The Gospel of St. Matthew
GA 123
2 September 1910, Bern
Translated by Steiner Online Library
Second Lecture
[ 1 ] It will be necessary for the opening lectures of this series to revisit some of what has already been said in the discussion of the Gospel of Luke. After all, certain events in the life of Jesus Christ can only be understood by comparing these two Gospels to some extent.
[ 2 ] What is of primary importance for an inner understanding of the Gospel of Matthew is that the individuality of which this Gospel first tells us, in terms of its physical nature, descends from Abraham and, through inheritance across three times fourteen generations, carries within itself, so to speak, an essence of the entire cultural heritage of the Abrahamites, the Hebrews, and that for the spiritual scientist this individuality is the very same one we refer to as that of Zoroaster or Zarathustra. Yesterday we described, as it were, the external environment into which that Zoroaster or Zarathustra worked. It will also be necessary to mention something of the worldviews and ideas that dominated the circles of Zarathustra. For it must be said that in that region within which Zoroaster or Zarathustra worked in ancient times, a worldview flourished that contains something deeply significant in its broad outlines. One need only utter a few sentences about what may, after all, be regarded as the teaching of the earliest Zarathustra to point to the deep foundations of the entire post-Atlantean worldview.
[ 3 ] Even from an external historical perspective, we are told that the doctrine within which Zarathustra also worked is based on two principles, which we refer to as the principle of Ormuzd, the good, luminous being, and the principle of Ahriman, the dark, evil being. But at the same time, the external presentation of this religious system also emphasizes that these two principles—Ormuzd or Ahura Mazdao and Ahriman—ultimately trace back to a common principle: Zeruane Akarene.
[ 4 ] What is this unified, so to speak, primordial principle from which the other two principles—which are in conflict with one another in the world—originate? Zeruane Akarene is usually translated as “uncreated time.” One can thus say: The Zarathustrian teaching ultimately traces back to the primordial principle, in which we must see the tranquil time flowing along in the course of the world. However, it is already inherent in the very meaning of the word that one cannot in turn ask about the origin of this time, this cycle of time. - It is important, in particular, to bring this idea clearly to mind: that one can speak of something within the context of the world without being internally justified in, for example, asking again about the causes of such a first principle. After all, people’s external, abstract thinking will hardly ever allow itself, whenever a cause is pointed out, to stop asking again and again about the cause of that cause, and thus, as it were, to turn concepts backward into eternity. If one truly wished to stand firm on the ground of spiritual science, one would have to make it clear to oneself through thorough meditation that the question of origin, of cause, must come to a halt somewhere, must end somewhere, and that if one continues to ask about causes beyond a certain point, one is merely engaging in a game of thought.
[ 5 ] I pointed out this epistemological fact in my *Outline of Esoteric Science*. I said: One might well ask, when seeing ruts in a road, where the ruts come from. One can answer: From the wheels of a cart. One might further ask, where are the wheels located on the cart? One might ask, why were the ruts made by the carriage? and receive the answer: Because it drove down the road. One might further ask: Why did it drive down the road? and receive the answer: Because it was meant to carry a person down the road. - But with these questions, one ultimately arrives at the decisions that led that person to use the car. And if one does not then pause to consider that the person had this intention, if one continues to ask about the causes of this intention, then one misses the actual substance and gets stuck in a game of questions.
[ 6 ] The same is true of the great questions of worldview. One must anchor oneself somewhere. According to the teachings of Zoroastrianism, one must anchor oneself in time, which flows quietly by. Now, Zoroastrianism divides time itself into two principles, or rather, it derives two principles from it: a good one, a principle of light, which I was able to characterize for you quite concretely yesterday as the Ormuzd principle, and an evil one, a principle of darkness, the Ahriman principle. There really lies something immensely profound at the heart of this ancient Persian conception, namely that all evil, all that is bad in the world, everything that in its physical form must be described as dark, as gloomy, is not originally evil, dark, or bad. I pointed out precisely that ancient Persian thought, for example, views the wolf—which in a certain way represents something wild, something terrible, something upon which the Ahriman principle works— regards it as having degenerated when it was left to its own devices and the Ahrimanic principle could take effect within it; that is to say, in this sense, the wolf has originally slipped down from a being in which we must not deny the presence of the good. According to the ancient Persian and ancient Aryan view, this underlies all becoming: that the bad, the evil, and the wicked arise because something that was good in its form at an earlier time has retained that form into a later period; that is, instead of changing, instead of progressing, it has preserved the form that was appropriate to an earlier time. The ancient Persian view simply derives all that is bad, dark, and evil from the fact that the form of a being, which was good at an earlier time, has remained so into a later time, instead of changing accordingly. And from the clash of such a form of being—carried over from an earlier period into a later time—with that which has progressed, the struggle between good and evil arises. Thus, according to the ancient Persian view, the conflict between good and evil is nothing other than the conflict between that which has its proper form in the present and that which carries its old form into the present. Evil is therefore not an absolute evil, but merely a displaced good, something that was good in an earlier time. Thus, evil, which inserts itself into the present, appears as an event that preserves an earlier time within the present. Where the earlier and the later have not yet entered into conflict with one another, time still flows undivided, not yet truly separated into its individual moments.
[ 7 ] This is a profoundly significant concept that we find here at the root of the first post-Atlantean peoples in Zoroastrianism. And this view, which we can in fact regard as the fundamental principle of Zoroastrianism, encompasses within itself—when viewed in the proper light—precisely that which we were able to characterize yesterday from a certain perspective, and which we see so strongly emerging precisely among those peoples who drew upon the teachings of Zoroaster. We see everywhere among these peoples an understanding of the necessity that these two moments—which have, as it were, grown out of the uniform flow of time—confront one another within time itself and are only overcome in the course of time. We see the necessity that the new arise and that the old be preserved, and that in the balance between the old and the new, the world’s goal—especially the Earth’s goal—be gradually attained. However, as we have now characterized it, this perspective also underlies all higher development as it emerged within what stems from Zoroastrianism. After Zoroastrianism had established its foothold in those regions during the times characterized yesterday, it exerted its influence wherever it appeared. And we shall soon see how immeasurably strongly it influenced all subsequent eras. It exerted its influence in such a way that it infused the contrast between the old and the new into everything it brought about. And it exerted a profound influence.
[ 8 ] Zarathustra was able to exert such a profound influence on all subsequent generations because, at the time when he had ascended to the highest initiation attainable in his day, he had taken on two disciples. I have already mentioned them. To one he taught everything pertaining to the mysteries of space, which spreads out around us in a way perceptible to the senses—that is, everything that constitutes the mysteries of simultaneity; then he taught the other disciple everything pertaining to the mysteries of time as it flows by, the mysteries of evolution and development. I have also already pointed out that at a certain point in such a discipleship, as existed between these two great disciples and Zarathustra, something very special occurs: that the teacher can sacrifice something of his own being for his disciples. And Zarathustra, as he was in his Zarathustra period, sacrificed from his own being for his two disciples his own astral body and his own etheric body. The individuality of Zarathustra, his innermost being, remained preserved within itself for ever-recurring incarnations. ‘But what was, as it were, the astral garment of Zarathustra—the astral body in which he lived as Zarathustra in the ancient times of post-Atlantean development—this astral garment was so perfect, so imbued with the entire being of Zarathustra, that it did not disintegrate like other astral garments of human beings, but remained intact. In the unfolding of the world, such human sheaths, held together by the depth of the individuality that bore them, can be preserved. And the astral body of Zarathustra was preserved. And one of the disciples, who had received from Zarathustra the doctrine of space and the mysteries of all that simultaneously permeates our sensory world, this disciple was reborn in that personality whom history calls Thoth or Hermes the Egyptian. This reincarnated disciple of Zarathustra, who was destined—as occult research teaches—to become that Egyptian Hermes or Thoth, was to not only consolidate within himself all that he had received from Zarathustra in a previous incarnation, but was also to bring it to stability by having the preserved astral body of Zarathustra himself incorporated into him, poured into him, and infused into him in the manner made possible by the sacred mysteries. Thus the individuality of this disciple of Zarathustra was reborn as the inaugurator of Egyptian culture, and the astral body of Zarathustra himself was incorporated into this Hermes or Thoth. We thus have a direct link to the Zarathustra being in the Egyptian Hermes. And with this link and with what he had brought with him from his discipleship under Zarathustra, Hermes brought about all that is great and significant in Egyptian culture.
[ 9 ] For something like this to happen—as it did through this missionary, this messenger of Zarathustra—a corresponding cultural milieu naturally had to exist. Only among these peoples—where there were people who had migrated from the Atlantic regions via the more southerly route and settled in East Africa, and who had preserved much of their Atlantic form of clairvoyance—only there could what Hermes, the disciple of Zarathustra, was able to plant find fertile ground. There, the nature of the soul among the Egyptian people met with what Hermes had to offer, and thus Egyptian culture took shape.
[ 10 ] This was indeed a very special kind of culture. Just consider all that had been handed down to Hermes by his teacher Zarathustra as a precious treasure: the mysteries of what exists simultaneously in space. Through this, Hermes possessed, in his very being, the very essence of what Zarathustra had mastered. We have often pointed out that one of the most characteristic features of Zarathustra’s teaching was that Zarathustra directed his followers toward the solar body, toward the outer light and the outer physical light body of the sun, and showed them how this solar body is merely the outer shell of a high spiritual being. Thus, what lies as an entity through space at the foundation of all nature—what is simultaneous yet, through time, ever progresses from epoch to epoch and reveals itself anew in each specific epoch—this Zarathustra had entrusted to Hermes in connection with his mysteries. That which emanates from the Sun and continues to develop from the Sun—this was what Hermes mastered. He was able to implant this into the souls of those who had come over from the Atlantean population, because these souls, as if by natural gifts, had once themselves entered into the solar mysteries and had preserved something of them in their memory. Everything was, after all, developing in a progressive line. Both the souls of those who were to receive the wisdom of Hermes developed in a progressive manner, as did Hermes himself. It was different with Zarathustra’s second disciple. He had received those mysteries that relate to the course of time, and he therefore had to receive as well what stands within evolution as the accumulation of the old and the young, as something contradictory and polarizing. But Zarathustra had also sacrificed a part of his own being for this disciple, so that this second disciple, too, could receive the sacrifice of Zarathustra at rebirth. Thus, while the individuality of Zarathustra was preserved, the physical bodies were separated from him; yet, because they were held together by such a powerful individuality, they remained intact and did not disintegrate. This second disciple, who had received the wisdom of time—in contrast to the wisdom of space—received, at a certain point in his reincarnation, the etheric body of Zarathustra, which Zarathustra had sacrificed just as he had sacrificed his astral body. This reborn disciple of Zarathustra is none other than Moses. In very early childhood, Moses receives the preserved etheric body of Zarathustra, which is incorporated into him. In a mysterious way, the religious texts that are truly grounded in occultism contain everything that can point us toward such mysteries as occult research teaches us. If Moses was the reincarnated disciple of Zarathustra and was to receive the preserved etheric body of Zarathustra, then something very special had to happen to him. Before he could receive the corresponding impressions from his surroundings like any other human being, before the impressions of the external world could descend into his individuality, what he was to receive as a miraculous heirloom from Zarathustra had to be infused into his being. This is recounted in that symbolism: that he was placed in a small box and cast into the river, which appears to be a strange initiation. An initiation consists, after all, in a person being cut off from the outside world for a certain time, and during that time having what he is to receive infused into him. So at that time, when Moses was thus cut off, the preserved etheric body of Zarathustra could be incorporated into him at a certain moment. There, within him, that wondrous wisdom of the ages could blossom—the wisdom that Zarathustra had once imparted to him, with which he was now endowed, and which he was able to bring forth by depicting, one after another, the wisdom of the times in images that were once again suitable for his people. Thus, in Moses, the great images of Genesis can appear to us as external imaginings of the wisdom of the ages that originated with Zarathustra. They were the reborn knowledge, the reborn wisdom, that he had received from Zarathustra. This was now established within him by the fact that he himself had received the etheric body of Zarathustra.
[ 11 ] But in a process so significant for the development of humanity, it is not only necessary that an Initiate be present as the inaugurator of a cultural movement; it is also necessary that what such a great individuality has to plant as a cultural seed be able to take root in the appropriate, that is, suitable, national soil. And if we wish to consider the national seed, the national foundation into which Moses was able to plant what had been entrusted to him by Zarathustra, it is good that we examine a certain peculiarity of the wisdom of Moses itself.
[ 12 ] Moses was thus a disciple of Zarathustra in a previous incarnation. At that time, he received the wisdom of the ages and that mystery which we have alluded to—namely, that in every age, the earlier collides with the later, thereby giving rise to a contrast. If Moses were to step into the development of humanity with this wisdom, then he himself would have to step into that development as a contrast with a wisdom of a different kind than the wisdom of Hermes. That is what happened. We can say: Hermes received direct wisdom from Zarathustra, so to speak, solar wisdom—that is, the knowledge of what lives mysteriously and essentially within the outer physical shell of light and the solar body, that which follows a direct path. Moses was different. Moses had received the wisdom that the human being preserves more in the denser etheric body, not in the astral body. He had received the wisdom that not only looks up to the sun and asks what flows from the solar being, but also comprehends what stands in opposition to the sunlight, the solar heat; that which processes within itself, though it does not allow itself to be corrupted by it—that which has become earthly, that which has become dense, that which rises from the earth as the aged, as the solidified: Earth-wisdom, then, which though it lives within the solar wisdom, is nevertheless Earth-wisdom. The mysteries of becoming earthly, of the way in which the human being develops on Earth and how earthly substance has evolved since the Sun separated from the Earth—this is what Moses had received. But this is precisely what distinguishes the matter when we now consider it not externally but internally, explaining why in the Hermetic teachings we encounter something like a stark contrast to the wisdom of Moses.
[ 13 ] There are, however, certain contemporary views that approach such matters according to the principle: “All cows are gray at night!” They then see only the same thing everywhere and are quite delighted when, for example, they find the same thing in Hermestum as in Mosestum: a trinity here, a trinity there, a quaternity here, and a quaternity there. But that doesn’t get us very far. For that would be roughly the same as if someone wanted to train another person to be a botanist and did not teach them the differences—such as what distinguishes the rose from the carnation—but only pointed out what is the same in both. That won’t get us anywhere. We must know how the essences differ, and likewise the wisdoms. And so we must also know that the wisdom of Moses was quite different from the wisdom of Hermes. Both did indeed originate with Zarathustra; but just as unity divides and manifests itself in various ways, so too did Zarathustra give two of his disciples such diverse revelations.
[ 13 ] There are, however, certain contemporary views that approach such matters according to the principle: “All cows are gray at night!” They then see only the same thing everywhere and are quite delighted when, for example, they find the same thing in Hermestum as in Mosestum: a trinity here, a trinity there, a quaternity here, and a quaternity there. But that doesn’t get us very far. For that would be roughly the same as if someone wanted to train another person to be a botanist and did not teach them the differences—such as what distinguishes the rose from the carnation—but only pointed out what is the same in both. That won’t get us anywhere. We must know how the essences differ, and likewise the wisdoms. And so we must also know that the wisdom of Moses was quite different from the wisdom of Hermes. Both did indeed originate with Zarathustra; but just as unity divides and manifests itself in various ways, so too did Zarathustra give two of his disciples such diverse revelations.
[ 13 ] There are, however, certain contemporary views that approach such matters according to the principle: “All cows are gray at night!” They then see only the same thing everywhere and are quite delighted when, for example, they find the same thing in Hermestum as in Mosestum: a trinity here, a trinity there, a quaternity here, and a quaternity there. But that doesn’t get us very far. For that would be roughly the same as if someone wanted to train another person to be a botanist and did not teach them the differences—such as what distinguishes the rose from the carnation—but only pointed out what is the same in both. That won’t get us anywhere. We must know how the essences differ, and likewise the wisdoms. And so we must also know that the wisdom of Moses was quite different from the wisdom of Hermes. Both did indeed originate with Zarathustra; but just as unity divides and manifests itself in various ways, so too did Zarathustra give two of his disciples such diverse revelations.
[ 13 ] There are, however, certain contemporary views that approach such matters according to the principle: “All cows are gray at night!” They then see only the same thing everywhere and are quite delighted when, for example, they find the same thing in Hermestum as in Mosestum: a trinity here, a trinity there, a quaternity here, and a quaternity there. But that doesn’t get us very far. For that would be roughly the same as if someone wanted to train another person to be a botanist and did not teach them the differences—such as what distinguishes the rose from the carnation—but only pointed out what is the same in both. That won’t get us anywhere. We must know how the essences differ, and likewise the wisdoms. And so we must also know that the wisdom of Moses was quite different from the wisdom of Hermes. Both did indeed originate with Zarathustra; but just as unity divides and manifests itself in various ways, so too did Zarathustra give two of his disciples such diverse revelations.
[ 17 ] I already pointed out in Munich how, in the Rosicrucian mystery play *The Gate of Initiation*, the end of the first scene in the “Meditation Room” presented a difficult struggle with language. What was to be said there by the Hierophant to the disciple is something that could be poured into the feeble instrument of language only to the very slightest degree.
[ 18 ] Yet it was precisely the deepest mysteries that were expressed in the sacred mysteries. For this reason, people in the mysteries have always felt how feeble a tool language is, and how unsuitable it is for conveying images of what one actually wishes to say. Hence the constant quest in the Mysteries for means of expression for what the soul experienced inwardly. And the weakest means of expression proved to be those that human beings had preserved for centuries for external use, for external interaction. In contrast, the images that arose when one cast one’s gaze out into the vastness of space proved to be suitable: the constellations, the rising of a particular star at a certain time, the occultation of one star by another at a certain time. In short, the images that arose in this way could be well used to express what takes place in a certain way within the human soul. I will briefly characterize this.
[ 19 ] Let us suppose that at a certain point in time a great event was to occur because a human soul had, at that moment, matured to the point of experiencing something great and conveying it to the peoples; or, to put it another way, that the people in question—or indeed a whole segment of humanity—had attained a particular state of maturity and had ascended to a certain stage in evolution, and to show how an individuality entered into this people, perhaps from an entirely different direction. Thus the culmination of this individuality’s development coincided with the culmination of the people’s soul’s development, and one wished to express this coincidence in all its uniqueness. Nothing that could be said in such a case through language seemed grand enough to convey the significance of such an event into our hearts. Therefore, it was expressed in this way: The convergence of the highest strength of a single individuality with the highest strength of a single national soul is like the sun standing in the constellation of Leo and shining its light upon us from there. The image of the lion was taken to depict, in a pictorial expression, what was to be indicated in terms of its strength within human evolution. What presented itself outwardly in the cosmos became a means of expression for what is taking place within humanity. From there arose the expressions used in human history, which are drawn from the course of the stars. These were means of expression for the spiritual realities within humanity.
[ 20 ] When people speak of such things—for example, that the Sun is in the sign of Leo, and that a celestial event, such as the Sun’s alignment with a particular constellation, symbolically represents an event in human development— then it may well be that the trivial-minded reverse this and believe that all events relating to human history were once mythically cloaked in processes derived from the stars, whereas in truth what was taking place within humanity was expressed by drawing upon images from the constellations. In truth, the correct view is always the opposite of what the trivial minds favor.
[ 21 ] This connection with the cosmos is something that should fill us with a certain sense of awe toward everything we are told about the great events of human evolution, and toward what is expressed in the images drawn from cosmic existence. Yet there is indeed a secret connection between the entire cosmic existence and what takes place in human existence. What takes place on Earth is a reflection of what happens in the cosmos.
[ 22 ] Thus, the contrast between the solar wisdom of Hermes and the earthly wisdom of Moses, as expressed in Egypt, is in a certain sense a reflection, a mirror image, of the workings of the cosmos outside. Imagine certain effects radiating from the sun toward the earth and other effects radiating back from the earth into outer space; it will not be irrelevant where these two effects meet in space; rather, depending on whether they meet closer or farther apart, the effect of the collision of the emitted and reflected rays will also be different. Now, the collision of Hermes’ wisdom with Moses’ wisdom in ancient Egypt was depicted in the Mysteries in such a way that it could be compared to something that, according to our spiritual-scientific cosmology, has essentially already existed in the cosmos. We know that originally a separation of the Sun and the Earth took place, that the Earth was then connected to the Moon for a time, and that a part of the Earth then moved out into space and left it again as our present-day Moon. Thus the Earth sent a part of itself back into outer space as the Moon, toward the Sun. Just as this “radiation” of the Earth toward the Sun, so too was the peculiar process when the Earth-wisdom of Moses in Egyptian culture encountered the Sun-wisdom of Hermes.
[ 23 ] In its further development, the wisdom of Moses was something that can be said to have evolved as the science of the Earth and of humanity—precisely as Earth wisdom—following the separation from solar wisdom, but in such a way that it grew toward the Sun and absorbed what came from the Sun as direct wisdom, with which it now became imbued. But it was only to be permeated by direct solar wisdom to a certain degree; then it was to proceed on its own and develop independently. Therefore, the wisdom of Moses remained in Egypt only until it had sufficiently absorbed what it needed; then the “exodus of the children of Moses from Egypt” took place, so that what had been absorbed from solar wisdom by Earth wisdom might be assimilated and now carried forward independently.
[ 24 ] We must therefore distinguish two distinct phases within the Wisdom of Moses: a phase in which the Wisdom of Moses develops within the bosom of the Wisdom of Hermes, as it were, surrounded on all sides by it and constantly absorbing the Wisdom of Hermes; then it separates from it and develops apart from it after the Exodus from Egypt, further developing the wisdom of Hermes within its own bosom and reaching three stages in this further development. Where is the wisdom of Moses to develop? What is its task?—Its task is to find its way back to the Sun. It has become earthly wisdom. Moses is born with what Zarathustra has given him as an Earth-sage. He is to find his way back. And he seeks it back through its various stages, first imbuing himself in the first stage with the wisdom of Hermes; then he develops further. What he undergoes on this path can best be depicted again in images of cosmic processes. When what happens on Earth radiates back into space, it first encounters Mercury on the way to the Sun. We know, of course, that what is called Venus in ordinary astronomy is called Mercury in occult terminology, and likewise, what is usually called Mercury is Venus in the occult sense. Thus, when one proceeds from the Earth toward the Sun, one first encounters the Mercury-like, then on the further path the Venus-like, and then the Sun-like. Therefore, Moses was to develop, in inner soul processes, what he had inherited from Zarathustra in such a way that it could find the Sun-like again upon its return. It therefore had to develop to a certain degree. What he planted as wisdom in worldly culture had to develop in the way that was given to his people. Therefore, his path was such that he redeveloped what Hermes had brought directly—as in rays of light from the Sun—on the return journey, in reverse, after he had first absorbed something of the wisdom of Hermes.
[ 25 ] We are told that Hermes, who was later called Mercury and Thoth, brought art and science to his people—knowledge of the external world and the arts of the material world—in a form that his people could use. In a different way, as it were the opposite, Moses himself was to advance to this Hermes-Mercury standpoint, developing the wisdom of Hermes in a retrograde manner. This is depicted in the progression of the Hebrew people up to the point of the age and reign of David, who appears to us as the royal psalmist, as a divine prophet who acted as a man of God, as a sword-bearer, and also as a ‘bearer of the musical instrument.’ David, the Hermes, the Mercury of the Hebrew people—this is how he is portrayed to us. The current of Hebrew folk tradition has now progressed so far that it has produced an independent Hermeticism or Mercurialism. The absorbed Hermes wisdom had thus reached the realm of Mercury by the Davidic age.
[ 26 ] The wisdom of Moses was to proceed along the retrograde path to the point where the Venus region is, if one may put it that way. The Venus region came into play for Hebraism at that time when the wisdom of Moses—that is, what had flowed down through the centuries as this wisdom of Moses—had to connect with a completely different element, with a stream of wisdom that had, as it were, radiated from the other side. Just as what radiates back from the Earth into space meets Venus at a point on its way to the Sun, so the wisdom of Moses met with what had been radiated over from the other side of Asia during the Babylonian captivity. What manifested itself, as it were, in a weakened form in the mysteries of Babylon and Chaldea—it was with this that the wisdom of the Hebrew people, in its particular development, came together during the Babylonian captivity. Just as if a traveler who had set out from the Earth and knew what was on the Earth had passed through the region of Mercury and arrived in the region of Venus to receive the sunlight falling upon Venus, so the wisdom of Moses received that which had gone forth directly from the sanctuaries of Zoroastrianism and had propagated itself in a weakened form in the mysteries and wisdom of the Chaldeans and Babylonians. This is what the wisdom of Moses now received during the Babylonian captivity. There the wisdom of Moses united with that which had penetrated as far as the regions of the Euphrates and Tigris.
[ 27 ] Then something else happened. In fact, Moses had encountered that which had once emanated from the sun. Moses—not he himself, but what he had bequeathed to his people through his wisdom—converged in the places where the wisdom of the Hebrews had to enter during the Babylonian captivity; it converged directly with the solar aspect of this wisdom. For there, during that time, in the mystery sites along the Euphrates and Tigris—with which the Hebrew sages became acquainted at that time—the reincarnated Zarathustra taught. Around the time of the Babylonian captivity, Zarathustra himself was incarnated, and there he taught, having given up a part of his wisdom in order to receive a part of it back. He himself incarnated again and again, and thus, in his incarnation as Zarathas or Nazarathos, became the teacher of the Jews who had been led into the Babylonian captivity and who became acquainted with the sanctuaries of those regions.
[ 28 ] Thus did the Wisdom of Moses, in its continuous flow and outpouring, converge with what Zarathustra himself had become after being drawn from the more remote mystery sites to the sites of the Near East. For there he became the teacher of the initiated disciples of Chaldea, both of individual initiated teachers and of those who now received the fertilization of their Moses-wisdom with that stream which could meet them by enabling them to from Zarathustra himself in his incarnation as Zarathas or Nazarathos. Such were the vicissitudes the wisdom of Moses had undergone. It had indeed originated with Zarathustra; it had been transplanted into a foreign land. It was as if a solar being had been carried down to Earth blindfolded and now, on the return journey, had to search for everything it had lost.
[ 29 ] Thus was Moses the disciple of Zarathustra. He found himself in his existence within Egyptian culture in such a way that everything Zarathustra had once given him shone forth within him. But it was as if he did not know where it was coming from, shining upon him as he stood apart on the island of the earth. And he went toward that which had once been the Sun. Within Egypt, he went toward the wisdom of Hermes, which brought forth Zarathustra’s wisdom directly, not through the reflective path as Moses had. And after he had absorbed enough of it, the stream of Moses’ wisdom developed further in a direct way. And by founding a direct Hermeticism, a science and art of his own, in the Davidic age, he went toward the sun from which he had come forth in a form in which he first had to appear veiled.
[ 30 ] In the ancient Babylonian schools, where he was also the teacher of Pythagoras, Zarathustra could only teach in the way that is possible within a particular physical body, since one is dependent on the tools of that body. If Zarathustra was to express the full solar nature that he had once expressed and transmitted to Hermes and Moses in a new form appropriate to the progress of the times, then he had to have a physical form that was a worthy instrument, one appropriate to the advanced age. Only in a form conditioned by a body, such as that produced in ancient Babylon, could Zarathustra bring forth once more all that he had been able to transmit to Pythagoras, to the Hebrew scholars, and to the Chaldean and Babylonian sages who, in the 6th century B.C., were capable of hearing him. It was truly the case with what Zarathustra could teach that it was as if the sunlight were first reflected by Venus and could not reach the Earth directly; it was as if the wisdom of Zarathustra could not reveal itself in its very own form, but only in a weakened form. For the wisdom of Zarathustra to be effective in its true form, Zarathustra first had to surround himself with a suitable body. This suitable body could only come into being in a very particular way, which might be characterized as follows:
[ 31 ] Yesterday we said that there were three distinct types of national souls in Asia: the Indian in the south, the Iranian, and the North Asian-Turanian. We pointed out that these three types of soul arose because the northern stream of the Atlantean population moved across to Asia and radiated out from there. Another stream, however, passed through Africa and sent its final offshoots all the way into the Turanian element. And where the northern stream, which moved from Atlantis to Asia, and the other current, which spread from Atlantis through Africa, collided, a peculiar mixture arose; a folk culture emerged from which the later Hebrew people developed. Something quite special happened with this folk culture. Everything we have described—which, in a state of decline, had remained with certain peoples as a form of astral-etheric clairvoyance and had become a source of harm by manifesting as external clairvoyance in a final phase—all of this turned inward within the people who became the Hebrew nation. It took a completely different direction. Instead of manifesting externally as the remnants of the old Atlantean clairvoyance in a lower astral form, it appeared among this people in such a way that it worked as an organizing force within the body. What was outwardly somewhat decadent—which, because it had remained conservative, had become a decadent element of clairvoyance, something permeated with an Ahrimanic element—had in the right sense advanced by becoming a force active within the human being, organizing within the human being. Among the Hebrew people, it did not play itself out in a backward form of clairvoyance, but rather reorganized physicality and thereby made it more perfect in a conscious way. Everything that was decadent in Turanian culture had a creative and transformative effect on the Hebrew people.
[ 32 ] That is why we may say: In the physicality of the Hebrew people, which had been passed down through heredity in blood kinship from generation to generation, everything was at work that had fulfilled its time as external perception, that was no longer to be external perception, that was to enter a different arena in order to be in its proper element. What had given the Atlanteans the power to look inward into space and into spiritual realms, what had become atavistic among the Turanians as a remnant of clairvoyance—all of this worked within this small Hebrew people in such a way that it turned inward. Everything that was divine-spiritual in Atlantean culture worked within the Hebrew people, formed organs, shaped the body, and could therefore flash forth within the blood of the Hebrew people as the divine consciousness within. It was with the Hebrew people as if everything the Atlantean had seen when he sent his clairvoyant gaze in all directions of space—as if that had occurred—had turned entirely inward, in the innermost being as the organ consciousness of the Hebrew people, as the Yahweh or Jehovah consciousness, as the God-consciousness within. United with its blood, this people found the God who was spread out in space; it found itself permeated, imbued with the God who was spread out in space, and it knew that this God lives within it, in the pulsation of its blood.
[ 33 ] Thus, by contrasting Iranianism and Turanianism on the one hand, as we characterized them yesterday, and by now contrasting Turanianism and Hebraism on the other, we see that which is decadent in the Turanians pulsating in the blood of the Hebrew people—in its progress and in its very essence, as it was destined to be later. Thus, felt inwardly, all that the Atlantean saw comes to life. And it is summed up in a single word, in the word Yahweh or Jehovah. As if compressed into a single point, into a single center of God-consciousness, it lives on through the generations of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and so on, in the blood of the generations—invisible but inwardly felt—the God who had revealed Himself behind all beings to Atlantean clairvoyance, who was now the God in the blood of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and who guided these generations from destiny to destiny. In this way, the outer had become inner; it was experienced, no longer seen, and it was no longer designated by various individual names, but by a single name, namely: “I am the I-am!” It had taken on a completely different form. Whereas in the Atlantean era, humanity found it everywhere it was not—out in the world—humanity now found it where its center lay, in its I, and felt it in the blood flowing through the generations. That God of the Hebrew people, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who flows through the blood across the generations, has now become the great God of the world.
[ 34 ] This is how the national character is formed, which we will examine tomorrow in terms of its unique inner mission for human evolution. Today we have been able to touch only on the very first aspect of this people’s blood constitution, in which is concentrated within everything that humanity once allowed to penetrate from the outside during the Atlantean era. We shall see what mysteries unfold in what has thus been merely touched upon, and we shall come to know the peculiar nature of that people from whom Zarathustra was able to take his body to become the being we call Jesus of Nazareth.
