The Rudolf Steiner Archive

First Lecture

[ 1 ] We are about to embark on an important series of lectures, and it should be noted that this series can only be undertaken now because we have been working in the field of the spiritual sciences for years. And it may further be said that the great ideas to which we will devote ourselves in the coming days require, in a certain sense, the mood that has been created for us by the two performances that took place in recent days. These performances were indeed intended to lead our hearts into that mood, into that emotional state, which is necessary so that what we are to encounter in the field of anthroposophy may be imbued with the right warmth and the right depth of feeling. It has often been emphasized how the abstract thoughts, the ideas themselves, that confront us in our field can only unfold their full power in our soul when they are immersed in this warm intimacy of experience. It is this alone that allows our soul to feel that, through our anthroposophical ideas, we are approaching realms of existence toward which we should not only have a certain thirst for knowledge, but to which our heart also turns, and toward which we can have a mood that we may, in the fullest sense of the word, describe as a sacred mood. And perhaps my own heart has not been so moved in all these years as it is at this very moment, as we stand before a lecture series of which one might not be wrong to say that it seeks to bring human thoughts a little closer to what, like primal words, has moved through human hearts and occupied human minds for millennia, to direct human hearts and minds upward toward what humanity is meant to perceive as the highest, as the most powerful thing that can exist for it: its own origin in its greatness.

[ 2 ] Before this lecture series begins, I would like to touch on a somewhat personal, anthroposophical note today, following the two previous days, precisely because we have been able to let the preparations for this series unfold within us. Already at the beginning of last year’s series, I was able to point out how symbolically significant these Munich events of ours are for our anthroposophical life. And I was able to point out how, over the years, we have been sustained by what we might call, in a truly anthroposophical sense, the patience of waiting until the forces for a particular work have matured within us. And once again, let me remind you that the performance of “The Children of Lucifer,” which we were able to bring to fruition last year and which we were so fortunate to repeat these past few days, required seven years of patient waiting on our part. Seven years of work in the anthroposophical field had to precede this production. Last year I was able to recall that, at the very beginning of the founding of our German Section in Berlin, I had given a lecture based on this drama, “The Children of Lucifer,” and that at that time the ideal of one day being able to present this drama on stage hovered before my soul. After seven years of anthroposophical work, this has been achieved, and we may say: This performance last year marked, in a certain sense, a milestone in our anthroposophical life. We were able to present an artistic expression of anthroposophical feeling and thought before the spiritual eyes of our dear friends. And it is precisely in such moments that we feel truly at home in our anthroposophical milieu, when we sense the permeation and interpenetration of anthroposophical life. The author of *The Children of Lucifer*, whom we had the good fortune to see here last year at that performance and during the previous year’s cycle, and whose presence we are delighted to have again this year, has created in his epoch-making work “The Great Initiates,” a framework of ideas whose impact on the souls and minds of the present will only be properly illuminated by the future.

[ 3 ] You would certainly be surprised in many ways if you were to compare the esteem in which the intellectual powers and intellectual works of the past are held today with that which prevailed in the minds of their contemporaries. It is so easy to confuse the way we ourselves think about Goethe, Shakespeare, and Dante with what their contemporaries were able to perceive and grasp of the spiritual forces that were incorporated into the evolving human spirit through such personalities. And we must, especially as anthroposophists, bring to our consciousness that human beings, in their own present, are least able to gauge how significant, how invigorating the spiritual works of their contemporaries are for the soul. When one considers how the future will judge things quite differently than the present is able to, then it may well be said that the appearance of the “Great Initiates” will one day be regarded as something of immense significance for the spiritual content and for the spiritual deepening of our time. For already today, from many souls within the widest circle of our present-day culture, there radiate the echoes of the soul that have been made possible by these ideas finding their way into the hearts of our contemporaries. And these echoes are truly significant for our contemporaries, for to countless people they signify security in life, comfort, and hope in the most difficult moments of this life. And only when we know how to take delight in such a great spiritual achievement of the present in the right way may we say that we carry anthroposophical feeling and anthroposophical mood within our hearts on a somewhat larger scale. And from that depth of soul from which the ideas of the “Great Initiates” shone forth, the figures of the “Children of Lucifer” have also been formed and shaped, leading us before the eye of the soul to a great era of humanity, an era in which the old and the newly blossoming collide in the unfolding of the world. And anthroposophists should understand how two things shine together in this drama: human life, human work, and human activity on the physical plane, as carried out by the figures who confront us in “The Children of Lucifer”; and shining into this work, into this activity, is that which we call enlightenment from the higher worlds. And by staging a drama that not only shows how human striving and human powers are rooted in the heart and mind, but also how inspirations penetrate from the sacred sites, from the consecrated places of the temples, how the invisible powers ignite and spiritualize human hearts—by showing this interweaving of supersensible worlds with our sensory world, we have been able to set a milestone in our anthroposophical movement.

[ 4 ] For I must reiterate this once again at the outset of our lecture series this year: The most important thing, the very essence of such an undertaking, is the hearts of those who are capable of understanding and embracing such a work. The great fallacy of our time is the belief that a work can be created and that it must therefore have an effect. It is not merely a matter of the magnificent works of Raphael or Michelangelo existing in the world; it is a matter of there being hearts alive in the world, souls existing, capable of bringing the magic of these works to life within themselves. Raphael and Michelangelo did not create for themselves alone; they created in resonance with those who were imbued with that culture, who were capable of receiving what they entrusted to the canvas. Our present-day culture is chaotic; our present-day culture lacks unity of feeling. Let the greatest works act upon such a culture: they will leave hearts untouched. This must be the distinctive feature of our anthroposophical movement: that we gather as a circle of people in whom similar feelings live, who are inspired by similar thoughts, in whom a similar enthusiasm becomes possible. On the stage, a drama unfolds in the form of a picture; in the hearts of the audience, a drama unfolds whose forces belong to the times. What the hearts in the auditorium felt, what took root in every heart, is a seed for the life of the future. Let us feel this, my dear friends, and above all, let us not merely feel a sense of satisfaction—which might be too easy—but let us feel the responsibility we thereby take upon our souls. That responsibility which tells us: Be exemplary for what must happen, for what must become possible, so that the contemporary culture of humanity may be imbued with the awareness that here on the physical plane, the human being is the mediator between physical deeds, physical becoming, and that which can flow down into these worlds of the physical plane from the supersensible worlds only through him.

[ 5 ] In a certain sense, we are a spiritual family precisely because we are drawn to the common, primal, fatherly principle that lives in our hearts—the very principle I have just attempted to describe. And when we perceive what we are experiencing in this way—with our hearts, with our entire spiritual disposition—when we perceive it by feeling that we belong to our anthroposophical family, then we also truly feel the joy and view it with the deepest satisfaction that we were able to have the author of *The Children of Lucifer* among us during the two performances and in the days that followed.

[ 6 ] Take this to heart so that we may truly feel: The living anthroposophical forces of the present are alive in the circle from which that which we have allowed to flow through our souls in recent days was able to emerge.

[ 7 ] My dear friends, it was already a cherished duty of mine last year to draw attention specifically to the very place where we were able to develop such a milestone in our anthroposophical work. And it was a cherished duty of mine—and I emphasize the word “cherished” here and would like to expressly note that you must not take “duty” in the trivial, everyday sense— it was and remains a cherished duty of mine to point out, even at this hour, how our friends worked not only with zeal but with the devotion of all their strength to bring about these anthroposophical events of ours.

[ 8 ] Those who see such performances may not always realize that it takes a long time for what is ultimately presented to the eye in just a few hours to actually come to fruition on stage. And the way in which our dear friends here at this venue worked together to bring the production to life can, in a certain sense, be described time and again as a model for anthroposophical work—and perhaps also for human cooperation. This is especially true because a true anthroposophical sensibility would be averse to issuing commands in any way during this work. Progress is only possible here when the individual friends are fully engaged with their hearts, in a way quite different from what could ever be the case in a similar artistic field. And this full engagement—not only during the few weeks we have available to prepare the performances, but this full engagement, this free and heartfelt collaboration—has lasted for years. And since we have gathered here on this occasion from the most diverse regions, and since anthroposophists are not meant to get to know one another merely by exchanging a few words, so to speak, but rather by knowing from one another what is sacred to each in their work, it is fitting, on this occasion in particular, to say a few words about how work has been carried out here over the years to bring together, at the right moment, what was necessary to establish an anthroposophical achievement such as the one we have been able to present in recent days. And even if external circumstances did not alone demand it, my heart would urge me at this hour to point out the devoted work of our friends, which has made possible what we have been able to experience. For you may believe: it is only through this devoted work that it has become possible.

[ 9 ] I said that I would like to begin this lecture series with a kind of informal discussion of what may be on our minds. Above all, we should take a moment to remember the many years of dedicated work by these two women, who have been working here with determination and in deep harmony with everything one could hope for in the field of anthroposophy. For many years, Miss Stinde and Countess Kalckreuth have devoted their entire energies to anthroposophical work here in this place. And I know better than anyone that it is only through this dedicated, purposeful work in deep harmony with the anthroposophical impulses that what we have been able to present to our satisfaction has become possible. And so you will find it all the more understandable that, on this occasion, I speak these words from a heart full of gratitude to these two colleagues here in Munich. Added to this is the devoted work of those who, so to speak, directly contribute their energies during the weeks dedicated to our work.

[ 10 ] Yesterday we attempted to present before your eyes, through an artistic image, the path leading to the heights where human beings can experience what is to flow through anthroposophical development—that which, so to speak, the soul researcher must experience. Perhaps, in connection with various points to be made in this lecture series, there will be an opportunity to point out this or that aspect of what was meant to be brought before your inner eye yesterday. The life of the one who strives toward spiritual knowledge had to be shown; it had to be shown how he grows out of the physical plane, how even here on the physical plane everything that happens around him—and which might appear to another person as something quite ordinary—becomes significant to him. The soul of the spiritual seeker must grow beyond the events of the physical plane. And then it had to be shown what this soul must experience within itself when everything that takes place around us—human fate, human suffering, human desire, human striving, and human illusions—pours into it; how this soul can be crushed and shattered, how the power of wisdom can force its way through this shattering, and how only then, when the human being believes they have become, in a certain sense, estranged from the sensory world, do the great deceptions approach them.

[ 11 ] Yes, with the words that the world is māyā or illusion, or: “Through knowledge we penetrate to the truth”—with these words, much is said, and yet, in a sense, very little. What is meant by them must be experienced by each person in their own individual way. That is why even what is generally true could only be shown—one might say, in a way that is spiritually imbued with life—by demonstrating it through the lived experience of a single individual. It was not to be shown how everyone approaches initiation, but rather how the entirely individual figure of Johannes Thomasius, from his own circumstances, can approach the gate of knowledge—that is what was to be shown. And it would be entirely incorrect for anyone to believe that they could present the event depicted in the meditation room—the ascent of Mary from her earthly body into Devachan—as a universal event. The event is absolutely real, spiritually real, but it is an event through which precisely a personality of the kind represented by Johannes Thomasius was to receive the impulse to ascend into the spiritual worlds.

[ 12 ] And I would like to draw your attention in particular to the moment when it is shown how the soul, having essentially already found the strength to rise above ordinary illusion, is then confronted with the possibility of great deceptions. Suppose that Johannes Thomasius were unable to see through—even if he does so not consciously, but only senses it with an inner eye—that the figure remaining in the meditation room and hurling the curse at the Hierophant no longer contains the same individuality that he is meant to follow. Suppose the Hierophant or even Johannes Thomasius were to be troubled by this for a moment. Then it would be impossible for an indefinite time to continue the path of knowledge for Johannes Thomasius in any way. Then, at that very moment, the whole endeavor would be over—not only for Johannes Thomasius, but also for the Hierophant, who would then have been unable to unfold the powerful forces within Johannes Thomasius capable of guiding him past this precipice. The Hierophant would have to step down from his office, and immense periods of time would be lost for Johannes Thomasius in his ascent. If you try to picture the scenes immediately preceding this moment, and the feelings that have stirred in Johannes Thomasius’s soul—the particular nature of the pain, the particular nature of the experiences— then you may come to the conclusion that the power of wisdom, perhaps without his even realizing it, has become so strong within him that he can survive this tremendous upheaval in his life. All these experiences, which unfold without anything visible hovering before the soul’s eye, must precede what follows in the proper way—that which objectively presents the spiritual world to the soul, initially in pictorial form, before the spiritual eye. This then takes place in the following scenes. It is the pain that first shakes the human being to the core; it is the force of the impulse that arises from his resistance to the possibility of the greatest deception. All of this develops into a tension in the soul which, if we may say so, reverses our perception and allows what was previously only subjective to step before our soul with the force of the objective.

[ 13 ] What you will see in the following scenes—which are presented in a spiritually realistic manner—depicts what a person gradually ascending into the higher worlds perceives as the external reflection of the feelings they first experienced within their own soul, and which is true even though the person experiencing it cannot yet fully know how much of it is true. There, the human being is first led upward to see how the time in which we live as sensory beings, in terms of its causes and effects, is connected to everything else. There one sees not merely that small fragment presented by the sensory world, but there one learns to understand that what appears before our eyes in the sensory world is merely the expression of something spiritual. Thus Johannes Thomasius sees with his spiritual eye the man who first approached him on the physical plane, Capesius, not as he is now, but as he was decades earlier as a young man. And he sees the other man, Strader, not in the form he has in the present, but he sees him prophetically as he must become if he continues to develop in the same way as he is in that very present. Only then do we understand the moment, when we are able to extend this moment beyond the present into the past and into the future. But then we are confronted by that upon which, as if by spiritual threads, all events of the present depend: then we are confronted by the spiritual world with which human beings are always in relationship, even if they cannot fathom it with their outer physical intellect or their outer sensibility.

[ 14 ] Believe me, it is not merely an image, not merely a symbol; it is a realistic depiction when, in the scene where the young Capesius develops his ideals out of a heartfelt emotion that is fully justified in the sensory world—ideals which, however, have one thing in common with the spiritual world: they are rooted solely in the external world perceptible through the senses— when it is shown that what he and Strader say stirs the elements, unleashing lightning and thunder. Human beings are not isolated beings. What a person expresses in words, what is active in their thoughts, what lives in their feelings—all of this is connected to the entire cosmos, and every word, every feeling, every thought carries on. Without the human being’s knowledge, his error, his false feeling, is destructive in the elemental realms of our existence. And what, above all else, settles upon the soul of the one who walks the path to knowledge from these first experiences in the spiritual world is that great sense of responsibility that tells us: “What you do as a human being is not merely done in the isolated place where your lips move, where you think, where your heart beats: it belongs to the whole world. If it is fruitful, it is fruitful throughout the whole world; if it is a destructive error, it is a destructive force throughout the whole world.”

[ 15 ] Everything we experience in this way during our ascent continues to have an effect on our soul. If it has had the right effect, it propels us upward into higher regions of spiritual life, as have been attempted to be described in the devachanic realm, into which the soul of Mary, together with her companions, preceded Johannes Thomasius. Do not take it as an abstract idea, but as a spiritual reality, when I say that these three helpers, Philia, Astrid, and Luna, are the forces that we, in the abstract—when speaking of the physical plane—designate as the soul of feeling, the soul of understanding, and the soul of consciousness. But do not succumb to the illusion that it is enough to attempt to symbolize the individual figures with abstract terms in an artistically conceived work. That is not how they are meant. They are conceived as real figures, as active forces. In Devachan you will not find, for example, signs bearing the words “Soul of Feeling,” “Soul of Intellect,” “Soul of Consciousness”; there you will find real beings, as real to the spiritual world as a human being of flesh and blood can ever be on the physical plane. One should be aware that one robs things of their richness when one attempts to explain everything with symbolic abstractions. In the world he had traversed up to that point, Johannes Thomasius had experienced only what one might call: the spiritual world spread out before his soul’s eye in pictorial form. Whether he himself, as a subjective being, is the instigator of this world, or whether it possesses a truth grounded in itself, he had not yet been able to determine. How much of this world is illusion and how much is reality—he had to reach a decision on this only in that higher realm where he encountered the soul of Maria.

[ 16 ] Just imagine that one night, while you were asleep, you were suddenly transported to a completely different world, and you could find nothing—absolutely nothing—in that other world that would offer you a point of connection to what you had experienced before. You would not be the same person, the same being at all. You must have the opportunity to carry something over into the other world and see it there again, so that the truth is guaranteed to you. This can be achieved for the spiritual world only by acquiring a firm foothold in this world that gives you certainty of truth. In a dramatic portrayal, this should be presented in such a way that Johannes Thomasius is connected on the physical plane not only through his emotions and passions, but through the depths of his heart to the essence of Maria, so that he already experiences the most spiritual aspect of this connection on the physical plane. Only in this way could that focal point also be the one in the spiritual world from which everything else in the spiritual world is verified. Through this, a certainty of truth radiates out over everything else in the spiritual world, because Johannes Thomasius finds a foothold that he has already come to know in the physical world in a way other than through the mere ‘illusions of the senses or the intellect.’ Through this, the two worlds are linked for him; through this, he matures, expanding his memory in a real way beyond past lives and thereby growing spiritually beyond the sensory world that surrounds us.

[ 17 ] That is why something occurs at this point that, if I may say so, encompasses a certain mystery of the spiritual world. Theodora, who on the physical plane looks into the future and is able to foresee the significant event before us—the new manifestation of the Christ figure—is capable, on the spiritual plane, of bringing the significance of the past before the soul. Everything, when presented realistically, must be depicted in the spiritual world exactly as it truly unfolds. The past, with its forces and their significance for the beings living in Devachan, becomes meaningful through the unfolding there of the opposing forces that we perceive here on the physical plane as prophetic forces. It is a realistic depiction that Theodora is, on the physical plane, the seer into the future, and on the spiritual plane, the conscience and the awakener of memories of the past, thus bringing about that moment through which Johannes Thomasius looks back into his own past, in which he was already connected to the individuality of Maria. Thus he is prepared to go through everything in his future life that leads him to a conscious recognition of the spiritual world. And you see how, on the one hand, the soul becomes something entirely different when it is permeated, filled with the experiences of the spiritual worlds, how all things appear in a new light. How that which otherwise causes us torment and pain, when we experience it as another self within our own self, gives us comfort and hope; how this outpouring into the world makes us great and significant; and we see how the human being, so to speak, grows into those parts of the universe. But we also see how human beings must by no means become arrogant, how error—the possibility of error—has by no means yet departed from their side, and how it is possible that Johannes Thomasius, who has already recognized much, much of the spiritual worlds, could nevertheless, at that moment, feel spiritually as if the devil himself were entering the door, while his greatest benefactor, Benedictus, was approaching him.

[ 18 ] Just as this is possible, so too are countless deceptions of every kind possible on the spiritual plane. This should not discourage anyone; rather, it must inspire everyone to exercise caution toward the spiritual world on the one hand, and on the other hand to face the possibility of error with courage and boldness, and under no circumstances to lose heart if something presents itself that appears to be a misleading report from the spiritual world. A person must pass through all these things in a very real sense if they truly wish to approach what might be called the Temple of Knowledge, if they wish to ascend to a true understanding of those four great powers of the world which, in a certain sense, direct and guide the destiny of the world and which are represented by the four Hierophants of the Temple.

[ 19 ] If we can sense that the soul must go through such experiences before it is able to perceive how the sensory world flows out of the spiritual world, and if we attune ourselves so that we do not wish to describe the primordial foundations of the world in a banal way with everyday words, but rather that we first wish to appropriate the inner value of the words, then only then can we gain a glimpse of how the primordial words are meant, with which creation is characterized for us at the beginning of the Bible. We must feel that we must wean ourselves from the ordinary meanings we carry in our souls for the words “heaven and earth,” “create,” “light and darkness,” and all the other words. We must wean ourselves from the feelings we harbor toward these words in everyday life, and we must resolve, at least to some extent, to imbue our souls with new nuances of feeling and new meanings of words for this lecture series, so that we do not merely hear what lies in the ideas, but so that we may hear it as it is meant and as it can only be understood when we meet what speaks to us from dark realms of the world with a soul attuned specifically to this purpose.

[ 20 ] In a very brief outline, I tried to explain to you what we showed you yesterday. The fact that we were able to present this under relatively difficult circumstances was, in turn, only possible thanks to the faithful, dedicated work of many of our anthroposophical friends. And let me also express what is my deepest heartfelt need: that I myself, and indeed all who know anything about it, cannot thank enough all those who worked with us to make it possible to dare this attempt—for it was meant to be nothing more than an attempt. It was truly not undertaken under the easiest of conditions; those who collaborated had to work with full commitment and dedication for weeks on end, and especially during the final week. And we may count it as a fine achievement of our anthroposophical life that we have artists in our midst who have now stood by us faithfully for two years with their artistic power. Let me first and foremost remember our dear friend Doser, who not only undertook the difficult task of bringing *Phosphoros* to the stage last year and this year, but who also took on the role this year of portraying the figure who was particularly close to my heart and who is infinitely important for what we tried to present yesterday: the figure of Capesius. Perhaps you will only gradually come to realize why this character of Capesius is a particularly important one. And the other character as well—the character of Strader, portrayed by our dear Seiling, who has now stood faithfully by our side for two years—this character, too, is of great importance, especially in this context. In this regard, I must not fail to mention how our dear Mr. Seiling, through his quite unique vocal gift—I can call it nothing else—stands by us when it comes to symbolically allowing the spiritual world to play into the physical. All that which is loving and wonderfully satisfying, which you were able to hear in the voices of the spirits, we owe to this quite extraordinary gift, particularly in this regard.

[ 21 ] And it is my duty, above all, to thank those who gave their all in the leading roles, even though they had many other responsibilities in the field of anthroposophy during this time and indeed throughout the years. It may be said that perhaps only in the anthroposophical field can the strength grow that enabled Miss von Sivers to bring two such great roles as Kleonis and Maria to the stage on two consecutive days. Such a feat is only possible through the full deployment of the powers a human being has at their disposal. And with a heart filled with particular gratitude, I would like to commemorate the actress who played Johannes Thomasius here myself, and it will give me deep satisfaction in particular if this figure of Johannes Thomasius—in whom so much of what we call anthroposophical life is embodied—if this figure remains somewhat connected to the first actress to portray this Johannes Thomasius. That this has become possible at all under the difficult circumstances—which I will not describe further here—is due solely to the very intense, devoted way in which our dear Miss Waller feels for the anthroposophical cause. And if I were to tell you about the difficulties Miss Waller had to overcome, due to the shortness of time, in getting into the role of Johannes Thomasius, you would probably be quite astonished. All these things that happen among us, that take place in our anthroposophical work, concern us, since we are, in a spiritual sense, an anthroposophical family. Therefore, we should feel indebted to those who have devoted themselves so selflessly to such a task on behalf of us all—a task that, in this way, might perhaps—I ask you again and again to bear in mind that an outsider is not at all able to judge the difficult circumstances—have been impossible for any other individual to accomplish. And in these words, may you recognize the full magnitude and devotion that the performers have displayed in recent days and weeks, and appreciate how justified it is to speak of a deep sense of gratitude right here and now.

[ 22 ] I would have to speak at great length if I were to mention in detail all those who joined us in yesterday’s work. Let us first and foremost remember the man who, whenever there is a need within our ranks to do something in the spirit of anthroposophy, is always there with his whole heart and all his skill, let us remember our dear friend Arenson, who supported us both last year and this time with his beautiful musical talent and who made it possible for us to transition both “The Children of Lucifer” and what we attempted yesterday, at the appropriate points, in a dignified manner into something that can only be felt through the world of sound. And let me remember our dear artistic friends here in Munich. You have had ample opportunity over the past two days to see how we have attempted to harmonize everything—even for the external eye—with the spoken word and the music heard. You have seen how, down to the last speck of color, down to the last form, we have tried to shape everything into a unity. If this has been achieved in any way, we owe it to the understanding manner in which our artistic friends here—Mr. Volkert, Mr. Linde, our dear Mr. Haß—cordially collaborated on everything involved, so that what needed to be done could be accomplished in a dignified manner.

[ 23 ] And such things are only possible, as I mentioned at the beginning, when everyone works with a free and devoted heart. This year, too, we must give special thought to the work—which is hardly easy to grasp, yet which for weeks demanded the full attention of a person, a whole soul, and a whole heart—the work of creating all the necessary costumes in the proper manner. And just as in the previous year, this burden fell entirely on our dear Miss von Eckardtstein. She devoted herself to it, not only with dedication but, more importantly, with the deepest understanding of every detail and of the greater picture—which must never be lost sight of in the process.

[ 24 ] But all of this is merely a small hint of what, as I said, had to be said today out of a sense of anthroposophical family spirit, so that each and every one of us knows what is meant by this cooperation and this working together. And if you felt some satisfaction for your soul and your spirit the day before yesterday and yesterday, then let the feelings that permeate your soul flow a little toward those whose names have just been mentioned, and toward those whom you saw on stage as friends well known to you.

[ 25 ] With this, if I may say so, milestone of our anthroposophical work, we wanted to show, as it were, how the infusion of anthroposophical ideas and anthroposophical life into culture should be conceived. And even if humanity today is not yet inclined to incorporate into the rest of external culture that which can flow from spiritual life, we would at least like to show, through artistic imagery, how the thoughts and inner life that flow into our souls and permeate us can become living reality. Such feelings can be kindled by the premonition that humanity will nevertheless move from its present toward a future in which it will be able to feel the spiritual life flowing down through the spiritual and soul veins of human beings on the physical plane; that this humanity will move toward a time in which human beings will perceive themselves as mediators between the spiritual world and the physical world. And these events were organized so that this premonition might awaken.

[ 26 ] And when we have such a premonition, we will also find a way to restore worn-out words—words that today confront people with emotional connotations that make it impossible for them to grasp their full meaning—to their original light, to their original splendor. But no one will understand the monumentality inherent in the words that form the starting point of the Bible if they imbue those words with the connotations they have today. We ourselves will have to ascend in thought to the heights to which we tried to lead Johannes Thomasius, to where spiritual life pulsates, if we wish to understand physical life on Earth. In a certain sense, a completely different language must be spoken in these spiritual worlds. We humans, however, must at least be able to give the words available to us here new values, new nuances of feeling, and be able to sense something different if they are to signify what the first sentences of the Bible speak of, if we wish to understand the spiritual origin of our physical world.