The Rudolf Steiner Archive

First Lecture

[ 1 ] Anyone with even a basic knowledge of human history will know—even without resorting to much esotericism—that the word and the concept of “history” encompass many things, especially when one tries to view the concept of history not merely as something to be observed, but as something that, like all aspects of intellectual life, must be experienced. But life demands learning in all areas; and learning, in turn, demands patience in all areas. One could—and this may apply particularly to our example—translate the word “patience” with another; one could translate it as “the ability to wait.” An attempt has now been made to apply the rule of life contained in the words just spoken precisely to what we were able to accomplish yesterday.

[ 2 ] Our German spiritual science movement is now entering the seventh year of our work. Seven years ago, I gave a lecture in Berlin to a group of people who had already heard a whole series of other lectures from me. At the time, it had been presented, so to speak, as a bonus to another lecture series. So that was—now—a little more than seven years ago. The aim at that time was to find a transition—a bridge—from the feelings and spiritual interests that had arisen from a line of work—which, though it was spiritual science, was known by another name—into the spiritual science movement. And at that time, there was an inner possibility of finding a good transition. The lecture I am referring to was titled: “The Children of Lucifer.” At that time, the audience generally accepted the perspectives from a literary standpoint; the starting point had also been taken from the work whose performance we were able to experience yesterday—Schuré’s drama “The Children of Lucifer.” So at that time we began, so to speak, to speak about “The Children of Lucifer,” and “in secret” ^{1The use of the word “secret” has drawn some criticism against anthroposophy. Here we have one of those cases where this word is used in a perfectly understandable way. It happens in other contexts as well. But never in the sense of such nonsensical “secrecy” as some opponents would have people believe. In fact, it even happened that when I titled a book Secret Science, it was said: there can be no such thing as a secret science. This is, of course, just as self-evident as the fact that there can be no ‘natural science,’ but only a ‘science of nature.’ If I publish a Secret Science, I certainly do not want what it says to remain secret.} — and the word “in secret” is meant here in the sense in which one speaks of the secret nature of spiritual science — even back then, the underlying thought was that it might one day be possible to present this very work of modern spiritual life in a theatrical form before the eyes of an audience. The underlying idea was that spiritual life is a great unity and harmony, and that it is up to human beings to recognize and appreciate the most beautiful blossoms within the spiritual life of a given era. The underlying idea was that modern spiritual life is, in a certain sense, a chaos. But just as the world has, in essence, grown out of chaos, so too will a kind of cosmos of spiritual life for the future be able to blossom only if we take the trouble to select the finest blossoms from the chaos of modern spiritual life. The underlying idea was that it would be wrong to treat anything other than a modern work of art—one drawn directly from the full spiritual life of the present—from this perspective. Of course, over the course of centuries—or let us say even millennia—one could find many other works of art, modernize them, and present them to an audience today; but every spirit of the age has its own distinct character; and that which the spirit of the age itself is capable of creating must, if it is the right thing, speak back to that spirit of the age with the greatest warmth and the deepest intimacy. If spiritual life is to bear its most beautiful fruits, it will be part of its mission not only to teach people dogmas, not only to proclaim doctrines, but in a certain sense to open their eyes. It is generally not difficult to acknowledge something that has already established itself over the course of centuries or perhaps even just decades, but the spiritual life brought to light here is meant to be something that awakens the most primordial, most elemental forces in the human soul; and among the most elemental forces in the human soul is the inspiration to cast an open gaze upon all that is awakened around us by the sun of spiritual life—the blossoms and fruits of our present spiritual culture. Our movement aims to be an eye-opener.

[ 3 ] But if one is to grasp the idea and concept of history in a living way, then—as already hinted at—something else is required: patience, or, let’s say, the ability to wait. Haste and impatience hinder so many things that are meant to ripen as fruit in life; and it would have been downright foolish seven years ago to think of anything more than a gentle hint at what was to be realized later. What a hindrance it was at that time to proceed immediately with the execution of the envisioned plan for a theatrical embodiment of this spiritual work! It is enough to cite a single fact, and you will understand what prevented us from proceeding with the execution at that time. Anyone who looks into spiritual life knows that there are certain great laws within it. That was also one of the great principles that resounded to you yesterday in the drama itself: Spiritual life has its laws, which must not be transgressed, which must be observed. — And one of the greatest laws of spiritual life—the violation of which will always take a heavy toll, especially in a movement such as ours—is the one that is laid out for us where the higher spiritual beings illustrate the nature of their work through the workings of nature itself.

[ 4 ] Take a look at the nature of this natural process; observe nature at work; and you will see that in nature there is always the possibility that countless failures will result from what is created. Look at the sea with its countless seeds that are cast into it, and observe how many of these seeds sprout into living beings. Ask yourself whether the creative beings of nature ever ask themselves: Should we mourn the failures we experience when we make so many attempts and see that the fruits of our creation wither away before our eyes? Solely through the contemplation of this great law in spiritual life does that which is meant to succeed also succeed there, just as it succeeds in nature—where life sprouts and flourishes—because the spirits underlying nature never grieve over their failures. It is solely for this reason that the work to be carried out in nature—that is, in the product of higher spiritual life—succeeds. Success as such is not a measure of what is right and true. That must be a law of spiritual science. This law had to be observed within our movement.

[ 5 ] This is truly intended to be nothing more than a kind of review of the facts, and at the same time, this review is to be placed in the context of certain ideas, laws, and facts that are intrinsically connected to our entire lecture series. As I mentioned, about seven years have passed since the lecture I referred to, and to our great satisfaction, we were able to see the performance of The Children of Lucifer yesterday before a full house. Over six hundred friends gathered yesterday to listen to The Children of Lucifer. How many among these listeners had attended that lecture—the first seed of this work? There was only one lady among yesterday’s audience who had attended that lecture back then and who had not previously been among our ranks. The lecture was also fairly well attended by the standards of that time. All the other people did not join our movement. But this is the great law of activity in the spiritual world: that the lost seeds are transformed and experience a resurrection. And in our own example, we find this law confirmed. You see that it is not wrong to connect the word and the idea of what is happening with the words “patience” and “the ability to wait.” Being able to wait until the conditions arise that make it possible to bring forth from the bosom of time that which we have allowed to mature. All human labor is powerless unless patience and the ability to wait accompany it, unless maturation and the process of ripening play a certain role.

[ 6 ] This does, however, provide a small measure of proof that certain things are necessary if anything is to mature in cultural life. It would, of course, have been a completely disastrous idea to stage The Children of Lucifer in just any ordinary theater production. For what is required to make the whole a unified whole? The main thing—and we must not forget this—is not those who perform, nor those who create the sets; nor is the main thing the work that is done, nor the preparations, nor the final touches. Once the work has sprung from the poet’s soul, then the first act is done. What happens next as a means of mediation is part of what I just mentioned: the performance and the work involved in the performance, and everything else—these are not the main thing; in a certain sense, they are entirely secondary. The main thing is the listeners and the audience. And the main thing is that a shared life flows through the souls and hearts of the audience—a life that enables these hearts not only to feel those mysterious currents emanating from the work, but to feel them in communion, in inner harmony. Within our movement, we speak—as our first principle—of the establishment of a core of humanity in which love of humanity and brotherhood thrive. Oh, this love of humanity and brotherhood—it is a delicate, though very important, plant. And it blossoms only where souls resonate in harmony with one another; that is, where a shared spiritual life vibrates through the souls in unison. That was present yesterday. Our movement is meant to be an instrument for strengthening, fortifying, and at the same time opening up our souls in this way, so that together, in harmony, we may allow a spiritual force—one that is meant to flow in—to flow into us. A common breath must be able to pass through our souls. Then the fruit of brotherhood, the fruit of spiritual harmony among people, will be able to ripen.

[ 7 ] And now compare what you saw yesterday with another theatrical performance, and ask yourself whether it is possible, amid the chaos of our inner lives, for a shared emotion to flow down from the stage and find a resonance, an echo, in people’s hearts. That is the true work of art—the one that plays out in our hearts. Once the work of art has sprung from the poet’s soul, it simply goes its own way; and its true purpose is only fully realized when it resonates in so many hearts and souls; and only then does the second of the main points at stake come into play.

[ 8 ] These words were spoken simply to highlight, even if only briefly, how our movement can become an instrument in human culture. People in our time will never come together to form a society of harmony, love, and unity if harmony, love, and unity remain mere words. There is only one thing that can provide the ground in which our first principle of universal brotherhood and universal love must take root: and that is communal work. What is meant by this can, of course, only ever be realized through individual examples. But if these individual examples continue to have an effect, if they are heeded, then they will permeate not only our spiritual life but our entire present life and will fill it. A truly human spirit will enter into human work and, through it, into human progress. And spiritual science will prove that it is the most practical force that can act as a catalyst in life. If only given the opportunity, it can permeate and enliven every branch of our life in the most practical way. Our present age is generally ripe for this in the sense that it demonstrates, in every field, the necessity for spiritual scientific intervention. Everywhere we see that the present demands of us: spiritual insight must flow into our lives. But humanity’s understanding is only slowly catching up with human needs. Our work may therefore remain pioneering work for a long time to come—work for the future. But it can wait; it will not impose itself; it has great patience. It will intervene where it is needed, where it is wanted. Of course, it must first do its work with patience, so that people do not later demand something in the world that does not yet exist at all. Oh, in the not-too-distant future, there will be many areas of human life where people will yearn for this work. There will also be areas of human life that today despise this work as the wildest daydream, as the worst kind of fantasy. People will demand it—demand it in places one would never expect today, places where today it is dismissed as a figment of the imagination and sent out the door. But for now, it will patiently go about its work. Nor is it so impractical as to misunderstand our present. It aims to be practical, to put theory into practice precisely where it really matters—to get down to the nitty-gritty, down to the last detail. Who could fail to see that the world of contemporary intellectual and cultural life still closes its doors to us in so many ways, that it does not want us, that it says, when we come with our practice: “Stay where you are, you dreamers; you dream of all sorts of supernatural worlds, of a spirit that does not even exist. We have no use for your practice!” Who could be so self-conscious as not to see this quite clearly? Is it not natural, then, to first attempt to be practical where the world of appearances operates, on the ground that merely signifies the world? If one is only clear about the fact that, in the right way, one presents an image of the real world within the world of appearances—then perhaps through this world of appearances, of beautiful appearances, of artistic appearances—that world through which the gods surely speak to us—perhaps through this world the first inspiration will be given. Because in art—when understood in its true sense—the gods truly speak to us, it is through art that we will most surely find the gateway to gradually penetrate, through our practice, into the so-called practical branches of life. Work is the ground on which our first principle can take root: brotherly coexistence, brotherly cooperation. If work is carried out in the sense indicated, it becomes possible to test—in the most beautiful sense of the word—whether it is possible among human beings to cultivate concord, harmony, and brotherhood. What then appears before the eye as in a picture, as in yesterday’s performance, is preceded by many things; and when it is finished, the viewer sometimes fails to form the correct picture of what preceded it. What preceded it in our case may rightly be called work in the spirit of the first spiritual-scientific principle of harmony and brotherhood—a collaboration and synergy.

[ 9 ] What we had in mind during our preparatory work was the freedom of the human soul within the unity of action, within the harmony of action. Perhaps not everything can be achieved all at once; but what we had in mind was that we could bring about unity without anyone having to submit to a machinery in which orders are given and then this or that is done, and so on. At least that was the idea we had in mind, and it has certainly been achieved in many respects—that each of the collaborators felt they were representing their own cause. And this brings me to the point where, since it is, so to speak, part of true spiritual life, a few special words need to be said. Not so much in order to speak about this one example of free spiritual work, but rather to speak about it precisely as an example of what can be the principle, the guiding principle, and the idea of spiritual community life. It has become clear to us that it is possible to unleash the forces within human souls—those that can be unleashed—when a spiritual idea passes through the hearts and souls, and when the souls are mature enough that each participant feels at home in their place. It can be said with the deepest satisfaction that those members of our movement who worked together to bring yesterday’s performance to fruition labored not only with devotion—I say this with full awareness—but above all with the deepest understanding of the cause; and so it was possible not only to bring together the performers of the drama’s individual characters into the whole that you witnessed yesterday, but also to create a unified whole through the work of our artistic members—work that was not only dedicated but also deeply insightful. It would be impossible to list in detail for you everything that was required of this or that member’s work. But if, from the first to the last costume, something whole is to emerge—something that not only, so to speak, always expresses the individuality brought to life by each performer, but also presents an overall picture—then it is necessary that this part of the work, too, be inspired by a common vision, and I am pleased to say that this esteemed member of ours, who undertook the immensely difficult task of creating our costumes in keeping with the spirit of the entire production, has worked with the deepest possible understanding. There was—and I say this with full awareness—an extraordinary genius in the way the individual elements were integrated into the whole. So much so that, if I may express a personal feeling here, yesterday I was truly filled to the very core with a profound sense of gratitude toward all those who, through such thoughtful work, each in their own place—a gratitude I would gladly express to each and every one of them today as well, a gratitude that also has another aspect: the aspect that allows this feeling of gratitude to flow back up to the universal source of our spiritual life, from which, in truth, everything we humans are capable of springs forth. And it is only because this spiritual life was at work that we were able to make this modest attempt to bring such a work of art to the stage.

[ 10 ] But it was also an opportunity to gain experience and insights. Those who worked in certain areas were able to take joy in how spiritual life, in a certain sense, possesses a triumphant power. This instills confidence and a firm faith in the future of our movement. Perhaps we can draw our faith in the greatness and the comprehensiveness of our movement from the broader perspective of the individual. For example, it was deeply satisfying to see how, over the past ten days, the spiritual power of the artistic work we performed affected not only the performers involved, but also the workers who were laboring in the theater with hammers and pliers—how they all, right down to the very last theater worker, collaborated gladly and willingly. This is something that is also part of the work of art when one’s perspective broadens from a narrowly defined framework to the point where the work of art, in turn, is meant to influence the entire cultural life through its spiritual life and spiritual power, like the sun. This gives strength and courage. But it also gives us insight into and a hint of the social mission of spiritual science. Yes, it has a social mission; it has a mission for the entire culture of humanity and the well-being of all humanity. Oh, there are many souls in our time who believe that human well-being and salvation can return to our fractured lives only through material means and material measures, and who have lost their faith and trust in the victorious power of spirituality. Practice, however, teaches us that the spirit has the power to unleash secret joys and a secret, devotional delight within the human soul; it teaches us that as we become increasingly capable of offering the bread of spiritual life in our present time, there will be human souls who long to partake of this bread. Spirituality possesses a victorious power.

[ 11 ] Such an insight, which can be gained over the course of ten days, can indeed be instructive. It can give us faith in what we seek as adherents of spiritual science; and it can give us the courage to continue working tirelessly on the task we have in mind. The spiritual scientist must have this open view of life so that he may learn from it. For it is only by looking back on every step of our lives as learners that we can make progress. Just as we were able to wait seven years for this ideal, so will we be able to wait for other things—for many things that are to come about through our movement—until they have ripened in the bosom of time. We will be able to wait in faith. For if we correctly understand spiritual science in the sense of the present, we possess the central point of what is called faith in the highest sense; we have always placed this central point before our eyes; we have always held before our eyes that one fixed point which appeared to us yesterday through the symbol of the cross.

[ 12 ] We know what the cross means for the human soul. And over the years, we have strived to regard what comes to us as a gift from the spiritual worlds. We have strived to make this spiritual-scientific content an instrument for understanding this focal point of human progress ever more deeply, in order to comprehend Christ and the cross. When we recognize the reality of the Christ principle, we understand that this Christ principle is a force—a living force—that has been connected to human life on Earth since the beginning of our era, when this Christ principle united with a human being in the body of Jesus of Nazareth. Ever since then, it has been with us humans, working among us, and we can share in its work if we strive to use all the means at our disposal to grasp this Christ-principle—to grasp it in such a way that we make it the life of our own soul. But then, when we understand this Christ-principle in such a way that we know it is within humanity, that it is there, we can turn to it, we can draw living water from this source—then we possess that faith which can wait, wait for all that is to ripen in the bosom of time, which will ripen if we have patience. From the bosom of the transitory, the imperishable, the eternal, and the immortal will ripen for us when we grasp the Christ principle within this transitory realm. From the bosom of time, the timeless is born for us humans. When we stand on this firm foundation, then—proceeding from it—we do not have a blind faith, but rather a faith imbued with truth and knowledge, and we say to ourselves: What is to be will come to pass; and nothing prevents us from devoting our best efforts to what we believe is to come to pass. Faith, on the one hand, is the true fruit of the cross; it is what constantly calls out to us: Look at your failures—they are the apparent death of your work! Look beyond your failures to the cross and remember that on the cross was the source of eternal life, which conquered the death of time—not only for itself but for all people. And from these two ideas springs our greatest courage to face life. We need only grasp them in the right way. Oh, it has sometimes been objected by well-meaning people against the spiritual science referred to here that some who come to it—because they accept this or that seemingly on the basis of mere authority—weaken themselves and lose their strength. But whoever makes such a claim confuses the apparent with the true. The spiritual science referred to here does not weaken people; it is a force in which strength lives. What can the freshness, the sprouting and blossoming of a free, vast nature and the fresh air of nature do if a weakened organism enters this fresh, joyful air and cannot tolerate it? If it is weakened even further, is it the fault of the fresh, joyful air of life? Should the air be different, or should human beings rather prepare themselves to tolerate this fresh, joyful air of life? Spiritual knowledge seeks to be a healthy air of the spirit. No wonder that, at times, amid the morbid atmosphere of our spiritual life as it exists today, a weakened organism feels powerless and frail at the beginning of its spiritual scientific journey. Patience and courage, which spring from a truly understood Christ principle, are the genuine, true fruits of one aspect of the spiritual life referred to here. But there is one more thing that belongs to it. Courage, perseverance, and faith alone are not enough; there is one more element that belongs to it, and it becomes more and more essential the further we stride toward the future.

[ 13 ] That is to say: once we have recognized an idea as the right one, we must not allow anything to shake our conviction of its correctness. We can tell ourselves a thousand times that it cannot be realized at this moment; we must wait with patience and perseverance until its realization becomes possible. If we believe that, in the course of human life, it is the Christ-force that allows everything to mature from the bosom of time at the right moment, then we must nonetheless have a conviction regarding the correctness—the unquestionable correctness—of our spiritual content. If we can wait for success, we will be less and less compelled to merely wait when it comes to recognizing what is right, true, and wise as true, wise, and right. It is only the cross that gives the right understanding courage and faith in life; but it is the star—the star that was once held by Lucifer, the bearer of light, but which he lost and which passed to the Christ principle—that star which can enlighten us at every moment, if we surrender ourselves to it, regarding the correctness, the indisputability of our spiritual content. This is the other point of strength upon which we must stand firm. We must be able to acquire a knowledge that penetrates into the depths of life, that goes beyond outward, material appearances, that shines where there is light—even when it grows dark for the human eye, for the human mind, and for outward perception. It was necessary for human development that the Christ event occur in the course of humanity’s progress, and in the coming days we will have to point out just how necessary it was. It was necessary—as is so profoundly hinted at in the Gospel of John—that this darkness should descend upon humanity for a time. What we call the Christ-principle, the Christ, shone into this darkness. It is in reality just as it is described in the Gospel of John. But all life moves forward; all life continues. A wonderful, magnificent legend of humanity tells that when Lucifer fell from heaven to earth, a gemstone fell from his crown. From this gemstone—so the legend tells us—came the vessel in which Christ Jesus celebrated the Last Supper with his disciples; the vessel that caught the blood of Christ as it flowed from the cross; that vessel which was brought by angels to the Western world and is received there by those who seek to attain a true understanding of the Christ principle. It was from the stone that fell from Lucifer’s crown that the Holy Grail was formed.

[ 14 ] What is the Holy Grail? You all know that human beings, as they are today, are fourfold in nature, possessing the physical, etheric, and astral bodies, as well as the “I”; that in the course of human progress, this “I” must strive toward a perfection that increasingly fills it, and that it must rise higher and higher. Lucifer, the fallen ruler of the East, lost the gemstone from his crown; in a certain sense, that gemstone is nothing other than the full power of the human “I.” This human “I” must first be prepared in the darkness in order to see the star of Lucifer shine anew in a worthy manner within the light of Christ. This “I” had to elevate itself through the Christ Principle, maturing into the gemstone that no longer belongs to Lucifer—the one that has fallen from his crown; that is to say, it had to mature through wisdom in order to regain the capacity to bear the light that does not flow to us from without, the light that shines upon us only when we ourselves can do what is necessary to receive it. Thus, spiritual scientific work is the work on the human “I,” to make it a vessel that is once again capable of receiving the light that exists where, for the outer eyes and the outer human intellect, there is darkness and night today. An ancient legend says that Night was the original ruler. But this Night is here again; it is in everything that is filled with darkness today. But if we fill ourselves with that light that can dawn within us when we comprehend the star that the bearer of light—the other spirit, Lucifer—has lost, then that Night will become day for us. The eyes cease to see when external light does not illuminate objects; the mind fails when it comes to penetrating beyond the outward nature of things; the star that becomes us when clear and well-intentioned inquiry speaks—it illuminates for us what is only seemingly night, turning it into day. But this is also what removes all our paralyzing and crippling doubts. Then comes the moment for us when we have the courage to face life and the strength of faith to wait patiently; but when we also have that certainty that comes to us when the world of our spirit is illuminated by that light which tells us: There is no justification for doubt in the Absolute. If, on the one hand, we are able to wait and have the strength to allow our intentions to mature, and if, on the other hand, we possess the absolute inner certainty of the existence of the Eternal, the Imperishable, and of the light that illuminates the darkness of the mind, then we possess the two forces that propel us forward; then we have understood that it is our mission for the future to to unite two worlds; then we understand what it means: before our soul and before our spirit stand the signs of two worlds, uniting in love. Then we comprehend Christ’s cross and the star of Lucifer shining in the light of Christ.

[ 15 ] This may be cited as something that, in a certain sense, constitutes the mission of spiritual science for the future: on the one hand, to give us the certainty and strength to stand on a firm foundation of spiritual life and to become receptive to the newly kindled light of the former bearer of light; and on the other hand, to ground ourselves in the other pillar of firm faith and firm confidence that what is to come to pass through the forces at work in the world will indeed come to pass. Only through this twofold assurance will we be able to accomplish what we are meant to accomplish in the world; only through this twofold assurance will we succeed in bringing spiritual knowledge into life.

[ 16 ] Therefore, we must be clear that our task is not only to comprehend the star as it shone through the Incarnation, until the gem fell from Lucifer’s crown, but we must also comprehend that we must take in what became of this gem—the Holy Grail—and that we must understand the cross within the star; that we must understand what shone as luminous wisdom in primeval times—what we revere most deeply as the wisdom of pre-Christian times, to which we truly look up with full devotion—and that we must add to this what the world has been able to become through the mission of the Cross. We must not overlook even the slightest thing from pre-Christian wisdom; we must not overlook even the slightest thing from the light of the Orient. We look to Phosphoros, the bearer of light; indeed, we recognize this former bearer of light as the being who alone can make the whole profound inner meaning of Christ comprehensible to us; but we see, alongside Phosphoros, Christophoros, the bearer of Christ, and strive to understand the spiritual-scientific mission—that it can only be fulfilled when the signs of these two worlds truly “unite in love.” If we understand this mission in this way, then the star will be our guide to the security of a luminous spiritual life; then Christ will be our guide to the inner warmth of our soul in faith and trust that what may be called the “birth of the Eternal from the temporal” will come to pass. Let us always remember the principle: that if what we desire is right, nothing can deter us from waiting until the fruits ripen. If we stand firm, gazing toward the star that Lucifer has lost on the one hand, and toward the cross of Christ on the other, then we will penetrate the mission of spiritual knowledge inwardly and vividly; then we will increasingly strengthen within ourselves the certainty that the light shining from this spiritual knowledge is true starlight. But then, too, we will have ever greater faith and confidence that the fruits of this knowledge will ripen; then nothing will make us falter; then we will be able to accept all setbacks with patience and perseverance. Looking back on the small achievement we have attained so far, we will say to ourselves: Little by little, through our movement within humanity, we will create a small seed, so that the light of the East may find its reflection—its powerful, understanding reflection—in the Christ Principle of the West. Then we will also recognize that there is a light of the West that shines to make what comes from the East even more radiant than it is by its own power. A thing becomes radiant through the light source that illuminates it. Therefore, let no one say that any distortion of Eastern wisdom occurs when the light of the West shines upon this Eastern wisdom. What is beautiful, great, and sublime will shine forth. It will appear at its most beautiful, greatest, and most sublime when illuminated by the noblest light. When this idea, which we intuitively take into our souls, fills us, then we will be able to learn, through our feelings and perceptions, something greater from what is small; then we will learn from it to say to ourselves: We stand firm in our truths, and we wait patiently for the realization of these truths; we have the strength not to waver in what comes from the light on one side; but we also have the strength to wait, no matter how long it may take, until what we wish to plant as a seed in the womb of time bears fruit.

[ 17 ] We were able to wait until we could tackle the task so dear to our hearts: to present “The Children of Lucifer” in a form visible to human eyes. Spiritual science has its great tasks in all directions and in all areas of life. If we are already secure today through the light that these tasks embody—provided we have that one firm foundation beneath us—then we are also secure in the faith and confidence that the smallest and the greatest tasks, if we devote ourselves to them, must be fulfilled.

[ 18 ] And so we rely on the light that emanates from spiritual knowledge; and so we rely on the warmth that emanates from it and fills us—a warmth that can fill us with faith and confidence in our mission. And we continue to work in the true sense and in a genuine manner under the two symbols of the star and the cross—the “symbols of two worlds uniting in love”—working from moment to moment, working with firm faith that, if we come to truly grasp our task over the course of time, we are working for that for which humanity is meant to work: for eternity. For in human endeavor, eternity is the birth of that which matures over time.