In this Scottish legend and many others like it fish and ring are twin symbols of Christianity and magic. The two supernatural systems have long coexisted but often as antagonists.
In the Bible, both Moses and the pharaoh's magicians can turn their staffs into snakes - but Moses' serpent devours theirs.
Jesus condemns all forms of sorcery and incantations but is said to turn water into wine, multiply a few "loaves and fishes" to feed 5,000 people, walk on water and raise the dead, Christian leaders burned so-called witches during the Inquisition of the 15th century and later in Salem, Mass., in part, for calling on otherworldly powers, yet candidates for sainthood in the Catholic Church are credited with miracles that depend on divine intervention.
Today, some Christians shun magical fiction like Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings or "The Matrix," fearing their allure will replace religious faith.
In every case, magic is viewed as having real but counterfeit powers promoted by the father of all lies - Lucifer.
The tumultuous relationship between magic and religion has intrigued anthropologists since the 19th century. Many of the nation's colleges and universities, from Harvard and Boston University to the University of Utah and Salt Lake Community College, continue to provide courses on its history and social consequences.
"In many societies, trying to separate magic from religion is not easy to do," says Laurence Loeb, who teaches a U. course on myth, magic and religion. "Major religions, like Judaism, Christianity and Islam, speak out against magic and the occult. Nonetheless, we find elements of religious behavior that are clearly magical."
Sometimes the distinction is reduced to a kind of disdain: "What I do is religion. What you do is magic."
Inevitably, it comes down to a power struggle.
"Religions condemned magic because it's a lay [nonclergy] experience," says Colleen McDannell, religious studies professor at the University of Utah. "It was done mostly by women at times of child-bearing, giving birth, or illness."
If men are doing it at church, it's religion; if women are doing it at home, it's magic, she says. "It's not surprising that witches were women."
Where's science?: Magical thinking is now regarded as closer to scientific thought than we used to think, says Wendy Doniger, director of the Martin Marty Center and distinguished service professor of the history of religions in the Divinity School at the University of Chicago. "Science is manipulating matter to do what you want to do."
If you mix the right amount of uranium and plutonium, you can make a bomb. How's that different than combining, say the "eye of Newt and the toe of frog," as the witches in Macbeth do?
"If you have the right potion, it will work every time," says Doniger. "You will be able to kill someone or make them fall in love."
In both science and religion, you make things happen by yourself. Religion, however, demands helplessness and humility. You have to ask a divine being for help.
Jesus performed miracles only reluctantly, Doniger says. He wanted followers to believe in his words, to follow him in faith, not be dazzled by his powers.
Ditto for Buddha.
Though Buddhist monks well-schooled in the arts of meditation could fly, Doniger says, the Buddha urged them to restrain themselves. He wanted to convert people to the Four Noble Truths, not impressive feats.
Still, the attraction of magic persists.
"Magical thinking is a very human thing to do," says Doniger, who will be in Utah on Monday to give the Obert and Grace Tanner Lecture at the University of Utah, "Magic Rings and Magical Powers: Memory and Forgetfulness in Cross-Cultural Mythology."
Doniger will be exploring three kinds of rings - those which bestow identity, fantasy or magic.
The first kind, the signet ring, is not magic at all. It is the ring of identity, and occurs in stories in which a lost-and-then-found ring validates a woman's claim that a certain man has slept with her.
The second ring is fantastic: This ring gets lost in the ocean, later to be found inside the belly of a fish, echoing the Glasgow legend. The recovered ring may have a positive or a negative power; sometimes its owner has tried to lose it, other times to find it, but inevitably the ring returns.
The third type of ring is magic: it makes people forget the people they love, or their own identities.
"When you lose the ring, you no longer know who you are," she says.
A history of tension: The themes of love and spiritual power beyond this world have played out in both magic and religion for centuries. Both appeal to that power to transform human experience. The difference is in the relationship to that power.
Magicians see themselves as compelling the cosmos to do their will by a series of spells or mixture of items. Religion, on the other, insists that intervening in the cosmos is a reflection of God's will. People can pray for help, but they cannot compel it.
In the Roman era, Christians condemned the theology of magic, says Deeana Klepper, who teaches a course on magic, religion and science at Boston University.
If Jesus is raised from the dead, that's because he is God. If Lazarus is raised from the dead, it's God intervening. If Simon Magus raises someone from the dead, either it's trickery or some demon, Klepper says.
St. Augustine told people that prayer was enough, that they didn't need special amulets.
Yet throughout Christian history, magical practices were common, especially among working class folk, and it was tolerated up to a point.
By the 12th and 13th centuries, church leadership became troubled by what it saw as rampant heresy and any kind of social behavior apart from the church. The Inquisition, for example, originally was meant not as a punitive body but as a way of keeping control of Christian understanding.
Stephen of Bourbon was sent into the countryside to investigate different practices and found a cult of people venerating a dog and using magic to heal people, Klepper says.
But some magic persisted even within the church.
"Natural magic like alchemy and astrology were seen by church leaders as a kind of science that could uncover the hidden powers of nature," Klepper says. "Only literate people could access those."
Though America is the most religious society in the world, it is really magic that people want, says the U's McDannell.
"Magic is also about laziness, it's easy, you don't have to work so hard," she says. "The whole consumer culture is geared towards it. Take this pill and lose 40 pounds. No diet or exercise. It's immediate."
Athletes try many ways to affect their performance. They wear lucky socks to get a hit in baseball. They repeat certain words before taking a foul shot at basketball, or stroke a lucky charm before kicking a field goal.
"The reason why these rituals tend to hang around is because of the uncertainties of our world," Loeb says. "You don't know when you get up in morning whether you'll be alive at the end of the day."
pstack@sltrib.com
A magical lecture
* Who: The Tanner Humanities Center, a program of the College of Humanities at the University of Utah, invites the public to the annual Sterling M. McMurrin Lecture on Religion and Culture.
* What: Wendy Doniger, director of the Martin Marty Center and professor of history of religions in the Divinity School at the University of Chicago, will present a lecture on: "Magic Rings and Magical Powers: Memory and Forgetfulness in Cross-Cultural Mythology."
* When: Monday, 7 p.m.
* Where: Salt Lake City Public Library Auditorium, 210 E. 400 South
* Everyone is invited: The lecture is free and open to the public.


