Friday, April 13, 2007

What is the Truth?

It is known as the endless knot, a star made of five continuous lines, one of the most powerful symbols all over. Pentagram it is called, also named as the symbol of King Solomon and of the Morning Star. First and foremost it stands for the divine in the human, the superconscious, the same as the number 5 and its correspondence in the Tarot, the Hierophant. It is my strongest numerological symbol and I always fancied both, the number and the five-pointed star, even before I knew it had to do with the movements of the planet Venus, my strongest astrological ruler, and the worship of its deity, the goddess of love, Venus/Aphrodite.
I don’t think there is one occult tradition that doesn't use the pentagram's power of connection in its own way: pointing up, for white (spiritual) magic, or pointing down, for black (material) magic. There’s a lot to read about the different meanings and uses of the pentagram, but that’s not the objective of this article. My concern here is to focus on its most universal meaning, as the symbol of truth. Whether it’s as the five virtues or the five elements, the five greatest planets or the five extremities of the human body, it is a whole: when you destroy one point, the others will suffer for it. Just like the pentagram, the truth is intrinsic and absolute, it rules the whole of our being and admits no patchwork. It's the quintessence.
To illustrate this statement, let me tell you about a poem of the 14th century England, concerning one of the knights of King Arthur, entitled Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. The shield you see above is Sir Gawain’s shield. He was the most perfect knight of the Court; therefore, he was truly worthy of having the pentagram on his shield. The Christians considered the Pentagram symbolically akin to the Cross. On the inside of his shield, Gawain had an image of Our Lady, something common among medieval knights, who had a very private devotion to the Mother of God.
One Christmas evening, an enormous knight on his horse rode into the hall of Camelot. He was entirely green, the same for his horse and clothes. It was a magic apparition putting the Christian Court to the test. The Green Knight asked to play a game with one courageous knight of Arthur’s. He had a huge axe and asked the knight to chop his head off; then, after one year and one day, he would look for his home, the Green Chapel, to receive the same treatment. Needless to say, Gawain cut his head off, just to watch him pick it up and ride away laughing.
The challenge was terrible: how could the human Gawain survive such an ordeal? Everybody was sad he was going to die, but it was his task to go on that quest as a representative of his King and Queen, Court and religion. So he left, he went into the wild and suffered the rigors all the knights suffer during their quests. Until one day, after praying to Our Lady for comfort, a wonderful castle appeared before him. Inside it was cosy and warm, and he was received as the famous knight he was, by the very nice owner and his beautiful wife.
Being on a quest is to have an exclusive commitment; therefore, Gawain could not have any other deals until he finished his task. However, the host, in the name of good sport, proposed a game of exchanging gifts: during three days he would go out hunting and Gawain would rest in the castle. In the end of the day they would exchange their winnings. Being Gawain the most courteous knight ever heard of, the lord trusted him completely to stay alone with his wife. Gawain is totally concentrated on his quest and he doesn’t care for the lady; so, he accepts to play the game to please his gracious hosts. Needless to say he’s subjected to the temptations of the lady, whether through reason, desire or emotion, but he always resists her. In the end, all she can do is to kiss him (being polite, he cannot refuse) and when the lord returns with the animals he hunted, he gives him the kisses, in exchange for the meat. He doesn’t have to say where he’s got the kisses and the host doesn’t look concerned about it. After all, it’s a game, and they all know they’re playing. Until then, Gawain is being truthful and winning.
Notwithstanding, during the last day, the lady plays her strongest card. She knows of Gawain’s fears and offers him a magic girdle that will protect him. At first, he refuses, because he cannot accept gifts from a lady without retribution, and he’s already committed to his quest. But the lady asks for no retribution, until the task is done and he returns safely to the castle; then he would be her most trusted knight. Also the girdle was a small piece of simple green cloth, not expensive like a jewel, so he didn’t have to give her another gift in return for it either, she claimed. All he has to do is to wear it under his armour and hide it from her husband.
Gawain accepts. His truth is gone. He hides it from the owner and fails his pact with him; he hides it from the priest in confession; and he hides it from the Green Knight, obviously. His main motivation is to save his life, but he also wants to win, to add to his fame and glory and to please the lady in the end. Unfaithfulness, cowardice, pride, ambition and lust, one sin brings the next, each one of them flat against the Code of Chivalry. By putting his faith in an object instead of in his own truth, Gawain has turned into his opposite.
He finally meets the Green Knight, who lets him go with a small scar on his neck, because his sin was motivated by his will to survive, hence more excusable, so the Green Knight says, after exposing him. What he felt when he realised the Green Knight was the Lord of the Castle and that his wife's behaviour was part of the test, wasn’t that his sin was small and that the scar would heal, but that he had lost something precious forever: he had betrayed all those he represented, because his faith had abandoned him. The Christian knight had lost his faith in the Cross and in Our Lady and put it in a pagan/magical piece of green cloth he didn’t know a thing about. Maybe it was magical, maybe the lady was telling the truth, but that wasn’t the point. He had bowed to a belief that meant nothing to him for the sake of victory. The heathen world had challenged the Christian Court and Gawain failed to prove his religion was the true one. The scar branded on him by the Green Knight (the only one who could give him the penance due) is not enough to soothe his shame. He confesses in front of the whole Court and pledges to wear the girdle everyday over his armour or clothes, so that all will know he’s weak.
Upon hearing that, King Arthur congratulates him for being the best of his knights, because no one else would have done better than he did, and rules that every member of his Court shall wear a girdle like that one from that day onwards, in honour of Gawain’s deeds. And that's how the story ends.
Faith is one of the five points of our truth, and Gawain destroyed his inner star when he misplaced it and pretended otherwise. Yet, the morale of this medieval tale is more than simply Christian; indeed, it's very universal. Gawain is no longer perfect, no longer innocent: he’s a sinner like the rest of the Court (like the rest of us) and that’s why they all wear the girdle. And just like them, he was given by the Christian King, as well as by the Pagan Green Knight, the chance to recognise his fault, pay for it, make amends and start anew, rising again truthful after the fall.
Our truth (the divine in us) is so intrinsically our own, it only dies if we want it to.