Harry Potter and the Spirit of Right Judgment?

You shall not act dishonestly in rendering judgment.
Show neither partiality to the weak nor deference to the mighty,
but judge your fellow men justly. - Leviticus 19:15

Upon reviewing my blog, I noticed that I had only registered three posts for calendar year 2015.  I try to recall what made 2015 so full that I could not take time to write more than three entries.  I do not believe that I filled my calendar with feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the imprisoned, tending to the sick, or welcomed a stranger.  The reason I do not believe that these events filled my calendar is because I do not recall performing a single corporal work of mercy.  

After reviewing a few definitions, mercy is essentially a lesser punishment than what could be expected or justly dispensed.  Last night before Mass, I said a little prayer for my sister who has be gone for nearly five years.  I prayed that God's mercy might touch her and bring her into his house and give her a room prepared for her and that if God's mercy could be so generous, that I would be allowed to join her.  

In the Gospel today, Jesus tells of the final judgment.  The Church teaches that there are two judgments; the particular judgment which occurs at the moment of death and the final judgment which comes when Jesus comes in glory.  He outlines the criteria for entry into heaven.  The Church refers to these criteria as the corporal works of mercy.  

Today, I would like to offer a preliminary commentary on mercy inspired by today's readings.  I have two topics to discuss that are not too unrelated.  The first is the actual action of judging and the second is love.  During the season of Lent this year, the Holy Father, it seems to me, would like for us to consider judgment and love in addition to the statutory prayer, fasting and alms giving.  I gather this because this year he has made this the year of mercy.  

Many of my protestant friends and most of my secular friends are very fond of the scripture "judge not lest ye be judged."  Another pithy statement that I often hear is "only God can judge."  In the light of today's readings, I cannot possibly imagine that any Catholic, or any Christian for that matter, can shirk the responsibility when presented to them.  Judgment, it seems, can become a moral imperative and so we must be well formed.  It is thus one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit is the spirit of counsel.  Interestingly enough, counsel is often referred to as the spirit of right judgment.  

It is not often that I use fiction to make a point, but I would like to recall a very brief event from the novel Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.  At the end of the school year, when the headmaster was tallying points to award the House Cup, he awarded last minute points.  He awarded the final points to Gryffindor house's Neville Longbottom for courage for standing up to his friends.  Earlier in the film, the character rightly guessed that his friends were going to break house rules and cause trouble and he called them out on it.  While the circumstance did not end well for him and the plot advanced, the recollection of this event later in the book glorifies the actions of Neville.  The spirit of fortitude is often supplemented by right judgment.  The story would have ended the same without this little moral act.  However, had Harry or any other character said to Neville once confronted, "judge not lest ye be judged" or "only God can judge," and had Neville replied, "You know what? You're right," would have made Neville look like a fool and tarnished the honor of the mission.

This blog entry is not for a commentary on relativism but it is worth noting that I believe that sin exists and to each action there is a definitive right and wrong.  It is interesting that in the Harry Potter series that right and wrong are often not clear.  Neville is rewarded and recognized for making it clear that Harry and company were wrong.  While not proper in this context,  I must note for emphasis (and my nerdy love of Harry Potter) that the quest at the end of the first book was character defining for the three principle characters but it was completely unnecessary.  While not stated explicitly, Neville was right that they were going to break rules.  The kids were not punished for their violations, but they broke the rules all the same.  They wanted to prevent the primary villain from obtaining the philosopher's stone.  After the sordid ordeal ended, the reader learns that there was a small bit of information about the stone that would have prevented the villain's ability to retrieve it.  Thus the whole quest was entirely unnecessary as the risk was not actually present only perceived.  

Judgment is a necessary prerequisite in mercy.  As many definitions explain, mercy requires a judgment and then a lesser punishment than deserved.  One who cannot rightly judge cannot, by definition, be merciful.  Thus I pray to God that you and I may be given a spirit of right judgment.  Then perhaps in God's grace we may be among those described by Jesus:  "Blessed are the merciful; for they will be shown mercy."

The second commentary is on love.  Ordinarily, my commentary on love is repetitive and essentially the same thing over and over again.  I would like to share a story that happened just over three months ago.  The men's group I was a part of invited the Archbishop of Denver to speak to us on manhood.  During the preceding barbecue, some of us engaged his attendant, a seminarian, about his studies.  He noted that homiletics was by and far the most difficult class.  He recounted the extreme stress he felt when one day their professor decided to have each man give a one-minute homily.  I commented something to the effect that this seemed like the least stressful of tasks.  I noted that with only a minute it would seem in most circumstances to prudently default to the greatest commandment according to Jesus, "love as I loved you.." and place it in the gospel context.  If this is too daunting, then authentically convey love for the people.  If words fail, then do one's best to imitate Jesus.  The Archbishop and the seminarian both looked at me very discerningly.  I left Colorado for Alaska shortly thereafter, so I could not follow up.  

I suffer greatly from pride.  A priest-friend once told me that I should not speak about myself unless asked about myself as a small method to deal with the sin.  It is rather difficult to do so.  Intellectual vanity is a terrible struggle.  Look at me, I am so smart.  Look at me, I am so right.  Look at me.  Great care must be taken to ensure that the intent of my blog and the action of my blog proceed harmoniously in love.  The purpose of blogging may have begun in pride, but now it is to get my thoughts out there.  If I can evangelically reach that one lost sheep and be an instrument that Jesus uses to bring them back, then all praise to God.  

Love is an absolute prerequisite for mercy.  This brings us full circle.  The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that mercy is fruit of charity (love) in paragraph 1829.  In this reflection on mercy, it seems that I must wholeheartedly reconsider to what degree I exercise love and right judgment.  If the fruit of love is mercy, and I have do not perform any works of mercy, then it stands to reason that I have not loved at all.  Thus I would have failed in the most basic commandment to just love.  Pride is a terrible sin that keeps me from loving as I ought.  In order to right myself and to continue to hope in my prayer to be reunited with my beloved sister in heaven, I firmly renew my Lenten disciplines:  I give up Facebook to be more open to people; I take up the Chaplet of Divine Mercy to pray for God's mercy on us all; and I work on this pernicious sin of pride so that I may love authentically and wholly.  

May the Lord bring us all peace.