7 Heavenly Virtues: Faith (Long)

[Peg Kerr]

No: HPFGUIDX 3468

With this post, I will be starting a new series to follow up on my
previous series, which analyzed each of the 7 Deadly Sins, in relation
to Harry's moral development/education.

Opening caveat: I love playing with theme, but I do not claim that the
themes I am finding here are what JK Rowling "meant."  We can argue
reader response theory vs. authorial intention another time.  (That's
not to say that I wouldn't be delighted, however, if she were lurking
here and emailed me out of the blue to say, "You've got it spot on,
girl!"  Are you out there listening, Jo?)  All I am attempting to do
here with this series is to think aloud about what I have discovered,
thematically, in these books.  In other words, I cheerfully admit that
this may be entirely a sugar-spun fantasy on my part.  But it's real to
me.  Anyway, don't say you weren't warned.

Through my posts on the 7 Deadly Sins, I've been using as a casual guide
the website www.deadlysins.com (mostly I'd just check it to find out,
let's see, what's the sin I'm supposed to profile next?)  It was this
website which first introduced me to the concept of the 7 Heavenly
Virtues.  The first is Faith, and the website refers to a cluster of
concepts connected to it: belief, trust, fidelity, loyalty, conviction.
See www.deadlysins.com/virtue.htm to read more about the 7 Heavenly
Virtues if you want more background.

So . . . what does Harry learn about faith in these books?

Let's start where we always start: by looking at the Dursleys.  (If
there's one thing that working on this series of posts has done, it has
raised my respect for Rowling's decision to use the Dursleys as a
starting point for each book, because of the flexibility that this
strategic decision accomplishes thematically.)

Just as the Dursley's provide a warning example to Harry about what
living in the thrall to each deadly sin is like, they provide an example
to him of what life is like if lived without each of the 7 Heavenly
virtues.

The fact is, Harry learned nothing about faith from the
Dursleys--except, perhaps, in a negative fashion, because he was forced
to live without it.  And it was a pretty miserable existence.  Harry has
no trust in the Dursleys.  He does not confide in them; in fact, all
efforts on his attempts to ask questions, to create connections upon
which to build trust, are firmly squelched.  (For example, the Dursleys
refuse to answer his questions about his scar; in fact, they lie about
it.)  Harry has several hints about his true nature (the incidents where
he unexpectedly escapes from Dudley, the haircut that grows back too
quickly, the strange people who seem to be keeping an eye on him), but
the Dursleys violently reject any hint of whatever-it-is that Harry is
sensing (and that something, of course, is magic, and Harry's true
history and inner nature).

Then, the letters from Hogwarts appear, and the Dursleys become
agitated, especially Vernon, as the mystery deepens.  Vernon's instinct
is to flee from the truth, forcing Harry to accompany him, but Hagrid
catches up with them, with an amazing story to tell.  Who should Harry
believe?  Cold hard facts, the bread and butter of the Dursley's world?
Or something more rich and strange?  Vernon argues against Harry's
specialness, even as he argues against magic--against faith--but his
arguments fail against Hagrid's magical signs (the spell on Dudley, the
magical progress of the boat across the lake, etc.)  Harry allows
himself to believe the magical story more and more as he accompanies
Hagrid to London to visit Gringotts and buy his supplies. At this point
in the story, however, he is simply a passive follower, merely absorbing
information.

The process of growing in faith is often metaphorically described as the
undertaking of a journey.  The turning point for Harry in terms of faith
takes place at the beginning of his journey to Hogwarts.  The Dursleys
take Harry to King's Cross Station, moving him through the mundane,
muggle world that they know.  But because they are both faithless and
lack faith, they abandon him.  They literally think--and tell him--that
he is going nowhere.

Now is the point that faith is needed.  Harry must be proactive, not
just reactive, in order to begin his journey.  In order to find out what
to do, he turns to a newly introduced character, Mrs. Weasley, to solve
his problem, and the encounter is thematically extremely important:

"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman.

"Hello, dear," she said.  "First time at Hogwarts?  Ron's new, too."

She pointed to the last and youngest of her sons.  He was tall, thin,
and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.:

"Yes," said Harry.  "The thing is -- the think is, I don't know how to
--"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded.

"Not to worry," she said, "All you have to do is walk straight at the
barrier between platforms nine and ten.  Don't stop and don't be scared
you'll crash into it, that's very important.  Best do it at a bit of a
run if you're nervous.  Go on, go now before Ron."

I think it is significant that Harry perceives Mrs. Weasley first as a
mother in this scene.  He lost his own mother at a very young age, a
very important blow to his moral development because an infant learns
the concept of  "trust," the first cornerstone of faith, in the course
of interacting with his or her own mother.  Mrs. Weasley will, over the
course of the series, become Harry's surrogate mother, and so it is
significant that she is the one to give him the instruction that
literally starts him on his faith journey.

The Dursleys, of course, would think this advice mad, but then, the
Dursleys have no faith.  Harry has seen magical signs, first with Hagrid
and now watching the Weasleys disappear, one by one, but now he is
required to act, to face that wall, even though it makes no rational
sense.  He trusts, follows Mrs. Weasley's advice--and steps through the
wall into the realm of things unseen, to find the Hogwarts Express,
waiting to take him into his new life.

Slowly, over the course of the series, Harry builds upon this new
understanding, that he can trust other people.   He is more wary of
adults, which is understandable, given his history with his aunt and
uncle.  Even when Dumbledore invites him to tell what's on his mind,
Harry prefers to keep things to himself.  Yet, although he keeps his
distance at first, Harry is coming to trust Dumbledore more and more.

He starts to understand loyalty, both in the interaction between the
four houses, but even more significantly in his growing friendship with
Ron and Hermione.  Harry probably experienced for the first time the
sensation of standing up for somebody other than himself when he stuck
up for Ron to Draco during the train ride in the first book.

And, with trust and loyalty, he begins to define his inner convictions.
He rejects Draco's overture of friendship, grounded as it is in an
implicit requirement to reject his budding friendship with Ron.  When
his friends warn him against taking action to prevent the theft of the
Philosopher's stone, he says, "If I get caught before I can get to the
Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort
to find me there, it's only dying a little bit later that I would have,
because I'm never going over to the Dark Side!  I'm going through that
trap door tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me.
Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

The seminal story arc dealing with faith in the series is the story of
the great betrayal of the James and Lily Potter by Peter Pettigrew, an
act which reverberates still, years later.  (Note that the protective
spell which the Potters were using was called the Fidelius spell.)  As
long as Sirius and Peter were faithful, the Potters would be safe.

This is the painful thing about faith: sometimes faith is not rewarded
as we expect it to be.  Peter betrayed James and Lily, and the
repercussions--for Harry, for Sirius, for the Muggles who died, for
Lupin, who lost three of his best friends all in one horror-filled
night--were terrible.

In the scene in the Shrieking Shack in PoA, Harry (and Ron and Hermione)
see Lupin and Sirius struggle with a profound question, specifically,
how do you pick yourself up and go on, rebuilding your faith when trust
has been cruelly betrayed?  Or even when you yourself have violated a
trust?  Both Sirius and Lupin suffered greatly because of Peter's break
of faith.  They each mourn James and Lily, whom they had loved.  As a
result of Peter's actions, Sirius lost his freedom, and Lupin lost his
friendship with Sirius.  They each probably suffered knowing that they
were not in a position to help Harry now that his parents were gone,
Sirius because he was wrongfully imprisoned, and Lupin because he was a
werewolf.  Sirius struggled with guilt, thinking he should have known
better than to trust Peter-- if only he had stuck to the original plan!
Lupin wrestles with the memory that he had betrayed Dumbledore's trust
by running loose at Hogwarts when he had transformed while a student at
Hogwarts, a memory which prevents him from telling the truth about how
Sirius is getting into Hogwarts again.

Once Lupin and Sirius finally face each other--and Peter--in the Shack,
they each must decide whether to trust again, to have faith again.
Lupin does, stepping forward to embrace Sirius like a brother,
reclaiming their old relationship of trust.  And then, together with
Harry, he convinces Sirius to believe, to trust, that he, too, can have
a true, faith-based life again--not a orgy of rage, despair and revenge,
ending with his murdering Peter, but a real one, rooted in his rightful
place in the magical world, where he can relinquish Peter to society's
justice, and concentrate instead on reclaiming his role as godfather,
providing a home for his spiritual son, Harry.

What Sirius and Lupin are doing in this scene is acting out the great
drama which has happened again and again throughout the history of
Voldemort rise.  "You don't know who [Voldemort's] supporters are
[Sirius tells Harry, Ron and Hermione, trying to help them understand],
you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can
control people so that they do terrible things without being able to
stop themselves.  You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your
friends.  Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances,
more torturing . . . the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't
know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the
Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying, too.  Terror everywhere . . .
panic . . . confusion . . . that's how it used to be."

Indeed--how can faith survive in times like these?

And conversely, how can one survive without it?

All this foreshadows the events of the fourth book.  In the GoF, like
his parents, Harry is betrayed to the enemy by someone he has trusted.
Something similar happened with Quirrell in the first book, but the
wound goes deeper this time--Harry has blood forcibly removed and knows
that it has been used to strengthen his worst enemy; he experiences the
Crucio curse; and he suffers the horror and the guilt of watching
Cedric's murder.

How will he recover enough to rebuild his life?  How will he ever learn
to trust again?

It will take time.  He tells his story, emptying himself of the horror
that he has experienced.  He gravely accepts the homage that he knows is
his, without conceit, just knowing that what he has experienced must be
acknowledged.  He allows himself to be embraced by Mrs. Weasley, and
then sleeps.  He spends his time with Ron and Hermione, quietly playing
chess, grounding himself in those rock-bottom trust relationships.

When the time is right, he gives his gold to Fred and George, asking
that it be spent on the joke shop.

Crazy?  Maybe.  But, well, that's what faith IS, isn't it?  Something
beyond common sense, something which can't be explained, only
experienced-- something the Dursleys will never fathom at all.

You simply have to embrace it.  Walk toward it.  Don't stop and don't be
scared, that's very important.  Best do it at a bit of a run if you're
nervous.  Go on.

Go now.

Comments, as always, are appreciated.

Peg