What is the nature of childlike faith, the kind praised by Jesus and uplifted by the world’s great religions? That question is raised in the new film adaptation of Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass even as the film’s critics claim the need for such faith’s defense.

Lyra Belacqua (Dakota Blue Richards) lives in Jordan College, a fictional college of the University of Oxford in a universe parallel to our own. Yet it is a world in which every human is linked to a dæmon. This dæmon takes the form of an animal and expresses a characteristic of the human’s conscience or soul. The form changes during childhood but becomes fixed in adulthood.

Lyra embodies a childlike faith that is curious about the world around her. Her curiosity leads her to spy on her uncle and guardian, Lord Asriel (Daniel Craig), saving his life. And soon, it rewards her with the gift of a “Golden Compass,” or alethiometer, which enables those who understand its complex array of 36 symbols to know truth and glimpse the future.

Lyra’s childlike faith believes and hopes. When she meets the sleek and beautiful Marisa Coulter (Nicole Kidman), Lyra’s adventurous spirit is drawn to her with the promise of new friendship and an adventure to the north, especially when her friend Roger turns up among the increasing number of missing children. But she soon discovers Mrs. Coulter’s darker side, connected with a mysterious organization known as The Magisterium, which seeks to control humanity. When a battle of wills ensues, embodied by a tussle between their dæmons, Lyra flees for her safety.

As Lyra encounters a world of aeronauts, nomadic sailors, witches and armored ice bears, her childlike faith grows. She shows an emerging maturity in her judgment and is rumored to be a child foretold in ancient prophecy. Her childlike faith sees the good in other people and brings out their best, such as when she alone helps an exiled ice bear Iorek Byrnison (the voice of Ian McKellan) regain his armor and his self-respect.

While Lyra’s childlike faith takes people at their word, it also holds them to it. This characteristic is no simple feat in a world full of duplicity that is perilous to children. Lyra must judge for herself, with the help of her dæmon, Pantalaimon or “Pan,” about which of the adults around her are good, virtuous, and trustworthy.

Stories of fantasy stretch our imagination and enable us to understand the conflicts within our world in a new way. Respect for individual conscience has always been a hallmark of authentic faith. But the Magisterium depicted in Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy and, in the film to a lesser extent, resembles the excesses of a church aligned with worldly power. Whenever a group seeks to convince people to surrender judgment for their own protection or for the sake of childlike faith, the danger of oppression exceeds other threats.

In the His Dark Materials trilogy, Pullman does portray the downfall of “the Kingdom of Heaven” and the fall of its godlike Authority. But the “God” who falls is a caricature, representing outdated ideas of God, including perhaps even Pullman’s own.

The film adaptation of The Golden Compass presents an engaging and entertaining story of childlike faith. No parent need fear that viewing this film or reading this trilogy will damage childlike faith. Childlike faith can wrestle with other views and engage them. And the God who entered into debate with Job and allowed challenges from Moses certainly can accommodate questions about divine existence.

It’s a pity that others cannot.