Scrambled Symbolism: Revisiting the Sepher Yetzirah
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I recently had occasion to revisit the Sepher Yetzirah (Hebrew “Book of Formation”) as part of a discussion about the relationship between the tarot trumps and the 22 paths of the Hermetic Tree of Life.
Once one acclimates to the euphoric “God-talk” and its mystical exhortations, the material in the brief epistle invites what French occultist Eliphas Levi described as a “mathematical” approach to its amalgam of Hebrew letters, numbers, zodiacal signs and planets. It is the original source of all subsequent thinking about the application of those concepts to the cards of the tarot as formulated by the adepts of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and their spiritual forebears.
One thing I found is that the alignment of the seven planets and twelve zodiacal signs to the Hebrew letters does not agree with that proposed by MacGregor Mathers and his compatriots, which makes me wonder whether the Kircher model favored by the Golden Dawn reflects a departure from that of Luria and others which I know to be different (and more trusted by orthodox Kabbalistic scholars). At any rate, the Sepher Yetzirah is silent about much of the Golden Dawn’s occult tinkering, which I assume they merely fabricated via some creative theorizing regarding the Tree and its assumed esoteric underpinnings.
Another point of interest is the handling of the four classical elements of the the Greek philosopher Empedocles — Fire, Water, Air and Earth. In conveying the elemental qualities of the three “mother” letters, the book states that God created Air (Aleph) out of formless Spirit, which in turn yielded Water (Mem), from whence came Fire (Shin); Earth was a “thing apart” that did not figure directly into the initial paradigm and instead brought together the other three to make a four-fold “created” Universe. But it is then observed that Fire forms the “throne of God” and the other elements depend from it as extrusions or “emanations” of the all-powerful Unity.
The four Kabbalistic worlds adopt these elements in descending order: the World of Spirit embodies Fire; the World of Thought partakes of Air; the World of Emotion reflects Water; and the World of Action signifies the “kingdom” of Earth where all comes into concrete manifestation. (There are more theistic terms for these worlds but these are the descriptors most easily understood by esoteric neophytes with only a general tarot background.)
This top-down architecture is at odds with the traditional order of the elements as conveyed by the suits of the tarot. Fire (as Wands) is considered the most subtle, representing inspiration and, by extension, aspiration and initiative; Cups (as Water) is next in purity, representing all aspects of emotion; Swords (and Air) is third, symbolizing everything to do with the intellect (including discord); and the suit of Pentacles (as Earth) expresses the mundane realm of sensation and utilitarian pursuits. In keeping with the Hermetic premise, I have always assumed that Air follows Fire as the second most numinous element, with Water and Earth evolving thereafter in an increasingly stable matrix.
In actual practice this divergence makes little difference since the cards in a reading stand apart from any hierarchical pecking order, and the elements still converge in the form of admirably coherent combinations regardless of which comes first in one archetypal model or the other. There are even authors (Joseph Maxwell is an example) who overturned the whole thing and created their own set of correspondences (Maxwell equated Coins — modern Pentacles — with Air).
Arguments are often made that Air is invisible and therefore more subtle than Fire, so should supplant it in the protean suit of Wands, while the demonstrative physicality of Fire belongs with the more opportunistic suit of Swords. I believe these objections are entirely too mechanistic in their outlook since Fire and Spirit are fundamentally interchangeable in their symbolic purview, and Spirit transcends all.
Such revisionism really accomplishes nothing beyond making its proponents feel good about themselves. Once again I’ll invoke the “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” aphorism; the protocols put in place in the 2nd or 3rd Century CE still work well enough for metaphysical deliberation, and the much later embellishments of the Golden Dawn also remain serviceable for more pragmatic purposes like divination.
The idea that esoteric thought should be a dynamic, “living” thing and not a hidebound one subservient to centuries-old covenants is a reasonable one, but often its champions “throw the baby out with the bathwater” in their insistence upon change for its own sake. Some established conventions should be approached with care and perhaps left undisturbed.
Originally published at http://parsifalswheeldivination.wordpress.com on February 13, 2024.