Each changing season enfolds an idea that has meaning for human lives. In writing about the festivals we endeavour to bring the mood and purpose of the season into an imaginative picture so that we all might enter into this yearly rhythm and re-connect with our mother earth. ‘Festivals are not celebrated in order to reflect the soul-life of the earth in its changing seasons, but to add what comes from the human spirit and the human heart.’ (Evelyn Capel: Festivals in North and South). It is up to us to bring something to the festival – not just to expect the festival to bring something to us.
The images given in festivals are always treasure houses of truth. The more we quietly contemplate them and hold them before our unprejudiced imagination, the more they reveal their meaning to us.
Michaelmas - Martinmas - St Nicholas - Christmas - Easter - Mayday - Whitsun - Midsummer
Michaelmas - 29th September
Since the ninth century, September 29 has been celebrated as St. Michael’s Day. The Archangel Michael is of particular significance for our time. One of Michael’s special tasks is inspiring humanity with the power to recognise the reality of the spiritual, so that gradually we will come to experience the spirit and allow it to become the working effective force in our human deeds
Many pictures show Michael as the dragon fighter, the dragon sometimes being portrayed as the devil. Michael (the name means ‘who is like God’) is our helper, who encourages us in our struggle against evil. The best pictures do not portray the dragon under his feet as dead, but with its overpowering force tamed. Michael helps us by creating for us a free space within which our own activity can unfold. This is achieved through his impelling the powers of evil into defined limitations.
The experience of nature during autumn, that of a ‘passing away’ illuminated by brilliant colour, belongs to the Michaelmas Festival. Life in nature withdraws expiring in beauty. Standing at the threshold, Michael shows us the way to a higher life, a life lived in conscious union with the spirit. A bouquet of colourful leaves and branches of berries on the table will give us something of this mood.
It is especially important at this time to stimulate the children’s will to do good and involve them in activities encouraging the good. To this end we can place scales on the festival table on the first morning of the festival. (A set of scales with two scale pans is not difficult to make with simple materials.) One of the scale pans is weighed down with a large darkly coloured stone. The child has the task each day of helping the Archangel Michael by placing in the other scale pan a small stone, a stone perhaps that was found during a walk or in the garden. The child is then able to see how the ‘good’ scale pan becomes heavier day after day until a state of balance is achieved and finally the weight of the good is victorious. Perhaps when the occasion presents itself one can tell the child that nothing, not even the smallest good deed, is ever lost, whether or not it is noticed by anyone. All good deeds are received by the divine world with joy because they strengthen the power of good in the world. This custom fits perfectly with Michaelmas. Children also like to fly home-made kites when weather permits. A parent’s help is often necessary here. It is a wonderful childhood experience to hold a kite floating in the air above firmly in one’s hand and then to have to pull it down again. This activity is an enacted symbol of us holding the forces of evil in our hands.Celebrating Michaelmas consciously gives the child courage for life and action.
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Martinmas - 11th November
From France comes the legend of St Martin, who as a young man passed under an archway in the city of Amiens and discovered a poor beggar huddled there. The man was nearly naked, shivering with cold, and had received no alms to assist him. On seeing him, the young Martin took his own cape from his shoulders, tore the garment in half and covered the poor man to warm him. The following night Martin had a dream in which he saw Christ wearing the same piece of his cape. The experience confirmed in him his devotion to all mankind regardless of their station in life, as expressed so beautifully in the Gælic Rune of Hospitality.
I saw a stranger yesterday
I put food in the eating place
Drink in the drinking place
Music in the listening place
And in the blessed name of the Triune
He blessed myself and my house
My cattle and my dear ones
And the lark said in her song:
‘Often, often, often goes the Christ in the stranger’s guise’
Martin went on to become patron saint of beggars, drunkards and outcasts. He was known for his gentleness, his unassuming nature and his ability to bring warmth and light to those who were previously in darkness.
When the days become short, the sun goes down earlier and the stars appear early in the skies, the children according to an old custom would walk with lanterns through the streets in the early evening, singing. This custom is worth renewing – especially if the children can make the lanterns themselves. As the world grows darker our Inner Light wants to shine forth. It is not incidental that the lanterns of class children are often decorated with suns and moons and stars, motifs which also appear in songs. They suggest heavenly forces which want to live in the souls of human beings on Earth.
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St. Nicholas - The Gift Bringer 6th December
Christmastide gifts are unlike gifts at any other time of the year, in that the bringer of the gift is in some way obscure, magical, and otherworldly. The gifts may be left at night while we sleep or by day with fanfare, but the bringer has the capacity to appear in person simultaneously in households the world over. He may come from heaven, the North Pole or a far distant country whence he must travel by horse or reindeer. He is often associated with fire, either descending a chimney or leaving his gifts by the hearth. In his more ancient, mythical form he has a double nature, coming both to delight and to chastise. Like the ancient gods from whom he is descended, he can read hearts and he knows our inner thoughts. Santa Claus, with his sleigh and eight reindeer is none other than Odin himself coursing the midwinter heavens on his mighty eight-legged steed Sleipnir, dispensing reward or punishment.
Older still, there is an echo of the even earlier renewal festival of the winter solstice and the quickening earth. Ancient Romans called this the Dies Natalis Invicti Solis, the birthday of the Unconquered Sun. But when Christianity drove out the old gods, the gift bringer reappeared as Saint Nicholas, a fourth century bishop of Myra in Asia Minor. Thus Saint Nicholas eventually became the patron saint of children.
Very little is known of the historical Saint Nicholas. He was a wealthy man, widely known in his day for his generosity and his great love of children. A legend tells of a poor man who had not the means either to sustain his three daughters or to dower them for marriage. In desperation he resolved to sell them to a life of sin. Upon learning of this, Saint Nicholas on each of three successive nights threw a bag of gold in through the window of the poor man’s house – enough to dower, or redeem, the daughters. These three round bags of gold are the origin of the three gold balls that hang before the shops of pawnbrokers, of whom he is also the patron saint. Saint Nicholas has his feast day of December 6th, during the first week of Advent: Advent means ‘solemn coming’. It is a time when we become conscious of the past deeds of ourselves and the Earth, and how these deeds work on into the future. This ‘coming’ can be understood as the spiritual evolution of human beings and the world. We enkindle our will by reflecting on how our deeds prepare the way for the One who is to come. We leave our shoes or stockings by the door or hearth. Shoes go with our footsteps and are often the embodiment of our will. The gifts at this time of year hold a promise, and often have the quality of a magical charm: money that you may prosper, sweets that your life may be likewise. At the Winter Solstice we have the promise of Spring; the seed promises the fruit; the child promises the adult of the future; the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not encompassed it. Saint Nicholas, the all-seeing, the compassionate, the judge, the gift bringer, the old, old, very old man precedes and promises the coming of that giver of the greatest of all gifts, that most loving and compassionate of judges, the new-born Christ Child.
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Christmas - 25th December
In the Christmas festival the great image is of a birth, surrounded by love: the Christ Child in the stable, with mother and father, shepherds and animals. In the dark of Winter the Son, the ‘light of the world’, has been born, just after the winter solstice when the light is now returning. It is the birth of the sun in the deepest darkness of the year.
As the sun awakens life upon the Earth, so the Son-spirit within us awakens us to our spiritual purpose and to our precious gift of individual freedom. Wintertime, when nature has withdrawn and thrown us on our own resources, is the time for quiet reflection and meditative thinking.
This celebration of a birthday at Christmas should cause us to think about our own birthdays and remember the questions we once so earnestly asked: “Why am I here? What is the meaning of my life? What is my purpose on Earth?” As we human beings come into birth with our individual destinies, we shape the evolution of the Earth, and it is becoming even more important that we consciously examine our lives and know what it is that we are bringing. We must kindle our inner light with the flame of the sun and shed it upon our purposes, aligning them with the purposes of the Earth.
Christmas is also a festival of love, as well as light - of great love which sacrificed its heavenly life to be born into human suffering and limitation that true humanity might develop. For us such great love is an image to contemplate. How much do we truly love those around us - in such a way as to leave them in freedom? At this time of year we should look to see how much warmth and selflessness there is in our human relationships. When we love one another - not in a sentimental way, but in a way which respects and protects the other’s individuality, then we allow the sun to shine through the darkness of our mistrust and selfishness. Rudolf Steiner described how this can be attained by really listening to and taking an interest in another’s thoughts, regardless of whether they agree or disagree with our own opinions.
We may turn then in two directions with this flame of the sun - inward with light to rediscover and renew our spiritual purposes, and outward into community with the warmth of love for one another and all the kingdoms of earth. Then we may really bring something from our spirits and our hearts as a true Christmas gift.
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Easter - Moveable date
Easter Day, the beginning of the Easter season, is determined by celestial events. It is actually read from the heavens. For Easter to be celebrated, the spring equinox, the day when the length of the day and night are equal, must have passed. Thereafter, we must wait for the full moon. The first Sunday after this first full moon of Spring is Easter Sunday. Passiontide therefore presents a good opportunity to direct the attention of class children to the heavens. They can thus begin to realise how great cosmic laws affect our earthly lives.
The festival of Easter derives its name from pre-Christian goddess symbols of rebirth, fertility and Spring: the Saxon Eastre and Old German Eostre. The ancient symbols of hare and egg, both known as signs of the return to life after Winter’s sleep, today carry the Christian association of the Resurrection of Christ. When we exchange Easter eggs as gifts we are re-enacting an ancient wisdom – that which appears to be still and dead in fact contains new life. The gifts of Christmas are given, but the treasures of Easter must be sought: ‘seek and ye shall find’. Something is hidden behind the veil of nature and the earth is asleep until new life springs forth to be ‘alive in us’. So we have the egg hunt. In searching for the egg, new life, we must have the will to seek. Although bunnies and rabbits are suitable symbols for the abounding fertility of Spring it is the hare which was the ancient symbol for Christ used by the Rosicrucians. In its natural habits it bears many Christ-like qualities. Whilst rabbits burrow underground and live in clans the hare lives wherever it is at the time, the earth its home, a symbol of individuality and solitary strength. It is a herbivore which lives alone and does not harm other animals. It is also an example of self-sacrifice, one of the great themes of Easter - for if a fellow hare is being chased and approaches exhaustion its companion will thump on the ground as a signal for other hares in the vicinity to help it to escape by changing places. The hare also brings us into the realm of the Buddha and the many connections between Buddha and the Christ. In legend Buddha lived as a hare which sacrificed itself and was then transferred to the moon. The moon has a direct link with the Easter festival in the calculation of the date of celebration.
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Whitsun - 50 days after Easter
Whitsun is known also as Pentecost or Shavuot, the latter two being the Greek and Hebrew for the ‘fiftieth day’ or seven weeks (after Passover). The disciples were together on this day and united in heart and mind. Into the harmony of their thoughts, feelings and common religious practice came the gift of inspiration from the Holy Spirit. In the great rushing flow of joy in their souls they were enlightened with the knowledge that Christ is united with each and every one of us in the deepest way possible; he has not disappeared – he is here. Being thus inspired, the disciples were able to go out and bring about a similar experience in other people, speaking languages that everyone could understand.
This festival can be characterised in many ways: the festival of flowers, the festival of awakening, of free individuality, of baptism, of the first fruits of the earth and of the first fruits of the spirit. It is a festival of community.
The Easter experience, the moveable feast, comes to each of us in our own time. Whitsun is both moveable and fixed, in that it follows fifty days after Easter; that is to say, the experience of death and resurrection leads in due course to the experience of understanding oneself as a spiritual being.
As the sprouting grain is a picture of resurrection, so the blossom is the image of the flowering of the spirit of Whitsun:
The heart of the human being may be symbolised by the flower opening itself to the sun; and what pours down from the sun, giving the flower the fertilizing power it needs, may be symbolized by the tongues of fire descending upon the heads of the disciples.
Rudolf Steiner, ‘The Whitsun Mystery and its connection with Ascension’
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Mayday
May day was in ancient tradition the celebration of the beginning of summer or Beltane in Celtic lands, and Roman tradition sacred to Flora, the goddess of Spring. The May queen is still representative of Flora, or Persephone her Greek counterpart.
If the wreath of flowers goes back to Spring goddess symbols, the Maypole itself represents, most probably, the tree of life and fertility. In the modern context both are just good, festive fun, and a reminder that warmer days are ahead.
Children and adults have traditionally worn flowers when dancing around the May Pole. A single blossom in the buttonhole or hair, or an actual ‘May Crown’ or wreath of flowers for the head symbolizes the full arrival of spring and the new growth.
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Midsummer - St.John's - 24th June
After the Summer Solstice, on June 24th, we celebrate St. John’s Day, the birthday of John the Baptist. At Midsummer, in nature, the forces of growth are at their height, the earth is in its most extrovert phase of the year. Likewise, there is a tendency in us as human beings to be outgoing, expansive, maybe even a little outside ourselves.
At the times of extremes of light and dark in nature (that is, midwinter and midsummer) we are in danger of carrying the tendencies of nature too far. We may expand too much at midsummer and miss the ‘turning point’ and so go on expanding and float dreamily through the second half of the summer, which for most of us includes the holidays. At midsummer
the contraction starts, even in nature, although it may not be very perceptible at first. It may seem quite unreasonable to us to start this process in ourselves just when it is getting really warm outside. Yet there we have, outside in nature, the perfect image of a rhythm of life in the cycle of the year.
In our day and age we might, on the other hand, like to consider ourselves more independent of the life of nature than people were in ‘the old days’. We do not, as adults anyway, expand and contract in our souls with nature to the extent people used to do. (We can also make night into day if we wish, or if our work demands it). We can experience a great amount of freedom in that respect. In this freedom though, lies the danger (or rather, the challenge). We easily get stuck in extremes, in too great an expansion, or too great a contraction. In this freedom, however, we have the possibility of creating the great rhythms anew, creating them consciously, out of insight, and thereby achieving a balance which is alive, always moving, changing, never still, never stuck.
In these festivals we are able to do that, to find this new rhythm. We link them to the specific times of the year, because we recognise the in-and-out breathing in cosmos and nature to be true images of the rhythms in our soul and spirit. But the spiritual content of these festivals encompasses the seasons and takes them far beyond ‘mere nature’.
*Carey, D. And Large, J.: Festivals Family and Food
The custom of lighting a fire at Midsummer is a very old one, but it is still followed in many places. It goes back to pre-Christian times and has taken many different forms, but there often seems to have been some idea and experience of purification or the overcoming of
evil linked with it. In the middle ages, it was customary to look at the fire through flowers, as it would keep your eyes healthy, or to dance around the fire with garlands of flowers and herbs, and in the end to jump over the fire, throwing the garlands into the flames, wishing and praying for all illness to be burnt up. Nowadays, each of those gathered round the fire might throw into it a piece of paper on which is written any unkind thoughts they have had
during the past year. This, one might say, would be the nearest of all to a Christian way of celebrating St. John’s message: the need for change and transformation in ourselves.
Yet there is another way of symbolising this awareness: instead of gathering wood outside for the fire, you gather it inside your house! In some places the fire is indeed built up of broken furniture and other thrown-out belongings. This may be less attractive than logs, but it is quite an impressive image for children for whom St. John’s message may seem rather ‘adult’. This image consists of cleaning our house, clearing out and burning up the old, to make space for something new. For adults, St. John’s tide is a time of inner struggle, of striving for virtue. In raising children we are also concerned with developing certain virtues. Among these belong wonder, reverence and gratitude.
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