Learning to Read the Hierophant

This series on the major arcana presents some ways that I like to think about each of the majors with the hope that it helps you learn more about or think differently about these cards. In each of these posts, I provide an overview of how I read the relevant major arcanum through a few different lenses: with keywords; in the context of other majors; and through visuals. You can read more about the premise behind this structure in the introductory post on the “Learning to Read the Major Arcana” series.

These may represent just a small sample of what I might consider when I see a major arcanum, but they are still quite deep takes, so they can be a lot to take in all at once. Don’t be afraid to skip around and come back to it paragraph by paragraph as needed.


Keywords

As a reminder, these keywords are examples and not exhaustive of all possible meanings of the Hierophant. Remember to take what works for you and question what doesn’t. I’ve tried to arrange these keywords by broad concept to help organize them and make them easier to learn.

  • Education, Knowledge, Experience

  • Spiritual leadership, Religion, Doctrine, Divine masculine

  • Stability, Institution, Hegemony, Gatekeeping

  • Tradition, Community, Ancestry

  • Taurus, Earth

In Context

In honor of the Hierophant’s association with tradition, I think that it’s useful to start by taking the approach that I’ve taken with the five majors preceding this one: let’s look at the Hierophant’s neighbors, the Emperor and the Lovers. But we’re coming into a new year after all, and it’s a Hierophant year (2 + 0 + 2 + 1 = 5), so we should look at things with a new lens. And like the dialectic that creates the Hierophant’s hegemony (those are fancy critical theory words that I’ll explain in a bit), new elements must be incorporated into the old in order for anything to maintain relevance. Stability is all well and good, but it’s an easy target to resist.

Compare the Hierophant first to the Emperor. Both are traditionally masculine figures of order and control, but their control is different: the Hierophant typically “rules” over a religion or school or other organization where there is a willing population who has consented to the organization whereas the Emperor rules over an area, and your consent to be governed doesn’t matter. The Emperor is typically born into the role or conquers his way into that role, but the Hierophant is elected based on relevant qualifications, such as education and experience. As such, the Hierophant is often associated with expertise and the control that goes with organizing a tradition or community of the likeminded rather than domination. The Emperor has power over the life and death of his people, but the Hierophant has power over the “life and death” of secondary but often more personal facets of life, such as education, spirituality, and community membership. The Hierophant can lead schools, religions, and libraries—places where knowledge is codified and people opt in to its study—but it can also be businesses, holidays, and sometimes extended family.

On the other side, we have the Lovers, and that arcanum offers a completely different set of associations and areas for contrast. The Lovers (or the singular Lover in the Tarot de Marseille) is a card about partnership and difficult choices made by the individual. As an elected or appointed leader, the Hierophant rules by consent, but he is the head of the hierarchy, so he does not rule by consensus. It’s an important distinction from the Lovers because the Hierophant is not engaged in a partnership with an equal peer as the Lover(s) is. Similarly, the Lovers often requires personal choice: this person or that person, lust or love, familial duty or personal passion, and the like. The Hierophant has a code to follow. Yes, he can deviate from tradition, but such an act isn’t insignificant or a choice between comparable options, as shown in the Lovers; it would be a major break. To shift the Hierophant from the approved path takes a veritable “act of God.” In fact, the Hierophant does not necessarily even matter as an individual, so his personal beliefs or opinions don’t matter once he’s part of the group. This helps show the contrast between the general lightness (or flightiness) of the Lovers and the gravity (and stability) of the Hierophant. With that, there’s also a bit of a contrast between the maturity of the Hierophant and the youth of the Lovers, but that may be a minor factor when reading these cards. As a side note, in the Smith-Waite Tarot, there is a religious element to the Lovers (and pretty much every other card) that ties it to the Hierophant’s religious iconography, but the Lovers is not necessarily a card about temptation and morality.

That’s probably enough of a start for new tarot readers, but if you want to think about other majors, you can go further by comparing the Hierophant to the other majors by its number and by its element or astrological correspondence. But before we jump into that, I want to look at the High Priestess. Perhaps it’s my having just talked about the Lovers, but it’s worth noting the traditional gendering of this card and the previous three majors. We have the High Priestess and the Empress representing the divine and material feminine, and we have the Emperor and the Hierophant representing the material and divine masculine. They create natural pairs, and it places the High Priestess and the Hierophant as complementary archetypes. Another way of describing the Hierophant is the High Priest, and the Tarot de Marseille titles them “La Papesse” and “Le Pape” to show that similarity more clearly than the later title of “Hierophant.” You can use the traditional gendering of these cards as we did for the High Priestess and the Magician earlier in this series, with the feminine as receptive to complement the expressive or active masculine. Whereas the Priestess contains wisdom within her that must be accessed individually in the dark, the Priest may be seen as the public transmitter of knowledge. As such, he is more tied to community and officialdom than the High Priestess. But it’s worth remembering that the Hierophant’s knowledge is also a divine secret, like the Priestess’s, and he is an authorized gatekeeper. He often is seen with keys because there is something locked away, however open to the public he may seem. And because of the hierarchical nature of his organization, it can be harder to get through all of his gates than it can be to access the more reclusive but independent High Priestess. That should be plenty of food for thought on the difference and similarity to the High Priestess for now, but I encourage you to keep chewing it over.

Let’s shift gears and look at the numerology of the Hierophant. As the midway point between 1 and 9, the Hierophant’s 5 is at the turning point of experience, where there is the opportunity to experience and question and explore before continuing on. That may seem very in line with the minor arcana numbered 5, but on the surface it’s counter to the stable nature of the Hierophant. Yet if we look at Temperance/Art, the alchemically balanced card numbered 14, which reduces to a 5 (1 + 4 = 5), we can see that change and adaptation are part of the hegemonic balancing act that allows the Hierophant to remain in control. I mentioned above that there’s a dialectic that allows for hegemony. Hegemony is essentially a social or intellectual alchemy, where you have one element, idea, or thesis (let’s call it “water") and an opposed element, idea, or antithesis (let’s call that one “fire”). They can’t both exist as is simultaneously, but they do both exist and are believed to be equally true, so the dialectic must negotiate between the two to find the truth beneath the two or a way to synthesize them (thesis and antithesis require a synthesis). Adaptation is how the Hierophant remains in power. He and his organization take conflicting beliefs (including the appropriation of different practices) and distill or blend them to find an option that works for everyone. It’s usually well-intended, but“everyone” can never be literally everyone, which is why the Hierophant and organizations represented by him can be so problematic. And when you’re working with groups of people and beliefs instead of alchemical elements, there’s a dominant power with its own history, which usually maintains authority. This allows the adaptable Hierophant to represent “tradition” and “stability” even though it’s not actually monolithic. Bits and pieces of the other are brought in to make the Hierophant better, but in becoming better and more acceptable, it can maintain the status quo and the idea of the unified system. 

That’s a lot on that meaty topic, so let’s simplify things a little bit with the astrological and elemental correspondences. 

The Hierophant is the tarot card that represents Taurus, so it is associated with the element of earth. The two other earth signs are Virgo and Capricorn, represented by the Hermit and the Devil, respectively, and we’ll look at those first because they’re pretty informative. Both carry forward the idea of wisdom, divine knowledge, and control. 

The Hermit is a useful counterpoint to add to the pairing of High Priestess and Hierophant. The Hermit takes on more of the individualized wisdom and close quarters of the High Priestess, exaggerating it to provide greater contrast to the Hierophant. If the Hierophant were to go off into a cave, then he would lose his public-facing power. Yes, there are secret leaders who still maintain a cult of personality and hold persuasive power as some variants of the Hierophant might, but that’s not the primary mode for the Hierophant. In fact, that feels more like the High Priestess. The Hierophant is much more naturally a figurehead for their organization and performs his role in the open and with official authority. And while he is a gatekeeper to some source of knowledge like the High Priestess and Hermit, he is not as hard to reach or, ostensibly, to understand. Nevertheless, he is a necessary intermediary. You cannot gain the Hierophant’s wisdom on your own except through official channels. Anyone can withdraw from society like the Hermit and contemplate life and the mysteries of the world. But to follow in the tradition of the Hierophant, you need to take approved knowledge with you. Even if you are in a self-paced program of study, you’re still studying from the officially approved texts or with officially sanctioned exercises. The Hermit’s path is much more of the outsider, whereas the Hierophant is always an insider (at least within the community it represents). 

In contrast, the Devil takes the consented control of the Hierophant and uses it for different purposes. While the Devil may sometimes look like a slave-driver or as if it has complete control over us, it’s usually a force to whom we’ve given over our power. We can get out of the Devil’s bonds if we want to, but it requires taking control back from that leader, and there’s a cost to that. We’ll talk more about the Devil in … a while (let’s be honest; it’ll probably be a few months), but suffice it to say that it’s not all bad. There’s a reason that we’ve given control over to someone or something else: we get something out of the agreement. It’s a contract of sorts. In the case of the Hierophant, we form a social contract to be part of the club or an agreement to develop expertise and authority by following in others’ footsteps. We follow a study in order to stand on the shoulders of giants. The Devil’s contract is usually much more personal and time-bound. There’s usually no sharing in the Devil’s power as in the expertise or authority developed through the Hierophant, and the benefits end when the bondage ends. And that’s an important lesson for understanding the Hierophant, especially if you view the archetype as domineering. You relinquish some power in order to participate and, in theory, you can develop your own lasting power within the same community. As is often the case with the Devil, you may find that it was not a fair trade, but it’s definitely an easier and more defined path than the Hermit’s.

The other two earth cards are the Empress, representing Venus, the ruler of Taurus (and thus of the Hierophant), and the World/Universe, representing Saturn and elemental earth. These offer supplemental nuance. The Empress is a figure of control and authority, leading through charismatic appeal rather than brute force, much like the Hierophant. As the ultimate mother, she also is associated with roots and lineage, providing the female (and more certain) half of ancestry. What she creates, the Hierophant help maintains. But the Hierophant is also a creator, working in a system or network outside of the natural or legally mandated structures created by the Empress and Emperor. Often, that system helps the Emperor and Empress maintain control, but it exists separately as well. More uniquely tied to the Empress’s associations is a love of finery and the accumulation of material things. This isn’t always true of the Hierophant, but it usually is a part of the deal. If the religious leader or teacher were trying to avoid material things, they would likely fall into the archetype of the Hermit, who tries to leave as much of the material world behind as possible.

The World/Universe is also a card of material accumulation and status, but it is much more about the earned status that comes from some achievement. The status of the World is what the Hierophant promises if you follow in the tradition. Often the World is seen as a kind of graduation, and that comes from the schooling of the Hierophant. The World can represent personal development and personal evolution or transformation that is distinct from external validation, and the Hierophant’s teachings can provide that as well, but its value (its material benefits) also comes from external recognition. The Hierophant (Taurus) is astrologically between the Devil (Capricorn) and the Hermit (Virgo), so there is a nice balance between embracing the material world (the Devil) and eschewing it (the Hermit). In some ways, you can see the Hierophant as recognizing the importance of external (and material) motivation to encourage internal (and spiritual) transformation, both of which are represented by the World.

Visuals

For interpreting the visuals, I chose one of my favorite images of the Hierophant, which comes from the Muse Tarot by Chris-Anne. (You can read my interview with that deck here.) 

In this depiction of the Hierophant, our spiritual leader appears as a kind of personified lighthouse. A floral light appears around the muse’s head, and a similar design appears like the setting or rising sun, suggesting celestial wisdom and a connection point between human and divine. With the Hierophant, it’s always worth asking what kind of wisdom or community or connection the leader offers. Is it spiritual, religious, educational, commercial, or something else? 

This Hierophant is female, but that is true of all figures in the Muse Tarot, so a more relevant detail would be the fact that she is depicted as a kind of object. Raised up on a semi-carved stone landmark and much larger than the human women beneath her, the Hierophant is an icon and a beacon, a role model, guiding light, and inspiration. She is more of an idea (or even a space) than an actual person, and in some ways, she is a monolith. This is a critical point for understanding how the Hierophant of a deck functions. Is the Hierophant a person or a role? Is the Hierophant the leader or the system which he (or she) leads? How much room is there for change or openness to different ideas? The largeness of the rock on which the Hierophant sits offers a sense of an institution that is larger than any individual, but it also puts an emphasis on the stability and permanence of the space (or organization) led by the Hierophant. There’s also a tie to the earth, marking the symbolism of Taurus (fixed earth).

Otherwise, this Hierophant looks quite Hermit-like: she is a figure in undeveloped nature whom others seek out, and it would be easy to misidentify this card as that other spiritual leader. But I think that the Hierophant’s huge size dehumanizes her and thus makes her less like the Hermit because the Hermit is nothing except for himself, whereas the Hierophant is the head of an organization. With the Hierophant, the person becomes less important than the idea or the role. The Hierophant here is also relatively easy to find. Lanterns light the way to the giant rock on which she sits. There is a clear path and, as can be seen by the second figure beneath the rock, others have followed this same path before. This provides a sense of tradition and a right way to approach the Hierophant and her rock, unlike the Hermit who may be harder to find or whose seekers find their own ways. That said, the Hierophant appears nude except for her protected head. That wisdom has a shield around it, and it can’t be easily seen or accessed from the land below. 

An important point to consider in a Hierophant’s depiction is how accessible the Hierophant or the institution is. How accessible is the Hierophant’s wisdom? What gates have been put in place? Who’s included and who’s excluded? What kind of community is possible? In the case of this Hierophant, it’s a small collection of individuals on their appointed path or pilgrimage. There is no sense of a congregation, so the divine teaching naturally feels more personal here than in other depictions, which could be another reason for the Hermit feeling. What’s so special to me about the Hierophant’s strange headpiece (beyond its ability to close others off from her wisdom) is that it mirrors the hood on the pilgrim’s cloak, as if to help the pilgrim see herself in the Hierophant. It makes the Hierophant an accessible role model and something to which the woman can aspire, not just some distant or inhuman organization.


Did you learn something?

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