"Aunt Petunia's Jesus"

By: Princess Sassafras

Warning! : Discussion of religion. Spoilers. MY PERSONAL VIEWS—which no one is required to share. Harry wonders what kind of man could sacrifice himself for the world.

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Pale, blue-eyed, and anemic looking: frail. With white robes and a crimson sash, and a delicately wrought crown of thorns upon his blonde head. "He is the one who blesses us," Harry's Aunt Petunia would say, raising her hand to the ceiling as if an invisible King sat up there. "We should be thankful, always thankful—Harry, get up and give your seat to Dudley!"

Who is this pale man, and what is he? Harry wondered. And what does Aunt Petunia think he's given 'us'?

He got up and gave his seat, and the remote, to his cousin Dudley. Dudley didn't so much as grunt at him, settling his wide girth into the squashy armchair. Harry crossed the room silently and sat on the rickety wooden rocker by the window. "Harry, we're having company! Just…get upstairs!" Obediently, and not really unhappy about missing out on any of their "company," Harry rose and ascended the stairs.

The man in the framed picture stared expressionlessly at him all the way up—until he rounded the corner and couldn't see him anymore.

Whoever this man was, if Aunt Petunia lived by his book, he couldn't be good.

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Voldemort. Evil. Darkness. Sin.

What about Aunt Petunia's sin: disobeying her or Uncle Vernon, or using slang?

They have no idea what evil is. And the dislike I bear them is nothing to the hate I bear Voldemort.

Once when Harry was small he asked his Aunt Petunia—while she was rocking and reading her Bible, her spectacles perched imperiously at the end of her long nose—"Why did they die in that car crash, and I didn't?"

He was asking about his parents. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon told the lie: car crash. But it was the evil one who took them from Harry, and he could never forget that he lived when they didn't.

Aunt Petunia had no real answer, except maybe that he was so small he sailed through an open passenger window into some shrubbery.

No. That was wrong; he knew it now. The truth had been told to him—along with the rest—his first year at Hogwarts. Lily and James Potter were murdered, and he had survived. And the evil one—Voldemort—could not bear to touch him. Why? The only one to give him the real answer was Albus Dumbledore.

"Love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us gone, will give us some protection forever."

The person he trusted most next to Dumbledore was his father's friend and his past professor, Remus Lupin. "Who was Jesus? And why do so many people worship him?"

Remus smiled. "Because his was the ultimate sacrifice, Harry. He gave his life so that each person could be free from his own sin…from his own evil. Because man has within him the capacity for both good and evil. But man is no longer a slave to his own dark deeds. Jesus was and is the Son of God—God as man—and the sole purpose of his coming to earth was to save us. To die for us."

Harry didn't quite understand. "How could one person die for everyone?"

"I don't know, but he did. That's the mystery. They beat him—whipped him—and hung him by nails from two crossing planks of wood: the modern Christian's cross."

Harry was aghast. "That must have been…painful."

Remus nodded solemnly. "It was. And it was the ultimate humiliation. But it was worth it to God to see his people set free."

"My mother died for me." Harry said, and he could feel his chest expanding with more emotion than he'd yet felt, even more than when he thought his godfather had betrayed his parents to their death. But it was a different emotion.

"Yes," said Remus with a sad smile, "Lily died for you because she loved you. Christians call this selfless love 'Agape.' It is the love of Christ."

I would die for my friends, Ron and Hermione. I would die for you. I would die for Dumbledore, and Hagrid. I would die for anyone…I might even die for Draco.

"I'm not afraid of death," said Harry. "And, anyway, isn't it worth it? Dying for someone or something that's important to you?"

"Christ thought so. And so do I." Remus put a fatherly hand upon Harry's shoulder, and Harry could see the half-formed tears in the eyes of his father's childhood friend and his mentor. "I would have died for your father. I would have taken his and Lily's place…if I could. I would have been glad to save you the pain."

A sudden rage came upon Harry. "But why must there be death? Why is there evil—if Christ could die to save us, why not die to kill all the evil?"

"Because, Harry, what would be good if there were no evil? There would be nothing to fight for."

"But I can't help wishing for it—I hate it!"

"I know." Real tears gathered in Remus' haunted eyes to match the ones in Harry's flashing green ones. "I know it, Harry. And that same passion is what Christ felt for us. For YOU."

He died for… "He died for me?"

"Yes, Harry. Your mother's love—or the love of any one of us for another—is a mere echo of His love. The love of a friend, a lover, a parent, a child, or a comrade. The more we love the more we understand…the sacrifice is worth it."

Then that picture… "My Aunt Petunia has a picture of Jesus on the wall, but I don't like it."

"And why is that?" Remus smiles knowingly.

"Because…he seems so…empty. So frail."

"That is because, Harry, most people's idea of Jesus is that he was a very meek and mild man."

"Nobody mild could sacrifice himself…could die in such a way! He must have been…"

"Jesus was God incarnate, and so he had God's heart. And I am a firm believer that God's heart is wild. How else could he love us with such passion, and demonstrate it in such a radical way? And Jesus himself was a…"

"He was a warrior!" interrupted Harry. And Remus' smile broadened.

"Yes, yes! Now you know who he was. He was a warrior, Harry. Dark and mysterious at times, bright as lightening at others." Here Remus looked at Harry's scar. "He left a mark upon us, one that we can rarely see. Though sometimes it appears to us…"

Harry smiled and touched his forehead. Warmth was spilling through him. "I will never let them win!"

"No. We must never let them win."

"Voldemort will lose. If I have to sacrifice everything…" And here Harry saw Ron and Hermione's faces, and the faces of everyone he had ever loved or who had loved him. "Because it's worth it."

If there had been Dementors around, Harry's Patronus would have killed them all.

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