Could It Be Magic?

 

I’ve been thinking about magic recently.

When I was a child, I love watching magicians on television. My favourite was David Nixon (I’m showing my age now!). My dad bought me a magic set. But one of my treasured memories was being assistant to my brother’s magic act at our annual Sunday School concert. (Remember that, Dave Faulkner?)

On holiday this summer, we went to see a magic act. I don’t find it as awe inspiring as an adult, being more aware of all the sleight of hand, distraction and hype. But it was entertaining to see how loud music, random dance moves, and a crazy number of costume changes built up the drama. There were moments of wonder too – and not just the sheer number of umbrellas he produced ‘out of thin air’. It was clearly his signature trick: whenever there was a pause or we wondered what was coming next, abracadabra! More umbrellas!

We came out of the theatre smiling.

It’s made me think about how the act of creating is like magic:

To take something ephemeral, almost formless, like thoughts and dreams. and turn them into a poem, a story, a piece of art.

To take sheep’s hair and turn it into something to keep a loved one warm, physically wrapping them in love, a tangible reassurance each time they wear it.

To take a bunch of muddy lumps from the ground and turn them into something delicious that sustains loved ones and does them good, helps keep them alive.

Such magical power: turning love – a feeling, an intention, an attitude – into something concrete. Something that declares to an individual, or the world, or God, or even ourselves: I love you! Look, here’s the proof! See it, feel it, hear it, taste it, touch it. This is my love translated into something you can know.

Isn’t that what God’s Creation is about? His expression of love.

And isn’t that what the Incarnation is about? God’s love made evident, concrete, in flesh. So people could see, feel, hear, touch, and taste it directly.

I think creativity is a core part of our nature. It can bring joy and healing. But I don’t think it’s just basic to our humanity. I think it’s a reflection of our Heavenly Father in us.

When I read the beginning of Genesis or reflect on the pictures from the James Webb Space Telescope, telling the story of our universe’s origins – such beauty and variety from such nothingness – that feels like magic. And I feel the same awe that I did as a child watching a magician make someone disappear and reappear somewhere else.

And when we, as writers, produce an article, a sermon, a book (ok, it’s nowhere near as quick as the umbrellas my holiday magician kept producing!) - something that can move others, encourage them, stimulate them to change - out of mere pigment and solvent, cellulose fibres or pixels, and all from microcellular circuits in an organ that made up of 60% fat, isn’t that magical too?

Liz Manning is about to give up being an Occupational Therapist and become a student again on a Creative Writing MA at Plymouth University, where she hopes to bring at least one of her WIPs to publication readiness. She’ll no doubt blog about how she gets on, with both her studies and living in a Cornish coastal village. She’s also given up being a BB captain but not a wife and mum.

She blogs regularly at https://thestufflifeismadeofblog.wordpress.com/