At first glance, Darby (name changed for privacy) and I don’t appear to have much in common. I’m a crucifix-wearing Catholic, and her minivan has a big, yellow bumper sticker that reads, “My Other Car is a Broom.” I work as a Catholic writer, and Darby reads tarot cards for a living. But Darby and I are more alike than you’d think. We both believe in realities we can’t see or prove. And that’s just for starters.
I met Darby at my local park years ago when we were both pushing toddlers on swings. She had a great laugh and was happy to swap tips about meal prepping and soothing colicky babies. When Darby offered to do my psychic reading with tarot cards, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “I can’t. That’s opposed to my faith.”
The moment was awkward to say the least. But Darby nodded respectfully and changed the subject. Still, I wasn’t happy with my answer and wanted to do better next time. So, later that night, a quick search of the Catechism cleared things up. I had always known that tarot cards, Ouija boards, astrology, witchcraft, and psychic readings were opposed to my faith, but I didn’t know why.
The Church makes it clear in paragraphs 2115 to 2117 of the Catechism, which, in summary, explain how such practices violate the First Commandment (“You shall have no other gods before me”). Knowing the future and divination are powers for God alone—not man. While lengthy, I’ve copied the Catechism passages in entirety at the bottom of this article because in this day and age, when occult practices are on the rise, it’s important to be able to dialogue on the subject responsibly.
After doing research about Darby’s profession, I remember walking away from the computer and looking forward to the chance to talk to her again about it. But the fact is—the subject has never come up. Darby hasn’t approached me about it. When we hang out, we’re too busy talking about our kids and cooking and all the countless things we have in common as moms.
I certainly haven’t avoided the topics of tarot cards and witchcraft with Darby. I’m actually greatly concerned about her involvement in these things. Furthermore, I sense that a deep spiritual longing in Darby’s heart has become misconstrued, and in the process, she’s opened herself and her family to very dark forces. For this reason, every time I say the St. Michael Prayer, I turn toward her house and say it over her and her family.
While I haven’t avoided talking to Darby about her profession, I haven’t forced the conversation either. Every time I listen to the Holy Spirit’s leading on the matter, I have the sense to remain silent and to pray harder. Time and again, I’ve seen that my prayers are far more powerful than my words. As Christians, God calls us to be salt and light (Mt. 5:13–16). And I find that salt tastes best when sprinkled lightly. The same goes for light—no one likes to be blinded by a glaring flood lamp.
So, my friendship with Darby is a gift. It’s one based on unconditional love and mutual respect, where time and again Darby is a blessing to me in countless, practical ways. She’s dropped off meals in times of distress. She’s been a listening ear in the face of tragedy. We both have loved ones who have autism spectrum disorder, and she’s taught me so much about patience and having a sense of humor about the particular trials we face.
Of course, I’d be careful about Darby’s beliefs influencing my own kids, and I’m sure she feels the same way about me. But we don’t have the need to lean on each other for babysitting, so it’s not an issue. Also, as I already mentioned, Darby’s never invited me to participate in her profession again. And yet she doesn’t flinch when I ask her if I can pray over her in times of distress. Actually, she seems to welcome it.
Lately, when I think about Darby, the Magi come to mind. Many people believe these three wise men who followed a star to baby Jesus were priests of the Zoroastrian religion, and that they studied astronomy and astrology. Yet God still used them as instruments of His grace. And that’s what Darby is in my life—an instrument of grace. I hope she’d say the same thing about me.
Excerpts on the Occult, Witchcraft, Tarot Cards, and Astrology from the Catechism of the Catholic Church
God can reveal the future to his prophets or to other saints. Still, a sound Christian attitude consists in putting oneself confidently into the hands of Providence for whatever concerns the future, and giving up all unhealthy curiosity about it. Improvidence, however, can constitute a lack of responsibility. (CCC 2115)
All forms of divination are to be rejected: recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead or other practices falsely supposed to “unveil” the future. Consulting horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, interpretation of omens and lots, the phenomena of clairvoyance, and recourse to mediums all conceal a desire for power over time, history, and, in the last analysis, other human beings, as well as a wish to conciliate hidden powers. They contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone. (CCC 2116)
All practices of magic or sorcery, by which one attempts to tame occult powers, so as to place them at one’s service and have a supernatural power over others—even if this were for the sake of restoring their health—are gravely contrary to the virtue of religion. These practices are even more to be condemned when accompanied by the intention of harming someone, or when they have recourse to the intervention of demons. Wearing charms is also reprehensible. Spiritism often implies divination or magical practices; the Church for her part warns the faithful against it. Recourse to so-called traditional cures does not justify either the invocation of evil powers or the exploitation of another’s credulity. (CCC 2117)
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