No wonder they burned us.

It's out.  It's launched, and legions of Potterphiles are signing up for the new Pottermore website, buying wands, being sorted, and investing a small portion of their lives in becoming imaginary wizards.  As of 12:30 this afternoon, I'm one of them.  I'm not super enthusiastic, but I do find it fun.  Apart from some beautiful illustrations, Pottermore also has backstories and tidbits that previously only the author was aware of. 

I love backstories in fantasy novels.  Frequently, if the author doesn't put them in, I'll make some up myself.  I love throwing Christians into fantasy worlds to see what happens.  Sometimes we get eaten, sometimes we become heroes, but more often than not, we end up stepping on someone's toes.  One would think that a Christian and a Jedi would get along pretty well, but when push comes to shove, I find they end up going their separate ways. 

I was dwelling on this fact again recently because I was reading a new Rick Riordan book.  I know.  I know.  I have an MA in literature.  I should be reading more sophisticated material.  But I had had a rough day of tutoring, and I really needed something a couple steps below my reading level to wind my mind down.  Plus, Riordan is entertaining, and he knows a lot more about Greek and Roman myth than I do, so I actually learn something when I read his books. 

So I called up his penultimate book, The Lost Hero, on my Kindle, and I'm flying through it, as always.  I pause to think about the attributes of the gods and the relationship  they have with the characters of the books, and I think, "No wonder they burned  us in Ancient Rome."  God really turns their world on its head.  Can you imagine the audacity of walking up of a person and saying, "Yeah, your father's pretty cool, but my God and adopted Brother walks on your father's water and doesn't ask permission. Oh, he also raises the dead, and calls up and calms storms . . . without asking permission.  Cause it's really all his."  That would be a mild bit upsetting. 

In fact, there isn't a god in the spectrum whose territory doesn't get invaded by Christianity.  (I should really have text references beside these, but it's late, and there are a lot of attributes.) 

Father of all men.

Rides on the storm and harnesses lightning (and yet isn't in the thunder). 

Prophecies.

Bestows wisdom and manages battle strategy.

Makes stuff (out of nothing) and makes mountains smoke.

Gives life.

Gives rules for home life.

Brings people to the loves of their lives.

Strikes people with madness and makes them sane again. 

Calls the sun over the horizon.

Establishes the boundaries of the tides.

Hangs the moon in the sky. 

Swallows prophets with great big fish and then has them spit out again to go do their jobs.  Somehow I can't see God going to Poseidon and saying, "Could you lend me a big fish?  One of my prophets is getting out of line."  It's just inconceivable.  God is God, or God is not God.  He either covers all the bases and calls all the shots, or he doesn't call any. 

Right about the time I flipped out and grabbed myself some Greek mythology, I got to the first chapters of Deuteronomy in  my serious reading.    Moses approaches the same thought from the exactly opposite direction.   God doesn't spare any room for idols or other gods.  He really is very jealous of his people.  No one else gets an in with the people he has chosen. "Burn it, kill it, destroy it, regard it as vile lest it ensnare you" is the line that Moses takes in Deuteronomy.  Don't mess with what you know isn't God  because sooner or later, you're going to have to choose.  Choose now.  God or gods.  They don't coexist. . . at all.   

So I thought about throwing a modern day teenage David or Joshua into a quest with a bunch of Riordan's demigods.  He'd have a prophet with him too and a strong woman like Abigail or Deborah.  The paths of both parties would coincide.  Their aims would likely be the same -- save the world.  They would both have the same helter-skelter ride that takes a lot of faith.  But ultimately the Biblical heroes would the calm certainty that comes from believing in God, who cannot be circumvented, defeated, surprised, or manipulated against his all-knowing will, while the demigods would have to trust more and more in themselves.

(But would idolatry be tempting today? I read a blog on that question this very morning.)