The oppression of habit

Slowly, slowly, i've been starting to apply all of my Tarot studies to practical readings. I've been using the Medieval Scapini deck, which interested me originally because of Ronald Decker's delightful little review of Tarot history, "Art and Arcana." Scapini's Minor Arcana differ quite a bit from the Rider-Waite-Smith deck's, which came up in particular with two cards from last night's reading: the 8 of Swords and the 8 of Wands. When i started writing this post, i caught myself conflating versions of those two cards from different decks; i'll explain this below.

For the 8 of Swords, the RWS deck depicts (according to Rachel Pollack, a student of that deck) "oppression," but not in the form of naked violence. (The fortification looms in the background, but no one holds up the swords or guards the prisoner.) It refers instead to "mystification" in the Marxist sense, where the oppressed "oppress themselves" by their own assumptions (reinforced by misinformation from above). (Why else would people on the edge of poverty staple tea bags to their hats and protest government handouts?) Scapini's 8 of Wands shows instead what seems a more pleasant scene in a vineyard (the wands cleverly woven into sakes for the vines). A couple appears in three stages of romantic development: youthful games, courting, and squabbling.

It took me a while to realize that Scapini's 8 of Wands illustrates a darker phenomenon, namely the oppression of instinct, custom, or habit. The couple in that card acts only according to biological and social expectation, not according to Will (to which Wands ultimately refer). This too is Will, but only the dark will of the blood and the unfolding of the mother's and father's example. The similarity with the RWS 8 of Swords is that the self imposes bondage: to a position in the RWS 8 of Swords, or to a scheme of human relations in Scapini's 8 of Wands.

This pair of cards speaks to two different views on moral enlightenment, which amount to the same thing. A Marxist might say that proletarians must see through the false assumptions and misinformation in order to attain the social order they desire. A traditional mystic might say instead that the patterns of the blood (biological or familial) must be discarded when they hinder the desired development of the spiritual life. Both the mystic and the Marxist speak of the triumph of True Will over lesser wills. Wands and Swords offer two complementary techniques for achieving this: "seizing the Wand" (taking the first step, overcoming lethargy, daring) and "cutting through the veil" (discernment, Scheidekunst in the good sense).

Lent is a good season to attack lethargy, habit, and misinformation. May i use it fruitfully for this purpose, and through grace attain that perfect correspondence of Divine and human Will, Amen.

Theoria and praxis, distillation and inspiration

We love books.  While we haven't quite stooped to keeping books in our oven, our little apartment has long ago run out of shelf space.  Books stack in precarious piles around the edges of the living room and reach for the ceiling on top of shelves.  Many of these are spiritual and mystical books, ranging from the most orthodox of orthodox Christianity (St. Francis de Sales' "Introduction to the Devout Life") to the least orthodox (but perhaps more interesting!).  I've read all of them, some several times, but i can't say that i've truly absorbed the implications of any of them.  St. Maximus the Confessor said that "Theology without action (praxis) is the theology of demons."  I don't think i know any more about demonic theology than i do about angelic theology, so perhaps i missed out on the content as well as the implications!

Anyhow, the point is that i look back on my ~ 15 years of devotional study, and wonder what "progress" i made.  I did certainly mature from a pious but naïve youth to a more open-minded, broadly educated adult (who finally finished school not long ago, after an education of nearly epic length!).  My religious perspectives certainly have changed.  I can't say that i'm a kinder person, that i'm more charitable (not just in the "dropping money in the basket" way), that i'm any closer to getting in touch with the Divine -- but perhaps this is because my work and familial responsibilities demand more attention and resources.  There are those books, though, mocking me.

I was thinking about that this morning when i drew two cards out of the Tarot deck:  Temperance and the Star (the latter link might be a bit NSFW if your boss can't handle nonsexual art nudes).  (I took the images from Wikipedia's depiction of the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, which i don't use, though i like Pamela Colman Smith's artwork.)  Temperance and the Star both depict a female figure with two water vessels in the midst of pouring.  The difference is that Temperance transfers liquid from one vessel to the other, while the Star pours them out, one upon the waters and the other upon the earth.  One can understand the water here as inspiration or the "stuff" of spirituality.  Pouring it between containers is an allegory of distillation or refinement (compare the alembic); pouring it out is an allegory of divine or heavenly inspiration.  Distillation and inspiration aren't opposites, but they do involve different agents.  The former is the work of the mystic or "spiritual alchemist" who refines received ideas,  extracting out the "aqua vitae" ("water of life" -- the "living essence" of the idea).  The latter comes from above.  The Star's work happens in secret, at night, without an obvious human agent to receive the results.  (Perhaps our mystic slept too soundly and missed a midnight date with Lady Star!)


The previous two paragraphs introduced two dualities: theoria and praxis, distillation and inspiration.  I would certainly be overextending my rhetorical abilities to put them in correspondence.  They do make an interesting constellation of analogies for understanding how the "stuff" of spiritual life flows around and through a person.  Collected inspiration can be refined and purified through the work of Temperance or nepsis (spiritual sobriety -- the virtue keeping one on the hard, long, but ultimately rewarding path).  Theory has practical implications, and practice influences and inspires theory. 


The personal implication is the necessity of patience in one's spiritual growth.  Inspiration comes when it wills, not when i will.  Distilling it is a lifelong internal work.  Careful praxis may take time to work out, so that it forms a partnership with theoria, rather than fighting against it.  (Just because some group is oppressed, doesn't mean one should immediately rush the barricades with them!)  Perhaps this is only self-justification, but it also seems wise to be patient with one's one nature.  If it takes me a long time to gather and to distill, to refine myself and my ideas, then as long as i'm following the path of true spiritual sobriety, i should let things develop naturally.