Muggles

Wherein I discuss the annoying things that happened to me at the Deathly Hallows Part 2 premiere.

I love Harry Potter. Can we just be clear on that. If we're clear on one thing, it's that I love Jesus. If it's two things it that I love my family, and if it's three things, it's that I love Harry Potter.

And while many people view my great appreciation for the Boy Who Lived as unhealthy, especially within church circles, I have this to say to you: I am not a witch. I do not in any way have any desire to practice wicca or the dark arts. I would argue that the magic in Harry Potter does not in anyway resemble the actual art of practicing actual witchcraft. Harry Potter has helped me understand life and love. It has helped me understand God as the author of love and the creator of imagination and stories. It's inspired me to learn, to create and to be brave. Long live Harry Potter.

So naturally, yesterday, at 10, after watching movies 5-7 1/2, dining on a Hogwarts feast and drinking butterbeer with people who might be equally as enthralled as I am, I made the fateful journey to the Rave in Milford for the final installment of in the epic tale of Harry Potter.

I just got chills.

Timeturner in toe, I found an awesome seat, sat down and prepared myself for what I thought would be the destruction of the 8th horcurx of my childhood. That however is a different story for another post.

As I sat in my seat, it was hard not to feel the excitement. It was pure energy as the excited fans, many of them feeling as I did, ran around the theater in costume, talking to people that they've never met and instantly forming a bond over this story that we all so dearly love. That's one of the things that makes Harry Potter great; it's fans. The fandom of Harry Potter truly is a wonderful one to be apart of. People are open and inquisitive and fun and frankly, have some of the biggest hearts I've ever encountered. Concerning myself, personally, my deepest and most meaningful friendship grew its strongest in the heat of anticipation for the 7th book. I love the Harry Potter fandom, almost as much as I love Harry Potter.

That is why I was so ticked last night.

If you have not read the series, you cannot be apart of the fandom. You do not count. Just because you like Harry Potter, does not make you a true fan. Because, lets face it: everyone likes Harry Potter. If you don't like Harry Potter, I might assume that you've created a horcrux and are incapable of feeling human emotion like you once were, because that's the only way you could not be touched by that story.

Please, I beg of you, take that in the most light tone possible. I joke. I know you still have your soul. But I'm still concerned for you.

But just because you've watched the movies does not mean that you are a part of this fandom. And don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that if you haven't read the books, that there's something fundamentally wrong with you. If you like the movies, but haven't read the books, I understand. Just don't pretend to be something that you're not.

Because you're a muggle. And you should not be at the midnight showing of the LAST MOVIE IN THE FRANCHISE annoying those of us who are weeping bitterly beside you as we watch beloved characters fall, watching bravery at its finest or hearing words straight off the beautiful pages being conveyed in profound ways that we could never have imagined.

If you are a non-reader going to the midnight showing of the movies, more power to you. A true Gryffindor. But there should be guide lines:
You can't dress up.

You can't ask stupid questions during the movie. Save those for your HP fan friends after the film.

You can't pretend to be something that you're not. Don't act like you like Harry Potter as much as the person who's dressed as Dobby sitting next to you. You do them a dishonor.

You do not get to laugh when Voldemort thinks he's defeated Harry.

If you sit behind me and say "What is the big deal with that snake? Is it like his pet or something?" you do not belong at the midnight premiere .

If when Harry pulls the Resurrection stone from the snitch you say "Oh, he's going to resurrect himself!" you do not belong at the midnight premiere .

If you announce loudly to everyone in the three row radius that you have never read the books, but are still dressed up as the Gray Lady, you do not belong at the midnight premiere!

My only question is, why are you here? I'm sure you're a lovely person and you obviously don't hate Harry Potter, which gives you points in my book, but wouldn't you rather be sleeping? Couldn't you wait like 12 hours to see it during the day when it's not so crowded and when there aren't hundreds of on-the-verge-of-Post-Potter-Depression fans ready to Sectum Sempra you if you text during the movie?

And might I remind you who Deathly Hallows is for anyway? Jo said it herself. "...and to you, if you have stuck with Harry util the very end." It's for the fans. The ones who love Harry as much as she does. It's one thing to never have read the books, but to have started them and not finish them? There was a girl there who admitted that she stopped reading the books during Order of the Phoenix. I get it, Harry is super annoying then. He's 15 and moody and awful to everyone who loves him, but the Ministry is slandering him every chance they get and pretty much everyone thinks that he's a narcissistic liar. Give him a break. You haven't stuck with him until the end. This is not for you.

I think the problem is that we don't have a good enough name for ourselves. I think that someone tried to start calling HP fans "muggles" but that's just stupid. I mean, that strikes no respect into anyones heart. I mean there are Trekkies, Ringers and Whovians and you don't question them at all. You don't see someone in full Spock gear at a Star Trek convention and go up to them thinking that you have the same amount of knowledge or love for the franchise. You just don't. Harry Potter fans don't demand that same kind of respect.

Eventually, aside from the fact that a few choice muggles talked/laughed at the wrong times, I got over it, because I was watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. And it was amazing. But that is, indeed, another topic entirely.

Crying in public

Hey there blog-y. Sorry I've been so neglectful. I promise I'll do better from now on.

That's what they all say.

But seriously, I'm going to start back up on this, like, incase anyone actually cares.

I am of the very strong opinion that crying is good. Really, think about it. You just feel better after you cry. It doesn't really fix anything, but for some reason the waterworks really seem to help any situation seem not as bad.

However, crying in public, is not acceptable. Ok, let me rephrase. Openly weeping in a non designated crying-is-allowed area is not acceptable.

What is a designated crying-is-allowed area, you ask? Allow me to explain.

The movie theater: it is perfectly ok to cry in a darkened room when Titanic is playing. Seriously, how can you not cry at the end of Titanic? It's a sad movie, OKAY? Acceptable crying movies include, but are not limited to:

Forest Gump: I dare you not to cry when Jenny dies.

The Notebook: Ok, I know some people hate this one, but seriously, how sweet is it that they die HOLING HANDS! Isn't that all any of us really wants? To find a cool person to hang out with until we drop dead?

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2: I will cry. And it will be acceptable.

Juno: It's super sweet and precious and crying is totally ok.

The Passion of the Christ: The whole thing is so brutal and bloody and its not close to what the actual cruelty of Roman crucifixion was like. And when I add to that He did all that for me just because he loves me and can't stand to be away from me. I'm gone. So basically from that moment when He falls and Marry sees him as a little boy and runs to Him on, I'm and endless river of salt and snot. Get over it.

At a wedding: it is perfectly acceptable to shed a tear when two people pledge to not only love each other, not only stay together forever, but to become one flesh and to create a new family. Oh wait, did I say "perfectly acceptable"? I meant, you probably don't have a soul if you don't.

When someone you know dies: Ok, self explanatory. I'm not a robot.

When you find out that you're going to see Josh Groban live in concert on July 15th: Oh yeah, that's just me. Sorry.

But other than these things, and other few exceptions, I find crying to be a mostly private activity. I usually try to hold it together in public. But I mostly fail at that.

Today at Crossroads Community Church in Cincinnati, the sermon was about the prodigal son. So naturally I wept. Openly, and loudly, and uncomfortably.

For my whole walk with God I've had no problem with a lot of the names and job descriptions He takes for himself. Lord/Master? I'm totally cool with that (in theory of course, I tend to really suck at that in actual execution a lot of the time.) Good Shepherd? Savior? Creator? Sustainer? Lover? All these things I can understand that. Those make sense to me, I can grasp those things, for the most part. Not perfectly of course, but on the whole I have no problem with those titles. But for all those titles, there is one that I do have trouble with.

Abba.

When I hear that God is my father, it can be hard for me to fully understand that. And I know I'm not alone in that.

I never understood why God chose to reveal himself to us in a name that holds such a negative connotation for so many people. For so many people their fathers were absent, or neglectful or even abusive. So when people here that God is their father, their mind immediately jumps to the man who yelled at and abused their mom. The guy who could never make it to their baseball games. The guy who couldn't bring himself to tell them that he's proud of them, or that he loves them.

But today in church I realized something. God is not a model of earthly fathers. Our earthly fathers are supposed to model themselves after the heavenly Father.

The image that God gives us of his fatherly love is pretty radical. It's an old, wealthy man, picking up his robes, dropping all his cultural dignity and sprinting to his rebellious son. Not just any son, though. A lot of times the cultural ramifications of the prodigal sons request is lost on us in 2011. But in Luke 15, when the son tells his father that he wants his share of the inheritance, he is in short telling his father that he wished he was dead. That the best that the sons life could get is if his father died.

And the father is running to this son. That's crazy love.

A son who not only asked his father to liquidate his estate to give him his money, but then used it to buy alcohol, drugs and prostitutes.

And the father is running this son. That's crazy love.

A son who, when famine struck and when his money was gone, worked with the pigs. Ancient Jewish culture 101. Pigs are unclean. You don't want to be unclean. Not that hard to work out what this made the son.

And the father is running to this son. That's crazy love.

This is the picture of God hit me in the most ridiculous way today. In a way where I wept uncontrollably in church. Golden.

It was because I think I finally understood God as father. A ridiculous, amazing father who loves His children more than anything.

So when I got the picture of Father God in my mind, I realized that I had the picture of the child of God wrong. We have the wrong view of God, and therefore we have the wrong view of our intended relationship with him. We're the rebellious, angst ridden teenager, instead of the child who looks up to Him for safety and comfort.

I was baby sitting a one year old recently (side note, Kirsten love babies) and at one point, her dad walked into the room, and in that moment I saw exactly why God reveals himself to us as a father. This little girls face lit up with the most uninhibited joy I've seen in a long time. She dropped her toys and began crawling to him with a ridiculous, determined fervor. When she got to him, she grabbed his leg and used it to support herself as she stood up. She loves him. She knows that no matter what, he will always love her. She doesn't know very much, but what she does know is that he is stable, and that if she grabs onto his leg, she'll be able to stand. In her head, he is all she needs to be safe and loved and secure. And a day will come when she looks at him and doesn't see him the same way. But for now, she sees him the way God wants us to see Him.

So yeah, I cried in public today. It wasn't a shining moment for me. But that's usually how God usually works with me.