Human Values in Education
GA 310
24 July 1924, Arnheim
X. The Relation of the Art of Teaching to the Anthroposophical Movement
As I am now coming to the concluding words of this course of lectures on education, I should like first of all to take the opportunity of expressing the deep satisfaction I feel that our friends in Holland, who have set themselves the task of fostering the anthroposophical conception of the world, had the will to arrange this course. Such an enterprise always involves an immense amount of hard work for the organisers. And we ourselves, just because we have very many things to arrange in Dornach, know best of all what goes on behind the scenes on such occasions, all the work that has to be done and how much effort and energy are called for. It is therefore obvious that, before leaving Holland, I should express my very warmest thanks to those who have worked together in order to bring about this whole conference. An educational course has taken place and in my closing words I may perhaps be allowed to say something about the part played by the art of education within the whole sphere of the anthroposophical movement.
An educational art has grown up within the anthroposophical movement, not, so to speak, as something which has found its way into the movement through some abstract intention, but it has arisen with a certain necessity out of the movement itself. Up to now few activities have grown out of the anthroposophical movement so naturally and inevitably as this art of education. In the same way, simply as a matter of course, eurythmy has grown out of the anthroposophical movement through Frau Dr. Steiner, medicine through Frau Dr. Wegman; and educational art, as with the other two, has, I may venture to say, arisen likewise in accordance with destiny, with karma. For the anthroposophical movement as such is, without any doubt, the expression of something which corresponds to human striving through the very fact that humanity has arisen on the earth.
We need only look back into those ancient times in the evolution of humanity when Mystery Centres were to be found here and there, in which religion, art and science were cultivated out of experiences of the spirit, and we become aware how in those old, sacred centres human beings have had, as it were, intercourse with beings of the super-sensible world in order to carry spiritual life into external, physical life. We can pursue our way further into the historical development of humanity and we shall discover ever and again the urge to add what is super-sensible to what man perceives with his senses. Such are the perspectives which open up when we penetrate into the historical evolution of humanity and see that what lives in anthroposophy today is ceaseless human striving. As anthroposophy however it lives out of the longings, out of the endeavours of human souls living at the present time. And the following may in truth be said: At the turning point of the 19th to the 20th century it has become possible, if one only has the will, to receive revelations from the spiritual world which will once again deepen the whole world-conception of mankind.
These revelations from the spiritual world, which today must take on a different manifestation from the old Mystery Truths, must accord with modern scientific knowledge. They form the content of anthroposophy. And whoever makes them his own knows also that out of the conditions of our present age many, many more people would come to anthroposophy were it not for the tremendous amount of prejudice, of pre-conceived feelings and ideas, which put obstacles in their path. But these are things which must be overcome. Out of the small circle of anthroposophists must grow an ever larger one. And if we call to mind everything which is living and working in this circle we may perhaps—without in any way wishing to declare that anthroposophy is itself a religious movement—we may perhaps allow a deeply moving picture to rise up before us.
Call to mind the Mystery of Golgotha. Only a hundred years after the Mystery of Golgotha, the most brilliant Roman writer, Tacitus, writes about Christ as if he were someone almost unknown, who had met his death over in Asia. At that time therefore, in the height of Roman civilisation, of Roman spiritual and cultural life, where people were living in the traditions of the previous several thousand years, even there nothing was known of Christ. And it is possible to paint a word-picture of a significant fact: There above is the Roman civilisation—in the arenas, in brilliant performances, in everything that takes place in Roman social life, in the life of the state. Below, underground, are those regions known as the catacombs. There many people gather together, gather by the graves of those who, like themselves, were believers in the Mystery of Golgotha. These people must keep everything secret. What goes on under the earth only comes to the surface on those occasions when, in the arena, a Christian is smeared with pitch and burned as an entertainment for those who are civilised citizens. Thus we have two worlds: above, the life of Roman civilisation, based on old, resplendent traditions; below, what is developing in secret under the earth. Let us take the brilliant writer of this epoch. He was able to write what amounts to no more than a brief reference in his notes to the coming into being of Christianity, while his writing table in Rome may well have stood over one of the catacombs without his knowing anything whatsoever about what was taking place beneath him.
Let us take several hundred years later. What earlier had spread over the world in such a spectacular way has now disappeared; the Christian civilisation has risen to the surface of the earth and Christianity is beginning to expand in Europe where previously there had been the Roman culture. Keeping such a picture in view one sees how things actually proceed in the evolution of humanity. And often, when contemplating the present time, one is inclined to say: To be sure, anthroposophists today do not bury themselves under the earth; that is no longer customary, or they would have to do it; externally they find themselves in surroundings as beautiful as those we have here; but now ask yourselves whether those from outside, who regard ordinary, normal civilisation as their own, know more about what is taking place here than the Romans knew about what was taking place in the catacombs. One can no longer speak so precisely; the situation has passed over into a more intellectual sphere, but it remains the same. And when in thought one looks forward a few hundred years, one may at any rate indulge in the courageous hope that the picture will change. Of course, those who know as little about anthroposophy today as the Romans knew about Christianity find all this very fantastic; but no one can work actively in the world who is unable to look courageously at the path opening out before him. And anthroposophists would fain look with the same courage at the way which lies ahead. This is why such pictures rise up in the mind's eye.
From time to time we must certainly turn our attention to all the opinions about anthroposophy which are held today. Gradually it has come about that scarcely a week goes by without the appearance of some sort of antagonistic book dealing with anthroposophy. The opponents take anthroposophy very seriously. They refute it every week or so, not indeed so much from different standpoints, for they are not very inventive, but they nevertheless refute it. It is quite interesting to observe how anthroposophy is dealt with when approached in this way. One discovers that very learned people, or people who should have a sense of responsibility, write books on some subject or other and introduce what they have read about anthroposophy. Very often they have not read a single book whose author is an anthroposophist, but they gather their information solely from the works of opponents.
Let us take an example. There was once a Gnosis, of which scarcely anything exists except the Pistis-Sophia, a writing which does not contain very much and is moreover extremely difficult to understand. All those who write about the Gnosis today—for at the present time this realm is very much in the forefront—know little about it, but nevertheless regard themselves as its exponents. They believe that they are giving some explanation of the Gnosis when they say it originated out of Greek culture. I must often think of how it would be if everything related to anthroposophy went the same way; if, as many people often wish, all anthroposophical writings were to be burnt; then anthroposophy would be known as the Gnosis is known today. It is interesting that today many people say that anthroposophy is a warmed-up Gnosis. They do not know anthroposophy because they do not wish to know it, and they do not know the Gnosis because no external document dealing with it exists. Nevertheless this is how people talk. It is a negative example, but it can notwithstanding point in a definite direction. It can certainly only point to this: Courage and strength will be needed if anthroposophy is not to go the same way as the Gnosis, but is to develop so as to unfold its intrinsic reality. When one looks such things in the face, a feeling of deep satisfaction arises when one sees all the various undertakings which come about, of which this conference is an example; for such things taken together should ensure that anthroposophy will work powerfully into the future. In this educational course anthroposophy has, as it were, only peeped in through little windows. Much however has been indicated which may serve to show how anthroposophy goes hand in hand with reality, how it penetrates right into practical life. Just because everything real is permeated with spirit, one can only recognise and understand reality when one has an eye for the spirit. Of course it was not possible to speak here about anthroposophy as such. On the other hand it was perfectly possible to speak about a sphere of activity in which anthroposophy can work fruitfully: I mean the sphere of education.
In the case of eurythmy for instance it was destiny itself that spoke. Today, looking at things from outside, it might well be imagined that at a certain moment someone was struck with a sudden thought: We must have a eurythmy. This was not so, but at that time there was a family whose father had died.
There were a number of children and the mother was concerned about their welfare. She was anxious that something worth while should develop out of them. The anthroposophical movement was still small. The question was put to me: What might develop out of the children? It was in connection with this question that the first steps were taken to come to something in the nature of eurythmy. To begin with the attempt was confined to the very narrowest limits. So it was out of these circumstances that the first indications for eurythmy were given. Destiny had spoken. Its manifestation was made possible through the fact that there was an anthroposophy and that someone standing on anthroposophical ground was seeking her life's career. And soon after—it did not take so very long—the first pupils who had learned eurythmy themselves became teachers and were able to carry eurythmy out into the world. So, with the help of Frau Dr. Steiner, who took it under her wing, eurythmy has become what it is today. In such a case one may well feel convinced that eurythmy has not been sought: eurythmy has sought anthroposophy.
Now let us take medicine. Frau Dr. Wegman has been a member of the Anthroposophical Society ever since there was a Society. Her first attempts to heal out of an artistic perception gave her the predisposition to work medically within the Anthroposophical Movement. As a whole-hearted anthroposophist she devoted herself to medicine. So here too medicine has grown out of the being of anthroposophy and today exists firmly within it because its growth has come about through one particular personality.
And further. When the waves of the world war had subsided, people's thoughts turned in all possible directions: Now at last something really great must happen: now, because human beings have experienced so much suffering, they must find the courage to achieve something great; there must be a complete change of heart. Immense ideals were the order of the day. Authors of all kinds, who otherwise would have written on quite other subjects, wrote about “The Future of the State” or “The Future of the Social Order” and so on. Everywhere thoughts were turned towards what could now come about out of man himself. On anthroposophical soil many such things sprang up and faded away. Only in the realm of education there was very little to show up to this time. My little book, The Education of the Child from the Aspect of Spiritual Science, which appeared more or less at the beginning of the Anthroposophical Movement, was already there and it contained all kinds of indications which could be developed into a whole system of education. It was however not regarded as anything special, nothing more than a booklet that might help mothers to bring up their children. I was constantly asked: Should this child be dressed in blue, or that one in red? Should this child be given a yellow bed-cover or that child a red one? I was also asked what one or another child should eat, and so on. This was an admirable striving in an educational direction but it did not amount to very much.
Then in Stuttgart, out of all these confused ideals, there emerged Emil Molt's idea to found a school for the children of the workers at the Waldorf-Astoria cigarette factory. And Emil Molt, who is present today, had the notion to hand the direction of the school over to me. That was a foregone conclusion. Destiny could not have it otherwise. The school was founded with 150 children drawn from the Waldorf-Astoria factory. It was provided with teachers drawn from the Anthroposophical Movement. The law pertaining to schools in Württemberg made it possible to choose as teachers men and women who were regarded as suitable. The only condition made was that those who were to become teachers should be able to give some proof in a general way that they were well-fitted for their task. All this happened before the great “freeing of humanity” through the Weimar National Assembly From that time onwards we should no longer have been able to set about things so freely. As it was, we could make a beginning, and it will be possible at least for a few years to maintain the lower classes also.1It was then possible that a State law might prevent children from entering the school before the fifth class.
Well, then anthroposophy took over the school, or one might equally well say, the school took over anthroposophy. And in a few years the school grew in such a way that children were entered coming from very different backgrounds and belonging to all classes of life. All kinds of people wanted their children to attend Waldorf School, anthroposophists and non-anthroposophists. Very strange opinions were held. Naturally enough parents are fondest of their own children and of course want to send them to an excellent school. To give one example, we have had the following experience. There are many opponents whose opposition is based on scientific grounds; and they know that anthroposophy is so much foolish, unscientific rubbish. Nevertheless they send their children to the Waldorf School. They even discover that the Waldorf School suits their children admirably. Recently two such people visited the Waldorf School and said—But this Waldorf School is really good, we notice this in our children; but what a pity that it is based on “Theosophy.” Now the Waldorf School would not be there at all if anthroposophy were not there. So, you see, the judgment of many people amounts to this: It is as if one would say: That is an excellent dancer; the only pity is that he must stand on two legs. Such is the logic of opponents. One cannot do otherwise than say that the Waldorf School is good, for nothing whatever in this school is planned in order to make it a school with a definite “world-conception.” In regard to religious instruction, the Catholic children are taught by a Catholic priest, the evangelical children by an evangelical clergyman; and only because in Germany there are a great many non-churchmen who belong to no religious community, are we obliged to arrange for a free religion lesson. Otherwise these children would have had no religious teaching at all. I have great difficulty in finding teachers for these free religion lessons, for they are over-full. There is no inducement whatever to persuade the children to come, for we only want to be a modern school. All we want is to have practical and fundamental principles for the instruction and education. We have no wish to introduce anthroposophy into the school, for we are no sect; what we are concerned with is universally human. We cannot however prevent children from leaving the evangelical and Catholic religion lessons and coming to the free religion lesson. It is not our fault, but they come. And so we have ever and again to see to it that this free religion lesson is continued.
The Waldorf School is growing, step by step. It now has about 800 children and between 40 and 50 teachers. Its growth is well in hand—not so its finances. The financial situation is very precarious. Less than six weeks ago there was no means of knowing whether the financial position would allow the Waldorf School to exist beyond 15th June. Here we have an example which shows clearly how difficult it is today for an undertaking to hold its own in the face of the terrible state of economic affairs in Central Europe, even though it has proved beyond any manner of doubt the spiritual justification for its existence. Again and again, every month, we experience the utmost anxiety as to how we are to make the existence of the Waldorf School economically possible. Destiny allows us to work, but in such a way that the Sword of Damocles—financial need—is always hanging over our heads. As a matter of principle we must continue to work, as if the Waldorf School were established for eternity. This certainly demands a very pronounced devotion on the part of the teaching staff, who work with inner intensity without any chance of knowing whether in three months time they will be unemployed.
Nevertheless anthroposophical education has grown out of the Anthroposophical Society. What has been least sought for is what prospers best. In other words, what the gods have given, not what men have made, is most blessed with good fortune. It is quite comprehensible that the art of education is something which perforce lies especially close to the hearts of anthroposophists. For what is really the most inwardly beautiful thing in the world? Surely it is the growing, developing human being. To see this human being from the spiritual worlds enter into the physical world through birth to observe how what lives in him, what he has carried down in definite form is gradually becoming more and more defined in his features and movements, to behold in the right way divine forces, divine manifestations working through the human form into the physical world—all this has something about it which in the deepest sense we may call religious. No wonder therefore that, wherever there is the striving towards the purest, truest, most intimate humanity, such a striving as exists as the very foundation of anything anthroposophical, one contemplates the riddle of the growing human being with sacred, religious fervour and brings towards it all the work of which one is capable.
That is something which, arising out of the deepest impulses of the soul, calls forth within the anthroposophical movement enthusiasm for the art of education. So one may truly say: The art of education stands within the anthroposophical movement as a creation which can be nurtured in no other way than with love. It is so nurtured. It is indeed nurtured with the most devoted love. And so many venture to say further that the Waldorf School is taken to the heart of all who know it, and what thrives there, thrives in a way that must be looked upon as an inner necessity. In this connection I should like to mention two facts.
Not so very long ago a conference of the Anthroposophical Society was held in Stuttgart. During this conference the most varied wishes were put forward coming from very different sides. Proposals were made as to what might be done in one or other sphere of work. And just as today other people in the world are very clever, so naturally anthroposophists are clever too; they frequently participate in the cleverness of the world. Thus it came about that a number of suggestions were interpolated into the conference. One in particular was very interesting. It was put forward by pupils who were in the top class of the Waldorf School and it was a real appeal to the Anthroposophical Society. The appeal was signed by all the pupils of the 12th Class and had more or less the following content: We are now being educated in the Waldorf School in a genuine, human way; we dread having to enter an ordinary university or college. Could not the Anthroposophical Society also create an anthroposophical university? For we should like to enter a university in which our education could be as natural and human as it is now in the Waldorf School.—The suggestion thrown into the meeting stirred the idealism of the members and as a result the decision was actually taken to found an anthroposophical university. A considerable sum of money was collected, but then, in the time of inflation, millions of marks melted away into pfennigs. Nevertheless there were people who believed that it might be possible to do something of the kind and to do it before the Anthroposophical Society had become strong enough to form and give out judgments. Well, we might certainly be able to train doctors, theologians and so on, but what would they be able to do after their training? They would receive no recognition. In spite of this, what was felt by these childlike hearts provides an interesting testimony to the inner necessity of such education. It was by no means unnatural that such a suggestion was put forward. But, to continue the story, when our pupils entered the top class for the first time we were obliged to take the following measures. We had been able to give the young people only what constituted a living culture, but now they had to find access to the dead culture essential to the Abitur examination.2The German matriculation. We had therefore to plan the time-table for the top class in such a way that our pupils could take the Abitur. This cut right across our own curriculum and in our teachers' meetings we found it extraordinarily difficult to reconcile ourselves to putting the examination work as the focal point of the curriculum during the final year of this class. Nevertheless we did this. I had a far from easy time when I visited the class, for on the one hand the pupils were yawning because they had to learn what they must know later for the examination, and on the other hand their teachers often wanted to fit in other things which were not necessary for the examination but which the pupils wanted to know. They had always to be reminded: But you must not say that at the examination. This was a real difficulty. And then came the examination. The results were passable. However, in the college of teachers and in the teachers' meetings we were—pardon the expression—thoroughly fed up. We said: We have already established the Waldorf School; and now, when we should crown our work during the last school year, we are unable to carry out our intentions and do what the school requires of us. And so, there and then, in spite of everything, we resolved to carry through the curriculum strictly to the end of the final school year, to the end of the 12th class, and moreover to suggest to the parents and pupils that we should add yet another year, so that the examination could be taken then. The pupils accepted this with the greatest willingness for they saw it as a way out which would ensure the realisation of the intentions of the Waldorf School. We experienced no opposition whatever. There was only one request which was that Waldorf School teachers should undertake the coaching for the examination.
You see how difficult it is actually to establish within present day so-called reality something originating purely out of a knowledge of man. Only those who live in a world of fantasy could fail to see that one has perforce to deal with things as they are, and that this gives rise to immense difficulties. And so we have on the one hand the art of education within the anthroposophical movement, something which is loved quite as a matter of course. On the other hand we have to recognise that the anthroposophical movement as it exists in the social order of today is confronted with formidable difficulties when it endeavours to bring about, precisely in the beloved sphere of education, those things of which it perceives the deep inner necessity. We must look reality in the face in a living way. Do not think that it would occur to me for a single moment to ridicule those who out of inner conviction are inclined to say: Well, really, things are not so bad; too much is made of it all, for other schools get on quite all right. No, that is not the point! I know very well how much work and effort and even spirit are to be found in the schools of today. I fully recognise this. But unfortunately human beings today do not look ahead in their thinking. They do not see the threads connecting education, as it has become in the last few centuries, with what is approaching us with all the violence of a storm, threatening to ravage and lay waste our social life. Anthroposophy knows what are the conditions essential to the development of culture in the future; this alone compels us to work out such methods as you will find in our education. Our concern is to provide humanity with the possibility of progress, to save it from retrogression.
I have described on the one hand how the art of education stands within the anthroposophical movement, but how, on the other hand, through the fact that this art of education is centred in the anthroposophical movement, that movement is itself faced with great difficulties in the public life of today.
When therefore it so happens that to an ever increasing extent a larger circle of people, as has been the case here, come together who are desirous of hearing what anthroposophy has to say on the subject of education, one is thankful to the genius of our time that it is possible to speak about what lies so closely to one's heart. In this particular course of lectures I was only able to give a stimulus, to make certain suggestions. But when one comes down to rock bottom, not all that much has been achieved; for our anthroposophical education rests on actual teaching practice. It only lives when it is carried out; for it intends nothing more nor less than life itself. In actual fact it cannot truly be described, it must be experienced. This is why when one tries to stimulate interest in what must necessarily be led over into life, one has to make use of every possible art of speech in order to show how in the anthroposophical art of education we have the will to work out of the fullness of life. Maybe I have succeeded but ill in this course, but I have tried. And so you see how our education has grown out of anthroposophy in accordance with destiny.
Many people are still living in anthroposophy in such a way that they want to have it only as a world conception for heart and soul, and they look askance at anthroposophy when it widens its sphere of activity to include art, medicine, education and so on. But it cannot be otherwise, for anthroposophy demands life. It must work out of life and it must work into life. And if these lectures on the art of education have succeeded in showing to some small extent that anthroposophy is in no way sectarian or woven out of fantasy, but is something which is intended to stand before the world with the cool reasonableness of mathematics (albeit, as soon as one enters into the spiritual, mathematical coolness engenders enthusiasm, for enthusiasm is a word that is connected with spirit [The German words for enthusiasm and spirit are Geist and Begeisterung.] and one cannot help becoming enthusiastic, even if one is quite cool in the mathematical sense, when one has to speak and act out of the spirit)—even if anthroposophy is still looked upon today as an absurd fantasy, it will gradually be borne in on people that it is based on absolutely real foundations and strives in the widest sense of the words to embody and practise life. And possibly this can be demonstrated best of all today in the sphere of education.
If it has been possible to give some of those who have been present here a few stimulating ideas, then I am content. And our work together will have its best result if all those who have been a little stirred, a little stimulated, find in their common striving a way to continue in the practice of life what these lectures were intended to inspire.
Zehnter Vortrag
Meine sehr verehrten Anwesenden, zuerst lassen Sie mich, da ich jetzt diese Schlußworte für den pädagogischen Kursus sprechen darf, meine wirklich tiefe Befriedigung darüber ausdrücken, daß unsere Freunde in Holland, die sich die Pflege der anthroposophischen Weltanschauung zur Aufgabe gesetzt haben, diesen Kursus haben veranstalten wollen. Denn die Veranstaltung eines solchen Kursus bedeutet ja für die Veranstalter immer ein großes, schweres Stück Arbeit. Und am besten wissen wir selber, die wir manches in Dornach zu veranstalten haben, was es heißt, bei solchen Gelegenheiten hinter den Kulissen arbeiten zu müssen, wieviel Anstrengungen dazu notwendig sind. Daher werden Sie es ganz begreiflich finden, wenn ich jetzt vor meiner Abreise von Holland denjenigen, die zusammengewirkt haben, um diese ganze Tagung zustande zu bringen, meinen allerherzlichsten Dank sage. Es ist ein pädagogischer Kursus zustande gekommen, und ich darf vielleicht in diesen Schlußworten einiges sprechen über die Stellung der pädagogischen Kunst innerhalb der ganzen anthroposophischen Bewegung.
Es ist pädagogische Kunst innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung gewachsen, man möchte sagen wie etwas, das nicht durch eine abstrakte Absicht in diese Bewegung hineingekommen ist, sondern das mit einer gewissen Notwendigkeit sich aus der Bewegung heraus ergeben hat. So natürlich und selbstverständlich, wie die pädagogische Kunst, ist eigentlich weniges aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung bis jetzt herausgewachsen. In dieser selbstverständlichen Art herausgewachsen aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung ist lediglich die Eurythmie durch Frau Dr. Steiner, das Medizinische durch Frau Dr. Wegman, und eben die pädagogische Kunst selber, von der ich sagen darf, daß sie eben schicksalsmäßig sich aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung heraus ergeben hat, wie die beiden andern Dinge, man darf sagen, karmisch sich ergeben haben. Denn die anthroposophische Bewegung als solche ist ja selbstverständlich der Ausdruck von etwas, das einem menschlichen Streben entspricht, weil es eine Menschheit auf der Erde gegeben hat.
Wir brauchen nur in der Entwickelung der Menschheit zurück zuschauen auf diejenigen alten Zeiten, in denen sich Mysterienstätten da und dort gefunden haben, in denen Religion, Kunst und Wissenschaft aus den Erfahrungen des Geistes heraus gepflegt worden sind, und wir werden gewahr, wie in jenen alten, ehrwürdigen Stätten die Menschen sozusagen mit den Wesen der übersinnlichen Welt verkehrt haben, um spirituelles Leben in das äußere physische Leben hineinzutragen. Wir können in der Entwickelungsgeschichte der Menschheit weiterschreiten, und immer wieder und wieder finden wir den Drang, zu dem, was der Mensch mit seinen Sinnen wahrnehmen kann, das hinzuzufügen, was Übersinnliches ist. Das ist gewissermaßen diejenige Perspektive, die sich eröffnet, wenn wir die Entwickelungsgeschichte der Menschheit durchstreifen und sehen, wie das, was heute in der Anthroposophie lebt, ein Ewiges im menschlichen Streben ist. Aber als Anthroposophie lebt es eben aus den Sehnsuchten, aus den Bestrebungen der Herzen und der Seelen der Menschen der Gegenwart heraus. Und es darf schon gesagt werden: Um die Wende des 19. zum 20. Jahrhundert ist es möglich geworden, wenn man nur will, Offenbarungen aus der geistigen Welt heraus zu empfangen, die wiederum die ganze Weltanschauung der Menschheit vertiefen werden.
Diese Offenbarungen aus der geistigen Welt, die heute anders dastehen müssen als die alten Mysterienwahrheiten, die heute im Einklange stehen müssen mit dem, was der Mensch als Wissenschaft kennt, diese Offenbarungen bilden den Inhalt der Anthroposophie. Und wer sie kennt, der weiß, daß aus den Bedingungen unseres gegenwärtigen Zeitalters heraus viel, viel mehr Menschen zur Anthroposophie kommen würden, wenn nicht durch die ungeheuren Vorurteile und namentlich Vorempfindungen sich viele Menschen die Wege zur Anthroposophie verlegen würden. Aber das sind Dinge, die überwunden werden müssen. Aus dem kleinen Kreise der Anthroposophen wird immer mehr und mehr ein größerer Kreis werden müssen. Und wenn man an alles das denkt, was da wirkt und lebt, so darf man sich vielleicht gerade — ohne irgendwie behaupten zu wollen, daß Anthroposophie für sich eine religiöse Bewegung ist — ein Bild vorhalten von einem tief ins Herz einschneidenden geschichtlichen Vorgang.
Stellen Sie sich vor, das Mysterium von Golgatha hat stattgefunden. Hundert Jahre noch nach dem Mysterium von Golgatha schreibt der brillanteste römische Schriftsteller, Tacitus, von dem Christus so, wie von einem fast Unbekannten, der drüben in Asien den Tod gefunden hat. Da, wo römische Bildung ist, wo damals tonangebendes römisches Geistes- und Kulturleben ist, da lebt man in den Traditionen der letzten Jahrtausende, da weiß man nichts vom Christus. Und man kann geradezu wörtlich sich ein bedeutsames Faktum ausmalen: Da oben ist die römische Zivilisation, in den Arenen, in mächtigen Aufführungen, in alledem, was da im römischen sozialen Leben, im römischen Staatsleben stattfindet. Unten, unter der Erde, sind diejenigen Räumlichkeiten, die als Katakomben eben da sind; da versammeln sich schon viele Menschen — viele Menschen bei den Gräbern derjenigen, die auch dem Mysterium von Golgatha angehangen haben, wie sie selber. Das müssen diese Menschen geheimhalten. Höchstens manchmal taucht das, was da unten unter der Erde lebt, dadurch oben auf der Oberfläche auf, daß eben in der Arena ein Christ mit Pech beschmiert und verbrannt wird, zur Schaustellung derer, die die Gebildeten sind. So haben wir da zwei Welten: oben die alte, den glänzendsten Traditionen des römischen Zivilisationslebens entsprechende; unten haben wir das, was im geheimen unter der Erde sich entfaltet. Nehmen wir den glänzendsten Schriftsteller dieser Zeit, er hätte schreiben können, was er nur wie eine kurze Notiz über die Entstehung des Christentums in seine Notizen hineingeschrieben hat, indem er in Rom seinen Schreibtisch über einer Katakombe gehabt hätte - er hätte nichts zu wissen brauchen von dem, was da unten geschieht!
Nehmen wir die Zeit einige Jahrhunderte später. Was damals in Rom so glänzend sich ausgebreitet hatte, ist jetzt verschwunden; über die Oberfläche der Erde ist die christliche Zivilisation aufgetaucht, da, wo vordem römische Bildung war. Das Christentum beginnt sich in Europa auszubreiten. Wenn man sich ein solches Bild vor Augen hält, sieht man, wie die Dinge eigentlich in der Menschheitsentwickelung vor sich gehen. Und oft, wenn man die gegenwärtige Zeit ins Auge faßt, kann man sich etwa sagen: Die Anthroposophen - zwar graben sie sich heute nicht in die Erde hinein; das ist heute nicht üblich, sonst würden sie es schon tun müssen; sie finden sich in zwar äußerlich so glänzenden, schönen Räumlichkeiten, wie es hier der Fall ist, aber, fragen Sie nach, ob diejenigen Menschen, die heute draußen die übliche Zivilisation die ihrige nennen, von dem, was hier vorgeht, mehr wissen, als die Römer gewußt haben von dem, was unten in den Katakomben Roms vor sich gegangen ist. Man kann nicht mehr so wörtlich sprechen; die Situation ist mehr ins Geistige übertragen, aber doch sonst dieselbe. Und wenn man dann in Gedanken ein paar Jahrhunderte weiterdenkt, so darf man, wenn auch sonst nichts, doch die mutvolle Hoffnung haben, daß das Bild sich verändern könnte. Zwar werden diejenigen, die heute so wenig von der Anthroposophie wissen, wie die Römer vom Christentum gewußt haben, das alles sehr phantastisch finden; aber niemand kann in der Welt wirken, der nicht mutvoll auf den sich vor ihm eröffnenden Weg hinschauen kann. Und die Anthroposophen möchten mutvoll auf den sich vor ihnen eröffnenden Weg hinschauen. Deshalb steigen solche Bilder auf.
Allerdings muß man auch manchmal wiederum auf das hinschauen, was alles heute über Anthroposophie geurteilt wird. Es ist ja nach und nach so gekommen, daß kaum eine Woche vergeht, ohne daß irgendein gegnerisches Buch über Anthroposophie erscheint. Die Gegner nehmen Anthroposophie sehr ernst. Sie widerlegen sie alle acht Tage einmal, zwar nicht so sehr von verschiedenen Standpunkten aus, denn sie sind nicht sehr erfinderisch, aber sie widerlegen sie. Ja, interessant ist es, wie man nach dieser Richtung hin Anthroposophie behandelt. Da findet man sehr gelehrte Leute, oder Leute, die Verantwortlichkeitsgefühl haben sollten, auf irgendeinem Gebiete Bücher schreiben. Sie führen dann an, was sie über Anthroposophie gelesen haben: kein einziges Buch ist oftmals darunter, das von Anthroposophen selber herrührt, sondern aus lauter gegnerischen Werken unterrichten sie sich.
Es hat zum Beispiel einmal eine Gnosis gegeben, von der eigentlich, außer der schwer verständlichen und wenig enthaltenden Pistis-Sophia-Schrift kaum etwas existiert. Alle die, welche heute über die Gnosis schreiben oder, da zur Zeit dieses Gebiet eine bedeutsame Rolle spielt, über sie urteilen, kennen die Gnosis wenig; sie glauben, daß sie etwas über die Gnosis erklären, wenn sie sagen, daß sie aus dem Griechentum hervorgegangen ist. Ich muß oft denken, wie es wäre, wenn das in bezug auf die Anthroposophie ebenso ginge, wenn sie nur durch die Gegner bekannt würde, und wenn es ginge, was manchmal viele wünschen, daß alle anthroposophischen Schriften verbrannt würden; dann würde man Anthroposophie so kennen, wie man heute die Gnosis kennt. Aber interessant ist es, daß heute von der Anthroposophie sehr viele Leute sagen, sie sei eine aufgewärmte Gnosis. Sie kennen die Anthroposophie nicht, weil sie sie nicht erkennen wollen, und sie kennen die Gnosis nicht, weil sie sie nicht erkennen können, denn es ist kein äußeres Dokument über sie da. Aber die Leute reden so. Es ist eine negative Instanz, die auch nach einer bestimmten Richtung deuten kann. Sie kann allerdings nur dahin deuten, daß der Mut und die Kraft da sein müssen, damit es der Anthroposophie einmal nicht so gehe, wie es der Gnosis geht, sondern daß es ihr so gehen möge, daß sie ihre Wirksamkeit entfalten kann. Wenn man das sieht, schaut man immer mit einer gewissen starken Befriedigung auf alle die Einzelunternehmungen hin, die so zustande kommen wie diese Tagung hier; denn aus solchen Dingen setzt sich dann das zusammen, was machen soll, daß Anthroposophie kräftig weiter wirkt. Anthroposophie hat ja nur, ich möchte sagen, durch kleine Fensterchen in diesen pädagogischen Kurs hineingeblickt. Auf manches ist hingewiesen worden, was zeigen konnte, wie Anthroposophie auf die Wirklichkeit geht, wie sie wirklich hineinschaut in das unmittelbar praktische Leben. Weil alles, was wirklich ist, auch durchgeistigt ist, kann man die Wirklichkeit nur erkennen, wenn man einen Blick für das Geistige hat. Aber es konnte doch nicht über Anthroposophie im eigentlichen Sinne hier gesprochen werden. Auf der andern Seite konnte jedoch gerade über ein Gebiet eben gesprochen werden, wo Anthroposophie fruchtbar werden kann: über das pädagogische Gebiet.
Auf dem Gebiete der Eurythmie zum Beispiel hat wirklich mehr oder weniger das Schicksal gesprochen. Heute könnte jemand die Sache so anschauen, als ob eines Tages der Gedanke gekommen wäre, es müsse eine Eurythmie geben. Das war nicht der Fall, sondern es war eine Familie da, die den Vater verloren hatte. Eine Anzahl Kinder waren da, und die Mutter hatte Sorgen, wie sie die Kinder versorgen würde. Es sollte aus den Kindern etwas werden. Damals war die anthroposophische Bewegung noch klein. Es trat an mich die Frage heran, was aus den Kindern werden könnte. Da hat man in diesem Zusammenhange die ersten Schritte getan, um zu etwas Eurythmischem zu kommen. Im allerengsten Sinne hat man das getan. So waren denn die ersten eurythmischen Anweisungen da. Das Schicksal hatte gesprochen: Es war herausgekommen aus dem, daß es eine Anthroposophie gab, und daß jemand innerhalb des anthroposophischen Bodens einen Lebensberuf gesucht hat. Und bald darauf, es hat gar nicht lange gedauert, da wurden die ersten, die damals Eurythmie gelernt haben, Lehrerinnen und haben sie weiterverbreitet. Und so ist die Eurythmie — Frau Dr. Steiner hat sich ihrer angenommen — das geworden, was sie heute ist. Da kann man schon zu dem Urteil kommen: man hat die Eurythmie nicht gesucht — die Eurythmie hat die Anthroposophie gesucht.
Und nehmen Sie das Medizinische. Frau Dr. Wegman ist so lange Mitglied der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft, als die Gesellschaft eigentlich besteht. Sie hat aus ihren heilkünstlerischen Anfängen heraus die Tendenz bekommen, innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung medizinisch zu wirken. Sie hat sich als echte Anthroposophin dem Medizinischen zugewendet. So ist wiederum das Medizinische herausgewachsen aus dem Anthroposophischen und steht deshalb nur heute so darinnen, weil gerade dieses Herauswachsen durch eine Persönlichkeit so gekommen ist.
Und weiter. Als die Wogen des Weltkrieges verbrandet waren, da dachten Menschen an alles mögliche: Jetzt müsse einmal etwas ganz Großes kommen; jetzt müßten die Menschen, weil sie so viel Elend erfahren haben, den Mut bekommen, etwas ganz Großes zu tun, sich ganz umzukrempeln. Riesenideale wurden gefaßt. Alle Schriftsteller, die sonst etwas anderes geschrieben haben, schrieben über die «Zukunft des Staates» oder über die «Zukunft der sozialen Ordnung» und so weiter. Alles wendete sich dem Gedanken zu, was nun aus dem Menschen werden sollte. Es ist auch auf anthroposophischem Boden viel von dieser Sache heraufgekommen und wieder verschwunden. Nur auf dem Gebiete der Pädagogik war bis dahin eigentlich wenig vorhanden. Mein kleines Schriftchen «Die Erziehung des Kindes vom Gesichtspunkte der Geisteswissenschaft», das ziemlich im Anfange der anthroposophischen Bewegung entstand, war da, mit allerlei Anweisungen, aber eigentlich ein ganzes System der Pädagogik schon enthaltend. Es wurde nicht besonders als etwas anderes genommen, als daß die Mütter ihre Kinder im Sinne dieses Büchelchens erziehen wollten. Man wurde immer wieder gefragt: Soll man dieses Kind blau anziehen, soll man jenes rot anziehen; soll man diesem eine gelbe Bettdecke geben, jenem eine rote? -— Man wurde auch gefragt, was das eine Kind essen solle und so weiter. Ein schönes Bestreben in pädagogischer Beziehung, aber es ging nicht besonders weit.
Da wuchs aus all diesen verwirrenden Idealen in Stuttgart bei Emil Molt die Idee heraus, für die Kinder, die den Arbeitern der WaldorfAstoria-Zigarettenfabrik entstammten, eine Schule zu begründen. Und Emil Molt, der ja auch hier ist, hatte den Einfall, mir die Leitung dieser Schule zu übergeben. Da konnte sie nicht anders werden als anthroposophisch. Das war das Gegebene. Das Schicksal konnte es eben nicht anders machen. Mit 150 Kindern, die der Waldorf-Astoria-Fabrik entstammten, wurde die Schule begründet. Sie wurde mit Lehrern versehen, die aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung herausgeholt wurden. Durch das württembergische Schulgesetz war es möglich, die, welche man für geeignet hielt, als Lehrer aufzustellen; denn man machte keine andere Bedingung, als daß die, welche Lehrer werden sollten, nachweisen sollten, daß sie im allgemeinen zu so etwas taugen. Es war das alles noch vor der großen Befreiung der Menschheit durch die weimarische Nationalversammlung. Seit jener Zeit hätte man nicht mehr in dieser freien Weise vorgehen können. Aber so konnte man einmal anfangen, und es wird ja möglich sein, wenigstens durch ein paar Jahre auch die unteren Klassen zu haben.
Ja, da kam die Anthroposophie über die Schule; man könnte auch sagen, die Schule über die Anthroposophie. Und in wenigen Jahren wuchs diese Schule so, daß sie nun Kinder aus allen Ständen hat, Kinder auch aller Klassen; alle möglichen Leute möchtern gern ihre Kinder in die Waldorfschule hineinbringen, Anthroposophen und Nichtanthroposophen. Merk würdige Ansichten entwickeln da dieLeute. Den Eltern sind ja natürlich ihre Kinder das Allerliebste, und sie wollen sie selbstverständlich in eine ausgezeichnete Schule schicken. Da kann man zum Beispiel folgendes erleben. Es leben in Stuttgart Gegner der Anthroposophie, heftige Gegner, Gegner aus Begründung heraus, denn es sind wissenschaftliche Gegner, und die wissen, daß Anthroposophie so ein dummes, unwissenschaftliches Zeug ist: sie schicken ihre Kinder in die Waldorfschule. Sie finden sogar, daß die Waldorfschule für ihre Kinder ausgezeichnet ist. Kürzlich einmal besuchten zwei solcher Leute die Waldorfschule und sagten: Aber diese Waldorfschule ist doch wirklich gut, wir merken es an unseren Kindern; schade nur, daß sie von der Theosophie aus begründet worden ist. - Nun wäre die ganze Waldorfschule nicht da, wenn nicht die Anthroposophie da wäre. Aber Sie sehen, das Urteil mancher Menschen ist so, wie wenn man sagen würde: Das ist ein ausgezeichneter Tänzer, schade nur, daß er auf zwei Beinen stehen muß. — So ist die Logik der Gegner. Man kann gar nicht anders, als sagen, die Waldorfschule ist gut; denn alles, was in dieser Schule ist, ist nicht etwa daraufhin angelegt, sie zu einer Weltanschauungsschule zu machen. Denn mit Bezug auf den Religionsunterricht zum Beispiel halten wir es so, daß die katholischen Kinder von dem katholischen Pfarrer unterrichtet werden, die evangelischen Kinder von dem evangelischen; und nur, weil es in Deutschland eine große Anzahl Dissidentenkinder gibt, die keiner Religionsgemeinschaft angehören, mußten wir, weil diese Kinder sonst ohne einen Religionsunterricht geblieben wären, für sie einen freien Religionsunterricht einrichten. Ich kann dafür sehr schwer Lehrer finden, denn dieser freie Religionsunterricht ist überfüllt; man veranlaßt auch kein Kind, dahinein zu kommen, denn wir wollen nur eine moderne Schule sein. Wir wollen nur praktische Grundsätze für den Unterricht und die Erziehung haben. Wir wollen nicht Anthroposophie in die Schule hineintragen, weil wir keine Sekte sind, weil wir das ganz Allgemein-Menschliche wollen. Aber wir können gar nichts dafür, die Kinder laufen aus dem evangelischen und dem katholischen Religionsunterricht fort und kommen in unseren freien hinein. Es ist nicht unsere Schuld, aber sie kommen. Und so muß immer von neuem dafür gesorgt werden, daß gerade dieser freie Religionsunterricht immer weiterkommt.
Und so wächst uns nach und nach die Waldorfschule - sie hat jetzt etwa 800 Kinder mit 40 bis 50 Lehrkräften — zwar nicht über den Kopf, aber über die Kasse. Sie ist heute in finanzieller Beziehung wirklich in großer Not. Und es ist noch nicht 6 Wochen her, da konnte man noch nicht wissen, ob über den 15. Juni hinaus die Waldorfschule noch die Möglichkeit hat, überhaupt finanziell zu bestehen. Wir haben an . ihr gerade ein Beispiel, wie schwer es heute ist, mit dem, was sich in so eminentem Sinne als geistig berechtigt erzeigt, durchzukommen gegenüber den furchtbaren wirtschaftlichen Verhältnissen, die namentlich in Mitteleuropa herrschen. Und wir haben immer wieder und wieder, jeden Monat, die heftigste Sorge gerade für die wirtschaftliche Existenz der Waldorfschule. Das Schicksal läßt uns so arbeiten, daß über uns immer, wie ein Damoklesschwert, die finanzielle Not hängt. Aber wir müssen aus dem Prinzip heraus arbeiten, wie wenn die Waldorfschule für die Ewigkeit begründet wäre. Es erfordert sogar eine sehr starke Hingabe von seiten der Lehrerschaft, die gar nicht wissen kann, ob sie nicht nach drei Monaten auf der Straße liegen wird, so mit aller inneren Intensität zu arbeiten.
Aber es ist eben anthroposophische Pädagogik auch da schicksalsgemäß aus der anthroposophischen Bewegung herausgewachsen. Gerade das, was wir innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung am wenigsten gesucht haben, das gedeiht am allerbesten. Ich möchte sagen: Was uns die Götter gegeben haben, nicht das, was von Menschen gemacht worden ist, das gedeiht am besten. Und begreiflich wird es sein, daß gerade so etwas wie die pädagogische Kunst dem Anthroposophen besonders ans Herz gewachsen sein muß. Denn, was ist eigentlich das innerlich Schönste auf der Welt? Es ist doch der werdende Mensch. Diesen Menschen aus den geistigen Welten in der physischen Welt durch die Geburt ankommen zu sehen, wie er in der unbestimmten Weise das, was in ihm lebt, heruntergetragen hat, wie immer bestimmter und bestimmter das wird, was in den Zügen, in den Bewegungen liegt; dieses Hereinwirken göttlicher Kräfte, göttlicher Offenbarungen durch die Menschengestalt in die physische Welt, das in der richtigen Weise anzuschauen, hat etwas allertiefst Religiöses. Kein Wunder daher, daß da, wo man echteste, wahrste, intimste Menschlichkeit will, wie auf anthroposophischem Boden, man gerade das Rätsel des heranwachsenden Menschen mit heiliger, religiöser Inbrunst betrachtet und ihm mit all der Arbeit, die man leistet, entgegenkommen möchte.
Das ist etwas, was aus den tiefsten Seelenregungen heraus die Begeisterung gibt für die pädagogische Kunst innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung. Daher darf man schon sagen: So steht die pädagogische Kunst innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung drinnen wie ein Gebilde, das gar nicht anders gepflegt werden kann innerhalb dieser Bewegung als mit der hingebendsten Liebe. - Und so wird sie gepflegt. Sie wird mit der hingebendsten Liebe gepflegt. Deshalb darf man auch sagen, die Waldorfschule ist schon allen denjenigen, die sie kennen, ans Herz gewachsen; und alles, was da gedeiht, das gedeiht in einer Weise, daß man eine innere Notwendigkeit sieht. Da möchte ich auf zwei Tatsachen hinweisen.
Vor einiger Zeit, es ist noch nicht lange her, fand in Stuttgart eine Tagung der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft statt. Dabei wurden von den verschiedensten Seiten her die verschiedensten Wünsche vorgebracht, was man auf diesem, was man auf jenem Gebiete tun solle. Und da andere Menschen heute so gescheit sind in der Welt, so sind natürlich auch die Anthroposophen gescheit; sie nehmen manchmal teil an der Gescheitheit der Welt. So war manche Interpellation eingebracht worden, Aber eine war doch interessant, sie kam von denjenigen, die gerade in der letzten Klasse der Waldorfschule waren; eine richtige Interpellation an die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft. Sie war von allen Schülern der 12. Klasse unterschrieben und hatte etwa den folgenden Inhalt: Wir sind jetzt in der Waldorfschule so erzogen, daß dies die echte menschliche Erziehung ist; jetzt graut uns davor, nun in eine gewöhnliche Hochschule hineinzukommen. Könnte die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft nicht auch eine anthroposophische Hochschule machen? Denn wir möchten in eine Hochschule kommen, wo wir ebenso naturgemäß erzogen werden wie jetzt in der Waldorfschule. - Diese Interpellation hat damals in jener Versammlung idealistisch gewirkt, und die Menschen haben sogar den Beschluß gefaßt, eine anthroposophische Hochschule zu errichten. Es ist auch einiges Geld zusammengekommen, das dann in der Inflationszeit von Millionen Mark auf Pfennige zusammengeschmolzen ist. Aber es hat Leute gegeben, die glaubten, man könne so etwas tun - so etwas tun, bevor die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft so mächtig geworden ist, daß sie Urteile abgibt. Wir könnten ja gut Mediziner, Theologen und so weiter ausbilden, aber was sollen denn diese dann machen? Kein Mensch erkennt sie an. Aber es ist doch ein ganz interessantes Zeugnis, das da die innere Notwendigkeit zeigt, die von den kindlichen Herzen schon gefühlt wird. Es war nicht unnaturgemäß, was in dieser Interpellation auftrat. - Aber weiter. Als unsere Schüler und Schülerinnen zum ersten Mal die letzte Klasse zu absolvieren hatten, waren wir zu folgendem genötigt. Damit die jungen Menschen nun den Anschluß finden an die tote Kultur — wir hatten ihnen nur lebendige Kultur geben können, nun mußten sie den Anschluß an die tote Kultur finden, das heißt, sie mußten ein Abiturientenexamen ablegen -, so mußten wir die letzte Klasse so gestalten, daß unsere Schüler und Schülerinnen das Abiturientenexamen ablegen konnten. Das hat aber unseren Lehrplan ganz durchkreuzt, und wir empfanden es in der Lehrerschaft als etwas ungeheuer Schwieriges, in der letzten Klasse so zu stehen, daß wir unseren ganzen Lehrplan auf die Examensarbeit hin einrichten mußten. Wir haben es getan. Wenn ich die Klasse besucht habe - es war mir wirklich gar nicht leicht, denn da gähnten die Schüler auf der einen Seite, weil sie lernen mußten, was sie im Examen später kennen mußten; auf der andern Seite wollte man dann manchmal etwas einfügen, was sie nicht zu kennen brauchten, aber was die Schüler wissen wollten. Da mußte man ihnen immer sagen: Das müßt Ihr aber nicht beim Examen sagen. Es ist schon eine Schwierigkeit. Und dann kam es zum Examen. Es ging leidlich ab. Aber wir hatten — verzeihen Sie, wenn ich das triviale Wort gebrauche - im Lehrerkollegium und in den Lehrerkonferenzen den Katzenjammer. Wir sagten uns: Nun haben wir die Waldorfschule eingerichtet; jetzt, wo wir sie krönen sollten durch das letzte Schuljahr, da können wir unsere Intentionen, das, was die Schule sein sollte, nicht durchführen. Und so haben wir dann trotz alledem den Beschluß gefaßt, bis zum letzten Schuljahre, bis zum Ende der 12.Klasse streng den Lehrplan durchzuführen und daneben den Eltern und Schülern den Vorschlag zu machen, nachher noch ein Jahr dranzustückeln, damit die Schüler dann ihr Examen machen können. Namentlich die Schüler und Schülerinnen unterziehen sich diesem mit der größten Hingabe, daß sie wirklich nun mit dem, was in der Waldorfschule intendiert, gewollt wird, auskommen wollen. Wir haben eigentlich keinen Widerspruch erfahren. Das einzige, worum wir gebeten worden sind, ist, daß nun Waldorfschullehrer diese Trainierung zum Examen vornehmen sollten.
Man sieht, wie schwierig es ist, etwas, was aus bloßer Menschenerkenntnis hervorgehen sollte, tatsächlich in die heutige sogenannte Wirklichkeit hineinzustellen. Wenn man kein Phantast ist, der das nicht einsieht, daß man mit der Wirklichkeit rechnen muß, dann hat man es erst ganz besonders schwer. Und so steht auf der einen Seite, ich möchte sagen als etwas, was selbstverständlich geliebt wird, die pädagogische Kunst innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung drinnen; so steht aber wiederum die anthroposophische Bewegung mit ungeheuren Schwierigkeiten in der allgemeinen heutigen sozialen Ordnung drinnen, wenn sie dasjenige verwirklichen will, gerade auf dem geliebten Gebiete der Pädagogik, wovon sie die innerste Notwendigkeit einsieht. Auch das muß lebensvoll ins Auge gefaßt werden. Denn glauben Sie nicht, daß es mir einen einzigen Augenblick einfällt, denjenigen zu belachen, der irgendwie innerlich sagt: Es ist doch nicht so schlimm; das alles ist doch eine Mache, denn es geht doch an andern Schulen auch ganz ordentlich zu. — Nein, darum handelt es sich nicht! Ich weiß schon, wieviel Arbeit und Mühe und auch Geist im heutigen Schulwesen drinnensteckt. Ich kann es durchaus einsehen. Aber die Menschen denken heute leider zu kurz. Man sieht nicht die Fäden zwischen dem, was Erziehung im Laufe der letzten Jahrhunderte geworden ist, und dem, was im sozialen Leben zerstörend, vernichtend, verheerend uns entgegenstürmt. Daß Anthroposophie weiß, welches die Bedingungen eines Kulturwachstums in die Zukunft hinein sind, dies allein zwingt sie, solche Methoden herauszuarbeiten, wie Sie sie auf pädagogischem Gebiete finden. Um die Menschheit handelt es sich, um die Möglichkeit, fortzuschreiten, nicht zurückzukommen.
Damit ist auf der einen Seite charakterisiert, wie pädagogische Kunst in der anthroposophischen Bewegung drinnensteht, wie aber auf der andern Seite gerade dadurch, daß sie diese pädagogische Kunst in ihrer Mitte hat, die anthroposophische Bewegung wiederum Schwierigkeiten hat in der Öffentlichkeit des heutigen Lebens. Wenn daher einmal das vorliegt, daß immer mehr und mehr sich ein größerer Kreis findet, wie es hier der Fall ist, der auf das hören will, was Anthroposophie auf dem Gebiete der Pädagogik zu sagen hat, dann ist man, ich möchte sagen, dem Zeitgenius dafür dankbar, daß es möglich ist, über etwas zu sprechen, was einem so sehr auf dem Herzen liegt. Man kann ja immer nur einige Anregungen geben. Besonders in diesem Kursus konnte ich nur einige Anregungen geben. Und im Grunde genommen ist mit diesem Anregungengeben auch nicht allzuviel getan, denn unsere anthroposophische Pädagogik ist Erzieher- und Unterrichtspraxis. Sie lebt erst, wenn sie ausgeführt wird; denn sie will nichts anderes sein als Leben. Sie will im Grunde genommen nicht bezeichnet werden, sondern sie will erlebt werden. Deshalb versucht man, wenn man die Absicht hat anzuregen, was ins Leben übergeführt werden soll, alle mögliche Sprachkunst aufzuwenden, um gerade zu zeigen, wie anthroposophische pädagogische Kunst lebensvoll wirken will. Gewiß, das mag mir vielleicht in diesem Kursus sehr schlecht gelungen sein; aber ich habe es versucht. Und so ist gerade das Pädagogische schicksalsgemäß aus dem Anthroposophischen herausgewachsen. Viele Menschen leben heute noch in dem Anthroposophischen so, daß sie nur eine Weltanschauung für ihr Herz, für ihre Seele haben wollen, so eine Art religiöser Vertiefung für die Seele, und sie sehen es mit scheelen Augen an, daß Anthroposophie nach den verschiedenen Gebieten, dem künstlerischen, medizinischen, pädagogischen und so weiter ihre Kreise zieht. Aber man kann nicht anders, denn Anthroposophie will Leben sein. Sie will aus dem Leben heraus wirken und wiederum in das Leben hinein. Und wenn es ein wenig gelungen ist, gerade mit diesen Vorträgen über pädagogische Kunst, zu zeigen, wie Anthroposophie keine sektiererische Phantastik ist, sondern etwas, was gewissermaßen mit mathematischer Nüchternheit auftreten möchte sobald man ins Geistige hineinkommt, wird eben die mathematische Nüchternheit begeistert, denn Begeisterung ist ein Wort, das mit Geist zusammenhängt, und man kann gar nicht anders, als begeistert zu werden, auch wenn man ganz mathematisch nüchtern ist, wenn man vom Geiste zu reden und zu handeln hat; wenn also Anthroposophie heute noch von manchen wie eine Schwärmerei angesehen wird — man wird schon sehen, daß sie durchaus auf realen Grundlagen fußt: sie will im weitesten Sinne des Wortes Lebenspraxis sein. Und das kann man vielleicht auf solchem Gebiete, wie dem pädagogischen, heute noch am allerbesten zeigen.
Ist es möglich gewesen, nach dieser Richtung hin mancher Seele, die hier war, einige Anregungen zu geben, so bin ich schon zufrieden. Und das beste Zusammenarbeiten wird sich dann ergeben, wenn im Zusammenwirken aller derer, die ein wenig angeregt worden sind, dasjenige eine lebenspraktische Fortsetzung findet, was diese Vorträge anregen wollten.
Tenth Lecture
Ladies and gentlemen, as I now have the opportunity to say a few closing words for this educational course, let me first express my deep satisfaction that our friends in Holland, who have set themselves the task of cultivating the anthroposophical worldview, have organized this course. For the organizers, putting on such a course always means a great deal of hard work. And we ourselves, who have to organize many things in Dornach, know best what it means to have to work behind the scenes on such occasions, how much effort is required. You will therefore understand if, before I leave Holland, I express my heartfelt thanks to all those who have worked together to make this conference possible. An educational course has been established, and in these closing words I would like to say a few words about the position of the art of education within the whole anthroposophical movement.
Pedagogical art has grown within the anthroposophical movement, one might say as something that did not enter this movement through an abstract intention, but rather arose from the movement itself with a certain necessity. Few things have grown out of the anthroposophical movement as naturally and self-evidently as pedagogical art. The only things that have grown out of the anthroposophical movement in this natural way are eurythmy by Dr. Steiner, medicine by Dr. Wegman, and pedagogical art itself, which I can say has emerged from the anthroposophical movement as if by fate, just as the other two things have emerged, one might say, karmically. For the anthroposophical movement as such is, of course, the expression of something that corresponds to a human striving, because there has been a humanity on earth.
We need only look back in the development of humanity to those ancient times when mystery centers were found here and there, where religion, art, and science were cultivated from the experiences of the spirit, and we become aware of how, in those ancient, venerable places, people communicated, so to speak, with the beings of the supersensible world in order to bring spiritual life into outer physical life. We can continue through the history of human development, and again and again we find the urge to add the supersensible to what human beings can perceive with their senses. This is, in a sense, the perspective that opens up when we roam through the history of human development and see how what lives in anthroposophy today is an eternal element in human striving. But as anthroposophy, it lives out of the longings, the aspirations of the hearts and souls of people today. And it can already be said that at the turn of the 19th to the 20th century, it became possible, if one so desires, to receive revelations from the spiritual world that will in turn deepen the entire worldview of humanity. These revelations from the spiritual world, which today must be different from the ancient mystery truths, which today must be in harmony with what human beings know as science, these revelations form the content of anthroposophy. And those who know them know that, given the conditions of our present age, many, many more people would come to anthroposophy if it were not for the enormous prejudices and, in particular, preconceptions that prevent many people from finding their way to anthroposophy. But these are things that must be overcome. The small circle of anthroposophists will increasingly have to become a larger circle. And when one thinks of all that is at work and alive there, one may perhaps — without in any way claiming that anthroposophy is a religious movement in itself — hold before one's eyes a picture of a historical event that cuts deep into the heart.
Imagine that the mystery of Golgotha has taken place. A hundred years after the mystery of Golgotha, the most brilliant Roman writer, Tacitus, writes of Christ as if he were an almost unknown figure who died over in Asia. Wherever there is Roman education, wherever Roman intellectual and cultural life sets the tone, people live in the traditions of the last millennia and know nothing of Christ. And one can literally imagine a significant fact: up there is Roman civilization, in the arenas, in powerful performances, in everything that takes place in Roman social life, in Roman state life. Below, underground, are the spaces that exist as catacombs; many people gather there—many people at the graves of those who, like themselves, have also adhered to the mystery of Golgotha. These people must keep this a secret. At most, what lives down there underground sometimes surfaces above ground when a Christian is smeared with pitch and burned in the arena, for the amusement of the educated. So we have two worlds: above, the old one, corresponding to the most brilliant traditions of Roman civilization; below, we have what unfolds in secret underground. Take the most brilliant writer of the time; he could have written what he wrote in his notes as a brief note on the origins of Christianity, having his desk above a catacomb in Rome – he would not have needed to know anything about what was happening down there!
Let us take the time a few centuries later. What had spread so brilliantly in Rome at that time has now disappeared; Christian civilization has emerged on the surface of the earth, where Roman education had previously been. Christianity is beginning to spread in Europe. If we keep this image in mind, we can see how things actually proceed in human development. And often, when we consider the present time, we can say to ourselves: The anthroposophists – they may not be digging themselves into the earth today; that is not customary today, otherwise they would have to do so; they may find themselves in outwardly splendid, beautiful premises, as is the case here, but ask yourself whether those people who today call the usual civilization their own know more about what is going on here than the Romans knew about what was going on down in the catacombs of Rome. One can no longer speak so literally; the situation has been transferred more into the spiritual realm, but it is still the same. And if one then thinks a few centuries ahead, one can at least have the courageous hope that the picture could change. Admittedly, those who know as little about anthroposophy today as the Romans knew about Christianity will find all this very fantastical; but no one can work in the world who cannot look courageously at the path opening up before them. And anthroposophists want to look courageously at the path opening up before them. That is why such images arise.
However, one must also sometimes look at what is being said about anthroposophy today. It has gradually come to pass that hardly a week goes by without some book appearing that is opposed to anthroposophy. Opponents take anthroposophy very seriously. They refute it every eight days, not so much from different points of view, because they are not very inventive, but they refute it. Yes, it is interesting how anthroposophy is treated in this way. There are very learned people, or people who should have a sense of responsibility, writing books in some field. They then cite what they have read about anthroposophy: often not a single book among them comes from anthroposophists themselves, but they educate themselves solely from opposing works.
For example, there was once a gnosis of which, apart from the difficult-to-understand and sparse Pistis Sophia text, hardly anything exists. All those who write about Gnosticism today, or who judge it because this field is currently playing a significant role, know little about Gnosticism; they believe that they are explaining something about Gnosticism when they say that it originated in Greek culture. I often think what it would be like if the same were true of anthroposophy, if it were known only through its opponents, and if what many sometimes wish for were to happen, that all anthroposophical writings were burned; then anthroposophy would be known as Gnosis is known today. But it is interesting that today many people say that anthroposophy is a rehashed Gnosis. They do not know anthroposophy because they do not want to recognize it, and they do not know Gnosis because they cannot recognize it, for there is no external document about it. But people talk like that. It is a negative instance that can also point in a certain direction. However, it can only point to the fact that courage and strength must be present so that anthroposophy does not end up like Gnosticism, but rather that it may develop its effectiveness. When one sees this, one always looks with a certain strong satisfaction at all the individual undertakings that come about, such as this conference here; for it is from such things that what is needed to ensure that anthroposophy continues to have a powerful effect is composed. Anthroposophy has, I might say, only looked into this educational course through small windows. Many things have been pointed out that show how anthroposophy relates to reality, how it really looks into immediate practical life. Because everything that is real is also spiritual, one can only recognize reality if one has an eye for the spiritual. But it was not possible to speak here about anthroposophy in the true sense. On the other hand, however, it was possible to talk about an area where anthroposophy can be fruitful: the field of education.
In the field of eurythmy, for example, fate really did more or less speak. Today, someone might look at the matter as if one day the idea had come up that there had to be eurythmy. That was not the case, but there was a family that had lost its father. There were a number of children, and the mother was worried about how she would provide for them. Something should become of the children. At that time, the anthroposophical movement was still small. The question arose for me as to what could become of the children. In this context, the first steps were taken to arrive at something eurythmic. This was done in the strictest sense. So the first eurythmic instructions were there. Fate had spoken: it had come out of the fact that there was anthroposophy and that someone within the anthroposophical field was looking for a life's work. And soon after, it didn't take long, the first people who learned eurythmy at that time became teachers and spread it further. And so eurythmy — Dr. Steiner took it up — became what it is today. One can already come to the conclusion that eurythmy was not sought — eurythmy sought anthroposophy.
And take medicine, for example. Dr. Wegman has been a member of the Anthroposophical Society for as long as the Society has existed. From her beginnings in healing arts, she developed a tendency to work medically within the anthroposophical movement. As a true anthroposophist, she turned to medicine. Thus, medicine grew out of anthroposophy and is only present in it today because this growth came about through a particular personality.
And further. When the waves of the world war had subsided, people thought of all kinds of things: now something really big had to happen; now that people had experienced so much misery, they would have the courage to do something really great, to completely transform themselves. Giant ideals were conceived. All writers who had previously written about other things wrote about the “future of the state” or the “future of the social order” and so on. Everything turned to the question of what would now become of humanity. Much of this has also arisen and disappeared again on anthroposophical ground. Only in the field of education was there actually little available until then. My little book “The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science,” which was written fairly early in the anthroposophical movement, was there, with all kinds of instructions, but actually already containing a whole system of education. It was not taken as anything other than mothers wanting to educate their children in accordance with this little book. People kept asking: Should this child be dressed in blue, should that one be dressed in red; should this one have a yellow bedspread, that one a red one? People were also asked what one child should eat and so on. It was a wonderful endeavor in terms of education, but it did not go very far.
Out of all these confusing ideals, Emil Molt in Stuttgart came up with the idea of founding a school for the children of the workers at the WaldorfAstoria cigarette factory. And Emil Molt, who is also here, had the idea of handing over the management of this school to me. It could not help but become anthroposophical. That was the given. Fate could not have done otherwise. The school was founded with 150 children from the Waldorf Astoria factory. It was staffed with teachers who were recruited from the anthroposophical movement. The Württemberg school law made it possible to appoint those who were considered suitable as teachers, because the only requirement was that those who were to become teachers had to prove that they were generally capable of doing so. All this took place before the great liberation of humanity by the Weimar National Assembly. Since that time, it would no longer have been possible to proceed in this free manner. But this made it possible to get started, and it will be possible to have the lower grades for at least a few years.
Yes, anthroposophy came to the school; one could also say that the school came to anthroposophy. And in just a few years, this school grew so much that it now has children from all walks of life, children from all classes; all kinds of people want to send their children to the Waldorf school, anthroposophists and non-anthroposophists alike. People develop remarkable views on this. Parents naturally love their children most of all, and of course they want to send them to an excellent school. For example, you might experience the following. There are opponents of anthroposophy in Stuttgart, fierce opponents, opponents for reasons of principle, because they are scientific opponents, and they know that anthroposophy is such stupid, unscientific stuff: they send their children to the Waldorf school. They even think that the Waldorf school is excellent for their children. Recently, two such people visited the Waldorf school and said: But this Waldorf school is really good, we can see that in our children; it's just a pity that it was founded on theosophy. – Well, the whole Waldorf school would not exist if it weren't for anthroposophy. But you see, some people's judgment is like saying, “He's an excellent dancer, it's just a pity he has to stand on two legs.” That's the logic of the opponents. One can't help but say that Waldorf schools are good, because everything in these schools is not designed to make them schools with a particular worldview. For example, with regard to religious instruction, we believe that Catholic children should be taught by a Catholic priest and Protestant children by a Protestant pastor. It is only because there are a large number of dissident children in Germany who do not belong to any religious community that we had to set up free religious instruction for them, as these children would otherwise have been left without any religious instruction. It is very difficult for me to find teachers for this, because these free religious education classes are overcrowded; we do not encourage any child to attend them, because we only want to be a modern school. We only want to have practical principles for teaching and education. We do not want to bring anthroposophy into the school because we are not a sect; we want what is universally human. But we cannot help it; the children are leaving Protestant and Catholic religious education and coming to our free classes. It is not our fault, but they are coming. And so we must constantly ensure that this free religious education continues to progress.
And so, little by little, the Waldorf school is growing — it now has about 800 children and 40 to 50 teachers — not beyond our capacity, but beyond our financial means. Today, it is in real financial distress. And less than six weeks ago, it was still impossible to know whether the Waldorf school would even be able to survive financially beyond June 15. We have just given you an example of how difficult it is today to get by with what is so eminently justified in a spiritual sense, given the terrible economic conditions that prevail, especially in Central Europe. And we have, again and again, every month, the most intense concern for the economic existence of the Waldorf school. Fate has us working in such a way that financial hardship hangs over us like the sword of Damocles. But we must work on the principle that the Waldorf school has been established for eternity. It requires a very strong commitment on the part of the teaching staff, who cannot know whether they will be out on the street after three months, to work with such inner intensity.
But it is precisely anthroposophical education that has grown out of the anthroposophical movement in accordance with destiny. It is precisely what we sought least within the anthroposophical movement that flourishes best. I would like to say: what the gods have given us, not what has been made by humans, thrives best. And it is understandable that something like the art of education must be particularly dear to the heart of anthroposophists. For what is actually the most beautiful thing in the world? It is the human being in the process of becoming. To see this human being arrive in the physical world from the spiritual worlds through birth, how he has carried down in an indeterminate way what lives within him, how what lies in his features and movements becomes more and more definite; this influence of divine forces, divine revelations through the human form into the physical world, to observe this in the right way has something deeply religious about it. No wonder, then, that where one wants the most genuine, truest, most intimate humanity, as on anthroposophical ground, one regards the mystery of the growing human being with sacred, religious fervor and wants to meet it with all the work one does.
This is something that, from the deepest stirrings of the soul, inspires enthusiasm for the art of education within the anthroposophical movement. Therefore, it is fair to say that the art of education within the anthroposophical movement is like a structure that cannot be nurtured within this movement in any other way than with the most devoted love. - And so it is cultivated. It is cultivated with the most devoted love. That is why we can also say that the Waldorf school has already grown dear to the hearts of all those who know it; and everything that flourishes there flourishes in such a way that one sees an inner necessity. I would like to point out two facts here.
Some time ago, not long ago, a conference of the Anthroposophical Society took place in Stuttgart. At this conference, a wide variety of wishes were expressed from various quarters as to what should be done in this or that area. And since other people in the world today are so clever, anthroposophists are naturally clever too; they sometimes share in the cleverness of the world. So many interpellations were brought forward, but one was particularly interesting. It came from those who were in the last class of the Waldorf school; a real interpellation to the Anthroposophical Society. It was signed by all the students in the 12th grade and had the following content: We have now been educated at the Waldorf School in such a way that this is genuine human education; now we dread entering a conventional university. Could the Anthroposophical Society not also establish an anthroposophical university? For we would like to attend a university where we are educated as naturally as we are now at the Waldorf School. This interpellation had an idealistic effect at that meeting, and the people even decided to establish an anthroposophical university. Some money was also collected, which then melted away from millions of marks to pennies during the period of inflation. But there were people who believed that something like this could be done — done before the Anthroposophical Society became so powerful that it passed judgment. We could well train doctors, theologians, and so on, but what would they then do? No one would recognize them. But it is a very interesting testimony that shows the inner necessity that is already felt by childlike hearts. What happened in this interpellation was not unnatural. But let's continue. When our students had to complete the final class for the first time, we were forced to do the following. In order for the young people to connect with dead culture—we had only been able to give them living culture, now they had to connect with dead culture, that is, they had to take a high school graduation exam—we had to design the final class so that our students could take the high school graduation exam. But this completely disrupted our curriculum, and we teachers found it extremely difficult to teach the final year in such a way that we had to tailor our entire curriculum to the exam paper. We did it. When I visited the class—it really wasn't easy for me, because on the one hand, the students were yawning because they had to learn what they would need to know for the exam later on; on the other hand, we sometimes wanted to include something that they didn't need to know, but that the students wanted to know. We always had to tell them: You don't have to say that in the exam. It's quite a challenge. And then came the exams. They went reasonably well. But we had – forgive me for using the trivial word – a hangover in the teaching staff and in the teachers' conferences. We said to ourselves: Now we have established the Waldorf school; now, when we should be crowning it with the final school year, we cannot carry out our intentions, what the school should be. And so, despite everything, we decided to strictly follow the curriculum until the last school year, until the end of 12th grade, and to suggest to the parents and students that they add another year afterwards so that the students could take their exams. The students in particular are approaching this with the greatest dedication, wanting to really get along with what is intended and desired at the Waldorf school. We have not actually encountered any opposition. The only thing we have been asked is that Waldorf school teachers should now conduct this training for the exams.
One can see how difficult it is to actually place something that should arise from pure human knowledge into today's so-called reality. If one is not a fantasist who fails to understand that one must reckon with reality, then one has a particularly difficult time. And so, on the one hand, I would say that the art of education within the anthroposophical movement is something that is naturally loved; but on the other hand, the anthroposophical movement faces enormous difficulties in today's general social order if it wants to realize what it sees as the innermost necessity, particularly in the beloved field of education. This, too, must be taken into account in a realistic way. For do not think for a moment that I would laugh at anyone who says to themselves: It's not so bad; it's all a fabrication, because things are going quite well in other schools. No, that is not the point! I know how much work and effort and spirit is involved in today's school system. I can certainly understand that. But unfortunately, people today think too short-sightedly. They do not see the connections between what education has become over the last few centuries and what is rushing towards us in social life in a destructive, devastating, and ruinous way. The fact that anthroposophy knows what the conditions for cultural growth in the future are compels it to develop methods such as those you find in the field of education. It is a matter of humanity, of the possibility of progressing, not of going backwards.
This characterizes, on the one hand, how educational art is positioned within the anthroposophical movement, but on the other hand, precisely because it has this educational art at its core, the anthroposophical movement again has difficulties in the public sphere of today's life. Therefore, when there is a growing circle of people, as is the case here, who want to hear what anthroposophy has to say in the field of education, then one is, I would say, grateful to the spirit of the times that it is possible to talk about something that is so close to one's heart. One can only ever give a few suggestions. Especially in this course, I could only give a few suggestions. And basically, giving these suggestions does not achieve very much, because our anthroposophical pedagogy is a practice of education and teaching. It only comes to life when it is put into practice, because it wants to be nothing other than life itself. Basically, it does not want to be described, but experienced. That is why, when one intends to inspire something that is to be brought to life, one tries to use all possible linguistic artistry to show how anthroposophical educational artistry wants to have a lively effect. Certainly, I may not have succeeded very well in this course, but I tried. And so it is that education has grown out of anthroposophy as a matter of destiny. Many people today still live in anthroposophy in such a way that they only want a worldview for their heart, for their soul, a kind of religious deepening for the soul, and they view it with suspicion that anthroposophy is making its mark in various fields, such as the arts, medicine, education, and so on. But there is no other way, because anthroposophy wants to be life. It wants to work out of life and back into life. And if these lectures on the art of education have succeeded in showing, even if only a little, that anthroposophy is not sectarian fantasy but something that, in a sense, wants to appear with mathematical sobriety as soon as one enters the spiritual realm, then mathematical sobriety itself becomes inspiring, because enthusiasm is a word that is connected with the spirit, and one cannot help but be enthusiastic, even if one is completely mathematically sober, when one has to speak and act from the spirit; So even if anthroposophy is still regarded by some today as a form of fanaticism, it will become apparent that it is based on real foundations: it aims to be a way of life in the broadest sense of the word. And perhaps this can best be demonstrated today in fields such as education.
If it has been possible to give some inspiration in this direction to some of the souls who were here, I am already satisfied. And the best cooperation will result when, in the collaboration of all those who have been inspired a little, what these lectures sought to inspire finds its practical continuation in life.