The Rudolf Steiner Archive

11. The Christmas Tree — A Symbol

[ 1 ] On this day, which is meant to represent the feast of Christmas, it is surely fitting to alter our usual customs slightly, so that we refrain from seeking knowledge and truth and instead turn inward to that world of feelings and sensations that is to be awakened by the light we receive through spiritual science.

[ 2 ] That festival, which is now approaching once again and which is a celebration of bliss in the most beautiful sense of the word for countless people, is not yet a very old festival in the sense in which it must be understood according to our anthroposophical worldview. What is called Christian Christmas was not immediately present when Christianity entered the world. The first Christians did not yet have such a Christmas celebration. They did not celebrate the birth of Christ Jesus. And nearly three centuries passed before the feast of the birth of Christ Jesus was celebrated within Christendom.

[ 3 ] In the first centuries, as Christianity spread throughout the world, it was in keeping with the sentiments and feelings in the souls of those who had sensed the Christ impulse that these people withdrew quite significantly from the outward life prevailing at that time—a life that had been handed down from ancient times and had taken shape by the time of the Christ impulse. For a dark premonition arose in the souls of the first Christians that they should give rise to the impulse for a reshaping of earthly matters—a shaping of earthly matters that, in contrast to what had come before, would be imbued with new sensibilities, new feelings, and above all, a new hope and a new confidence in the development of humanity. And what was then to emerge on the horizon of the great world existence was to take its starting point—like a spiritual seed, so to speak—within the Earth.

[ 4 ] We have often, in spirit, transported ourselves to the Roman catacombs, where, cut off from the life of that time, the first Christians celebrated the feast of their hearts and the feast of their souls. We have transported ourselves in spirit to these places of worship. At first, no birth celebrations were held there; at most, there were the weekly Sunday services, held once a week to commemorate the great event at Golgotha. Furthermore, in the early centuries, memorial services were held for those who had spoken of the event at Golgotha with particular enthusiasm and deep feeling, and who had significantly influenced the course of human development, so that they were persecuted by the world that had grown old. The anniversaries of the martyrs’ deaths—since these martyrs had entered into the spiritual life—were celebrated by the early Christians in the first centuries as the birthdays of humanity.

[ 5 ] At that time, there was also no Christmas celebration. But the very origins of this Christmas celebration can show us how we still have every right today to say: Christianity does not consist merely in this or that dogma, or in this or that institution—which simply must be passed down from generation to generation—but rather we have the right to rely on Christ’s promise that he is with us, that he fills us with his Spirit every day. When we feel this Spirit filling us, we may consider ourselves called to a constant and never-ending further development of the Christian spirit. And it is precisely through anthroposophical spiritual development that we are called not to perpetuate a dead, rigid Christianity, but to develop—into the future—an ever-new Christianity that brings forth ever-new wisdom and insights from within itself. We never speak of the Christ who once was, but always of the eternally living Christ. And we may recall the eternally living, eternally active Christ—the Christ working within us—especially when we speak of the Feast of the Nativity of Christ Jesus. Already in the early centuries, Christians felt that they were permitted to imprint something new upon the organism of Christian development, that they were permitted to add that which truly flows to them from the Spirit of Christ.

[ 6 ] Thus, Christmas is actually a tradition that dates back to the 4th century of the Christian era. We can say that the first Christian Christmas was celebrated in Rome in the year 354. And it becomes particularly clear to us that, in a time less critical than our own, the followers of Christianity were imbued with the intuitive realization that they should continually draw fresh fruit from the great Christian tree of life. Therefore, perhaps we may also reflect on an outward symbol of Christmas—the symbol of the Christmas tree—which we have here before us, which countless people will have before them in the coming days, and whose special significance spiritual science is called upon to impress ever more deeply upon the hearts and souls of people.

[ 7 ] We might almost find ourselves at odds with the course of history if we were to cling strictly to this symbol. It would be a mistake to believe that this symbol is an ancient one. Indeed, the belief could easily take root in the minds of people today that the poetic Christmas tree is an ancient tradition. There is a painting depicting the Christmas tree in Luther’s family parlor. This painting, which was of course not created until the 19th century, depicts something entirely false, for in the vast expanse of the German lands, as well as in other parts of Europe, such a Christmas tree did not yet exist in Luther’s time. It is only a later symbol. This very Christmas tree, in fact, may reveal something quite remarkable to us. Might we not also say that the Christmas tree today is something that could be viewed as promising for the future, in the sense that people might increasingly see in this Christmas tree—perhaps gradually—a symbol of something extraordinarily meaningful and important?

[ 8 ] We may then turn our attention to this Christmas tree, provided we do not harbor any illusions regarding its historical age, and in doing so, we may in a certain sense recall what has often come to mind—the so-called Holy Legend. It tells us: When Adam was driven out of Paradise—the legend recounts this in many different ways, but let us now summarize it as briefly as possible—he took with him three seeds from the Tree of Life, which humans were not to eat after they had eaten from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. When Adam had died, Seth took these three seeds and placed them in Adam’s grave, and from them a tree grew out of Adam’s grave. From the wood of this tree—so the legend goes—many things were made: Moses is said to have fashioned his staff from this wood, and later the wood for the cross at Golgotha was also taken from this tree.

[ 9 ] Thus, a legend reminds us in a significant way of that tree of Paradise, which stood as the second: Human beings had eaten from the Tree of Knowledge, and the enjoyment of the Tree of Life was taken away from them. But a longing, a yearning for that tree, remained forever in the hearts of human beings. Driven out of the spiritual worlds designated as “Paradise” into the outer world of phenomena, human beings felt in their hearts the impulse toward the Tree of Life. What they were not permitted to have without earning it through their own merit and development, they were to attain by gradually earning merit through the use of knowledge, and by gradually making themselves ripe and capable, through their work on the physical plane, to receive the fruits of the Tree of Life.

[ 10 ] Those three seeds symbolize our longing for the fruits of the Tree of Life. The legend tells us that the wood of the cross contained that which originated from the Tree of Life. And throughout the entire course of evolution, there has been an awareness that the dry wood of the cross nevertheless contains the seed of new spiritual life, that from it shall grow that which, when people partake of it in the right way, can unite with their soul as the fruit of the Tree of Life—the fruit that grants them immortality in the true sense of the word, that kindles the light of the soul within them, and that enlightens the soul so that it finds the path from the dark depths of the physical world to the luminous heights of spiritual existence, where it feels itself to be a part of an immortal life.

[ 11 ] Without succumbing to any illusion, we may—if not as historians, then at least as sentient human beings—perceive in the tree standing before us as a Christmas tree something like a symbol of that light which is to dawn within our souls, so that it may grant us immortality in spiritual existence. We look within ourselves, and through the anthroposophical spiritual current we feel permeated by that power which enables us to look up into the spiritual world. We then look at that outward symbol standing before us as the Christmas tree, and may say to ourselves: May it be a symbol for what is to shine and burn within our souls, to carry us up into the spiritual world!

[ 12 ] This tree, so to speak, has also sprung up as if from dark depths. Only those people might criticize such an ahistorical perspective—as it has just been described—who do not know that that which physical perception cannot grasp through its outward causes nevertheless has its deeper spiritual causes. To the outward eye, it may remain hidden how this Christmas tree has strangely crept its way into outward human life. In a relatively short time, it has established itself as a joyful custom in the general course of world affairs. Outwardly, it may elude the eye; but whoever knows that all outward events are imprints of a spiritual process must sense that perhaps there was also a special, deeper reason on the outward, physical plane for the emergence of the Christmas tree: that the emergence of the Christmas tree arose as if from a deep spiritual impulse that invisibly guides humanity and may even have imperceptibly inspired certain highly sensitive souls to give outward expression, in the beautiful Christmas tree, to the inner light that is meant to shine in the world. And when such knowledge awakens into wisdom, then through our will this tree can also become an outward symbol of the Highest.

[ 13 ] If anthroposophy is to be wisdom, it must be active wisdom that permeates everything with wisdom—that is, it must enrich external impressions and customs. Thus, perhaps, as anthroposophy gradually spreads, warming and enlightening the hearts and souls of people in the present and the future, it may also gild the now-so-materialistic external custom of the Christmas tree, permeate it with its wisdom, and transform it into a most important symbol, after it has made its way into earthly life, as it were, from the dark depths of the soul in the course of the very latest times. And if we nevertheless delve a little deeper and assume that a deeper spiritual guidance has planted these impulses in human hearts, it does not seem entirely without reason that people should live out the thoughts inspired in them by this spiritual guidance through deeper feelings as they gaze upon the burning tree.

[ 14 ] It has, in fact, been an ancient custom in many different countries of Europe to spend the entire weeks leading up to Christmas searching for all kinds of tree shoots and shrubs—mostly deciduous plants—that could be brought to bloom or at least to sprout by Christmas Eve. And in many a soul, a sense of the indomitable life—that life which is to triumph over all death—began to take root when, on Christmas Eve, the carefully gathered shoots or branches of trees stood solemnly in the parlor and were artificially caused to sprout on the night of the winter solstice. That was an old custom. But the Christmas tree itself is of more recent origin. Where should we first look for the origin of the Christmas tree custom?

[ 15 ] We are familiar with the powerful language used by our great German mystics, especially Johannes Tauler, who was active in Alsace. Anyone who allows Johannes Tauler’s sermons—with their profound inwardness and their infinite emotional depth—to take hold of them will realize that back then in Alsace, when Tauler sought the deepening, spiritualization, and even the “heart-centered” transformation of Christianity, a very special spirit prevailed, one that sought out souls everywhere that were filled with the mystery of Golgotha. When Tauler delivered his sermons in Strasbourg, his powerful, fiery words sank deep into people’s souls, and many a lasting impression may have taken root there. Some of these impressions may have stemmed from what Johannes Tauler often said in his beautiful Christmas sermons. Three times, he said, God is born for humankind: first, by descending from the Father, from the great cosmos; then, by coming down to humankind and taking on human form; and for the third time, Christ is born in every human soul that finds within itself the capacity to unite with divine wisdom and to give birth to a higher human being within itself.

[ 16 ] Using all manner of beautiful, solemn expressions, Johannes Tauler conveyed the deepest wisdom, particularly in the Strasbourg region, and especially on Christmas Day. It is precisely such profound wisdom that may have sunk into people’s souls, and it may have remained there and continued to have an effect. Feelings, too, have their traditions. What was once instilled in people’s souls may have continued to have an effect from century to century. Thus, the feeling that sank into people’s souls back then—like all genuine feelings permeated by the spirit—may have found its way into the eye and the hand, inspiring the eye to see, even in outward symbols, the Resurrection, the birth of the light of the human spirit. That is why it may be a happy coincidence for materialistic thinking, but for those who know how spiritual guidance permeates all that is physical, it is more than a mere coincidence when we hear that the earliest reports of a Christmas tree having stood in a German parlor come from Alsace—specifically from Strasbourg. In 1642, we have the very first record of such a Christmas tree having stood in a home for the inner joy of those who wished to see, in an outward symbol, the light that is to be awakened within ourselves through the reception of spiritual wisdom.

[ 17 ] We can see, for example, from Meister Eckhart—the great predecessor of Johannes Tauler—just how poorly German mysticism was received by that branch of Christianity which clings to outward forms: he was declared a heretic even after his death, since they had forgotten to do so during his lifetime. And Johannes Tauler’s fiery words, which sprang from a heart truly filled with Christ, also found little recognition. We can see how that external Christianity, which does not believe in the true Spirit, reacted to the deepening of Christianity by Meister Eckhart, Johannes Tauler, and others from the fact that the first mention of the Christmas tree is reported to us by a spiritual opponent. The person in question thought this was child’s play; people should rather go where they could hear the true doctrine being preached to them.

[ 18 ] At first, the Christmas tree spread slowly. We see it appearing in central Germany around the middle of the 18th century, but even there only in isolated places. It was not until the 19th century that the Christmas tree became this increasingly common spiritual adornment of Christmas, a newer symbol of something that has endured through the centuries. For those who were truly able to feel all things in the radiance—not of nominal Christianity, but in the radiance of genuine spiritual Christianity—the Christmas tree always served to evoke beautiful human emotions. And you will readily believe that the Christmas tree is of such recent origin if you consider that the greatest German poets never wrote a poem about the Christmas tree. Had it existed earlier, a poet like Klopstock, for example, would certainly have expressed himself poetically about this symbol. Therefore, let this Christmas tree also serve as a guarantee that symbols for the Highest and the Greatest can arise anew. And these symbols can come to the forefront of our souls especially when we feel the spiritual truth of the awakening of the “I” in the human soul—that “I” which senses the spiritual bonds from soul to soul, and perceives them most clearly when noble people work together.

[ 19 ] Let us mention just one example that shows how the light of the Christmas tree shone into the soul of a great leader of humanity. It was in 1822 that Goethe—whom we have encountered so often when considering spiritual life in the light of anthroposophy—felt, upon completing his Faust, just how Christian symbols were the only ones capable of expressing his poetic intentions. And he also truly sensed how Christianity must forge the noblest bonds from one human soul to another, how it must establish those bonds of brotherly love that are not bound by blood but by the soul, that are united through the spirit. We sense what still lies as an impulse within Christianity when we think of the conclusion of the Gospels. From the cross on Golgotha, Christ Jesus sees the mother, sees the son, and there He establishes that communion which had previously been established only through blood. A son was given to the mother, a mother was given to the son—previously only through blood. The bonds of blood are not to be abolished by Christianity. The bonds of blood are to remain. But spiritual bonds are to be added, which outshine the blood ties with spiritual light. That is why Christ Jesus spoke these words from the cross: “Woman, behold, this is your son!” and to the disciple: “Behold, this is your mother!” What was once established only by blood ties is now established from the cross through spiritual bonds.

[ 20 ] Wherever the spirit thrives in a noble intellectual community, Goethe always felt compelled to turn his gaze toward the true Christian spirit. For him, it was also a need to let this Christian spirit flow from his heart into his eyes. In 1822, he had a special occasion to do so. The people of that principality, to which Goethe had devoted so much of his energy, had come together to establish a higher secondary school. It was, as it were, a gift presented to the Prince of Weimar. Goethe could think of no better way to celebrate this small impulse toward intellectual progress than to call upon a number of people before Christmas to celebrate this progress of the spirit in individual poems, as best they could. He then collected these poems, which had sprung from the people, wrote a poetic preface for them himself, and the future Grand Duke Karl Alexander—who was a three-year-old boy at the time—was tasked with presenting the little book to Prince Karl August under the Christmas tree. For by 1822, the Christmas tree had already become a permanent symbol.

[ 21 ] With this small gesture, Goethe indicated that, for him, the Christmas tree is a symbol of the feeling and sense of spiritual progress, both on a small and a large scale. And in the poetic preface he wrote for this little book—which is still preserved today in the library in Weimar—Goethe celebrated the Christmas tree as this symbol with the words:

Trees aglow, trees dazzling,
Bestowing sweetness everywhere,
Moving in their radiance,
Stirring hearts both old and young—
Such a feast has been bestowed upon us,
Adorned with many gifts;
In wonder we gaze up and down,
Back and forth, again and again.

But, Prince, if it should happen to you
And an evening blesses you so,
That like lights, like flames
All together shone before you
All that you have accomplished,
All who are devoted to you:
With a spirit’s gaze raised high
You felt sublime delight.

[ 22 ] We may, so to speak, count this poem by Goethe among the earliest Christmas poems. When we speak of symbols in the field of the humanities, we may also say that symbols which, as it were, unconsciously or subconsciously rise up into the souls of human beings, enter the course of time, may be gilded and clothed in wisdom.

[ 23 ] Thus, in the 4th century, we see the Christian Christmas first emerge and observe how it was initially celebrated in Rome at that time. And it must be regarded almost as a providential arrangement that Christmas—not in an outwardly materialistic way, but through a mysterious providential arrangement—was woven into an ancient festival in the regions of Central and Northern Europe at a time when, since time immemorial, the lowest point of the sun’s course had been celebrated: the winter solstice. One must not believe that Christmas in Central and Northern Europe was simply transferred to this festival, to this time of year, because there was a desire to transform the old festival into Christmas, so to speak, in order to reconcile the peoples. Christmas was born purely out of Christianity. It is precisely through the adoption of Christmas in the Nordic regions that the deep spiritual kinship of these peoples and their symbols with Christianity has become evident. While, for example, Christmas was never adopted as a custom in Armenia, and even in Palestine Christians long resisted it, it quickly became established in Europe.

[ 24 ] Let us try, through an anthroposophical perspective, to truly understand the Christmas festival itself, so that we may perceive the Christmas tree as a symbol. Throughout the year, when we are gathered here, we allow words to flow to us from spiritual sources—words that are not merely words but are meant to be a force, one that is to become ever more effective in our souls, so that the soul may become a citizen of eternity. Throughout the year we gather to let these words, this Logos, resound in this space in the most varied ways: so that Christ may be with us always, and so that when we are together, the Spirit of Christ may work within us, so that our words may be imbued with the Spirit of Christ. If we speak these things with the awareness that the word is a vehicle for the Spirit’s revelations to humanity, then we allow into our soul that which is the Word of the Spirit. But we know that the Word of the Spirit is not fully grasped by us, nor can it be for us all that it is meant to be, if we merely take it in as knowledge in an outwardly abstract form. We know that it can only be what it is meant to be when it generates that inner warmth through which the soul expands and feels itself expanding through inner warmth, and finally, pouring out into all phenomena of worldly existence, learns to feel at one with that Spirit which is poured out over all phenomena.

[ 25 ] Let us feel that what reaches our ears as the word of the Spirit must become strength and life within us, by placing before us, when the time is right, the symbol that can call out to our souls with affirmation: Let that which can be kindled as warmth and illuminate as light—the word that comes to us from spiritual sources, from spiritual depths—arise within you as something new, as the spiritual human being; then we will also feel that what resounds to us as a spiritual word has meaning. Let us, in a moment such as today’s, seriously feel what spiritual science can give us in the form of such light and warmth of the soul! Let us feel it, for example, in the following way:

[ 26 ] Let us look at today’s materialistic world with all its hustle and bustle—how people rush about from morning to night, and how they judge everything in terms of materialistic utility, according to the standards of the outer physical plane, completely unaware that behind it all, the Spirit lives and works. People fall asleep at night, completely unaware of anything beyond the belief that they are simply unconscious, and that they will wake up again in the morning into the consciousness of the physical plane. Unaware, a person falls asleep after having rushed about and worked during the day, without seeking to understand the meaning of life. When the seeker of spiritual knowledge has taken in the words of the Spirit, then he knows something that is not merely theory and doctrine. He knows something that gives him the light and warmth of the soul; he knows: If you were to take in only the concepts of physical life during the day, you would wither away. Your whole life would be desolate; everything you gain would wither away if you had only the concepts of the physical plane. When you lie down to sleep in the evening, you enter a world of the spirit; you immerse yourself, with all your soul’s powers, in a world of higher spiritual beings, toward whom you are meant to grow through your very being. And as you wake up in the morning, you emerge anew, strengthened from a spiritual world, and pour divine-spiritual life over what you receive from the physical plane, whether consciously or unconsciously. From the Eternal, you yourself rejuvenate the temporal aspect of your existence every morning.

[ 27 ] When we transform the word of the Spirit in this way into the feeling we can have every evening: I am not merely slipping into unconsciousness, but I am immersing myself in the world where the beings of the Eternal dwell, to whom my own being is meant to belong. I fall asleep with the feeling: Into the spiritual world! —and I wake up with the feeling: Out of the Spirit!—then we imbue ourselves with that very feeling into which the word of the Spirit—which we have taken in here during a life dedicated to spiritual knowledge—is to be transformed, day by day, week by week. Then the Spirit will live within us; then we will wake up differently and fall asleep differently.

[ 28 ] When we feel connected to the Spirit of the Universe, when we feel ourselves to be missionaries of the World Spirit every morning, when we gradually feel connected to that which, as the World Spirit, permeates and interweaves all outer existence, then we also feel—when the sun stands high in the summer sky and sends its life-giving rays to the earth—how the Spirit works in an outward way and how, because it sends us its face, its outward face, in the outward rays of the sun, its inner essence, as it were, recedes.

[ 29 ] Where do we see this Spirit of the Universe—which Zarathustra himself proclaimed to be in the sun—when only the sun’s external physical rays shine upon us? We see this Spirit of the Universe when we can recognize where it sees itself. Truly, this spirit of the universe creates its own sensory organs through which it can manifest itself during the summer. It creates external sensory organs for itself. Let us learn to understand what covers the earth as a green blanket of plants from spring onward, clothing the earth with a new face! What is this? A mirror for the world spirit of the sun. When the sun sends us its physical rays, the world spirit looks down upon the earth. What springs forth there in the form of plant growth, blossoms, and leaves is nothing other than the likeness of the pure, chaste World Spirit, which sees itself reflected in the work it causes to sprout from the earth. The sensory organs of the World Spirit are contained within the blanket of vegetation.

[ 30 ] When the vegetation disappears in the fall, we see how the sun’s outward power diminishes, how the face of the World Spirit withdraws. If we are properly prepared, we feel within ourselves the Spirit that pulses through the universe. Then we can follow the World Spirit even when it withdraws from external view. Then, when our eyes can no longer rest on the vegetation, we feel how the Spirit awakens within us to the very extent that it withdraws from the outer phenomena of the world. And the awakening Spirit becomes our guide into the depths into which spiritual life withdraws—into the very place where we entrust to the Spirit the seeds for the coming spring. There we learn to see with our spiritual gaze and say to ourselves: When external life gradually becomes invisible to the external senses, when the melancholy of autumn creeps into our soul, the soul follows the spirit into the dead rock to draw from it those forces that, in spring, cover the earth with new sensory organs for the World Spirit.

[ 31 ] Thus, those who perceived the Spirit in the Spirit felt their journey alongside the world spirit, their journey alongside the seed as it descended into winter. When the outer sun has the least power, shines the least, when outer darkness is at its strongest, the spirit within us—through the spirit of the universe with which it has united, with which it has connected itself below—feels united with those forces that become most clearly perceptible and visible as they lead the seed toward a new existence.

[ 32 ] In this way, we literally live our way into the earth, as it were, with the power of the seed, permeating the earth. Whereas in summer we turned toward the radiant sphere of air, toward the sprouting and budding fruits of the earth, we now turn toward the dead rock, knowing, however, that: Within this dead rock lies that which is to appear once more as an outer existence. — With our own soul, we follow in spirit the sprouting, budding force that withdraws from outward sight and remains entirely hidden within the stone throughout the winter season. And when this winter season has reached its midpoint, when the deepest darkness reigns, then—precisely because the outer world does not prevent us from feeling connected to the spirit—we sense how, in the depths into which we have withdrawn, the light of the spirit springs forth, that light of the spirit for which Christ Jesus gave humanity its most powerful impulse. There we sense what people felt in ancient times, who spoke of having to descend to where the seed rests in winter in order to recognize the Spirit in its hidden powers. There we feel that we must seek the Christ in the hidden realm—that hidden realm which is dark and gloomy unless we have first enlightened ourselves within the soul, but which becomes bright and radiant once we have received the light of the Christ into our souls. There we discover that at every Christmas we are strengthened and invigorated by that impulse which has penetrated humanity through the Mystery of Golgotha.

[ 33 ] Thus, every year, we truly feel the Christ impulse as an affirmation of our striving, and from this impulse we draw the assurance and guarantee that, year by year, we strengthen within ourselves that life which leads us into a spiritual world in which there can be no death as it exists in the physical world. Then we can spiritualize and ennoble what for today’s materialistic human being is not a symbol at all, but merely an external, materialistic sensual pleasure. And we then sense in the symbol the reality, we sense the very same thing that Johannes Tauler, for example, means when he speaks of Christ being born three times: once from the eternal Father God, who permeates and lives through the world; once as a human being at the time of the founding of Christianity; and then again and again in the souls of those who awaken the spiritual Word within themselves. Without this final birth, Christianity would not be complete, and anthroposophy would not be able to grasp the Christian spirit if it did not understand what it means that the Word, which resounds to us year after year, is not to remain theory and doctrine, but becomes warmth, light, and life, so that through this power we may become part of the spiritual life of the world, be received by it, and be incorporated with it into eternity.

[ 34 ] This is what we should feel when we stand before the symbol of Christmas, feeling, as it were, immersed in the deep, frosty, seemingly lifeless world beneath the earth—not merely sensing, but recognizing that the Spirit awakens new life from death. No matter what stage of development we may be at, we can empathize with what those who were initiated have felt throughout the ages—those who truly descended on this Christmas around midnight, to behold there the spiritual sun at Christmas midnight, where the spiritual sun of Christmas midnight first evokes from the seemingly dead rock the sprouting, budding life, so that it may appear in the new spring.

[ 35 ] We ourselves feel united with those forces of the world that are at work, even though outwardly and physically they have withdrawn into frost and darkness. Let us feel this, just as all those will feel it who, around Christmas time, truly and constantly remember the spiritual sun—that Christ-sun that stands behind the physical sun. Let us empathize with them so that we may gradually ascend, experience, and then behold what a human being can behold when he continually develops within himself new forces that connect him to the spiritual. And what we spoke of several years ago when we celebrated Christmas—let that also conclude this reflection as the most important thing we can take in during the year and pour into our souls:

Let the sun shine
At the hour of midnight.
Build with stones<
On lifeless ground.

So find in the twilight
And in the night of death
Creation’s new beginning,
The young power of the morning.

Let the heights reveal
The eternal word of the gods,
Let the depths preserve
The peaceful haven.

Living in the darkness
Create a sun
Weaving through matter
Recognize the joy of the spirit.