Tarot and Religion: Why the Cards Aren’t the Enemy

People often ask me whether Tarot is “compatible” with religion; or more bluntly, whether it’s evil. As someone who reads professionally and also grew up within a Christian cultural framework (and has a very beloved brother-in-law who’s a vicar!), I think it’s time we unpack that a little.

When I’m on my Tarot stall at the market, I often get Christians and Muslims who come over to critique the cards and admonish me for reading them (Jewish folks, in my experience, don’t tend to mind – maybe because Judaism has a more flexible relationship to divination, or maybe they just have better things to do with their time than harass stall holders!). What I find ironic, even a little sad, is that Tarot, as a symbolic system, is incredibly respectful toward, and inclusive of, the Judeo-Christian-Islamic tradition. I know that’s not really the issue – the concern is usually the alleged “witchcraft” or predicting the future – but still, it’s strange to me that a tool so deeply shaped by Biblical imagery is treated as something profane. The cards don’t mock the Testament; they meditate on it.

This tension becomes even clearer when religious institutions try to police who gets to participate in public spaces. Last year, I was told I couldn’t bring my Tarot stall to the evening Christmas markets for the awesome Love Southsea because they were taking place in the cathedral. And it’s not like I wanted to come and do readings at Sunday service, lol, this was just me having a stall at a commercial event alongside other craft vendors and food stalls. If you’re hosting a secular event, my view is: own it. Don’t try to curate a vibe that only includes the kind of spirituality that’s familiar or comfortable. Honestly, I find it baffling that the Church is happy to host people selling bath bombs and mulled wine on sanctified ground, but draws the line at a stall that’s about reflection, conversation, and connection. Didn’t Jesus have a fairly strong opinion on all commercialism in holy spaces? I seem to recall something about moneylenders, whips, and overturned tables?

I also wonder if someone were selling Tibetan prayer flags, or Guatemalan worry dolls, would they be banned? Of course not, because those are considered ‘cultural’ or ‘devotional’ and to ban them would be bad optics for the Church. But Tarot? That’s fair game for suspicion. Apparently cardboard with symbolism is dangerous unless it’s printed by the Vatican. All this implies to me that deciding who the Church can and cannot impugn has less to do with spiritual purity and more to do with PR. 

Even closer to home, I’ve seen how this stigma shapes young people. My niece was curious about Tarot but too frightened to ask me for a reading because her mum (my brother-in-law’s ex) had warned her that it was “devil stuff.” Eventually, she plucked up the courage, and we had a lovely session. The cards offered gentle, affirming advice about her anxiety around starting senior school, and she came away feeling empowered and uplifted. But even then she felt she couldn’t tell her best friend, her mum, because she didn’t want to be accused of witchcraft.

The Tarot as an Abrahamic love letter (sort of)

To return to my first point: for all its association with the “occult”, Tarot is deeply rooted in Western esoteric traditions – and those traditions, in turn, are soaked in Christian, Jewish, and Islamic philosophical and mystical thought. The Major Arcana are full of Biblical archetypes. The High Priestess echoes the Virgin Mary or Sophia, the personification of divine wisdom. The Hierophant channels the Pope, that great gatekeeper of doctrine. Judgement is practically torn from the pages of Revelations, trumpets and all. The Strength card leans into the allegory of the lion [wolf] and the lamb, calling to mind Isaiah’s vision of peace. The Star tips her hat to Stella Maris, Our Lady Star of the Sea, a title given to the Virgin Mary in Catholic tradition. The Sun is positively drenched in resurrection imagery, and the Hermit‘s lantern joyfully echoes the light that “shineth in darkness” and cannot be overcome. I could go on… (And let’s be honest, I probably will 😂).

When the Tarot incorporates this imagery, it’s acknowledging the truth of it. It’s acknowledging that there’s something enduring, something bone-deep, in the way the Bible speaks about humanity’s relationship with the spiritual, the numinous, the divine. This isn’t “demonic” or “evil.” In my view, it’s entirely possible to read the Tarot and feel it drawing you closer towards a Christian understanding of faith, not pulling you further from it.

The Hermetic Qabalah, which profoundly influenced the Golden Dawn – and by extension the OG creators of modern Tarot like Waite and Crowley – borrows heavily from Jewish Kabbalistic mysticism. But this isn’t a direct copy-and-paste job. It’s filtered through layers of Neoplatonism, Christian esotericism, and Western philosophy. The result is a syncretic system that’s fascinated by divine order, symbolic correspondences, and the structure of the soul, all ideas that resonate with (rather than reject) Abrahamic cosmology.

And… just… vibes! Angels, redemption, temptation, divine law – the entire mythic framework of the Tarot is a meditation on salvation, fall, grace, and will. Tarot isn’t giving the finger to the Abrahamic religions – it’s grappling with their deepest tensions. It’s rich with Christian mysticism (hello Meister Eckhart and Hildegard von Bingen), Sufi thought (e.g. divine love in the Lovers, or fana (ego dissolution) in the World), and Talmudic reflection (many spreads reward a midrash-style questioning: layered, interpretive, and deeply dialogic).

Tarot isn’t blasphemy, it’s conversation. It’s midrash, it’s metaphor, it’s Lectio Divina in picture form. And, the way I practice, it’s also about holding space for people to be heard. To feel listened to, to feel seen, to feel comforted. These are experiences common to all religions, and, at the same time, bigger than any single path to truth or peace. To paraphrase The Beatles: our individual journey toward enlightenment is “bigger than Jesus.”

I’ve read for people who are grieving, scared, stuck, hopeful, curious. They don’t come for incantations. They come for insight. For stories. For meaning. To dismiss that as “evil” says more about the fears of organised religion than it does about the cards themselves.

A little note on divination in the Bible

Yes, I know, Tarot often gets lumped under the Biblical prohibitions against divination. There are verses, particularly in the Old Testament (like Deuteronomy 18:10-12 and Leviticus 19:26), that warn against fortune-telling, sorcery, and “interpreting omens.” But it’s worth noting a few things.

First: the historical context. These passages were about distancing ancient Israelites from the magical and religious practices of surrounding cultures, particularly the Canaanites. They were written in a time when divination was tied to idol worship, necromancy (literally sticking bones in your mouth and trying to channel the previous owner to speak with your tongue), or attempts to control divine will. What these verses are objecting to is power without relationship: magic as manipulation. That’s very different from using symbolic tools to help ask better questions, reflect deeply, or listen for wisdom.

In fact, the Bible is full of divinatory practices when they’re done in partnership with God. Take the Urim and Thummim from Exodus 28: ancient stones carried in the High Priest’s breastplate. When people needed divine guidance, the priest would ask God a yes/no question, reach in, and pull out one of the stones. One meant “yes.” The other meant “no.” It wasn’t random, it was expected that God would guide the result.

In their book Discovering Christian Witchcraft, Emyle Prata and Sara Raztresen point out that there’s also a form of divination, known as cleromancy, which crops up a lot in the Bible. Cleromancy involves seeking answers through lots, stones, or dice. You’ll even find it in the New Testament, in Acts 1:23–26. The apostles cast lots to decide who should replace Judas. But before they do, they pray:

“Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which of these two you have chosen…”
(Acts 1:24–25)

They didn’t cast lots for fun. They believed God would speak through the symbol. Which sounds a lot like divination to me! Or a lot like, you know, using a symbolic ritual to help make sense of the truths you already have in your heart.

Second: Jesus himself had a more complex approach. He says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” (John 14:6), sure, but he also has no issue engaging spiritually with outsiders. The Samaritan woman at the well is a great example. He doesn’t say “Go convert.” He says, “Worship in spirit and in truth.”

And thirdly: the Bible, particularly the Old Testament, says a lot of problematic shit that many modern religious folks are happy to gloss over. It really makes me annoyed when people take a canteen-Christian approach to which bits they’ll dollop on their plates today, and which ones they’ll ignore. I know it’s a tired old argument, but why decide that Tarot cards are evil because of something in Leviticus, while ignoring the bit from that very same book that says you can’t eat prawns or wear a cotton-blend t-shirt? Or the bit that says menstruating women should sacrifice a dove to atone for their unclean uterus? If you’re picking and choosing which verses to enforce, maybe you’re the one dabbling in interpretation.

I don’t use Tarot to predict the future or bypass faith. I use it to reflect. To think. To listen better: to myself, to others, and sometimes, maybe, to something sacred. That’s not divination. That’s discernment.

So why the “witchcraft” panic?

It’s not really about the Tarot’s content, IMO, it’s about control and (perceived) threat.

Tarot gives individuals a tool for discernment and agency. That alone threatens religious authorities, who favour centralised, mediated access to the divine. Tarot is also often coded as feminine, folk, queer, pagan – which makes it more ‘dangerous’ to traditionalists, never big fans of anyone outside the cishet male ideal.

Yes, Tarot is used widely within New Age and occult movements (and that’s great! I love my witchy sisters!) But that doesn’t make the cards themselves “demonic.” Symbols aren’t evil, they’re interpretive tools. And theologically speaking, I’d argue that Tarot isn’t antithetical to faith at all. Many readers are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist: they just engage with their spirituality in personal, symbolic, and admittedly sometimes unorthodox ways.

My standard response now at my stall is this: “Tarot doesn’t replace belief – it helps me reflect on how I live in relation to what I believe. The symbols ask questions more than they give answers. That’s something your own tradition honours too, right?”

We’ve always reached for symbols. Whether carved in stone, painted on parchment, printed on cards, or edged in lead on a stained glass window, they help us ask the biggest questions in ways that words alone often can’t.

At its heart, Tarot is a tool for reflection, not rebellion. And reflection, last I checked, isn’t a sin.

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