The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The Feast of the Epiphany III

[ 1 ] For centuries, the Feast of Christmas has been a festival of the utmost significance for all of Christendom. And if we view this Feast of Christmas as a festival of remembrance, then we must reflect on everything that has been associated with this festival within the emotions and sentiments of humanity over the centuries. We recall how this feast of December 25 did not exist within Christian development until the 4th century, and how in that 4th century—for the first time in 354 in Rome—the feast of Jesus’ birthday was, so to speak, presented to the Christian world in order to pay a meaningful tribute to the times. For the fact that such a tribute to the times had to take place precisely in the 4th century lies entirely in the Christian instincts of human development.

[ 2 ] The Nordic peoples surged toward the southern European civilization. Much of what had been pagan custom still persisted in the vast regions of southern Europe, in the Roman and Greek territories. Much of the pagan customs also persisted in North Africa, in Asia Minor—in short, in those places into which Christian thought and Christian sentiments were gradually making their way. But Christianity was always intended not to be a sectarian movement for this or that group of people; rather, no matter how much it was opposed by various forces both within and outside its sphere, Christianity was designed from the very beginning to become nourishment for the soul and the heart of all people.

[ 3 ] Within the pagan circles of the North and the South, there still lived that religious consciousness which linked the powers of the gods to the stars, and the most powerful divine force to the sun. And within this pagan worldview lived the idea that, when the Earth experiences its darkest days at the time of the winter solstice, the moment has simultaneously arrived when the sun begins to redevelop its victorious power for all earthly fertility. This sense of the Earth’s dependence on itself, of its isolation from the cosmic-divine powers—this sense, so to speak, of the Earth’s solitude in the universe—was replaced at this moment of the winter solstice by a sense of hope: Yes, the blessed effects of light and love from the realm of the sun are returning and reawakening all that is fruitful on Earth.

[ 4 ] Closely connected to this feeling was humanity’s perception of its own spiritual nature. Especially within the ancient pagan religions, people felt deeply connected to the Earth. They felt, as it were, to be a part of the Earth; they felt that earthly life continued into their own lives. And so, while the Earth received its most significant warmth and light from the solar realm during the summer, human beings felt as if they were surrendered to that realm from which the luminous and warming rays of the sun descend to Earth. And during the height of summer, human beings felt surrendered to the vastness of the cosmos. At the time of the winter solstice, he felt intimately connected to the Earth, to all that the Earth had preserved from the time of the warming, luminous summer. At first, humanity felt, in a sense, alone in the vastness of the universe with its Earth, and it did indeed sense the descent of the divine-spiritual into the earthly realm at this time of the winter solstice.

[ 5 ] Thus, humanity had woven into the concept of this festival that which, in its feelings and in its entire life of soul and spirit, had most intimately connected it with the totality of the cosmos. And because Christianity encountered something most precious in this winter solstice festival, it could not be otherwise than that Christianity itself gave its “most precious thing” to the peoples who opposed it on this winter solstice festival. This most precious thing—in the sense of the transition that had taken place between the Old and New Testaments—had become, for Christianity, the remembrance of the birth of Jesus.

[ 6 ] What did it mean for an Old Testament believer when he expressed the entire mystery of human life and its connection to human death by saying: “When the soul passes through the gate of death, it sets out on the path that reunites it with the fathers.” — A longing to return to the fathers—that was a profound sentiment according to the views of the Old Testament. And over the course of the first four centuries of Christianity, this focus on the community of the fathers transformed into a focus on the birth of that Being who holds Christianity together. The sentiment of the Old Testament was transformed into a focus on Nazareth or Bethlehem, into a focus on the birth of the infant Jesus.

[ 7 ] In a sense, by establishing the Christmas holiday in the 4th century A.D., Christianity had contributed to the unity of people around the world and had associated a deeply cherished sentiment with the Christmas celebration. And if we look further at how this Christmas has been celebrated throughout the centuries, we see everywhere that, as the festival approaches, a genuine permeation of human souls within Christendom is associated with loving devotion to the Christ Child. We see something very special revealed in this loving devotion throughout the Christian centuries that followed the 4th century A.D. We must truly look upon the establishment of Christmas on December 25—around the winter solstice—with deep understanding. For as late as 353, even in Rome, the Christian festival was not celebrated on December 25, nor was it observed as the birthday of Jesus of Nazareth or Bethlehem; rather, it was customary there to celebrate the festival on January 6. This feast was intended to be a commemoration of John’s baptism in the Jordan, the feast commemorating Christ. And associated with this commemoration was the idea that, through John’s baptism in the Jordan, the extraterrestrial Christ-being had united with the human being Jesus of Nazareth, coming from extraterrestrial worlds, from heavenly realms.

[ 8 ] It was not this ordinary birth, but rather this descent of the Christ Being to renew earthly existence that was celebrated. On this day of Christ’s manifestation, people sought to become aware of the mystery that a heavenly being had united with the earth, and that humanity had received a new impulse for development through this heavenly intervention. This mystery of the descent of a super-earthly, heavenly being into earthly existence was still understood at the time of the Mystery of Golgotha and for some time afterward. At that time, remnants of ancient primordial wisdom still existed, which were capable of comprehending such a fact—one that could only be perceived in the supersensible realm. The ancient instinctive knowledge, the primordial wisdom that humanity had received as a gift from the gods at the time of its emergence on Earth—this primordial wisdom was gradually lost to humanity. It grew ever smaller over the course of the centuries. But at the time of the Mystery of Golgotha, just enough of it remained for people to grasp the immense significance of what took place in connection with this Mystery of Golgotha.

[ 9 ] Thus, in the early centuries, the Mystery of Golgotha was understood in terms of wisdom. This wisdom had almost completely faded away by the 4th century A.D. People had to take other things into account—namely, what the pagans were presenting to them from all sides—and they could no longer gain an understanding of the profound mystery of the union of Christ with the human being Jesus. In a sense, the true mystery of Golgotha became incomprehensible to the human soul’s gaze. And so it remained for the centuries that followed. Primordial wisdom was lost to humanity. It had to be lost, because from this primordial wisdom, human beings could never have attained their freedom—their ability to stand on their own. Human beings had, in a sense, to enter into darkness for a time in order to attain their own inner powers in freedom out of that darkness. But the Christian instinct has replaced the wisdom with which the Mystery of Golgotha was initially received within the Christian world—the wisdom with which the Mystery of Golgotha was, in a certain sense, discussed until it was later no longer understood—the Christian instinct has replaced this wisdom with something else.

[ 10 ] Today’s Christianity has little understanding of the profound discussions that took place among the wise Fathers of the Church in the early centuries of Christianity: such as how the two natures—the divine and the human—were united in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. This was something that spoke of a living wisdom in the early centuries of Christianity, something that later degenerated into empty abstractions. And of that holy zeal with which people sought to understand how the divine and the human were united in the Mystery of Golgotha—of that holy zeal, little remains in Western Christianity. But the Christian impulse is a powerful one; the Christian impulse is a mighty one. And so, in place of the wisdom with which the Mystery of Golgotha was welcomed as it shone across the earth, love took its place. And it is wonderful to see the abundance of love that has been poured out over the centuries of Christian development toward the infant Jesus, toward his lying in the manger. It is wonderful how this love continues to resonate in the Christmas plays that shine down upon us so magnificently from earlier Christian centuries.

[ 11 ] Anyone who lets all of this sink in will understand just how deeply Christmas was a festival of remembrance. Anyone who lets all this sink in will understand that, just as the people of the Old Testament sought to be gathered in wisdom with the patriarchs, so too did the people of the early Christian centuries seek to be gathered in their earthly lives—by offering their very best and their love to the innocent Child—around the manger on Christmas Eve. But who could deny that this love, which flowed from so many hearts toward the origin of Christianity, has gradually—right up to our own time—become, to a greater or lesser extent, a mere custom! Who would deny that we live in an age in which Christmas no longer possesses the vitality it once had! From the love dedicated to the Christmas celebration, something of the utmost importance has emerged even in the very recent past. People of the Old Testament sought to return to their origins by saying they wished to be gathered with their fathers. The Christian seeks to look toward the original human nature by turning his gaze to the feast of Jesus’ birth. Out of this Christian instinct, people associated the Christmas celebration with humanity’s origin on Earth, placing December 24—the Day of Adam and Eve—before the actual birthday of Jesus. And finally, out of a deep instinct, the Tree of Paradise became symbolically linked to the Christmas celebration.

[ 12 ] We first turn our gaze to the stable in Bethlehem, to the Child, among the animals, before His blessed Mother. We look upon this heavenly sign of humanity’s origin. And humanity, driven by its own sense of feeling, was compelled at the same time to look toward the earthly origin of humankind—toward the Tree of Paradise—and thus linked the manger with the Tree of Paradise, just as the sacred legend had already linked the origin of humankind on earth with the Mystery of Golgotha, that legend which states that the wood of the Tree of Paradise was miraculously passed down from generation to generation until the time of the Mystery of Golgotha, and that the cross at the Place of the Skull on Golgotha, on which Christ Jesus hung, was made of the same wood as the Tree of Paradise. Thus we see how, in the legend, the heavenly origin of humankind converges with its earthly origin.

[ 13 ] But all of this has, in a different sense, once again obscured the true Christian sentiment. And who can fail to recognize that in present-day humanity we see little sense of how, on the one hand, the Godhead is revered as a Father, while, on the other hand, the Godhead can be regarded as the principle of the Son? The distinct sense of the Father God and the Son God has been more or less lost to humanity—lost even within enlightened modern theology. And because this distinct sense has been lost, we see respected theologians of recent times advocating the view that the Son does not actually belong in the Gospels at all—only the Father does—and that Jesus of Nazareth was merely the great teacher, the proclaimer of the Father God. People today speak of Christ, and they still have some faint recollections of everything connected with the sacred history of Christ; but they no longer have a clear and distinct sense, on the one hand, of the Son of God and, on the other hand, of the Father of God.

[ 14 ] When the Mystery of Golgotha broke into the course of Earth’s evolution, this sense was truly alive and present. Over in Asia, at a site that was of little concern to Rome at the time, the Christ arose in Jesus of Nazareth—according to the view of the first Christians, the divine being who animated a human being in a way that had never happened on Earth before and would never happen again. Thus, this single event at Golgotha—this single indwelling of a human being by a divine being, by the Christ—is what gives meaning to the entire course of Earth’s development; and one must conceive of all preceding Earth development as the anticipation of this event at Golgotha, and all that followed as the fulfillment of what must follow from the Mystery of Golgotha.

[ 15 ] This was taking place over in Asia. And in Rome sat Caesar Augustus. Modern humanity no longer realizes what Caesar Augustus on the Roman throne represented: he sat there as the incarnate deity. The Roman Caesar was himself a god in human form. A differently conceived god on the Roman throne, a differently conceived god over there on the Skull Place of Golgotha—what a tremendous contrast! What a contrast! Let us look at Caesar Augustus, this god incarnate in human form according to the view of his followers and the dictates of the Roman state. He descended to Earth as a divine being. The divine powers have united with the forces of birth, with the blood, and within the blood the divine power that has descended into the earthly realm lives, surges, and swells. This is roughly how the dwelling of the divine on Earth was conceived throughout the entire world, albeit in various forms. Only among the Jewish people was this not the case, since they perceived their God as remaining in the beyond. Everywhere else, people perceived God as connected to the forces of blood. They perceived God in such a way that they could express this divine reality with the words: Ex deo nascimur. Human beings did indeed feel a kinship—even while living in the lower realms—with that which dwelt at the pinnacle of humanity in a personality such as Caesar Augustus. But everything that was revered there was a fatherly-divine principle, for it lived in the blood that is given to human beings upon their birth into the world.

[ 16 ] In the Mystery of Golgotha, the divine Christ-being unites with the human being Jesus of Nazareth—but now not through the blood, but through the finest forces of the human soul that strive toward the Highest. Now a God unites with a human being in such a way that humanity is snatched from falling into mere earthly-material forces.

[ 17 ] The Father God lives in the blood. The Son God lives in the soul and spirit of human beings. The Father God introduces human beings to material life: Ex deo nascimur. The Son God, in turn, leads human beings out of material life. The Father God leads human beings from the supersensible into the sensible, while the Son God leads them from the sensible back into the supersensible: In Christo morimur. — There were two distinctly different feelings at play. The feeling for the God the Son was added to the feeling for the God the Father. However, for the development of humanity, this distinction between the God the Father and the God the Son had been lost for other underlying reasons. And these underlying reasons have remained connected to humanity—and also to Christianity—to this very day. When we look at primordial human wisdom, we see everywhere how people—insofar as they are introduced to what this primordial wisdom offers—are convinced that they have descended from divine-spiritual heights into the physical-sensory world. Pre-existent life seemed assured to human beings. Through birth—or rather, through conception—people looked up into the divine-spiritual worlds from which the soul descends as it enters physical-sensory existence through birth.

[ 18 ] In our language, we have only the word “immortality.” We have lost a word in our language for the other side of eternity. We do not have the word “unbornness” in our languages. But if eternity is complete, then the word “unbornness” must exist just as the word “immortality” does. Indeed, what may lie in the word “unbornness” is even more significant for human beings than what may lie in the word “immortality.” Just as it is true that human beings pass through the gate of death into a life in the spiritual world, so too is it true that today this life in the spiritual world after death is often presented to people in an extraordinarily selfish manner. People live here on Earth. They long for immortality. They do not want to sink into nothingness with death. And so one need only appeal to people’s selfish instincts by speaking to them of immortality.

[ 19 ] Listen carefully to how countless pulpit sermons speculate on people’s selfish impulses in order to present the idea of immortality to the human soul. One cannot appeal to people’s selfish impulses in this way when speaking of pre-birth existence. For people do not selfishly demand to have been in the spiritual world before their birth, before their conception, as much as they demand to be in the spiritual world after death. They are there, and that is enough for them. Why should they care where they came from? Out of their selfishness, they care about where they are going. When, however, we arrive at a selfless wisdom, then “unbornness” will become as important to people as immortality is to them today.

[ 20 ] But in ancient times, a connection was established between one view and another. Back then, people lived in divine-spiritual worlds; through birth, they descended, connecting what they had experienced in those divine-spiritual worlds—in a purely spiritual environment—with human blood, and continued to live this out within human blood. From this arose the concept: Ex deo nascimur. The God who lives in the blood, the God whom human beings represent here in the flesh—that is the paternal God.

[ 21 ] The other pole of life—death—demands a different impulse from the life of the soul. There must be something within the human being that is not exhausted by death. This corresponds solely to a conception of the Divine, through which the earthly-physical passes into the supersensible-superphysical. But this is contained in the Mystery of Golgotha. The divine Father principle has always been the transition from the supersensible to the sensible, the divine Son principle the transition from the sensible to the supersensible: hence the idea of the Resurrection is necessarily connected with the Mystery of Golgotha. And the Pauline statement that Christ became what he became for humanity only because he is the Risen One is an integral part of Christianity.

[ 22 ] Over the centuries, people have increasingly lost their understanding of the Risen One, the “Conqueror of Death,” and modern “enlightened theology” has focused solely on the man Jesus of Nazareth. This man, Jesus of Nazareth, cannot be second to the Father. He could proclaim the Father, but he could not, in the sense of the discussions of early Christianity, stand alongside the Father. Yet standing side by side as equals are the divine Father, who brings about the transition from the supersensible to the sensible: Ex deo nascimur, and the divine Son, who brings about the transition from the sensible to the supersensible: In Christo morimur. — And exalted above both—above being born and dying—is a third principle that emanates from both, which in turn is equally connected to both, to the divine Father and the divine Son: the Spirit, the Holy Spirit. Thus, in human beings, we can recognize the transition from the transcendent to the sensible: Ex deo nascimur; the transition from the sensible to the transcendent: In Christo morimur; and the union of both, the connection with that in which neither birth nor death has any substance—the resurrection through the Spirit: Per spiritum sanctum reviviscimus.

[ 23 ] For centuries, Christmas was a festival of remembrance. Just how much of this remembrance has been lost is evident from the fact that, for Enlightenment theology in particular, all that remains of Christ Jesus is the Jesus of Nazareth. But this also points out to us today that Christmas must become for us not merely a festival of remembrance, but a festival calling us to something new. A new being must be born. Christianity needs renewal, for by losing its full understanding of the Christ in Jesus of Nazareth, it has in fact lost its very meaning. But this meaning must be rediscovered. Humanity must once again recognize that the Mystery of Golgotha can be grasped only through supersensible understanding.

[ 24 ] Another factor has now been added to this failure to understand the mystery of Golgotha. We can look upon the manger with love, but no longer with a full, wisdom-filled understanding of the union of Christ with the human Jesus of Nazareth. Nor can we look up into the heights of heaven with the same feeling with which people looked up in those times when the Mystery of Golgotha took place. Back then, people looked up to the worlds of the stars; in the paths of the stars and the constellations, they saw something like the physiognomic expression of the divine soul and spirit at work in the cosmos. People saw in the sun something like the heart of this divine-spiritual, cosmic governance. In Christ, they could see the spiritual counterpart to this outer, sensory world that they beheld in the magnificent world of the stars. For modern humanity, the world of the stars—and everything one sees out there in the vastness of space—has more or less become the result of a mathematical exercise, a cosmic mechanism. The world has become devoid of gods, devoid of God. Christ certainly could not have descended from this God-less world that we study today through our astronomy and astrophysics. But for primordial human wisdom, this world was something else. This world was the body of the divine world spirit and the divine world soul. And from this spiritualized cosmos, Christ was able to descend to Earth and unite with a human being in the person of Jesus of Nazareth.

[ 25 ] This finds deep expression in the very course of human evolution. Throughout all ancient times prior to the Mystery of Golgotha, there were mysteries across the Earth—sacred sites that were also the highest schools, schools in which religious life was cultivated at the same time. In these mysteries, reference was made everywhere to what was to come. It was shown everywhere how human beings carry within themselves a power that triumphs over death. This triumph over death was experienced in powerful ways by the initiates in the mysteries. Anyone who wished to become an initiate had to develop within themselves that profound experience which instilled in them the lived conviction: Yes, you have awakened within yourself that which triumphs over death. — In symbolic form, the initiate in the Mysteries experienced what was to be truly fulfilled only in the future within the overall plan of world history. Among all peoples, the sacred mystery was proclaimed within the Mysteries: human beings can conquer death. But at the same time, it was pointed out that everything which could only be depicted in symbols within the Mysteries would one day stand before world history as a unique event. The Mystery of Golgotha was also foreshadowed by the pagan Mysteries of antiquity. It was the fulfillment of what had been foreshadowed everywhere, particularly in the sacred sites.

[ 26 ] Once the initiate had first undergone the preparatory stages of the Mysteries and then those more arduous exercises through which, in ancient times, one attained initiation—once he had detached his soul from the body to such an extent that, in its detachment, the soul could unite with the spiritual worlds and perceive within them, to arrive at the conviction that life always triumphs over death within human nature—when the initiate had reached this point, he was then led toward the deepest experience sought through these mysteries of antiquity. And this deepest experience consisted in the fact that, before the human being’s spiritual gaze, the earthly obstacle—the material obstacle—was removed so that what is at once spiritual and material could be beheld: the sun. And the initiate was led before that mysterious phenomenon—well known to every initiate—so that at the stroke of midnight he might see the sun through the earth—on the other side of the earth.

[ 27 ] Instinctive feelings for the most sacred and the highest have nevertheless remained with humankind throughout historical development. Some have faded over time, but for those who wish to remain open-minded, the ancient sense is still perceptible. And so today we discern from the fact that on Christmas Eve, from December 24 to 25, at midnight, the Midnight Mass is to be celebrated in every Christian church—and the Mass is, after all, nothing other than, in a certain sense, a synthesis of the mystery rites that led to the viewing of the sun at midnight— we discern in this establishment of the Midnight Mass the echo of that ancient initiation, which allowed the initiate, around midnight, to behold the sun on the far side of the Earth—enabling him to perceive the universe as a spiritual reality—and at the same time, resounding through the cosmos, to hear the Word of the World, which, from the orbits of the stars and the constellations, spoke of the essence of the universe.

[ 28 ] Blood divides people. Blood binds that which descends from the heights of heaven as the human essence to the material and earthly realm. People, especially in our century, have sinned greatly against the Christian principle by turning once again to the principle of blood. But they must find their way back to Christ Jesus, who does not speak of blood—who shed his blood and united it with the earth—but who speaks to the soul and the spirit, uniting all people rather than dividing them. So that, through the understanding of the world-word “Peace among men” attained with his help, peace may reign on earth.

[ 29 ] Thus, a new understanding of the Christmas festival can once again emerge, in which, through supersensible knowledge, the material universe is transformed into spirit before the soul’s gaze. The sun can once again become visible at midnight—that is, it can be recognized in its spiritual nature. Through this, an understanding can be gained of the supermundane Christ Being—the Solar Being—who has united with the human being Jesus of Nazareth. And through this, an understanding can also be gained once more of what is to live among the peoples of the Earth in the peaceful spirit that truly unites them: “The beings of God reveal themselves on high, and through these revelations, peace resounds from the hearts of people who are of good will.”

[ 30 ] This is the message of Christmas—the harmony between peace on earth and the divine light that shines upon the earth. We need more than just the memory of Jesus’ birth. We need an understanding of the idea that a new Christmas must come, that something must be born, that a celebration of birth must take place from the present into the near future, that a new Christ impulse must be born, and that Christ must be recognized anew through this new Christ impulse. We also need an understanding that the divine-spiritual heavenly worlds and the physical-sensory earthly world are bound together, and that the Mystery of Golgotha is the most significant expression of this connection.

[ 31 ] We must once again understand why, on Christmas Eve at the stroke of midnight, a call resounds within us, as it were, to reflect on the divine-spiritual origin of humankind; why, at this time, a call resounds within us to connect the heavenly revelation with peace on earth. We can do this only if we make the Night of the Consecration of the World our own conviction, if we do not content ourselves, in the old, habitual way, with exchanging gifts at Christmas simply because it has become customary—now that those warm feelings that inspired Christendom for centuries have been lost. But we need a new Christmas Eve—one that not only commemorates the birth of Jesus of Nazareth but also brings about a new birth: the birth of a new Christ impulse.

[ 32 ] With full consciousness, we must once again learn to understand how, in the Mystery of Golgotha, the supersensible expresses itself in order to be revealed through the sensible world of the Earth. We must, with full consciousness, understand once again what resounded in the ancient mysteries. There it resounded instinctively; with full consciousness, let us take it in. Once again, let us learn to understand how human beings can perceive the midnight sun, how they can sense the wondrous midnight harmony of the spheres—the convergence of heavenly revelation and earthly peace—when Christmas Eve becomes a reality for them.

[ 33 ] It is in this spirit that these words have been written, words intended to be dedicated to Christmas Eve precisely from these depths. They summarize what I have sought to convey to your souls and hearts at this hour. They seek to express, from the perspective of the anthroposophical understanding of Christ, how we can return to what was once human primordial wisdom—albeit instinctive—and what still remained to such an extent at the time of the Mystery of Golgotha that the appearance of Christ could be celebrated.

[ 34 ] But we want to regain this understanding of Christ as a cosmic being who has united himself with the Earth. The time when this is regained for a large portion of humanity on Earth is the time of the World Consecration Night, which we long to see approach. Then feelings will come alive within us that I would have liked to express with the following words:

May the sun shine
At the stroke of midnight
Build with stones
In the lifeless ground

Thus, in the twilight
And in the night of death
I find the new beginning of creation
The young power of the morning

Let the heights reveal
The eternal word of the gods
Let the depths preserve
The peaceful refuge

Living in the Dark
Create a Sun
Weaving in the Fabric
Recognize the Joy of the Spirit.