My most precious ones,

here is the transcript of the first essay I gave at Lumos, What is despised, God has chosen: Severus Snape as a divine instrument. There is no audio recording, but it was filmed; should I come across the video, I shall let you know...

I shall post the second essay momentarily.





It is a privilege to be speaking before you all today. Please allow me to begin by sharing a few quotes with you.

Distracted by a disturbing phone call, I left home to give a lecture to the inmates of Trenton State Penitentiary and began with the outrageous greeting, “Well, it’s nice to see so many of you here.” And so it goes. Frequently not on top, in control, or as the Irish say “in fine form.” This is part of our poverty as human beings.
~Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel

A good grape picker chooses to eat ripe grapes and does not pluck what is unripe. A charitable and sensible mind takes careful note of the virtues it observes in another, while the fool goes looking for faults and defects. It is of such a one that it was said, “They have searched out iniquity and died in the search” (Ps. 63:7). Do not condemn. Not even if your very eyes are seeing something, for they may be deceived.
~St. John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent

Be an instrument of gold or of steel, of platinum or of iron -big or small, delicate or rough. They’re all useful. Each serves its own purpose. Who would dare say that the carpenter’s saw is any less useful than the surgeon’s scalpel? Your duty is to be an instrument.
~Josemaría Escrivá, The Way

Show me your ways, O Lord,
teach me your paths;
guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
Remember, O Lord, your great mercy and love,
for they are from of old.
Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways;
according to your love remember me, for you are good, O Lord.
~Psalm 25:4-7

I have entitled this essay What is despised, God has chosen: Severus Snape as a divine instrument. My goal is to show that, broken and difficult as he is, the Potions Master is indeed a model of perseverance, hope and sanctification for all of us who have made mistakes in the past and who continue to struggle to overcome our limitations, often with less than impressive results.

For most of us, sanctification is not an instantaneous process. For most of us, immediate victory over our faults would nurture dangerous and harmful illusions; our infirmities would be worsened rather than healed. St Theophan the Recluse wrote, “The Lord sometimes leaves in us some defects of character in order that we should learn humility.” This could well be one of the reasons why Snape was assigned the Potions class, or why Remus Lupin was asked to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. These seemingly insane decisions were designed to refine the Potions Master as through fire... He is being pruned, branch by branch, and forced to expose his lacks.

Again and again, Dumbledore subjects Professor Snape to a variety of tests and requires him to endure situations that seem opposed to the younger man’s temperament and inclinations. We often see anger and resentment on the Potions Master’s face, but ultimately, the words that almost always come out of his mouth are “Yes, Headmaster.”

“Pull on the silver cracker, Severus! Come on, it’ll be fun!”

How easy it would have been for Snape to refuse. However, he chooses to please Dumbledore, even though he does so reluctantly. He was faithful in a very little... Further examples of Snape’s docile behaviour are forthcoming. First, I shall explore how Dumbledore responds to the Potions Master’s more usual reactions.

At the end of Prisoner of Azkaban, Sirius Black’s inexplicable escape sends Professor Snape into a paroxysm of rage. He roars, shrieks, howls, and ignores Madam Pomfrey’s shrill request that he control himself. Minister Fudge asks him to be reasonable, in vain. Finally, the Headmaster quietly says, “That will do, Severus. Think about what you are saying.” Could Harry and Hermione have been in two places at once? Snape has no answer, and storms out of the ward.

Fudge tells Dumbledore, “Fellow seems quite unbalanced. I’d watch out for him, if I were you, Dumbledore.” The Headmaster replies quietly, “Oh, he’s not unbalanced. He’s just suffered a severe disappointment.”

It is interesting to note that despite the violence of Snape’s outburst, Dumbledore does not agree with Fudge’s assessment of Snape’s mental health. His words are in fact rather compassionate. He does not judge his irate Potions Master; on the contrary, he is showing a great deal of sensitivity towards Snape’s obvious -and justifiable- confusion and bitterness. The depth of Snape’s anger when it comes to Sirius Black is indeed “beyond reason.” During the scene where Snape is attempting to capture Lupin and Black in the Shrieking Shack, we read that “there was a mad glint in Snape’s eye that Harry had never seen before.” Regardless of all this, Dumbledore understands the nature of Snape’s grievance and looks upon the weakness displayed by Snape with forbearance and mercy. The Potions Master could have killed Black but somehow refrained although he was so infuriated that “a few sparks shot out of the end of his wand.” Even in the midst of passion so intense he could barely think straight, a part of Snape retained control... A small shred of him remained loyal to the Light. The fact is that Severus Snape’s self-control is regularly stretched to the limit, and most of the time he demonstrates remarkable restraint.

I shall once again draw upon the wisdom of St Theophan the Recluse: “You will achieve nothing by your own efforts alone; yet God will not give you anything, unless you work with all your strength. That is an unbreakable law.”

How else is the Potions Master being perfected? Enter Harry Potter.

Harry and Snape certainly seem to bring out the worst in each other. I would like to argue that they also bring out the best in each other, teaching one another to master the unfortunate characteristics that mire them both in the past. This is not to say that learning these lessons has not been painful, halting, generally messy or completely voluntary. Snape has been, and will be, instrumental in bringing about Harry’s full coming of age. Harry, on the other hand, will deliver Snape from the legacy of his former allegiance to Voldemort.

We can see a moving instance of Snape’s emerging charity when he tells Minister Fudge, “They weren’t responsible for their actions” after Harry, Hermione and Ron prevented him from saving them from a werewolf who had forgotten to take his potion and a man whom Snape and everyone else perceived as a murderer.

In her brilliant article, Severus Snape, Ba’al Teshuvah, Rosally Saltsman writes, “(Snape) often has to collude with his personal enemies and even save them in his service of what is virtuous and decent. And like with many people, who have changed direction in life, the sincerity of his motives is always suspect. The ba'al teshuvah, the one who chooses to leave a secular way of life for a more religious one, contends with the same struggles as Snape: a non-conducive past, resistance from his friends and colleagues, doubts and aspersions cast by people who never experienced... (the) internal struggles that present themselves (to him) anew with each new conflict of interest. Contrary to popular belief, the ba'al teshuvah is not someone who suddenly sees the light, severs all ties with his past life and immediately attains a level of spirituality and conduct that renders them flawless and radiating holiness. The person who chooses the path of Torah sets out on a life journey with many obstacles and detours. The path is never smooth, not always clear and we often veer off it.”

Snape’s knowledge of potions is evidently phenomenal, but his ability to impart this knowledge is diminished by his impatience and the harshness of his approach to teaching. However, his frustration is not always unfounded. On one particular occasion, he tells Neville Longbottom, “Didn’t you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn’t I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?” A gentler manner might be more successful in Longbottom’s case. Unfortunately, the combination of Snape’s deficiencies, his concern that no student blow up the castle or cause fatal injury and of Neville’s nervousness and terrible grasp of the subject matter exacerbate their respective weaknesses. But after Dolores Umbrige berates Snape for failing to produce another vial of Veritaserum in Order of the Phoenix, he does something noteworthy; having briefly and with apparent indifference gazed upon the Gryffindors and Slytherins, the former attempting to free themselves from the grasp of latter, he advises Goyle to loosen his hold upon Neville’s neck.

St John of Kronstadt wrote, “Attend not to the actual words of an arrogant man, but rather to his meaning. It often happens that words which appear harsh at first do not in fact proceed from any harshness of heart, but only from habit. How would it be if everyone examined our words strictly and critically...?” He also wrote, “If you are angry with your brother on account of his sins, even supposing that they are particularly offensive, then recollect that you yourself are not without offensive sins, although they may be different ones. You desire that your shameful sins should be covered by the indulgence of others; recollect how thankful you would be to them, how you would embrace them for such enduring love... Then you must desire the same indulgence for your brother.”

The vile acts that Snape is accused of are often mirrored by his accusers themselves.

For instance, here is an excerpt from Prisoner of Azkaban: “It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once.” Ron Weasley, Rowling informs us, in fact does this twice a week; Ron Weasley, who lashes out at Snape for his lack of sensitivity with the most vehemence.

Snape is depicted as contemptible for having “goaded Sirius about staying in the house” and making him out to be a coward. Fred Weasley does exactly the same thing: deeply upset by Harry’s troubling vision of an attack perpetrated against Arthur Weasley, Fred bellows at Black, who had told them to stay put, “Easy for you to say, stuck here! I don’t see you risking your neck!” We read that the “little colour remaining in Sirius’s face drained from it.”

The Potions Master is an intransigeant, cold and abrasive man. Still, as Rosally Salstman points out, “he ultimately tries to do what's right, even if he doesn't always succeed in doing it the right way.” Snape shields his students from harm to the best of his ability. We can consider Ron and Fred’s words and choose to believe they were uttered with good intent, or under extenuating circumstances. Should this merciful attitude not be extended to Snape as well? At the end of Half-Blood Prince, Snape prevents the Death Eaters from torturing Harry, roaring “No!” when the boy is subjected to a Cruciatus Curse. In Goblet of Fire, Rowling tells us that Harry, on the other hand, “sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him... if only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse... he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching...” Surely Harry would not have been capable of such a gesture, at least not then, but his thoughts betray that he is himself guilty of feelings he readily attributes to the Potions Master: cruelty, malice, and vengefulness.

Again, I shall quote St John of Kronstadt: “When we hear anything bad of anyone, then, inwardly comparing him with ourselves, we say in our heart, ‘I am not like that; I am perfect compared to him’; and thinking thus of ourselves, and inwardly judging others, we are delighted that we are so much better than they.” St Paul’s words to the Romans are food for thought: “You are inexcusable, O man, whoever you are who judge, for in whatever you judge another you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things.”

Could Snape be the dark reflection we refuse to acknowledge is ours? It seems that many of the characters that populate the Harry Potter books fail to see all the ways in which they are just as callous, just as bitter, just as impatient, just as angry, just as cynical, just as tactless... just as human as Professor Snape.

“As we do not judge ourselves severely, we must not judge others severely,” St John of Kronstadt counselled. “When your brother sins against you in any way, do not be angry with him, but seek to find in him those good qualities which undoubtedly exist in every man, and dwell lovingly on them, despising his offences against you as dross not worth attention, as an illusion of the Devil.”

We know that Snape has a very high opinion of himself. When Dean Thomas tells him that Remus Lupin is “the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher” they have ever had, Snape replies, “You are easily satisfied.” As he examines Lupin’s work, we hear him muttering, “Very poorly explained... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn’t have given it three.” Somehow I would not be surprised to find out he was once called a know-it-all... Though it must be said that Professor Snape was wrong about the Kappa. According to Fantastic beasts and where to find them, the Kappa is found in Japan.

We also know that he was ready to reveal one of his greatest mistakes in front of numerous witnesses, some of whom he was quite aware despised him and viewed him as duplicitous and untrustworthy, for the sake of good. After Fudge repeatedly denied the mere possibility that Voldemort might have returned, Snape “strode past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm, and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.” Snape tells him, “There. There. The Dark Mark.” He makes certain that the Minister does not wonder if his eyes are deceiving him; Snape indeed stresses that although the Mark has faded, “You can still see it.” We read that Fudge “stepped back from Snape,” that he “stared, apparently repelled, by the ugly mark on Snape’s arm.”

It is as though the Potions Master were suddenly impure.

Snape has a disarmingly unguarded moment in front of Harry before their first Occlumency lesson. He berates Harry for using Voldemort’s name; after a few seconds of silence, Harry quietly says, “Professor Dumbledore says his name.” Snape mutters in reply, “Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard. While he may feel secure enough to use the name... the rest of us...” And then he “rubbed his left forearm, apparently unconsciously.” The same can be said of Harry in the scene that follows his foray into Snape’s memories. The Potions Master is beside himself with fury and bellows at him, “You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!” Harry answers, “No, of course I won’t-” Of course, I won’t. His response is quite empathetic... He suddenly appreciates that he and Snape are not so different after all. He had known “exactly how Snape had felt.” During the first Occlumency lesson, Snape, who also caught a glimpse of some of Harry’s humililating and painful memories, replies to Harry’s question, “Did you see everything I saw?” with a dismissive, “Flashes of it.” He adds, “To whom did the dog belong?” as if he too had empathized with Harry, and then says, “Well, for a first attempt, that was not as poor as it might have been.” His words to Harry are almost apologetic: “You let me get in too far.”

I would like to mention another interesting scene to you, this one taking place between Snape and McGonagall. When she arrives at Hogwarts at the end of Order of the Phoenix, he is clearly glad to see her: he strides forward to greet her. “Professor McGonagall!” he exclaims. “Out of St Mungo’s, I see!” She tells him that “Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?” and his reaction is endearingly conciliatory... I would even say humble: “What? Oh - well - I suppose...”

McGonagall, in fact, frequently behaves in ways that remind one of Snape, though she is definitely less acerbic. Note how similar her words are to his in the following example. Snape had told Harry, “Control your anger! Discipline your mind!” She practically echoes him as she chastizes the boy for his reckless lack of wisdom and advises him to “tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge”: “Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It’s about keeping your head down and your temper under control!” She then stands up, “nostrils wide and mouth very thin.”

Please indulge me a moment longer. In Prisoner of Azkaban, a rather amusing scene further emphasizes Snape and McGonagall’s similitudes. Professor Trelawney fearfully joins the other teachers at the Head Table, warning them that their number will be increased to thirteen; “Nothing could be more unlucky!” Dumbledore seats her right between Snape and McGonagall; Minerva, irritated by Trelawney’s histrionics, immediately offers her some tripe. Trelawney inquires about Lupin’s whereabouts and Dumbledore informs her that he is ill. I shall read to you the exchange that then occurred:

“But surely you already knew that, Sybill?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.
Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.
“Certainly I knew, Minerva,” she said quietly. “But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous.”
“That explains a great deal,” said Professor McGonagall tartly.
“If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal-gaze for him-”
“Imagine that,” said Professor McGonagall drily.

Personally, I like to imagine that Snape is surreptitiously biting the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing.

For he himself is not without a sense of humour. When he informs Dolores Umbridge that he does not have any Veritaserum left, he tells her, “Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient.” It is immediately evident that she in fact did use it all, and after she asks him to make more, his lip curls and he says, “Certainly. It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in a month.” One can sense the mischievous pleasure in his words. She shrieks at him, and Rowling gives us a glimpse of his surprised reaction: “Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised.”

The key to appreciating Professor Snape’s qualities, to unearth them carefully like fossils from mounds of dirt, depends upon our ability, as he put it, to “understand fine distinctions.”

Forgive me for quoting St John of Kronstadt yet again. “A man who is wrathful is a sick man; we must cure him by applying love to his heart.” I believe that Dumbledore, among others, has done this for Snape. At the end of Goblet of Fire, after Snape has disclosed his identity as a former Death Eater, the Headmaster sends him to fulfill a mysterious and apparently dangerous mission; the Potions Master goes pale and Dumbledore is described as watching Snape’s departure “with a trace of apprehension” on his face; Rowling tells us that “It was several minutes before he spoke again.” Another instance in which Dumbledore exhibits fear takes place during his duel with Voldemort at the end of Order of the Phoenix, when he yells at Harry, who is about to emerge from behind his hiding place, “Stay where you are, Harry!” Dumbledore’s only fear, it seems, is that those whom he loves will be harmed... Whenever possible, his desire is to prevent the suffering of his loved ones.

Dumbledore told Harry, “In the end... it was your heart that saved you.” He told Snape and Black, “You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us.” Dumbledore could have spoken these words to all mankind.

Love is our only hope.

Thomas Merton wrote, “To serve the God of Love one must be free, one must face the terrible responsibility of the decision to love in spite of all unworthiness whether in onself or in one’s neighbor.” He also wrote, “Hatred tries to cure disunion by annihilating those who are not united with us. It seeks peace by the elimination of everybody else but ourselves. But love, by its acceptance of the pain of reunion, begins to heal all wounds.”

Severus Snape does not look, act, or talk like the sort of person we would expect to be a saint. But saints rarely look, act, or talk the way we would like, that is, in the manner that reflects our own opinions, prejudices and delusional self-image. I shall quote Thomas Merton again here: “One of the first signs of a saint may well be the fact that other people may not know what to make of him... He has inescapable difficulties in applying all the abstract notions of ‘perfection’ to his own life. He cannot seem to make his life fit in with the books.”

Father John once told us during one of his sermons that, contrary to popular belief, saints are not perfect. “I would like someone to write a book entitled Saints behaving badly,” he said. He added that a saint is someone who excelled at his vocation...

What is Snape’s vocation? Could it be that it is to do what he does not want to do, to be where he does not want to be, to go where he does not want to go, and to obey, regardless? I would suggest that Snape’s sanctity resides in his steadfastness, in his dutifully standing firm to the end and in his self-denial: therein lies his love. It is not perfect, but it is still love.

Severus Snape shows us that every single one of us is a divine instrument. He confronts us with our own imperfections, teaches us to recognize the various forms that love takes, to have mercy upon the stumblings of our fellow human beings and compassion upon their efforts.

I shall end with wisdom from The Velveteen Rabbit.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when he and the Skin Horse were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”