The Hierophant - the Way to Sacred Wisdom
A Tarot offering for Libra season
One of my first ever favorite songs spun from the grooves of my dad’s Styx album Edge of the Century. I was eight years old when it was released and rapt at the tenderness in Dennis De Young’s musical confession:
Every night I say a prayer, in the hopes that there’s a heaven.
And every day I’m more confused as the saints turn into sinners.
With synthesizers, harmonic vocals and swelling guitar riffs, the song implored some mysterious divinity to offer a sign in a world steeped in disappointment and loss.
Show me the way, show me the way.
Take me tonight to the river
And wash my illusions away.
A few weeks ago, I woke with the song in my head after dreaming that an old friend asked me to name the most meaningful song I could think of. I listened to the recording after breakfast and cried for the child within me who is still searching for answers, for a way to navigate the uncertainties of life.
This Libra season I’ve been reflecting on the archetype of the Hierophant and I think he came for me in the form of this particular song…to remind me of the depth of my own spiritual longing for a Path, a Way into sacred mystery.
The (appropriately weird) title, Hierophant, refers to the greek priests of the Eleusinian Mysteries, ancient rites that honored the cycle of seasons as symbolized in the myth of the goddess Demeter and her daughter Persephone. During the mysteries, initiates from all walks of life participated in fasting, prayer, pilgrimage and consumption of the psychoactive drink, kykeon, in order to experience the ascension of the spirit and gain access to the wisdom of the goddess herself.
The Hierophant administered these rites.
When I pull the Hierophant in a tarot reading, I believe that the querent is being called into his or her own initiation with the Sacred.
Mystery beckons.
Spirit has arrived for us, but still we may be confused. Where is the call coming from exactly? And how do we take ourselves out to meet it?
Many guidebooks and tarot teachers read the Hierophant as an invitation to dedicate to a spiritual tradition or to seek out a spiritual teacher of some kind. But in a globalized world, with access to more practices and gurus than we could ever commit to in one lifetime, the search for the best approach can be overwhelming.
I’ve struggled in my own path to find a tradition that is sufficiently vetted (by ancestral fortitude) but still speaks to my life in a contemporary context. Among other qualifications, for me, a rich spiritual practice must
be inclusive while allowing for divergence;
expand my sense of possibility beyond the material, without straying into the realm of the irrational;
be rooted in the Land, while sustaining me in the simulacrum of cyberspace.
In conjunction with Libra season (the current astrological moment) the Hierophant serves as a good reminder that all of these elements require a moving, dynamic approach to balance: Internal and external. Shadow and Light. Analog and Digital. Material and Spirit.
Ideally, our well-balanced belief systems (healthy Hierophant) would support our Justice work (the card of Libra season), helping us to live out our values— but this isn’t always the case.
Hierophant asks us to interrogate the belief systems that guide our actions. What do we believe really? And where do those beliefs come from? Are our actions aligned with those beliefs? How?
What are you doing?
Take a look at your daily activities, the things you do routinely if not every day. Why do you do them? How are they supporting you? (Or not?) Every little thing that we engage in has the opportunity to become a spiritual practice, if we can remain aware of how it aligns with our values.
Something as simple as setting the table for dinner becomes a sacred rite; a gesture of gratitude for the food on the table and the people that sit around it.
Some of us scroll for an hour after dinner every night. Where is that coming from? Who or what makes us feel this is beneficial? Is it?
I’ve found a lot of enjoyment and inspiration on social media, but it starts to weigh on me when scrolling tips into over-consuming. In front of a screen, it’s too easy to receive (ideas, energy, arguments) without offering an energy exchange of my own. In person, the exchange goes without saying—we are participating in an interpersonal, alchemical process by the fact of our presence alongside another person. But online, this flow seems to get backed up. The value of our attention is reduced into a commodity, instead of uplifted as a conscious energetic exchange.
You are the keeper of the keys.
The digital world often puts us in the role of the student by default. We receive the message of those who teach, convince or entertain us with one offering or another. Influencers become cyber gurus. We expect too much and also not enough from these modern-day Hierophants.
Perhaps now more than ever, we have to be careful about where we place our spiritual trust.
Who serves as our Hierophant? Who leads us to the experience of sacred Truth?
I’ve been heartbroken so many times in the last decade by the toppling of my own idols. So many admired teachers, artists, leaders reach a point of popularity that disconnects them from their own humanity. They either fold under the pressure of so much attention (falling into addiction or mental health crises) or inflate to the point that they harm others (sometimes committing literal crimes) without any recompense.
Unlock the door.
Consider the possibility that the Goddess (spirit, divine creativity, God, however you want to name her) lives in the temple of your own body. Your mind. Your spirit. You are the guardian and the priestess of her mysteries.
I think when we pull the Hierophant, wielding the staff that channels messages from the divine, we are reminded of our innate human ability to stand in our own authority as creatures of divine intuition.
We are the stewards of our own paths. We may appoint more experienced seekers as our guides, but we are the ones who give them their power. This is the meaning of the old adage: “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” Teachers are granted their position through the willing attention of the student. The most important lessons of our lives come at the urging of our own Souls, not someone else’s curriculum.
What does your Soul want to teach you?
Try this:
This Tarot spread will help you identify your Soul lessons and connect with your inner Hierophant.
Card 1 — Where am I placing my spiritual trust?
Card 2 — What spiritual lesson does my soul want me to learn right now?
Card 3 — How can I lean into my own spiritual authority to support this learning process?
Make your way.
Styx’s lyricist looks for the Divine at the river’s edge, at the mountain, in dreams. Ultimately, I believe that the Goddess is ready to meet us ANY DAMN PLACE we’re willing to acknowledge her. Like the giant brain-shaped God in Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam, her wisdom rushes toward us. All we have to do is lift a finger and she’s there reaching out to us in return.
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All the spiritual paths, traditions, practices and teachings out there are only as good as their ability to keep that direct connection at the forefront of our awareness.
As one of many potential practices that can do this, Tarot works well for me. In practice, I exercise my intuition and inner knowing, while the cards help me reframe challenges as opportunities for growth, strengthening and care. This process feels sacred and vital and spiritually alive to me. If you’re here, maybe the same is true for you.
I’m glad that we could walk this holy path together for a moment in time.
Please share your reflections in the comments below (bonus points if you tell me YOUR first favorite song) or invite others to join us. We are all each other’s teachers. We are all each other’s students.