
Astrology, Mythology, and Catholic Faith: A Reorientation
As a recently returning Catholic, I have undergone a major spiritual and intellectual shift: a commitment to moving away from predictive, or judicial, astrology in light of my renewed faith. This has been a gradual and difficult process, as reflected in my last few YouTube videos, where you can clearly see me wrestling with the incongruity. However, the shift probably started with my decision to end yearly horoscopes in 2020 and then reducing the frequency of astrology readings as they felt increasingly uncomfortable and spiritually incompatible.
During the COVID lockdowns, I had time away from readings and opened my Etsy shop, Heavenly and Holy, which became an important new source of income. I began attending Mass in 2023 and was deeply moved by the traditional services. However, I struggled to maintain the state of grace needed for communion, unaware at the time of the Church’s teaching on astrology. I later learned its gravity.
While astrology once served as a framework for understanding life’s events and seeking meaning, I have come to recognize that predictive astrology is fundamentally incompatible with Catholic teaching, particularly as articulated by Thomas Aquinas and the broader scholastic tradition. Yet, rather than abandoning the symbolic dimension of astrology altogether, I have turned toward a more reflective engagement with mythology—particularly the archetypal figures of the asteroid goddesses—as a way of exploring the human psyche without falling into the errors of divination.
The Scholastic Distinction: Natural vs. Judicial Astrology
The medieval Church distinguished between two kinds of astrology. Natural astrology referred to the study of how celestial bodies influence the physical world—tides, seasons, weather, even bodily humors and temperaments. This was considered a legitimate field of natural philosophy. Judicial astrology, by contrast, claimed to predict human affairs, choices, and destinies based on the stars. It was this predictive form that the Church consistently rejected as spiritually dangerous and philosophically unsound.
Thomas Aquinas offers one of the clearest articulations of this distinction in the Summa Theologiae. In Part I, Question 115, Article 4, he addresses whether the heavenly bodies are the cause of human acts. He acknowledges that the stars have real effects on the material world:
“The majority of men follow their passions, which are movements of the sensitive appetite, in which movements the influence of the heavenly bodies is felt. Few are the wise who by reason resist their passions. Therefore, astrologers are able to forecast the truth in the majority of cases, especially in general matters, but not in particular cases, which depend on the reason or will.” (ST I, Q115, a.4)
Here Aquinas draws a crucial distinction. While the stars may incline bodily dispositions—shaping temperament, moods, or tendencies—they cannot determine the rational will. Human beings remain free, capable of resisting passions through reason. As he summarizes:
“Man has free-will, which is not subject to the stars. Hence it is that the astrologers themselves say that ‘the wise man rules the stars,’ forasmuch as he rules his passions.” (ST I, Q115, a.4, ad 3)
This position is often summarized by the phrase astra inclinant, non necessitant—“the stars incline, they do not compel.” While not Aquinas’s exact wording, it captures his teaching: the heavens may influence, but they cannot dictate moral choice.
Theological Dangers of Judicial Astrology
For Aquinas, judicial astrology was not merely a scientific error but a spiritual danger. To attribute human choices or destinies to the stars undermines free will, moral responsibility, and, most importantly, divine providence. In Summa Contra Gentiles (III, c.88), he insists that although celestial bodies may affect human passions, “the free will of man has power to resist them. And so the stars are not a sufficient cause of human acts.”
Moreover, Aquinas warns that demons can manipulate astrological signs to deceive human beings, further illustrating the spiritual risks of divinatory practices. This concern echoes Scriptural prohibitions against divination (Deuteronomy 18:10–12), the mocking of astrologers in Isaiah 47:13–14, and Jeremiah 10:2’s command not to fear the “signs of the heavens.” The Catechism of the Catholic Church follows this line, stating:
“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… contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone.” (CCC §2116)
Thus, predictive astrology stands in contradiction both to reason, by denying human freedom, and to revelation, by usurping trust that belongs to God alone.
Archetypal Myth and the Asteroid Goddesses
Yet Aquinas’s rejection of judicial astrology does not require abandoning symbolic or mythological reflection on the heavens. In fact, his allowance for natural influences leaves open the possibility of considering the stars and myths in a non-divinatory way, as part of the broader symbolic language of creation.
In the modern era, depth psychologists such as Carl Jung and James Hillman have developed a symbolic or archetypal approach to astrology. Here, celestial figures are not read as determinants of fate but as archetypes that resonate with the human psyche. Asteroid goddesses like Ceres and Pallas Athena offer particularly rich mythological material for self-reflection. To contemplate these myths is not to predict the future but to engage the imagination in dialogue with timeless symbols.
This practice aligns more closely with literature, art, or psychology than with divination. It treats myth as a mirror of the soul rather than a script of destiny. In this sense, exploring the asteroid goddesses through their myths can enrich self-understanding while remaining faithful to the Catholic prohibition against judicial astrology.
Conclusion
My return to the Catholic Church has required me to relinquish predictive astrology, in obedience to both Scripture and the Church’s magisterial teaching. Guided by Aquinas, I now see clearly that while the stars may incline bodily dispositions, they do not compel the will, and to treat them as determinants of fate is to fall into error. At the same time, my love for symbolic meaning and myth remains intact. By turning to the goddess myths and their archetypal resonances, I can create evergreen content that honors the imagination, deepens psychological reflection, and respects the boundaries set by faith.