The Fairy Tale Sermons: Hermes

I've had most of this particular story written out for over a year now, waiting for the right moment to post it. Given the liminal nature of Hermes, I think posting right as I'm on the verge of moving seems wholly appropriate.

I appeal to the Muses to grant me the eloquence to tell this story true. Do you know the tale of Hermes? In Greek mythology, he was messenger of the gods. With his winged sandals, he was quite literally light on his feet, flying between the heavenly Olympus and the mortal realm below. But if he was quick on his feet, he was quicker with his wits.

There's a story that says he was no more than a few hours old when he snuck out of his cradle and into the pastures where the sun god Apollo kept his cattle. Using a tree branch to cover their tracks, he led the entire herd to a field way up in the mountains.

Now, as you can imagine, Apollo wasn't very happy when, on a break from his godly duties, he checked on his herd to find them all gone with not a trace of where they went. But Apollo was a prescient god, with the power of premonition, able to see things most people couldn't and he knew that Hermes had something to do with his cattle's disappearance. So, with all the wrath of a raging god, he burst into the nursery, demanding the return of his herd.

Ah, but the sly Hermes was prepared for Apollo's eventual arrival.

“What do you mean return your cattle,” he said, “I'm but a newborn babe. How could I steal them?”

Apollo would have none of this.

“I know you have them. Return my herds at once!” thundered the angry Apollo.

“But sweet Apollo, where could I hide all your cattle? Here in my crib? The thought alone is preposterous.”

Undeterred, Apollo replied, “Fine, if you shall not admit to thieving what is rightfully mine, we will have to take this matter before Father Zeus.”

He seized the infant Hermes and carried him all the way before the throne of Zeus, king of the gods.

“Father, this rogue child has made off with my prized cattle and refuses to return to me what is mine!”

Turning to the young child, Zeus asked, “Did you steal Apollo's herd?”

“I do not have Apollo's cattle, oh wise and mighty Zeus, though even in what short time I have been on this earth I have heard of the wondrous size and strength that befits the property of one as glorious as Lord Apollo. I am but a newborn babe, how could I steal from one so honored as he?”

Said Zeus, “You may be but a babe, but never were you innocent, Hermes. Apollo, I am sorry but if you have no further proof beyond your word against his, then I cannot take any further action.”

Just as Apollo began to protest, he stopped and stared at Hermes.

“What is that you have in your hands?”

Hermes held up the instrument in his hands. It was a tortoise shell with strings threaded across its length. He'd been fiddling with it on the floor during the discussion.

“I call it a lyre.”

“Lord Zeus, I will forgive him his trespass and let all be settled with regards to the circumstances of the disappearance of my herd if he gives me this lyre.”

Zeus turned to Hermes.

“Do you assent to this, child?”

“I do.”

The lyre came to be a prominent symbol and representation of Apollo as a god of music.

Hermes, in addition to his roles as messenger of the gods and psychopomp, became patron god of merchants and thieves, of inventors and travelers.

The lesson here is not one against stealing, because Hermes is very clearly rewarded for his trickery.

Instead, this tale suggests acceptance. Not of unacceptable deeds, and I'm very careful here not to use the term bad as a value statement on the act (the taking of another's property without permission) because this narrative has played out many times in reality with no consequence and few if any of us call these actions bad. Colonization is a good example.

No, the acceptance I speak of is an acceptance of change.

Heraclitus is famously attributed as having written that the only constant is change. In this story, Hermes is a manifestation of change. As a liminal god already standing at the brink in-between lives and stories even in his origins, Hermes transitions us from one narrative to another. Quite literally in his role as psychopomp, escorting us to the underworld.

Two stories

Let me tell you a story that goes like this:

I am a Virgo. Maiden daughter of the mother earth. Mercury rules my house. He is my lord but not my master, he who plays dice with the fortunes of the world.

Do you know the story of Astraea? She carried the scales of justice, a maiden pure and strong and when evil was unleashed upon the world, she was the last to leave. She became Virgo when she ascended to the stars.

Tonight I am feeling her influence. Tonight I have risen.

The invisible trickster is home, that wise fool on winged feet.

I am caretaker of the harvest and the sustenance. I provide.

Tells you another story:

There once was a knight named Tam Lin or Tom Line. He was cursed and captured by the fairie and roamed the forests, capturing the maidenhood of passing girls.

It came to pass that one day a maid passed through and found this knight. As the story goes, Janet, for that was her name, picked a rose, thus summoning the wandering knight. He took her and as is want to happen, she fell in love. But it was not to be because he belonged to the Queen of the Fairies.

If she truly loved him, she would save him from this eternal damnation as a plaything of the Fey. At the next full moon (or some other relevant holiday or event) he would passing through the same stretch of forest where this maid met him in the entourage of the Fairy Queen.

She would recognize him for his white horse.

Janet was lost to Tam as much as he was lost to the Fairy, so sure enough she showed up and upon seeing her love, she seized him as instructed. The Fairy in the kind of cruel games that they play, transformed him into all manner of beasts. He became a serpent and a bear and a wolf and a pig and an eagle and a fish.

But Janet's love was fiercer still and no matter what he became, she held on. Eventually he became a burning coal that Janet threw into a nearby well. He emerged a naked man, a mortal once more, and Janet won her knight, much to the displeasure of the Fairy Queen.

And of course they lived happily ever after, immortalized in song.