Sorcery and Scientism

A Reflection on Magic and Scientism

Over the past year, a discernible transformation has occurred in my thoughts. At this time last year, my focus was primarily on the theme of disenchantment. Surprisingly, I can't recall a single instance this year where I've delved into this topic.

This shift in perspective finds its roots in my extensive readings of Lewis and Tolkien over the past while. Their profound insights have led me to perceive our current struggles not as mere "disenchantment" but rather as a skillfully crafted form of magic. This transformative realization has significantly reshaped my intellectual landscape, guiding me from advocating for the "re-enchantment" of what I believed was "disenchanted" to a somewhat different pursuit — unraveling the clandestine mechanisms of a dark magic that many remain oblivious to.

This afternoon, I've been reflecting on much of what I wrote in "That Old Morgul Magic" and have some expanded thoughts. For those who haven’t read that piece, here’s a summation. I believe that because many of us have been baptized into the story of secular materialism, we have been immersed in a narrative that has the power to blind us to things right in front of us — namely, a world charged with the grandeur of God.

This drastic shift has altered the way we experience reality compared to our ancient forbears. When we gaze at the same sun, moon, and stars our ancestors looked at, we no longer perceive Rulers and Angels; instead, we see space rocks and balls of gas. The same wind that once carried the touch of God's Spirit in that ancient world is now felt as mere wind. I contended then, some might not consider this a story but a spell, perhaps even black magic.

In this short essay, I aim to delve further into the dichotomy between so-called "superstition and science." This expansion builds upon my previous writings and seeks to better elucidate the pervasive and deceptive nature of the magic that has blinded us.

In his work "On Fairy Stories," J.R.R. Tolkien framed an important distinction that elucidates the nature of magic and enchantment and their respective effects. Enchantment possesses the power to create a Secondary World, where both designer and spectator can immerse themselves, satisfying their senses with artistic desire and purpose. On the other hand, magic aims to manipulate the Primary World, pretending to produce an alteration. Regardless of who practices it —far or mortal— magic remains distinct; it is not an art but a technique, driven by a desire for power in this world, and the desire for domination of things and wills. He wrote:

“Enchantment produces a Secondary World, into which both designer and spectator can enter, to the satisfaction of their senses while they are inside; but in its purity, it is artistic in desire and purpose. Magic produces, or pretends to produce, an alteration in the Primary World. It does not matter by whom it is said to be practiced, fay or mortal; it remains distinct from the other two; it is not an art but a technique; its desire is power in this world, domination of things and wills.”

Tolkien further emphasized that:

“It [enchantment] is magic of a peculiar mood and power, at the furthest pole from the vulgar devices of the laborious, scientific, magician.”

This intricacy fascinates me because I think that it reveals a contemporary spell woven between the dichotomy of magic (superstition) and science. In our modern, secular materialist thinking, we don’t want to be considered superstitious, so we aim to be scientific. In Tolkien's thinking, they may be perceived as one because both aim to alter the Primary World with a desire for power and domination. Note the connection Tolkien draws between the scientific and the magician who manipulates with spells.

Now, it’s crucial to note that Tolkien isn’t warning against science which sees and describes the world “as it actually is.” He’s warning against what C.S. Lewis called “scientism,” which is the deification of the scientific method and using it in an authoritarian manner to rule based on scientific knowledge and expertise. This is why Tolkien compares the scientific and the magician. Both use “spells” or “science” to exert power over others.

One need not look far in our own day to see the impact of scientism. Simply look back at 2020, which was the year the earth stood still because of COVID-19. “Scientific” knowledge and expertise were used in an authoritarian manner to exert power over others. Businesses closed. Churches closed. The only thing that could “slow the spread” was the magic ritual of masking (double masking who were displeased with the ordinary form of the spell and wanted to opt for the extraordinary form), social distancing, and getting vaccinated. Those who refused to do so were labeled as “anti-science,” “super-spreaders,” and were said to “not really love their neighbors.” Notice in that last denunciation how “science” has intermingled with religious ethics.

Now for some, this connection between science and magic may be tenuous. However, Dr. Patrick Curry, in his essay titled “Enchantment vs Magic” in Mallorn: The Journal of the Tolkien Society, echoes this observation, highlighting instances in history where modern science openly acknowledged its magical nature. He notes:

“Historically speaking, a great deal of ‘natural magic’ went into the making of modem science in the late seventeenth century, when the latter absorbed, adapted and renamed much of the former. This is especially true of the Baconian program m e. Newton's work, and the Royal Society, one of whose founder members, Elias Ashmole (1652: 445) defined magic as “the Connexion of natural Agents and Patients, answerable each to other, wrought by a wise Man to the bringing forth of such effects as are wonderful to those that know not their causes.” Specifying what kind of ‘natural Agents’ were involved was, and continues to be, a turf war internal to Magic. Nor has the popular incomprehension of science, which continue to render its effects “wonderful” to the public, changed much; how many people really understand telephones, let alone computers, or quantum physics? Sometimes the magical nature of modern science is openly admitted, and even exploited: as with General Electric’s corporate research laboratory, touted as a ‘house of magic’ staffed with white-coated wizards. More often, however, it is strenuously denied in a way that highlights the tendentiousness of the magic/science opposition. For that is to accept the dubious and self-interested claims of scientific spokespersons to have transcended states of magical enchantment - a.k.a. ‘superstition,' ‘ideology,’ or ‘false consciousness’ - and by virtue of a state of disinterested and disenchanted reason to have seen and described the world ‘as it actually is.’ Thus, we pass all too easily from rationality to rationalism, and from science to scientism, the cult of scientific reason."

Later in the essay, Curry goes as far to say that “magic has achieved a global dominance.” This should cause us to pause and reflect on the modern world because if true, this means that the modernist program is not really disenchanted but is as saturated and driven by the ideology and metaphysics of Magic as Aleister Crowley was. In fact, Curry writes:

“As a matter of philosophical, practical, and historical fact, these two share extensive common ground - much more than what divides them. The principal goal of both is to engineer changes in the Primary World, and both try to amass knowledge in order to predict and control the world; both adhere to the idea of laws of nature which can be manipulated for human gain. That those laws are spiritual or occult in the case of magic and material in the case of science is a point of ultimately secondary importance. Nothing in Aleister Crowely’s idea of magic — ‘the art of bringing about changes in conformity with will’ — would greatly upset a contemporary scientist, except perhaps for calling it an art instead of a science.”

This brings me to my present reflection. You could call it application, I suppose.

Not only should we be careful about where we give our allegiance to, but pastors and churches need to be extra careful. When we embrace scientistic thinking in the church, we unwittingly play into the dark hand of That Old Morgul Magic. This scales to many levels — from those saying “trust the science” to even those who may be beholden to Scientific Ministries like Biologos and others who are willing to play fast and loose with Christian beliefs in favor of beakers. All of this is dark Morgul Magic that warps reality.

Delivering lectures on the scientific aspects of Genesis 1 or attempting to analyze miracles, accompanied by statements such as "considering the ancients were not well-informed, but let me explain how science interprets this now," could unintentionally cast a spell we hadn't intended. When we do this, we are allowing the wizards of the cult of science to determine the dogma of our faith. And in doing this, we risk following the path of Saruman of Many Colors from Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings,"” breaking things apart to understand them, departing from the path of wisdom.

“‘For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colours! I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved, they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered. I liked white better, I said. What!' he sneered. 'It serves as a beginning. White cloth may be dyed. The white page can be overwritten, and the white light can be broken.' In which case it is no longer white,' said I. 'And he that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom.'"

Truth be told, in light of this, I even have some reservations about contemporary preaching and modes of exegesis that is found in certain seminaries. The use of phrases like "breaking down this text" or "breaking down this word to find its meaning" invokes images of Saruman of Many Colors in my mind. Now, don't get me wrong — I'm not advocating against the proper interpretation of biblical texts to understand their meaning. Those familiar with my preaching would attest to that and observing things “as they actually are” is a duty for pastors — they must be able to teach and not go beyond what is written. However, I can't shake the observation that our ancient predecessors approached preaching with a sense of contemplation and imagination.

In their time, the text wasn't dissected using a methodology akin to the scientific method to extract its meaning. Instead, it served as an invitation for congregants to actively participate in the story contained within the scripture. The church calendar, functioning as a tool for participating in the Christian narrative, strongly reinforced this more immersive and participatory approach.

This approach aligns with Tolkien's perspective on enchantment. When we welcome congregants into Scripture, we extend an invitation for them to step into the inspired creation of the Designer — God. As they enter as spectators, they experience satisfaction for their senses within the enchanted narrative about the Primary World. Consequently, this process not only engages them in an enchanted story but also serves to re-enchant the Primary World, rendering them less susceptible to the seductive influence of Modernity's Morgul Magic.

Drawing on C.S. Lewis' "Meditation in a Toolshed," I find a fitting analogy here. Frequently, contemporary preaching and exegesis align more with what Lewis terms "looking at the beam" rather than "seeing by the beam." It's likely that both perspectives are essential. Initially, we must "look at the beam" to comprehend its true nature. However, it's crucial to bear in mind that we undertake this observation with the ultimate aim of "seeing by the beam" and aiding others in doing so. It necessitates stepping into the beam, so that we can go further up and further in, together.