him allowing (well, actually, sovereignly ordaining) each choice a person could make to be performed throughout the universes. So there would be a plethora, but not an infinite number, of universes all wrapped around individual human moral decisions. Human moral choice would be the source of the division of universes and not the rattling of tiny quanta--which would be one of the key differences between this sort of story and the typical science fiction alternate reality tale.

Since God's character would remain the same in this Christian version of MWI, there would still be a sacrifice for sin, if sin in fact were to be introduced into the given world (it would seem sin would be a part of all possible worlds except only for one, the one in which Adam and Eve obeyed perfectly). But Christ would have to die in separate circumstances for each reality, each separate universe having its own version of the Savior for the universe at that point. Christ dying once for sins, as the New Testament says He did, would only apply to once for any given universe.

So, what if for each possible choice presented to human beings by God in Biblical times, a version of the Bible existed which covered the choices made? Where every alternate action would have actually HAPPENED in an another universe?

So there would be a plethora of possible Bibles. Not an infinite number, because the moral choices God mandated human beings make in Scripture are not infinite in number. Say there were 10,000 different Bibles across the universes. Or 7,000--that's more of a Biblical figure. :) (though if we were to count small changes, 7 million might be more like it)

Why shouldn't a Christian author of science fiction feature a story where God is consistent but the people who responded to God did radically different things? So as people somehow cross into an alternate reality, as so often happens in stories like this, they would find ALL possible realities contain a Bible and Christianity (or something essentially like it), but the Bibles were not in fact the same in each alternate world? And the very worlds people lived in were different as well, based on differing Biblical influences?

I see no problem extending this moral decision-making past Biblical times. So there might be 7,000 versions of the Bible, but each individual Bible would have separate alternate universes branching off from it, separate universes in which that particular original text was used. 

So the universe that produced our Bible, as we have it, would have separated further after Scripture was written. So it would represent perhaps tens of millions of alternate realities, each reality based on moral choices made in relation to God post the writing of the Bible. 

Likewise there would be tens of millions of alternate realities linked to other Bible versions. Variations in Scripture and translations could become the most important means of figuring out which universe you were in--or at least in which SET of universes you had entered.

Wouldn't it be interesting if also all versions of the Bible, no matter what they are, ALL had essentially the same first and last chapters, even if everything else in them changed? That God would bring all the different quantum universes to the same eternal state, just as all of them came from the same initial creation.

I have more thoughts to share on this story idea, but I believe what I can say next will stand alone well as its own blog post. And that perhaps I have written enough on this idea for now, anyway. :)


Wednesday, November 2, 2016

The Walking Dead--Maybe it's Time For me to Stop Watching

This blog post commits no real spoilers concerning The Walking Dead season 7 opener. I'll say it's brutal but not necessarily highly realistic, without divulging anything more specific than some general comments on story events which are widely-known and some other comments about head injuries. And I mention that the featured bad guy is surprisingly charismatic and charming. I won't even bother to say his name.

That this bad guy kills should be known by everyone even vaguely familiar with the show and all its advertised hype. That he does so with a special baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire should also be known. Also that the killing is brutal should be known, perhaps the most violent actions shown on "regular" television in the USA--all that has been the talk of the Internet of late.

I suppose realism would be the justification for showing as much gore as the episode does. However, what was shown actually wasn't highly realistic. It could be argued that reality is significantly worse and there's a point to that. For example, the scalp is notorious for bleeding heavily. On one particular occasion, hitting my head on the ground hard on my 3rd jump at US Army airborne school, with a helmet not quite fitting right, the jerking helmet net gave me cut on the top of my scalp not one inch long. And that little cut bled quite a bit, so much so that another soldier said I looked like an extra from Braveheart, my face wholly covered in red--and I barely felt any pain. Of course not all scalp cuts are equally that bloody. But what happened to me wasn't highly unusual. Scalp injuries, in general, bleed. A lot.

So strict realism would require a lot more blood at first than what was actually shown. Really it would. And then a bit later, a lot more white and gray matter (I'll abstain from more details on that topic at the moment).

"So what?" Somebody might reply. "Are you complaining it wasn't brutal ENOUGH?" No. That wasn't my intent at all. But at least in my mind, strict medical realism would have provided some kind of cover, some kind of excuse to get so messy.

What is the point in showing gore and blood which isn't actually real? To just be disgusting? Just to horrify the audience or provoke an emotional reaction from them? I mean, isn't that what slasher horror films are famous for, whether they are realistic or not?

Or perhaps the show's producers would have gone further into realism but censors would not let them...I don't know about that.

I do know I was a fan of this show since season 1. At times things about it concerned me...such as the fact that the most morally upright characters were killed off, on multiple occasions--with surprising regularity, actually. But I did not let myself be too bothered by that particular detail.

The show had the virtue, in my view, of showing that evil really IS evil. It did not pretend that people are basically good, though killing off good characters may imply that evil behavior is a functional necessity in hard times--which is not something I would agree with. And at times the show has gotten close to saying people are essentially good, (only forced to be bad by circumstances), with at least one character (Carol) losing the ability to kill for no particular reason. Yes, I find it more compelling to show that a human who walks the path of extreme brutality will never really be the same again. And that any repentance a person who has crossed that line may experience is an unusual event, not what humans normally do in the worst of circumstances. In fact, changing one's ways away from evil, a.k.a. repentance, is usually an experience linked to deep religious conviction in the real world. The character Carol does not show any profound convictions about the value of life that I observed in the story, religious or otherwise. She simply suddenly found it hard to continue killing. As if her innate human goodness suddenly came surging forward after a long time of doing wrong. Which is not something I find true to what human nature actually is.

Carol's change of character and a few other events lead me to a more honest evaluation of how TWD represents morality. Which would be to say the show has muddied the waters between good and evil at least a bit. Termnians were evil but something had to happen to make them that way, something awful, something beyond the need to survive and a world in which rules of good behavior are no longer enforced (which are more than enough for the worst of human nature to surge forward in my view). Gay characters have been shown exclusively in a positive light, as if being gay is a guarantee of innate inner goodness and invulnerability to temptations to do evil, which it isn't. While religion (of any kind) has only informed the lives of far fewer characters than you'd expect in the setting, the US South, i.e. THE BIBLE BELT. And not in all cases when it has been portrayed has it been shown to be good--which isn't unrealistic, but in fact gay people are portrayed better on the show than religious people. And last I checked we are all human and capable of abandoning the behavior civilization works hard to put into each one of us.

By the way, wouldn't a realistic portrayal of a zombie apocalypse in Georgia show a lot of people suddenly developing a deep interest in their Christian roots? A lot of people praying? Which would have nothing to do with promoting faith in any way, it would simply be realistic for the area. Right? But that's not what TWD has done.

So I am afraid I need to abandon what I used to claim. That the show is realistically showing people as they actually act under very bad circumstances (note, I never claimed the zombies themselves were realistic).

No, it isn't doing that. The show is treating us to a carefully scripted view of what is right and wrong, one I don't think is actually correct. And there is more that's false in the story than its moral issues--to give just one example, have you ever noticed how the grunge of the zombie apocalypse manages to keep everyone's hair still looking good? I can't recall a single case of messed up "hat hair" in the show...not among the main characters anyway...even though they at times wear hats. Not that hair is vitally important--but it is just another way that TWD fails any careful test for realism.

What The Walking Dead has produced is in fact the equivalent of the 10 dollar Rolex for sale on a street somewhere. At first glance it looks good--in fact, looking good it what it delivers more than anything else. But its inner workings are defective. It isn't real. It's a fake, albeit one that acts as if it's something more than an imitation.

"OK, this show is a fantasy," someone will say. "We all knew this or should have. What's the big deal?"

To perhaps push my previous analogy a bit far, that to me is like saying, "Hey, if you see a Rolex for sale for 10 bucks, you should have known it was fake the whole time. Buy one if you like or not, but you have no right to complain about it."

Yeah. Sort of. Yes, I should have known better. But no, I don't have to continue to like a show I thought of as realistic in some aspects, but which has wandered away from the realism which mattered to me. I do have some grounds to complain.

And there's the issue with the series 7 opener that showed the designated bad guy as charming and charismatic. Sure, it is actually realistic to show a charismatic villain, because there have been plenty of those in world history. Perhaps I should be applauding the realism. But what I fear is true instead ("fear" is the right word instead of "believe" or "think," because I'm not 100% sure), is that this change is in no way driven by a sense of what is real. Instead, it came from the writers of the show hoping the charismatic leader would rivet viewers to the screen. As would the guessing over the brutal actions that leader would take prior to them happening and the flood of raw emotion for most viewers as the episode's on-screen splatter took place.

In other words, it isn't realism driving this new villain but a desire to bring in a larger audience. "Well, duh," will say the you-should-have-known-better people. True, it isn't shocking or shouldn't be that a show will do anything to bring in more viewers. It isn't surprising that previous gruesomeness in the show has not proven to be enough, that like spectators of gladiatorial matches in ancient Rome, the fans of TWD expect things to get worse, not on a continual basis mind you, but in fits and starts.

So that leaves me with a tough personal question--do I really want to consider myself a fan of that? Of a show that has only gotten more brutal over time and which shows no signs of stopping? 

I used to say that the increased brutality was for realism's sake--and that particular perceived realism was the main thing I LIKED about the show, actually. But it ISN'T for realism. It's for ratings...and it seems to be having the effect of rewarding the desire in people to see more and more violence. To seek out the novelty of something that is worse than the last time, creating a cycle of the series continually growing worse. Even though the show's portrayal of violence isn't altogether real, the way it is going I fear will wind up desensitizing its viewers to the genuine article, to real violence.

You know, I very much believe in freedom of individual choice in most matters. I also believe that moral choices matter--and the things we watch help shape who we really are deep inside. That as individuals, people ought to be vigilant about what they do and do not chose to watch. And I also believe that maybe I have had enough of The Walking Dead's escalating cycle of violence.

A reader of this post may not concur with anything I said in the paragraph above or with not enough to be in fundamental agreement with me. Fine. I don't dispute your right to an opinion of your own. By all means, make the right moral choice for yourself.

But as far as my choice goes, I believe it's time for me to stop watching The Walking Dead.


Sunday, September 25, 2016

Magic and Fantasy Fiction Part 3--How Literary Fantasy Promotes Paganism (at times)

(J.R.R. Tolkein's Silmarillion abounds not only with Fantasy magic, it also lists a full set of literary Pagan deities.)

My previous two posts on this topic first defined what magic actually is in the Bible (an appeal to spirits or spiritual powers as opposed to seeking God) and also looked at how two millennia of Christianity have affected how the world thinks about magic (primarily it has separated out magic and religion as different things--which was not originally the case in Paganism). I repeatedly refuted the idea that "magic," Biblically speaking, is primarily understood as a quid pro quo exchange, making it fundamentally different from prayer. No, for ancient Pagans, a prayer was a ritual and a spell was too--they were essentially different aspects of the same thing.

I also stated in my first post that I believe literary magic--magic in fantasy fiction, poses a real hazard for people but that hazard is not generally where Christians concerned about this topic believe it is. Now I'm going to explain that statement.

I'm going to delve into a small bit of history of fantasy as a literary genre before revealing my main point:

While fairy stories are ancient, those stories about magical creatures (creatures with special abilities inherent to themselves) 
were originally seen as belonging to little-known corners of the real world. In other words, the original fairy stories were actually believed to be true to at least some degree by the people who told them. (Yes, this is because of Pagan notions about the world and how it works.)

The Romantic literary period in the 1800s (which reacted against the rationalism of the Enlightenment of the century before it) stirred up a tremendous interest in the "epic" past and also in the fairy and ghost stories of Medieval times. Hans Christian Anderson reworked fairy stories into novels and George McDonald and William Morris were crafting new novels near the end of the 19th Century (and the beginning of the 20th) that made fresh stories out of ancient fairy tales and epic sagas. Diverse writers such as Lewis Carroll (Alice in Wonderland), L. Frank Baum (The Wonderful Wizard of Oz), and H.P. Lovecraft (Cthulhu Mythos) belong to this period near the turn of the 20th Century, all writing prior to J.R.R. Tolkien, as did many other authors.

But Tolkien can be fairly credited with creating epic fantasy and he also made the genre of fantasy turn mainstream. Fantasy as a genre after Tolkien was no longer seen as either stories for children or as a small niche for readers of the bizarre. Tolkien also remains the most widely read fantasy author to this day.

My Christian friends love to embrace the fact Tolkien was a Christian, that he wove Christian elements into his story--e.g. the resurrection of Gandalf is intended to parallel Christ's (though was never intended to be a one-for-one allegory), the return of Aragorn to Minas Tirith is supposed to parallel the Second Coming of Christ, and the seductive power of the ring itself comments on the sin nature. It reveals real human beings do not have the power to vanquish evil by an act of the will alone--and evil can never in fact be an instrument for good. And many more parallels.

However, in reality Tolkien was as much inspired by ancient mythology, i.e. Paganism, as he was Christianity. That may seem unduly harsh to my Christian friends who love Tolkien, but it is true--
he was a lover of ancient Germanic stories and sagas and included many, many Pagan elements in his tales. Please bear with me as I explain why he thought doing so was harmless. 

From my understanding, both C.S. Lews and Tolkien, as well as certain other deeply intellectual Christians of their time believed that the gods of the Pagan tradition actually pointed to the one God of the Bible. That these Pagan deities either personified or represented aspects of God's power, ignorantly worshiped. In 1944, Lewis said, “Theology, while saying that a special illumination has been vouchsafed to Christians and (earlier) to Jews, also says that there is some divine illumination vouchsafed to all men. The Divine light, we are told, ‘lighteneth every man.’ We should, therefore, expect to find in the imagination of great Pagan teachers and myth makers some glimpse of that theme which we believe to be the very plot of the whole cosmic story—the theme of incarnation, death, and rebirth.”

Tolkien thought much along the same lines. He saw no harm including magical items, spells, and realistic versions of fairy creatures in his story universe even though these story aspects were lifted from Pagan sources and not from the Bible. He also saw no harm in creating a set of fictional gods in the Silmarillion (which in reality was background notes to his Lord of the Rings and Hobbit stories, published after his death).

But in the thought of the time, Christianity had irrevocably replaced Paganism. For a Christian intellectual of the early 20th Century, there was no danger that Paganism would make a resurgence in the world. But that's exactly what it has done.

Aleister Crowley, whose lifespan occupies roughly the same turn-of-the-20th Century period as the birth of fantasy fiction as a modern genre of literature, looked back to ancient traditions not for Christian inspiration and not to write books of fiction. He sought to revive the ancient rituals and magic of the past, the worship of Pagan deities, especially the binary essence of male god and female goddess. His works have proven to be tremendously influential in our modern world. And the fruits of Crowley's work was already underway when Lewis made his statement in 1944.

Though in 1944 the efforts to revive Paganism was a niche movement. But it isn't really anymore. Neo-paganism has millions of adherents worldwide. The number grew enormously in the 20th Century and it still continues to grow (though, granted, the number of Pagans remains far less than the number of Christians--for now). The US military has accepted Wiccans (witches) as chaplains. There are far more people practicing revived Pagan traditions, including, no kidding, seeking the power of spirits other than God--far more than most people living in a Christian bubble would ever imagine.

Modern Pagans I have known personally LOVE Tolkien by the way. Not that they think magic in his world represents the way magic really works, but they are especially appreciative of his overall world view. I personally think that relates to the polytheism he crafted in the Silmarillion.

C.S. Lewis they aren't so thrilled about. Not only is Aslan rather too overtly like Jesus for their taste, Lewis presented the practice of magic in our world in a bad light in The Magician's Nephew. And Lewis, in spite of his open admiration for Pagan mythos, includes only one other god aside from Aslan in all his stories--Tash, the evil god, which is easily enough seen as a representation of Satan.

So here is my point. I'm not really concerned with fantasy fiction portraying magic. I don't believe Harry Potter will curse me or evil spirits dwell in any book of fantasy literature that mentions magic--even if such books contain pentagrams and other symbols of evil or magic (please refer to my previous posts if you haven't seen them as to why I don't worry about that). But I am concerned how fantasy literature promotes modern-day Paganism. 

I am concerned, especially, with the fact that such stories abound with multiple gods and goddesses, but other than C.S. Lewis and a few of my friends who write similar stories, the one God of the Bible does not appear. The fantasy genre is open to ANY Pagan god of any stripe or brand--but the God of the Bible isn't welcome.

It isn't magic or witchcraft in the literary sense that should concern a Christian all that much. Such magic is obviously fiction and in fact can operate much as science operates in a story setting. Literary magic does not necessarily have the connection it ALWAYS had in ancient times--that is of allegiance to spirits other than the one Creator God. 

Of course, calling up spirits in a realistic sense portrayed in a story should be more concerning. Though of course there is a difference between reading about something and doing it. I can read murder mysteries and enjoy them without ever wanting to commit murder myself. I could read a story that features a realistic description of an actual magical practice and never want to perform the ceremony myself.

The same could be said about the inclusion of multiple gods and goddesses. A Pagan god as an object of fiction may have no appeal to me, so I can read about him or her or it without any real danger. So a Christian could say for valid reasons.

But a Pagan god or a spiritual practice realistically described represents an actual potential danger. Just like a loaded gun in a closet does. I, as an educated gun user, can have and operate my firearms for my own benefit. But I would never hold the opinion that just anyone could handle my weapon without any instruction whatsoever. I would be especially concerned about exposing children to its power to kill without supervision.

Likewise, if a story contains a realistic description of the Occult and/or any reference to a Pagan deity of any kind, such a story is not necessarily harmful as in it's a portal for evil spirits to enter your body. But seek and you will find, said Christ, "knock and the door will be open unto you."

Those who seek the power of gods and goddess find not really what they imagined they'd find, but a real spiritual power nonetheless. That's how it worked with the magic the Bible condemned and that's how it still works today. Those who create in their imagination a system of deities or spirits and then actually seek them will find, not what they were looking for really, but a genuine spiritual power. An evil one.

So, yes, I get concerned that fantasy fiction mostly shuts out God in favor of polytheism. By continual exposure to just one point of view, that the gods of paganism are really around (even if only in fiction), that astronomically increases the chances that some reader out there will try to find these gods for real. Just as leaving loaded guns lying around vastly increases the chances someone will carelessly pull a trigger (though doesn't guarantee it).

Yes, I agree science fiction shutting out God in favor of an atheistic world view represents a genuine danger as well--a danger C.S. Lewis was very much concerned about, by the way. And I agree with him.

But the Bible makes it plain it is possible to veer off of correct action in more than one way--we should turn neither to the right nor the left. The peril of real worship of other gods is something the Bible never ignores, nor should modern Christians. And science fiction, unlike fantasy, rarely includes gods and goddesses that people actually worship. Though sometimes it does.

Especially in the modern version of epic sagas known as the superhero story, which could be classified as science fiction. Superhero stories include LITERAL gods, Thor, Loki, and Odin recently. There are people actually worshiping those gods today. Yes, there really are.

Did the Thor or Avengers movie cause such worship? No, of course not, not directly. But it doesn't hurt the gods any to get some free advertising, if you follow my reasoning. Note that I see no evidence at all that such references to false deities in fiction (as if diminishing them to mere fiction) actually reduces the number of people who worship them--in fact, on the contrary it seems likely a small number of people who will be introduced to Thor for the first time in Marvel fiction will wind up worshiping him some years down the road, once the seed of their curiosity about the Norse god grows.

Note that the DEVIL of the Bible is welcome in a superhero story, such as Ghost Rider. But God? No. Anybody but him. That's not good.

My reaction to this bias is part of why I as a Christian write fantasy at times. I want to include God in my writing--for me, I will never create a story universe in which there are no monotheists at all. For me, it is evident that creating such worlds of fiction with gods and goddesses other than the one true Creator (who is excluded or perhaps negatively portrayed) has a sinister purpose, though one mostly unintended by the human authors involved. That purpose (yes it is fair to attribute this plan to Satan) is to increase the chances someone will seek spirits other than God.

So it isn't the portrayal of magic in fictional literature that concerns me nearly as much as the portrayal of other gods and spirits. A clear reference to other deities or to seeking out spirits other than God's--that's what raises my suspicions and causes me to be aware a danger is present. 

And I don't want to be like J.R.R. Tolkien, who with the best of intentions wrote stories that the Neo-pagans adore even more than Christians do. Yes, Christians, feel free to reclaim Tolkien. Make the world aware of his Christian themes. But I think Tolkien went too far in his admiration for his Pagan sources--I think the point he definitely crossed the line was when he created his own pantheon of fictional deities. 

I will not do likewise. I will be aware that what I write could represent a potential danger. While I will not steer clear of literary magic in my stories, I will be very careful about how I portray spirits or gods other than Jehovah. I cannot absolutely control how readers will take my works, but some things clearly represent more potential danger than others. For me, the inclusion of God in stories is an important distinction, one I will not ignore.

"He who has ears to hear, let him hear."


Saturday, September 10, 2016

Magic and Fantasy Fiction Part 2--Christianity and Magic

(The FIRST title page above is a 1520 copy of the "Malleus Maleficarum," a manual on witchcraft originally published in 1487. The manual presumed all powers of ascribed to Witches were real and could only be explained as being a result of being in league with the Devil. NOTE the Catholic Church condemned this book as heresy not long after publication. It nonetheless remained popular and went through multiple editions. The SECOND title page is from the "Discovery of Witchraft," first published in 1584, which concluded witchcraft is almost entirely a result of charlatans or overactive imaginations and has almost no basis in reality.)

Christianity has had a strong cultural influence on how magic has been seen throughout the centuries. Before examining that influence in some detail, it's worth repeating a few pertinent details from my last post on this topic and fleshing them out by looking at magic as seen in the Hebrew Scriptures.

Magic in the real world (as opposed to fiction) mostly but not exclusively relied on a view of nature that believed spirits inhabited all parts of what we would consider the physical universe--a.k.a. animism. Magic originally consisted of actions performed to appease or control the spirits, which always had the option of rebelling against any attempt to direct them. Spirits seen to be more powerful would eventually be worshiped by a formal priesthood in polytheism, but before the composition of the Hebrew Bible, there was no systematic distinction made anywhere in the world between religion and magic. Biblical condemnations of magic in the Hebrew Bible should not be seen as essentially different than its condemnations of idolatry or worship of gods other than the one Creator.

Magic was also linked to the annual cycle of time, especially in the ancient Pagan solar calendars. So the spring equinox was seen as a special day demanding particular rituals, which were required to cause the fertility of the ground to progress during the year. Likewise the winter solstice, which has the longest night of the year, was seen as requiring special ceremonies to cause (or encourage) the sun to in effect come back from hibernation. And so on.

While ancient magic and religion saw spirits in everything, some spirits were believed to be stronger and more important than others. Some places were seen as important, too--as especially powerful or magical or even "holy" in the eyes of those who believed in them. Certain symbols were seen as having special powers as well. Many objects were thought of as what we would today describe as "magic" (which was really the same in non-Hebrew thinking of ancient times as "holy"), including rings and amulets and swords from what we would consider normal in literary fantasy. But many other things were also in that category--ancient idols especially were seen as representing not just a means to worship the gods, but as talismans of the power of the gods (if not in fact the actual gods themselves). In short, an idol was a magical device, an especially powerful one.

The Hebrew Bible does not spend a lot of time focusing on spirits or magic in its overall scheme. Magicians opposed Moses in Egypt, in a passage that highlighted the fact they did at least appear to have some power--but it was nothing compared to the power of God. Likewise with Daniel in Babylon, whose God-given power to interpret a dream (a very important form of divination at the time) easily exceeded anything the Pagan competition was able to perform. These passages do not develop any real systematic study or theology of how actual magic would work, but neither do they deny the existence of magic. Magical practices are simply forbidden and made to look feeble in contrast to Divinely-sanctioned contact with God.

Note the Israelite worship calendar given in the Torah does not directly oppose the idea that some times of the year are special, a deeply ingrained Pagan belief. But it gives an entirely different set of special days than the Pagans of the period had, with an entirely different rationale. The Hebrew calendar of worship is about remembering the acts of God in the PAST, instead of an attempt to get him to perform something in the future, which was the focus of the Pagan calendar. There are numerous other differences, too many to detail here, including the fact the main spring celebration, the Passover, was about death and deliverance in Hebrew tradition and not at all about the Pagan celebration of life and fertility that occurred at roughly the same time of year (and which involved rabbits and eggs)(note also the Hebrew calendar was lunar instead of solar, so it was different in nearly every way from the Pagan nations around it).

The ancient Israelite worship system does not bother to address the issue if among the vast array of locations in the world whether some places are actually in fact better for worship of spirits than others. It simply and repeatedly tells Israel that THEY are commanded to worship at one place, which is special in relation to all others, the temple in Jerusalem. And even that place is given several historical references as to why it is special, as a place where Abraham was ordered to take Isaac as a sacrifice and also where God appeared to King David. So there is very little sense in the Bible that even the Temple Mount is in any way a special place in the Pagan conception--a place where especially powerful magic (or worship) can be performed (see King Solomon's prayer in I Kings 8:27). Nor is any other place seen as special or "magical" in indisputable terms in the Hebrew text.

The closest thing to any physical object in the Bible having a special spirit or ability would be Moses' staff, which he could turn into a serpent whenever he wished (God commanded that the staff would have that ability, according to the Bible). And Aaron's rod, which budded after being a dead stick for who knows how long. The Ark of the Covenant, in spite of the Indiana Jones treatment of the subject, is not in fact treated as having any special power in the Bible. It is not credited with the victory of the Israelite army at Jericho, even though the Bible says the priests carried it before the army. The most that could be attributed to the ark is one particular guy died when he touched it as it nearly slipped off an ox cart (2 Samuel 6:7). But the Bible specifically says the LORD did that to the man, as opposed to ark itself.

The Hebrew Bible on multiple occasions takes a specific shot against the view that Pagans had concerning their idols--that they were repositories of living spirits. On the contrary, says the Bible, again and again, idols "have eyes, but do not see; mouths, but do not speak" (in Psalm 135:16 and elsewhere). In other words, the idols were just physical objects and had no spiritual reality backing them up at all.

The Christian Scriptures took this particular Hebrew view and modified it in the New Testament in particular ways. First, in the life of Jesus a large number of spirits are mentioned. These though are not seen as occupying every single thing in the visible world, but only human beings and only on one occasion animals (but only after what seems to be unusual circumstances, the evil spirits making a special request of Jesus). These evil spirits are described by the terms "demon" and "devil" and are described as falling under the command of a specific head, the Devil, or Satan (who is mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, but in rather disputable terms).

In human beings, these spirits, these demons, are accredited with being the cause of multiple illnesses, especially those along the lines of what we would call "insanity" today. However, only some of the people Jesus cured had demons cast out of them. MOST in fact are not so described. Indirectly, the Gospels thus support the idea that most illnesses have causes that are in no way connected to the spiritual world.

Also mentioned in the New Testament are angels. In the New Testament, as opposed to the Old (where they do in fact also appear on numerous occasions, but with little explanation) they are specified as "ministering spirits." In other words, they also occupy a realm of things ordinarily invisible to the human eye.

So the New Testament in effect allows a theology of magic to be made by stating that the power of magic IS in fact performed by spirits like the ancient Pagans believed. Spirits are around us, but invisible. But these spirits do not happen to live in every single object. They are at most only around some things and not every single thing. They can in fact, Biblically speaking, really only be expected to dwell in human beings and not in other living creatures or physical objects. The Bible text however does attribute to them as having at least some powers that extend outside their demon-possessed hosts. They are always evil, so magic, which comes from them, is also always evil from this reasonable Biblical interpretation, even though they can and at times will pretend to be good.

In this theological view, what we call "magic" is never attributable to God. Even if Divine power does things that appear to be the same as what magic would do (such as turning the Nile River bloody, which both God and the Egyptian priest-magicians could do in Exodus), God's power is described by one set of terminology, while "magic" refers to power designated as evil. 

And for most modern Christians, the power derived from the study of nature (also known as "science") would be described by yet another set of terminology, even though that particular division isn't Bible-based. In fact, many believers in God who were scientists have stated that the laws of physics are really manifestations of the will of God. Could we apply this same reasoning to apply what is called "magic" to being just another manifestation of the will of God?

As the Bible defines the term "magic," no. Please note I believe fiction writers are free to create alternate definitions of magic for the purpose of storytelling, but for my fellow Christians, what the Bible says about this topic is important. We may in fiction decide that people can fly if they can manage a happy little thought, but we also should know before we write fiction, what the facts are.

"A manifestation of the will of God" isn't what the Bible says about "magic" and related terms at all. Magic was linked to worship of other gods--that is why it is designated "evil." Let me assure all readers, lest you think
delving into Greek and Hebrew original words in Bible texts somehow changes this situation, it doesn't. The fundamental position of the Bible is that spiritual power derived from sources other than God deserves special terminology to set it apart from God's power--unlike the power of science (which actually does receive indirect mention in the Bible, believe it or not).

This legitimate (and sharp) Biblical dividing line forms part of the reason why some Christians are so dead set against even the term "magic" or related terms like "sorcery." For some people, if magic is ever used by any fictional characters at all, it is seen in light of the theological view I described above, i.e. that magic is always bad, period. But please note that literary magic taken as a whole has a great number of differences between it and the Christian theological view of magic I described above.

Literary magic, just to name a few of the most common differences, is full of creatures with special magical talents (like unicorns)--the Bible does not indicate that any living person has any more access to evil spirits than any other--not by nature (it may be true of people hypothetically, but the Bible at the very least doesn't 
directly comment on that possibility, which probably but not certainly indicates it isn't true). Nor does it show that ANY animal is in fact in league with evil spirits or otherwise "magical." 

Literary magic also tends to strongly fall in line with the view I mentioned in my last post, that magic power is simply that, power, and spells and potions and whatnot, instead of appeasing spirits, are involved in transfers of invisible powers mostly on a quid pro quo basis (this view was influenced in the West by certain Greek philosophical considerations, by the way). Literary magic is also filled with enchanted objects, things like special scrolls, rings, and swords.

The Bible's view does not give one shred of reason to believe that even though spirits are real, they attach themselves to physical objects. They only are interested in living human beings from what the Bible reveals and not any physical thing. There are therefore no real magical or holy symbols of any intrinsic value (the only value they have would be what people assign to them). No pentagram is condemned, Biblically speaking. Nor is the use of the sign of the cross commended. Nor is there any reason to believe a spell would always work--just like the ancient Pagans believed, a REAL spell is an appeal to a spirit which that spirit may or may not accept--not a quid pro quo exchange. 

Nor are there any holy (or unholy) places. All places in the world, with the possible exception of the temple mount in Jerusalem, are ALL just like any other place, spiritually speaking. Nor are there any special magical days--the Pagan high calendar would seem to be as much a product of human imagination as their notion that spirits lived in the idols made of wood, metal, and stone, which in fact could neither speak, hear, nor move. 

You may note how very modern my explanation of what the New Testament says about evil spirits seems to be. It is very close to the modern "scientific" or materialist view, which would say there are no spirits at all, anywhere. And that the entire corpus of Pagan and magical thought was entirely the product of human imagination. Modern scientific man would agree with me that there are no holy (or magic) symbols or holy (or magic) places or objects or any days with any special magical (or holy) value.

Note that in apparent harmony with a modern view, First Corinthians 8:4 specifically affirms that idols are "meaningless." However, the same Biblical author (Paul) in the same epistle later says that things offered to idols are offered to demons (I Corinthians 10:20). How can both things be true, a view that is essentially modern in asserting Pagan holy symbols are meaningless, yet still accepts the existence of evil spirits? 

Simply this, that idols were primarily physical objects cooked up by human imaginations (as were other false ideas, like animism itself). But that's not all they were.

The New Testament affirms that there ARE real spirits around, searching for an opportunity to get their metaphorical hooks into humans exercising their imaginations as they engaged in such activities as Pagan worship or the practice of magic (which were originally aspects of the same thing). Note the primary identifier of such worship or magic is that it involves turning away from God and seeking other "powers." It is NOT true that the most important thing about it is that the relationship involved is a quid pro quo exchange. Thinking that "quid pro quo" is the basic definition of magic would be to read too much literary magic into what real magic actually was (and is).

Note that early Christian teaching tended to see the powers of darkness as already defeated by Christ. Such powers as represented by witchcraft as a result were not something the early Church talked about very often, even though they condemned them on occasion. In addition, the real significance of some things we think of as Christian, such as the symbol of the cross as a holy object, or the idea there were holy places (almost like magic places, but CHRISTIAN brand...ahem), crept into Christian thought over time. The first major significance assigned to the sign of the cross that I know of was from the (future) Emperor Constantine, around 300 years after Jesus walked the earth (who was a Pagan at the time he saw it). The first holy places centered around places historically linked to Christ, also hundreds of years later--but they at times were also seen as having special powers in a way with obvious parallels to Pagan thought.

By the time of the Dark Ages in Europe, the Pagan view of magic had largely been overlaid over what I consider the Biblical theology of good and bad invisible spirits with no real connection to physical things. Some magic practitioners of the period and afterwards sought to find the direct help of the angels, who are always good in Biblical theology. Or to force the intervention of God through certain specific rituals or symbols. These are things the Bible itself never recommends--instead, Christians are told to seek God through prayer, which is directly asking the Divine Creator of all for something and which requires no ritual or special day or special symbol. 

Please note though, that these people who sought Divine or angelic power through ritual or symbol considered themselves to be working for God's glory. Even though to at least some degree, there is no question they in fact were borrowing concepts taken from Pagan practices. 

Borrowing Pagan practices and importing them into the worship of God I would agree could be called "white magic" (though that term is ALSO borrowed from Paganism--it does not exist in the Bible), because the influence of magical thinking really is there. However, strictly speaking, it is an error from the Biblical point of view to define any attempt to reach the one true God as "magic," even if it employs a method that parallels things found in magical spells. "Magic" by Biblical definition is seeking power outside of God. Seeking God wrongly is not advisable, not a positive good, can be very much like magic in its methods, and even can be dangerous in that it may court God's judgment. But it is not in the final analysis the same thing as the magic the Bible condemns.

So, is it correct to call certain Christian practices that call on God to perform certain acts in exchange for other acts "white magic"? No, not really. 

I would say there is more "white magic" in specific rituals and symbols which are supposedly Christian than in calling on God to act in a belief He will be required to respond as promised. Symbols and rituals have stronger parallels with Pagan magic, even though not even these are actually what the Bible condemns as "magic" if they are intended to reach God. 

Of course, what I said about God's promises is assuming what is pursued by the Christian has at least some basis in Scripture. Imagining God to have promised something not in Scripture at all is bad and dangerous, but it's closer to heresy than to magic. That's true even though I agree that God is no one's genie--He in fact decides how to answer and when and it is a theological error to think a believer can force God to do anything. Thinking so parallels magic in some ways--but nonetheless wouldn't be the same thing even if Pagans had believed they could force their gods to act (which they mostly did not believe).

So h
ow about an exorcism or spiritual cleansing? Are these things "white magic"? Is it wrong to attempt to do these things as a Christian? Is it acceptable to attempt to clear a room of evil spirits by commanding them to depart? 

The Biblical Epistles are the marching orders of Christian churches, as opposed to historical books like Acts and the Gospels, which tell us what happened without always expecting us to do the same. The Epistles give no clear commands to perform any exorcisms or cleansings, nor any instructions on how. So I would say that it probably isn't a good idea to attempt such an action, even if Jesus and the apostles did so. 

That Jesus walked on water does not mean I can do so, too--if I were to be called out on the water, like Peter was, then I can expect to succeed there. But the Bible does not have a general command to walk on water and it also does not have a general command for Christians to go out and perform exorcisms, not from what I see. Though there are Christians who disagree with me about that based on certain interpretations of the Gospels and Acts. Even though I know where they're coming from, I think they are mistaken.

HOWEVER, as much as I am not pro-exorcism, I would not agree, based on the New Testament that addressing a demon is in fact somehow praying to it. Jesus himself addressed demons and certainly did not ever pray to them. Claiming that addressing a demon is itself intrinsically a form of magic or a prayer to that demon is a false statement not based in any objective New Testament teaching--a false statement that might actually qualify as slander. Since again, Jesus and the apostles addressed them when they performed exorcisms and they were definitely not praying to them.

After the time of the apostles, in which miracles were apparently common and into the late Roman Empire, very little appears in church writings about events we could describe as miraculous. In this same period, neither was very much written about magic. But beginning in early Medieval times, magic began to be the subject of some legislation. Medieval law did not attempt to legally banish all of what I would label as "magical thinking," but did provide some legislation that forbade the use of spells to hurt someone. The emperor Charlemagne was especially insistent on laws against the damaging use of magic from what I've read. 

Note that once Christian armies (or at least armies who fought in the name of Christianity--baptizing someone does not "magically" mean his thinking is no longer Pagan) defeated in battle the armies of Pagans, like Charlemagne defeated the Saxons, the overt Pagan rituals were forbidden. The Pagan priests (such as Saxon priests) were no longer allowed to openly perform the public worship they had done in the past. Folk magic, not practiced by any formal priesthood, took over among people largely Pagan in their allegiance. Magic continued to uphold a number of ancient rituals and developed new, clandestine ones. This period is part of why our modern thought separates magic from religion so thoroughly. Formal religion was one thing at that time, formally approved by the governments of the period. "Magic" was performed by a different set of people under different circumstances, in private, quietly, a surviving remnant of Pagan thought.

But it's worth repeating that the two systems were not fundamentally different in the Pagan era--once upon a time, magic and religion were two aspects of the same thing. It was the entrance of Christendom upon the world stage that sharply separated them.

By the late Middle Ages thinking on magic in Christendom itself went through a radical transformation. The book Malleus Maleficarum (the witches' hammer, as in what would be used against them) in 1487 perhaps more symbolized that change than caused it, but it affirmed that certain people, mostly women, were in league with the Devil and acquired from him a number of supernatural powers (it also discussed how to find and prosecute such witches). These powers are never mentioned in the Bible, as are a number of other allegations in the book--for example, that witches slept with demons or turned people into animals.

This concept, that witches were dangerous traitors to the human race who yielded great power still influences a number of literary traditions about witches (think: Wicked Witch in Oz). Though of course most modern, Western people believe such a view of witchcraft is sheer fiction. 

And we should note it largely WAS fiction. While there are real modern witches who are practicing a revived attempt to worship ancient gods and goddesses and perform ancient rituals, they CAN'T really do the magic that Malleus Maleficarum claims they routinely do. And it's worth mentioning that the witches don't believe that they report directly to Satan or other demons as the Malleus reported (though as a Christian I believe they do, simply unknowingly).

This particular old view of witches has never entirely disappeared from the world. People remain at least vaguely aware of it and it inspires some of the terror that certain Christians, Evangelicals in particular, still feel today. However, based on what the Bible actually specifically says about it, a pentagram that the Malleus would see as powerful witches' symbol is in fact nothing, totally meaningless. But to someone convinced that witches really exist in the Malleus Maleficarum sense, even looking at a pentagram or going near it would be to court danger. The idea that the very mention of witchcraft or magic in literature could represent another potential hazard is bound up in this late Medieval concept of witches--that they were in league with the Devil and certain images and objects (and ideas) need to be scrupulously avoided, lest Satan use them to take possession of you. 

This Medieval concept included believing that certain books or symbols had magical evil power and certain places were favorite haunts of demons. But this idea, that there are special places or objects that have special meaning in the demonic world is ITSELF imported from Paganism. It isn't part of how the Bible portrays the spiritual world. 

Biblically speaking, caution about evil spiritual influences is justified. Terror about certain physical objects or places or even the existence of certain literary characters who practice magic is NOT.

Modern sources often credit the Enlightenment with ushering in the current Western scientific view that there are no spirits at all in the world. But the Protestant Reformation had a prior influence, which arose from the Bible texts being re-examined. Not so much in the earliest days of the Reformation, but a bit afterwards, a number of Protestant Christian thinkers began to affirm that the actions described as "witchcraft" were in fact a giant scam, like circus palm readers. Or the product of overactive imaginations. Note they were taking about witches in the 
Malleus Maleficarum sense.

They also eventually concluded that the persecution of such people is a waste of time and was fundamentally wrong. That spirits may exist, but special spiritual places, special dates, and special symbols or objects with magical or spiritual (demonic) power were in fact largely fake. (The earliest example I know of this thinking is captured in Scot's "Discovery of Witchcraft," for which I gave the title page above--note it was originally produced less than 100 years after Malleus Maleficarum).

Protestant thinking of the period, inspired by what the Bible actually says, definitely helped pave the way for the modern view that spiritual power is nothing at all to be concerned about. That it is total fiction.

However, please note that the Bible's condemnation of magic remains pertinent for a Christian who believes the Scriptures. And the New Testament's linkage of such powers to evil spirits remains valid for a Christian who believes the Bible. There is such a thing as magic which we can accurately describe as "real." It ISN'T all entirely made up or the product of charlatans, even if Malleus Malificarum is bogus. What it actually is always involves turning away from God to acquire spiritual (or magical) power, whether that definition lines up with a modern way of thinking or not. 

So, it's worth repeating one last time, a quid pro quo exchange is NOT the fundamental definition of magic, Biblically speaking. That's true even though systems of spells designed to appeal to the animistic spirits employed a lot of quid pro quo. Magic according to the Bible is linked to seeking supernatural power outside of God, whatever the means.

My sincere apologies about the length of this post, but I made it as short as I could. To wind it up by turning back to the original purpose of this series of posts: 

Are there any ACTUAL hazards from the magic seen in literary fantasy fiction? Or to rephrase that, what is the relationship between magical fiction and real magic, if any? Is it possible for books that portray magic to cause any real person actual harm? If so, how? 

These last points and others I will, God willing, cover in the next post in this series. Please stay tuned. :)