The First Day of the Alchemical Wedding of Christian Rosycross

Read the seven-part original text of the novel about initiation by Johann Valentin Andreae (1616), with comments from the esoteric analysis of Jan van Rijckenborgh and links to articles. The action takes place in seven days – this is the first day and the preface.

The printed edition in English, translated from the Dutch, was published in two volumes by: Rozekruis Pers, Haarlem, The Netherlands

Part one: First edition 1991
Part two: First edition 1991

All rights reserved, especially regarding translation. It is forbidden to reproduce any part of the following texts and images by means of printing, photo copy, electronic media or any other procedure without written permission by the publishing house in advance.


Preface by Jan van Rijckenborgh

Now that an explanation of The Alchemical Wedding of Christian Rosycross has been published, our thoughts are naturally drawn to the author of this book about the classical Rosicrucians, Johann Valentin Andreae. This author bears the signature of a torch-bearer whose light, even now, shines everywhere. And every time a new light has to be proclaimed in the world, in the service of the great work of mankind’s liberation, it will be kindled by and added to the flame of the ancient candelabrum which can never be extinguished.

Mindful of this fact, and now that the time has come, we are filled with profound gratitude that we are allowed to unveil, per­haps for the first time in history, the message of salvation which has taken shape in Johann Valentin Andreae’s ingenious work. We offer this book to all those who yearn for the living knowledge of the tangible path of redemption and who wish to make them­selves worthy of it. May there be many, many such people; a mul­titude that no one can count!

The First Day

On an evening before Easter I was sitting at my table and after I had communed with my Creator, as I was ac­customed to do, in humble prayer and meditation on many great mysteries which the Father of the Light in his majesty had shown me abundantly, I desired to prepare, together with my beloved Paschal Lamb, a pure, unleav­ened wafer in my heart.

Commentary no.1: The evening before Easter
The story begins on an evening before Easter. All such stories must begin like this. Easter is the feast of the resurrection. It is celebrated around the 21st of March, when the sun enters the vernal equinox, so it is possible to see the feast of the resurrection purely as the resurrection of nature. Winter has passed and Spring has come … Never once does C.R.C. speak about the daily dialectical resurrection. His attention is focused on resurrection in the new life-field, on the original life … If that is what one yearns for, then every day in fact becomes “the evening before Easter”, for when one has such a longing, one knows that day will eventually come. (Page 13-14)

All of a sudden such a terrific wind sprang up that I could not think but that the moun­tain in which my little cottage was hewn would be blown asunder by this great violence. Since this did not surprise me as neither did similar tricks of the devil, I took heart and persisted in meditation until someone tapped me on the back, which I was not expecting. I was so terrified that I hardly dared turn round but kept my cheerfulness as far as human weakness permits in such circumstances.

However, as someone repeatedly tugged at my coat I turned around and saw a magnificent female figure whose azure garment was gracefully strewn with golden stars, just like the heavens. In her right hand she held a trumpet of pure gold with a name engraved on it which I could read but as yet was forbidden to reveal. In her left hand she held a thick sheaf of letters written in various languages which she had to deliver in many countries, as I afterwards learned. She also had wings, large and beautiful and strewn with eyes, with which she could rise and fly, faster than an eagle.

I might have observed even more about her, but as she stayed with me such a short time and I was still overcome with fright and wonder, I did not do so. For as soon as I had turned round she looked among her letters and at last took out a small one which she put on the table rever­ently, after which she left without saying a word. But as she rose she blew her beautiful trumpet so powerfully that its echo resounded throughout the mountains and I could hardly hear my own words for nearly a quarter of an hour.

Commentary no.2: The magnetic touch
The conscious touch is like a call. It resounds through you like a trumpet blast. This call is often mentioned in the holy language, where we read how God’s voice is heard amid the storm, in a thunderclap or some other natural force. This always refers to the violence of the magnetic touch, as a result of which the pupil has a feeling of upheaval, because not one single organ in him is ad­apted to the radiations that are vibrating through him. (Page 19)

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