Most beloved,

here is the transcript of the second essay I gave at Lumos, Teaching obedience: Dumbledore as Starets to Snape. An audio recording is available; as I understand it, I apparently have a soft, "mesmerizing" voice (goodness), and it is my joy to delight you by putting this gift of mine, which I have done nothing to deserve, at your service... It will soon be possible to purchase the recording on the Lumos website.

I had no idea that I had a talent for speaking. Another one of God's surprises...

I hope that you will find both essays enjoyable, my dearest ones. I can assure you that it was a privilege to present them.

Your devoted
Logospilgrim, Professor S.





Please allow me to begin by apologizing for my audacity and lack of knowledge. I am not a Harry Potter authority by any means, but I have a few ideas which I hope will inspire you or at least intrigue you. That being said, thank you for honoring me with your presence.

I would now like to share three quotes with you.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften him. On the contrary, he felt even angrier that Dumbledore was showing signs of weakness. He had no business being weak when Harry wanted to rage and storm at him.
~Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
~1 Corinthians:1:25

You need to be very cautious in searching for the right guide, because deluded people love authority and will masquerade as guides. Part of the danger here is that your own psychological predisposition may be setting you up to fall into a kind of cult-like pseudo-obedience. True obedience to a guide and the pseudo-obedience you find in cults may look superficially very similar, but on the inside they are completely different. Cults are innately oppressive and evil, leading to forms of mind control and manipulation. Real obedience, however, leaves you free and with an inner feeling of peace and refreshment.
~Father Symeon Rodger, The 5 Pillars of Faith

What is a starets? The Russian word means “old man” or “elder.” A starets is a spiritual father, and more specifically, one who has acquired vast amounts of wisdom. He knows when to speak, he knows when to remain silent. An elder’s authority is manifested as humble love.

I would propose to you that Headmaster Dumbledore is a starets par excellence, and that the relationship between Dumbledore and Snape can be likened to that of a spiritual father and his disciple. Dumbledore teaches Snape to surrender his self-will and renders him capable of sacrifice, wherein absolution can be found. Indeed, I shall demonstrate that Dumbledore’s example and his love for his disciple are what anoint Snape’s forehead. I shall conclude my essay by showing that obedience, trust and love have transformed the Potions Master into a (not yet perfected) window illuminated by Dumbledore’s instruction.

Dumbledore possesses three key characteristics that identify him as a spiritual guide. The first is described by Bishop Kallistos Ware as “insight and discernment, the ability to perceive the secrets of another’s heart, to understand the hidden depths of which the other does not speak and is usually unaware.” To put it another way, the elder is an accomplished legilimens. However, the disciple actively participates by opening his heart to his spiritual father and granting him absolute trust. Bishop Ware continues, “The elder’s gift of insight is exercised primarily through the practice known as the ‘disclosure of thoughts.’ This disclosure of thoughts includes far more than a confession of sins, since the novice also speaks of those ideas and impulses which may seem innocent to him, but in which the spiritual father may discern secret dangers or significant signs.” Impulses such as a keen interest in teaching the Dark Arts, as was rumored of Snape ever since the very first book?

We also know that Snape confessed that he had disclosed part of the prophecy to Voldemort; Dumbledore tells Harry, “You have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realised how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy... I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life.” Of course, in chapter two of The Half-Blood Prince, Snape professed that his confession had been a convincing charade. Here we might ask ourselves how good a liar is the Potions Master. In the same chapter, Snape tells Bellatrix that he was “not at all inclined to murder Harry Potter the moment he set foot in the castle.” Not at all, Severus? Somehow, I think that Harry would be inclined to disagree... And let us not forget what else he told Bellatrix: “...many of the Dark Lord’s old followers thought Potter might be a standard around which we could all rally once more.” Even if Harry had been the grand poobah of evil, I doubt that Snape would have been willing to bow at his feet.

But I digress.

Getting back to Dumbledore, the second characteristic that identifies him as a spiritual elder is “the ability to love others and to make others’ sufferings their own” (Bishop Ware), in other words, compassion. Near the end of Goblet of Fire, Dumbledore, after humbling himself before Harry and revealing all the ways in which he failed to shield his young charge from pain, tells him “‘You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess... that I rather thought... you had enough responsibility to be going on with.’ Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard”. Even as the Headmaster is dying atop the Astronomy Tower, he attempts to reach out to Draco Malfoy, saying, “... let us discuss your options” . After Draco cries that he does not have any, Dumbledore says, “I appreciate the difficulty of your position” and adds, “I can help you...” Another unforgettable instance of Dumbledore’s compassion takes place in Prisoner of Azkaban, when a vulture hat pops out of the cracker he had handed to the Potions Master. As H.M. Ketcham insightfully points out in her wonderful essay, Good Snape, “Dumbledore lets Snape have a single, manageable, moment of challenge to his affronted dignity (and who else but Dumbledore would have dared to charm the vulture hat into the cracker in the first place?) and then takes the affront literally on his own head by swapping hats. A subtle little rescue, a moment's lesson-by-example of the way that true humility, with the power it confers of not taking oneself too seriously, defeats shame.”

The third trait that defines a starets is his “power to transform the human environment, both the material and non-material” (Bishop Ware), which would include the gift of healing. Generally, it is characterised by the ability to bring to pass spiritual transformation or repentance.

I believe it is now necessary to elaborate upon the word “repentance” before I discuss its relation to Professor Snape. In Orthodoxy, the term most commonly used is the Greek word metanoia. It means, “to turn around” or “to change one’s mind.” Thus to repent is not to wallow in guilt; rather it is to embrace a new way of living, to embark upon a different path, to return home. To repent is to allow oneself to be healed. Healing can be, and often is, a lengthy process.

There are some who wonder why anyone would bother debating whether Snape is redeemable, let alone good. How can we know if the Potions Master has truly repented of his past errors? Can we know? I have numerous replies, most of which are linked to Dumbledore’s wisdom and his influence upon Severus Snape. Ultimately, the answer is yes... and no.

We are all familiar with Professor Snape’s more unpleasant qualities, his occasional temper tantrums, his vindictiveness, his spitting. He is not particularly nice; or at least, he is not nice very often. However, goodness cannot be reduced to “niceness.” Goodness implies newness. C.S. Lewis explains it as follows in his book Mere Christianity: “... improvement is not redemption, though redemption always improves people even here and now and will, in the end, improve them to a degree we cannot yet imagine (...) It is not like teaching a horse to jump better and better but like turning a horse into a winged creature. Of course, once it has got its wings, it will soar over fences which could never have been jumped and thus beat the natural horse at its own game. But there may be a period, while the wings are just beginning to grow, when it cannot do so: and at that stage the lumps on the shoulders -no one could tell by looking at them that they are going to be wings- may even give it an awkward appearance.”

Obedience is the tool that Dumbledore was using to transform the Potions Master into just such a winged creature.

Before I delve more deeply into the spiritual bond that unites Dumbledore and Snape, please indulge me as I quote a passage from a favorite book of mine, Saintly Solutions to Life’s Common Problems by Father Joseph Esper: “... saints known for expressing anger include St. Basil the Great, whose hot-blooded temperament made it difficult for him to exercise tact in his dealings with others; St. Cyril of Alexandria, whose early years as a bishop were marked by quarreling, intolerance, and even violence; and the brilliant Church scholar and bishop St. Augustine, who was very unappreciative of opposition. A more contemporary example is the nineteenth-century French religious brother St. Benildus, who once remarked of his difficulties as a teacher, ‘I imagine that the angels themselves, if they came down as schoolmasters, would find it hard to control their anger.’ The saint admitted that it was only with the Virgin Mary’s help that he managed to keep from murdering some of his most ill-behaved students.” Another example of less than stellar behavior would include St. Jerome, who was well-known for his “prickly personality” and his letters which were often vitriolic and sarcastic. However Father Esper adds that the saint was “well aware of his weaknesses and performed great acts of penance (such as living in a cave) because of them.”

Was the cave to St. Jerome what the dungeons are to the Potions Master? In The 5 Pillars of Life, Father Symeon Rodger writes, “You can never become a real person as long as you live life according to your personal preferences.” I don’t think it can be said that Professor Snape lives according to his personal preferences. Something about his clothing also denotes an undeniable asceticism. Might not all those buttons be symbolic of an attempt at restraint, self-control, self-denial? In Prisoner of Azkaban, Snape confronts Harry, whose floating head had been seen by Draco in Hogsmeade. J.K. Rowling describes an interesting sight: “There was a look of suppressed triumph about (Snape).” He is trying not to gloat triumphantly. A few paragraphs later, Rowling compares Snape to a Hippogriff. “Snape’s eyes were boring into Harry’s. It was exactly like trying to stare out a Hippogriff.” When Hagrid taught his class about the creature, he said, “Now, firs’ thing yeh gotta know abou’ Hippogriffs is they’re proud. Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do.” Yet Harry has been able to insult Snape more than once, and lived to tell the tale...

Snape’s wings may well be hidden underneath his robes.

Dumbledore believed in his disciple’s metamorphosis: at Karkaroff’s trial, the Headmaster proclaimed, “Severus Snape is now no more a Death Eater than I am.”

But perhaps Dumbledore was not truly wise. His death, after all, appears to be a shameful defeat at the hands of those who were more powerful than him. However, if he was wrong to trust Snape, the extent of his gullibility , of his foolishness, would have been catastrophic. In Spinner’s End, Snape tells Narcissa, “Throughout all these years, Dumbledore has never stopped trusting Severus Snape, and therein lies my great value to the Dark Lord.” To trust a deceitful Snape would not have been a minor error on the Headmaster’s part. Bellatrix herself cannot believe that Dumbledore would be such a simpleton: “...we are supposed to believe Dumbledore has never suspected you? He has no idea of your true allegiance, he trusts you implicitly still?”

We know Dumbledore’s categorical answer: “I am sure. I trust Severus Snape completely.”

Snape definitely takes Dumbledore’s trust seriously. When confronted by Mad Eye Moody’s taunting words, “Dumbledore told me to keep an eye on you,” Snape reacts in a most uncharacteristic way: he clenches his teeth and answers, “Dumbledore happens to trust me. I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!” He becomes, in fact, rather emotional. “I refuse to believe.” During one of his Occlumency classes with Harry, Snape further betrays himself. He tells the boy, “You are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters.” After Harry hotly replies, “No -that’s your job, isn’t it?” there is a “a curious, almost satisfied expression on Snape’s face.” The Potions Master proclaims, “Yes, Potter. That is my job.” In other words, he is affirming, “I am more important to Dumbledore than you. I am more special to him than you.” He is, as it were, wearing his heart upon his sleeve. “Dumbledore trusts me.” Were he not so emotionally invested in his relationship with the Headmaster, it would hardly matter to him what Harry Potter or anyone wishes to believe.

There is one instance in which Snape did not have Dumbledore’s trust: Defence Against the Dark Arts. Dolores Umbridge is aware of this: “Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?” He replies jerkily, “I suggest you ask him.”

One can almost imagine a nervous tick surfacing at that moment.

The Headmaster believed the best of everyone, but he has discernment. Indeed, after Barty Crouch’s confession at the end of Goblet of Fire, he looks at Crouch “with disgust on his face.” He informs Harry, “The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew -and I followed.”

As Arthur Weasley points out in Half-Blood Prince, “It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore’s judgement.”

However, Dumbledore’s judgement does seem at times to be quite odd on the surface. The Daily Prophet quotes Lucius Malfoy as saying, “I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to a fair and objective evaluation. Many of us with our children’s best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore’s eccentric decisions.” Ron Weasley’s personal conclusion is not much better: “I’ve always thought Dumbledore was cracked to trust Snape.” As for Harry’s... he believed Dumbledore was “a foolish old man.” In the end, our sixteen year old hero’s opinion of the Headmaster is essentially that he was a sweet, but fatally naïve elderly wizard who probably suffered from a smidgen of senile dementia.

McGonagall describes Dumbledore’s reason for trusting Snape as “iron-clad.” So what is truly happening here?

Perhaps the Headmaster can answer for himself. He reprimands Harry earlier in the book and sharply says, “Yes, Harry, blessed as I am with extraordinary brainpower, I understood everything you told me. I think you might even consider the possibility that I understood more than you did. Again, I am glad that you have confided in me, but let me reassure you that you have not told me anything that causes me disquiet.”

Do we know why Dumbledore trusts Snape? The answer is no. What are we asked to do? To trust the Headmaster’s judgement despite all that appears to contradict our opinion of what is logical, just and true. Similar trust is also demanded of Snape, as in this scene from Prisoner of Azkaban:

“Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen,” Snape breathed. “You haven’t forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven’t forgotten that he once tried to kill me?”
“My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus,” said Dumbledore quietly.

The irony is that Snape and Harry are equally adamant in their demands for justice. And they have the exact information that Dumbledore needs to properly respond to their claims. Snape snarls, “And does my evidence count for nothing?” Harry fumes, “I had proof that Snape was (evil), too.” Here is wisdom from St. Isaac the Syrian: “Seek goodness, rather than justice.”

Everyone seems to be repeating, “How can Dumbledore be so oblivious to my concerns and pain? Why does he choose to ignore my wise counsel?”

I am thinking of Isaiah, chapter 55, verses 8 through 11:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return to it without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
it will not return to me empty,
but I will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”

Could it be that Dumbledore’s humility is what causes us to doubt the value of his wisdom? The Wizengamot threatens to take away his Order of Merlin, first class; Bill Weasley says that the Headmaster “doesn’t care what they do as long as they don’t take him off the Chocolate Frog Cards.”

Yet Dumbledore wants and asks for unconditional obedience.

In The Half-Blood Prince, Snape argued with the Headmaster but the latter was quite firm in his demands that Snape obey him and honor what had been agreed to -that Snape surrender his will.

Dumbledore is symbolic of faith, love and trust. To believe in him is an affirmation of faith, a declaration of love, and an admission of trust. Please forgive me for being so bold, but I would go as far as to say that to trust Dumbledore is an image of faith in God and His mysterious ways. Indeed, the disciple must obey his spiritual father as though the latter were Christ Himself.

Because of my own experience with wise spiritual fathers, I must confess that Dumbledore’s strange decisions and unusual speech do not faze me at all. Neither does Dumbledore’s willingness to ask to be forgiven for his errors cause me to doubt his wisdom.

Allow me to share a story about Papa John, who was a blessed teacher to me. It was related by a friend of mine, Matthew.

~God is beginning to be clearer to me because of Papa John.

On one occasion, a few days after a brief conversation with him in which he got a bit heated, he asked me to see him in the sacristy after Vespers. He prostrated himself before me and asked me to forgive him. “I must have hurt you terribly my child,” he said. I had no response. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to pick him up off the floor but I just stood there utterly humbled. When he got up I asked for a blessing and he hugged me.~

Dumbledore told Harry Potter, “You are protected by your ability to love... The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort’s.”

Snape has already chosen to embrace “weakness.” If he has resisted the lure of power like Voldemort’s, it can only mean that he does have the ability to love. That he was protected by his ability to love, though his very flesh has been tainted by sin.

Clues to his change in character glint like rays of sunlight piercing clouds throughout the Harry Potter books. For instance, when Narcissa breaks down before him in Spinner’s End, does he slap her and tell her to get a hold of herself? Bellatrix certainly would not have objected to it; on the contrary, it might have improved her dismal view of him. Instead, the Potions Master steers Narcissa to the sofa and gives her more wine. “That’s enough,” he tells her. “Drink this. Listen to me.”

The truth is that we rarely see the Potions Master at his best in the Harry Potter books. To appreciate the efforts he has made, we must look closely. If we cannot see them, perhaps we are, as Dumbledore told Voldemort in Half-Blood Prince, “looking in the wrong places.” Jesus Christ said, “By their fruits, you shall know them.” This was not, however, a directive to judge others; on the contrary, all of his teachings should lead us to question the number of fruits we ourselves possess, and be confronted by how paltry that amount is. It will compel us to be merciful towards others, and discern their beauty in the midst of scars, their victories in the midst of failures. We know that Snape has saved many lives, that he has healed, that he has protected, that he has obeyed, that he has striven to control himself and denied his impulses, that he has exposed his shame, that he has Dumbledore’s absolute trust; we can also see all the times when he yielded to his baser tendencies.

I can tell you, my dearest ones, that I yield to my own baser tendencies every single day.

What does Dumbledore know that we do not? Severus Snape became his Potions Master; Tom Riddle, who is very much a demonic presence in the books, was rejected; his “talents,” his “knowledge,” Dumbledore had no use for. “I am yours to command,” Voldemort told Dumbledore, who did not believe him.

Could the message of the story be that we do not know everything? Faith is the ability to trust in the midst of uncertainty. Can it be said that we know what love is if the other always gives us what we want, when we want it, how we want it? Love requires a measure of self-denial. It requires obedience.

Is this why it seems so odd to believe that Dumbledore trusts Snape, that Snape is truly his faithful disciple? It would imply that this imperfect man, this very imperfect man, Severus Snape, is capable of immense sacrifice. Perhaps we find it easier, less troublesome to affirm that in the end, it is best to look out for ourselves; that only a fool would choose the opposite, because no one can be trusted. The lure of Voldemort’s power is this: “I don’t need anyone.”

But “the wise in heart will receive commands” (Pr 10:8). “He who keeps instruction is in the way of life” (Pr 10:17).

Allow me to conclude by sharing a few passages from Oscar Wilde’s story The Happy Prince with you. The Happy Prince is a gilded statue overlooking a busy town.

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me for one night and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and his mother so sad.”
“I don’t think I like boys,” answered the swallow. “Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller’s sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come from a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect.”
But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little swallow was sorry. “It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one night and be your messenger.”
“Thank you, little swallow,” said the Prince.
So instead of beginning his journey to Egypt that night, the little swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s sword and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.

Later on, the Prince asks the swallow to pluck out one of his eyes, rare sapphires, and to give it to a poor young man. “They are all I have left,” he tells the sparrow.

“Dear Prince,” said the swallow, “I cannot do that;” and he began to weep.
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”
So the swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye and flew away to the student’s garret.

When the Prince asks the sparrow to pluck out his remaining eye, the sparrow replies,

“I will stay with you for one night longer, but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite
blind then.”
“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”
So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand.

Then the swallow came back to the Prince. “You are blind now,” he said, “so I will stay with you always.”
“No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you must go away to Egypt.”
“I will stay with you always,” said the swallow, and he slept at the Prince’s feet.

The Prince then asked the swallow to be his eyes. “I am covered with fine gold. You must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor.”

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The poor little swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well. But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just enough strength to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more. “Goodbye, dear Prince,” he murmured. And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips and fell dead at his feet.

Early the next morning the mayor was walking in the square below in company with the town councillors. As they passed the column, he looked up at the statue: “Dear me! How shabby the Happy Prince looks! The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no more. In fact, he is little more than a beggar!”

Dumbledore’s last words to Snape were, “Severus... please.” He might have added, “Do as I command.”