Don’t Blame Mercury: Why Catholics Don’t Need the Universe to Explain Our Lives
Mercury is in retrograde.
Suddenly your awful week has a plot.
The printer dies five minutes before you need 40 copies. Someone stops texting back. Your travel plans fall apart. Your laptop decides it has had enough. Maybe you send a text you absolutely should not have sent.
Blame Mercury?
In this episode of Rebel Saints, we're talking about Mercury retrograde, astrology, horoscopes, manifestation, signs, discernment and why human beings are so attracted to the idea that the universe can explain what is happening to us.
Because the desire behind a lot of this is understandable. When life feels unpredictable, explanations can be comforting. If there's a pattern, maybe we can understand it. If we can understand it, maybe we can prepare for what's coming.
Catholicism doesn't ask us to pretend the universe has no mystery. God created it.
What Christianity asks us to reconsider is where we look for answers about our future, our identity and the meaning of our lives.
And, because Catholic history is never boring, we're also going down a Renaissance rabbit hole involving popes, astrologers and an actual foundation horoscope for St. Peter's Basilica.
Yes. Really.
In this episode
We get into:
What Mercury retrograde actually is — and why Mercury isn't really moving backward
Why astrology can feel especially appealing when life feels uncertain
What the Catholic Church actually teaches about astrology, horoscopes and divination
The surprisingly complicated history of astrology and Renaissance Catholicism
Pope Julius II and the astrological timing connected to the foundation of St. Peter's Basilica
Providence and our desire to know what happens next
The difference between prayer and trying to predict the future
A spontaneous horoscope-versus-Scripture experiment
Whether something is really a “sign from God” — or possibly just your algorithm
The problem hiding inside manifestation culture
Astrology, personality tests and the Christian understanding of identity
Prudence: possibly the least sexy Catholic answer to Mercury retrograde
Why an examination of conscience gives us something astrology cannot
St. Anthony, intercession and the difference between Catholic devotion and superstition
The question behind the episode
The Catechism's discussion of divination begins with something more interesting than a list of forbidden practices.
It begins with Providence.
The Christian response to the future is ultimately an act of trust. We can plan. We can use reason. We can read the contract, back up the computer and make thoughtful decisions.
What we don't get is complete control.
And maybe that's part of astrology's appeal. We want to know before we act. We want certainty. We want to peek behind the curtain.
Christianity keeps bringing us back to something harder: trust God, make the wisest decision you can, take responsibility for your choices and keep going.
There's no birth chart that's going to get us out of being human.
Your algorithm is not necessarily a sign from God
There's another wrinkle to discernment that previous generations didn't have to contend with: algorithms.
If you pray about whether you should break up with someone and TikTok immediately serves you six relationship videos, remember that TikTok may also have watched you linger over hundreds of breakup videos.
Catholics believe God guides us. That doesn't mean every coincidence is a divine message.
Discernment can involve prayer, Scripture, Church teaching, reason, trusted counsel, attention to what's actually happening and — sometimes — simply giving something time.
The problem with manifestation
Manifestation culture can sound relentlessly positive: good vibes, protecting your energy, attracting the life you want.
But there's a troubling implication if we take the idea far enough.
If our thoughts supposedly create the good things that happen to us, what are we supposed to conclude when someone gets sick, loses a job, suffers heartbreak or experiences something terrible?
Christian prayer offers something very different.
Prayer isn't a technique for making an impersonal universe comply with our wishes. It's a relationship with Someone.
The universe doesn't love you. It can't. God does.
And then there's prudence
Some of the advice attached to Mercury retrograde is actually pretty good.
Read the contract. Back up your computer. Think before sending the text. Double-check your travel plans.
Excellent.
You just don't need Mercury to tell you to do any of it.
The Catholic tradition calls us to prudence: learning to discern what is actually good in the circumstances in front of us and choosing the right way to pursue it.
You may not know exactly how everything will turn out.
You can still learn to make better decisions with the information you have.
What about St. Anthony?
Catholics absolutely lose their keys and yell, “St. Anthony!”
So why is asking a saint for help different from astrology or superstition?
Because Catholic intercession isn't supposed to manipulate a cosmic force. When Catholics ask St. Anthony for help, we're asking him to pray for us, just as we ask another Christian to pray for us.
A saint isn't magic. A prayer isn't an incantation.
And if we start treating Catholic devotions as formulas that obligate God to produce exactly the result we want, we've managed to drag superstition right into the vestibule.
For more on Anthony himself, listen to the previous Rebel Saints episode: Lessons from Saint Anthony on Catholic Faith, Failure, and Finding Your Voice.
One last thing
God created the cosmos.
The cosmos cannot care about you.
Mercury doesn't know your name.
God does.
So read the contract. Back up your computer. Think before texting your ex. Practice prudence. Trust Providence.
And don't blame Mercury.
References & further reading
Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2115–2117 — Divination and magic
The Church's teaching on Providence, divination, horoscopes, astrology, clairvoyance, mediums, magic and attempts to unveil or control the future.
Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1804–1806 — The human virtues and prudence
The Catechism's discussion of the cardinal virtues and prudence as practical reason directed toward discerning and choosing the good.
Pope Benedict XVI, Verbum Domini, no. 87
A helpful explanation of Lectio Divina and its movement through reading, meditation, prayer and contemplation.
Isaiah 19:1–4
The passage I encountered during the Scripture portion of the episode, including its references to idols, charmers, ghosts and clairvoyants.
Psalm 19
“The heavens declare the glory of God” — an important distinction in this conversation: creation can reveal the glory of its Creator without becoming the source from which we seek control over our future.
NASA — What does it mean for Mercury to be in retrograde?
An explanation of apparent retrograde motion and why Mercury does not physically reverse its orbit.
Mary Quinlan-McGrath, “The Foundation Horoscope(s) for St. Peter's Basilica, Rome, 1506: Choosing a Time, Changing the Storia,” Isis, Vol. 92, No. 4 (2001), pp. 716–741.
Academic research into the horoscope associated with the April 18, 1506 foundation ceremony for the new St. Peter's Basilica and the selection of its time.
National Endowment for the Humanities — “The Horoscope of St. Peter's”
Background on the foundation horoscope for St. Peter's Basilica and Renaissance astrological practice.
A note about the Scripture experiment in this episode
During the episode, I describe what I'm doing as Lectio Divina and spontaneously open my Bible to a passage rather than choosing one beforehand.
A clarification: randomly opening the Bible is not itself a step of Lectio Divina. Traditional Lectio Divina is prayerful reading of Scripture that moves through reading (lectio), meditation (meditatio), prayer (oratio) and contemplation (contemplatio). In this episode, I spontaneously selected the Scripture passage and then used it as an opportunity for prayer and reflection.
I'm leaving the moment in the episode because my reaction was genuine — and because correcting myself when I describe a Catholic practice imprecisely matters, too.
Rebel Saints is a Catholic podcast for restless hearts called to be saints.
If this episode made you think, send it to someone who has ever blamed Mercury for a bad week.
There is nothing more punk than Catholicism.
FULL EPISODE TRANSCRIPT
Don’t Blame Mercury: Why Catholics Don’t Need the Universe to Explain Our Lives
This transcript has been lightly edited for readability while preserving the conversation and language of the recorded episode.
Mercury Is in Retrograde
Hey Rebels, welcome to Rebel Saints Podcast. I'm your host, Nicole.
If you're here for honest conversations about the Catholic faith, saints, and how to actually live this stuff in our world today, then you have found the right place.
Today we're going to be talking about Mercury in retrograde.
How this idea came to me was I was driving home and I had about a two-hour commute. So, I love a podcast, and I hadn't listened to this one particular show in a couple of weeks. This episode probably was recorded sometime in July because the host was talking about how everything was so crazy and basically blamed it on the fact that Mercury was in retrograde.
I know what that phrase means. I have been alive on the internet. I've seen the memes. And there was a time in my teens when I really got into astrology and all of this stuff. So, I get it. I understand how it can become so important to somebody.
But when people say Mercury is in retrograde, I know what the woo-woo stuff is, but scientifically I was like: The planet? It just starts going backward? It reverses? What exactly is happening there?
Because I was driving in my car and there are, I don't know, a bunch of computers in it, I asked one of them, “Hey, what exactly is Mercury in retrograde? What is the scientific explanation?”
And you know what? The answer was so anticlimactic. It was actually very disappointing.
Mercury does not start moving backward.
Retrograde motion is an optical illusion. Earth and Mercury are moving around the sun at different speeds, and from our perspective, Mercury occasionally appears to slow down, stop, and move backward against the background of our sky.
But it's not actually moving backward.
It just looks like it is.
That's it.
And this is where I got hung up. How do we get from a planet looking like it's moving backward to warnings about signing contracts, buying electronics, starting relationships or, God forbid, texting your ex—which, generally speaking, is probably something you should avoid?
Because my brain works the way it does, somewhere between that podcast and the road I was driving on, I thought: There's a Rebel Saints episode in this.
Because Mercury in retrograde is just one piece of a puzzle happening in the greater culture we live in: astrology, birth charts, manifesting, tarot, angel numbers, asking someone what their sign is before deciding whether you can trust them.
Some people do believe this stuff. And if you do, and you've made it here, this is not an episode where I'm going to shame you or anything like that. You are certainly allowed to believe what you believe.
I'm just hoping you stick around to hear my pitch for something else.
That's all.
Why Astrology Is So Appealing
Like I said, when I was a teen, I got really into this stuff.
I'm a Cubanish girl from Miami, and growing up, there was this guy named Walter Mercado who was very into this. I can remember riding the bus in the morning or watching him at night on TV and sitting and waiting to hear our horoscope for that week or whatever it was.
So I say this con mucho, mucho amor—with a lot of love, straight from my heart. I'm super excited that you're spending your time with me here and getting into this topic.
When I come across a horoscope today, I read it, laugh when something sounds vaguely accurate and then, I don't know, go make a Pop-Tart or whatever.
Because I don't think screaming “occult!” anytime someone mentions any of these things or asks you what your sun sign is is particularly helpful.
But I do think Catholics should understand what astrology is offering people. Because if there were nothing appealing about it, people wouldn't keep coming back to it.
Think about this phrase for a second:
Mercury is in retrograde.
Suddenly, your awful week has a plot.
If the printer randomly stops working five minutes before you need 40 copies, there's a reason.
The person you've been dating didn't suddenly become distant because human relationships are complicated.
And you most certainly did not send that text after polishing off a glass of wine, getting all in your feelings and probably needing somebody to brick your phone before you poured that first glass.
Obviously, I'm joking.
But having an explanation for things can be incredibly comforting.
We are constantly trying to make sense of what happens to us, especially when life starts feeling unpredictable. If there is a pattern, maybe we can understand it.
If we can understand it, maybe we can prepare for it.
And that desire, Rebels, is very human.
It's also really old.
Catholics Aren't Afraid of the Stars
Long before TikTok astrologers, people were looking at the sky and trying to understand what it meant.
Christianity has never taught that the heavens are meaningless.
We believe God created them.
Psalm 19 says the heavens declare the glory of God. The Magi saw a star and followed it to Bethlehem. The Church even uses movements of the heavens in calculating parts of the liturgical calendar.
In other words, Catholicism isn't afraid of the stars.
We actually like them quite a bit.
The problem begins when creation stops pointing toward the Creator.
The planets can tell us all kinds of things about the physical universe.
They can't tell me whether I should marry someone, absolve me of responsibility for my behavior, tell me what my life is worth or speak for God.
They also can't give me access to knowledge of my future unless God wants me to know it.
Wait. Renaissance Popes Had Astrologers?
Now, you should know Catholicism has a history with astrology.
And it's kind of messy.
For a long time, astronomy and astrology weren't separated the way they are now. Studying movements of the planets, calculating calendars, trying to understand weather and medicine, and what we would now call astrology could all live in roughly the same intellectual neighborhood.
When I was researching this, I found something that honestly didn't surprise me, but it's still kind of fun.
Renaissance popes had astrologers, Rebels.
Popes.
With astrologers.
Yes, I totally said that. You did not mishear me.
Pope Julius II—the guy who commissioned Michelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel—consulted astrologers, as did Leo X and Paul III.
When I was figuring all of this out, I fell through probably one of my favorite rabbit holes to date.
When Julius II laid the foundation for the new St. Peter's Basilica in 1506, the ceremony had been astrologically timed.
There is an actual foundation horoscope for St. Peter's Basilica.
The academic research on this gets even weirder. The date, April 18, had already been chosen for other reasons, but astrologers appear to have selected the time of day in an attempt to line the foundation up with what they believed were significant celestial configurations.
So if your response right now is, “Nicole, you just spent 15 minutes telling me Catholics don't do astrology, and now you're telling me the Vatican had astrologers?”
Yeah.
I am.
Welcome to Catholic history.
This is where having a distinction is important because Christians were arguing about astrology long before these popes existed.
There were forms of studying the heavens that people considered part of natural philosophy. These are sciences we would eventually separate into astronomy, meteorology and medicine.
Then there was this little thing of trying to predict the future by calculating the stars.
Eventually, the Church started drawing a much clearer line between these practices.
What the Catechism Actually Says About Astrology
Paragraph 2115 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church talks about the future.
Before it even gets into astrology or divination, it says something really lovely: The Christian attitude toward the future is to place ourselves confidently in the hands of Providence.
God knows history, is the Lord of it and remains present within it.
And somehow, within all of that, we are still human beings who are free to make real decisions that come with real consequences.
Christianity does not promise that we get to know everything that's coming next.
Which can be 100 percent terribly annoying.
Because I think most of us would love to have an itinerary.
Preferably as a PDF with hyperlinks.
We want to know what's going to happen next year. Tell us what we should avoid, whether our plan is going to work, if that person can be trusted and which of our decisions are going to turn out well.
Instead, Christianity asks us to do something so much more difficult than shaking a Magic 8 Ball.
Trust God.
Make the wisest decision we can, take responsibility for our choices and keep going.
There's no birth chart that's going to get us out of just being human, Rebels.
Paragraph 2116 of the Catechism says practices like astrology, horoscopes, omens and fortune-telling can conceal a desire for power over time.
Again, I don't think people opening a horoscope over their morning coffee are thinking, “Today, I seek power over history.”
They're thinking, “Let me see what this says.”
But if we follow that desire far enough and long enough, we do kind of end up at the same place.
Is this relationship going to work?
Should I take the job?
Is something bad going to happen on this flight?
Is this a good time to make a big decision?
I want to know before I act.
I want certainty.
I want to peek behind that curtain.
And Christianity keeps bringing us back to trust.
Not because planning is bad.
Please plan.
Use that beautiful brain of yours.
Read the contract.
But there comes a point where planning turns into trying to control something we were never actually given control of.
And Providence doesn't mean every inconvenience is some secret coded message from God, either.
Sometimes the flight is canceled because the plane is broken.
Your laptop dies because laptops die.
Sometimes the person who hasn't texted you back is busy. Or, if they're anything like me, they read your text, replied in their head and somehow expected the response to magically send itself.
And then, yeah, sometimes they just don't want to text you back.
Not everything requires a cosmic explanation.
Catholicism Has Plenty of Mystery
Honestly, here's the point where I think Catholics can take this entire topic and make it a complete yawn fest.
Somebody brings up astrology and we immediately start making a list of everything that's wrong.
Horoscopes? No.
Tarot? No.
Fortune tellers? No.
Ouija boards? Absolutely not.
And listen, I especially am totally good with that one.
But if we only ever talk about what Christianity says no to, I think we completely miss why people are interested in this stuff in the first place.
Catholicism isn't lacking in mystery in any sense of the word.
Even some of the things people are looking for when they reach for astrology—slowing down, paying attention, trying to understand what is happening in their lives—the Church has ways of doing that without asking the planets to tell us the future.
Horoscope vs. Scripture
Okay, so this is my second time recording this podcast.
Yesterday I filmed in that other format, trying to follow the teleprompter and all of that, but I stopped because I had this idea to pull up my horoscope and read it as I recorded, and then do a Lectio Divina.
Lectio Divina, if you've never heard of it, is an ancient way of praying with Scripture. You read a passage slowly and pay attention to what catches your attention. You sit with it and respond to God in prayer.
There's a difference between pulling up your horoscope and this.
I'm not opening my Bible and asking God to predict my day.
I'm not looking for a secret code about whether I should take a job.
I'm asking God: What are you asking me to notice here? What does this show me about you? What does it show me about myself? Is there something here I need to bring to you?
So I'm going to cut to that part of the episode I recorded yesterday.
Let's hear what happened, and then I'll be back.
A Note About Lectio Divina
Editor's note: During the following portion of the episode, I describe spontaneously opening my Bible to a passage as part of Lectio Divina. To clarify: random selection of Scripture is not itself a traditional step of Lectio Divina. Lectio Divina is prayerful reading of Scripture traditionally described through lectio (reading), meditatio (meditation), oratio (prayer) and contemplatio (contemplation). I spontaneously selected the passage and then used it for prayer and reflection. I'm leaving the exchange intact because it reflects what happened during the recording.
The Experiment
Actually, let's try something.
I'm going to pull up my horoscope live with you.
Well, not live. I'm recording this.
But let's see.
I'm probably not giving my email to anybody.
Cancer horoscope. Okay.
My Cancer horoscope for September 11, 2026, points to high morale, a strong focus on your main goals and steady progress in both work and family life.
High performance. Your work meets expectations and your professional performance stays strong.
Woohoo!
Clear focus. You stay on track with your goals and keep a positive attitude on the job.
Money and wealth: steady progress. Hard work brings slow and steady financial growth.
Savings: you find good chances to protect and build your wealth.
Love and family—I mean, this just goes on.
Family joy. Harmony and affection grow at home. Good visits. You might host guests or share a happy surprise with close family members.
Health and well-being. High morale. Your mental energy stays positive and strong.
Self-care. Remember to eat well and take care of your body.
Okay.
Such nice, warm, feel-good things for me today.
What is that telling you?
Absolutely nothing, right?
It's some interpretation of what the planets supposedly mean for my life, relationships, decisions or whatever else it has decided Nicole needed to know today.
Okay.
So I have my Bible here, and we're going to pray with Scripture.
I'm going to open it, read a passage and pay attention to what catches my attention. If something does, I'm going to sit with it and respond to God in prayer.
I landed on Isaiah 18.
I'm going to take a moment and read this, and I will be right back.
Okay.
Holy Spirit's crazy.
When I was a youth minister, I used to have this book—something like 100 Saints Every Teen Should Know. Before every Confirmation session, when they were still discerning their saints, I would randomly pick a teen and say, “Pick a number.”
They would pick a number. I would go to that page and read something about the saint.
Without fail, whatever that saint dealt with, was patron of or experienced somehow correlated to the lesson I was teaching.
I landed on Isaiah 18 and read that, but then I got to Isaiah 19.
I'm going to read that to you.
It says:
“Oracle on Egypt: See, the Lord is riding on a swift cloud on his way to Egypt; the idols of Egypt tremble before him, the hearts of the Egyptians melt within them.”
It continues:
“They shall consult idols and charmers, ghosts and clairvoyants.”
I mean, it is Old Testament, so you've got the brimstone of it all.
But what are we talking about?
“They shall consult idols and charmers, ghosts and clairvoyants.”
I'm not surprised.
This is the Holy Spirit at work.
I promise you this wasn't anything I planned out.
I feel validated by the Holy Spirit there.
Thank you, Lord.
My goodness.
But that's the difference. Do you see?
I wasn't opening a Bible and asking God to predict my day.
I wasn't looking for the numbers to the next Powerball or anything like that.
I was asking God: What are you asking me to notice? What are you trying to show me? Is there something I need to bring you?
I'm a little flabbergasted because this used to happen to me all the time with my teens.
My horoscope, if we remember, was all about me. How lovely I am, my relationships with people—and honestly, I'm not going to lie, it was a little comforting.
But do you see how they're not the same?
That horoscope offered me nothing.
Even those passages I read—yes, it was a little scary—but oddly, I'm totally comforted by it all.
Did the universe send me a sign?
No.
God, the Holy Spirit, is moving.
That's what the Holy Spirit does. He moves in our lives. And when we pay attention, we get to see it more.
Was That God—or Your Algorithm?
Okay, so you guys just saw what happened.
I read a horoscope. It was kind of meaningless. Honestly, I don't even really remember what it said.
But I remember what happened when I read the Scripture.
I felt like the Holy Spirit was working so that I could show you this has meaning.
The reading basically said you can't follow a false oracle. That's part of why the Church says these practices can push us away from the Creator and the One who wants the best for us.
So let's get back on track.
What I wanted to talk about next was this idea of signs.
Catholics will totally say, “I asked God for a sign.”
Are we doing the exact same thing with different branding?
No. Not really.
For starters, the universe isn't a person.
It's creation.
It doesn't have a will. It's not sitting somewhere making decisions about your career or your love life.
God, on the other hand, is personal, and Catholics absolutely believe He can guide us. Scripture is full of people being guided by God.
And in 2026, we have something else to contend with that people in past generations didn't.
Algorithms.
If you pray, “God, should I break up with this person?” and then TikTok serves you six relationship videos in a row, before you declare divine intervention, you need to remember that the algorithm has also watched you linger over 600 breakup videos this past week.
So yeah, maybe it's God.
But more than likely, it's your algorithm.
What I mean is: you've got to sit with that discernment for more than 15 seconds.
This is why the Church has an entire tradition of discernment.
We pray. We use reason. We look at Scripture and Church teaching. We talk to people we trust. We pay attention to what is actually happening.
And sometimes we give things time instead of trying to force an answer immediately.
God can and will guide us.
That doesn't mean every coincidence is a message from God.
The Problem With Manifestation
Let's talk about manifesting for a second.
I think this is one that can sneak up on us because it's so positive in nature.
Good vibes only.
Protect your energy.
I'm attracting my highest timeline.
And I get it.
The hunger behind this is so real and valid.
Life is terrifying at times. We want to feel safe, and we want to guarantee that things are going to be okay.
But there's a dark flip side to manifestation culture that I don't think anyone talks about in their aesthetic morning TikTok routine videos.
If you believe you're the ultimate creator of your reality and your thoughts literally dictate what happens to you, what happens when you get sick?
Or lose your job?
Or your heart gets broken?
The subtle, incredibly toxic lie is that if you can manifest good things into your life, then the reverse would also be true.
If something bad happens, you must have done something to attract it.
You didn't vibrate at a high enough frequency.
That's not the case.
That must be so exhausting.
Because you're trying to be your own God.
You're carrying the burden of keeping the entire universe in line with your thoughts.
Christianity offers something different.
Relief.
The profound relief of knowing you don't control the cosmos.
Catholics ask God for things all the time. We pray novenas. We light candles. And I highly recommend telling God exactly what you want.
He already knows.
The difference is what we think our prayer is doing.
Prayer isn't a technique for getting the universe to comply.
We aren't trying to manipulate an abstract energy field.
We're talking to Someone.
The universe doesn't love you.
It can't.
It's an impersonal force made of space and gas and rocks. It doesn't care if you have a bad day.
But God does.
And I would rather bring my messy, low-vibe, unpredictable life to a Father who loves me than exhaust myself trying to hack my way into a perfect reality that doesn't exist.
Your Birth Chart Is Not Your Identity
Then there's the part of astrology that isn't really about predicting the future, but explaining who you are.
This is probably where I have one of my biggest issues with it, apart from trying to predict the future, because teenage Nicole fell into this.
My mom had this book. I think it was called Love Signs.
And my mom is a cradle Catholic.
I think there was a New Age thing happening. People were into it. You buy these things, and if you're not properly catechized, you don't know.
Again, I was 16. I'd already been confirmed.
I had never been taught this in all my years of Catholic children's detention.
CCD.
Never taught this.
This book would tell you: You're a Cancer, this is your personality and these are the sun signs you're going to be most compatible with.
Between you and me, I married a guy who, according to this book, was my least compatible person.
Can you imagine if I had asked him when I met him, “Hey, what's your sign?”
Then remembered the book and said, “No, sorry. Even though my soul literally smiled when I looked at you for the first time, we're not going to work out.”
There are other things I think fall in line with this but aren't so bad—personality tests.
I feel like these are based in some kind of psychology. There's the Enneagram, Myers-Briggs, even your Hogwarts house test.
I'm not declaring war on personality tests because personally, I am a fan.
If you know your Enneagram, Myers-Briggs or Hogwarts house—which is obviously vital information—come find me over on my Substack because I'm going to share mine.
There's no paywall there.
Search for Rebel Saints or Nicole Olea. The newsletter is called Letters for the Restless Heart.
A good personality framework can help you notice tendencies you genuinely have.
My Myers-Briggs, for example, is embarrassingly accurate.
Christianity, though, gives us an identity that doesn't trap us inside some cosmic personality category.
You are created by God and in His image.
You are capable of reason, freedom, love, sin, repentance, virtue and grace.
And that means you're capable of changing.
Actual change.
Christianity doesn't look at an impatient person and say, “Well, that's your cosmic wiring. Good luck, friend.”
Grace gives us the freedom to become more patient, charitable, courageous and prudent.
The Sexiest Catholic Answer Imaginable
Which brings me to probably the sexiest Catholic answer imaginable to Mercury in retrograde.
Prudence.
I know.
Rebels, try to contain yourselves.
No, prudence isn't as sexy as crystals or having your palm read, but the Catechism describes it as a virtue that helps us discern what is actually good in a particular situation and choose the right way to pursue it.
Here's the funny thing.
Some of the advice attached to Mercury in retrograde is actually pretty reasonable.
Read the contract before you sign it.
Back up your computer.
Think before you send the text.
Double-check your travel arrangements.
These are all super prudent things to do.
But you don't need to consult Mercury or your favorite astrologer on YouTube to do them.
You are allowed to proofread your emails every single day of the year.
This is what I love about Catholic moral theology.
It gives us a way to deal with uncertainty without pretending uncertainty doesn't exist.
I may not know how everything is going to turn out.
But I can learn how to make better decisions with the information I actually have.
That's what virtue is for.
Sometimes the Problem Is Us
There are times when the problem isn't Mercury, uncertainty or somebody else.
It's us.
We've all been in situations where there was a breakdown in communication.
Words were said.
Maybe you said something cruel.
Maybe Becky at work spilled the tea about your boss and you were a very enthusiastic participant.
Maybe you are the boss who discovered your employees were gossiping about you, so when you got home, you blew up at your spouse.
Or maybe you nuked the group chat you're in with your siblings straight out of orbit because they were doing the thing siblings can do so very well:
Push your buttons.
I could go on with these analogies, but I won't.
Astrology can offer us a cosmic explanation.
Catholicism gives us an examination of conscience.
Which is considerably less fun, for sure, because it means we have to look at ourselves honestly, including the parts we'd probably rather avoid.
What did I do?
Where did I fail to love?
Was I honest?
Was I charitable?
Did I control my anger?
Do I owe someone an apology?
Is there something here I need to confess?
These are questions we ask ourselves when examining our conscience.
And as uncomfortable as that can be, it offers us freedom.
Because if the explanation is “Mercury made me do it,” there isn't much I can do except wait for Mercury to behave itself.
But if the explanation is:
“Nope. I did that.”
I did that 100 percent.
It was all me.
Well, grace has something to work with.
You can go to Confession. Apologize. Repair what was damaged. Pull out your journal and start paying attention to the virtues you clearly need to practice more.
It means you can change.
Catholicism takes sin seriously because Catholicism takes human freedom seriously.
We aren't puppets dangling from a cosmic solar system.
We also aren't the puppet masters of everything that happens to us.
We are responsible for what we do with the freedom we have.
And thank God for that.
Responsibility means repentance is possible.
But Catholics Ask St. Anthony to Find Their Keys
Now, I know somebody listening to all of this may have a reasonable objection.
Catholics will absolutely lose their car keys and immediately yell, “St. Anthony!”
I have done this.
We talked about it in our last episode. If you haven't heard that one, go back and listen.
Someone hearing Catholics invoke St. Anthony might ask:
“Nicole, explain to me how asking a dead Franciscan to help you find your keys is reasonable, but Mercury in retrograde is where we suddenly draw the line.”
That's a totally fair question.
The difference is that I'm not asking St. Anthony to manipulate some cosmic force.
I'm asking him to pray for me.
That's intercession.
In the same way we ask someone to pray for us before surgery, Catholics believe we can ask St. Anthony to pray for us because death doesn't sever the Body of Christ.
St. Anthony isn't magic.
Prayer isn't an incantation.
But if we ever start treating Catholic devotions like spells—say exactly these words, burn exactly this candle, do exactly this thing nine times, and now God is obligated to produce the result we want—congratulations.
We have managed to drag superstition straight into the vestibule.
I'm not saying Catholics can't be superstitious.
Some of the most superstitious people I know are Catholics.
We don't get a pass just because a saint is on the thing.
Don't Blame Mercury
God created the cosmos.
But the cosmos cannot care about you.
Mercury is going to do the thing it does—which is not go backward and continue being an optical illusion.
And in October, it's going back into retrograde, apparently.
Everything will be fine because we have Jesus to rely on, Providence and prudence.
Having said that:
Prudence is very important here, Rebels.
As we move into the holiday season and the fall and the cozy months, if an ex suddenly decides to crawl out of the digital graveyard you put them in...
Maybe block them.
This isn't legal advice.
This isn't relationship advice.
I'm just a Catholic with a microphone and a podcast.
But I think that's solid advice regardless of what the planets are doing.
All right, Rebels.
That is the sum of my pitch for choosing Catholicism over putting your faith in the cosmos.
Because I'd like to remind you:
God created the cosmos.
Mercury doesn't know your name.
But God does.
And if you're a Catholic who maybe didn't know these things and now you're freaking out, you don't have to.
Chill.
You'll be okay.
Go to Confession. Let it all out.
Before you go, let me know how I'm doing. Please like, comment, subscribe, follow and leave a review, especially on Apple and Spotify.
And if you think this podcast could help someone, share it with them.
Thank you so much.
I really do love you, and I feel so honored that you chose to spend this little bit of time with me today.
I'm Nicole, and this is Rebel Saints.
It's a podcast—a Catholic one—for restless hearts called to be saints.
Restless Hearts, you are welcome here.
And I'm so glad you're here.
Bye.
