Color is the revenge of the gods against Lucifer

"Color is the revenge of the gods against Lucifer," Dr. Steiner said to me on one occasion, during a conversation about my work with regard to the healing force of painting. It was only later that the meaning of these words became comprehensible to me. The Lightbearer, who locks up his light in the glow of passion, in a wealth of shades of feeling, within the individual experiences of the human heart, is purified through the objective experience of color and offered to the world. Thus when, out of cosmic space, the Christ-Spirit enters into the heart, then, brought to rest, the Spirit of Separateness (Lucifer) is freed from his imprisonment in the world and becomes pure Holy Spirit. So color can have a healing and salutary effect. (It is for this reason that oftentimes luciferic people have an antipathy for strong colors.)

Luciferic souls do not generally like strong colors.

I want to repeat so as to make it unmistakably clear: The Doctor had brilliant things to say about Gnosis and the Christ; that is well known. But anyone who has not himself experienced Steiner cannot really form any idea of what took place in our hearts: "He was more heart than head." He was inspiration, not only imagination. His words about the Christ were inspirations -- heart-thoughts that transformed hearts more than the heads.

When the Doctor spoke about the Christ, his head was silent; he spoke out of the sun-filled heart. The words of his lecture cycles on Christ are like an exhalation - not of oxygen, but of carbon dioxide, the symbol of mysterious life processes. . . . 

The doctor stood "close to the door," but not to this door, the wooden door toward which the heads turned. One ran one's head against the wood - and lost consciousness. But there was another door - the heart -- and it was to that door he called us. . . . 

You might think, "Nonsense! What doors is he talking about?"
I speak of those doors through which you shall not enter as long as you have not changed your whole world. One must speak of it differently, without the acrobatics of theoretical knowledge, without Ahriman, without ahrimanizing, without the condescending smile that has become customary meanwhile in our circles. 

That is how Steiner spoke, and so, too, his student Michael Bauer. "Thou art our letter, written in our heart," says the apostle. -- Without the language of the heart -- silence. . . . 

The Doctor and the Christ theme: In the end, everything that he has said leads toward the theme of "Christus." All the gifts he brought to unfolding are, with infinite reverence, offered up to the Christ theme. The multiform unfolding of anthroposophical culture is Steiner's "silence." The Doctor traveling from city to city -- the Doctor who builds bridges from the social question to art, from art to natural science, from there to the tasks of pedagogy -- is the Doctor who is silent concerning the essential. This culture is a brilliant tapestry of outlooks, of vistas that can cause dizziness. One cannot help but ask, "Is all this splendor meant to be a field for man's activity?"

-Andre Belyi