Isn’t it remarkable that the Easter celebration—and, naturally, also Ascension and Pentecost, which are connected to it—are still determined, their timing, in connection with the cosmos? That is truly something extraordinary for the abstract mind. That it hasn’t already been said long ago: well, let’s do it like Christmas. Easter was, as primordial Easter, on the weekend of April 5. So, let’s just fix it there and do it that way every year. No, cosmic phenomena are taken into account. Namely, Easter falls on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox. And that means that—we are, of course, accustomed to this—we cannot say, Easter is always on the weekend of April 5. Then you might also have to say, we won’t do the weekend, but we’ll fix the dates.

The abstract mind has not yet accomplished that. It remains as it originally is, namely, that the cosmic relationship to the Earth is significant for the phenomenon of the Easter celebration. And now, this year, we have a late Easter. And that brings with it—I have experienced this as very special—that nature is, of course, somewhat further along than when we celebrate Easter at the end of March or the beginning of April. This year, nature can truly be observed in full exuberance. It is, as it were, rejoicing. And it is not yet Easter. And what you see is an overwhelming, lovely beauty of grass fields with daisies and dandelions. The apple trees in full blossom. The cherry trees just finished blooming. The cherry plum often still in full bloom. Truly beautiful. What a loveliness. And when you then, alongside this, take in the daily news,

then you must feel that there is really no greater contrast imaginable. That nature, which, without complaining, delights us every year with her beauty, while we, as humanity, misbehave grossly. And I believe that you must see this as the theme of suffering and resurrection around Easter, that what we, as humans, perform as evil, that that is actually what, on Good Friday—how should one say this—is eternally balanced, although we, as humanity, of course, still have to follow. You see in nature that patience and tolerance that is connected with the life body of the Earth and the cosmos. As a human, you can truly learn something from that, and when you then, alongside this, see us at work as humanity, constantly busy fighting each other with means of which you, as a reasonable person, say, how is it possible?

And that is quite ordinary. We have a very strong animal part in our soul, whereby we must also consider that the animal lives out its instinct in a certain purity; it is simply born with it and lives it out, while the human is also endowed with reason, ingenuity—not the German ‘Vernunft’ I mean, but the cleverness that the human has—with which the human has the ability to develop evil to a height or depth that you can hardly imagine. And when you then see the politicians at work, the world leaders at work, concerning armament and war-mongering and the arousal of certain feelings in humanity, whereby aggression increases. When you observe that and then consider that this, for example, is a stimulus for the arms industry.

What do those people do? The arms industry, what is made there? Does anyone ever think about that? There, tools are made to help your fellow humans to an end in the most terrible way. And that is then called victory. Well, the pacifists have, of course, always been concerned about that, but I see it at the moment somewhat in a different light. And that is in that contrast of that tolerant, faithful nature that appears anew every year, even though we misbehave, on the one hand, and on the other hand, the horrible discord that is truly cultivated among people. And then I must, of course, think of history. And there is an old Indian scripture, which is very well known, the Bhagavad Gita, in which the despair of Arjuna is described, that he must march against his brothers.

And he seeks advice from his wise friend Krishna. And in that advice, that beautiful Eastern wisdom and serenity is actually expressed. But Krishna does not say: turn around and do not go into battle. The wise advice of Krishna takes a very different turn. And when you take that in, then you understand the difference between a war in that time and a war in our time. That is also a difference with which the abstract mind does not know what to do. But when you can read experientially, then you read in that Bhagavad Gita that the battle that must be fought there, must also truly be fought. That that is a divine decision, one could say. While in our time, they are godless wars, even if they are perhaps waged because of religion. They are godless wars because the human in our time is not bound to divine counsel but, from their own impulses, does or refrains from such things. That is a very big difference. And when now again, and because Easter falls so late and nature shows her faithfulness and devotion so strongly, it became so clear to me that the fact that, at the same time, in various places on Earth, terrible war crimes are taking place that indicate how bad humans can also be, because that is so, becomes so clear at this moment, I wanted to bring that forward this time and thereby show that that is actually Easter. That we, as humans, have a choice. We are not compelled to behave so terribly badly that we want to kill our fellow humans. Whatever grounds we may have. The human would be capable of deciding to refrain from that. And for a time, it seemed that it was going in that direction. When you think of the time after the Second World War.

Then, of course, there were also war threats, but they were of a different nature. There was more, after that Second World War, a will to never let it come that far again. Now you see that the lust, I would like to say, for violence is gaining the upper hand again and that this is propagated by respectable gentlemen and ladies on the basis of deception. That is how I see it. That is Good Friday. There, the very lowest motive of the human became visible to sentence a Son of God to death on false grounds and to carry it out. But we also know Easter. That is the victory over that low part in human blood. And perhaps there is occasionally someone in leading functions who also feels that with Easter. And feels an impulse that it is actually over, that people debase themselves so much in war.

In the Netherlands, there is the tradition of the St. Matthew Passion and the St. John Passion. I read in the newspaper that this is still a living tradition, especially in the Netherlands. But I also read that performances of the St. John and the St. Matthew Passion are now taking place in Japan. And I also saw a video of that. And then you see these beautiful Japanese people sing the German songs there. What has always fascinated me tremendously in the St. Matthew Passion – and also in the St. John Passion, because the structure is the same – are the folk scenes, the wild, excited choruses, alternating with the sacred contemplation in the chorales. Perhaps you can still go to a performance of the Matthew or John Passion. And especially experience that contrast. That is the human contrast that sounds there.

We used to go to the performances of Nikolaus Harnoncourt. Because of that pure execution, but also because of that unmatched tenor who always took part there. Kurt Equiluz. Later, we discovered the Good Friday performances in the Concertgebouw. Under the direction of Boudewijn Jansen with the Toonkunstkoor. And I have never before – I have experienced many performances – but I have never before experienced a performance where the conductor has so much courage to make that contrast come alive. The contrast we see between the divine, sacred, patient nature and the human wildness, which should take nature as an example. In that light, I will experience Easter very strongly this year.