I think at the time I had to restrain myself from asking if she also banned her kids from hearing the story of the feeding on the 5000 in Sunday school, but it was hard not to think about her objection a few months later as I read The Goblet of Fire and its subplot about house elves. As it revealed, food does not magically appear on the tables at Hogwarts, it is prepared by hardworking elves who in the wizarding world are generally kept as slaves. House elves have been so trained to subservience that most of them believe their identity is derived from serving their wizard master. In the books, Hermione commits herself to working for rights and fair pay for house elves. Of course her efforts are ruthlessly mocked by not only her classmates at Hogwarts, but by many readers of the books who found the “rights for elves” subplot to be a silly distraction from the real story.

I know that back in 2000, thinking about the plight of the people who worked to provide me with food was not something I had ever done. Recently out of college, I was quickly learning the hard work required to make my own meals. But at the time the food I bought at the grocery store could have magically appeared on the shelves for all I knew. I might in saying grace thank God for the food and the hands that prepared it, but that never extended beyond the kitchen to those who grew the food or did the backbreaking work of picking the produce. My perspective has changed tremendously over the past 12 years, as I now do my best to be aware of where my food comes from and the conditions faced by the workers who grow it. Sadly, the plight of the poor, mostly immigrant workers who grow our food is uncomfortably similar to that of house elves in the Harry Potter universe. Also similar is the likelihood that one will be mocked if one dares to acknowledge those workers or advocate for their rights.

Thankfully recent films like Food, Inc. and Fast Food Nation have forced people to at least be aware that our food doesn’t magically appear in the grocery store and that the people who grow and process our food are generally treated poorly. But people don’t want to know about such things – because knowledge makes them feel like they may have to do something to change things. If animals are being abused in factory farms and the immigrants who work in those places are treated like animals, it makes it difficult to sit down to enjoy a feast much less mindlessly consume the cheap food such a system produces. So food companies are helping people return to states of ignorance through expensive propaganda campaigns that while acknowledging that our food comes from somewhere do so by presenting idyllic images of family farms without a poor worker or abused animal in sight. While the “happy cows come from California” was perhaps the most extreme example of this sort of misdirection in advertising, McDonald’s proud of our suppliers series is the most recent. If the McDonald’s ads are to be believed, their food comes from dreamlands that look deceiving similar to the average person’s idea of the pastoral landscape of heaven. I don’t doubt that these suppliers work for McDonald’s in some fashion, but Harry Potter seems to do a better job representing reality than these ads. Countless reports reveal the harsh conditions faced by those that grow food for fast food companies, reports that places like McDonalds are now trying to undermine with these ads. But in truth many people would rather believe the lie they’re selling than have to change their eating habits or take the unpopular path of advocating for worker’s rights. As The Meatrix shorts so brilliantly reveal, few people want to take the red pill and know the truth about where our food comes from.

As a bumper sticker on my car says, “the truth will set you free but first it will make you angry.” The McDonald’s ads are constructed to not only hide the truth, but to keep people from ever getting angry. Angry people change the world and the world doesn’t want to be changed. I agree with that mom at the Harry Potter debate, teaching our kids that food appears from some magic place (be that the grocery store or the idyllic family farm from the propaganda images) does them a disservice. Life isn’t convenient or easy despite what the fast food companies would like us to believe and problems don’t magically disappear just because we would rather not deal with them. So when we say grace we need to extend that thanks to all those who worked hard, often with barely any pay, to bring us that food. And, like Hermione, we need to advocate for and embody change – even when it’s unpopular or difficult. But whatever we do, we need to at least embrace the truth instead of being placated with lies.

What do I mean by Jesus as magic wand? It can be as simple as needing to surround ourselves with the idea of or name of Jesus as if it is a charm. It's the Christian radio stations that have quotas for how often the name of Jesus must be repeated in songs each hour. It is the churches that insist that the only proper Sunday service is endless repetitions of an alter call where the name of Jesus is to believed in. I've heard sermons that dig deep into scripture or help develop spiritually whole people derided because they didn't include the magic gospel formula. Or the responses to the recent Sparkhouse video about sparking new life in faith communities that criticized it because Jesus wasn't mentioned enough. Or when a book comes out on say social justice issues and it gets negative reviews because it doesn't include a gospel presentation as its main focus. I'm sorry that's like criticizing Calculus textbook for not including a full history of mathematics. Such things are assumed as given. (And btw, I did include a (brief) summary of the gospel message in Everyday Justice – so, critics, back off.)

But as amusing as quotas and shallow baby food sermons may be, where I find this fetishization of Jesus to be most dangerous is in the realm of personal faith. It's when people are told to "claim the name of Jesus" or to "believe in the healing power of Jesus" in order to deal with depression or marital problems or whatever. I'm all for mystery and the power of prayer and all that – but seriously what do those phrases even mean? By claiming the name of Jesus do I just expect him to work like a magical spell – I say his name with enough conviction and poof everythings better? If it doesn't work then I just must not be doing it right (i.e. I don't have enough faith or I'm living in sin). I get it that Jesus heals – I fully believe that. What I can't buy is that it happens by magic. Healing takes work – it hurts and it requires our effort. I'm reminded of that cliched sermon illustration of the people caught in a flood waiting to be rescued. Each time a boat or helicopter comes to get them, they turn them away saying God will take care of them. Of course they die and in heaven challenge God as to why he didn't care for them. He replies that he sent boats and a helicopter, why didn't they take them. People are so convinced that Jesus is so hyper-spiritual and other-wordly that we've forgotten that he has to work through the real world. That we are his servants, caring for others and for ourselves. Sure, he empowers and guides us, but not so that we can be lazy and expect fairy-godmother-like intervention. I hurt for those who have been sold that lie. Those they reject therapy or treatments or services because they are waiting of Jesus to suddenly deliver a better life.

Jesus is not a fetish. Jesus is not a magic wand. Following him takes work. His name shouldn't just be a charm or a mantra. We have to actually look at him and choose to do the dirty work of being like him. That means taking responsibility for our actions, for our hurt, and for the hurt in the world. We are following a guide not clicking our ruby-slippers together waiting to be whisked away. Jesus is real and powerful – we shouldn't cheapen him by reducing him to trite nonsense. Getting our panties in a bunch because his name isn't mentioned enough on the radio or a sermon or book doesn't list the magic formula to get to heaven is a waste of time. Praying for Jesus to save your marriage is pointless unless you take steps to make it happen. Asking Jesus to comfort the poor is mockery unless we are out there being his hands and feet.

So I'm sick and tired of people saying I don't care about Jesus because I don't treat him like a household idol to be invoked and ignored at whim. I want to actually follow Jesus – which takes a lot more work and looks vastly different than flicking my magical Jesus wand.