What exactly does HP stand for? There are a number of possibilities: Horse Power, Hit Points, high pressure, Hewlett-Packard, high-powered, etc. However, today I want to talk about one not on any list of usual topics for discussion in this forum. Today I want to talk about my newest personal obsession -- and how I came to have it. Today I want to talk about Harry Potter.
      Obviously, this raises several questions: Why Harry Potter, of all things? What relevance does this have to us assembled here today?
      So how did I get obsessed with Harry Potter? I'm not much on most movies, as some here in town can attest. I never have been, and neither expect nor want to be anytime soon.
      Yet I do like an occasional well-selected movie. I've recently equipped a couple of my computers with DVD-ROM drives. This led me to discover computerized movie-watching. So one day a couple of months ago, I was at a store and encountered the first Harry Potter movie. (The second one came out November 15, which I await in DVD form with bated breath.) This was a name that had stuck in my head, something I had wanted to check out; so I bought it.
      Almost instantly I discovered how disastrous this particular stunt was for my "anti-movie" bias. That is, at least Harry Potter movies in particular. That movie got -- and has kept -- my attention. Now it's not so unusual to anyone except me that a movie should be absorbing. But in this case, I inhaled the picture, not the other way around! Since then, I have been absorbing the books -- all of them I've been able to find. The reasons for and meaning of that are my subject today.
      I need to gloss over such issues as boyish romances with magic and adventure: as a story it has these in abundance, and I am indeed highly susceptible to them. My real interest -- why I'm talking about this -- lies considerably deeper.
      Let's briefly look for meanings in Book 1 (there are four -- so far). It opens with 1-year-old Harry Potter being placed on the steps of the home of his staunchly conventional aunt and uncle, to their horror. Skipping ten years, we meet the Dursleys, their incredibly spoiled son Dudley (it's his eleventh birthday), and "just" Harry. It's also just a few days short of Harry's own eleventh birthday (July 31). He's never had a birthday party or Christmas presents -- a fact in stark contrast with the richness of Dudley's haul. They all hate Harry's guts and don't mince words about the fact, doing everything they can to make Harry's life miserable. We see a compelling portrait of the spoiled cousin, who is easy to hate, in juxtaposition with Harry, who looks like the nicest ordinary kid you could ever hope to meet.
      I said that Harry's arrival was "to their horror." Why this horror, all that hate? Harry doesn't know yet, and the Dursleys haven't raised a finger to enlighten him. Indeed, I suspect they themselves don't truly know, either. We saw him placed on the porch in the opening by two elderly professors whose actions make it obvious that they are magicians. But the family makes its feelings obvious that anything that isn't thoroughly "ordinary" is despicable. The fog thins as we begin to notice that weird things seem to happen by themselves in Harry's presence -- which becomes all the more amazing in that, far from doing anything consciously to cause them, Harry doesn't believe he is a wizard at all.
      This changes dramatically, on Harry's own 11th birthday, when Hogwarts -- a school of magic headed by those same two professors -- tries to contact Harry by "mail" concerning enrollment; failing that, it sends an emissary -- Hagrid -- who promptly (and to the Dursleys' skyrocketing horror) undeceives Harry about all sorts of facts of his past. After some confrontations between the Dursleys and this formidable person, Harry willingly accompanies him to the school.
      Harry soon finds that his own past is largely a matter of school history. It's intricately linked with "dark" ("obscure" and "evil," in varying mixtures) elements of other people's historical messes as well. Despite his ignorance, it soon becomes obvious how powerful (if at first untrained) a wizard Harry actually is. Essentially, the rest of the story (its main bulk) consists of how he clears some of these messes up (the rest are left for later installments) while gaining his somewhat unconventional education and, in the process, first finds fun, companionship, friendship, magic, and solid doses of "Reality." In and through all of this, like a golden thread in a rich fabric, he's continually demonstrating how utterly and steadfastly benevolent and sincere he is.
      So much for the story itself.

* * * * *

      So what precisely am I talking about here? Young Dan Radcliffe, who played the lead part so beautifully? The character Harry Potter? The story as a work by Joanne Kathleen Rowling? Well, yes and no. If I want to talk about actors, I might as well be talking about you [and you --] and me -- as physical persons. If I want to talk about a character, I might as well discuss us who live as those persons. Now, as to the story, on the other hand ...
      What metaphors this offers to help us understand our BEing!
      In reading the books and watching the movie, I have been very forcibly struck with numerous parallels between this story and our lives -- what we do -- here in Halcyon, in America, and the rest of this world -- at least. And, in my opinion far more importantly than even that, I find it a very telling commentary on what our world -- this plane -- actually is. First, let's look at magic.
      Harry Potter is a young boy. Like many others, his is a story of magic in many senses of the term. Indeed, there are many, me included, who would declare this story itself to be magical.
      What after all is magic, in the first place? We all know -- but do we truly? Magic is one of those terms that seems difficult to define because it has gotten all mucked up. It's one of those terms that seemingly appeals to everyone as interesting, if not necessarily pleasant. Therefore, I won't try to define it. I'd like instead to set a slightly more ambitious goal for myself: expressing the core element of its meaning. As we are a scientific religion and a religious science, right now I choose to express it in this way:
      Magic is the practical application of the realization of our true nature, including God at our own Center -- of a consciousness that gives us mastery of things both seen and unseen.
      Precisely because this isn't a definition, every word in it is critically important. "Our true nature" is Transcendency -- the noumenal, the world of BEing, that which cannot have form. "Things" are, of course, matters of form and manifestation -- the phenomenal, the world of DOing, that which must have form to be real.
      Several implications immediately arise:

      1. Magic is a two-way process -- a set of interactions between the inward and the outward. To be truly healthy, the entire inward must control the entire outward. Conversely, the entire outward must report back to the entire inward. This has been called by others a "clean window." The requirements for its achievement have been spelled out so clearly in other communications that I feel no need to remind us of them now.
      And just at this point, it seems important to point out that there are several types of magic. I strongly feel that the type of magic taught to Harry is quite real. However, with reference to our Master's de-emphasis of phenomena, I just as strongly feel that we are called to a higher type of magic: a kind not usually requiring the use of wands, potions, and spells and not seeking the vainglory of big, splashy performances -- a kind arising from inward harmony, also known as higher consciousness or BEing -- the kind practiced by great Avatars and Masters.
      This point is both subtle and important. What, after all, do we mean by the word "phenomena"? Remember, the entire physical plane is a grand magical act in the first place -- perhaps the ultimate phenomenon. Principles are, of course. I believe that Master, in de-emphasizing "phenomena," is pointing at those types of phenomena that, through unfamiliarity and unexpectedness, tend to catch more of our attention than they truly deserve by appealing to our built-in fascination with novelty. After all, when I light my pilotless stove to cook potatoes, phenomena happen: something snaps and a flame appears immediately. Whether this process is "magical" or not is but point of view. Today, such phenomena are familiar; 20,000 years ago, they probably would have been "magical."
      It boils down to whether we let the ends justify the means, or insist that the means justify the ends. Preoccupation with phenomena tends to encourage the former; through hard work we free and empower ourselves to the latter, which is the way of the Masters. Now, that is magic!

      2. We too can use magic. Harry shows us the advantage of having consciousness of that fact: without that, we can't manifest our magic or control it in any way. Without understanding, the shutters of the window are closed, which can turn unsupervised inward faculties into loose cannons. Only to the extent that the shutters are open and the window is clean can we actually do the work of a wizard. Harry shows us that lack of consciousness is no excuse: we're still wizards.

      3. Are we all wizards? Quite simply, yes -- because, as our noon service says, "all things are in us, and we in them." In other words, we are all God -- the ultimate wizard -- and there is, and can be, only one God. It follows that "Muggles" (the term for those who aren't awake to magic) are actually wizards-in-becoming too -- they're just the ones who are as yet too immature (in the grand scheme of things), or fearful, or whatever -- at any rate, their day will come too. Therefore ...

      4. Our wizardry is the whole point. It's the heart of our manifest lives. Aside from that, there neither is, nor can there ever be, any other. Being the wizard -- consummating our magical abilities (but not flaunting them) -- is our entire reason for being here. Of course, it's evident that ...

      5. Our motives are the heart of our wizardry. What we choose to do is the small part. How we choose it is the true heart of noumenon, or BEing. Do we aim at more -- or less -- consciousness? Here lies Love -- or lack thereof. It is truly as simple as that. Results are inevitable, per the Law; these are the "fruits by which ye shall know them." Beyond that, they don't count.
      Is this important? Think: except our cloak be pure white -- or black -- we cannot finish our project. Nay, all gray cloaks must get resolved one way or the other before quittin' time! Our path must be either toward the light or away from it, until we arrive at the one end or the other. Gray is like splitting your vote in half for one candidate, the rest for another -- and how useful is that? N.B.: This is not an issue of "good" versus "evil." It's an issue of balance vs. imbalance, of harmony vs. chaos.

      6. I regard the term "wizardry" as being a poignant, pithy synonym for "the Presence of the Avatar as a Living Power" [Avataric Mantram]. More specifically, in my own practice, I prefer to regard it as synonymous only when, and to the extent to which, the pure white cloak is aspired to -- i.e., when we choose harmony -- balance -- Unity -- the Light. If the cloak is black, other words apply. Indeed, that distinction is a major theme throughout all four published volumes.

      7. We are here to do work which we have forgotten. This is obvious because most of us are as Harry was at the outset -- so ignorant of our true nature that we cannot see it as manifest just now. Yet we can rearrange this statement so that, to me, it makes a lot more sense: We have forgotten our true nature so we can BE here at all, doing work which we couldn't do if we were still aware of it.

      8. The fact that magic can so easily be misapplied by adopting the philosophy "the ends justify the means" is also no excuse. The fact that fire can be used either to heat a home in winter or to burn witches does not mean that fire does not exist, or that we shouldn't use it. Likewise, our corruption of our motives through error but invites corrective instruction from the Universe. It cannot mean that magic itself doesn't exist, or that we shouldn't use it. Indeed, either stance is simply fear-driven immobilization -- remember, magic is all we actually have here in this plane of manifestation. At heart, magic is but technique. Obviously, we need to try to be mature enough to use a technique before we trust our very survival to it! A small child -- or even an adult pyromaniac -- shouldn't play with matches ...
      To my way of thinking, it is only in colloquial speech that the meaning of the word "magic" gets embellished to mean only unfamiliar techniques. Perhaps here lies much of the difficulty in defining the term: what is familiar to one is often mysterious to another, and vice-versa.

      9. "Familiarity breeds contempt." This is why our everyday techniques don't seem to be magical. Yet consider: What magic is it that makes us conscious enough to understand a thing? Consider the unexplained magic -- to this very day -- in such mundanities as: moving our muscles to wag our finger at someone; light a fire, even using "Muggles' matches"; make energy fields solid enough for other energy fields to walk on, and sticky enough that we don't fall down and go "boom!"; digest our food; keep our bodies working well enough that they require amazingly little, and simple, maintenance for decades on end, with rare exceptions, notwithstanding the complexity of the chemistry that both composes and regulates it; that our nervous systems are capable of talking -- at all -- and generating usable interpretations from the sounds thus created; indeed, that our bodies are "alive" at all -- dear me, the list goes on and on: all of these things, and many more, entail techniques that our material sciences are no closer to explaining than they ever were -- indeed, they're currently reporting that they're further than ever before from any genuine explanation. It seems that the main fruits of research are a doubling of the known unsolved questions every 2.6 years! I believe that this accounts for the hysterical morbid fear of even the accomplishments of genetics: fear of the unknown. We can correlate that doing this to that gene creates the other effect -- but we're really no closer to knowing why it happens.

      By contemporary cultural standards, I'm pointing at a dramatically different interpretation of every world religion with which I'm familiar, including our Temple teachings, than I've ever heard from another human mouth.
      Is it true? I firmly believe that it is. Consider the following few correspondences -- there are many more:

• Every Master of the White Lodge has told us, repeatedly and in many ways, that magic is illusion-mongering. Quite so! What, after all, is this physical plane (indeed, all of the planes of manifestation) other than a grand illusion? What, then, other than magic, can cause all of this manifestation to occur? All through our lessons and those of the inward and outward forms of all religions in the world, as well as records of deep philosophies and Masters, we are reminded of this great Truth.
• In our Avataric Mantram, we affirm that "I will endeavor to realize the Presence of the Avatar as a Living Power in my life." What's realization if not a state of consciousness -- i.e., of our readiness to work magic? What's my life, if not a grand laboratorium in my own consciousness? What's magic, if not a process of transmutation, of transcendence? Here are a couple of snippets from a lesson called "States of Consciousness" (TT1, pp. 5-6):

      Beyond all controversy there is but one Reality in every sense of the word, whether we name it The Absolute, Eternal Spirit, or God; all else is "illusion" from that higher standpoint, because all else is reflection or manifestation of some one or more attributes of God or The Absolute. ...
      There is not a cubit's width of void space in the Universe. The ocean of Aether ... is "the great Illusion" in which, while in manifestation, we "live and move and have our being."

• Let's take a moment to review all three of our Mantrams on page 2 of our little hymn book, looking at them as exhortations to magic, read them together as follows:

      Out of the darkness shineth the Light of the Glorified Triple Star into the hearts of humanity, raising the pulse of the Cosmic Heart and driving the shadows into the blackness of the Great Abyss.

      I will endeavor to realize the Presence of the Avatar as a living Power in my life.

      I believe that in me dwelleth every good and perfect Spirit. Believing this, I will show forth this day, by thought, word and deed, all that perfection that dwelleth in me.
      I am one with God and all Good. Evil hath no power over me.
      Though clouds and darkness seem to be about me, yet dwell I eternally in the Light.

      Do you see what I see in there?
      There are many, many other points to ponder -- for example, the Sorting Hat. Now, what's this all about? Why, it's another correspondence, of course!
      In Hogwarts, there are four "houses" that the kids live in. Each has its own name which, like most other names in the book, has significance as a word, cleverly worked in etymologically. For instance, Professor Dumbledore's first name is Albus, which is Latin for the "White One." (Interesting side note right here: An "albino" is a "little white one.") An appropriate name for the headmaster of any school of magic most of us would want in the world, no?
      Anyway, the Sorting Hat is an old, ugly wizard's hat -- enchanted, of course -- that is placed briefly on the head of each newly arriving ("First-Year") student as they walk into the Great Hall, as soon as they have arrived, for the Welcoming Feast. It's explained to them that one "house" out of the four will become their Home while in school. The Sorting Hat reads each student's mind and heart deeply and then shouts out the name of the house that shall so serve that student. Once again, etymology seems to figure heavily in the names of the houses, which are derived from the names of the founders of the school a millenium-plus earlier: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. What evocative names! Gryffindor -- the griffin -- part eagle, part lion. Hufflepuff -- workers tend to do a lot of huffing and puffing. Ravenclaw -- this one's a bit deeper, so I explored the Internet for symbolic clues: "Ravens and Crows represent magick, mystery, and sacred law as well as battle, and the mysteries of the Crone and Matron (warrior goddess). A gathering of ravens is called an `unkindness,' while a group of crows is a `murder.' They are highly intelligent birds, and have been known to follow armies for many miles." The "claw" portion seems to suggest tenacity. Slytherin, on the other hand, seems quite obvious: the evocation of a snake is hard to overlook.
      Thus prepared, let's review part of the poem the Sorting Hat recites on the occasion of Harry's sorting:

            You might belong in Gryffindor,
            Where dwell the brave at heart,
            Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
            Set Gryffindors apart;
            You might belong in Hufflepuff,
            Where they are just and loyal,
            Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
            And unafraid of toil;
            Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
            If you've a ready mind,
            Where those of wit and learning
            Will always find their kind;
            Or perhaps in Slytherin
            You'll make your real friends,
            Those cunning folk use any means
            To achieve their ends.

(from page 118)

      What struck me most strongly about this amazing feature of the story is its close correspondence with the four Planes of Manifestation, as well as to the related four "bodies" (or aspects) each of us has. I'd like to review those correspondences briefly, in order of the planes, as I see them:
            Hufflepuff: Physical plane (work, the theater of action, the center of manifestation)
            Slytherin: Lower astral (emotions, expediency, discomfort, fear)
            Ravenclaw: Upper astral (mind, consciousness, calculation, control)
            Gryffindor: Soul (heart, bravery, selflessness, inspiration, orientation)
      I'm out of time, and so must close with a brief consideration of the following question: Why, out of all the thousands of other approaches to this, is Harry Potter so overwhelmingly successful?
      I believe it's because it fills a deep inward need, unfilled for many. We need romance. We need mystery and adventure. We need fun, enjoyment, satisfaction, a nice clean mirror to look in. Harry Potter supplies all those things in unusually rich abundance. It reawakens the childlike in us. Even here in the Temple, dry mental understanding is not the way into our Sanctum.
      From how many newcomers' mouths have we heard what a romantic adventure it is to come to Halcyon? Just how closely do the Temple and Hogwarts (remember, the school which summoned Harry Potter) correspond?
      Uhhh -- we do have our work cut out for us, believe me. A young boy-wizard, Harry Potter, answered the clarion Call Home with his ALL. Can we do less? I know I can't.

      My Brother and Sister Wizards, I salute you! As Professor Dumbledore decreed right after the Sorting Hat ceremony: "Let the feast begin ..."

January 12, 2003
Blue Star Memorial Temple
Halcyon, California