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Metamorphoses of the Soul II
GA 59

3 March 1910, Berlin

V. Sickness and Healing

It has probably become clear to those people who attended the lectures which I was permitted to hold here this winter more or less regularly that this lecture cycle has dealt with a series of far-reaching questions concerning the soul. It is the intention of today's lecture, also, to deal with such a question, namely the nature of sickness and healing.

What might be said on the relevant facts in life from the point of view of spiritual science, in so far as they are only physical expressions of spiritual causes, was explained in earlier lectures held here—for example “Understanding Sickness and Death”30“Wie begreift man Krankheit und Tod”, Berlin, 13th December 1906, in: Die Erkenntnis des Übersinnlichen in unserer Zeit und deren Bedeutung für das heutige Leben, Rudolf Steiner Verlag, Dornach, Switzerland. (GA 55) or “Illusory Illness” and “The Feverish Pursuit of Health “.31“Der Krankheitswahn im Lichte der Geisteswissenschaft”, Berlin, 13th February 1908; “Das Gesundheitsfieber im Lichte der Geisteswissenschaft”, Berlin, 27th February 1908. The parallel lectures held in Munich (3rd and 5th December 1907) are printed in Die Erkenntnis der Seele und des Geistes, Rudolf Steiner Verlag, Dornach, Switzerland. (GA 56) Today I want to deal with significantly deeper questions in the understanding of sickness and healing.

Sickness, healing and sometimes the fatal course of some illnesses deeply affect the human life. And since we have inquired repeatedly into the preconditions, the spiritual foundations which lie at the base of our reflections here, we are justified in also inquiring into the spiritual causes of these far-reaching facts and consequences of human existence. In other words, what can spiritual science say about these experiences?

We will have to investigate deeply once again the meaning of human life as it develops in order to clarify how illness, health, death and healing stand in relation to the normal course of development of the human being. For we see the events referred to affecting this normal course of development. Do they perhaps contribute something to our development? Do they advance or retard us in our development? We can only reach a clear conception of these events if here, too, we take the whole of the human being into account.

We have often said here that the latter is constituted of four members: first, the physical body which the human being has in common with all mineral beings of his environment which take their form from the physical and chemical forces within them. The second member of the human being we have always called the ether or life body. This he has in common with all living things; that is, with the plant and animal beings of his environment. Then we spoke of the astral body as the third member of man's being; this is the bearer of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, of all the emotions, images, thoughts and so on which flood through us throughout the day. This astral body the human being has in common only with the animal world of his environment. And then there is the highest member of the human being which makes him the crown of creation; the bearer of the ego, his self-consciousness. When we consider these four members, we can say in the first instance that there appear to be certain differences between them, even to the superficial view. The physical human body is there when we look at the human being, at ourselves, from outside. The external physical sense organs can observe the physical body. With the thinking which is tied to these organs, the thinking which is tied to the instrument of the brain, we can understand this physical body of the human being. It is revealed to our external observation.

The relation to the human astral body is quite different. We have already seen from previous descriptions that the astral body is only an outward fact, so to speak, for the truly clairvoyant consciousness; the latter can see the astral body in the same way as the physical one only by schooling the consciousness as has been frequently described. In ordinary life the astral body of the human being is not observable from the outside; the eye can only see the outer expression of the instincts, desires, passions, thoughts and feelings which surge through it. But in contrast, the human being observes within himself these experiences of the astral body. He observes what we call the instincts, desires, passions, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain. Thus it can be said that the relationship between the astral and the physical body is such that in normal life we observe the former internally, but the physical body externally.

Now in a certain sense the other two members of the human being, the ether body and the bearer of the ego, are situated between these two extremes. The physical body is observable purely from the outside, the astral body purely from the inside. But the intermediary member between the physical body and the astral body is the ether body. It cannot be observed from the outside, but it affects the outside. The forces, the inner experiences of the astral body initially have to be transferred to the ether body; only then can they act on the physical instrument, the physical body. The ether body acts as an intermediary member between the astral body and the physical body, forming a link between outside and inside. We can no longer see it with the physical eyes, but that which we can see with the physical eyes is an instrument of the astral body only because the ether body is connected towards the outside with the physical body.

Now in a certain sense the ego acts from the inside to the outside, whilst the ether body acts from the outside inwards to the astral body; for by means of the ego and the way it affects the astral body the human being gains knowledge of the outside world, the physical environment, from which the physical body itself originates. Animal existence takes place without individual, personal knowledge because the animal does not have an individual ego. The animal inwardly lives through all the experiences of the astral body, but does not use its pleasure and pain, sympathy or antipathy to gain knowledge of the outside world. What we call pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, sympathy or antipathy are all experiences of the astral body in the animal; but the animal does not commute its pleasure into a celebration of the beauty of the world, but it remains within the element which causes the pleasure. The animal lives immediately within its pain; the human being is guided by his pain beyond himself into discovery of the world because the ego leads him out again and unites him with the outside world. Thus we see on the one hand how the ether body is directed inwards into the human being towards the astral body, whereas the ego leads into the outside world, into the physical world which surrounds us.

The human being leads an alternating life. This alternating life can be observed everyday. From the moment of waking in the morning we observe in the human soul all the in and out flooding experiences of the astral body—joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, feelings, images, etc. We see how at night these experiences sink down to a level of undefined darkness as the astral body and the ego enter an unconscious, or perhaps better said, subconscious state. When we look at the waking human being between morning and evening, the physical body, ether body, astral body and ego are interwoven, are inter-linked in their effects. When the human being goes to sleep at night, the occult consciousness can see that the physical body and the ether body remain in bed and that the astral body and the ego return to their proper home in the spiritual world, that they withdraw from the physical body and the ether body. It is possible to describe this in still a different way which will enable us to deal with the present subject in the appropriate way.

The physical body, which only presents us with its outward aspect, sleep remains in the physical world as the outward human being and keeps the ether body, the mediator between inner and outer, with it. That is why in the sleeping human being there can be no mediation between outer and inner because the ether body, as mediator, has entered the outside world. Thus one can say in a certain sense that in the sleeping human being the physical body and the ether body are merely the outer human being; one could even describe the physical and ether bodies as the “outer human being” per se, even though the ether body is the mediator between outer and inner. In contrast, the astral body in the sleeping human being can be described as the “inner human being”. These terms are also true of the waking human being, because all the experiences of the astral body are inner experiences under normal circumstances and what the ego gains in knowledge of the outside world in waking life is taken up inwardly by the human being to be assimilated as learning. The external becomes internalised through the ego. This demonstrates that we can speak of an “outward” and an “inward” human being, the former consisting of a physical and ether body, the latter of ego and astral body.

Now let us observe the so-called normal human life and its development in essence. Let us ask the question: Why does the human being return with his astral body and his ego to the spiritual world every night? Is there any reason for the human being to go to sleep? This subject has been mentioned before, but it is necessary for the topic we are dealing with today. Normal developments have to be understood in order to recognise the apparently abnormal states as they manifest themselves in sickness and healing. Why does the human being go to sleep every night?

An understanding of this can only be reached if one considers fully the relationship between the astral body and the ego and the “outer human being”. We described the astral body as the bearer of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, of instincts, desires, passions, of the surging imagination, perceptions, ideas and feelings. But if the astral body is the bearer of all these things, why is it that at night the human being does not have these experiences, even though the actual inner human being is connected with the astral body in such a manner that the physical and the ether bodies are not present? Why is it that during this period these experiences sink down into an undefined darkness? The reason is that the astral body and the ego, although they are the bearers of joy and sorrow, judgments, the imagination, etc., cannot experience directly those things of which they are the bearers. In our human life the astral body and the ego under normal circumstances are dependent on the physical body and the ether body for awareness of their own experiences. Our soul-life is not something which is immediately experienced by the astral body. If this were the case, then we would also experience it during the night when we remain united with the astral body. Our daytime soul-life is like an echo or a mirror-image. The physical body and the ether body reflect the experiences of the astral body. Everything which our soul conjures up for us between waking up and going to sleep, it can only do because it sees its own experiences in the mirror of the physical and ether or life bodies. At the moment when we leave the physical and ether bodies at night we still have all the experiences of the astral body in us but we are not conscious of them because in order to be conscious of them the reflecting qualities of the physical body and the ether body are required.

Thus in the whole of our life as it takes its course from waking up in the morning to going to sleep at night we see an interaction between the inner and the outer human being, between the ego and the astral body on the one hand and the physical body and the ether body on the other. The forces which are at work here are the forces of the astral body and the ego. For under no circumstances could the physical body as the sum of physical attributes bring forth our soul-life out of itself and neither could the ether body. The reflecting forces come from the astral body and the ego in the same way as the image which we see in the mirror does not originate in the mirror but in the object which is reflected in the mirror. Thus all the forces which cause our soul-life lie in the astral body and the ego, in the inward nature of the human being. And they become active in the interaction between inner and outer world, they reach out, so to speak, for our physical and ether bodies, but at night we see them enter the state which we call “tiredness”. We see them exhausted at night. And we would be unable to continue our life if we were not in a position to enter a different world each night than the one which we inhabit from morning to evening. In the world which we inhabit when we are awake we can make our soul-life perceptible, we can create it before our soul. That we do with the forces of the astral body. But we also exhaust these forces and cannot replenish them out of our waking life. We can only replenish them out of the spiritual world which we enter each night and that is why we sleep. We would be unable to live without entering the world of night and fetching from the spiritual world the forces which we use during the day. Thus the question what we bring into the physical world when we enter our ether and physical bodies is answered.

But do we not also carry something from the physical world into the spiritual world at night? That is the second question, and it is just as important as the first one.

In order to answer this question, we have to deal with a number of things which are a part of normal human life. In ordinary life we have so-called experiences. These experiences are significant in our life between birth and death. An example which has often been mentioned here will illuminate this, the example of learning to write. When we put pen to paper in order to express our thoughts, we practise the art of writing. We can write, but what are the conditions required that we can do so? It is necessary that in a certain span of existence between birth and death we have a whole series of experiences. Think of all the things which you went through as a child, from the first clumsy attempts to hold the pen, put it to paper, etc., etc. One might well thank God that one does not have to recall all those things. Because it would be a dreadful situation if every time that we wanted to write we had to recall all the unsuccessful attempts at tracing the lines, perhaps also the punishments connected therewith, and so on in order to develop what we call the art of writing. What has taken place? Development in an important sense has taken place in the human life between birth and death. We have had a whole series of experiences. These experiences took place over a long period of time. Then they were refined, as it were, into an essence which we call the “ability” to write. All the other things have sunk into the indeterminate shadow of forgetfulness. But there is no need to remember them, because our soul has developed to a higher stage from these experiences: our memories flow together into essences which appear in life as our capabilities and abilities. That is our development in the existence between birth and death. Experiences are transformed initially into abilities of the soul which can then come to expression by means of the outer tools of the physical body. All personal experiences between birth and death take place in such a manner that they are transformed into abilities and also into wisdom.

We can gain an insight into how this transformation takes place if we take a look at the period between 1770 and 1815. A significant historical event took place during this period. A large number of people were contemporaries of this event. How did they respond to it? Some of them did not notice the events passing by them. Impassively they neglected to turn the events into knowledge, wisdom of the world. Others transformed them into a deep wisdom, they extracted the essence.

How are experiences transformed in the soul into ability and wisdom? They are transformed by being taken in their immediate form into our sleep each night, into those spheres where the soul or the inner human being reside during the night. There the experiences which occur over a period of time are changed into essences. Any observer of life knows that if one wants to master and co-ordinate a series of experiences in a single sphere of activity it is necessary to transform these experiences in periods of sleep. For example, a thing is best learnt by heart by learning it, sleeping on it, learning it again, sleeping on it again. If one is not able to immerse the experiences in sleep in order for them to emerge as abilities or in the form of wisdom or art, then they will not be developed.

This is the expression on a higher level of what we are faced with as necessity on a lower one. This year's plant cannot become next year's one if it does not return to the dark lap of the earth in order to grow again the following year. Here development remains repetition. Where it is illuminated with the human spirit it is a true “development”. The experiences descend into the nocturnal lap of the unconscious and they are brought forth again, initially still as repetition; but eventually they will have been transformed to such an extent that they can emerge as wisdom, as abilities, as life experience.

Thus life was understood in times when it was still possible to observe the spiritual worlds more deeply than is the case today. That is why, where leading personalities of ancient cultures wanted to speak of certain things by means of an image we see indications of these significant foundations of human life. What would someone have to do if he wanted to prevent a series of daytime experiences catching fire in his soul and being transformed into certain abilities? What, for example, happens when someone experiences a certain relationship with another person over a period of time? These experiences with the other person descend into the night-time consciousness and re-emerge from night-time consciousness as love for another person, which, when it is healthy, is an essence, as it were, of the consecutive experiences. The feeling of love for the other person has come about in such a way that the sum of experiences has been drawn together into unity, as if woven into a fabric. Now what would someone have to do to prevent a series of experiences turning into love? He would have to take the special measure of preventing the nightly natural process which turns our experience into essence, the feeling of love, from taking place. He would have to unravel again at night the fabric of daytime experience. If he can manage this his achievement is that his experience of the other person, which turns into love in his soul, has no effect on him.

Homer was alluding to these depths of human soul-life in his image of Penelope and her suitors.32See Odyssey, 19th Book, 1.137 ff. She promises marriage to each one after she has completed a certain fabric. She manages to avoid having to keep her promise only by unravelling each night what she has woven during the day. Great depths are revealed where the seer is also artist. Today there is little feeling left for these things and such interpretations of poets who were also seers are declared arbitrary and phantastical. This can harm neither the ancient poets nor the truth, but only our time, which is thus prevented from entering into the depths of human life.

Thus something is taken into the soul at night which returns again. Something is taken into the soul which the soul develops and which raises it to ever higher levels of ability. But now it must be asked: where does this development of the human being reach its limit? This frontier can be recognised if we observe how the human being when he wakes up in the morning always returns to the same physical body and ether body with the same abilities and talents, the same configuration which they have possessed from birth. This configuration, these inner structures and forms of the physical and ether bodies cannot be altered by human being. If we were able to take the physical or, at least, the ether body into the state of sleep then we would be able to change them. But in the morning we find them again unchanged from the evening. Here there is a clear limitation to what can be achieved by development in the life between birth and death. Development between birth and death is essentially restricted to experiences of the soul; it cannot extend to physical experience.

Thus for all the opportunities someone might have to pass through experiences which could deepen his musical appreciation, to awaken in his soul a profound musical life, it could not be developed if he did not have a musical ear, if the physical and etheric formation of his ear did not permit him to establish the harmony between the outer and the inner human being. In order for the human being to be whole, all the members of his being have to form a unity, to be in harmony. That is why all the opportunities which a person with an unmusical ear might have to go through experiences which would enable him to rise to a higher level of musical appreciation have to remain in the soul, have to resign themselves. They cannot come to fruition because the boundary is drawn each morning by the structure and form of the internal organs. These things are not dependent merely on the more rough structures of the physical and ether bodies but on very subtle relationships therein. Every function of the soul in our current normal life has to find expression in an organ; and if the organ is not formed in a suitable way then this is prevented. Those things which cannot be demonstrated by physiology and anatomy, the subtle sculpting within the organs, are precisely the things which are incapable of transformation between birth and death.

Is the human being completely powerless, then, to transfuse into his physical and ether bodies the events and experiences which he has taken into his astral body and ego? For when we look at people we can see that the human being can even shape his physical body within limits. One only needs to observe a person who has spent ten years of his life in deep inner contemplation: the gestures and physiognomy will have changed. But this occurs within very narrow confines. Is it always the case?

That this is not always confined to the narrowest of limitations can only be understood if we take recourse to a law which we have often mentioned here, but which needs to be recalled frequently because it is so alien to our present time, a law which can be compared with another one which became established for mankind in the 17th century on a lower level.

Up until the 17th century it was believed that the lower animals, insects, etc., could originate from river mud. It was believed that nothing more than pure matter was required to generate earth-worms and insects. This was thought to be true not only by amateurs but also by scholars. If we go back to earlier times we find that everything was systematised in such a way that, for example, instructions were given on how to create life from the environment. Thus a book from the 7th century AD33The reference is to the work De Natura Rerum by Isidore of Seville, c. 560-636, the last Occidental Church Father. Cf. also Rudolf Steiner's lecture of 18th January 1912 in Menschengeschichte im Lichte der Geistesforschung, Rudolf Steiner Verlag, Dornach, Switzerland. (GA 61) describes how the carcass of a horse has to be beaten tender in order to create bees. Similarly bullocks created hornets, donkeys, wasps. It was in the 17th century that the great scientist Francesco Redi34Francesco Redi, 1626–1698. Italian doctor, scientist and poet. Cf. his work Osservazione intorno agli animali viventi che si trovano negli animali viventi, 1684. first pronounced the axiom: life can only originate from life! Because of this truth, which is taken as self-evident today so that no one can understand how anything else could ever have been believed, Redi was considered a dreadful heretic still in the 17th century and he barely escaped the fate of Giordano Bruno.

It is always like that with such truths. At first those who proclaim them are branded as heretics and fall prey to the inquisition. In the past people were burned or threatened with burning. Today this type of inquisition has been abandoned. No one is burnt anymore. But those who today sit on the curule chair of science regard all those who proclaim a new, higher level of truth to be fools and dreamers. People who today espouse in a different way the axiom regarding living things which Francesco Redi put forward in the 17th century are considered to be fools and dreamers. Redi pointed out that it is inexact observation to believe that life can originate immediately from dead matter but that it must be traced back to similar living matter, to the embryo which draws its matter and strength from the environment. Similarly spiritual science today must point out that what enters existence as soul and spiritual nature must originate from soul and spirit and is not an assembly of inherited characteristics. As the embryonic form of the earth-worm draws on the matter of its environment to develop, so the soul and spiritual kernel equally has to draw on the substances of its environment in order to develop. If we pursue the soul and spiritual nature in the human being backwards, we come to an earlier soul and spiritual element which exists before birth and which has nothing to do with heredity. The axiom that soul-spiritual elements can only arise from soul-spiritual elements entails in the last instance the axiom of repeated earth lives, of which a closer study of spiritual science furnishes the proof. Our life between birth and death leads back to other lives which we went through in earlier times. The soul and spiritual element originates in the soul and in the spirit, and the causes of our present experiences between birth and death lie in a previous soul and spiritual existence. When we pass through the gates of death we take with us what we assimilated in this life as transformation from causes into abilities. This we return with when we enter a future existence through birth.

In the time between death and birth we are in different circumstances than when we enter the spiritual world each night through sleep from which we wake up again in the morning. When we wake up in the morning, we find our physical and ether bodies as we left them the previous evening. We cannot transform them with our experiences in life between birth and death. We find our limitation in the finished ether and physical bodies. But when we enter the spiritual world through the gate of death we leave the physical and ether bodies behind and retain only the essence of the ether body. In the spiritual world we have no need to take account of an existing physical and ether body. In the whole period between death and a new birth the human being can work with purely spiritual forces, he is dealing with purely spiritual substance. He takes from the spiritual world what he requires to create the archetype of his new physical body and ether body and forms these archetypes up to the time of his new birth, weaving into them all the experiences which the soul was unable to utilise between birth and death in the previous physical and ether bodies. Then the moment arrives when this purely spiritual archetypal image has been finished and when the human being is able to sculpt into the physical and ether bodies what he has woven into the archetypal image; the archetype is thus active in this particular state of sleep which the human being is passing through.

If the human being were able to bring with him in a similar manner his physical body and ether body each morning on waking up, then he would be able to form them from out of the spiritual world; but he would also have to transform them. But birth means waking up from a state of sleep which encompasses the physical and ether bodies in the existence before birth. It is at this point that the astral body and ego descend into the physical world, into the physical body and the ether body, into which they can now sculpt everything which they could not form into the complete bodies of the previous life. Now, in a new life, they can express in an ether body and a physical body everything which they were able to raise to a higher stage of development but which they were unable to put into practice in the previous life because the complete ether body and physical body made it impossible.

Were we not able to destroy our physical and ether bodies, were the physical body unable to pass through death, it would be impossible to integrate our experiences into our development. However much we regard death with fear and shock and feel pain and sorrow at the death which will affect us, an objective view of the world teaches us in fact: we have to want death! For death alone gives us the opportunity to destroy this body in order to enable us to construct a new one in the next life so that we can bring into life all the fruits of earthly existence.

Thus two currents are active together in the normal course of human life: an inner and an outer. These two currents reveal themselves to us in parallel in the physical and the ether bodies on the one hand and in the astral body and the ego on the other. What can the human being do between birth and death in relation to the physical and ether bodies? Not only the astral body is exhausted by the life of the soul, but the organs of the physical body and the ether body are also exhausted. We can now observe the following: whilst the astral body is in the spiritual world during the night, it also works on the physical body and the ether body to restore them to their normal state. Only in sleep can what has been destroyed during the day in the physical and ether bodies be restored. Thus the spiritual world does indeed work on the physical and ether bodies, but with limitations. The abilities and structure of the physical body and ether body are given at birth and cannot alter except within very narrow margins. Two streams are active in cosmic development, as it were, which cannot abstractly be made to harmonize. If someone tried to unite these two streams in abstract reflection, tried to develop lightly a philosophy which said: “Well, the human being has to be in harmony, therefore the two streams have to be harmonious in man!” he would be making an enormous error. Life does not work according to abstractions. Life works in such a way that these abstract visions can only be achieved after long periods of development. Life works in such a manner that it creates states of equilibrium and harmony only by passing through stages of disharmony. This is the living interaction in the human being and indeed it is not meant to be made harmonious by reflection. It is always an indication of abstract, dry thinking if a harmony is imagined into a situation where life has to develop towards a stage of balance through disharmony. It is the fate of human development that we must have harmony as an aim which cannot, however, be reached if it is merely imagined into a given stage of human development.

It will now be easier to understand when spiritual science says that life presents different aspects, depending on whether we regard it from the point of view of the inner or outer human being. The person who wanted to combine these two aspects by some abstraction would leave out of account that there is more than one ideal, one judgment, but that there are as many judgments as there are points of view and that it is only when these different points of view act together that the truth can be found. This allows us to assume that life's view of the inner human being might be different from its view of the outer human being. An example will make clear that truths are relative, depending on whether they are regarded from one aspect or another.

It is certainly quite appropriate for a giant who has a hand the size of a small child to talk of his little finger. Whether a dwarf the size of the small child can also talk of the giant's little finger is another matter. Things by necessity are complementary truths. There is no absolute truth as regards outer things. Things have to be looked at from all different points of view and truth has to be found through the individual truths which illuminate one another. That is also the reason why in life as we can observe it the outer human being, physical body and ether body, and the inner human being, astral body and ego, need not in a given period of life be in complete harmony. If there were complete harmony then the case would be that when the human being enters the spiritual world at night he would take the events of the day with him and would transform them into the essence of ability, of wisdom, and so on, and the forces which he brought with him from the spiritual world in the morning into the physical world would be used only in relation to the soul life. But the frontier which we described and which is drawn for the physical body would never be crossed. Then, also, there would be no human development. The human being has to learn to take note of these limitations himself; he has to make them part of his judgment. The possibility must be given for him to breach these limits to the greatest possible extent.

And he breaches them continually! In real life these frontiers are crossed continually so that for example the astral body and the ego do not keep within the limits when they affect the physical body. But in doing so they breach the laws of the physical body. We then observe such breaches as irregularities, as disorganisation of the physical body, as the appearance of sickness, caused by action of the spirit—the astral body and the ego. Limits can be breached also in other ways, namely that the human being as inner being does not manage to correlate with the outside world, that he fails to relate fully to the outside world. This can be shown in a very dramatic example.

When the famous eruption of Mount Pelee35Volcano on the West Indian island of Martinique; largest eruption on 8th May 1902. in Central America took place, very noteworthy and instructive documents were found in the ruins afterwards. In one of them it said: “You need not fear any more because the danger is past; there will be no more eruptions. This is shown by the laws which we have recognised as the laws of nature.” These documents, which stated that further volcanic eruptions were impossible according to the current state of knowledge of nature, had been buried—and with them the scholars who had written these documents on the basis of their normal scholarly knowledge. A tragic event took place here. But that precisely demonstrated the disharmony of the human being with the physical world quite clearly. There can be no doubt that the intelligence of the scholars who investigated these natural laws would have been adequate to find the truth if they had been sufficiently trained. For they were not lacking in intelligence. But although intelligence is necessary, it is insufficient on its own, Animals, for example, leave an area if such an event is imminent. That is a well-known fact. Only the domesticated animals perish with the human beings. The so-called animal instinct is therefore sufficient to develop a far greater wisdom as far as those future events are concerned than human wisdom today. “Intelligence” is not the decisive factor; our current intellect is present also in those who commit the greatest follies. Intelligence is therefore not lacking. What is lacking is sufficiently matured experience of events. As soon as the intelligence lays something down which appears plausible to its narrow limited experience it can come into disharmony with the real outward events and then the outer events break down around it. For there is a relationship between the physical body and the world which the human being will gradually learn to recognise and grasp with the forces which he possesses today already. But he will only be able to do this once he has accrued and assimilated the experiences of the outside world. Then the harmony which will have developed as a result of this experience will have been created by no other intellect than the one we have today; for it is precisely in the present that our intellect has developed to a certain stage. The only thing lacking is the ripening of experience. If the maturing of experience does not correspond to the outside then the human being becomes disharmonious with the outside world and can be broken on events in the outer world.

We have seen in an extreme example how disharmony between the physical bodies of the scholars and the stage which they had reached inwardly in the development of their soul came about. Such disharmony occurs not only when momentous events happen to us; such disharmony is given in principle and in essence always when any outer harm befalls our physical and ether bodies, when outer harm affects the outer human being in such a way that he is not capable of countering this harm with his inner forces, to ban it from his life. This applies whether it is externally visible or an internal sickness, which is, however, in reality only an external one. For if we have an upset stomach, then that is essentially the same as if a brick drops on our head. This is the situation which occurs when conflict arises—or is allowed to arise between the inner human being and the external world, when the inner human being cannot match the outer human being.

Fundamentally all illnesses are such disharmony, such breaching of the division between inner and outer human being. Something is created by the continual breach of these divisions which will become harmony only in the far distant future, which remains an abstraction if our thinking tries to impose it on our life. The human being only develops his inner life by beginning to realise that at his present stage he is not yet able to match outer life. This is true not only of the ego, but also of the astral body. The human being experiences consciously between waking up and going to sleep those things which are penetrated by the ego. The working of the astral body, the way in which it breaches its limits and is impotent to create proper harmony between the inner and the outer human being, lies outside normal human consciousness. But it is present, nevertheless. All these things reveal the deeper inner nature of sickness.

What are the two possible courses which an illness can take? Either healing or death occurs. In the normal development of life death must be seen as the one side and healing as the other.

What does healing signify for the development of the human being? First of all it must be clarified what sickness means for the overall development of the human being.

In sickness there is disharmony between the inner and the outer human being. In a certain way the inner human being has to withdraw from the outer one. A simple example is when we cut our finger. We can only cut the physical body, not the astral. But the astral body always transfuses the physical one and the result is that the astral body does not find in the cut finger what it should find when it penetrates into its smallest recesses. It feels disconnected from the physical part of the finger. That, in essence, is the nature of a whole number of illnesses that the inner human being feels disconnected from the outer, that it cannot penetrate the outer human being because an injury causes a division. Now health can be restored to the human being by outer means or the inner human being can be strengthened to such an extent that it is able to heal the outer human being. The link between outer and inner human being is re-established to a greater or lesser degree after healing, the inner human being can again live in the healed outer one.

This is a process which can be compared to waking up: after an artificial withdrawal by the inner human being we return to the experiences which are only available in the outside world. Healing makes it possible for the human being to return with those things which he could not otherwise bring back. The healing process is assimilated into the inner human being and becomes an integral part of this inner human being. Return to health, healing, is something which we can look back on with satisfaction because in a similar manner that sleep makes the inner human being progress we are given something by healing which allows the inner human being to progress. Even if it is not immediately visible, we are elevated in our soul experience, are enhanced in our inner human being by a return to health. In sleep we take with us into the spiritual world the things we have won through healing and the latter is therefore something which strengthens us as far as the forces which we develop in sleep are concerned. All these thoughts on the mysterious relationship between healing and sleep could be developed in full if there were the time, but it can be seen, nevertheless, how healing can be equated with what we take into the spiritual world at night; with that which brings progress into our processes of development in so far as they can be made to progress at all between birth and death. Those things which in normal life we draw in from outer experience come to expression in our soul-life between birth and death as higher development. But not everything which assimilated through healing emerges again. We can also take it through the gate of death and it can be of benefit to us in the next life. But spiritual science shows us the following: we should be thankful each time that we are healed, for each healing signifies an enhancement of our inner human being which can only be achieved with the forces which we have assimilated inwardly.

The other question is: what is the significance for the human being of the illness which ends in death?

In a certain sense it means the opposite, that we cannot restore the disturbed balance between the inner and the outer human being, that we cannot in the correct way cross the frontier between the inner and the outer human being in this life. As we have to accept our unchanged healthy body when we wake up in the morning we have to accept our unchanged damaged body when an illness ends with death and are incapable of making it change. The healthy body remains as it is and receives us in the morning; the damaged body can no longer receive us and we end up in death. We have to leave the body because we are no longer able to re-establish its harmony. But we then take our experiences into the spiritual world without the benefit of an outer body. The fruits which we gain as a result of our damaged body no longer receiving us become an enrichment for the life between death and a new birth. Thus, also, we have to be thankful to an illness which ends in death because it gives us the opportunity of enhancing the life between death and a new birth and to gather together the forces and experiences which can only mature during that time.

Thus we have here the consequences for the soul of illnesses which end in death and illnesses which end in healing. That gives us two aspects: we can be thankful to an illness which ends in healing because we have become strengthened in our inner self; and we can be thankful to an illness which ends in death because we know: in the higher stage which we enter in the life between death and a new birth death is of great significance for us because we will have learnt from it that our body must be different when we construct it for the future. And we will avoid the harmful aspects which caused us to fail before. The healing process makes our inner life progress, death influences the development in the outer world.

The necessity therefore arises that we take two different points of view. Nobody should think that it would be correct to say from the point of view of spiritual science: if death, which results from illness is something for which we must be grateful, if the course of an illness is something which elevates us in our next life, then we should really permit all illness to end in death and not make any attempt at healing! To speak like that would not be in the spirit of spiritual science, for the latter is not concerned with abstractions but with those truths which are arrived at from different points of view. We have the duty to make every attempt at healing with all the means at our disposal. The task to heal to the best of our ability lies embedded in the human consciousness. Thus the view that death, when it occurs, is something to be grateful for is not one which is normally present in ordinary human consciousness, but can only be won if we transcend it. From the “viewpoint of the gods” it is justified to let an illness end in death; from the human viewpoint it is justified only to do everything to bring about healing. An illness which ends in death cannot be judged on the same level. Initially these two views are irreconcilable and they have to progress in parallel. Any abstract harmonising is of no use here. Spiritual science has to advance to a recognition of the truths which stem from one particular side of life and of other truths which are representative of another side.

The sentence “healing is good, healing is a duty” is correct. But so is the other sentence “death is good when it occurs as the result of illness; death is beneficial for overall human development.” Although these two sentences contradict one another, both of them contain living truths which can be recognised by living knowledge. Precisely where two streams, which can only be made harmonious in the future, enter human life it is possible to see the error of thinking in stereotypes and the necessity to regard life in broad outline. It has to be clearly understood that so-called contradictions, when they refer only to experience and a deeper knowledge of the matter, do not limit our knowledge but lead us gradually into a living knowledge because life itself develops towards harmony.

Normal life proceeds in such a manner that we create abilities from experiences and that the things which we cannot assimilate between birth and death are woven into the fabric which we then make use of between death and a new birth. Healing and fatal illness intertwine with this normal course of human life in such a manner that every healing is a contribution to the elevation of the human being to a higher stage, and every fatal illness, too, leads the human being to higher levels. The former as far as the inner human being is concerned and the latter as far as the outer human being is concerned. Thus there is progress in the world in that it moves not in one but in two opposing currents. It is precisely in sickness and healing that the complexities of human life become visible. If sickness and health did not exist, normal life could only proceed in such a manner that the human being would spin the thread of his life hanging on to the apron strings of existence, never going beyond his limits. And the forces to construct his body anew would be given to him from the spiritual world between death and a new birth. In such a situation the human being would never be able to unfold the fruits of his own labour in the development of the world. These fruits can be unfolded by the human being in the close confines of life only in that he can err. For only by a knowledge of error can truth be arrived at. It is only possible to assimilate truth such that it becomes part of the soul, such that it influences development, if it is extracted from the fertile soul of error. The human being could be perfectly healthy if he did not interfere in life with his errors and imperfections by breaching his limits. But health which has the same origins as the inwardly recognised truth, health for which the human being wrestles from one incarnation to the next with his own life, such health only comes about through the reality of mistakes, through illness. The human being learns to overcome his mistakes and errors in healing on the one hand, and on the other he meets the mistakes which he was not able to overcome in life in the existence between death and a new life so that he learns to surmount them in the next life.

We can now return to our dramatic example and say: the intellect of those scholars who made such a wrong judgment at the time will not only become more cautious in jumping to conclusions, but it will let the experience ripen in order gradually to create harmony with life.

Thus it can be observed how healing and sickness affect human life so that the human being could never achieve his aims by his own effort without them. We can see how their seemingly abnormal intervention in our development belongs to human existence, as does error, if our aim is to recognise truth. We could say the same about sickness and healing as a great poet in an important epoch said about human error: “The striving human being errs.”36Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust I, Prologue in Heaven, 1.317. This might give the impression as if the poet had wanted to say: “The human being always errs!” But the sentence is reversible and might be said: “Let the human being strive whilst he still errs!” Error gives birth to renewed striving. The sentence “The striving human being errs” need not, therefore, fill us with despair, for every error brings forth new striving and the human being will continue to strive until he has overcome the error. That is as much as to say that error in itself points beyond itself and leads to human truth. And similarly it can be said: sickness may occur in the human being, but he must develop. Through illness he develops to health. Thus illness points beyond itself in healing and even in death, and produces a state of health which is not alien to man but which grows out of the human being and is in accord with this being.

Everything which appears in this context is well suited to showing us how the world in the wisdom of its existence avails the human being at every stage of his development of the opportunity to grow beyond himself in the sense of the saying by Angelus Silesius with which we concluded the lecture “What is Mysticism?” At that time we were referring to more intimate spheres of development; now we can expand its meaning to the whole field of sickness and healing and we can truly say:

If you transcend yourself in God's prevailing,
Then in your spirit will ascension reign!37See note 20.

Krankheit und Heilung

Aus den Vorträgen, welche ich in diesem Winter hier habe halten dürfen, ging wohl denjenigen, welche mehr oder weniger ständige Zuhörer waren, mit Deutlichkeit hervor, daß es sich in diesem Vortragszyklus um eine Reihe von einschneidenden Seelenfragen handelte. Von dem Gesichtspunkte einer Seelenfrage soll auch die heutige Darstellung gegeben sein, die Darstellung über das Wesen von Krankheit und das Wesen von Heilung.

Was vom Gesichtspunkte der Geisteswissenschaft über die entsprechenden Tatsachen des Lebens zu sagen ist, insofern sie bloß physische Ausdrücke geistiger Ursachen sind, das wurde in früheren Vorträgen - zum Beispiel in dem Vortrage «Wie begreift man Krankheit und Tod?», über den «Krankheitswahn» und das «Gesundheitsfieber» — hier auseinandergesetzt. Heute soll es sich um wesentlich tiefere Fragen in der Erkenntnis von Krankheit und Heilung handeln.

Krankheit, Heilung oder wohl auch der tödliche Ausgang dieser oder jener Krankheit greifen ja tief in das Menschenleben ein. Und wenn wir uns nach den ganzen Vorbedingungen, nach den geistigen Untergründen der Dinge, die unseren Betrachtungen hier zugrunde liegen, immer wieder gefragt haben, so dürfen wir wohl auch gegenüber diesen einschneidenden Tatsachen und Erlebnissen des menschlichen Daseins nach den geistigen Ursachen fragen. Mit andern Worten, wir dürfen die Frage aufwerfen: Was hat die Geisteswissenschaft zu diesen Erlebnissen zu sagen?

Da werden wir allerdings wieder einmal tief hineinschauen müssen in den ganzen Sinn der Entwickelung dieses menschlichen Lebens, um uns klar zu werden, wie in den normalen Gang der Entwickelung des Menschen sich hineinstellen können Krankheit, Gesundheit, Tod, Heilung. Denn im Grunde genommen sehen wir die genannten Erscheinungen sich gleichsam hineinstellen in die normale Entwickelung des Menschen. Tragen sie vielleicht etwas bei zu unserer Entwickelung? Mit andern Worten, treiben sie uns in der Entwickelung nach vorwärts oder nach rückwärts? Wir kommen zu einem klaren Begriff von diesen Erscheinungen nur, wenn wir auch hier die Gesamtnatur des Menschen ins Auge fassen.

Diese Gesamtnatur haben wir schon öfter hier so dargestellt, daß sie sich zusammensetzt aus den realen vier Gliedern des menschlichen Wesens: erstens aus dem physischen Leib, den der Mensch gemeinschaftlich hat mit allen mineralischen Wesen seiner Umgebung, welche ihre Formen von den ihnen innewohnenden physischen und chemischen Kräften und Gesetzen haben. Das zweite Glied der menschlichen Wesenheit nannten wir immer den Äther- oder Lebensleib und konnten sagen, daß ihn der Mensch in der Art, wie wir von ihm sprechen, gemeinschaftlich hat mit allem Lebendigen, also mit den pflanzlichen und tierischen Wesenheiten seiner Umgebung. Dann haben wir hingewiesen auf den astralischen Leib, den der Mensch als drittes Glied seiner Wesenheit hat; er ist der Träger von Lust und Leid, Freude und Schmerz, von allen vom Morgen bis zum Abend in uns auf und ab wogenden Empfindungen, Vorstellungen, Gedanken und so weiter. Diesen astralischen Leib hat der Mensch nur noch gemeinschaftlich mit der tierischen Welt seiner Umgebung. Und dann haben wir immer betrachtet das höchste Glied der menschlichen Wesenheit, das ihn zur Krone der Erdenschöpfung macht, den Träger seines Ich, seines Selbstbewußtseins. Wenn wir diese vier Glieder ins Auge fassen, so können wir uns zunächst sagen: Es erscheint uns — auch bei einer oberflächlichen Betrachtung — eine gewisse Verschiedenheit zwischen diesen vier Gliedern. Den physischen menschlichen Leib haben wir vor uns, wenn wir den Menschen, wenn wir uns selber von außen betrachten. Die äußeren physischen Sinnesorgane können wahrnehmen, was wir als physischen Menschenleib bezeichnen. Mit dem an diese physischen Organe gebundenen Denken, das heißt mit jenem Denken, das an das Instrument des Gehirns gebunden ist, können wir diesen physischen Leib des Menschen begreifen. Er zeigt sich uns daher, wenn wir ihn von außen betrachten.

Ganz anders ist das Verhältnis zu dem menschlichen Astralleib. Wir haben aus den vorhergehenden Darstellungen schon erkannt, daß nur für das wahre hellsichtige Bewußtsein der astralische Leib sozusagen eine äußere Tatsache ist; daß nur dieses, durch die schon öfter charakterisierte Schulung des Bewußtseins, den astralischen Leib in gewisser Art so sehen kann wie den physischen Leib. Für das normale Leben ist der astralische Leib des Menschen nicht von außen wahrnehmbar; von den in ihm auf und ab wogenden Trieben, Begierden, Leidenschaften, Gedanken, Gefühlen und so weiter kann das Auge nur die Äußerungen sehen. Dagegen nimmt der Mensch selber in seinem Innern diese Erlebnisse seines astralischen Leibes wahr. Er nimmt wahr, was wir Triebe, Begierden, Leidenschaften, Freude und Schmerz, Lust und Leid nennen. Daher können wir sagen, daß sich der astralische Leib zum physischen Leib verhält so, daß wir den ersteren im normalen Menschenleben von innen anschauen, den physischen Leib aber von außen.

In einer gewissen Beziehung stehen nun die andern beiden Glieder der menschlichen Natur, der Ätherleib und der Träger des Ich, zwischen diesen äußersten Extremen. Der physische Leib ist rein äußerlich wahrzunehmen, der astralische Leib rein innerlich. Aber das Mittelglied zwischen dem physischen Leib und dem Astralleib ist der Ätherleib. Er ist von außen nicht wahrzunehmen, wirkt aber nach außen. Er wirkt im gewöhnlichen Leben des Menschen so nach außen, daß wir sagen können: Was der astralische Leib an Kräften, an inneren Erlebnissen entwickelt, das muß zunächst auf den Ätherleib übertragen werden; dann kann es erst eingreifen in die physischen Werkzeuge, in den physischen Leib. So wirkt zwischen dem astralischen Leib und dem physischen Leib der Ätherleib als Mittelglied. Es führt also von außen nach innen dieser Äther- oder Lebensleib. Wir können ihn nicht mehr mit physischen Augen sehen. Aber was wir mit physischen Augen sehen können, ist nur dadurch ein Werkzeug des astralischen Leibes, daß der Ätherleib nach außen in den physischen Leib hineinwirkt.

In gewisser Beziehung geht nun dasjenige, was wir das menschliche Ich nennen, wieder von innen nach außen — während der Ätherleib von außen nach innen zum Astralleib geht. Denn durch das Ich, und was es aus dem astralischen Leib macht, wird der Mensch ein Erkenner der äußeren Welt, der physischen Umwelt, aus der der physische Leib selbst entnommen ist. Das tierische Leben geht ohne individuelle, ohne persönliche Erkenntnis vor sich, weil das Tier dieses persönliche Ich nicht hat; weil das Tier alle seine Erlebnisse des astralischen Leibes innerlich durchlebt, aber nicht seine Lust und sein Leid, Sympathie oder Antipathie dazu benutzt, um sich Erkenntnis der äußeren Welt zu verschaffen. Was wir Lust und Leid nennen, Freude und Schmerz, Sympathie oder Antipathie, das sind allerdings Erlebnisse des astralischen Leibes im Tier; aber das Tier benutzt seine Lust nicht dazu, um zu jauchzen über die Schönheit der Welt, sondern es bleibt innerhalb desjenigen Elementes, das ihm Wohlbehagen gibt. Das Tier lebt in seinem Schmerz unmittelbar; den Menschen führt sein Schmerz hinaus über sich selbst zur Aufklärung über die Welt, weil das Ich ihn wieder hinausleitet und zusammenbringt mit der äußeren Welt. So sehen wir, wie auf der einen Seite der Ätherleib nach dem Innern des Menschen weist zum Astralleib hin, wie das Ich des Menschen aber nach der Außenwelt hinführt, zu der uns umgebenden physischen Welt.

Nun haben wir auch schon öfter betont, daß der Mensch ein Wechselleben führt. Dieses Wechselleben können wir jeden Tag betrachten. Wir sehen in der Seele des Menschen von dem Augenblick, wo er morgens aufwacht, alle die auf und ab flutenden Erlebnisse des astralischen Leibes, Freude und Schmerz, Lust und Leid, Empfindungen, Vorstellungen und so weiter. Wir sehen, wie des Abends diese Erlebnisse in ein unbestimmtes Dunkel hinuntersinken, wie der astralische Leib und das Ich in den Zustand der Unbewußtheit oder, vielleicht besser gesagt, der Unterbewußtheit übergehen. Wir haben auch schon betont, worauf das beruht, daß der Mensch diese Wechselzustände tagtäglich durchmacht. Wenn wir den wachenden Menschen ins Auge fassen, wie er sich vom Morgen bis zum Abend darstellt, so sind ineinander verschlungen, in ihren Wirkungen ineinandergegliedert physischer Leib, Ätherleib, astralischer Leib und Ich. Wenn der Mensch des Abends einschläft, zeigt sich dem okkulten Bewußtsein, daß im Bette liegen bleiben physischer Leib und Ätherleib, und wie in ihre eigentliche Heimat, in die geistige Welt, einkehren astralischer Leib und Ich, die sich aus physischem Leib und Ätherleib herausziehen. Nun können wir uns in gewisser Weise noch eine andere Bezeichnungsweise zurechtrücken, die es möglich machen wird, uns über unsere heutigen Auseinandersetzungen in entsprechender Weise zu verständigen.

Wir können sagen, was wir den physischen Leib genannt haben, und was wir bezeichnen mußten als dasjenige, was uns nur seine Außenseite darbietet, geht als der äußere Mensch im Schlafe nach außen in die physische Welt und nimmt den Ätherleib mit, den Vermittler zwischen dem Äußeren und dem Innern. Daher kann im schlafenden Menschen keine Vermittlung sein zwischen dem Äußeren und dem Innern, weil der Ätherleib, der Vermittler, in die äußere Welt gegangen ist. Wir können daher in gewisser Beziehung sagen, beim schlafenden Menschen sind physischer Leib und Ätherleib eben nur der äußere Mensch; wir können gewissermaßen physischen Leib und Ätherleib überhaupt als den «äußeren Menschen» bezeichnen, wenn auch der Ätherleib von dem Äußeren nach dem Innern der Vermittler ist. Dagegen können wir den astralischen Leib und das Ich beim schlafenden Menschen als den «inneren Menschen» bezeichnen. Und wir können das auch beim wachenden Menschen tun, aus dem Grunde, weil alle Erlebnisse des astralischen Leibes im normalen Zustande innerlich erlebt werden, und weil ja auch dasjenige, was das Ich im wachen Leben von der äußeren Welt erkennen kann, von dem menschlichen Innern aufgenommen wird, um da als Erkenntnis verarbeitet zu werden. Das Äußere wird ein Inneres durch das Ich. Das alles zeigt, daß wir von einem «äußeren» und einem «inneren» Menschen sprechen können; der äußere Mensch aus dem physischen Leib und dem Ätherleib bestehend, der innere Mensch aus Ich und astralischem Leib.

Nun wollen wir einmal das sogenannte normale Menschenleben seinem Sinn nach in seiner Entwickelung betrachten. Wir wollen uns einmal fragen: Warum eigentlich kehrt denn jede Nacht der Mensch mit seinem astralischen Leib und seinem Ich in eine geistige Welt zurück? Hat das einen gewissen Sinn? Hat die Einkehr in den Schlafzustand für den Menschen einen Sinn? — Solche Dinge sind ja hier schon angedeutet worden, aber wir brauchen sie ganz notwendig für unsere heutigen - Auseinandersetzungen. Wir müssen die normale Entwikkelung kennen lernen, um die scheinbar abnormen Naturgesetze, die sich in Krankheit und Heilung darleben, durchschauen zu können. Warum kehrt jede Nacht der Mensch in einen Schlafzustand ein?

Das können wir nur verstehen, wenn wir das ganze Verhältnis des astralischen Leibes und des Ich zu dem, was wir den «äußeren Menschen» genannt haben, uns einmal vor Augen rücken. — Wir haben den astralischen Leib den Träger von Lust und Leid, Freude und Schmerz, von Trieb, Begierde, Leidenschaft genannt, von all den auf und ab wogenden Vorstellungen, Wahrnehmungen, Ideen und Empfindungen. Wenn aber der astralische Leib von all dem der Träger ist, wie kommt es denn, daß in der Nacht der Mensch diese Erlebnisse gar nicht hat, wo doch der eigentliche innere Mensch mit seinem astralischen Leib so zusammen ist, daß physischer Leib und Ätherleib nicht dabei sind? Wie kommt es, daß dann diese Erlebnisse heruntersinken in ein unbestimmtes Dunkel? Was ist der Grund? —- Der Grund ist der, daß astralischer Leib und Ich, obwohl sie Träger sind von Freude und Schmerz, Urteil, Vorstellung und so weiter, nicht alles das direkt erleben können, wovon sie der Träger sind. In unserem Menschenleben sind astralischer Leib und Ich, um ihre eigenen Erlebnisse zu haben, im normalen Zustand darauf angewiesen, in den physischen Leib und Ätherleib unterzutauchen. Was wir als unser Seelenleben vor uns haben, ist nicht etwas, was der astralische Leib unmittelbar erlebt. Wäre es das, so müßten wir es auch in der Nacht erleben, wo wir mit dem astralischen Leib zusammen sind. Es ist gleichsam ein Echo oder Spiegelbild, was wir im Seelenleben des Tages vor uns haben. Physischer Leib und Ätherleib werfen uns wie durch einen Spiegel oder durch ein Echo dasjenige zurück, was wir im astralischen Leibe erleben. Alles was uns unsere Seele vom Augenblicke des Aufwachens bis zum Einschlafen vorzaubert, kann sie uns nur vorzaubern, indem sie ihre eigenen Erlebnisse in jenem Spiegel erblickt, der geformt ist aus dem physischen Leib und dem Äther- oder Lebensleib. In dem Augenblick, wo wir den physischen Leib und Ätherleib in der Nacht verlassen, haben wir zwar in uns alle Erlebnisse des astralischen Leibes, wir sind uns aber ihrer nicht bewußt, weil zum Bewußtwerden die Spiegelung oder Echowirkung von physischem Leib und Ätherleib gehört.

So sehen wir in unserem ganzen Leben, wie es vom Morgen, wo wir aufwachen, bis zum Abend, -wo wir einschlafen, abläuft, eine Wechselwirkung zwischen dem inneren und dem äußeren Menschen, zwischen Ich und astralischem Leib auf der einen Seite und dem physischen Leib und Ätherleib auf der andern Seite. Die Kräfte nun, welche dabei wirken, sind die Kräfte des astralischen Leibes und des Ich. Denn nimmermehr könnte der physische Leib, als eine Summe von physischen Einrichtungen, unser Seelenleben aus sich hervorbringen, und ebensowenig könnte es der Ätherleib. Die Kräfte zum Herauslocken dieses Spiegelbildes kommen aus dem astralischen Leib und dem Ich, geradeso wie das, was wir im Spiegel sehen, nicht aus dem Spiegel kommt, sondern von dem, was sich im Spiegel beschaut. So liegen alle die Kräfte, welche unser Seelenleben bewirken, im astralischen Leib und im Ich, im innern Menschen; und sie betätigen sich in der Wechselwirkung von Außen- und Innenwelt. Diese Kräfte sehen wir während des Tages arbeiten an unserem Seelenleben, in Wechselwirkung treten, gleichsam ausstrahlen nach dem physischen Leib und Ätherleib. Wir sehen sie aber auch gegen den Abend in den Zustand eintreten, den wir die «Ermüdung» nennen. Wir sehen sie abgenutzt gegen den Abend, verbraucht. Und wir würden unser Leben nicht fortführen können, wenn wir nicht in der Lage wären, jeden Abend in eine andere Welt einzukehren als die, in der wir vom Morgen bis zum Abend leben. In dieser Welt, in der wir vom Morgen bis zum Abend leben, können wir das Seelenleben sozusagen aufbauen, vor unsere Seele hinzaubern. Das vermögen wir mit den Kräften des astralischen Leibes. Aber wir verbrauchen auch diese Kräfte und können sie nicht aus dem Tagesleben heraus ersetzen. Ersetzen können wir sie nur aus der geistigen Welt heraus; aus der Welt heraus, in die wir einkehren an jedem Abend. Das ist der Sinn des Schlafes. Wir könnten nicht leben, ohne in die nächtliche Welt einzukehren und von dort her die Kräfte zu holen, die wir tagsüber verbrauchen. So können wir sagen, wir holen uns jede Nacht aus der geistigen Welt diejenigen Kräfte, die wir vom Morgen bis zum Abend verbrauchen. Damit beantworten wir die Frage: Was bringen wir in die physische Welt hinein, wenn wir in unsern Ätherleib und physischen Leib einkehren? - Das also wissen wir jetzt.

Tragen wir nun nichts aus der physischen Welt umgekehrt in die nächtliche Welt hinein? — Das ist die andere Frage, und sie ist ebenso wichtig wie die erste.

Um uns diese Frage zu beantworten, müssen wir allerdings auf einiges eingehen, das uns aber schon das gewöhnliche Menschenleben zeigt. Im gewöhnlichen Leben haben wir sogenannte Erlebnisse. Diese Erlebnisse nehmen einen merkwürdigen Gang in unserem Leben zwischen der Geburt und dem Tode an. Wie stellt sich uns dieser Gang dar? Das können wir an einem Beispiel betrachten, das öfter hier erwähnt worden ist: an dem Beispiel des Schreibenlernens. - Wenn wir die Feder ansetzen, um unsere Gedanken auszudrücken, üben wir die Kunst des Schreibens. Wir können schreiben. Was setzt das aber voraus? Es setzt voraus, daß wir in einer gewissen Zeit des Daseins zwischen Geburt und Tod eine ganze Reihe von Erlebnissen gehabt haben. Denken wir daran, was wir erleben mußten, um imstande zu sein, unsere Gedanken auszudrücken, indem wir die Feder ansetzen und eben «schreiben». Stellen Sie sich vor, was Sie alles als Kind durchgemacht haben, von dem ersten ungeschickten Versuch an, die Feder zu halten und auf dem Papier anzusetzen und so weiter. Da werden Sie vielleicht sagen: Gott sei Dank, daß wir das nicht wieder alles in die Erinnerung zurückrufen müssen! Denn es wäre schlimm, wenn wir uns jedes Mal beim Schreiben an alles erinnern müßten, an alle die verunglückten Versuche, Striche zu machen, vielleicht auch an die Strafen, die damit verbunden waren, und so weiter, um das zu entwickeln, was wir die Kunst des Schreibens nennen. Was ist denn da geschehen? Dasjenige, was wir im eminenten Sinne im Menschenleben eine Entwickelung nennen zwischen Geburt und Tod. Wir haben eine ganze Summe von Erlebnissen durchgemacht. Diese Erlebnisse haben eine lange Zeit in Anspruch genommen; dann sind sie gleichsam zusammengeronnen, haben einen Extrakt gebildet, und dieser Extrakt ist das, was wir als das «Können» des Schreibens bezeichnen. Alles andere ist in ein unbestimmtes Dunkel der Vergessenheit heruntergesunken. Aber wir brauchen uns nicht daran erinnern, weil sich eine Entwickelungsstufe unserer Seele da heraus entwickelt hat. So rinnen unsere Erlebnisse zusammen in Extrakte, in Essenzen, die als unser Können, als unsere Tüchtigkeit und unsere Fähigkeiten im Leben auftreten. Das ist unsere Entwickelung im Dasein zwischen Geburt und Tod. Erlebnisse werden umgewandelt in seelische Fähigkeiten zunächst, die sich allerdings durch äußere körperliche Werkzeuge ausleben können. Alles persönliche Erleben zwischen Geburt und Tod geht so vor sich, daß sich Erlebnisse umwandeln in Fähigkeiten oder auch in das, was wir Weisheit nennen.

Wie die Umwandlung vor sich geht, können wir uns vor die Seele stellen, wenn wir auf den Zeitraum vom Jahre 1770 bis 1815 hinblicken. In ihn fiel ein großes, gewaltiges Ereignis der Weltgeschichte. Eine große Anzahl von Menschen waren Zeitgenossen dieses Ereignisses. Fragen wir uns einmal, wie diese Zeitgenossen sich dazu gestellt haben? - An dem einen sind die Erlebnisse vorübergegangen, ohne daß er sie bemerkt hat — stumpf. Er hat die Erlebnisse nicht umgewandelt in Welterkenntnis, in Weltweisheit. Andere haben tiefe Lebensweisheit, also einen Extrakt sich daraus gebildet.

Wodurch werden aus Erlebnissen Fähigkeiten und Weisheit in der Seele gebildet? Dadurch, daß wir die Erlebnisse, wie sie zunächst an uns herantreten, Abend für Abend mitnehmen in unsern Schlafzustand; in jene Sphären, in denen die Seele oder der innere Mensch weilt zwischen Abend und Morgen. Da wandelt er in Extrakte, in Essenzen um, was Erlebnis über eine gewisse Zeit ist. Wer das Leben beobachten kann, der weiß, wenn er eine Reihe von Erlebnissen beherrschen und zusammenreihen soll in einer einzelnen Kunst, dann ist es notwendig diese Erlebnisse in entsprechenden Schlafzeiten umzuwandeln. Er kann zum Beispiel am besten dadurch etwas auswendig lernen, daß er etwas lernt, es überschläft, es wieder lernt, es wieder überschläft. Wenn er nicht die Erlebnisse eintauchen kann in den Schlafzustand, um sie herauskommen zu lassen als Fähigkeiten oder in der Form von Weisheit oder Kunst, dann ist er nicht imstande, eine Entwickelung in diesen Erlebnissen durchzumachen.

Da tritt uns auf einer höheren Stufe entgegen, was notwendig ist auf einer niederen Stufe: die Pflanze dieses Jahres kann nicht zu der Pflanze des nächsten Jahres werden, wenn sie nicht in das Unbestimmte des Erdenschoßes zurückkehrt und das nächste Jahr wieder wächst. Hier bleibt die Entwickelung eine Wiederholung. Da wo wir es beim Menschen beleuchtet haben, ist es eine wirkliche «Entwickelung»; da werden die Erlebnisse versenkt in den nächtlichen Schoß des Unbewußten, und sie werden wieder herausgeholt - allerdings in einer Wiederholung, aber um endlich so weit umgewandelt zu sein, daß sie als Weisheit, als Fähigkeiten, als Lebenserfahrungen zutage treten können.

So hat man das Leben zu Zeiten verstanden, in denen man tiefer in die geistigen Welten hineinschauen konnte, als das heute eine äußere Betrachtung kann. Daher finden wir da, wo uns Kulturführer der alten Zeiten besondere Dinge im Bilde mitteilen wollen, gerade auf solche merkwürdigen Grundsätze des menschlichen Lebens hingedeutet. Fragen wir uns: Was müßte denn jemand tun, der verhindern wollte, daß eine Reihe von Erlebnissen des Tages nicht in seiner Seele Feuer fangen und sich umwandeln in irgendeine Fähigkeit? Fragen wir das zum Beispiel einem sehr bedeutsamen Erlebnis der Seele gegenüber, jenem Erlebnis, das sich herausbildet, wenn jemand längere Zeit hindurch eine gewisse Beziehung zu einer andern Persönlichkeit erlebt. Diese Erlebnisse mit einer andern Persönlichkeit senken sich in das nächtliche Bewußtsein ein und werden wieder herausgeboren aus dem nächtlichen Bewußtsein als das, was wir die Liebe zu der andern Persönlichkeit nennen, die, wenn sie gesund ist, gleichsam ein Extrakt ist, der aufeinanderfolgenden Erlebnisse. Das Gefühl der Liebe zu der andern Persönlichkeit ist dadurch entstanden, daß sich die Summe der Erlebnisse in einen Extrakt zusammengezogen hat, wie wenn wir die Erlebnisse zu einem Gewebe zusammenformen. — Was müßte nun jemand tun, wenn er verhindern wollte, daß eine Reihe von Erlebnissen zur Liebe werden? — Er müßte eine besondere Kunst anwenden: Er müßte verhindern den naturgemäßen Vorgang in der Nacht, daß sich unsere Erlebnisse umgestalten zu der Essenz, zu dem Liebesgefühl; er müßte das, was das Gewebe der Tageserlebnisse ist, wieder auflösen in der Nacht. Wenn er dazu imstande ist, dann erreicht er das, daß an seiner Seele spurlos vorübergeht, was dazu angetan ist, das Erlebnis zu der andern Persönlichkeit in seiner Seele in Liebesgefühl zu verwandeln.

In diese Tiefen des menschlichen Seelenlebens wollte Homer hineinweisen, indem er das Bild der Penelope hinstellte, die das Erlebnis mit der Ereierschar hat: Sie verspricht einem jeden die Heirat, wenn sie ein bestimmtes Gewebe fertig habe; sie entgeht der Einhaltung des Versprechens nur dadurch, daß sie stets in der Nacht wieder auflöst, was sie bei Tage gewebt hat. — Ungeheure Tiefen der Erlebnisse erblicken wir da, wo Seher zugleich Künstler sind. Man hat heute dafür wenig Gefühl und wird derartige Interpretationen solcher Dichter, die zugleich Seher waren, als willkürlich erklären oder sie wohl auch als Phantastereien auslegen. Das tut den alten Dichtern nichts und auch der Wahrheit nichts, sondern höchstens unserer Zeit, die dadurch verhindert wird, in die Tiefen des menschlichen Lebens hineinzugehen.

Wir nehmen also des Abends etwas mit hinein in die Seele, was wir auch wieder mit heraus bringen. Wir nehmen mit hinein, was die Seele entwickelt zwischen Geburt und Tod und sie zu immer höheren Stufen von Fähigkeiten erhebt. Nun fragen wir uns aber: Wo liegt die Grenze dieser Entwickelung des Menschen? — Diese Grenze können wir kennenlernen, wenn wir uns vor Augen führen, wie der Mensch, wenn er des Morgens aufwacht, jedesmal denselben physischen Leib und denselben Ätherleib vorfindet mit jenen Fähigkeiten und Anlagen, mit jener Konfiguration im Innern, mit denen sie ausgestattet waren von der Geburt des Menschen an. An dieser Konfiguration, an diesen Gestaltungen und inneren Formen des physischen Leibes und des Ätherleibes kann der Mensch nichts ändern. Könnte er in den schlafenden Zustand hinein den physischen Leib, oder wenigstens den Ätherleib mitnehmen, dann könnte er ändern an ihnen. Er trifft sie des Morgens an, wie er sie des Abends verlassen hat. Da haben wir eine deutliche Grenze dessen, was die Entwickelung vermag in dem Leben zwischen Geburt und Tod. Es ist diese Entwickelung zwischen Geburt und Tod im wesentlichen auf das seelische Erleben beschränkt; sie kann nicht übergreifen auf das körperliche Erleben.

Wir brauchen uns nur klar zu sein, wenn jemand noch so viel Gelegenheit hätte, äußere Erlebnisse durchzumachen, die ihn musikalisch vertiefen könnten, die geeignet wären in seiner Seele ein tiefes musikalisches Leben zu entwickeln, er könnte es nicht entwickeln, wenn er kein musikalisches Ohr mitbekommen hätte, wenn die physisch-ätherische Formung seines Ohres es ihm nicht möglich machte, den Einklang herzustellen zwischen dem äußeren und dem inneren Menschen. Wir müssen uns aber darüber klar sein: Damit der Mensch ein Ganzes ist, müssen alle einzelnen Glieder seiner Natur eine Einheit, eine Harmonie bilden. Daher werden wir uns sagen können: Alles was ein Mensch mit einem unmusikalischen Ohr an Gelegenheit hat, Erlebnisse in sich zu empfangen, die ihn hinaufheben können auf eine höhere Stufe des musikalischen Erlebens, das muß in der Seele drinnen bleiben, muß resignieren; es kann nicht heraus, weil die Grenze jeden Morgen gezogen ist in dem, was die mitgebrachte Gestalt und Form der inneren Organe ist. Verstehen werden wir eine solche Sache dann, wenn wir uns klar sind, daß es nicht bloß auf die gröbere Gestaltung des Ätherleibes und des physischen Leibes ankommt, sondern auf ganz feine Konfigurationen dabei. Man muß sich klar sein, daß eine jede Seelenfähigkeit des Menschen in unserem jetzigen normalen Leben sich ausleben muß durch ein Organ; und wenn das Organ nicht in entsprechender Weise geformt ist, kann sie sich nicht ausleben. Was Physiologie, was Anatomie nicht nachweisen können, die feine plastische Gestaltung in den Organen, das ist gerade das Wesentliche; sie entgehen natürlich der Anatomie und Physiologie; aber gerade sie sind es, die einer Umformung zwischen Geburt und Tod nicht fähig sind.

Ist nun der Mensch gänzlich ohnmächtig, dasjenige in seinen physischen Leib und Ätherleib hineinzuarbeiten, was er an Erlebnissen und Erfahrungen in seinem astralischen Leib und seinem Ich aufnimmt?

Wir wissen ja, wenn wir den Menschen betrachten, daß bis zu einem gewissen Grade der Mensch auch an seinem physischen Leibe sogar formen kann. Man braucht nur einen Menschen zu betrachten, der zehn Jahre hindurch sein Leben mit einer tiefen inneren Gedankenarbeit zugebracht hat; da werden sich Gesten und Physiognomien geändert haben. Aber das alles ist gebunden an engste Grenzen. Ist es nun immer an solche engste Grenzen gebunden?

Daß es nicht immer an engste Grenzen gebunden ist, das können wir nur verstehen, wenn wir an ein Gesetz appellieren, von dem hier auch schon öfter gesprochen wurde, worauf aber immer wieder hingewiesen werden muß, weil es unserm zeitgenössischen Leben so fern liegt — ein Gesetz, das sich vergleichen läßt mit dem andern Gesetz, das im 17. Jahrhundert auf einem niedrigeren Gebiete für die Menschheit erobert worden ist.

Bis ins 17. Jahrhundert hinein haben die Menschen geglaubt, es könnten niedere Tiere, Insekten und so weiter aus Flußschlamm herauswachsen. Sie glaubten, daß es bloße Materie sei, welche den Regenwurm und Insekten aus sich herauswachsen ließe. Das war nicht nur ein Glaube von Laien, sondern auch von Gelehrten. Wenn wir in frühere Zeiten zurückgehen, können wir finden, wie alles so systematisiert wurde, daß zum Beispiel angegeben wurde, was man zu tun habe, um rein aus der Umgebung heraus Leben entstehen zu lassen. Da wird zum Beispiel in einem Buche des 7. nachchristlichen Jahrhunderts beschrieben, daß man nur einen Pferdeleichnam mürbe zu schlagen brauche, um Bienen zu erhalten; von Ochsen bekäme man Hornissen, Wespen von Eseln. Da glaubte man, es wächst aus der Substanz der unmittelbaren Umgebung das Lebendige heraus. Und es war erst im 17. Jahrhundert der große Naturforscher Francesco Redi, der zuerst den Satz ausgesprochen hat: Lebendiges kann nur aus Lebendigem entstehen! Wegen dieser Wahrheit, die heute als eine selbstverständliche gilt, so daß kein Mensch begreifen kann, daß man jemals etwas anderes geglaubt hat, wegen dieses Satzes wurde Redi noch im 17. Jahrhundert als ein arger Ketzer betrachtet, der nur mit Mühe und Not dem Schicksal des Giordano Bruno entgangen ist.

So ist es überhaupt mit solchen Wahrheiten: Zuerst galten die, welche sie zu verkünden hatten, als Ketzer, und sie verfielen der Inquisition. Damals kam man mit Verbrennung oder drohte damit. Heute ist man von dieser Art der Inquisition abgekommen. Man verbrennt nicht mehr. Aber diejenigen, welche heute auf dem kurulischen Stuhl der Wissenschaft sitzen, sie betrachten jene Menschen, welche auf einer höheren Stufe eine neue Wahrheit mitteilen, als Narren und Träumer. Als Narren und Träumer werden heute diejenigen betrachtet, welche den Satz, den Francesco Redi im 17. Jahrhundert für das Lebendige aufgestellt hat, in anderer Weise vertreten. Wie Redi darauf hingewiesen hat, daß es eine ungenaue Betrachtungsweise ist, wenn man glaubt, daß aus dem Unlebendigen unmittelbar das Lebendige herauswachsen könne, sondern daß man zurückgehen muß auf ein gleichartiges Lebendiges, auf den Keim, der aus der Umgebung die Substanzen und Kräfte heranzieht, um sich in seinem Sinne zu entfalten — so hat derjenige, der heute auf dem Boden der Geisteswissenschaft steht, zu zeigen, daß das, was mit der Geburt ins Dasein tritt als ein Seelisch-Geistiges, von einem Seelisch-Geistigen gleicher Art herrührt, und daß es sich nicht nur zusammensetzt aus den vererbten Merkmalen. Wie der Regenwurmkeim die Substanzen heranzieht, um sich zu entwickeln, so muß der seelisch-geistige Keim ebenfalls die Substanzen seiner Umgebung heranziehen, um sich zu entfalten. Mit andern Worten, wenn wir das SeelischGeistige im Menschen zurückverfolgen, kommen wir zu einem früheren Seelisch-Geistigen, das vor der Geburt da ist, und das nichts zu tun hat mit Vererbung. Was in letzter Instanz aus dem Satze folgt: Geistig-Seelisches kann nur aus Geistig-Seelischem kommen - das führt hin zu dem Satze von den wiederholten Erdenleben, von dem Sie sich überzeugen können, wenn Sie sich tiefer einlassen auf Geisteswissenschaft. Unser Leben zwischen Geburt und Tod führt zurück auf andere Leben, die wir früher durchgemacht haben. Geistig-Seelisches kommt von Geistig-Seelischem, und in dem Geistig-Seelischen der Vorzeit liegen die Ursachen zu dem, was wir jetzt zwischen Geburt und Tod erleben. Und wenn wir durch die Pforte des Todes gehen, nehmen wir mit, was wir in diesem Leben aufgenommen und aus Ursachen zu Fähigkeiten ausgebildet haben. Das, was wir mitnehmen, wenn wir durch die Pforte des Todes in eine geistig-seelische Welt eintreten, das bringen wir wieder zurück, wenn wir in künftiger Zeit durch eine neue Geburt ins Dasein treten.

Da sind wir zwischen dem Tode und der neuen Geburt in einer andern Lage, als wenn wir jeden Abend durch den Schlafzustand in die geistige Welt hineingehen, aus der wir morgens wieder aufwachen. Wenn wir morgens aufwachen, finden wir unsern Ätherleib und physischen Leib so wieder, wie sie am Abend waren. Wir können in sie nicht hineinarbeiten, was an uns vorübergegangen ist im Leben zwischen Geburt und Tod. Wir haben eine Grenze gefunden an dem fertigen Ätherleib und physischen Leib. Wenn wir aber durch die Pforte des Todes gehen in eine geistige Welt, legen wir den physischen und Ätherleib ab und nehmen vom Ätherleib nur die Essenz mit. Jetzt sind wir in der geistigen Welt und sind jetzt nicht in die Notwendigkeit versetzt, Rücksicht zu nehmen auf einen bestehenden physischen Leib und Ätherleib. In der ganzen Zeit vom Tode bis zur neuen Geburt kann der Mensch mit rein geistigen Kräften arbeiten; denn er hat es da mit rein geistigen Substanzen zu tun. Er nimmt aus der geistigen Welt dasjenige heraus, was er braucht, um ein Urbild eines neuen physischen Leibes und Ätherleibes zu formen, in welches jetzt die Dinge hineingearbeitet werden, die er in den früheren physischen und Ätherleib nicht hineinarbeiten konnte. So bildet der Mensch ein Urbild seines physischen Leibes und Ätherleibes bis zur neuen Geburt heran, ein rein geistiges Urbild, in das hineinverwoben sind die Erlebnisse, in bezug auf welche die Seele resignieren mußte zwischen Geburt und Tod. Dann tritt der Moment ein, wo das Urbild bei seinem Abschluß angelangt ist, und wo der Mensch imstande sein wird, dasjenige, was er in sein Urbild aufgenommen hat, in den plastischen physischen und ätherischen Leib hineinzubilden; dann arbettet das geistige Urbild mit an jenem Schlafzustand, den der Mensch jetzt durchmacht.

Könnte der Mensch den physischen Leib und den ätherischen Leib jeden Morgen beim Aufwachen mitbringen, dann könnte er ihn aus der geistigen Welt heraus formen; dann müßte er ihn aber auch umbilden. Aber mit der Geburt wacht der Mensch aus einem Schlafzustand auf; denn Geburt bedeutet aufwachen aus einem Schlafzustand, der in der Tat den physischen Leib und den Ätherleib im vorgeburtlichen Zustand mitumfaßt. Hier ist es, wo astralischer Leib und Ich hinuntersteigen in die physische Welt, in physischen Leib und Ätherleib, die sie jetzt plastisch ausgestalten können, und wo sie hineinformen können alles, was sie im früheren Leben nicht hineinformen konnten in den fertigen Leib. Jetzt können sie in einem neuen Leben am physischen Leib und Ätherleib das zum Ausdruck bringen, was sie als eine höhere Entwickelungsstufe erklimmen können, was sie aber in dem früheren Leben nicht erklimmen konnten, weil sie der fertige Ätherleib und physische Leib daran gehindert haben.

So sehen wir, wie der Mensch mit der Geburt in der Tat aus der geistigen Welt heraus aufwacht, aber so, daß er sich jetzt andere Kräfte mitbringt, als er sich sonst am Morgen aus dieser selben geistigen Welt heraus mitbringt. Morgens bringen wir uns nur die Kräfte mit, die unser Seelenleben entwickeln können zwischen Geburt und Tod. Da vermögen wir nicht auf unsere anderen Wesensglieder einzuwirken. Wenn wir aber mit der Ge-. burt aus der geistigen Welt heraus ins Dasein treten, bringen wir uns die Kräfte mit, die plastisch umgestaltend wirken auf physischen Leib und Ätherleib, das heißt, die für eine Entwickelung sorgen, in welche physischer Leib und Ätherleib einbezogen werden.

Könnten wir den physischen Leib und Ätherleib nicht zertrümmern, könnte der physische Leib nicht durch den Tod durchgehen, so könnten wir unsere Erlebnisse nicht in die Entwickelung einbeziehen. Hier ist der Punkt, wo wir sagen müssen, wenn wir auch noch so sehr mit Furcht und Schrecken dem Tode entgegenschauen und Leid und Schmerz empfinden vor dem Tode, der uns selber treffen soll, so können wir nur sagen, wenn wir die Welt von einem überpersönlichen Standpunkt aus betrachten: Wir müssen den Tod geradezu wollen! Denn er allein gibt uns die Möglichkeit, diesen Leib zu zertrümmern, um uns einen neuen im nächsten Leben aufzubauen, damit wir alle unsere Erdenfrüchte hineinbringen ins Leben.

So wirken in dem normalen Gang der Menschheitsentwickelung zwei Ströme zusammen: ein innerer und ein äußerer. Diese beiden Strömungen zeigen sich uns nebeneinanderstehend im physischen Leib und Ätherleib auf der einen Seite und im astralischen Leib und Ich auf der andern Seite. -— Was kann der Mensch nun tun zwischen Geburt und Tod in bezug auf physischen Leib und Ätherleib? Nicht nur wird der astralische Leib abgenutzt durch das Seelenleben, sondern es werden auch die Organe des physischen Leibes und des Ätherleibes abgenutzt. Da zeigt sich nun folgendes: Während der astralische Leib in der Nacht in einer geistigen Welt ist, arbeitet er auch zugleich am physischen Leib und am Ätherleib, um sie in jenen Zustand wieder zu bringen, in dem sie normalerweise sind. Nur im nachtschlafenden Zustand kann wieder hergestellt werden im physischen Leib und Ätherleib, was während des Tages zerstört worden ist. So sehen wir, wie allerdings auch an dem physischen Leib und an dem Ätherleib aus der geistigen Welt heraus geschaffen wird. Aber es ist eine Grenze vorhanden: die Anlage und Konfiguration des physischen Leibes und des Ätherleibes sind mit der Geburt gegeben und bleiben innerhalb enger Grenzen dieselben. Wir sehen da gleichsam in der Weltentwickelung zusammenarbeiten zwei Strömungen, welche wir nicht ohne weiteres in abstrakter Weise in Harmonie bringen können. Wer versuchen wollte, mit abstrakten Gedanken diese beiden Strömungen zusammenzudenken, wer leichten Herzens eine Philosophie entwickeln wollte und sagen würde: Nun ja, harmonisch muß der Mensch sein; also müssen die zwei Strömungen beim Menschen in einer Harmonie sein — der würde sich gewaltig irren. Das Leben arbeiter nicht nach Abstraktionen; das Leben arbeitet so, daß dasjenige, was wir in unsern Abstraktionen erträumen, erst nach langen Entwickelungen erreicht werden kann. Das Leben arbeitet so, daß es Gleichgewichtszustände, Harmonien erst dadurch hervorbringt, daß durch Disharmonien hindurchgegangen wird. So ist das lebendige Spiel im Menschen, das durch Gedanken auch gar nicht so ohne weiteres in Einklang gebracht werden soll. Es bedeutet immer ein abstraktes, nüchternes Denken, wenn wir Harmonie hineinträumen wollen, wo sich das Leben durch Disharmonien hindurch zu Gleichgewichtslagen entwickelt. Das ist aber überhaupt das Schicksal der menschlichen Entwickelung, daß uns die Harmonie vorschweben muß als Ziel, das wir aber nicht erreichen, wenn wir es in irgendeimen Zustand der menschlichen Entwickelung bloß hineinträumen.

So wird uns vielleicht auch nicht unverständlich sein, wenn die Geisteswissenschaft sagt, daß das Leben allerdings sich anders ausnimmt, je nachdem wir es betrachten vom Gesichtspunkt des inneren oder des äußeren Menschen aus. Das sind zwei verschiedene Gesichtspunkte. Wer mit irgendeiner Abstraktion diese zwei Gesichtspunkte vereinigen wollte, der würde nicht berücksichtigen, daß es nicht bloß ein Ideal, ein Urteil gibt, sondern so viele Urteile wie Gesichtspunkte, und daß gerade durch das Zusammenwirken der verschiedenen Urteile erst die Wahrheit gefunden werden kann. Daher dürfen wir vermuten, daß der Gesichtspunkt des Lebens in bezug auf den inneren Menschen vielleicht ein anderer ist als in bezug auf den äußeren Menschen. Man könnte ja vielleicht durch einen Vergleich klarmachen, daß die Wahrheiten ganz relative sind, je nach dem sie von da oder dort her betrachtet werden. —

Es ziemt sich ganz gewiß für einen Riesen, der eine Faust hat so groß wie ein kleines Kind, zu sagen: Ich lache mir ins Fäustchen! Ob aber der Zwerg, der geradeso groß ist wie ein kleines Kind, vom Riesen sagen kann: Er lacht sich ins Fäustchen — das ist eine andere Frage. Die Dinge nehmen sich notwendig wie sich ergänzende Wahrheiten aus. Es gibt keine absolute Wahrheit in bezug auf äußere Dinge. Die Dinge müssen von den verschiedensten Gesichtspunkten betrachtet werden, und die Wahrheit muß gefunden werden durch die einzelnen Wahrheiten, die sich gegenseitig beleuchten.

Daher brauchen auch nicht in dem Leben, wie es uns vor Augen tritt, der äußere Mensch, physischer Leib und Ätherleib, und der innere Mensch, Astralleib und Ich, in irgendeiner Entwickelungsepoche des Lebens in einem vollkommenen Einklang zu stehen. Würde der Einklang ein vollkommener sein, dann wäre es so, daß der Mensch, wenn er sich des Abends in die geistige Welt hineinbegibt, die Erlebnisse des Tages mitnähme und sie umgestaltete in regelmäßiger Weise in die Essenzen des Könnens, der Weisheit und so weiter. Es würde dann so sein, daß er die Kräfte, die er aus der geistigen Welt des Morgens, hineinbringt in die physische Welt, in bezug auf das Seelenleben anwendete; aber niemals würde die Grenze überschritten werden, die wir charakterisiert haben, und welche für den physischen Leib gezogen ist. Dann gäbe es aber auch keine menschliche Entwickelung. Der Mensch muß lernen, diese Grenzen selbst zu beachten; er muß sie in sein Urteil aufnehmen. Es muß für ihn im breitesten Umfange die Möglichkeit geben, diese Grenzen zu überschreiten.

Und er überschreitet sie fortwährend! Im wirklichen Leben finden fortwährend Grenzüberschreitungen statt, so daß zum Beispiel der astralische Leib und das Ich, wenn sie auf den physischen Leib wirken, die Grenzen nicht einhalten. Dadurch aber übertreten sie die dem physischen Leibe eingepflanzte Geserzmäßigkeit. Wir schauen dann dasjenige, was an solchen Grenzüberschreitungen geschehen ist, in Unregelmäßigkeiten, in Desorganisationen des physischen Leibes, in dem Hervortreten dessen, was sich darstellt als die Krankheiten, die aus dem Geiste, aus Astralleb und Ich heraus, bewirkt worden sind. - Noch in anderer Weise kann eine Grenze überschritten werden, nämlich dadurch, daß der Mensch als innerer Mensch die Zusammenstimmung mit der äußeren Welt nicht trifft, daß er versagt in bezug auf den vollständigen Einklang mit der äußeren Welt. Wir können uns das an einem drastischen Beispiel klarmachen.

Als vor wenigen Jahren der berühmte Ausbruch des Mont Pel& in Zentralamerika stattgefunden hatte, fand man nachher in den Trümmern ganz merkwürdige, sehr lehrreiche Dokumente. Auf einem stand: Ihr braucht euch nicht mehr zu fürchten, denn die Gefahren sind alle vorüber; es werden keine weiteren Ausbrüche mehr erfolgen! Das zeigen uns die Gesetze, die wir als Naturgesetze erkannt haben. — Diese Dokumente, auf denen geschrieben war, daß weitere vulkanische Ausbrüche unmöglich wären nach der Naturerkenntnis, waren verschüttet worden — und mit ihnen die Gelehrten, die diese Dokumente verfaßt hatten aus der gewöhnlichen Gelehrtenerkenntnis. Wir sehen hier sich ein tragisches Ereignis vollziehen. Aber gerade daran können wir die Disharmonie des Menschen mit der physischen Welt ganz klar sehen. Niemand kann zweifeln, daß der Verstand derjenigen Gelehrten, die diese Naturgesetze erforscht haben, ausgereicht hätte, die Wahrheit zu finden, wenn er nur gehörig ausgebildet worden wäre. Denn an Verstand hat es ihnen nicht gemangelt. Merkwürdig ist es, daß der Verstand dazu gehört, aber daß er doch allein gar nichts machen kann. Denn die Tiere, die vor solchen Katastrophen stehen, wandern aus! Das ist eine bekannte Tatsache. Nur die Haustiere gehen mit dem Menschen zugrunde. Es genügt also der sogenannte tierische Instinkt, um weit mehr an Weisheit gegenüber solchen kommenden Ereignissen zu entwickeln, als die heutige menschliche Weisheit. Dasjenige, was «Verstand» ist, macht es nicht aus; unser heutiger Verstand ist auch bei denjenigen genügend vorhanden, welche die größten Torheiten begehen. Unser Verstand reichte also wohl aus; aber es reichen nicht aus die Erfahrungen aus den Erlebnissen, weil diese nicht gereift sind. In dem Augenblick, wo der Verstand mit engbegrenzten Erlebnissen etwas festsetzt, was ihm plausibel erscheint, da kann er in diese Disharmonie kommen mit den wirklichen äußeren Erlebnissen, und dann brechen die äußeren Erlebnisse über ihm zusammen. Denn es besteht ein Verhältnis zwischen dem physischen Leib und der Welt, das der Mensch nach und nach erkennen und überschauen wird mit den Kräften, die er heute schon hat; aber erst dann wird er es können, wenn er sich Erlebnis über Erlebnis aus der äußeren Welt gesammelt hat und diese Erlebnisse verarbeitet hat. Dann wird an dem, was er aus diesen Erlebnissen entwickelt hat, um völlige Harmonie herzustellen, auch kein anderer Verstand mitgearbeitet haben als der heutige; denn der Verstand ist gerade heute auf einer gewissen Höhe angelangt. Was fehlt, ist die Ausreifung der Erfahrungen und Erlebnisse. Wenn diese Ausreifung der Erlebnisse nicht dem Äußeren entspricht, dann kommt der Mensch in Disharmonie mit der Außenwelt und kann an den Ereignissen der Außenwelt zerbrechen.

Wir haben an einem drastischen Beispiel gesehen, wie die Disharmonie eingetreten ist zwischen dem physischen Leib der betreffenden Gelehrten und dem, was sie in ihrem Innern als ihre Seelenentwickelungs-Stufe erreicht haben. Wir haben dieses Beispiel herangezogen, um unsere Betrachtungen zu verdeutlichen. Diese Disharmonie braucht nicht dadurch aufzutreten, daß gewaltige Ereignisse über uns hereinbrechen; sondern eine solche Disharmonie ist prinzipiell und wesentlich immer dann gegeben, wenn irgendwelche äußeren Schädigungen unsern physischen und Ätherleib treffen; wenn äußere Schädigungen den äußeren Menschen so treffen, daß er nicht imstande ist, durch seine Kräfte von innen diesen äußeren Schädigungen entgegenzuarbeiten, sie aus seinem Leben zu verbannen. Dasselbe ist jedesmal der Fall, wenn irgendeine äußere Schädigung an uns herantritt, sei sie nun äußerlich sichtbar, oder sei sie eine sogenannte innere Schädigung, die aber doch eigentlich eine äußerliche ist; denn wenn wir uns den Magen verderben, so ist das dem Wesen nach ganz dasselbe, als wenn uns ein Ziegelstein auf den Kopf fällt. Es ist der Fall, wenn der Konflikt entsteht, oder entstehen kann zwischen dem inneren Menschen und dem, was von außen an ihn herantritt; wenn der innere Mensch diesem äußeren Menschen nicht gewachsen ist.

Und im Grunde ist jede Krankheit eine solche Diisharmonie, eine solche Grenzüberschreitung zwischen dem inneren und dem äußeren Menschen. Was in einer fernen Zukunft als eine Harmonie erst erreicht werden muß, was ein abstrakter Gedanke bleiben würde, wenn wir es hineinträumen wollten in das Leben, das stellt sich dadurch her, daß tatsächlich fortwährend Grenzüberschreitungen stattfinden. Der Mensch lernt erst dadurch immer reifer in bezug auf sein inneres Leben zu werden, wenn er allmählich sieht, wie er durch das, was er schon erlangt hat, dem äußeren Leben nicht gewachsen ist. Das bezieht sich nicht nur auf die Dinge, welche das Ich durchdringt, sondern auch auf dasjenige, was der astralische Leib durchdringt. Was das Ich durchdringt, erlebt der Mensch bewußt vom Aufwachen bis zum Einschlafen; wie der astralische Leib wirkt, wie er seine Grenzen überschreiten kann und sich ohnmächtig erweisen kann, um eine richtige Harmonie herzustellen zwischen innerem und äußerem Menschen, das entzieht sich zwar dem gewöhnlichen Bewußtsein des Menschen, ist aber dennoch vorhanden. In allen diesen Dingen haben wir das tiefere innere Wesen der Krankheit gegeben.

Welches sind nun die zwei möglichen Ausgänge der Krankheit? — Entweder es tritt Heilung ein, oder die Krankheit endet mit dem Tode. Wie wir die Entwickelung des normalen Lebens betrachten, so können wir hineinstellen Tod auf der einen Seite, Heilung auf der andern Seite.

Was bedeutet nun für die gesamte Entwickelung des Menschen eine Heilung? — Da müssen wir uns klar sein, was für die Gesamtentwickelung des Menschen zunächst die Krankheit ist.

Die Krankheit stellt dar eine Disharmonie zwischen innerem und äußerem Menschen; der innere Mensch kann nicht in Harmonie kommen mit dem äußeren Menschen, wenn Krankheit gegeben ist. Es muß sich in gewisser Weise der innere Mensch zurückziehen aus dem äußeren Menschen. Wir können das am einfachsten sehen, wenn wir uns in den Finger schneiden. — Wir können nur den physischen Leib zerschneiden, nicht den Astralleib. Aber der Astralleib muß fortwährend eingreifen in das gewöhnliche Getriebe, und die Folge ist jetzt, daß der astralische Leib in dem zerschnittenen Finger nicht dasjenige findet, was er finden müßte, wenn er bis in die kleinsten Teile den Finger durchdringen will. Er fühlt sich zurückgestoßen aus dem physischen Fingerteil. Das ist das Wesentliche einer ganzen Summe von Krankheiten, daß der innere Mensch sich vom äußeren zurückgestoßen fühlt, daß er nicht Anteil nehmen kann an dem äußeren Menschen, weil er zerstört ist, weil er ihm durch Schädigung entrissen ist. Nun können wir die Sache so weit bringen, daß wir entweder durch äußere Einwirkungen den äußeren Menschen herstellen — oder den inneren Menschen so stark machen, daß er selbst den äußeren Menschen herstellt; das heißt, es kann Heilung eintreten. Dann wird in einer schwächeren oder stärkeren Art die Verbindung von äußerem und innerem Menschen nach der Heilung wiederum da sein; das heißt, es kann jetzt der innere Mensch in gewisser Weise die Möglichkeit finden, in dem korrigierten äußeren Menschen doch weiter zu leben; er kann wieder eingreifen.

Das ist ein Vorgang, der sich vergleichen läßt mit dem Aufwachen. Es war ein künstliches Zurückgezogensein des inneren Menschen. Jetzt ist ihm neuerdings die Möglichkeit gegeben, im äußeren Menschen das zu erleben, was der Mensch nur in der äußeren Welt erleben kann. Die Heilung gibt dem Menschen die Möglichkeit, zurückzukehren und das hineinzutragen, was er nicht hineintragen könnte, wenn er nicht zurückkehren könnte. Daher wird das, was den Heilungsprozeß ausmacht, aufgenommen in den inneren Menschen und bildet jetzt einen inneren Bestandteil dieses inneren Menschen. Genesung, Heilung ist das, worauf wir mit Befriedigung, mit Genugtuung zurückblicken können, weil wir uns sagen können: Ebenso wie wir beim Einschlafen etwas mitnehmen für den inneren Menschen, wodurch wir ihn höher bringen, so nehmen wir durch die Heilung etwas mit, wodurch wir den inneren Menschen höher bringen. Wenn es auch nicht gleich sichtbar ist, vorhanden ist es: wir werden in unserem inneren Menschen, in unserem seelischen Erleben unter allen Umständen erhöht; wir erfahren eine Steigerung unseres inneren Menschen durch die Genesung. Wir nehmen in die geistige Welt, die wir während des Schlafes durchleben, dasjenige mit, was wir durch die Genesung haben. Die Heilung ist also etwas, was mit hineingeht in den Schlafzustand, was uns stärkt in bezug auf die Kräfte, die wir heranbilden während des Schlafzustandes. — Alles was die geheimnisvollen Beziehungen von Heilung und Schlaf sind, würde sich erläutern lassen, wenn wir Zeit hätten, diese angedeuteten Gedanken ganz auszubreiten. Daraus können Sie schon sehen, wie wir die Heilung gleichstellen können dem, was wir des Abends mit hineinnehmen in die geistige Welt, und was die Entwickelungsvorgänge fördert, insofern sie zwischen Geburt und Tod überhaupt gefördert werden können. Was wir aber aus den äußeren Erlebnissen im normalen Erleben nach innen hineinziehen, das muß in unserem Seelenleben zwischen Geburt und Tod als höhere Entwickelung herauskommen. Doch nicht immer muß dasjenige, was wir als Heilung aufnehmen, herauskommen; wir können es sehr wohl mitnehmen durch die Pforte des Todes, und es kann uns erst in einem nächsten Leben zugute kommen. Was uns aber die Geisteswissenschaft zeigt, ist dies, daß wir einer jeglichen Heilung dankbar sein müssen, denn eine jede Heilung bedeutet eine Erhöhung des inneren Menschen, die wir nur mit den Kräften erreichen, die im Innern aufgenommen werden.

Die andere Frage ist die: Was bedeutet für den Menschen eine Krankheit, die mit dem Tode endet?

In gewisser Weise bedeutet sie das Umgekehrte, daß wir nicht imstande sind, die zerstörte Harmonie zwischen innerem und äußerem Menschen wieder herzustellen; daß wir die Grenze nicht überschreiten können in diesem Leben zwischen dem inneren und dem äußeren Menschen; daß dieses Überschreiten der Grenze in richtiger Art uns in diesem Leben unmöglich ist. Wie wir stille stehen müssen vor dem gesunden Leib am Morgen, wenn wir aufwachen, so müssen wir, wenn eine Krankheit mit dem Tode endet, stille stehen vor dem geschädigten Leib, können nicht wieder eine Änderung an ihm hervorrufen. Wie der gesunde Leib bleibt, wie er ist, und uns am Morgen aufnimmt, so nimmt uns der geschädigte Leib nicht auf, das heißt, wir müssen mit dem Tode endigen. Wir müssen diesen Leib verlassen, weil wir nicht imstande sind, die Harmonie wieder herzustellen. Dafür aber nehmen wir diese Erlebnisse nunmehr mit in die geistige Welt, die wir betreten, ohne daß wir einen äußeren Leib zur Verfügung haben. Was wir als Frucht in uns aufgenommen haben, daß uns ein geschädigter Körper nicht wieder aufnimmt, das wird eine Bereicherung desjenigen Lebens, das zwischen dem Tode und einer neuen Geburt verläuft. So müssen wir also auch einer Krankheit, die mit dem Tode endet, dankbar sein, weil sie uns die Möglichkeit bietet zu einer Steigerung unseres Lebens zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt, um die Kräfte und Erfahrungen zu sammeln, die nur zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt ausreifen können.

Da haben wir die seelische Konsequenz einer Krankheit, die mit dem Tode endet, und die seelische Konsequenz einer Krankheit, die mit Heilung endet. In das ganze innere Leben greifen die Heilungsprozesse ein und bringen uns vorwärts; in alles, was die Entwickelung in einer äußeren Welt bedeutet, greifen die Krankheiten ein, die mit dem Tode enden. Das gibt uns zwei Gesichtspunkte: Wir können einer Krankheit, die mit einer Heilung endet, dankbar sein, weil wir durch sie in unserem Innern stärker geworden sind; und wir können einer Krankheit, die mit dem Tode endet, dankbar sein, weil wir wissen: Wenn wir uns auf eine höhere Stufe erheben in dem Leben zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt, so wird der Tod für uns von unendlicher Wichtigkeit sein, und wir haben dann gelernt, daß unser Leib nicht so sein darf, wenn wir ihn wieder aufbauen. Und wir werden jene Schädigungen vermeiden, an denen wir gescheitert sind.

So haben wir in der Tat die Notwendigkeit, uns auf zwei Gesichtspunkte zu stellen. Keinem Menschen sollte es einfallen, etwa aus der Geisteswissenschaft heraus zu sagen: Wenn der Tod, mit dem eine Krankheit endet, etwas ist, dem wir dankbar sein müssen, wenn der tödliche Ausgang einer Krankheit etwas ist, was uns im nächsten Leben höher bringt, dann müßten wir die Krankheit mit dem Tode endigen lassen und sie nicht heilen! - Wer das sagte, spräche nicht im Sinne wahrer Geisteswissenschaft, denn eine solche hat es nicht mit Abstraktionen zu tun, sondern mit denjenigen Wahrheiten, die von den verschiedensten Gesichtspunkten gewonnen werden. Wir haben die Pflicht, mit allen Mitteln, die uns zu Gebote stehen, für die Heilung zu sorgen. Innerhalb des menschlichen Bewußtseins liegt die Aufgabe zu heilen, so viel man kann. Denn der Standpunkt, daß wir auch dem Tode dankbar sein können, wenn er eingetreten ist, ist nicht ein solcher, der in das gewöhnliche menschliche Bewußtsein hineinfällt, sondern der nur gewonnen werden kann, wenn man über das gewöhnliche Menschheitsbewußtsein sich erhebt. Von einem «Götter-Standpunkt» aus ist es berechtigt, diese oder jene Krankheit mit dem Tode endigen zu lassen; vom menschlichen Standpunkt aus ist es nur berechtigt, alles aufzuwenden, was die Heilung herbeiführen kann. Eine Krankheit, die mit dem Tode endet, muß von einem andern Gesichtspunkt aus beurteilt werden. Zwischen diesen zwei Gesichtspunkten gibt es zunächst keine Vereinigung; sie müssen nebeneinander hergehen. Alles abstrakte Harmonisieren nützt hier nichts. Die Geisteswissenschaft muß vordringen zu der Anerkennung solcher Wahrheiten, die von einer gewissen Seite das Leben darstellen, und anderer Wahrheiten, die es von einer andern Seite darstellen.

Richtig ist der Satz: Heilung ist gut! Heilung ist Pflicht! - Richtig ist aber auch der andere Satz: Der Tod ist gut, wenn er als das Ende einer Krankheit auftritt; der Tod ist wohltätig für die gesamte menschliche Entwickelung! — Trotzdem sich beide Sätze widersprechen, enthalten sie beide lebendige Wahrheiten für das lebendige Erkennen. Gerade wo in das Menschenleben zwei solche Strömungen hineinleuchten, die sich erst harmonisieren müssen, sehen wir, wie wir nicht schablonisieren und systematisieren dürfen, sondern daß wir das Leben im breitesten Umfange betrachten müssen. Klar müssen wir uns sein, daß sogenannte Widersprüche, wenn sie nur auf Erfahrung, auf Erleben und auf tieferer Erkenntnis der Sache beruhen, unsere Erkenntnis nicht beeinträchtigen, sondern daß sie uns gerade nach und nach in eine lebensvolle Erkenntnis hineinführen, weil das Leben selber sich zu Harmonie entwickelt.

Das normal verlaufende Leben schlingt sich so fort, daß wir aus Erlebnissen uns Fähigkeiten bilden, und daß wir aus dem, was wir zwischen Geburt und Tod nicht innerlich verarbeiten können, dasjenige weben, was wir dann zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt verarbeiten können. In diesen normalen Gang des Menschenlebens schlingen sich Heilung und tödliche Krankheit so hinein, daß eine jede Heilung ein Beitrag ist, um den Menschen hiinaufzuführen zu höheren Stufen, und daß eine jede tödliche Krankheit den Menschen wiederum hinaufführt auf eine höhere Stufe; einmal in bezug auf den inneren, das andere Mal in bezug auf den äußeren Menschen. So schreitet die Welt vorwärts, indem sie nicht in einer, sondern in zwei entgegengesetzten Strömungen fortschreitet. Gerade an Krankheit und Heilung zeigt sich uns die ganze Kompliziertheit des menschlichen Lebens. Wäre nicht Krankheit und nicht Heilung, so würde das normale Leben nur so verlaufen können, daß der Mensch am Gängelbande des Daseins sein Leben fortspänne, immer an der Grenze stehen bliebe, und sozusagen aus der geistigen Welt heraus zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt sich die Kräfte geben lassen müßte, um seinen Organismus neu aufzubauen. Da würde der Mensch nie die Früchte seiner eigenen Arbeit an der Weltentwickelung entfalten können. Diese Früchte kann der Mensch in den engeren Grenzen des Lebens nur dadurch entfalten, daß er irren kann; denn nur dadurch, daß man weiß, welches der Irrtum ist, kommt man zu einer Überzeugung der Wahrheit. Die Wahrheit so aufnehmen, daß sie die eigene Angelegenheit der Seele wird, daß sie hineingreift in die Entwickelung, das kann man nur, wenn man die Wahrheit aus dem Mutterboden des Irrtums herausholt. Gesundheit könnte der Mensch auch haben, wenn er nicht mit seinen eigenen Fehlern und Unvollkommenheiten durch Grenzüberschreitungen eingriffe ins Leben. Eine Gesundheit, die so zustande kommt wie die innerlich erkannte Wahrheit, eine Gesundheit, die sich der Mensch von Inkarnation zu Inkarnation durch sein eigenes Leben selbst erringt, eine solche Gesundheit kommt durch die realen Irrtümer, durch die Krankheiten zustande, also dadurch, daß der Mensch auf der einen Seite lernt, seine realen Irrtümer und Fehler in der Heilung zu überwinden, und auf der andern Seite dadurch, daß er in dem Leben zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt auf diejenigen Fehler hingestoßen wird, die er in einem Leben nicht gutmachen konnte, damit er lernt, sie in dem nächsten Leben gut zu machen.

Wir können jetzt wiederum anknüpfen an unser drastisches Beispiel und können sagen: Der Verstand jener Gelehrten, welche damals so falsch prophezeit haben, wird nicht bloß vorsichtig werden, um nicht so schnell zu urteilen, sondern er wird die Erlebnisse ausreifen lassen, um nach und nach Harmonie herzustellen mit dem Leben.

So sehen wir, wie Heilung und Krankheit in das Menschenleben eingreifen und zu dem führen, ohne das der Mensch sein Ziel nie als sein eigenes erreichen könnte. Wenn wir so Krankheit und Heilung betrachten, können wir sehen, wie das scheinbar abnorme Eingreifen in unsere Entwickelung — und dazu gehört Krankheit und Heilung und der tödliche Ausgang der Krankheit zum menschlichen Dasein gehört, wie der Irrtum dazu gehört, wenn wir die Wahrheit erkennen wollen. Wir könnten in bezug auf Krankheit und Heilung dasselbe sagen, was ein großer Dichter in einer wichtigen Epoche über den menschlichen Irrtum gesagt hat: «Es irrt der Mensch, so lang’ er strebt!» Das könnte unter Umständen so erscheinen, als ob der Dichter hätte sagen wollen: Es irrt der Mensch immer! — Der Satz ist aber umkehrbar, und wir können ihn so aussprechen: Es strebe der Mensch, so lange er irrt! — Der Irrtum gebiert ein neues Streben. Der Satz: «Es irrt der Mensch, so lang’ er strebt!» braucht uns daher durchaus nicht mit Trostlosigkeit zu erfüllen; denn jeder Irrtum erzeugt neues Streben, und der Mensch wird so lange streben, bis er über den Irrtum hinaus ist. Das heißt, der Irrtum selber führt über sich hinaus zur menschlichen Wahrheit! Und ebenso können wir sagen: Es mag der Mensch erkranken, so lange er sich entwickelt! Durch die Krankheit entwickelt er sich zugleich zur Gesundheit. So strebt die Krankheit in der Heilung, und sogar im Tode über sich selbst hinaus und erzeugt die Gesundheit nicht als ein dem Menschen Fremdes, sondern als eine aus dem Menschenwesen selbst herausgewachsene, mit diesem Menschenwesen übereinstimmende Gesundheit.

Alles, was in solch merkwürdigen und bedeutungsvollen Gebieten erscheint, ist wohl geeignet, uns zu zeigen, wie die ganze Welt in ihrer Weisheit so eingerichtet ist, daß der Mensch in allen Entwickelungsmomenten die Gelegenheit findet, über sich selbst hinauszuwachsen — ganz im Sinne jenes Satzes von Angelus Silesius, mit dem wir den Vortrag «Was ist Mystik?» beschließen konnten. Wir wandten ihn damals auf die intimere Entwickelung an; jetzt können wir ihn ausdehnen in bezug auf das weite Gebiet von Krankheit und Heilung und können sagen, selbst da zeigt sich uns wahrhaftig:

Wann du dich über dich erhebst und Gott läßt walten:
So wird in deinem Geist die Himmelfahrt gehalten!

Illness and Healing

From the lectures I have been privileged to give here this winter, it will have been clear to those who have been more or less regular listeners that this series of lectures has dealt with a number of profound questions of the soul. Today's presentation, too, will be given from the perspective of a question of the soul: the presentation on the nature of illness and the nature of healing.

What spiritual science has to say about the corresponding facts of life, insofar as they are merely physical expressions of spiritual causes, has been discussed in earlier lectures — for example, in the lecture “How to Understand Illness and Death,” on “Illness Mania” and “Health Fever.” Today we will deal with much deeper questions in the understanding of illness and healing.

Illness, healing, or even the fatal outcome of this or that illness have a profound impact on human life. And if we have repeatedly asked ourselves about all the preconditions, about the spiritual foundations of the things that underlie our considerations here, then we may well also ask about the spiritual causes of these decisive facts and experiences of human existence. In other words, we may raise the question: What does spiritual science have to say about these experiences?

Here, of course, we will once again have to look deeply into the whole meaning of the development of human life in order to understand how illness, health, death, and healing can intervene in the normal course of human development. For, basically, we see the phenomena mentioned above intervening, as it were, in the normal development of the human being. Do they perhaps contribute something to our development? In other words, do they drive us forward or backward in our development? We can only arrive at a clear understanding of these phenomena if we also consider the whole nature of the human being.

We have often described this overall nature here as being composed of the four real members of the human being: first, the physical body, which humans share with all the mineral beings in their environment, which derive their forms from the physical and chemical forces and laws inherent in them. We have always called the second member of the human being the etheric or life body, and we could say that, in the way we speak of it, human beings share it with all living things, that is, with the plant and animal beings in their environment. Then we pointed to the astral body, which human beings have as the third member of their being; it is the bearer of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, of all the feelings, ideas, thoughts, and so on that ebb and flow within us from morning to night. Human beings only share this astral body with the animal world around them. And then we have always considered the highest member of the human being, which makes him the crown of earthly creation, the bearer of his ego, his self-consciousness. When we consider these four members, we can first say to ourselves: even on superficial observation, a certain difference between these four members appears to us. We see the physical human body when we look at human beings, when we look at ourselves from the outside. The outer physical sense organs can perceive what we call the physical human body. With the thinking connected to these physical organs, that is, with the thinking connected to the instrument of the brain, we can comprehend this physical body of the human being. It therefore reveals itself to us when we look at it from the outside.

The relationship to the human astral body is quite different. We have already recognized from the previous descriptions that only for true clairvoyant consciousness is the astral body, so to speak, an external fact; that only this consciousness, through the training of consciousness that has already been characterized several times, can see the astral body in a certain way, just as it sees the physical body. In normal life, the astral body of the human being is not perceptible from the outside; the eye can only see the manifestations of the impulses, desires, passions, thoughts, feelings, and so on that surge up and down within it. On the other hand, the human being himself perceives these experiences of his astral body within himself. He perceives what we call drives, desires, passions, joy and pain, pleasure and suffering. We can therefore say that the astral body relates to the physical body in such a way that in normal human life we see the former from within, but the physical body from without.

In a certain sense, the other two members of human nature, the etheric body and the bearer of the ego, stand between these two extremes. The physical body can be perceived purely externally, the astral body purely internally. But the middle member between the physical body and the astral body is the etheric body. It cannot be perceived from the outside, but it acts outwardly. In ordinary human life, it acts outwardly in such a way that we can say: whatever the astral body develops in terms of forces and inner experiences must first be transferred to the etheric body; only then can it intervene in the physical instruments, in the physical body. Thus, the etheric body acts as a middle link between the astral body and the physical body. This etheric or life body thus leads from the outside to the inside. We can no longer see it with our physical eyes. But what we can see with our physical eyes is only a tool of the astral body because the etheric body works outwardly into the physical body.

In a certain sense, what we call the human ego now goes from the inside to the outside — while the etheric body goes from the outside to the inside to the astral body. For through the ego, and what it makes of the astral body, the human being becomes a knower of the outer world, the physical environment from which the physical body itself is taken. Animal life proceeds without individual, personal knowledge, because animals do not have this personal ego; because animals experience all their astral body experiences internally, but do not use their pleasure and pain, sympathy or antipathy to gain knowledge of the outer world. What we call pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, sympathy or antipathy, are indeed experiences of the astral body in the animal; but the animal does not use its pleasure to rejoice in the beauty of the world, but remains within the element that gives it comfort. Animals live directly in their pain; human beings' pain leads them beyond themselves to enlightenment about the world, because the ego leads them out again and brings them together with the outer world. Thus we see how, on the one hand, the etheric body points to the inner being of the human being, to the astral body, but how the human ego leads to the outer world, to the physical world that surrounds us.

We have often emphasized that human beings lead a dual life. We can observe this dual life every day. From the moment a person wakes up in the morning, we see in their soul all the fluctuating experiences of the astral body, joy and pain, pleasure and suffering, sensations, ideas, and so on. We see how in the evening these experiences sink into an indefinite darkness, how the astral body and the I pass into a state of unconsciousness or, perhaps better said, subconsciousness. We have already emphasized the reason why human beings go through these alternating states every day. When we look at the waking human being as he or she presents himself or herself from morning to evening, we see that the physical body, the etheric body, the astral body, and the I are intertwined and interlinked in their effects. When the human being falls asleep in the evening, it becomes apparent to occult consciousness that the physical body and etheric body remain in bed, while the astral body and I, which withdraw from the physical body and etheric body, return to their true home, the spiritual world. Now we can, in a certain way, adjust another way of describing things, which will make it possible for us to communicate about our current discussions in an appropriate manner.

We can say that what we have called the physical body, and what we have had to describe as that which presents only its outer side to us, goes out into the physical world as the outer human being during sleep, taking with it the etheric body, the mediator between the outer and the inner. Therefore, in the sleeping human being, there can be no mediation between the outer and the inner, because the etheric body, the mediator, has gone out into the outer world. We can therefore say, in a certain sense, that in the sleeping human being, the physical body and the etheric body are just the outer human being; we can, in a sense, describe the physical body and etheric body as the “outer human being,” even though the etheric body is the mediator between the outer and the inner. In contrast, we can describe the astral body and the I in a sleeping human being as the “inner human being.” And we can do the same with the waking human being, because all the experiences of the astral body are experienced inwardly in the normal state, and because what the I can recognize from the outer world in waking life is also taken in by the human inner being in order to be processed there as knowledge. The external becomes internal through the ego. All this shows that we can speak of an “outer” and an “inner” human being; the outer human being consisting of the physical body and the etheric body, the inner human being consisting of the ego and the astral body.

Now let us consider the meaning of so-called normal human life in its development. Let us ask ourselves: Why does the human being return to a spiritual world every night with his astral body and his I? Does this have a certain meaning? Does entering the state of sleep have a meaning for the human being? — Such things have already been hinted at here, but we need them quite necessarily for our discussions today. We need to understand normal development in order to comprehend the seemingly abnormal laws of nature that manifest themselves in illness and healing. Why do human beings enter a state of sleep every night?

We can only understand this if we consider the whole relationship of the astral body and the ego to what we have called the “outer human being.” We have called the astral body the bearer of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, of instinct, desire, passion, of all the fluctuating imaginations, perceptions, ideas, and sensations. But if the astral body is the bearer of all this, how is it that at night the human being does not have these experiences at all, when the actual inner human being is so closely connected with his astral body that the physical body and etheric body are not present? How is it that these experiences then sink down into an indefinite darkness? What is the reason? —- The reason is that although the astral body and the I are the bearers of joy and pain, judgment, imagination, and so on, they cannot directly experience everything of which they are the bearers. In our human life, in order to have their own experiences, the astral body and the I are normally dependent on submerging themselves in the physical body and etheric body. What we have before us as our soul life is not something that the astral body experiences directly. If it were, we would also have to experience it at night, when we are together with the astral body. What we have before us in our soul life during the day is, as it were, an echo or mirror image. The physical body and etheric body reflect back to us, as if through a mirror or an echo, what we experience in the astral body. Everything that our soul conjures up for us from the moment we wake up until we fall asleep can only be conjured up by seeing its own experiences in that mirror, which is formed from the physical body and the etheric or life body. At the moment when we leave the physical body and etheric body at night, we do have all the experiences of the astral body within us, but we are not aware of them because becoming aware requires the reflection or echo effect of the physical body and etheric body.

Thus, throughout our entire life, from the morning when we wake up to the evening when we fall asleep, we see an interaction between the inner and outer human beings, between the ego and the astral body on the one hand and the physical body and etheric body on the other. The forces at work here are the forces of the astral body and the ego. For the physical body, as a sum of physical structures, could never bring forth our soul life from itself, and neither could the etheric body. The forces that bring forth this mirror image come from the astral body and the ego, just as what we see in the mirror does not come from the mirror, but from what is looking into the mirror. Thus, all the forces that bring about our soul life lie in the astral body and in the ego, in the inner human being; and they are active in the interaction between the outer and inner worlds. We see these forces at work on our soul life during the day, interacting, radiating, as it were, to the physical body and etheric body. But we also see them entering a state in the evening that we call “fatigue.” We see them worn out in the evening, exhausted. And we would not be able to continue our lives if we were not able to enter a different world every evening than the one in which we live from morning to evening. In this world, in which we live from morning to evening, we can build up our soul life, conjure it up before our soul, so to speak. We can do this with the powers of the astral body. But we also use up these powers and cannot replace them from our daily life. We can only replace them from the spiritual world; from the world into which we enter every evening. That is the meaning of sleep. We could not live without entering the night world and drawing from it the forces we use up during the day. So we can say that every night we draw from the spiritual world the forces we use from morning to evening. This answers the question: What do we bring into the physical world when we enter our etheric and physical bodies? - So now we know that.

Do we not carry anything from the physical world back into the night world? — That is the other question, and it is just as important as the first.

To answer this question, we must consider something that is already evident in ordinary human life. In ordinary life, we have what we call experiences. These experiences take a remarkable course in our lives between birth and death. How does this course appear to us? We can consider this using an example that has often been mentioned here: the example of learning to write. When we put pen to paper to express our thoughts, we are practicing the art of writing. We can write. But what does this presuppose? It presupposes that we have had a whole series of experiences during a certain period of our existence between birth and death. Let us think about what we had to experience in order to be able to express our thoughts by putting pen to paper and “writing.” Imagine everything you went through as a child, from your first clumsy attempts to hold a pen and put it to paper, and so on. You might say: Thank God we don't have to recall all that again! For it would be terrible if we had to remember everything every time we wrote, all the failed attempts to make strokes, perhaps also the punishments that went with them, and so on, in order to develop what we call the art of writing. What happened there? What we call, in the eminent sense, development in human life between birth and death. We have gone through a whole series of experiences. These experiences took a long time; then they coalesced, as it were, forming an extract, and this extract is what we call the “ability” to write. Everything else has sunk into the vague darkness of oblivion. But we do not need to remember it, because a stage of development of our soul has emerged from it. Thus our experiences flow together into extracts, into essences, which appear as our skills, our abilities, and our talents in life. This is our development in existence between birth and death. Experiences are transformed into soul abilities at first, which can, however, be lived out through external physical tools. All personal experience between birth and death takes place in such a way that experiences are transformed into abilities or into what we call wisdom.

We can visualize how this transformation takes place when we look at the period from 1770 to 1815. During this time, a great and momentous event in world history took place. A large number of people were contemporaries of this event. Let us ask ourselves how these contemporaries responded to it. For some, the experiences passed them by without them noticing — they were dull. They did not transform the experiences into knowledge of the world, into worldly wisdom. Others formed a deep wisdom of life, an extract from it.

How are experiences transformed into abilities and wisdom in the soul? By taking the experiences, as they first come to us, with us into our sleep state every evening; into those spheres where the soul or the inner human being dwells between evening and morning. There, it transforms what has been experienced over a certain period of time into extracts, into essences. Anyone who can observe life knows that if they are to master a series of experiences and string them together in a single art, it is necessary to transform these experiences during appropriate periods of sleep. For example, the best way to memorize something is to learn it, sleep on it, learn it again, and sleep on it again. If they cannot immerse their experiences in the state of sleep in order to let them emerge as skills or in the form of wisdom or art, then they are unable to undergo development in these experiences.

At a higher level, we encounter what is necessary at a lower level: this year's plant cannot become next year's plant unless it returns to the uncertainty of the earth's womb and grows again next year. Here, development remains a repetition. Where we have illuminated this in human beings, it is a real “development”; there, experiences are sunk into the nightly womb of the unconscious, and they are brought out again — admittedly in a repetition, but in order to finally be transformed to such an extent that they can emerge as wisdom, as abilities, as life experiences.

This is how life was understood in times when it was possible to look deeper into the spiritual worlds than is possible today through external observation. Therefore, when cultural leaders of ancient times wanted to communicate special things to us in images, we find references to precisely such remarkable principles of human life. Let us ask ourselves: What would someone have to do to prevent a series of experiences during the day from catching fire in their soul and transforming into some kind of ability? Let us ask this, for example, in relation to a very significant experience of the soul, the experience that develops when someone experiences a certain relationship with another personality over a longer period of time. These experiences with another personality sink into the nightly consciousness and are reborn from the nightly consciousness as what we call love for the other personality, which, when it is healthy, is, as it were, an extract of successive experiences. The feeling of love for the other personality has arisen because the sum of the experiences has been condensed into an extract, as if we were weaving the experiences together into a fabric. — What would someone have to do if they wanted to prevent a series of experiences from turning into love? — They would have to apply a special art: they would have to prevent the natural process at night whereby our experiences are transformed into the essence, into the feeling of love; they would have to dissolve the fabric of the day's experiences again at night. If they are able to do this, they will achieve that which is capable of transforming the experience into a feeling of love for the other personality in their soul will pass over their soul without a trace.

Homer wanted to point to these depths of human soul life by presenting the image of Penelope, who has the experience with the suitors: she promises each of them marriage when she has finished a certain piece of weaving; she only escapes keeping her promise by always unraveling at night what she has woven during the day. — We see tremendous depths of experience where seers are also artists. Today, people have little feeling for this and will declare such interpretations by poets who were also seers to be arbitrary or even interpret them as fantasies. This does not harm the ancient poets or the truth, but at most our time, which is thereby prevented from entering into the depths of human life.

So in the evening we take something into our soul that we also bring out again. We take in what the soul develops between birth and death and raises it to ever higher levels of ability. But now we ask ourselves: Where is the limit of this human development? — We can learn about this limit when we consider how, when a person wakes up in the morning, they always find the same physical body and the same etheric body with the same abilities and predispositions, with the same inner configuration with which they were endowed at birth. Human beings cannot change this configuration, these structures and inner forms of the physical body and etheric body. If they could take their physical body, or at least their etheric body, with them into the sleeping state, then they could change them. They encounter them in the morning as they left them in the evening. Here we have a clear limit to what development can achieve in the life between birth and death. This development between birth and death is essentially limited to the soul experience; it cannot extend to the physical experience.

We need only be clear that even if someone had every opportunity to undergo external experiences that could deepen their musicality, that would be suitable for developing a deep musical life in their soul, they would not be able to develop it if they had not been given a musical ear, if the physical-etheric formation of their ear did not enable them to establish harmony between the outer and inner human beings. But we must be clear about this: for a human being to be whole, all the individual parts of their nature must form a unity, a harmony. Therefore, we can say to ourselves: Everything that a person with an unmusical ear has the opportunity to receive within themselves, experiences that can lift them up to a higher level of musical experience, must remain inside the soul, must resign itself; it cannot come out because the boundary is drawn every morning in the shape and form of the inner organs that they have been given. We will understand such a thing when we realize that it is not only the coarser structure of the etheric body and the physical body that matters, but also the very fine configurations involved. It must be clear that every soul capacity of the human being in our present normal life must be lived out through an organ; and if the organ is not formed in the appropriate way, it cannot be lived out. What physiology and anatomy cannot prove, the fine plastic formation in the organs, is precisely the essential thing; it naturally escapes anatomy and physiology, but it is precisely this that is incapable of transformation between birth and death.

Is the human being now completely powerless to work into his physical body and etheric body what he takes in as experiences in his astral body and his ego?

We know, when we observe human beings, that to a certain degree the human being can even shape his physical body. One need only observe a person who has spent ten years of their life engaged in deep inner thought work; their gestures and physiognomy will have changed. But all this is bound by the narrowest of limits. Is it always bound by such narrow limits?

That it is not always bound by the narrowest of limits we can only understand if we appeal to a law that has already been mentioned here several times, but which must be pointed out again and again because it is so far removed from our contemporary life — a law that can be compared to the other law that was conquered for humanity in the 17th century in a lower realm.

Until the 17th century, people believed that lower animals, insects, and so on could grow out of river mud. They believed that it was mere matter that caused earthworms and insects to grow out of it. This was not only a belief of lay people, but also of scholars. If we go back to earlier times, we can find how everything was systematized, for example, by specifying what had to be done to create life purely from the environment. For example, a book from the 7th century AD describes how one only needed to beat a horse carcass to a pulp to obtain bees; oxen would produce hornets, and donkeys would produce wasps. People believed that living things grew out of the substance of their immediate surroundings. It was not until the 17th century that the great naturalist Francesco Redi first uttered the sentence: Living things can only arise from living things! Because of this truth, which is taken for granted today, so that no one can understand that people ever believed anything else, because of this statement, Redi was still considered a terrible heretic in the 17th century, who only narrowly escaped the fate of Giordano Bruno.

This is how it is with such truths: at first, those who proclaimed them were considered heretics and fell prey to the Inquisition. At that time, they were burned or threatened with burning. Today, this type of inquisition has been abandoned. People are no longer burned. But those who sit on the curule chair of science today regard those who communicate a new truth on a higher level as fools and dreamers. Today, those who represent the statement that Francesco Redi made in the 17th century about living things in a different way are considered fools and dreamers. As Redi pointed out, it is an inaccurate way of looking at things to believe that the living can grow directly out of the non-living, but that one must go back to a similar living thing, to the germ that draws substances and forces from its environment in order to develop in its own sense — so those who stand on the ground of spiritual science today must show that what comes into being at birth as a soul-spiritual entity originates from a soul-spiritual entity of the same kind, and that it is not composed solely of inherited characteristics. Just as the earthworm germ draws on substances in order to develop, so too must the soul-spiritual germ draw on substances from its environment in order to unfold. In other words, when we trace the soul-spiritual in human beings, we arrive at an earlier soul-spiritual that is present before birth and has nothing to do with heredity. What ultimately follows from the statement: Spiritual-soul can only come from spiritual-soul — this leads to the statement about repeated earthly lives, which you can convince yourself of if you delve deeper into spiritual science. Our life between birth and death leads back to other lives we have lived before. Spiritual-soul qualities come from spiritual-soul qualities, and in the spiritual-soul qualities of the past lie the causes of what we now experience between birth and death. And when we pass through the gate of death, we take with us what we have absorbed in this life and developed from causes into abilities. What we take with us when we pass through the gate of death into a spiritual-soul world, we bring back again when we enter into existence in future time through a new birth.

Between death and new birth, we are in a different situation than when we enter the spiritual world every evening through sleep, from which we wake up again in the morning. When we wake up in the morning, we find our etheric body and physical body as they were in the evening. We cannot work into them what has passed us by in life between birth and death. We have found a boundary in the finished etheric body and physical body. But when we pass through the gate of death into a spiritual world, we lay aside the physical and etheric bodies and take only the essence of the etheric body with us. Now we are in the spiritual world and are no longer compelled to take into account an existing physical body and etheric body. During the entire period from death to new birth, the human being can work with purely spiritual forces, for he is dealing with purely spiritual substances. They take from the spiritual world what they need to form an archetype of a new physical body and etheric body, into which they now incorporate the things that they could not incorporate into their previous physical and etheric bodies. In this way, the human being forms an archetype of their physical body and etheric body until the new birth, a purely spiritual archetype into which are woven the experiences in relation to which the soul had to resign itself between birth and death. Then comes the moment when the archetype reaches its completion and when the human being will be able to form what he has incorporated into his archetype into the plastic physical and etheric body; then the spiritual archetype works together with the state of sleep that the human being is now going through.

If human beings could bring their physical and etheric bodies with them every morning when they wake up, they could shape them from the spiritual world; but then they would also have to reshape them. But with birth, the human being awakens from a state of sleep; for birth means awakening from a state of sleep that in fact encompasses the physical body and the etheric body in their pre-birth state. This is where the astral body and the I descend into the physical world, into the physical body and etheric body, which they can now shape plastically, and where they can form into it everything that they could not form into the finished body in their previous life. Now, in a new life, they can express in the physical body and etheric body what they can ascend to as a higher stage of development, but which they could not ascend to in their previous life because the finished etheric body and physical body prevented them from doing so.

Thus we see how, at birth, human beings do indeed awaken from the spiritual world, but in such a way that they now bring with them different forces than they would otherwise bring with them in the morning from this same spiritual world. In the morning, we bring with us only the forces that can develop our soul life between birth and death. We are not able to influence our other members of being. But when we enter existence from the spiritual world at birth, we bring with us the forces that have a plastic, transforming effect on the physical body and etheric body, that is, forces that ensure a development in which the physical body and etheric body are involved.

If we could not destroy the physical body and etheric body, if the physical body could not pass through death, we could not incorporate our experiences into our development. This is the point where we must say that, even if we face death with fear and terror and feel suffering and pain before the death that is to befall us, we can only say, when we view the world from a superpersonal standpoint: We must actually want death! For it alone gives us the opportunity to destroy this body in order to build a new one in the next life, so that we can bring all our earthly fruits into life.

Thus, in the normal course of human development, two currents work together: an inner and an outer one. These two currents appear to us side by side in the physical body and etheric body on the one hand, and in the astral body and ego on the other. — What can human beings do between birth and death in relation to the physical body and etheric body? Not only is the astral body worn down by the life of the soul, but the organs of the physical body and etheric body are also worn down. The following now becomes apparent: while the astral body is in a spiritual world at night, it also works on the physical body and etheric body at the same time to restore them to their normal state. Only during the night's sleep can what has been destroyed during the day be restored in the physical body and etheric body. Thus we see how the physical body and the etheric body are also created from the spiritual world. But there is a limit: the constitution and configuration of the physical body and the etheric body are given at birth and remain the same within narrow limits. We see, as it were, two currents working together in the development of the world, which we cannot easily bring into harmony in an abstract way. Anyone who tried to bring these two currents together with abstract thoughts, anyone who wanted to develop a philosophy lightly and say: Well, human beings must be harmonious; therefore, the two currents in human beings must be in harmony — would be greatly mistaken. Life does not work according to abstractions; life works in such a way that what we dream up in our abstractions can only be achieved after long periods of development. Life works in such a way that it only brings about states of equilibrium and harmony by passing through disharmony. Such is the living interplay within human beings, which cannot be easily harmonized by means of thought alone. It always means abstract, sober thinking when we want to dream of harmony where life develops through disharmony to states of equilibrium. But that is the fate of human development in general, that harmony must be our goal, but that we cannot achieve it if we merely dream of it in any state of human development.

So it will perhaps not be incomprehensible to us when spiritual science says that life does indeed appear different depending on whether we view it from the perspective of the inner or the outer human being. These are two different perspectives. Anyone who wanted to unite these two points of view with some kind of abstraction would not take into account that there is not just one ideal, one judgment, but as many judgments as there are points of view, and that it is precisely through the interaction of the different judgments that the truth can be found. We may therefore assume that the point of view of life in relation to the inner human being is perhaps different from that in relation to the outer human being. Perhaps a comparison could make it clear that truths are entirely relative, depending on whether they are viewed from one perspective or another. —

It is certainly fitting for a giant who has a fist as big as a small child to say: I am laughing up my sleeve! But whether the dwarf, who is just as big as a small child, can say of the giant: He is laughing up his sleeve — that is another question. Things necessarily appear as complementary truths. There is no absolute truth in relation to external things. Things must be viewed from a wide variety of perspectives, and truth must be found through the individual truths that illuminate each other.

Therefore, in the life that presents itself to us, the outer human being, the physical body and etheric body, and the inner human being, the astral body and I, do not need to be in perfect harmony in any epoch of life's development. If the harmony were perfect, then when the human being enters the spiritual world in the evening, he would take the experiences of the day with him and transform them in a regular manner into the essences of ability, wisdom, and so on. It would then be the case that he would apply the forces he brings from the spiritual world of the morning into the physical world in relation to the life of the soul; but the boundary we have characterized, which is drawn for the physical body, would never be crossed. But then there would also be no human development. Man must learn to observe these boundaries himself; he must take them into account in his judgment. There must be the widest possible opportunity for him to cross these boundaries.

And he crosses them constantly! In real life, boundaries are constantly being crossed, so that, for example, the astral body and the I, when they act on the physical body, do not observe the boundaries. In doing so, however, they transgress the regularity implanted in the physical body. We then see what has happened as a result of such transgressions in irregularities, in disorganizations of the physical body, in the emergence of what presents itself as illnesses caused by the spirit, the astral body, and the ego. A boundary can also be crossed in another way, namely when the inner human being fails to harmonize with the outer world, when he fails to achieve complete harmony with the outer world. We can illustrate this with a drastic example.

When the famous eruption of Mount Pel& in Central America took place a few years ago, very strange and very instructive documents were found in the rubble afterwards. One of them said: You need not fear any more, for the dangers are all over; there will be no more eruptions! This is shown to us by the laws that we have recognized as laws of nature. — These documents, which stated that further volcanic eruptions were impossible according to our knowledge of nature, had been buried — and with them the scholars who had written these documents based on conventional scholarly knowledge. We see a tragic event unfolding here. But it is precisely here that we can clearly see the disharmony between humans and the physical world. No one can doubt that the intellect of those scholars who researched these laws of nature would have been sufficient to find the truth, if only it had been properly trained. For they did not lack intellect. It is remarkable that intellect is part of it, but that it cannot do anything on its own. For animals facing such catastrophes migrate! That is a well-known fact. Only domestic animals perish with humans. So the so-called animal instinct is sufficient to develop far more wisdom in the face of such coming events than today's human wisdom. What constitutes “intellect” is not the decisive factor; our present intellect is also sufficiently present in those who commit the greatest follies. Our intellect was therefore sufficient; but the experiences gained from our adventures are not sufficient, because they have not matured. The moment the intellect, with its narrowly limited experiences, establishes something that seems plausible to it, it can come into disharmony with real external experiences, and then the external experiences collapse upon it. For there is a relationship between the physical body and the world that human beings will gradually recognize and comprehend with the powers they already have today; but they will only be able to do so when they have gathered experience after experience from the external world and processed these experiences. Then, in order to achieve complete harmony, no other mind will have worked on what they have developed from these experiences than the mind they have today; for the mind has reached a certain level today. What is missing is the maturation of experiences and adventures. If this maturation of experiences does not correspond to the external world, then the human being comes into disharmony with the external world and can be broken by the events of the external world.

We have seen in a drastic example how disharmony has arisen between the physical bodies of the scholars in question and what they have achieved internally in terms of their soul development. We have used this example to illustrate our observations. This disharmony does not necessarily arise because of violent events that befall us; but such disharmony is always present in principle and in essence whenever any external damage affects our physical and etheric bodies; when external damage affects the outer human being in such a way that he is unable to counteract this external damage with his inner forces and banish it from his life. The same is true whenever any external damage comes upon us, whether it is visible externally or whether it is a so-called internal damage, which is actually external; for when we spoil our stomach, it is essentially the same as when a brick falls on our head. This is the case when a conflict arises, or can arise, between the inner person and what comes to him from outside; when the inner person is not equal to the outer person.

And basically, every illness is such a disharmony, such a crossing of boundaries between the inner and outer human beings. What must first be achieved as harmony in the distant future, what would remain an abstract thought if we wanted to dream it into life, is brought about by the fact that boundaries are actually being crossed all the time. Only by gradually seeing how what they have already attained makes them unequal to outer life do human beings learn to become ever more mature in relation to their inner life. This applies not only to the things that permeate the ego, but also to those that permeate the astral body. What the ego permeates, human beings experience consciously from waking up to falling asleep; how the astral body works, how it can cross its boundaries and prove powerless to establish a proper harmony between the inner and outer human being, is beyond the ordinary consciousness of human beings, but it is nevertheless present. In all these things we have given the deeper inner nature of illness.

What are the two possible outcomes of illness? — Either healing occurs, or the illness ends in death. As we consider the development of normal life, we can place death on one side and healing on the other.

What does healing mean for the overall development of the human being? — We must first be clear about what illness means for the overall development of the human being.

Illness represents a disharmony between the inner and outer human beings; the inner human being cannot come into harmony with the outer human being when illness is present. In a certain sense, the inner human being must withdraw from the outer human being. We can see this most clearly when we cut our finger. — We can only cut the physical body, not the astral body. But the astral body must constantly intervene in the ordinary workings, and the result is now that the astral body does not find what it should find in the cut finger if it wants to penetrate the finger down to its smallest parts. It feels repelled from the physical part of the finger. This is the essence of a whole range of illnesses: that the inner human being feels repelled by the outer human being, that it cannot participate in the outer human being because it is destroyed, because it has been torn away from it through damage. Now we can take things so far that we either create the outer human being through external influences — or make the inner human being so strong that it creates the outer human being itself; that is, healing can take place. Then, in a weaker or stronger form, the connection between the outer and inner human being will be restored after healing; that is, the inner human being can now, in a certain way, find the possibility to continue living in the corrected outer human being; it can intervene again.

This is a process that can be compared to waking up. It was an artificial withdrawal of the inner person. Now he is given the opportunity to experience in the outer person what the human being can only experience in the outer world. Healing gives the human being the opportunity to return and bring in what he could not bring in if he could not return. Therefore, what constitutes the healing process is absorbed into the inner human being and now forms an inner part of this inner human being. Recovery, healing, is what we can look back on with satisfaction, with gratification, because we can say to ourselves: Just as we take something with us when we fall asleep for the inner human being, thereby raising them higher, so through healing we take something with us that raises the inner human being higher. Even if it is not immediately visible, it is there: we are elevated in our inner human being, in our soul experience, under all circumstances; we experience an enhancement of our inner human being through recovery. We take with us into the spiritual world, which we experience during sleep, what we have gained through recovery. Healing is therefore something that enters into the state of sleep, something that strengthens us in relation to the powers we develop during the state of sleep. — All the mysterious relationships between healing and sleep could be explained if we had time to fully develop these ideas. From this you can already see how we can equate healing with what we take with us into the spiritual world in the evening, and what promotes the processes of development, insofar as they can be promoted at all between birth and death. But what we take in from our outer experiences in normal life must come out in our soul life between birth and death as higher development. However, what we take in as healing does not always have to come out; we can very well take it with us through the gate of death, and it may only benefit us in a future life. But what spiritual science shows us is that we must be grateful for every healing, because every healing means an elevation of the inner human being, which we can only achieve with the forces that are absorbed within.

The other question is: What does an illness that ends in death mean for a person?

In a certain sense, it means the opposite, that we are unable to restore the destroyed harmony between the inner and outer human beings; that we cannot cross the boundary between the inner and outer human beings in this life; that it is impossible for us to cross this boundary in the right way in this life. Just as we must stand still before the healthy body in the morning when we wake up, so too, when an illness ends in death, we must stand still before the damaged body, unable to bring about any change in it. Just as the healthy body remains as it is and welcomes us in the morning, so too the damaged body does not welcome us, which means that we must end in death. We must leave this body because we are unable to restore harmony. In return, however, we now take these experiences with us into the spiritual world, which we enter without having an outer body at our disposal. What we have absorbed as fruit within ourselves, which a damaged body cannot take us back into, will enrich the life that passes between death and a new birth. So we must also be grateful for an illness that ends in death, because it offers us the opportunity to enhance our life between death and new birth, to gather the strengths and experiences that can only mature between death and new birth.

So we have the spiritual consequence of an illness that ends in death and the spiritual consequence of an illness that ends in healing. The healing processes intervene in our entire inner life and bring us forward; illnesses that end in death intervene in everything that development in the outer world means. This gives us two points of view: we can be grateful for an illness that ends in healing because it has made us stronger within; and we can be grateful for an illness that ends in death because we know that when we rise to a higher level in the life between death and new birth, death will be of infinite importance to us, and we will then have learned that our body must not be like that when we rebuild it. And we will avoid those damages that caused us to fail.

So we do indeed need to consider two points of view. No one should think of saying, based on spiritual science, that if death, which ends an illness, is something we must be grateful for, if the fatal outcome of an illness is something that elevates us in the next life, then we should let the illness end in death and not cure it! Anyone who said this would not be speaking in the spirit of true spiritual science, because spiritual science does not deal with abstractions, but with truths that are gained from a wide variety of perspectives. We have a duty to provide healing by all means at our disposal. It is the task of human consciousness to heal as much as possible. For the view that we can also be grateful for death when it has occurred is not one that falls within ordinary human consciousness, but can only be gained by rising above ordinary human consciousness. From a “divine point of view,” it is justified to allow this or that illness to end in death; from the human standpoint, it is only justified to use everything that can bring about healing. An illness that ends in death must be judged from a different point of view. At first, there is no union between these two points of view; they must go side by side. All abstract harmonization is of no use here. Spiritual science must advance to the recognition of truths that represent life from one certain side, and other truths that represent it from another side.

The statement is correct: Healing is good! Healing is a duty! — But the other statement is also correct: Death is good when it occurs as the end of an illness; death is beneficial for the entire development of humanity! — Although both statements contradict each other, they both contain living truths for living knowledge. Precisely where two such currents shine into human life, which must first harmonize with each other, we see that we must not stereotype and systematize, but that we must view life in its broadest scope. We must be clear that so-called contradictions, if they are based on experience, on living through things, and on a deeper understanding of the matter, do not impair our knowledge, but rather gradually lead us to a lively understanding, because life itself develops into harmony.

Normal life unfolds in such a way that we develop abilities from our experiences and that we weave together what we cannot process internally between birth and death into what we can then process between death and new birth. Healing and deadly illness are woven into this normal course of human life in such a way that every healing is a contribution to leading people to higher levels, and that every deadly illness in turn leads people to a higher level; once in relation to the inner person, the other time in relation to the outer person. Thus the world progresses, advancing not in one but in two opposing currents. It is precisely in illness and healing that the whole complexity of human life is revealed to us. If there were no illness and no healing, normal life would only be possible if human beings were led by the hand through existence, always remaining at the boundary, and, so to speak, having to draw strength from the spiritual world between death and new birth in order to rebuild their organism. In that case, human beings would never be able to develop the fruits of their own labor in the development of the world. Human beings can only develop these fruits within the narrower limits of life by being able to err; for it is only by knowing what error is that one can arrive at a conviction of truth. One can only take in the truth in such a way that it becomes the soul's own affair, that it intervenes in development, if one extracts the truth from the mother soil of error. Human beings could also have health if they did not interfere in life with their own mistakes and imperfections by overstepping boundaries. Health that comes about in the same way as inner recognition of the truth, health that people achieve for themselves from incarnation to incarnation through their own lives, comes about through real errors, through illnesses, that is, through people learning, on the one hand, to overcome their real errors and mistakes in healing, and on the other hand, by being confronted in the life between death and new birth with those mistakes that they could not make amends for in one life, so that they learn to make amends for them in the next life.

We can now return to our drastic example and say: The minds of those scholars who made such false prophecies at that time will not only become cautious, so as not to judge too quickly, but will allow their experiences to mature in order to gradually establish harmony with life.

Thus we see how healing and illness intervene in human life and lead to that without which human beings could never achieve their goal as their own. When we look at illness and healing in this way, we can see how the seemingly abnormal interventions in our development — and this includes illness and healing and the fatal outcome of illness — belong to human existence, just as error belongs to it when we want to recognize the truth. We could say the same thing about illness and healing that a great poet said about human error in an important era: “Man errs as long as he strives!” Under certain circumstances, this could appear as if the poet wanted to say: Man always errs! — But the sentence is reversible, and we can express it this way: Man strives as long as he errs! — Error gives birth to a new striving. The sentence: “Man errs as long as he strives!” therefore need not fill us with despair; for every error generates new striving, and man will strive until they have overcome their error. This means that error itself leads beyond itself to human truth! And we can also say: Man may fall ill as long as he develops! Through illness, he simultaneously develops toward health. Thus, illness strives beyond itself in healing, and even in death, and produces health not as something foreign to man, but as a health that has grown out of the human being itself and is in harmony with that human being.

Everything that appears in such remarkable and meaningful areas is well suited to show us how the whole world is arranged in its wisdom so that human beings find the opportunity to grow beyond themselves in all moments of development — entirely in the spirit of that sentence by Angelus Silesius with which we concluded the lecture “What is Mysticism?” At that time, we applied it to more intimate development; now we can extend it to the broad field of illness and healing and say that even there it truly reveals itself to us:

When you rise above yourself and let God reign:
Then the Ascension will take place in your spirit!