Michaelmas and the Soul-Forces of Man
GA 223
28 September 1923, Vienna
Lecture II
You will have sensed, my dear friends, in what I was able to tell you at the close of yesterday's lecture, concerning the old conception of Michael's conflict with the Dragon, an indication that for our time a revitalization is called for of the elements of a Weltanschauung once contained for mankind in this gigantic picture—and not even so long ago. I repeatedly drew attention to the fact that in many 18th Century souls this conception was still fully alive. But before I can tell you—as I shall in the next lectures—what a genuine, up-to-date spiritual viewpoint can and must do to revivify it, I must present to you—episodically, as it were—a more general anthroposophical train of thought. This will disclose the way in which the conception under discussion can be revitalized and once more become a force in mankind's thinking, feeling, and acting.
If we observe our present relation to nature and to the whole world, and if we compare this with sufficient open-mindedness with that of former times, we find that at bottom man has become a veritable hermit in his attitude toward the cosmic powers, a hermit in so far as he is introduced through his birth into physical existence and has lost the memory of his prenatal life—a memory that at one time was common to all mankind. During that period of our life in which nowadays we merely grow into the use of our forces of mind and memory, and to which we can remember back in this earth life, there occurred in former epochs of human evolution the lighting up of real memory, of an actual retrospect of prenatal experiences man had passed through as a psycho-spiritual being before his earth life.—That is one factor that makes present-day man a world-hermit: he is not conscious of the nature of the connection between his earthly existence and his spiritual existence.
The other factor is this: when now he gazes into the vast cosmos he observes the outer forms of the stars and constellations, but he no longer has any inner spiritual relation to what is spiritual in the cosmos. We can go further: the man of today observes the kingdoms of nature that surround him on earth—the manifold beauty of plants, the gigantic proportions of mountains, the fleeting clouds, and so on. Yet here again he is limited to sense impressions; and often he is even afraid, when he feels a deeper, more intimate contact with the great spaces of nature, lest he might lose his ingenuous attitude toward them. This phase of human evolution was indispensable for the development of what we experience in the consciousness of freedom, the feeling of freedom, in order to arrive at full self-consciousness, at the inner strength that permits the ego to rise to its full height; but necessary as was this hermit life of man in relation to the cosmos, it must be but a transition to another epoch in which the human being may find the way back to spirit, which after all underlies all things and beings. And precisely this finding the way back to spirit must be achieved by means of the strength that can come to him who is able to grasp the Michael idea in its right sense and in its true form, the form it must assume in our time.
Our mentality, the life of our Gemüt, and our life of action all need to be permeated with the Michael impulse. But when we hear it stated that a Michael Festival must be resuscitated among men and that the time is ripe for assigning it its place among the other annual festivals, it is naturally not enough that a few people should say, Well let us start—let us have a Michael Festival! My dear friends, if anthroposophy is to achieve its aim, the superficiality so prevalent today must obviously play no part in any anthroposophical undertakings; but rather, whatever may grow out of anthroposophy must do so with the most profound seriousness. And in order to familiarize ourselves with what this seriousness should be we must consider in what manner the festivals—once vital, today so anaemic—took their place in human evolution. Did the Christmas or Easter Festival come into being because a few people had the idea of instituting a festival at a certain time of the year and said, Let us make the necessary arrangements? Naturally that is not the case. For something like the Christmas Festival to find its way into the life of mankind, Christ Jesus had to be born; this event had to enter the world-historical evolution of the earth; a transcendent event had to occur. And the Easter Festival? It could never have had any meaning in the world had it not commemorated what took place through the Mystery of Golgotha, had not this event intervened incisively for the history of the earth in the evolution of humanity. If nowadays these festivals have faded, if the whole seriousness of the Christmas and Easter Festivals is no longer felt, this fact in itself should lead to a revived intensification of them through a more profound comprehension of the birth of Christ Jesus and the Mystery of Golgotha. Under no conditions, however, must it be imagined that one should add to these festivals simply by establishing a Michael Festival with equal superficiality at the beginning of autumn. Something must be present that can be incisive in human evolution in the same way—though possibly to a lesser degree—as were all events that led to the institution of festivals.
The possibility of celebrating a Michael Festival in all seriousness must inevitably be brought about, and it is the anthroposophical movement out of which an understanding for such a Michael Festival must be able to arise. But just as the Christmas and Easter Festivals were led up to by outer events, in evolutionary objectivity, so a radical transformation must take place in the inner being of mankind before such a step is taken. Anthroposophy must become a profound experience, an experience men can think of in a way similar to that which they feel when imbued with the whole power dwelling in the birth of Christ Jesus, in the Mystery of Golgotha. As was said, this may be so to a lesser degree in the case of the Michael Festival; but something of this soul-transmuting force must proceed from the anthroposophical movement. That is indeed what we long for: that anthroposophy might be imbued with this power to transmute souls: and this can only come about if the substance of its teaching—if I may call it that—becomes actual experience.
Let us now turn our attention to such experiences as can enter our inner being through anthroposophy. In our soul life we distinguish, as you know, thinking, feeling, and willing from one another; and especially in connection with feeling we speak of the human Gemüt. Our thinking appears to us cold, dry, colorless—as though spirituality emaciating us—when our thoughts take an abstract form, when we are unable to imbue them with the warmth and enthusiasm of feeling. We can call a man gemütvoll only when something of the inner warmth of his Gemüt streams forth to us when he utters his thoughts. And we can really make close contact with a man only if his behavior toward ourself and the world is not merely correct and in line with duty, but if his actions manifest enthusiasm, a warm heart, a love of nature, love for every being. This human Gemüt, then, dwells in the very center of the soul life, as it were.
But while thinking and willing have assumed a certain character by reason of man's having become cosmically a hermit, this is even more true of the human Gemüt. Thinking may contemplate the perfection of its cosmic calculations and perhaps gloat over their subtlety, but it simply fails to sense how basically remote it is from the warm heartbeat of life. And in correct actions, carried out by a mere sense of duty, many a man may find satisfaction, without really feeling that a life of such matter-of-fact behavior is but half a life. Neither the one nor the other touches the human soul very closely. But what lies between thinking and willing, all that is comprised in the human Gemüt, is indeed intimately linked with the whole being of man. And while it may sometimes seem—in view of the peculiar tendencies of many people at the present time—as though the factors that should warm and elevate the Gemüt and fill it with enthusiasm might become chilled as well, this is a delusion. For it can be said that a man's inner, conscious experiences might at a pinch occur lacking the element of Gemüt; but through such a lack his being will inevitably suffer in some way. And if such a man's soul can endure this—if perhaps through soullessness he forces himself to Gemütlessness—the process will gnaw at his whole being in some other form: it will eat right down into his physical organization, affecting his health. Much of what appears in our time as symptoms of decline is basically connected with the lack of Gemüt into which many people have settled.—The full import of these rather general statements will become clear when we delve deeper into them.
One who simply grows up into our modern civilization observes the things of the outer world: he perceives them, forms abstract thoughts about them, possibly derives real pleasure from a lovely blossom or a majestic plant; and if he is at all imaginative he may even achieve an inner picture of these. Yet he remains completely unaware of his deeper relation to that world of which the plant, for example, is a part. To talk incessantly about spirit, spirit, and again spirit is utterly inadequate for spiritual perception. Instead, what is needed is that we should become conscious of our true spiritual relations to the things around us. When we observe a plant in the usual way we do not in the least sense the presence of an elemental being dwelling in it, of something spiritual; we do not dream that every such plant harbors something which is not satisfied by having us look at it and form such abstract mental pictures as we commonly do of plants today. For in every plant there is concealed—under a spell, as it were—an elemental spiritual being; and really only he observes a plant in the right way who realizes that this loveliness is a sheath of a spiritual being enchanted in it—a relatively insignificant being, to be sure, in the great scale of cosmic interrelationship, but still a being intimately related to man.
The human being is really so closely linked to the world that he cannot take a step in the realm of nature without coming under the intense influence exercised upon him by his intimate relations to the world. And when we see the lily in the field, growing from the seed to the blossom, we must vividly imagine—though not personified—that this lily is awaiting something. (Again I must use men's words as I did before to express another picture: they cannot quite cover the meaning, but they do express the realities inherent in things.) While unfolding its leaves, but especially its blossom, this lily is really expecting something. It says to itself: Men will pass and look at me; and when a sufficient number of human eyes will have directed their gaze upon me—so speaks the spirit of the lily—I shall be disenchanted of my spell, and I shall be able to start on my way into spiritual worlds.—You will perhaps object that many lilies grow unseen by human eye: yes, but then the conditions are different, and such lilies find their release in a different way. For the decree that the spell of that particular lily shall be broken by human eyes comes about by the first human glance cast upon the lily. It is a relationship entered into between man and the lily when he first lets his gaze rest upon it.—All about us are these elemental spirits begging us, in effect, Do not look at the flowers so abstractly, nor form such abstract mental pictures of them: let rather your heart and your Gemüt enter into what lives, as soul and spirit, in the flowers, for it is imploring you to break the spell.—Human existence should really be a perpetual releasing of the elemental spirits lying enchanted in minerals, plants, and animals.
An idea such as this can readily be sensed in its abundant beauty; but precisely by grasping it in its right spiritual significance we can also feel it in the light of the full responsibility we thereby incur toward the whole cosmos. In the present epoch of civilization—that of the development of freedom—man's attitude toward the flowers is a mere sipping at what he should really be drinking. He sips by forming concepts and ideas, whereas he should drink by uniting, through his Gemüt, with the elemental spirits of the things and beings that surround him.
I said, we need not consider the lilies that are never seen by man but must think of those that are so seen, because they need the relationship of the Gemüt which the human being can enter into with them. Now, it is from the lily that an effect proceeds; and manifold, mighty and magnificent are indeed the spiritual effects, that continually approach man out of the things of nature when he walks in it. One who can see into these things constantly perceives the variety and grandeur of all that streams out to him from all sides through the elemental spirituality of nature. And it flows into him: it is something that constantly streams toward him as super-sensible spirituality poured out over outer nature, which is a mirror of the divine-spiritual.
In the next days, we shall have occasion to speak of these matters more in detail, in the true anthroposophical sense. At the moment we will go on to say that in the human being there dwells the force I have described as the force of the Dragon whom Michael encounters, against whom he does battle. I indicated that this Dragon has an animal-like form, yet is really a super-sensible being; that on account of his insubordination as a super-sensible being he was expelled into the sense world, where he now has his being; and I indicated further that he exists only in man, because outer nature cannot harbor him. Outer nature, image of divine spirituality, has in its innocence nothing whatever to do with the Dragon: he is established in the being of men, as I have set forth. But by reason of being such a creature—a super-sensible being in the sense of world—he instantly attracts the super-sensible elemental forces that stream toward man out of nature and unites with them, with the result that man, instead of releasing the plant elementals from their spell through his soul and Gemüt, unites them with the Dragon, allows them to perish with the Dragon in his lower nature. For everything in the world moves in an evolutionary stream, taking many different directions to this end; and the elemental beings dwelling in minerals, plants, and animals must rise to a higher existence than is offered by their present abodes. This they can only accomplish by passing through man. The establishment of an external civilization is surely not man's sole purpose on earth: he has a cosmic aim within the entire world evolution; and this cosmic aim is linked with such matters as I have just described—with the further development of those elemental beings that in earthly existence are at a low stage, but destined for a higher one. When man enters into a certain relationship with them, and when everything runs as it should, they can attain to this higher stage of evolution.
In the old days of instinctive human evolution, when in the Gemüt the forces of soul and spirit shone forth and when these were as much a matter of course to him as were the forces of nature, world evolution actually progressed in such a way that the stream of existence passed through man in a normal, orderly way, as it were. But precisely during the epoch that must now terminate, that must advance to a higher form of spirituality, untold elemental substance within man has been delivered over to the Dragon; for it is his very nature to hunger and thirst for these elemental beings: to creep about, frightening plants and minerals in order to gorge himself with the elemental beings of nature. For with them he wants to unite, and with them to permeate his own being. In extrahuman nature he cannot do this, but only in the inner nature of man, for only there is existence possible for him. And if this were to continue, the earth would be doomed, for the Dragon would inevitably be victorious in earthly existence.
He would be victorious for a very definite reason: by virtue of his saturating himself, as it were, with elemental beings in human nature, something happens physically, psychically, and spiritually. Spiritually: no human being would ever arrive at the silly belief in a purely material outer world, as assumed by nature research today; he would never come to accept dead atoms and the like; he would never assume the existence of such reactionary laws as that of the conservation of force and energy, or of the permanence of matter, were not the Dragon in him to absorb the elemental beings from without. When these come to be in man, in the body of the Dragon, human observation is distracted from what things contain of spirit; man no longer sees spirit in things, which in the meantime has entered into him; he sees nothing but dead matter.—Psychically: everything a man has ever expressed in the way of what I must call cowardice of soul results from the Dragon's having absorbed the elemental powers within him. Oh, how widespread is this cowardice of the soul! We know quite well that we should do this or that, that such and such is the right thing to do in a given situation; but we cannot bring our self to do it—a certain dead weight acts in our soul: the elemental beings in the Dragon's body are at work in us.—And physically: man would never be tormented by what are called disease germs had his body not been prepared—through the spiritual effects I have just described—as a soil for the germs. These things penetrate even into the physical organization; and we can say that if we perceive man rightly in his spirit, soul, and body as he is constituted today, we find him cut off from the spirit realm in three directions—for a good purpose, to be sure; the attainment of freedom. He no longer has in him the spiritual powers he might have; and thus you see that through this threefold debilitation of his life, through what the glutted Dragon has become in him, he is prevented from experiencing the potency of the spirit within himself.
There are two ways of experiencing anthroposophy—many variations lie between, but I am mentioning only the two extremes—and one of them is this: a man sits down in a chair, takes a book, reads it, and finds it quite interesting as well as comforting to learn that there is such a thing as spirit, as immortality. It just suits him to know that with regard to the soul as well, man is not dead when his body dies. He derives greater satisfaction from such a cosmogony than from a materialistic one. He takes it up as one might take up abstract reflections on geography, except that anthroposophy provides more of comfort. Yes, that is one way. The man gets up from his chair really no different from what he was when he sat down, except for having derived a certain satisfaction from what he read—or heard, if it was a lecture instead of a book.
But there is another way of receiving what anthroposophy has to give. It is to absorb something like the idea of Michael's Conflict with the Dragon in such a way as really to become inwardly transformed, to feel it as an important, incisive experience, and to rise from your chair fundamentally quite a different being after reading something of that sort.—And as has been said, there are all sorts of shades between these two.
The first type of reader cannot be counted upon at all when it is a question of reviving the Michaelmas Festival: only those can be depended upon whose determination it is, at least within their capacities, to take anthroposophy into themselves as something living. And that is exactly what should be experienced within the anthroposophical movement: the need to experience as life-forces those ideas that first present themselves to us merely as such, as ideas.—Now I will say something wholly paradoxical: sometimes it is much easier to understand the opponents of anthroposophy than its adherents. The opponents say, Oh, these anthroposophical ideas are fantastic—they conform with no reality; and they reject them, remain untouched by them. One can readily understand such an attitude and find a variety of reasons for it. As a rule it is caused by fear of these ideas—a real attitude, though unconscious. But frequently it happens that a man accepts the ideas; yet, though they diverge so radically from everything else in the world that can be accepted, they produce less feeling in him than would an electrifying apparatus applied to his knuckle. In the latter case he at least feels in his body a twitching produced by the spark; and the absence of a similar spark in the soul is what so often causes great anguish—this links up with the demand of our time that men be laid hold of and impressed by the spirit, not merely by what is physical. Men avoid being knocked and jerked about, but they do not avoid coming in contact with ideas dealing with other worlds, ideas presenting themselves as something very special in the present-day sense-world, and then maintaining the same indifference toward them as toward ideas of the senses.
This ability to rise to the point at which thoughts about spirit can grip us as powerfully as can anything in the physical world, this is Michael power. It is confidence in the ideas of spirit—given the capacity for receiving them at all—leading to the conviction: I have received a spiritual impulse, I give myself up to it, I become the instrument for its execution. First failure—never mind! Second failure—never mind! A hundred failures are of no consequence, for no failure is ever a decisive factor in judging the truth of a spiritual impulse whose effect has been inwardly understood and grasped. We have full confidence in a spiritual impulse, grasped at a certain point of time, only when we can say to our self, My hundred failures can at most prove that the conditions for realizing the impulse are not given me in this incarnation; but that this impulse is right I can know from its own nature. And if I must wait a hundred incarnations for the power to realize this impulse, nothing but its own nature can convince me of the efficacy or impotence of any spiritual impulse.
If you will imagine this thought developed in the human Gemüt as great confidence in spirit, if you will consider that man can cling firm as a rock to something he has seen to be spiritually victorious, something he refuses to relinquish in spite of all outer opposition, then you will have a conception of what the Michael power, the Michael being, really demands of us; for only then will you comprehend the nature of the great confidence in spirit. We may leave in abeyance some spiritual impulse or other, even for a whole incarnation; but once we have grasped it we must never waver in cherishing it within us, for only thus can we save it up for subsequent incarnations. And when confidence in spirit will in this way have established a frame of mind to which this spiritual substance appears as real as the ground under our feet—the ground without which we could not stand—then we shall have in our Gemüt a feeling of what Michael really expects of us.
Undoubtedly you will admit that in the course of the last centuries—even the last thousand years of human history—the vastly greater part of this active confidence in spirit has been disappearing, that life does not exact from the majority of men the development of such confidence. Yet that is what had to come, because what I am really expressing when I say this is that in the last instance man has burned the bridges that formerly had communication with the Michael power.
But in the meantime much has happened in the world. Man has in a sense apostatized from the Michael power. The stark, intense materialism of the 19th Century is in effect an apostasy from the Michael power. But objectively, in the domain of outer spirit, the Michael power has been victorious, precisely in the last third of the 19th Century. What the Dragon had hoped to achieve through human evolution will not come to pass, yet on the other hand we envision today the other great fact that out of free resolution man will have to take part in Michael's victory over the Dragon. And this involves finding the way to abandon the prevalent passivity in relation to spirit and to enter into an active one. The Michael forces cannot be acquired through any form of passivity, not even through passive prayer, but only through man's making himself the instrument of divine-spiritual forces by means of his loving will. For the Michael forces do not want to be implored: they want men to unite with them. This men can do if they will receive the lessons of the spiritual world with inner energy.
This will indicate what must appear in man if the Michael conception is to come alive again. He must really be able to experience spirit, and he must be able to gather this experience wholly out of thought—not in the first instance by means of some sort of clairvoyance. We would be in a bad way if everybody had to become clairvoyant in order to have this confidence in spirit. Everyone who is at all receptive to the teachings of spiritual science can have this confidence. If a man will saturate himself more and more with confidence in spirit, something will come over him like an inspiration; and this is something that really all the good spirits of the world are awaiting. He will experience the spring, sensing the beauty and loveliness of the plant world and finding deep delight in the sprouting, burgeoning life; but at the same time he will develop a feeling for the spell-bound elemental spirituality in all this budding life. He will acquire a feeling, a Gemüt content, telling him that every blossom bears testimony to the existence of an enchanted elemental being within it; and he will learn to feel the longing in this elemental being to be released by him, instead of being delivered up to the Dragon to whom it is related through its own invisibility. And when the flowers wither in the autumn he will know that he has succeeded in contributing a bit to the progress of spirit in the world, in enabling an elemental being to slip out of its plant when the blossoms wither and fall and become seed. But only as he permeated himself with the powerful strength of Michael will he be able to lead this elemental being up into the spirit for which it yearns.
And men will experience the cycle of the seasons. They will experience spring as the birth of elemental beings longing for the spirit, and autumn as their liberation from the dying plants and withering blossoms. They will no longer stand alone as cosmic hermits who have merely grown half a year older by fall than they were in the spring: together with evolving nature they will have pressed onward by one of life's milestones. They will not merely have inhaled the physical oxygen so and so many times, but will have participated in the evolution of nature, in the enchanting and disenchanting of spiritual beings in nature. Men will no longer only feel themselves growing older; they will sense the transformation of nature as part of their own destiny: they will coalesce with all that grows there, will expand in their being because their free individuality can pour itself out in sacrifice into the cosmos.—That is what man will be able to contribute to a favorable outcome of Michael's Conflict with the Dragon.
Thus, we see that what can lead to a Michaelmas Festival must be an event of the human Gemüt, a Gemüt event that can once more experience the cycle of the seasons as a living reality, in the manner described. But do not imagine that you are experiencing it by merely setting up this abstract concept in your mind! You will achieve this only after you have actually absorbed anthroposophy in such a way that it makes you regard every plant, every stone, in a new way; and also only after anthroposophy has taught you to contemplate all human life in a new way.
I have tried to give you a sort of picture of what must be prepared specifically in the human Gemüt, if the latter is to learn to feel surrounding nature as its very own being. The most that men have retained of this sort of thing is the ability to experience in their blood circulation a certain psychic element in addition to the material factor: unless they are rank materialists they have preserved that much. But to experience the pulse-beat of outer existence as we do our own innermost being, to take part once more in the cycle of the seasons as we experience the life inside our own skin—that is the preparation needed for the Michael Festival.
Inasmuch as these lectures are intended to present for your contemplation the relation between anthroposophy and the human Gemüt, it is my wish that they may really be grasped not merely by the head but especially by the Gemüt; for at bottom, all anthroposophy is largely futile in the world and among men if it is not absorbed by the Gemüt, if it carries no warmth into this human Gemüt. Recent centuries have heaped cleverness in abundance upon men: in the matter of thinking, men have come to the point where they no longer even know how clever they are. That is a fact. True, many people believe present-day men to be stupid; but granting that there are stupid people in the world, this is really only because their cleverness has reached such proportions that they debility of their Gemüt prevents them from knowing what to do with all their cleverness. Whenever someone is called stupid, I always maintain that it is merely a case of his not knowing what use to make of his cleverness. I have listened to many discussions in which some speaker or other was ridiculed because he was considered stupid, but occasionally just one of these would seem to me the cleverest.
Cleverness, then, has been furnished us in abundance by the last few centuries; but what we need today is warmth of Gemüt, and this anthroposophy can provide. When someone studying anthroposophy says it leaves him cold, he reminds me of one who keeps piling wood in the stove and then complains that the room doesn't get warm. Yet all he needs to do is to kindle the wood, then it will get warm. Anthroposophy can be presented, and it is the good wood of the soul; but it can be enkindled only by each within himself. What everyone must find in his Gemüt is the match wherewith to light anthroposophy. Anthroposophy is in truth warm and ardent: it is the very soul of the Gemüt; and he who finds this anthroposophy cold and intellectual and matter-of-fact just lacks the means of kindling it so it may pervade him with its fire. And just as only a little match is needed to light ordinary wood, so anthroposophy, too, needs only a little match. But this will enkindle the force of Michael in man.
Zweiter Vortrag
Das, was ich gestern zum Schlusse der Betrachtung über die alte Vorstellung vom Streite Michaels mit dem Drachen sagen konnte, war Ihnen wohl schon ein Hinweis darauf, wie eine Art Wiederbelebung desjenigen für unsere Zeit notwendig ist, was an Weltanschauungselementen in diesem gigantischen Bilde einmal für die Menschheit gelegen hat für eine, wie wir gesehen haben, gar nicht so weit zurückliegende Menschheit. Denn ich konnte an den verschiedensten Stellen des gestrigen Vortrages darauf hinweisen, daß in zahlreichen Seelen des 18. Jahrhunderts noch diese Vorstellung voll lebendig war. Bevor ich aber in den nächsten Vorträgen von dem werde zu sprechen haben, was aus dem Geiste unserer Zeit heraus, aus einer wirklichen Geistesanschauung unserer Zeit zu einer Wiederbelebung dieser Vorstellung führen kann und führen muß, ist es notwendig, daß ich heutegewissermaßen als episodische Einschiebung - eine allgemeinere anthroposophische Betrachtung vor Ihnen anstelle. Aus dieser wird sich dann ergeben, in welcher Weise die angedeutete Vorstellung wieder belebt werden kann, so daß sie eine wahre Kraft im Denken, Fühlen und Handeln der Menschheit wiederum werden kann.
Wenn wir das Verhältnis des Menschen zur Natur und zur ganzen Welt ins Auge fassen, das der Mensch heute hat, so werden wir sagen können, wenn wir nur unbefangen genug dieses heutige Verhältnis mit dem Verhältnis der früheren Zeiten vergleichen können: Der Mensch ist eigentlich im Grunde genommen heute ein wahrer Einsiedler gegenüber den kosmischen Mächten geworden, ein Einsiedler insofern, als er durch seine Geburt in das physische Dasein hereingeführt wird und nicht mehr jene Erinnerungen an das vorirdische Dasein hat, die wirklich einmal die ganze Menschheit hatte. In der Zeit, in welcher der Mensch sonst nur zum Gebrauche seiner Verstandes- und Gedächtniskräfte erwächst, bis zu welcher man sich im Erdenleben zurückerinnert, hatte einmal in der ganzen Menschheit der Mensch in den älteren Epochen der Menschheitsentwickelung zugleich das Aufleuchten einer wirklichen Erinnerung, eines wirklichen Zurückschauens an vorirdische Erlebnisse, an Erlebnisse, die er als geistig-seelisches Wesen vor seinem Erdenleben durchgemacht hat. Das ist das eine, was den Menschen gewissermaßen zum Welteneinsiedler heute macht, daß er sich nicht bewußt ist, wie sein irdisches Dasein an ein Geistdasein angeschlossen ist. Das andere ist dieses, daß der Mensch heute seinen Blick hinausrichtet in die Weiten desKosmos, daß er die äußeren Gestalten der Sterne und Sternbilder schaut, daß er aber ein inneres geistiges Verhältnis zu dem Geistigen im Kosmos nicht mehr hat. Ja, man kann auch weiter gehen. Der Mensch richtet heute seinen Blick auf die Reiche der Natur, die ihn auf der Erde umgeben, auf die mannigfaltige Schönheit der Pflanzen, auf das Gigantische der Berge, auf die ziehenden Wolken und so weiter; allein auch da muß er sich auf dasjenige beschränken, was Eindruck macht auf seine Sinne, er fürchtet sich sogar sehr häufig, wenn er eine intimere, tiefere Beziehung zu den Weiten der Natur bekommt, daß ihm die naive Anschauung der Natur verlorengehen könne. Aber so notwendig diese Entwickelungsphase der Menschheit dazu war, daß der Mensch dasjenige entwickele, was wir im Bewußtsein der Freiheit, im Freiheitsgefühl erleben, so notwendig das für den Menschen war, um zu seinem vollen Selbstbewußtsein zu kommen, zu jener inneren Stärke, die das Ich mit voller Kraft im Menschen sich aufrichten läßt, so notwendig, wie gesagt, dieses Einsiedlerleben des Menschen im Kosmos war: es darf nur ein Übergang sein zu einer andern Epoche, in welcher der Mensch wiederum den Weg zurückfindet zu dem Geistigen, das allen Dingen und Wesenheiten denn doch zugrunde liegt. Und gerade dieses Zurückfinden zum Geistigen muß durch diejenige Kraft erreicht werden, die dem Menschen werden kann, wenn er die Michael-Idee in ihrer wahren Gestalt und in derjenigen Gestalt, die sie für unsere Zeit annehmen muß, im rechten Sinne ergreifen kann.
Wir brauchen für das Denkerische, wir brauchen für das Gemütsleben, wir brauchen auch für das Tatenleben das Durchdrungensein mit dem Michael-Impuls. Aber es genügt natürlich nicht, wenn nun so etwas gehört wird wie: Ein Michael-Fest müsse wiederum lebendig werden in der Menschheit, und es sei nun an der Zeit, dieses MichaelFest hinzuzufügen zu den andern Festen des Jahres. - Es genügt nicht, daß dann einige sagen: Also fangen wir einmal an, begehen wir einmal ein Michael-Fest! - Wenn dasjenige in der Welt erreicht werden soll, was mit Anthroposophie anzustreben ist, dann darf selbstverständlich nicht die sonst heute in der Welt übliche Oberflächlichkeit gerade bei den Einrichtungen des Anthroposophischen eine Rolle spielen, sondern dann muß, wenn aus dem Anthroposophischen irgend etwas herauswächst, dieses mit dem allerintensivsten Ernste herauswachsen. Und um uns ein wenig einzuleben in das, was dieser Ernst sein soll, möchte ich Sie doch bitten, einmal zu erwägen, wie denn die heute verblaßten, einmal lebendigen Feste sich in die Menschheitsentwickelung hineingestellt haben.
Ist denn etwa das Weihnachtsfest, ist das Osterfest hervorgegangen aus dem Entschlusse von einigen wenigen, die gesagt haben: Wir haben eine Idee, in einer bestimmten Zeit des Jahres ein Fest zu feiern, und wir machen die nötigen Veranstaltungen dazu? — Das ist natürlich nicht der Fall. Damit so etwas wie das Weihnachtsfest in der Menschheit Eingang finden konnte, war ja nötig, daß der Christus Jesus geboren wurde, daß diese Tatsache in der weltgeschichtlichen Entwickelung der Erde eingetreten ist, daß ein überragendes Ereignis dastand. Und das Osterfest? Es hätte keinen Sinn jemals in der Welt gehabt, wenn es nicht das Erinnerungsfest an dasjenige gewesen wäre, was durch das Mysterium von Golgatha geschehen ist, wenn nicht dieses Ereignis in die ganze Menschheitsentwickelung einschneidend für die Erdengeschichte eingegriffen hätte. Wenn heute diese Feste verblaßt sind, wenn am Weihnachtsfeste nicht mehr der ganze Ernst gefühlt wird, ebensowenig am Osterfeste, so sollte das vielleicht gerade dazu führen, durch ein intensiveres Verständnis der Geburt des Christus Jesus und des Mysteriums von Golgatha auch diese Feste wiederum zu vertiefen. Keinesfalls dürfte aber die Idee Platz greifen, daß man, um nun zu diesen Festen auch noch mit derselben Oberflächlichkeit ein weiteres hinzuzufügen, nun zum Herbst beginnt, das Michael-Fest einfach einzurichten.
Es muß irgend etwas da sein, das - wenn vielleicht auch in getingerem Maße - in derselben Weise einschneidend sein kann in der Entwickelung der Menschheit, wie alle die Ereignisse einschneidend waren, die zu Festen geführt haben. Es muß ganz gewiß dazu kommen, daß in allem Ernste ein Michael-Fest gefeiert werden kann, und es muß für dieses Michael-Fest aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung heraus ein Verständnis erwachsen können. Aber so wie äußere Ereignisse, Ereignisse im Objektiven des Werdens, zum Weihnachtsfest, zum Osterfest geführt haben, so muß etwas im Inneren der Menschheit - derjenigen Menschheit, die den Entschluß faßt, so etwas zu tun — ganz anders werden, als es vorher gewesen ist. Es muß Anthroposophie zu einem gründlichen Erlebnis werden, einem Erlebnis, von dem der Mensch wirklich in einer ähnlichen Weise so zu sprechen vermag, wie er zu sprechen vermag, wenn ihm die ganze Kraft, die in der Geburt des Christus Jesus liegt, die im Mysterium von Golgatha ist, aufgeht. Wie gesagt, im geringeren Maße mag das der Fall sein beim Michael-Fest, aber es muß so etwas von seelenumgestaltender Kraft aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung hervorgehen. Das möchte man, daß Anthroposophie diese Kraft bekäme, Seelen umzugestalten. Und das wird sie nur können, wenn dasjenige, was in ihren, wenn ich so sagen darf, Lehren liegt, tatsächlich Erlebnis wird.
Nun wollen wir gerade heute einiges von jenen Erlebnissen vor unsere Seele hinstellen, die durch Anthroposophie in das Innere des Menschen einziehen können. Wir unterscheiden ja im menschlichen Seelenleben Denken, Fühlen und Wollen, und wir sprechen, indem wir namentlich auf das Fühlen hinschauen, von dem menschlichen Gemüt. Wir finden unser Denken kalt, trocken, nüchtern, wir finden es uns gewissermaßen geistig auszehrend, wenn die Gedanken in abstrakter Form in unserer Seele leben, wenn wir nicht in der Lage sind, heraufzusenden in diese Gedanken die Wärme, den Enthusiasmus des Fühlens. Wir können einen Menschen nur dann gemütvoll nennen, wenn uns in seinen Gedanken, indem er sie zu uns äußert, etwas entgegenströmt von der inneren Wärme seines Gemütes. Und wir können eigentlich an einen Menschen erst dann heran, wenn er uns gegenüber nicht nur pflichtgemäß, korrekt handelt, wenn er auch der Welt gegenüber nicht bloß pflichtgemäß, korrekt handelt, sondern wenn in seinen Handlungen etwas liegt, das uns sehen läßt, es fließt in sie aus der Enthusiasmus seines Herzens, die Wärme, die Liebe für die Natur, für jedes Wesen. So sitzt gewissermaßen in der Mitte des Seelenlebens dieses menschliche Gemüt.
Aber wenn auch das Denken, wenn auch das Wollen einen bestimmten Charakter angenommen haben durch jene Tatsache, daß der Mensch ein kosmischer Einsiedler geworden ist, am meisten hat eigentlich das menschliche Gemüt einen bestimmten Charakter unter dieser kosmischen Einsiedelei bekommen. Das Denken mag seine vollkommenen Berechnungen über das Weltenall vor sich hinstellen, es ergötzt sich vielleicht an der Spitzfindigkeit dessen, was da errechnet wird, aber es empfindet eben nicht, wie fern es im Grunde genommen dem warmen Pulsschlag des Lebens steht. Und in dem korrekten, rein pflichtgemäßen Handeln kann sich mancher Mensch vielleicht befriedigen, ohne daß er so recht fühlt, wie das Leben in diesem nüchternen Handeln nur ein halbes Leben ist. Beides geht nicht ganz nahe an die menschliche Seele heran. Dasjenige aber, was zwischen Denken und Wollen liegt, alles das, was das menschliche Gemüt umfaßt, geht schon sehr, sehr nahe an das ganze menschliche Wesen heran. Und wenn wir manchmal glauben, daß auch das, was das Gemüt eigentlich erwärmen, erheben, enthusiasmieren soll, bei der eigentümlichen Anlage manches Menschen in der Gegenwart erkalten könne, so ist das eine Täuschung. Es ist doch schließlich so: Für das, was der Mensch innerlich erlebt, bewußt erlebt, läßt sich sagen wir das Paradoxe — zur Not gemütlos sein, aber es läßt sich nicht gemütlos sein, ohne daß irgendwie doch durch die Gemütlosigkeit das menschliche Wesen ergriffen werde. Und wenn der Mensch es seelisch ertragen kann, vielleicht durch Seelenlosigkeit sich zur Gemütlosigkeit zwingt, so wird das in irgendeiner andern Form an seinem ganzen Wesen fressen, wird bis in die physische Organisation, bis in Gesundheit und Krankheit hinein fressen. Vieles, was in unserer Zeit an Niedergangserscheinungen auftritt, hängt im Grunde genommen gerade mit der Gemütlosigkeit zusammen, in die viele Menschen sich hineingefunden haben. Aber was alles mit diesen mehr im allgemeinen hingestellten Sätzen gemeint ist, wird uns erst entgegentreten, wenn wir die gestern begonnenen Betrachtungen ein wenig vertiefen.
Der Mensch, der einfach in die gegenwärtige Zivilisation hineinwächst, sieht die Dinge der Außenwelt an, nimmt sie wahr, macht sich darüber seine abstrakten Gedanken, hat vielleicht an der lieblichen Blüte, an der majestätischen Pflanze auch seine herzliche Freude, seine herzliche Befriedigung, gewinnt sogar vielleicht, wenn er Phantasie hat, ein gewisses inneres Bild von der lieblichen Blüte, von der majestätischen Pflanze. Allein er ahnt nicht, welches seine tiefere Beziehung ist — sagen wir zunächst, um das eine herauszugreifen — zu der Welt der Pflanzen. Es genügt wahrhaftig für eine geistige Anschauung nicht, daß wir von Geist und Geist und wieder Geist reden, sondern es ist da nötig, daß wir uns der wahrhaftig geistigen Beziehungen bewußt werden, die wir zu den Dingen um uns herum haben.
Wenn wir eine Pflanze betrachten, wie man es gewohnt ist, sie heute zu betrachten, so ahnt man gar nicht, daß in dieser Pflanze eine elementarische Wesenheit steckt, ein Geistiges steckt, daß in jeder solchen Pflanze etwas drinnen ist, dem es nicht genügt, daß wir sie anschauen und uns die abstrakte Bildvorstellung machen, die wir uns heute gemeiniglich auch von Pflanzen machen. Denn in jeder solchen Pflanze steckt elementarisches geistiges Wesen, aber es steckt so darinnen, daß es gewissermaßen in der Pflanze verzaubert ist. Und im Grunde genommen schaut nur derjenige eine Pflanze richtig an, der sich sagt: Dies ist in aller Schönheit die Umhüllung eines geistigen Wesens, das drinnen verzaubert ist. - Gewiß, im großen kosmischen Zusammenhange ein relativ unbedeutendes Wesen, aber ein Wesen, das eine tiefe Beziehung zum Menschen hat.
Der Mensch ist eigentlich so innig verknüpft mit der Welt, daß er keinen Gang in die Natur machen kann, ohne daß die intimen Beziehungen, in denen er zur Welt steht, eine intensive Bedeutung für ihn haben. Wenn die Lilie auf dem Felde erwächst aus dem Keim, bis zur Blüte kommt, dann müssen wir uns schon - ohne Personifikation — ganz intensiv vorstellen, daß diese Lilie auf etwas wartet. Ich muß es mit Menschenworten wiederum aussprechen, wie ich das gestrige Bild auch mit Menschenworten aussprechen mußte. Die Menschenworte treffen natürlich die Dinge nicht ganz, aber sie drükken doch das aus, was als Realität in den Dingen drinnen ist. Diese Lilie, indem sie ihre Blätter, aber namentlich ihre Blüte entfaltet, wartet eigentlich auf etwas. Sie sagt sich: Es werden Menschen an mir vorübergehen, Menschen, die mich anschauen, und wenn genügend Menschenaugen ihren Blick auf mich geheftet haben werden, dann werde ich - so sagt der Geist der Lilie - aus der Verzauberung entzaubert sein und werde meinen Weg in geistige Welten antreten können! -— Gewiß, Sie werden sagen: Es wachsen viele Lilien, auf die nicht menschliche Augen blicken. - Bei denen ist das eben anders. Lilien, auf die nicht menschliche Augen blicken, finden ihre Entzauberung auf einem andern Wege. Denn das erste menschliche Auge, das auf eine Lilie blickt, ruft die Bestimmung hervor, daß diese Lilie durch Menschenaugen entzaubert werde. Es ist ein Verhältnis, das die Lilie zum Menschen eingeht, indem der Mensch zuerst seinen Blick auf die Lilie wirft. Überall in unserer Umgebung sind diese elementarischen Geister, und sie rufen uns eigentlich zu: Schauet doch nicht so abstrakt die Blumen an und macht euch nicht bloß die abstrakten Bilder davon, sondern habt ein Herz, ein Gemüt für das, was geistig-seelisch in den Blumen wohnt. Das will durch euch aus seiner Verzauberung erlöst werden. — Und das menschliche Dasein sollte eigentlich eine fortdauernde Erlösung sein verzauberter Elementargeister in den Mineralien, Pflanzen und Tieren.
Eine solche Idee kann in ihrer vollen Schönheit empfunden werden. Aber gerade indem sie im richtigen geistigen Sinne erfaßt wird, kann sie auch im Lichte der vollen Verantwortlichkeit empfunden werden, in die sich der Mensch dadurch zum ganzen Kosmos hineinstellt. Und die Art und Weise, wie sich der Mensch in der Gegenwart, in der Zivilisationsepoche der Entwickelung der Freiheit zu den Blumen verhält, ist eigentlich ein Nippen an demjenigen, an dem er eigentlich trinken sollte. Er nippt, indem er sich Begriffe und Ideen bildet, und er sollte trinken, indem er mit seinem Gemüt sich mit den Blementargeistern der Dinge und Wesenheiten um ihn herum verbindet.
Ich sagte: Wir brauchen nicht zu denken an diejenigen Lilien, auf die niemals ein menschlicher Blick fällt, aber wir müssen an diejenigen denken, auf die der menschliche Blick fällt, denn die bedürfen des Gemütsverhältnisses, das der Mensch zu ihnen eingehen kann. Nun aber, von der Lilie geht die Wirkung aus. Und mannigfaltig, großartig und gewaltig sind die geistigen Wirkungen, die fortwährend von den Dingen der Natur an den Menschen herantreten, indem der Mensch seinen Weg durch die Natur nimmt. Derjenige, der in diese Dinge hineinschauen kann, sieht eigentlich fortdauernd, wie unendlich mannigfaltig und großartig alles das ist, was an den Menschen von allen Seiten durch die Elementargeistigkeit der Natur heranströmt. Und es strömt in ihn ein. Es ist dasjenige, was - ich habe es gestern im Sinne der äußeren Vorstellung auseinandergesetzt — aus dem Spiegel der äußeren Natur, die ein Spiegel des Göttlich-Geistigen ist, fortwährend dem Menschen als ein Geistiges entgegenströmt, das da ist als ein Übersinnliches, das über die Natur ergossen ist.
Aber nun ist — wir werden über diese Dinge im Sinne wirklicher anthroposophischer Vorstellung in den nächsten Tagen noch genauer zu sprechen haben — zunächst in dem Menschen diejenige Kraft enthalten, die ich gestern als die Kraft des Drachen beschrieben habe, die Michael bekämpft, des Drachen, mit dem Michael im Streit ist. Ich habe angedeutet, wie dieser Drache zwar eine tierähnliche Gestalt hat, aber eigentlich ein übersinnliches Wesen ist, wie er durch seine Widersetzlichkeit als übersinnliches Wesen in die Sinneswelt verstoßen ist und nun in ihr haust. Ich habe angedeutet, wie er nur im Menschen ist, weil die äußere Natur ihn nicht haben kann. Die äußere Natur in ihrer Unschuld, als ein Spiegel der göttlichen Geistigkeit, hat mit dem Drachen nichts zu tun. Ich habe gestern dargestellt, wie er in den Menschenwesenheiten sitzt. Dadurch aber, daß er ein solches Wesen ist, daß er ein Übersinnliches in der Sinneswelt ist, zieht er in demselben Augenblicke dasjenige an, was aus den Weiten der Natur an den Menschen als übersinnliches Elementarisches heranströmt, verbindet sich mit dem, und statt daß der Mensch durch seine Seelenhaftigkeit, durch sein Gemüt die Elementarwesen, sagen wir der Pflanzen, aus ihrer Verzauberung erlöst, verbindet er sie mit dem Drachen, läßt er sie in seiner niederen Natur mit dem Drachen untergehen. Denn alles in der Welt ist in der Strömung einer Entwickelung, nimmt die verschiedensten Wege der Entwickelung. Und jene Elementarwesen, die in den Mineralien, Pflanzen und Tieren leben, müssen zu höherem Dasein aufsteigen, als sie es haben können in den gegenwärtigen Mineralien, Pflanzen und Tieren. Das können sie nur, wenn sie durch den Menschen durchgehen. Der Mensch ist wahrhaftig auf der Erde nicht nur dazu da, daß er die äußere Kultur begründet. Der Mensch hat innerhalb der ganzen Weltenentwickelung ein kosmisches Ziel, und dieses kosmische Ziel hängt mit solchen Dingen zusammen, wie ich sie eben beschrieben habe: mit der Höherentwickelung jener Elementarwesen, die im irdischen Dasein auf einer niederen Stufe stehen, aber zu einer höheren Stufe bestimmt sind, und die, wenn der Mensch in ein bestimmtes Verhältnis zu ihnen kommt, und wenn das alles mit rechten Dingen zugeht, zu einer höheren Entwickelungsstufe kommen können.
Es war nun in der Tat in den alten Zeiten der instinktiven Menschenentwickelung, da die Menschen in ihrem Gemüt als Erleben hatten das Seelisch-Geistige, und da ihnen das Geistig-Seelische ebenso ein Selbstverständliches war wie das Natürliche, so, daß in der Tat die Weltenentwickelung vorrückte, indem gewissermaßen die Strömung des Daseins durch den Menschen in einer regelrechten Weise durchging. Aber gerade in der Epoche, die jetzt ihren Abschluß finden muß, die jetzt zu einer höheren Geistigkeit vorrücken muß, ist es so gewesen, daß Unzähliges von Elementarwesenhaftigkeit innerhalb des Menschen dem Drachen ausgeliefert worden ist. Denn es ist gerade das die Wesenhaftigkeit dieses Drachen, daß er dürstet und hungert nach diesen Elementarwesen; er möchte überall herumschleichen, er möchte alle Pflanzen und Mineralien abschlecken, um in sich die Elementarwesen der Natur aufsaugen zu können. Denn mit denen will er sich verbinden, mit denen will er sein eigenes Dasein durchdringen. In der außermenschlichen Natur kann er das nicht, er kann es nur in der innermenschlichen Natur. Er kann es nur in der menschlichen Natur, weil dort für ihn eine Möglichkeit des Daseins ist. Und wenn das so fortginge, dann wäre die Erde dem Verfall anheimgegeben, dann würde unbedingt der Drache, von dem ich gestern gesprochen habe, im irdischen Dasein siegen. Er würde aus einem ganz bestimmten Grunde siegen, weil dadurch, daß er sich gewissermaßen in der Menschennatur vollsaugt mit den Elementarwesen, etwas geschieht.
Es geschieht dadurch physisch, seelisch und geistig etwas. Geistig: nun, der Mensch würde niemals zu dem albernen Glauben an eine bloß materielle Außenwelt, wie sie die Naturforschung heute annimmt, würde niemals zu einer Annahme von toten Atomen kommen, wie er heute kommt, und zu ähnlichem. Der Mensch würde niemals zu solchen fortschrittfeindlichen Gesetzen kommen, wie dem von der Erhaltung der Kraft und der Energie und der Erhaltung der Materie und dergleichen, wenn nicht der Drache in ihm die Elementarwesen von außen aufsaugen würde. Dadurch, daß die Elementarwesen von außen in ihm sitzen, wird der menschliche Blick von dem Geistigen der Dinge abgelenkt. Wenn der Mensch nach außen sieht, dann sieht er nicht mehr das Geistige in den Dingen, das mittlerweile in ihn eingezogen ist, sondern er sieht nur die tote Materie.
Und im Seelischen? Alles, was der Mensch jemals geäußert hat an demjenigen, was ich Feigheiten der Seele nennen möchte, rührt von dem her, was der Drache an Elementargewalten in ihm aufsaugt. Oh, wie sind sie verbreitet, diese Feigheiten der Seele! Der Mensch weiß ganz gut: Dies oder jenes soll ich tun, dies oder jenes ist in einer bestimmten Lage das Richtige. - Er kann sich nicht dazu aufraffen, er kann es nicht tun, irgend etwas wirkt als seelische Schwere in ihm. Es sind die Elementarwesen im Leibe des Drachen, die in ihm wirken.
Und physisch? Der Mensch würde niemals von demjenigen geplagt werden, was man die Bazillen der Krankheiten nennt, wenn nicht in ihm durch jene geistigen Wirkungen, die ich jetzt beschrieben habe, sein Leib fähig gemacht würde, ein Boden für Bazillenwirkungen zu sein. Bis in die physische Organisation gehen diese Dinge hinein. Und man möchte sagen: Sieht man richtig den Menschen in geistiger, seelischer und physischer Verfassung, sieht man, wie er nach diesen drei Richtungen hin heute ist, so sieht man, daß - allerdings zu einem guten Zwecke, zum Zwecke der Erlangung seiner Freiheit -— der Mensch nach drei Richtungen hin vom Geistigen abgeschnitten worden ist, daß er die geistigen Kräfte nicht mehr in sich hat, die er haben könnte. Und so sehen Sie, wie durch diese dreifache Schwächung seines Lebens, durch das, was der vollgesogene Drache in dem Menschen geworden ist, der Mensch abgehalten wird, die Schlagkraft des Geistigen in sich zu erleben.
Es gibt zweierlei Art, Anthroposophie zu erleben. Es gibt noch mannigfaltige Differenzierungen dazwischen, ich will nur die beiden Extreme anführen. Die eine Art ist diese: Man setzt sich auf seinen Stuhl, nimmt ein Buch, liest es, findet es ja ganz interessant, findet es tröstlich für den Menschen, daß es einen Geist gibt, daß es eine Unsterblichkeit gibt, man findet sich recht wohl dabei, daß es das gibt und daß der Mensch der Seele nach nicht tot ist, wenn er auch dem Körper nach tot ist. Man findet sich mehr befriedigt an einer solchen Weltanschauung als an einer materialistischen, man nimmt sie auf, wie man vielleicht die abstrakten Gedanken der Geographie aufnimmt, nur daß, was er bei der Anthroposophie erhält, für den Menschen tröstlicher ist. Gewiß, das ist die eine Art: Man steht von seinem Sitz wieder so auf, wie man sich eigentlich niedergesetzt hat, nur daß man eine gewisse Befriedigung an der Lektüre gehabt hat. Ich könnte ja auch von einem Vortrage reden, statt von der Lektüre. Nun gibt es eine andere Art, Anthroposophie auf sich wirken zu lassen, die Art, daß man Dinge, wie zum Beispiel die Idee vom Streite Michaels mit dem Drachen, so in sich aufnimmt, daß man eigentlich innerlich verwandelt wird, daß es einem ein wichtiges, einschneidendes Erlebnis ist, und daß man im Grunde genommen als ein ganz anderer von seinem Sitze wieder aufsteht, nachdem man so etwas gelesen hat. Zwischen diesen beiden Arten gibt es noch alle möglichen Nuancen.
Auf die erste Art Leser kann zum Beispiel gar nicht gerechnet werden, wenn von der Wiederbelebung des Michael-Festes die Rede ist, sondern es kann nur auf diejenigen gerechnet werden, die vielleicht, wenigstens annähernd in ihrem Willen das haben, Anthroposophie als etwas Lebendiges in sich aufzunehmen. Und das ist dasjenige, was innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung erlebt werden sollte: diese Notwendigkeit, die Gedanken, die man zunächst als Gedanken empfängt, als Lebensmächte zu empfinden. Ich werde jetzt etwas ganz Paradoxes sagen: Manchmal begreift man die Gegner der Anthroposophie viel besser als die Anhänger. Die Gegner sagen: Ach, diese anthroposophischen Gedanken sind phantastisch, sie entsprechen keiner Wirklichkeit. - Die Gegner weisen sie ab, sie sind nicht weiter von ihnen berührt. Man kann ein solches Verhältnis gut verstehen, man kann die verschiedensten Gründe dafür anführen, meistens ist es die Furcht vor diesen Gedanken, die nur unbewußt bleibt, aber immerhin, es ist ein Verhältnis. Oftmals aber kommt dieses vor, daß die Gedanken zwar aufgenommen werden, daß man aber durch die Gedanken, die von alledem abweichen, was sonst in der Welt aufgenommen werden kann, nicht einmal so viel fühlt, wie man fühlt, wenn man an den Knopf einer Elektrisiermaschine den Knöchel hält und elektrisiert wird. Da fühlt man durch den elektrischen Funken wenigstens körperlich einiges Zucken. Ein solches Einschlagen eines Funkens in die Seele ist dasjenige, was einem, wenn es nicht vorhanden ist, so ungeheuren Schmerz machen kann. Dies hängt mit dem zusammen, daß unsere Zeit notwendig hat für die Menschen, nicht nur vom Physischen ergriffen zu werden, sondern notwendig hat, vom Geistigen ergriffen und gepackt zu werden. Der Mensch vermeidet es, gestoßen, gezerrt zu werden, aber er vermeidet es nicht, Gedanken an sich herankommen zu lassen, die von andern Welten handeln, die sich als etwas ganz Besonderes in die gegenwärtige Welt der Sinne hereinstellen, und vermeidet es nicht, diesen Gedanken gegenüber dieselbe Gleichgültigkeit zu haben wie den Gedanken der Sinne gegenüber.
Dieses Sich-Aufschwingen dazu, daß man von den Gedanken über das Geistige so erfaßt werden kann wie dutch irgend etwas Physisches in der Welt: das ist Michael-Kraft! Vertrauen haben zu den Gedanken des Geistigen, wenn man die Anlage dazu hat, sie überhaupt aufzunehmen, so daß man weiß: Du hast diesen oder jenen Impuls aus dem Geistigen. Du gibst dich ihm hin, du machst dich zum Werkzeug seiner Ausführung. Ein erster Mißerfolg kommt — macht nichts! Ein zweiter Mißerfolg kommt — macht nichts! Und wenn hundert Mißerfolge kommen — macht nichts! Denn kein Mißerfolg ist jemals ausschlaggebend für die Wahrheit eines geistigen Impulses, dessen Wirkung innerlich durchschaut und ergriffen ist. Denn erst dann hat man Vertrauen, das richtige Vertrauen zu einem geistigen Impuls, den man in einem bestimmten Zeitpunkt faßt, wenn man sich sagt: Hundert Male habe ich Mißerfolg gehabt, das kann mir aber höchstens beweisen, daß für mich in dieser Inkarnation die Bedingungen zur Realisierung dieses Impulses nicht gegeben sind. Daß dieser Impuls aber richtig ist, das schaue ich durch seinen eigenen Charakter. Und wenn es auch erst nach der hundertsten Inkarnation sein wird, daß für diesen Impuls die Kräfte zu seiner Realisierung mir erwachsen — nichts kann mich überzeugen von der Durchschlagskraft oder Nichtdurchschlagskraft eines geistigen Impulses als dessen eigene Natur. - Wenn Sie sich dies im Gemüte des Menschen als das große Vertrauen für irgend etwas Geistiges ausgebildet denken, wenn Sie sich denken, daß der Mensch felsenfest halten kann an etwas, was er als ein geistig Siegendes durchschaut hat, so festhalten kann, daß er es auch dann nicht losläßt, wenn die äußere Weit noch so sehr dagegen spricht, wenn Sie sich dies vorstellen, dann haben Sie eine Vorstellung von dem, was eigentlich die Michael-Kraft, die Michael-Wesenheit von dem Menschen will, denn dann erst haben Sie eine Anschauung von dem, was das große Vertrauen in den Geist ist. Man kann irgendeinen geistigen Impuls zurückstellen, selbst für die ganze Inkarnation zurückstellen, aber hat man ihn einmal gefaßt, so darf man niemals wanken, ihn in seinem Inneren zu hegen und zu pflegen; dann allein kann man ihn aufsparen für die folgenden Inkarnationen. Und wenn auf diese Weise das Vertrauen zu dem Geistigen eine solche Seelenverfassung begründet, daß man in die Lage kommt, dieses Geistige als so real zu empfinden wie den Boden unter unseren Füßen, von dem wir wissen, daß, wenn er nicht da wäre, wir mit unseren Füßen nicht auftreten könnten, dann haben wir ein Gefühl in unserem Gemüte von dem, was eigentlich Michael von uns will.
Sie werden ohne Zweifel zugestehen, daß von diesem Vertrauen, von diesem aktiven Vertrauen in den Geist im Laufe der letzten Jahrhunderte, ja des letzten Jahrtausends der Menschheit unendlich viel dahingeschwunden ist, daß es eigentlich heute für die meisten Menschen so ist, daß gar nicht aus dem Leben die Zumutung an sie herantritt, ein solches Vertrauen zu entwickeln. Das aber ist es, was kommen mußte. Denn was sage ich damit eigentlich, indem ich dieses ausspreche? Ich sage: Im Grunde genommen hat der Mensch die Brücke zur Michael-Kraft hinter sich abgebrochen. Aber in der Welt hat sich mittlerweile manches ereignet. Der Mensch ist gewissermaßen von der Michael-Kraft abgefallen; der starre und straffe Materialismus des 19. Jahrhunderts ist ja ein Abfall von der Michael-Kraft. Aber im Objektiven, im äußeren Geistigen hat die Michael-Kraft gesiegt, hat gerade im letzten Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts gesiegt. Dasjenige, was der Drache hat erreichen wollen, durch die menschliche Entwickelung hat erreichen wollen, das wird nicht erreicht werden. Aber das andere Große steht heute vor der menschlichen Seele, daß der Mensch aus eigenem, freiem Entschluß den Sieg des Michael über den Drachen wird mitmachen müssen. Das aber bedingt, daß der Mensch wirklich die Möglichkeit findet, aus jener Passivität des Verhältnisses zum Geistigen, in dem er heute so vielfach ist, herauszutreten und in ein aktives Verhältnis zum Geistigen zu kommen. Die Michael-Kräfte lassen sich nicht erringen — auch nicht durch das passive Gebet durch irgendeine Art von Passivität. Die Michael-Kräfte lassen sich einzig und allein dadurch erringen, daß der Mensch mit seinem liebevollen Willen sich zum Werkzeug für die göttlich-geistigen Kräfte macht. Denn die Michael-Kräfte wollen nicht, daß der Mensch zu ihnen fleht, sie wollen, daß der Mensch sich mit ihnen verbündet. Das kann der Mensch, wenn er mit innerer Energie die Lehren von der geistigen Welt aufnimmt.
So können wir hindeuten auf dasjenige, was im Menschen eintreten muß, damit der Michael-Gedanke wieder lebendig werden kann. Der Mensch muß das Erlebnis des Geistigen wirklich haben können. Er muß dieses Erlebnis des Geistigen aus dem bloßen Gedanken, nicht etwa erst aus irgendeiner Hellsichtigkeit heraus, gewinnen können. Es wäre schlimm, wenn jeder Mensch hellsichtig werden müßte, um dieses Vertrauen zu dem Geist haben zu können. Dieses Vertrauen zu dem Geist kann ein jeder haben, der überhaupt nur Empfänglichkeit hat für die Lehren der Geisteswissenschaft. Durchdringt sich der Mensch immer mehr und mehr mit diesem Vertrauen für das Geistige, dann wird über ihn etwas kommen wie eine Inspiration, eine Inspiration, auf die eigentlich alle guten Geister der Welt warten. Der Mensch wird den Frühling erleben, so erleben, daß er die Schönheit, die Lieblichkeit der Pflanzenwelt empfindet, daß er seine innigste Freude über das sprießende, sprossende Leben hat, aber er wird zu gleicher Zeit ein Gefühl dafür bekommen, daß in allem sprießenden, sprossenden Leben elementarisch Geistiges verzaubert ist. Er wird ein Gefühl, einen Gemütsinhalt dafür bekommen, daß jeder Blütensproß ihm Zeuge wird für die Tatsache, daß in der blühenden Pflanze Wohnung nimmt ein verzaubertes Elementarwesen. Und der Mensch wird ein Gefühl dafür bekommen, wie in diesem Elementarwesen die Sehnsucht lebt, gerade durch ihn erlöst zu werden, nicht übergeben zu werden dem Drachen, dem es durch seine eigene Unsichtbarkeit ja verwandt ist. Der Mensch wird ein Gefühl dafür bekommen, wenn dann die Blumen im Herbste abwelken, daß es ihm gelungen ist, etwas beizutragen, damit die Welt in ihrer Geistigkeit wiederum ein Stückchen weiterkomme, und daß mit der abwelkenden und sich senkenden Blüte, mit der Blüte, die in den Samen übergeht, die hart und welk wird, ein Elementarwesen aus der Pflanze schlüpft. Entsprechend dem, wie sich der Mensch mit der starken Michael-Kraft durchdrungen hat, wird er es sein, der dieses elementarische Wesen nach aufwärts führt, in die Geistigkeit, nach der es strebt.
Und der Mensch wird den Jahreslauf miterleben. Er wird den Frühling erleben wie die Geburt von Elementarwesen, die nach Geistigkeit streben, und er wird den Herbst erleben wie die Befreiung dieser Elementarwesen aus den abwelkenden Pflanzen, aus den abwelkenden Blüten und so weiter. Der Mensch wird nicht nur für sich allein als ein kosmischer Einsiedler im Herbste um ein halbes Jahr älter geworden sein, als er im Frühling war. Der Mensch wird zusammen mit der werdenden Natur dann um ein Stück des Lebens fortgeschritten sein. Der Mensch wird nicht bloß so und so oft den physischen Sauerstoff ein- und ausgeatmet haben, er wird teilgenommen haben an dem Werden der Natur, teilgenommen haben an der Verzauberung und Entzauberung von Geistwesen in der Natur. Der Mensch wird nicht nur sein Älterwerden empfinden, er wird die Verwandlung der Natur mit als sein Schicksal empfinden. Er wird zusammenwachsen mit dem, was draußen wächst, er wird größer werden in seinem Wesen, indem sich sein Individuelles als freies Wesen in das Kosmische hineinopfernd ergießen kann. Das wird dasjenige sein, was er beitragen kann zum günstigen Entscheid des Streites Michaels mit dem Drachen.
Und so können wir darauf hinweisen, daß dasjenige, was zu einem Michael-Fest führen kann, ein menschliches Gemütsereignis sein muß, das Gemütsereignis, das in der angedeuteten Weise den Jahreslauf wiederum wirklich als ein Reales erlebt. Sagen Sie aber nicht, indem Sie diesen abstrakten Gedanken hinstellen vor Ihre Seele, Sie würden dieses erleben, sagen Sie das erst, wenn Sie tatsächlich Anthroposophie so aufgenommen haben, daß Anthroposophie Sie jede Pflanze, jeden Stein anders anschauen lehrt, als Sie vorher die Pflanze oder den Stein angeschaut haben, sagen Sie es auch erst, nachdem die Anthroposophie Sie gelehrt hat, das ganze Menschenleben in seinem Werden anders anzuschauen.
Ich wollte Ihnen dadurch eine Art Blick geben auf dasjenige, was sich gerade im menschlichen Gemüt vorbereiten muß, damit dieses Menschengemüt geeignet werde, die Natur um sich herum zu empfinden wie die eigne Wesenheit. Notdürftig haben sich die Menschen noch bewahrt, sagen wir, ihren Blutkreislauf so zu erleben, daß sich in ihm zugleich ein Seelisches neben dem Materiellen abspielt. Wenn die Menschen nicht krasse Materialisten sind, haben sie sich das noch bewahrt. Aber den Pulsschlag des äußeren Daseins wie das Innere zu empfinden, den Jahreslauf wieder so mitzuerleben, wie man das Leben innerhalb seiner eigenen Haut erlebt, das ist das, was zum MichaelFest vorbereiten muß.
Ich möchte, daß diese Vorträge - wie sie dazu bestimmt sind, die Beziehungen zwischen der Anthroposophie und dem menschlichen Gemüt vor die Seele zu rücken - auch wirklich nicht bloß aufgefaßt werden mit dem Kopfe, sondern daß sie gerade auch mit dem Gemüte aufgefaßt werden. Denn eigentlich ist alle Anthroposophie ziemlich vergeblich in der Welt und unter den Menschen, die nicht mit dem Gemüte aufgefaßt wird, die nicht Wärme hineinträgt in dieses menschliche Gemüt. Gescheitheit haben die letzten Jahrhunderte reichlich über die Menschen gebracht; im Denken sind die Menschen so weit fortgeschritten, daß sie schon gar nicht mehr wissen, wie gescheit sie sind. Das ist schon so. Gewiß glaubt mancher, die Menschen wären dumm in der Gegenwart. Es mag zwar zugegeben werden, daß es auch Dumme gibt, aber dies ist eigentlich nur aus dem Grunde, weil die Gescheitheit so groß geworden ist, daß die Menschen aus einer Schwäche ihres Gemütes heraus mit ihrer Gescheitheit nichts anzufangen wissen. Ich sage immer, wenn es von jemandem heißt, er wäre dumm: Da ist nichts anderes im Spiele, als daß der mit seiner Gescheitheit nichts anzufangen weiß. Ich habe schon vielen Verhandlungen zugehört, wo über den einen oder andern Redner deshalb gelacht worden ist, weil man ihn für dumm hielt, manchmal aber erschienen mir die, über die man am meisten lachte, wirklich als die Gescheitesten. Gescheitheit also haben die letzten Jahrhunderte den Menschen genug gebracht. Was sie aber heute brauchen, ist Wärme des Gemütes, und die kann die Anthroposophie geben. Wenn jemand Anthroposophie studiert und sagt, sie lasse ihn kalt, dann kommt er mir vor wie einer, der Holz in den Ofen legt und wieder Holz hineinlegt und dann sagt: Es wird ja ewig nicht warm. — Aber er sollte nur das Holz anzünden, dann wird es schon warm werden! Die Anthroposophie kann man vortragen, sie ist das gute Holz der Seele; aber anzünden kann es jeder nur selber. Das ist das, was jeder in seinem Gemüte finden muß: das Zündholz für die Anthroposophie. Wer die Anthroposophie kalt und nüchtern und intellektuell findet, dem fehlt nur die Möglichkeit, diese sehr brennende, sehr wärmende und das Gemüt durchseelende Anthroposophie anzuzünden, so daß sie ihn mit ihrem Feuer durchglühen kann. Und so wie man für das gewöhnliche Holz nur ein kleines Zündholz braucht, so braucht man auch für die Anthroposophie nur ein kleines Zündholz. Damit aber werden wir die Michael-Kraft im Menschen entzünden können.
Second Lecture
What I was able to say yesterday at the end of the lecture about the old conception of Michael's fight with the dragon was probably already an indication of how a kind of revival is necessary for our time of the worldview elements that once lay in this gigantic image for mankind, as we have seen, not so far in the past. For I was able to point out at various points in yesterday's lecture that this idea was still fully alive in many 18th century souls. But before I have to speak in the next lectures about what can and must lead to a revival of this idea from the spirit of our time, from a real spiritual view of our time, it is necessary for me to present a more general anthroposophical view to you today, as an episodic insertion, so to speak. From this it will then emerge in what way the idea indicated can be revived so that it can again become a true force in the thinking, feeling and acting of humanity.
If we consider man's relationship to nature and to the whole world today, we will be able to say, if only we can compare this relationship today with the relationship of earlier times impartially enough: Man today has actually become a true hermit in relation to the cosmic powers, a hermit in so far as he is brought into physical existence through his birth and no longer has those memories of the pre-earthly existence that the whole of humanity once really had. In the time in which man otherwise only grows up to use his powers of intellect and memory, up to which one remembers back in earthly life, man in the older epochs of mankind's development once had at the same time the illumination of a real memory, a real looking back to pre-earthly experiences, to experiences which he went through as a spiritual-soul being before his earthly life. That is the one thing that makes man to a certain extent a world hermit today, that he is not aware of how his earthly existence is connected to a spiritual existence. The other is that man today directs his gaze out into the vastness of the cosmos, that he looks at the outer forms of the stars and constellations, but that he no longer has an inner spiritual relationship to the spiritual in the cosmos. Yes, one can also go further. Today man directs his gaze to the realms of nature that surround him on earth, to the manifold beauty of the plants, to the gigantic mountains, to the drifting clouds and so on; but even there he must confine himself to what makes an impression on his senses, he is even very often afraid, when he acquires a more intimate, deeper relationship to the vastness of nature, that he might lose his naive view of nature. But as necessary as this phase of mankind's development was for man to develop what we experience in the consciousness of freedom, in the feeling of freedom, as necessary as this was for man to come to his full self-consciousness, to that inner strength which allows the I to rise up with full strength in man, as necessary, as I said, was this hermit life of man in the cosmos: it must only be a transition to another epoch, in which man again finds his way back to the spiritual, which is the basis of all things and entities. And precisely this finding back to the spiritual must be achieved through that power which can become man if he can grasp the Michael idea in its true form and in that form which it must assume for our time in the right sense.
We need to be imbued with the Michael-impulse for the thinking life, for the emotional life, and also for the life of deeds. But of course it is not enough to hear something like this: A Michael festival must come alive again in humanity, and it is now time to add this Michael festival to the other festivals of the year. - It is not enough for some people to say: So let's start, let's celebrate a Michaelmas! - If that is to be achieved in the world which anthroposophy is to strive for, then it goes without saying that the superficiality otherwise customary in the world today must not play a role in the institutions of anthroposophy, but that if anything grows out of anthroposophy, it must grow out of it with the utmost seriousness. And in order to familiarize ourselves a little with what this seriousness is supposed to be, I would like to ask you to consider how the festivals that have faded today and were once alive have become part of the development of humanity.
Did Christmas, did Easter, for example, arise from the decision of a few people who said: We have an idea to celebrate a festival at a certain time of the year and we will organize the necessary events? - Of course that is not the case. In order for something like Christmas to find its way into humanity, it was necessary for Christ Jesus to be born, for this fact to have occurred in the world-historical development of the earth, for an outstanding event to have taken place. And Easter? It would never have had any meaning in the world if it had not been the feast of remembrance of what happened through the Mystery of Golgotha, if this event had not had an incisive effect on the whole development of humanity and the history of the earth. If today these festivals have faded, if the whole seriousness is no longer felt at Christmas, nor at Easter, this should perhaps lead to a more intensive understanding of the birth of Christ Jesus and the Mystery of Golgotha. Under no circumstances, however, should there be room for the idea that, in order to add another feast to these feasts with the same superficiality, we should now begin to simply establish the feast of St. Michael in the autumn.
There must be something that - even if perhaps to a lesser extent - can be incisive in the development of mankind in the same way as all the events that have led to festivals have been incisive. It must certainly come about that a Michaelmas can be celebrated in all seriousness, and an understanding for this Michaelmas must be able to grow out of the anthroposophical movement. But just as external events, events in the objective of becoming, have led to Christmas and Easter, so something within humanity - that humanity which takes the decision to do something like this - must become quite different from what it was before. Anthroposophy must become a profound experience, an experience of which man is really able to speak in a similar way to the way he is able to speak when the whole power that lies in the birth of Christ Jesus, which is in the Mystery of Golgotha, dawns upon him. As I said, to a lesser extent this may be the case at the Michaelmas festival, but something of soul-transforming power must emerge from the anthroposophical movement. One would like anthroposophy to have this power to transform souls. And it will only be able to do this if what lies in its teachings, if I may say so, is actually experienced.
Now we want to place before our souls today some of those experiences that can enter the inner being of man through anthroposophy. In the life of the human soul we distinguish between thinking, feeling and willing, and when we look at feeling in particular we speak of the human mind. We find our thinking cold, dry, sober, we find it spiritually draining, so to speak, when thoughts live in abstract form in our soul, when we are not able to send up into these thoughts the warmth, the enthusiasm of feeling. We can only call a person comfortable if his thoughts, as he expresses them to us, radiate something of the inner warmth of his soul. And we can only really approach a person when he not only acts dutifully and correctly towards us, when he not only acts dutifully and correctly towards the world, but when there is something in his actions that allows us to see that the enthusiasm of his heart, the warmth, the love for nature, for every being, flows into them. Thus, so to speak, this human mind sits at the center of the soul's life.
But even if the thinking, even if the will, have taken on a certain character through the fact that man has become a cosmic hermit, the human mind has actually taken on a certain character under this cosmic hermitage. The mind may place its perfect calculations about the universe before it, it may delight in the subtlety of what is being calculated, but it does not feel how far removed it is from the warm pulse of life. And many a man can perhaps satisfy himself in correct, purely dutiful action without really feeling how life in this sober action is only half a life. Neither comes very close to the human soul. But that which lies between thinking and willing, all that which comprises the human mind, comes very, very close to the whole human being. And if we sometimes believe that even that which should actually warm, elevate and enthuse the mind can grow cold in the present, given the peculiar disposition of some people, this is a deception. It is, after all, the case that for that which man experiences inwardly, consciously experiences, it is possible, let us say the paradox, to be comfortless if need be, but it is not possible to be comfortless without the human being somehow being seized by comfortlessness. And if man can bear it mentally, perhaps by being soulless he forces himself to be soulless, then this will eat away at his whole being in some other form, will eat away into his physical organization, into his health and illness. Many of the phenomena of decline that are occurring in our time are basically connected with the lack of spirit into which many people have found themselves. But what is meant by these more general statements will only become clear to us when we delve a little deeper into the reflections we began yesterday.
Man, who simply grows into the present civilization, looks at the things of the outer world, perceives them, makes his abstract thoughts about them, perhaps also has his hearty joy, his hearty satisfaction in the lovely blossom, in the majestic plant, perhaps even, if he has imagination, gains a certain inner picture of the lovely blossom, of the majestic plant. But he has no idea what his deeper relationship is - let's start by picking out one thing - to the world of plants. It is truly not enough for a spiritual view that we speak of spirit and spirit and spirit again, but it is necessary that we become aware of the truly spiritual relationships that we have to the things around us.
When we look at a plant, as we are used to looking at it today, we do not even suspect that there is an elementary being in this plant, a spiritual being, that there is something in every such plant for which it is not enough that we look at it and form the abstract image that we generally form of plants today. For in every such plant there is an elementary spiritual essence, but it is contained in such a way that it is, so to speak, enchanted in the plant. And basically, the only person who looks at a plant correctly is the one who says to himself: This is, in all its beauty, the envelopment of a spiritual being that is enchanted within. - Certainly, in the great cosmic context, a relatively insignificant being, but a being that has a deep relationship with man.
Man is actually so intimately connected with the world that he cannot take a walk in nature without the intimate relationships in which he stands to the world having an intense meaning for him. When the lily in the field grows from the sprout to the blossom, then we have to imagine quite intensely - without personification - that this lily is waiting for something. I must again express it with human words, just as I had to express yesterday's image with human words. Of course, human words do not quite capture things, but they do express what is inside things as reality. This lily, by unfolding its leaves, but especially its blossom, is actually waiting for something. It says to itself: "People will pass me by, people who will look at me, and when enough human eyes have fixed their gaze on me, then I will - so says the spirit of the lily - be disenchanted from the enchantment and will be able to start my journey into spiritual worlds! -- Surely, you will say, there are many lilies growing that are not seen by human eyes. - It is different with them. Lilies that are not seen by human eyes find their disenchantment in a different way. For the first human eye that looks upon a lily evokes the determination that this lily will be disenchanted by human eyes. It is a relationship that the lily enters into with man in that man first casts his gaze on the lily. These elemental spirits are everywhere in our surroundings, and they actually call out to us: don't look at the flowers so abstractly and don't just make abstract images of them, but have a heart, a mind for what dwells spiritually and emotionally in the flowers. This wants to be released from its enchantment through you. - And human existence should actually be an ongoing redemption of enchanted elemental spirits in minerals, plants and animals.
Such an idea can be felt in its full beauty. But precisely by grasping it in the right spiritual sense, it can also be felt in the light of the full responsibility in which man thereby places himself in relation to the whole cosmos. And the way in which man relates to flowers in the present, in the civilization epoch of the development of freedom, is actually a sipping of that which he should actually drink. He sips by forming concepts and ideas, and he should drink by connecting with his mind to the elemental spirits of the things and beings around him.
I said: We need not think of those lilies on which a human gaze never falls, but we must think of those on which the human gaze falls, for they need the emotional relationship that man can enter into with them. Now, however, the effect emanates from the lily. And the spiritual effects are manifold, great and mighty, which continually approach man from the things of nature, as man makes his way through nature. He who can look into these things actually sees continuously how infinitely manifold and magnificent everything is that flows towards man from all sides through the elemental spirituality of nature. And it flows into him. It is that which - I explained it yesterday in the sense of the outer concept - continually flows towards man from the mirror of outer nature, which is a mirror of the divine-spiritual, as a spiritual that is there as a supersensible that is poured over nature.
But now - we will have to talk about these things in the sense of real anthroposophical conception in more detail in the next few days - first of all that power is contained in the human being which I described yesterday as the power of the dragon which Michael fights, the dragon with whom Michael is in conflict. I have indicated how this dragon has an animal-like form, but is actually a supersensible being, how through his rebelliousness as a supersensible being he is cast out into the world of the senses and now dwells in it. I have indicated how it is only in man because external nature cannot have it. Outer nature in its innocence, as a mirror of divine spirituality, has nothing to do with the dragon. Yesterday I described how he sits in human beings. But because he is such a being, because he is a supersensible being in the world of the senses, he attracts at the same moment that which streams to man from the vastness of nature as supersensible elemental beings, connects himself with it, and instead of man redeeming the elemental beings, let us say the plants, from their enchantment through his soulfulness, through his mind, he connects them with the dragon, he lets them perish in his lower nature with the dragon. For everything in the world is in the flow of a development, takes the most varied paths of development. And those elemental beings that live in the minerals, plants and animals must ascend to a higher existence than they can have in the present minerals, plants and animals. They can only do this if they pass through the human being. Man is truly not only there on earth to establish external culture. Man has a cosmic goal within the whole development of the world, and this cosmic goal is connected with such things as I have just described: with the higher development of those elemental beings who are on a lower level in earthly existence but are destined for a higher level, and who, if man comes into a certain relationship with them, and if everything goes right, can come to a higher level of development.
In the old times of instinctive human development, when people had the soul-spiritual in their minds as an experience, and when the soul-spiritual was as natural to them as the natural, it was indeed the case that the world development advanced, in that the current of existence passed through the human being in a regular way. But precisely in the epoch which must now find its conclusion, which must now advance to a higher spirituality, it has been the case that innumerable elemental beings within man have been handed over to the dragon. For it is precisely the nature of this dragon that it thirsts and hungers for these elemental beings; it wants to prowl everywhere, it wants to lick up all plants and minerals in order to absorb the elemental beings of nature. Because he wants to connect with them, he wants to permeate his own existence with them. He cannot do this in extra-human nature, he can only do it in inner-human nature. He can only do it in human nature, because there is a possibility of existence for him there. And if this were to continue, then the earth would be doomed to decay, then the dragon of which I spoke yesterday would definitely triumph in earthly existence. He would triumph for a very specific reason, because something happens as a result of the fact that he, so to speak, imbibes himself with the elemental beings in the human nature.
Something happens physically, mentally and spiritually. Spiritually: well, man would never come to the silly belief in a merely material outer world, as natural science assumes today, would never come to the assumption of dead atoms, as he does today, and the like. Man would never arrive at such anti-progressive laws as that of the conservation of force and energy and the conservation of matter and the like, if the dragon within him did not absorb the elemental beings from outside. The fact that the elemental beings from outside sit within him distracts the human gaze from the spiritual side of things. When man looks outwards, he no longer sees the spiritual in the things that have meanwhile entered him, but sees only dead matter.
>And in the soul?And in the soul? Everything that man has ever expressed in what I would call the cowardice of the soul stems from the elemental forces that the dragon absorbs within him. Oh, how widespread they are, these cowardices of the soul! Man knows very well: I should do this or that, this or that is the right thing to do in a certain situation. - He can't bring himself to do it, he can't do it, something is working in him as a heaviness of the soul. It is the elemental beings in the dragon's body that are at work in him.
And physically? Man would never be afflicted by what are called the germs of disease if his body were not made capable of being a soil for the effects of germs through the spiritual effects I have just described. These things go right into the physical organization. And one would like to say: If one sees man correctly in his spiritual, mental and physical constitution, if one sees how he is today in these three directions, then one sees that - admittedly for a good purpose, for the purpose of attaining his freedom - man has been cut off from the spiritual in three directions, that he no longer has the spiritual powers within him that he could have. And so you see how, through this threefold weakening of his life, through what the full-sucked dragon has become in man, man is prevented from experiencing the striking power of the spiritual within himself.
There are two ways of experiencing anthroposophy. There are many different ways of experiencing anthroposophy, but I will only mention the two extremes. One way is this: You sit down on your chair, take a book, read it, find it quite interesting, find it comforting for the human being that there is a spirit, that there is immortality, you feel quite comfortable with the fact that this exists and that the human being is not dead according to the soul, even if he is dead according to the body. One finds oneself more satisfied with such a world view than with a materialistic one, one accepts it as one perhaps accepts the abstract thoughts of geography, only that what one receives from anthroposophy is more comforting for man. Certainly, that is one way: one gets up from one's seat as one actually sat down, only that one has had a certain satisfaction from the reading. I could also speak of a lecture instead of reading. Now there is another way of letting anthroposophy work on you, the way that you absorb things, such as the idea of Michael's fight with the dragon, in such a way that you are actually transformed inwardly, that it is an important, incisive experience for you, and that you basically get up from your seat as a completely different person after reading something like that. There are all sorts of nuances between these two types
.The first type of reader, for example, cannot be reckoned with at all when we speak of the revival of the Michaelmas festival, but only those can be reckoned with who perhaps, at least approximately, have the will to take anthroposophy into themselves as something living. And that is what should be experienced within the anthroposophical movement: this necessity to feel the thoughts that one initially receives as thoughts as powers of life. I will now say something quite paradoxical: sometimes one understands the opponents of anthroposophy much better than the followers. The opponents say: Oh, these anthroposophical thoughts are fantastic, they don't correspond to any reality. - The opponents reject them, they are no longer affected by them. One can well understand such a relationship, one can cite the most diverse reasons for it, mostly it is the fear of these thoughts, which only remains unconscious, but nevertheless, it is a relationship. Often, however, it happens that the thoughts are indeed received, but that through the thoughts, which deviate from everything else that can be received in the world, one does not even feel as much as one feels when one holds one's ankle to the button of an electrifying machine and is electrified. You at least feel some physical twitching from the electric spark. Such a striking of a spark into the soul is that which, if it is not present, can cause one such immense pain. This has to do with the fact that our time makes it necessary for people not only to be seized by the physical, but also to be seized and gripped by the spiritual. Man avoids being pushed, tugged, but he does not avoid letting thoughts come to him that deal with other worlds, that place themselves as something quite special in the present world of the senses, and does not avoid having the same indifference to these thoughts as to the thoughts of the senses.
This swinging oneself up so that one can be seized by the thoughts about the spiritual as by anything physical in the world: that is Michael-power! To have confidence in the thoughts of the spiritual, if one has the disposition to receive them at all, so that one knows: You have this or that impulse from the spiritual. You surrender to it, you make yourself the instrument of its execution. A first failure comes - it doesn't matter! A second failure comes - it doesn't matter! And if a hundred failures come - it doesn't matter! For no failure is ever decisive for the truth of a spiritual impulse whose effect has been seen through and grasped inwardly. For only then does one have confidence, the right confidence, in a spiritual impulse which one grasps at a certain point in time, when one says to oneself: "I have failed a hundred times, but that can at most prove to me that the conditions for the realization of this impulse are not given for me in this incarnation. But that this impulse is right, I can see that through its own character. And even if it will only be after the hundredth incarnation that the forces for the realization of this impulse arise for me - nothing can convince me of the penetrating power or non-penetrating power of a spiritual impulse but its own nature. - If you imagine this in the mind of man as the great trust formed for something spiritual, if you imagine that man can hold on rock-solid to something that he has seen through as spiritually victorious, that he can hold on so tightly that he will not let it go even if the outer world speaks against it, no matter how much, if you imagine this, then you have an idea of what the Michael-power, the Michael-entity actually wants from man, for only then do you have an idea of what the great trust in the spirit is. You can postpone any spiritual impulse, even for the whole incarnation, but once you have grasped it, you must never waver in cherishing and nurturing it within you; then alone can you save it for the following incarnations. And if in this way trust in the spiritual establishes such a state of soul that one is able to perceive this spiritual as being as real as the ground beneath our feet, which we know that if it were not there we could not step on with our feet, then we have a feeling in our minds of what Michael actually wants from us.
You will no doubt admit that this trust, this active trust in the spirit, has vanished infinitely in the course of the last centuries, indeed of the last millennium of mankind, that it is actually the case for most people today that they are not even confronted with the challenge of developing such trust. But that is what had to come. For what am I actually saying by saying this? I am saying: Basically, man has broken off the bridge to the Michael force behind him. But many things have happened in the world in the meantime. To a certain extent, man has fallen away from the Michael force; the rigid and strict materialism of the 19th century is a fall away from the Michael force. But in the objective, in the outer spiritual, the Michael-force has triumphed, has just triumphed in the last third of the 19th century. That which the dragon wanted to achieve through human development will not be achieved. But the other great thing stands before the human soul today, that man will have to participate in Michael's victory over the dragon of his own free will. But this requires that man really finds the possibility to step out of the passivity of the relationship to the spiritual, in which he is so often today, and to come into an active relationship to the spiritual. The powers of Michael cannot be attained - not even through passive prayer through any kind of passivity. The Michael forces can only be attained by the human being using his loving will to make himself an instrument for the divine-spiritual forces. For the Michael-forces do not want man to plead with them, they want man to ally himself with them. Man can do this if he absorbs the teachings from the spiritual world with inner energy.
In this way we can point to that which must occur in man so that the Michael-thought can come alive again. Man must really be able to have the experience of the spiritual. He must be able to gain this experience of the spiritual from mere thought, not from some clairvoyance. It would be terrible if every human being had to become clairvoyant in order to have this trust in the spirit. Anyone who is receptive to the teachings of spiritual science can have this trust in the spirit. If a person penetrates himself more and more with this trust for the spiritual, then something like an inspiration will come over him, an inspiration that all the good spirits of the world are actually waiting for. Man will experience spring in such a way that he will feel the beauty, the loveliness of the plant world, that he will have his most heartfelt joy over the sprouting, sprouting life, but at the same time he will get a feeling for the fact that in all sprouting, sprouting life there is elementary spiritual enchantment. He will get a feeling, a content of mind for the fact that every blossom sprout is a witness to the fact that an enchanted elemental being takes up residence in the blossoming plant. And the human being will get a feeling for how in this elemental being lives the longing to be redeemed precisely through it, not to be handed over to the dragon, to whom it is related through its own invisibility. When the flowers wither in autumn, the human being will get a feeling for the fact that he has succeeded in contributing something so that the world in its spirituality will again make a little progress, and that with the withering and falling blossom, with the blossom that passes over into the seed, which becomes hard and withered, an elemental being hatches from the plant. According to how man has imbued himself with the strong Michael force, it will be he who leads this elemental being upwards, into the spirituality to which it aspires.
And the human being will experience the course of the year. He will experience spring as the birth of elemental beings striving for spirituality, and he will experience fall as the liberation of these elemental beings from the withering plants, from the withering blossoms and so on. Man will not only have become half a year older for himself alone as a cosmic hermit in autumn than he was in spring. Together with the developing nature, man will then have progressed a bit further in life. Man will not merely have breathed in and out physical oxygen so and so often, he will have participated in the becoming of nature, participated in the enchantment and disenchantment of spiritual beings in nature. Man will not only feel his ageing, he will also feel the transformation of nature as his destiny. He will grow together with what grows outside, he will become greater in his being, in that his individuality can pour itself into the cosmic as a free being. This will be what he can contribute to the favorable decision of Michael's quarrel with the dragon.
And so we can point out that that which can lead to a Michael festival must be a human event of the mind, the event of the mind which in turn really experiences the course of the year as a real one in the manner indicated. But do not say, by placing this abstract thought before your soul, that you would experience this, only say this when you have actually absorbed anthroposophy in such a way that anthroposophy teaches you to look at every plant, every stone differently than you previously looked at the plant or the stone, only say it after anthroposophy has taught you to look at the whole of human life in its becoming differently.
I wanted to give you a kind of insight into what must be prepared in the human mind so that this human mind becomes capable of feeling the nature around it like its own being. In a makeshift way, let us say, people have still preserved the experience of their blood circulation in such a way that in it a spiritual aspect takes place alongside the material. If people are not crass materialists, they have still preserved this. But to feel the pulse of outer existence as well as the inner, to experience the course of the year again in the same way as one experiences life within one's own skin, that is what must prepare us for the MichaelFest.
I would like these lectures - as they are intended to bring the relationship between anthroposophy and the human mind before the soul - to be understood not only with the head, but also with the mind. For actually all anthroposophy is quite futile in the world and among men if it is not grasped with the mind, if it does not carry warmth into this human mind. The last centuries have brought a great deal of cleverness to mankind; people have advanced so far in their thinking that they no longer know how clever they are. That's the way it is. Certainly, some people believe that people are stupid today. It may be admitted that there are also stupid people, but this is really only because cleverness has become so great that people don't know what to do with their cleverness due to a weakness in their minds. I always say that when someone is said to be stupid, it's because they don't know what to do with their cleverness. I have listened to many hearings where one speaker or another was laughed at because they were thought to be stupid, but sometimes those who were laughed at the most really seemed to me to be the cleverest. So the last few centuries have brought people enough cleverness. But what they need today is warmth of mind, and anthroposophy can provide that. If someone studies anthroposophy and says that it leaves him cold, then he seems to me like someone who puts wood in the stove and then puts wood in again and then says: It won't get warm for ever. - But he should just light the wood and it will get warm! Anthroposophy can be recited, it is the good wood of the soul; but everyone can only light it themselves. That is what everyone must find in his mind: the kindling for anthroposophy. He who finds anthroposophy cold and sober and intellectual lacks only the possibility of lighting this very burning, very warming anthroposophy, which soothes the soul, so that it can glow through him with its fire. And just as you only need a small match for ordinary wood, you only need a small match for anthroposophy. With this, however, we will be able to ignite the Michael force in man.