The Rudolf Steiner Archive

4. “The Mysteries” A Christmas and Easter poem by Goethe

[ 1 ] Anyone who was at Cologne Cathedral that night could see the three letters “CMB” displayed in light. As is well known, they stand for the names of the so-called Three Kings, traditionally called Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar in the Christian Church. For Cologne, these names evoke very special memories. There is an old legend that the remains of these Three Kings—after they had become bishops and died—were brought here to Cologne some time later. Connected to this is another legend, which tells that a Danish king once came here to Cologne and brought three crowns for the Three Kings. When he returned home, he had a dream. In his dream, the three kings appeared to him and handed him three cups: the first cup contained gold, the second cup incense, and the third cup myrrh. When the Danish king awoke, the three kings had vanished, but the cups remained; they stood before him: the three gifts he had kept from his dream.

[ 2 ] There is something extraordinarily “profound” in this legend. It suggests to us that the king, in a dream, attained a certain insight into the spiritual world, through which he came to understand the symbolic meaning of these three kings—these three Magi from the East—who offered gold, frankincense, and myrrh at the birth of Jesus Christ. And from this insight, he was left with a lasting gift: those three human virtues symbolically represented by gold, frankincense, and myrrh—self-knowledge in gold; self-piety—that is, the piety of the innermost self, also called self-surrender—in the frankincense; and self-perfection and self-development, or the preservation of the eternal within the self, in the myrrh.

[ 3 ] How did the king come to have the opportunity to receive these three virtues as gifts from another world? He gained this opportunity by striving with all his soul to penetrate such a profound symbol as is embodied in the three kings who offered their gifts to Christ Jesus.

[ 4 ] There are many, many elements in the Christ Legend that lead us deep into the diverse meanings of what is meant by the Christ Principle and what it is intended to bring about in the world. Among these deepest aspects of the Christ Legend is the adoration and offering of the three Magi, the three kings from the East, and we must approach this fundamental symbolism of the Christian tradition with a deeper understanding. Later, the view emerged that the first king represented the Asian peoples, the second the European peoples, and the third the African peoples. Increasingly, where one sought to understand Christianity as the religion of earthly harmony, the Three Kings and their homage were seen as a convergence of the various currents and religious movements in the world into a single principle—the Christ principle.

[ 5 ] Those who, at the time this legend took on such a form, had penetrated the mystery principles of esoteric Christianity saw in the Christ principle not merely a force that had intervened in human evolution, but they saw in the being who incarnated as Jesus of Nazareth, a cosmic, world-encompassing force—a force that extended far beyond the merely human realm that prevails in our time. They saw in the Christ principle a force that, while representing for humanity an ideal lying in the distant future of human development, is an ideal that humanity can only approach by increasingly comprehending the entire world in spirit. They saw in the human being, first and foremost, a small being, a small world, a microcosm that was to them a reflection of the macrocosm—the great, all-encompassing world that contains everything a human being can initially perceive with the external senses, see with the eyes, and hear with the ears, but which also contains everything that the spirit could perceive—what even the most limited spirit and even the most clairvoyant spirit could perceive. For this is how the world appeared to the esoteric Christian in the early days. Everything he saw in the events of the heavens, everything he saw in the events on our Earth—thunder and lightning, storms and rain and sunshine, the course of the stars, the rising and setting of the sun, the rising and setting of the moon—all of this was a gesture to him, something like facial expressions, an outward manifestation of inner spiritual processes.

[ 6 ] The esoteric Christian views the structure of the world just as he views a human body. When he looks at the human body, it breaks down into various parts for him: head, arms, hands, and so on. When he looks at the human body, he observes the movements of the hands, the eyes, and the facial muscles, but to him, the limbs and the movements of the individual limbs are expressions of inner spiritual and soul experiences. And just as he looked into the eternal, soul-level essence of a human being through the limbs and their movements, so, too, did the esoteric Christian look into the movements of the celestial bodies, into the light streaming from the celestial bodies toward humanity, into the rising and setting of the sun and the rising and setting of the moon—in all of this he saw the outward expression of divine-spiritual beings that permeate space. All these natural phenomena were to him the deeds of the gods, the gestures of the gods, the facial expressions of the divine-spiritual beings. But also everything that happens within the human race—when people establish social communities, when they submit to moral precepts, regulate their interactions through laws, when they create tools from the forces of nature, indeed with the forces of nature, but not in the form in which nature had directly provided them—all that which human beings do more or less unconsciously was, for the esoteric Christian, an outward expression of inner divine-spiritual governance.

[ 7 ] But the esoteric Christian did not stop at such general forms; rather, he pointed to very specific individual gestures, individual aspects of the world’s physiognomy and facial expressions, in order to see very specific expressions of the spiritual in these individual aspects. He pointed to the sun and said: The sun is not merely an external, physical body. This external, physical body of the sun is the body of a soul-spiritual being who presides over soul-spiritual beings who are the rulers, the leaders of all earthly destinies; who are the guides of all external, natural events on Earth, but also the guides of everything that happens in human and social life, in the lawful conduct of all people toward one another.” — When the esoteric Christian looked up at the sun, he revered in the sun the outer manifestation of his Christ. At first, the Christ was for him the soul of the sun, and what the esoteric Christian said was this: From the beginning, the sun was the body of the Christ, but the people on Earth and the Earth itself were not yet ready to receive the spiritual light—the Christ-light—that radiates from the sun. Therefore, people had to be prepared for the Christ-light.

[ 8 ] And now the esoteric Christian looked up at the moon, and he saw how the moon reflects the light of the sun, though more faintly than the light of the sun itself, and then he said to himself: If I look at the sun with my physical eyes, I am blinded by its radiant light; but when I look at the moon, I am not blinded; it reflects the radiant sunlight back to me in a softened form.”—In this softened sunlight, in this moonlight that shines down upon the earth, the esoteric Christian saw the physiognomic expression of the ancient Jehovah principle, the expression of the religion of the Old Law. And he said: Before the Christ principle, the Sun of Righteousness, could appear on Earth, the Yahweh principle—in a preparatory, attenuated form within the Law—had to send this light of righteousness down to Earth. |

[ 9 ] Thus, what lies in the ancient principle of Jehovah, in the ancient Law—the spiritual light of the moon—was, for the esoteric Christian, the reflected spiritual light of the higher Christ principle. And, along with the adherents of the most ancient mysteries, the esoteric Christian—even well into the Middle Ages—saw in the sun the expression of the spiritual light governing the earth, the Christ-light, and in the moon the expression of the reflected Christ-light, which, in its direct form, would blind human beings. And in the Earth itself, the esoteric Christian, along with the adherents of the oldest mysteries, saw that which at times concealed and veiled the dazzling sunlight of the Spirit. He saw in the Earth just as much the physical expression of a Spirit as he saw in all other bodies the expression of something spiritual. He created a mental image of himself when the sun visibly shines upon the earth, when from spring onward and throughout the summer it sends down its rays and drives forth from the earth all sprouting and budding life, and when it has reached its zenith in the long summer days—then the esoteric Christian created a mental image of himself as the sun nourishes the outward, sprouting life, the physical life. In the plants that sprout from the ground, in the animals that were able to develop their fertility during these times, the esoteric Christian saw the same principle in an outer, physical form that he saw in the beings for whom the sun is the outer expression. But then, when the days grow shorter, as autumn and winter approach, the esoteric Christian said: The Sun is drawing its physical power back from the Earth more and more. But to the same extent that the Sun’s physical power is drawn back from the Earth, the spiritual power grows, and it flows most strongly toward the Earth when those days arrive that are the shortest, with the long nights—in the times that have since been marked by the Christmas festival. - Human beings cannot see this spiritual power of the sun. They would see it, said the esoteric Christian, if the inner power of spiritual vision were present within them. And the esoteric Christian still had an awareness of what had been a fundamental conviction and insight among the students of the Mysteries from the earliest times right up to more recent times.

[ 10 ] On those nights, which are now associated with the Christmas festival, the mystery students were prepared to experience inner spiritual vision, so that they could see inwardly and spiritually that which, in terms of its physical power, withdraws most from the earth during these times. During the long Christmas winter night, the initiate was brought to a point where, at midnight, the vision could dawn upon him. Then the Earth no longer veiled the Sun, which stood behind it. It became transparent to him. He saw through the transparent Earth the spiritual light of the Sun—the Christ-light. This fact, which reflects a profound experience of the mystery students, was captured in the expression: “To see the Sun at midnight.”

[ 11 ] There are regions where churches, which are otherwise open all day, are closed around noon. This is a fact that links Christianity to the traditions of ancient religious beliefs. Within these ancient religious beliefs, the initiates of the mysteries stated, based on their experience: At noon, when the sun is at its highest, when it exerts its greatest physical power, the gods sleep, and they sleep most deeply in the summer, when the sun exerts its greatest physical power. But they are most alert on Christmas Eve, when the sun’s external physical power is at its weakest.

[ 12 ] We see that all beings who wish to develop their outer physical strength look up to the sun as it rises in the spring; they strive to receive the sun’s outer physical power. But then, at midday in summer, when the sun’s physical power flows most strongly from the sun to the earth, its spiritual power is at its weakest. At midnight in winter, however, when the sun radiates its weakest physical power toward the earth, human beings see the spirit of the sun through the earth, which has become transparent to them. The esoteric Christian felt that, through deepening his immersion in Christian esotericism, he was drawing ever closer to that power of inner vision through which he could fully fill his feelings, thoughts, and impulses of will as he gazed into this spiritual sun. And then the mystery student was led to a vision that had a most real significance: As long as the Earth is opaque, the individual parts of the Earth appear to be inhabited by people who profess different creeds; but the unifying bond is absent. The human races are scattered like the climates; the opinions of people on Earth are scattered, but there is no connecting link. But to the extent that people begin, through the inner power of vision, to look through the Earth toward the Sun—to the extent that the star appears to them shining through the Earth—the creeds of humankind unite into the great, unified brotherhood of humanity. And those who have guided the separate great masses of people in the truth of the higher planes toward initiation into the higher worlds were presented as the Magi. There were three of them, since the most diverse forces find expression in the most diverse places on Earth. Humanity therefore had to be guided in various ways. But the star that rises behind the Earth appears as a unifying force. It brings the scattered people together, and there they offer sacrifices to the physical embodiment of the Sun, which had appeared as the Star of Peace. Thus, from a cosmic-human perspective, the religion of peace, harmony, world peace, and human brotherhood has been associated with the ancient magi, who laid down the finest gifts they had for humanity at the cradle of the incarnated Son of Man.

[ 13 ] The legend beautifully captures this by saying that the Danish king rose to the level of understanding of the Magi, the Three Kings, and when he rose, they left him their three gifts: first, the gift of wisdom through self-knowledge; second, the gift of devoted piety through self-sacrifice; and third, the gift of life’s victory over death through the power and nurturing of the Eternal within the self.

[ 14 ] All those who understood Christianity in this way saw in it the profound idea of Spiritual Science concerning the unification of religions. For they held the view—indeed, they were firmly convinced—that whoever grasps Christianity in this way can progress toward the highest stage of human development.

[ 15 ] One of the last Germans to have grasped Christianity in this esoteric way was Goethe, and Goethe has bequeathed to us this form of Christianity, this form of religious synthesis, this form of theosophy in the profound poem “The Mysteries,” which has indeed remained a fragment, but which reveals to us in a profoundly meaningful way the inner spiritual development of a person who is imbued with and convinced of the feelings and ideas just mentioned.

[ 16 ] First, we hear how Goethe seeks to draw our attention to the pilgrim’s path of such a person, and how he suggests to us that this path can lead down many wrong turns, that it is not easy for a person to find it, and that one must have patience and devotion to reach the goal. If a person possesses these qualities, then he will find the light he seeks. Let us listen to the beginning of the poem:

A wonderful song has been prepared for you;
Listen to it with joy, and call everyone here!
The path winds through mountains and valleys;
Here the view is limited, there it opens up again,
And when the path gently slips into the bushes,
Do not think that it is a mistake;
For when we have climbed far enough,
We shall draw nearer to our goal at the right time.

But let no one think that by pondering long and hard
He will ever unravel the whole song:
Many must gain much here,
Mother Earth bears many a blossom;
One departs with a gloomy gaze,
Another lingers with a cheerful demeanor:
Each shall enjoy it as he pleases,
For many a wanderer, the spring shall flow.

[ 17 ] We are placed in this situation. We are shown a pilgrim who, if we were to ask him, could not rationally explain what we have just described as an esoteric Christian idea—but a pilgrim in whose heart and soul these ideas live, transformed into feelings. It is not easy to uncover everything that is hidden in this poem, titled “The Mysteries.” Goethe clearly hinted at it: a process that takes place within the human being, in which the highest ideas, thoughts, and mental images are transformed into feelings and sensations. Through what means does this transformation take place?

[ 18 ] We live through many incarnations, from one incarnation to the next. In each one, we learn more and a wide variety of things; each one provides many opportunities to gain new experiences. It is not possible for us to carry everything, down to the last detail, from one incarnation to the next. When a person is reborn, not everything they have learned in the past needs to be revived in all its details. But if a person has learned a great deal in one incarnation, when he then dies and is reborn, not all of his ideas need to resurface, but he does come back to life with the fruits of his previous life, with the fruits of his learning. His perceptions and feelings correspond to the insights gained in his previous incarnations.

[ 19 ] Here, in Goethe’s poem, something wonderful is expressed: a person appears before us who, in the simplest of words—as if from a child’s mouth, not in the form of abstract concepts or ideas—proclaims the highest wisdom as the fruit of earlier insights. He has transformed these insights into feeling and sensation and is thereby called to guide others who may have learned more through mental images. We have before us in Brother Markus such a pilgrim with a mature soul, one who has transformed much of what he gathered in earlier incarnations into direct feeling and sensation. As a member of a secret brotherhood, he is sent on an important mission to another secret brotherhood.

[ 20 ] He wanders through various regions, and, being tired, comes upon a mountain. He finally makes his way up the path to the summit. Every line in this poem is deeply meaningful. Once he has climbed the mountain, he sees a monastery in a nearby valley. This monastery is the home of another brotherhood to which he has been sent. Above the monastery gate, he sees something remarkable. There he sees the cross, but in a special way: the cross entwined with roses! And there he utters a meaningful phrase that only those who know how often that password has been spoken in the secret brotherhoods can understand: “Who has adorned the cross with roses?” And from the center of the cross, he sees three rays emanating as if from the sun. He does not need to conjure up the meaning of this profound symbol in his mind through concepts. The intuition and feeling for it live within his soul, his mature soul. His mature soul knows all that lies within it.

[ 21 ] What does the cross signify? He knows that the cross expresses many things; among many others, it also represents the threefold lower nature of the human being: the physical body, the etheric body, and the astral body. It is within the cross that the “I” is born. In the Rose Cross, we have the fourfold human being: in the cross, the physical human being, the etheric human being, and the astral human being; and in the roses, the “I.” Why roses for the “I”? Esoteric Christianity added the roses to the cross because it saw in the Christ principle the call to elevate the “I”—insofar as it is born within the three bodies—to an ever higher and higher “I.” In the Christ principle, it saw the power to lift this “I” higher and higher.

[ 22 ] The cross is the symbol of death in a very special sense. Goethe also expresses this beautifully elsewhere when he says:

And as long as you don't have that,
This: Die and Be Reborn!
You are but a gloomy guest
On this dark earth.

[ 23 ] Die and be reborn; overcome what is initially given to you in the three lower bodies. Put it to death, but do not do so out of a desire for death; rather, purify what is within these three bodies so that you may attain, within the “I,” the strength to receive ever greater perfection. By putting to death what has been given to you in the three lower bodies, the power of perfection flows into the “I.” In the “I,” the Christian is to absorb the power of perfection within himself—even down to the blood—in accordance with the Christ principle. This power is to work down to the very blood.

[ 24 ] Blood is the expression of the “I.” In the red roses, the esoteric Christian saw that which, in the blood purified and refined by the Christ principle—and thus in the refined “I”—leads the human being upward to his higher being; that which transforms the astral body into the Spirit-Self, the etheric body into the Life-Spirit, and the physical body into the Spirit-Man. Thus, in the Rose Cross associated with the threefold ray, the Christ principle appears to us in profound symbolism. The pilgrim, Brother Markus, who arrives here, knows: He is in a place where the deepest meaning of Christianity is understood.

Weary from the day’s long journey,
Which he had undertaken with noble resolve,
Leaning on a staff in the pious manner of a pilgrim,
Brother Markus, off the beaten path,
Longing for a little drink and food,
Arrived in a valley on that beautiful evening,
Full of hope in the wooded glades
To find a hospitable roof for the night.

On the steep mountain that now stands before him,
He believes he sees the traces of a path,
He follows the path, which winds its way,
And must wind his way upward around the rocks;
Soon he finds himself high above the valley,
The sun shines upon him once more, beautifully and warmly,
And soon, with deep delight,
He sees the summit lying close before his eyes.

And beside him, the sun, as it begins to set
Still sits magnificently enthroned amid dark clouds;
He gathers strength to scale the height,
There he hopes his efforts will soon be rewarded.
“Now,” he says to himself, “now it must become clear,
Whether anything human dwells nearby!”
He climbs and listens and feels as if reborn:
The sound of a bell rings in his ears.

And now that he has fully climbed the summit,
He sees a nearby, gently curving valley.
His quiet eyes shine with delight;
For before the forest he suddenly sees
A beautiful building lying in a green meadow.
Just as the last ray of sunlight strikes it:
He hurries through meadows moistened by dew,
Toward the monastery that shines out to meet him.

Already he sees himself close to the quiet place,
Which fills his spirit with peace and hope,
And on the arch of the closed gate
He beholds a mysterious image.
He stands and ponders, murmuring soft words
Of devotion welling up in his heart,
He stands and ponders: What does this mean?
The sun sinks, and the ringing of the bells fades.

He sees the sign standing majestically erect,
Which stands as comfort and hope to the whole world,
To which many thousands of spirits are devoted,
To which many thousands of hearts have warmly prayed,
Which destroys the power of bitter death,
Which flies on so many a banner of victory:
A refreshing spring permeates his weary limbs,
He sees the cross and lowers his eyes.

He feels anew the salvation that sprang from there,
He senses the faith of half the world;
Yet he is filled with a wholly new sense,
As the image presents itself before his eyes:
There stands the cross, densely entwined with roses.
Who has placed roses upon the cross?
The wreath swells, all around
To gently enfold the rugged wood.

And light, silvery clouds of heaven float,
Soaring upward with the cross and roses.
And from the center wells up a holy life
Of threefold rays emanating from a single point;
No words surround the image,
That might bring meaning and clarity to the mystery.
In the twilight, which grows ever darker,
He stands and ponders, feeling uplifted.

[ 25 ] That which is found within this building as the spirit of the deepest Christianity is expressed through this cross entwined with roses, and as the pilgrim enters, he is truly welcomed by this spirit. As he enters, he realizes that it is not this or that religion of the world that reigns in this house, but rather the higher unity of the world’s religions. Inside this house, he tells an elder member of the brotherhood present here on whose behalf and for what purpose he has come. He is welcomed, and he learns that a brotherhood of twelve brothers lives in complete seclusion within this house. These twelve brothers represent various groups of people on Earth; each brother represents a religious denomination. One will not find that anyone is admitted here while still young in years or still immature; rather, one is admitted only after having surveyed the world, having struggled through the world’s pleasures and the world’s sorrows, having worked and acted in the world, and having risen to a free perspective beyond one’s narrowly limited sphere. Only then is one admitted and accepted into the circle of the Twelve. And these Twelve, each of whom represents a religious creed of the world, live here in peace and harmony with one another; for they are led by a Thirteenth who surpasses them all in the perfection of the human self, who surpasses them all in his broad perspective on human affairs.

[ 26 ] And how does Goethe suggest that this Thirteenth is the representative of true esotericism, the bearer of the creed of the Rosy Cross? Goethe suggests this to us by saying: “He was among us.” Now we are overcome with the deepest sorrow because he wants to leave us; he wants to part from us. But he considers it right to part from us now. He wants to ascend to higher realms, where he no longer needs to reveal himself in an earthly body.

[ 27 ] He may ascend. For he has risen to a point that Goethe describes as follows: For every creed, there is the possibility of drawing closer to the highest unity. — When each of the twelve religions is ripe to establish harmony, then the Thirteenth, who previously established harmony externally, can ascend. And we are beautifully told how one attains this perfection of the self. First, we are told the life story of the Thirteenth; but the brother who took in the pilgrim Markus knows many other things that the great leader of the Twelve could not say. This brother now recounts to the pilgrim Markus certain details of profound esoteric significance. It is told that when the Thirteenth was born, a star heralded his earthly existence. This is directly linked to the star that guided the Three Wise Men and to its significance. This star has enduring significance; it points the way to self-knowledge, self-surrender, and self-perfection. It is the star that opens the understanding of the gifts the Danish king received through the vision that came to him in a dream—the star that appears at the birth of everyone who is ready to receive the Christ principle within themselves.

[ 28 ] And other things became apparent as well. It became clear that he had developed to that level of religious harmony which brings peace and harmony to the soul. This is symbolized in a deeply significant way by the fact that, when the Thirteenth appears in the world, a vulture swoops down; but instead of wreaking havoc, it spreads peace among the doves. We are told something else as well. As the little sister lies in her cradle, an otter coils around her. The Thirteenth, still a child, kills the otter. This wonderfully suggests how a mature soul—for only a mature soul can achieve such a thing after many incarnations—kills the otter even in early youth, that is, overcomes the lower astral entity. The otter is the symbol of the lower astral being. The sister is one’s own etheric body, around which the astral body winds itself. He kills the otter for his sister.

[ 29 ] We are then told how he obediently submitted to what his parents initially demanded of him. He obeyed his harsh father. The soul evolves through its insights, ideas, and thoughts. Then healing powers develop within the soul, through which healing effects can be brought about in the world. Miraculous powers develop; they find their expression in the fact that he uses his sword to draw a spring from the rock. It is deliberately shown here how his soul follows the path laid out in Scripture.

[ 30 ] Thus the Elder, the representative of humanity, the Chosen One, gradually matures; here, within the Community of the Twelve—the great secret order that, under the Rosicrucian symbol, has taken on the mission for humanity to harmonize the creeds spread throughout the world—he acts as the Thirteenth. Thus, we are first introduced in a profound way to the state of soul of the one who has thus far guided the Brotherhood of our Twelve.

He knocks at last, just as the high stars
Turn their bright eyes down toward him.
The gate opens, and he is welcomed gladly
With open arms, with outstretched hands.
He says where he is from, from what distant place
The commands of higher beings have sent him.
They listen and marvel. Just as they honored the stranger
as a guest, so now they honor the messenger.

Everyone presses forward to hear as well.
And is moved by a secret power;
No breath dares disturb the rare guest,
For every word echoes in their hearts.
What he recounts seems like profound teachings
Of wisdom that resounds from a child’s lips:
In the openness and innocence of his manner
He seems a man from another world.

“Welcome,” cries an old man at last, “welcome,”
If your mission brings comfort and hope!
You look at us; we all stand anxiously,
Though the sight of you stirs our souls:
The greatest happiness, alas! is taken from us,
We are moved by worries and by fear.
At this crucial hour, our walls
Welcome you, stranger, to mourn with us as well:

For, alas, the man who unites us all here,
Whom we know as father, friend, and leader,
Who has kindled light and courage in our lives,
In a short while he will part from us,
He himself announced it only recently;
Yet he will not name either the manner or the hour:
And so his certain departure
Remains a mystery, full of bitter suffering.

You see all here with gray hair,
As nature herself has led us to rest:
We accepted none who, young in years,
Was called to renounce the world too soon.
Having experienced life’s joys and burdens,
When the wind no longer blew into our sails,
We were permitted to land here with honor,
Reassured that we had found a safe harbor.

To the noble man who guided us here,
May God’s peace dwell in his heart;
I have accompanied him on life’s path,
And am well aware of times gone by;
The hours when he prepares himself in solitude,
Proclaim to us the approaching loss.
What is man, why cannot he give his life
In vain, and not for a better one?

This would now be my only desire:
Why must I renounce this wish?
How many have gone before me!
Only him must I mourn most bitterly.
How else could he have welcomed you so kindly!
Yet he has entrusted the house to us;
Though he has not yet appointed a successor,
He already lives, in spirit, separated from us.

And he comes only for a short hour each day,
Tells us stories, and is more moved than usual:
We then hear from his own lips,
How wonderfully providence has guided him;
We take note, so that this certain account
Is not lost to posterity, even in the smallest detail;
We also ensure that someone writes it down diligently,
And that his memory remains pure and true.

Truly, I would much rather tell these things myself,
Than remain silent now, merely listening:
I should not want to miss even the smallest detail,
Nor have I yet forgotten anything vividly;
I listen and can hardly conceal
That I am not always satisfied with this:
If I were to speak of all these things myself,
They will sound more magnificent coming from my own mouth.

As the third man, I would tell the story more fully and freely,
How a spirit foretold his mother’s fate early on,
And how a star, during his baptismal ceremony,
Shone more brightly in the evening sky,
And how, with wide wings, a vulture
Settled among the doves in the courtyard;
Not swooping menacingly or seeking to harm as usual,
He seemed to gently invite them to harmony.

Then he modestly kept silent about
How, as a child, he overpowered the otter,
Which he found clinging to his sister’s arm,
Tightly coiled around the sleeping girl.
The wet nurse fled and left the infant behind;
He strangled the creature with a steady hand:
The mother came and, trembling with joy,
Beheld her son’s deeds and her daughter’s life.

And so he also kept silent about the fact that a spring
Sprang from dry rock before his sword,
Strong as a stream, winding its way with rippling waves
Down the mountain into the depths:
It still gushes forth so swiftly, so silvery-clear,
Just as it first surged toward him,
And the companions who witnessed the miracle,
Hardly dared to quench their burning thirst.

When nature has exalted a man,
It is no wonder that he achieves so much;
One must praise in him the power of the Creator,
Who raises the weak clay to such honor:
But when a man, of all life’s trials
Endures the most bitter—conquering himself;
Then one can joyfully point him out to others
And say: This is he, this is his own!

For all strength surges forward into the vastness,
To live and to act here and there;
In contrast, from every side
The current of the world constricts and hinders us, sweeping us along:
In this inner storm and outer strife
The spirit hears a word that is hard to understand:
From the force that binds all beings,
The person who overcomes himself is set free.

[ 31 ] Thus, this person—who had overcome himself, that is, the “I” initially assigned to him—became the leader of the select brotherhood just described. And so he guides the Twelve. He has guided them to the point where they are now so mature that he may leave them.

[ 32 ] Our brother Markus is then led further into the rooms where the Twelve are at work. How were they working? Their work is of a special kind, and we are made aware that this work takes place in the spiritual world. A person whose eyes are fixed solely on the physical plane, whose senses perceive only the physical and what happens in the physical world, cannot easily conceive that there is another kind of work that, under certain circumstances, is far more essential and important than what is done outwardly on the physical plane. Work carried out from the higher planes is far more important for humanity. However, the condition must be met that whoever wishes to work on the higher planes must first have completed the work on the physical plane. These Twelve had done so. That is why their collaboration signifies something noble in the service of humanity.

[ 33 ] Our brother Markus is led into the room where the Twelve used to gather for their meetings, and there, in a deeply symbolic way, the nature of their collaboration becomes apparent to him. What each of the brothers has to contribute, based on his own unique character, to this collaboration is expressed in a special symbol above the seat of each of the Twelve. There one sees various symbols that express, in a meaningful way and in the most diverse forms, what each one has to contribute to the common work, which consists of spiritual activity, so that these streams converge here into a single stream of spiritual life that floods the world and imparts its power to the rest of humanity. There are such brotherhoods, such centers, from which such streams flow out and work their way into the rest of humanity.

[ 34 ] Above the seat of the Thirteenth, Brother Markus sees the sign once again: the cross entwined with roses—this sign, which is at the same time a symbol of the fourfold human nature and, in the red roses, the symbol of the purified blood or “I” principle, the principle of the higher human being. And then we see how that which is to be overcome by this sign is depicted as a special symbol to the left and right of the Thirteenth’s seat. To the right, he sees the fiery-colored dragon: it represents the human astral entity.

[ 35 ] It was well known in Christian esotericism that the human soul can be surrendered to the three lower bodies. If it is surrendered to them, then the lower life of the threefold physicality reigns within it; this is expressed in astral perception through the dragon. This is not merely a symbol, but a very real sign. The dragon expresses what must first be overcome. In the passions, in these forces of astral fire that belong to the physical human being—in this dragon—that Christian esotericism, in whose spirit this poem was written and which spread throughout Europe, saw that which humanity had received from the hot zone, from the south. From the south comes that part of the human being which humanity has brought with it as the fiery passion that is more directed toward lower sensuality. As the first impulse to combat and overcome this, people sensed what flowed down through the influences of the cooler north. The influence of the colder north—the descent of the “I” into the threefold physical body—is expressed, according to an ancient symbol taken from the constellation of the Bear, by reaching one’s hand into a bear’s throat. What is overcome is the lower human nature, that which finds expression in the fiery dragon. And what has thus been preserved in the higher animal realm was represented by the bear; and the “I,” which has developed beyond the dragon nature, was depicted with profound significance by the stretching of the human hand into the bear’s throat. On either side of the Rosicrucian symbol appears that which must be overcome by the Rosicrucian symbol, and it is the Rosicrucian symbol that calls upon human beings to purify themselves higher and higher.

[ 36 ] Indeed, the poem presents the principle of esoteric Christianity to us in the deepest way and, above all, brings to our attention what should particularly touch our souls on a festival such as the one we are celebrating today.

[ 37 ] The oldest of the brothers belonging to the Brotherhood who are staying here expressly tells the pilgrim Markus that what they do together here takes place in the spirit—that this is the spiritual life. This work for humanity on the spiritual plane holds special significance. The brothers have experienced both the joys and the sorrows of life. They have endured struggles out there; they have performed work out there in the world. Now they are here, but even here, work continues unceasingly on the further development of humanity. It is made clear to the pilgrim Markus: You have now seen as much as can be shown to a student to whom the first gate is opened. You were shown, through significant symbols, how humanity’s ascent should take place. But the second gate encloses higher mysteries: how humanity is guided from the higher worlds. And you can only experience these higher mysteries after a long period of preparation; only then can you enter through the other gate.

[ 38 ] Deep mysteries are expressed in this poem.

How early it was that his heart taught him,
What I can scarcely call a virtue in him;
That he revered his father’s stern word,
And was willing, when the latter, harsh and sharp,
Burdened his youth’s free time with duty,
To which the son joyfully submitted,
Just as, parentless and wandering, a boy
Might do so out of necessity for a small gift.

He had to accompany the warriors into the field,
At first on foot through storm and sunshine,
Tending the horses and setting the table,
And be of service to every old warrior.
Willingly and swiftly he ran at all times
Day and night as a messenger through the grove;
And so accustomed to living only for others,
It seemed that toil alone brought him joy.

As he fought with a bold and cheerful spirit
He gathered the arrows he found on the ground,
Then he hurried to gather herbs himself,
With which he bound the wounded:
Whatever he touched was healed at once,
The sick rejoiced at his touch:
Who would not look upon him with joy!
And only his father seemed not to regard him.

Light as a sailing ship that feels no weight
From its cargo and hastens from port to port,
He bore the burden of his parents’ teachings;
Obedience was their first and last word;
And just as play is a boy’s delight and honor a young man’s,
So only the will of others drew him away.
The father devised new tests in vain,
And whenever he wanted to demand, he had to praise.

At last, even he conceded defeat,
Actively acknowledging his son’s worth;
The old man’s harshness had vanished,
And suddenly he gifted him a magnificent horse;
The young man was released from his menial duties,
And instead of a short dagger, he carried a sword:
And so, having been tested, he entered a religious order,
To which he had been entitled by birth.

Thus I could tell you for days on end,
What leaves every listener in awe;
His life will surely one day be equated by his grandchildren
With the most delightful tales;
What seems unbelievable to the mind in fables and poems
Yet delights it greatly,
It hears here and is glad to accept it,
Twice as pleased to believe it to be true.

And if you ask me what the Chosen One’s name is,
Whom the eye of prudence singled out?
Whom I praise often, yet never sufficiently,
To whom so many incredible things happened?
Humanus is the name of the saint, the sage,
The finest man I have ever seen with my own eyes:
And his lineage, as the princes call it,
You shall come to know along with his ancestors.

The old man spoke these words and would have spoken more,
For he was full of wondrous things,
And we will delight for many weeks to come
In all that he is to tell us;
But just then his speech was interrupted,
As his heart swelled most strongly toward his guest.
The other brothers came and went frequently,
Until they took the words from his mouth.

And now that Mark, having enjoyed his meal,
Bowed to the Lord and his hosts,
He asked for another clean bowl
Full of water, and that, too, was handed to him.
Then they led him to the great hall,
Where a rare sight presented itself to him.
What he saw there shall not remain hidden,
I will describe it to you faithfully.

There was no ornamentation here to dazzle the eyes,
A bold cross vault soared upward,
And he saw thirteen chairs along the walls
Arranged in a circle, as in a devout choir,
Exquisitely carved by skilled hands;
A small lectern stood before each one.
Here one felt oneself surrendered to devotion
And the tranquility of life and a communal existence.

Above them he saw thirteen shields hanging,
For each chair had one assigned to it.
They did not seem to flaunt ancestral pride here,
Each one seemed significant and carefully chosen,
And Brother Markus burned with longing
To know what so many an image conceals;
In the center, he glimpsed that symbol
for the second time: a cross with rose branches.

The soul can conjure up many things here,
one object drawing the eye away from another;
and helmets hang above many a shield,
swords and lances can also be seen here and there,
Weapons, such as might be gathered from the battlefields
Adorn this place:
Here are banners and rifles from foreign lands,
And, if I see correctly, chains and ribbons there as well!

Each one sinks to his knees before his chair,
Striking his chest in silent prayer;
Short songs ring from their lips,
In which devout joy is nourished;
Then the faithfully united brothers
Bless one another for a brief sleep undisturbed by fantasy:
Only Markus remains, as the others leave,
Standing with a few others, gazing around the hall.

As weary as he is, he still wishes to stay awake,
For many a vision powerfully stirs him:
Here he sees a fiery-colored dragon,
Quenching its thirst in wild flames;
Here, an arm in a bear’s maw,
From which blood gushes in hot streams;
The two shields hung, of equal width,
To the right and left of the Rose Cross.

Wherever he turns his gaze,
The more he marvels at the art and splendor;
The wealth here seems to have been squandered on purpose,
It seems as if everything created itself.
Should he be surprised that the work is complete?
Should he be surprised that it was conceived this way?
It seems to him as if, with heavenly delight,
He is only now beginning to truly live in these moments.

You have come here along wondrous paths,
The old man addresses him again in a friendly tone;
Let these images invite you to stay,
Until you learn what many a hero has done;
What is hidden here cannot be guessed,
Unless it is revealed to you in confidence;
You can well imagine how much has been suffered here,
Lived, lost, and what was won.

But do not think that the old man speaks only of ancient times
—much is still happening here;
What you see will mean more and more;
A tapestry will soon cover it, and soon a pile carpet.
If it pleases you, you may prepare yourself:
You have come, O friend, only through the first gate;
You have been warmly welcomed in the forecourt,
And you seem to me worthy of entering the innermost sanctum.

[ 39 ] After a brief rest, our brother Markus begins to sense at least something of what lies within. He has allowed the ascent of the human self to take effect upon his soul through meaningful symbols, and when, after a brief rest, he is awakened by a sign, he comes to a gate, which he finds locked. And he hears a strange triad: three beats, and the whole thing seems to be permeated by the sound of a flute. He cannot look inside; he cannot see what is happening in that room.

[ 40 ] Nothing more needs to be said to us than these few words to point, in a profound way, to what awaits a person when he approaches the spiritual worlds—when he has been purified and perfected through work on himself to such an extent that he has passed through the astral world and is then approaching the higher worlds —those worlds in which the spiritual archetypes of things here on Earth are to be found—when he approaches what is called the heavenly world in esoteric Christianity. Then he first approaches it through a world of flowing colors, and he then enters a world of sounds, the harmony of the worlds, the music of the spheres. The spiritual world is a world of sounds. One who has developed his higher Self up to the higher worlds must become attuned to this spiritual world. It is Goethe, in particular, who clearly expressed the higher experience of a world of spiritual sound in his Faust, when he has Faust raptured into heaven and the heavenly world reveals itself to him through sounds.

The sun resounds in the ancient way
A song of rivalry in the spheres of brotherhood ...

[ 41 ] The physical sun does not sound, but the spiritual sun does. Goethe captures this image when Faust, after a long odyssey, is transported upward into the spiritual realms:

Resounding to the ears of the spirit
The new day is already dawning...
It thunders, it trumpets; ...
The unheard cannot be heard.

[ 42 ] As human beings continue to evolve upward, they pass through the symbolic world of astral colors and approach the world of spherical harmony, the Devachanic realm—that which is spiritual music. Only very softly, very softly radiating outward, does the sound of the inner world—the world that lies beyond our outer world, the world that transforms the lower astral realm into the higher world permeated by the triad—resound to our brother Markus as he passes through the first gate, the gate of the astral. And as we ascend to the higher world, the lower nature of the human being is transformed into the higher Trinity: our astral body is transformed into the Spirit-Self, the etheric body into the Life-Spirit, and the physical body into the Spirit-Man.

[ 43 ] Brother Markus first senses in the music of the spheres the triad of higher nature, and as he becomes one with this music of the spheres, he gains his first glimpse of the rejuvenation of the human being who enters into communion with the spiritual worlds. He sees, as if in a dream, the rejuvenated humanity floating through the garden in the form of three youths carrying three torches. This is the moment when Markus’s soul awoke in the morning from the darkness, and when the darkness is still somewhat present; the light has not yet penetrated it. But it is precisely at this time that the soul can look into the spiritual world. It can look into the spiritual worlds just as it can when the summer noon has passed, when the sun grows ever weaker and winter has set in, and then, at midnight, the Christ principle shines through the earth on Christmas Eve.

[ 44 ] Through the Christ Principle, human beings are raised to the higher Trinity, which appears to Brother Markus in the form of the three youths who represent rejuvenated humanity. This is what Goethe expressed in the saying:

And as long as you don't have that,
This: Die and Be Born!
You are merely a gloomy guest
On this dark earth.

[ 45 ] Every year anew, for those who understand esoteric Christianity, the Night of the Epiphany is meant to point out that what happens in the outer world is a reflection, a gesture, of inner, spiritual events. The outer power of the sun manifests itself in the spring and summer sun. In the Holy Scriptures, this outer power of the sun—which is merely a manifestation of the sun’s inner, spiritual power—is expressed in the Gospel of John, whereas the inner, spiritual power is expressed in Christ. And as the physical power of the sun steadily wanes, the spiritual power rises and grows stronger and stronger, until it reaches its peak around Christmas. This underlies the words in the Gospel of John: “I must decrease, but He must increase.”—And He rises and rises and appears where the sun’s power once again attains its outer, physical strength.

[ 46 ] In order for human beings to now revere and worship this spiritual power of the Sun within this outer, physical force, they must learn to recognize the significance of the Christmas festival. For those who do not recognize this significance, the new power of the Sun is nothing more than the old physical force once again. But the one who has become acquainted with the impulses that esoteric Christianity—and Christmas in particular—is meant to impart to him will see in the growing power of the solar body the outer body of the inner Christ, who shines through the Earth, enlivening and fertilizing it, so that the Earth itself becomes the bearer of the Christ force, the Earth Spirit. Thus, that which is born to us every Christmas night is born anew each time. Christ will enable us to perceive within ourselves the microcosm within the macrocosm, and this perception will lead us higher and higher.

[ 47 ] What has long since become something external to human beings—the festivals—will once again reveal their profound significance to them when, through this deep esotericism, they are led to the knowledge that what occurs externally in nature—such as thunder and lightning, sunrise and sunset, moonrise and moonset, gestures, and physiognomy—is of spiritual significance. And at the significant points marked by our festivals, people will come to recognize that significant events are also taking place in the spiritual world. Through this, they will be guided toward the rejuvenating spiritual power symbolized by the three youths—a power that the “I” can attain only through devotion to the outer world, not by selfishly shutting itself off from it. But there can be no devotion to the outer world unless that outer world is permeated by the Spirit. That this Spirit is to appear anew each year, for all people—even the weakest—as a light in the darkness—this is to be inscribed anew each year in the hearts and souls of human beings.

[ 48 ] Goethe also sought to express this in his poem “The Mysteries.” It is both a Christmas poem and an Easter poem. It seeks to allude to the profound mysteries of esoteric Christianity. If we allow what Goethe sought to allude to—drawn from the profound mysteries of Rosicrucian Christianity—to take effect within us, if we absorb even a portion of its power, then we will become missionaries, at least for some among those around us; we will succeed in transforming these festivals once again into something full of spirit and life.

After a brief sleep in a quiet cell
A muffled toll of the bell awakens our friend.
He rises with undaunted haste,
The Son of Heaven follows the call to prayer.
Quickly dressed, he hurries to the threshold,
His heart already races ahead to the church,
Obedient, calm, inspired by prayer;
He rings the lock and finds it bolted.

And as he listens, at regular intervals
A blow on hollow metal is heard three times anew,
Not the striking of a clock, nor the ringing of bells,
A flute’s note mingles from time to time;
The sound, which is strange and hard to interpret,
Moves in such a way that it delights the heart,
Invitingly solemn, as if, accompanied by songs,
Content couples were winding their way through one another.

He hurries to the window, perhaps to see there,
What confuses him and fills him with wonder;
He sees the day breaking in the distant east,
Brushing the horizon with a light fragrance.
And—should he really trust his eyes?
A strange light wandering through the garden:
Three young men with torches in their hands
He sees them hurrying through the corridors.

He sees clearly their white robes gleaming,
Fitting them snugly and well,
He sees their curly heads adorned with wreaths of flowers,
And roses entwined around their sashes;
It seems as though they’ve just returned from nighttime dances,
Refreshed and beautiful from their joyful exertions.
Now they hurry on and, like the stars,
Extinguish their torches and fade into the distance.