Recently I wrote about two of my favorite religious icons and how someone (unfortunately a member of my family) has had the gall to tell me that as I am not of the denomination that the two icons belong to, that I am being disrespectful towards them. I am grateful (and a tad smug) over the feedback from folks who were intelligent enough to understand that a person finds strength, inspiration, etc. through all manner of symbols.

With that thought in mind, I’d like to introduce you to another balm, an inspiration, the author behind an extraordinary series of books that show how Severus Snape can be used as an unusual guide on the path to god.

You heard right – Severus Snape. I know you might be tempted to laugh, but don’t. I’ve a very long and convoluted path that I have traveled on my quest to KNOW and to UNDERSTAND god. My faith has waxed and waned, and sometimes disappeared so thoroughly, I could only contemplate death because I hurt so much. I have learned that lessons, guidance, nudges can be found anywhere. So, for me, it makes perfect sense to discover that Severus Snape might have something to teach me beyond the Harry Potter books.

The conduit, I suppose that is a suitable term, is Logospilgrim, a self-described “Christian, a writer, a somewhat unusual lay monastic and a silly person”.

Recently I purchased one of her books, The flawed master – lessons Professor Snape taught me. Although I’ve been aware of her presence for several years, and I’d been curious about her books, there weren’t any that really called to me. When I learned that Logospilgrim was working on a new book, and I heard the title, I knew, deep down to my soul, this was the book I would purchase.

My book arrived today and it is, words aside, a beautiful, paperback book with glossy covers. The book is a buy and print product from Lulu.com. Having never bought a book from Lulu.com, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect as far as quality went. This book is as nice as anything I might find in a bookstore.

Now, to the content. No, I’m not finished reading it. This isn’t some piece of fiction that I’d read in a few days and would forget in a few weeks. It isn’t… fluff. I wanted to sit down, comfortably away from the computer, with the tv off, and no noise from dogs, mouthy cat, or noise-making chef/hubby. When I finally did get the silence I wanted, I read the first essay.

My review is a combination of emotion, memories, and letting my imagination get away with itself. Not my usual curt way of reviewing a book, but it is my intention to savor these essays.

The flawed master
by Logospilgrim

“Quiet, children, and listen. This is not a time of questions or of speaking behind the professor’s back. He has come here to teach you. Now, shush.”

You Are Here To Learn

I hear Professor Snape’s voice silkily voicing the title, but his rich tones are laced with more familiar cadences from my past. Teachers, yes, but more importantly, my parents, my brothers… my family.

This essay serves to remind me of all those times when I had so many questions in my head — whether about god, Christ, or why the sky was blue. I wanted to know and my thirst for knowledge seemed forever endless.

When I was very, very young, I babbled. All the time. The adults around me just thought it was childish gibberish and thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until one evening when dad brought home a reel-to-reel old-fashioned tape recorder that allowed one to speed up or slow down the recording. Dad kept shoving the microphone in my face, and I babbled. The adults chuckled at my cuteness. It was when my dad slowed down the tape that they discovered something remarkable — I wasn’t babbling. I was speaking full sentences that most children my age couldn’t attempt. And, I was telling the adults to “leave me alone!”

Back then, my babbling reflected the whirring within my brain. I imagine Hermione Granger’s quest for knowledge is quite similar.

What I learned, at my parents feet, was to be quiet, to listen. I didn’t need to ask and to interrupt because my parents had every intention of answering every question I had, asked or unasked.

My head has been filled with questions again and I was foolish to think that I would find all the answers in the very first paragraph of The flawed master. Who am I kidding? I was looking at the table of contents, and the copyright page somehow hoping that might provide an answer or two!

I found the Quiet Professor’s words in this essay calming. I skipped (tripped really) over some of the words, and I fell asleep, too. Don’t worry, all good books cause me to snooze now and then. I’m always tired.

What I had read, remained on the edge of my consciousness, and when I woke, I straightened my reading glasses, went back a few paragraphs, and found the Quiet Professor patiently waiting for me. Seated serenely in my chair, I finished the essay, listening instead of asking.

I find the essay, You Are Here To Learn, to be a kind of meditative preparation. A way to slow down my thoughts (for they have a tendency to never shut up). My breathing evens out, and I find that I am now open and accepting.

In my imagination, I drop a sprig of lavender and seeds of chamomile into my cauldron. The potion begins to bubble softly as the mixed aromas drift over my senses.

I’m listening, now… it’s time for the next lesson.

I’d like everyone to read this book or any of Logospilgrim’s other work. Look for her books and essays at Logospilgrim, and if you’d care to read some very good fan fiction, she writes that, too!