The process of getting to know this card all over again has been interesting these past few weeks. I feel like a before and after photo, before weighed down with preconceived notions, and after, with a whole new perspective on this card. In readings I’d bring up the concepts of structure and organized religion, rules and conformity, and being of service to others. All this is still true to me, but sitting in “tarot church” discussion group last Sunday morning, my eyes opened to new possibilities for this card.
The Hierophant card appeared in early decks, like The Marseilles and the Visconti Sforza as The Pope, which made me uneasy due to its Christian bent. Most versions of this card depict an old man with one hand raised in benediction and the other holding a crosier or sceptre. The general meaning of the card was read as a balance between earthly and spiritual power. It makes sense. The Pope as intermediary between God and the people. That intermediary is wholly masculine in these early cards, but given the historical context, it’s appropriate in its own way.
PCS: AN EVOLUTION
I remember when I was a little girl, I was intrigued by Al Hirschfeld’s caricatures, not because I was so interested in his art, but because he hid the name of his daughter Nina, sometimes multiple times in all his works. It was fun to look for and discover the NINA in an eyebrow or dress or piece of furniture. I’ve taken that approach this year in my study of Pamela Colman Smith. I am now convinced that within each of her depictions there are clues, mostly subversive, which help us to understand the kind of rebellion she embodied within the context of turn of the twentieth century England.
Smith’s illustration of The Hierophant shows us an androgynous figure, not an old man, and it is intentional that The Hierophant is worshipped below by two bald, traditionally masculine monks. The movement from a more concrete Pope to a somewhat less definitive illustration is critical here, because it helps widen the scope of what can be considered sacred. The Greek “hiero” means holy or sacred, and the suffix “phant” means to show. So the figure becomes someone who embodies what it means to be sacred.
Michelle Tea, in her most excellent Modern Tarot describes an interest in Buddhism, but a recalcitrance to following the rules involved in Zen meditation. “Why did I have to step with that foot? Why did I have to place my hands in that position? Why did I have to turn my body this way?” Michelle, a self described queer feminist, didn’t want to be told what to do, but wanted to learn the Zen tradition. They took a leap, followed the rules, and ultimately learned meditation and gained a meaningful spiritual practice.
Here’s what I learned this week:
Bucking traditions, conventions, norms, for the sake of rebellion isn’t inherently wrong. There are so many places where it is critical that we question authority.
But tradition and conformity have their place, and we can choose where we want to follow, in order to learn. Conformity to a tradition can lead to freedom. The applications are vast. My Sunday meeting group has rules. We follow a testimony and witness format. We don’t respond to others in the chat. We don’t argue. We speak and we listen. This construct, or container, gives us freedom. When we practice a religion there are traditions, rules, structures which define the vessel through which we have the freedom to grow. In this way, The Hierophant is a giver of freedom and choice, and it becomes not only more palatable for me, it reminds me of all the sacred spaces we live within.
OFFERINGS
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I’d love to hear what The Hierophant means to you. Comments are open to all.
Until next week, when we will explore The Lovers.
xo Hanna
I loved this piece Hanna. I love me some rules AND I love breaking them.