Awakening to Community
GA 257
13 February 1923, Stuttgart
Lecture IV
The development of conditions in the Anthroposophical Society makes it seem desirable to touch on at least a few of them again tonight. It was really never my intention to use lecture time to go into such matters as organizational and developmental aspects of the Society, for I see it as my task to work for pure anthroposophy, and I gladly leave everything related to the life and development of the Society to others who have assumed responsibility for it at the various places. But I hope to be able, at the delegates' meeting that will soon be held, to discuss at greater length the subject originally intended for presentation today. In view of the need evidenced by the way the Society's current concerns are going, you will perhaps allow me to make a few comments complementing what I said a week ago about the three phases of anthroposophical development.
Today, I want to bring out those aspects of the three phases that all three share in common; last week I concentrated, even though sketchily, on their differences.
I would like to start by discussing how a society like ours comes into being. I believe that what I am about to say could serve many a listener as a means to self-knowledge and thus prove a good preparation for the delegates' meeting.
It is certainly clear to anybody who keeps up with the way civilization and culture are presently developing that the times themselves demand the deepening of knowledge, the ethical practice, the inner religious life that anthroposophy has to offer. On the other hand, however, a society such as ours has to act as a vanguard in an ever wider disseminating of those elements that are so needed under the conditions that prevail today.
How is such a vanguard created? Everybody who has sought out the Anthroposophical Society from honest motives will probably recognize a piece of his own destiny in what I am about to describe.
If we look back over the twenty-one or twenty-two years of the Society's development, we will certainly discover that by far the greater number of those who approach the Society do so out of a sense of dissatisfaction with the spiritual, psychological and practical conditions they find surrounding them in life today. In the early days of the Society, which, when considered factually and not critically, might even be called its better days, something was taking place that almost amounted to flight from the life of the present into a different kind of life built on human community, a community where people could live in a way they felt in their souls to be in keeping with their dignity as human beings. This alienation from the spiritual, psychic and practical situation prevailing in the life around them must be taken into account as a factor in the founding of the Anthroposophical Society. For those who became anthroposophists were the first people to feel what millions and millions of others will be feeling keenly indeed in a not too distant future, that older forms have come down into the present from by-gone days in which they were not only fully justified but the product of historical necessity, but that they no longer provide what modern man's inner life requires and the dignity of full humanness demands.
Anyone who has a really open mind about these things and has come to anthroposophy in honest seeking will find, if he practices self-observation, that this drive to satisfy his soul needs in a special community rather than in just any other present day group of human beings is something that springs from the innermost core of his humanity, something he feels to be a special phenomenon of the present moment working its way to the surface of his soul from the eternal sources of all humanness. Those who have come honestly to anthroposophy therefore feel the need to belong to an anthroposophical community to be a real and deep concern of their hearts, something they cannot really do without if they are honest. But we must admit, too, that the very clarity (clarity of feeling, not of thought) with which people seek belonging in the anthroposophical community shows how little able the outer world presently is to satisfy a longing for full humanness. People would not feel so urgently impelled to seek anthroposophy if the soul's feeling of alienation from conditions existing in the world today had not become so particularly intense.
But let us go on and consider something else. What I have been describing thus far might be called a reversing of human will impulses. A person is born into a certain period and educated to be a man of his time. The result is that his will impulses simply coincide with those of all the rest of the human world around him. He grows up, and as he does so he grows without any great inner stirrings into the will tendencies of the surrounding population. It takes a deeply experienced inner revulsion against these habitual will impulses that he has adopted from the outside world to turn this erstwhile external will inward. When he does so, this reversing of the direction of his will causes him to notice the longing, experienced so keenly in our time, that wells up as though from eternal wellsprings, impelling him to seek a different belonging to the community of men than lay in the previous direction of his will.
Now everything that has to do with the will is intrinsically ethical and moral. The impulse that drives a person into the Anthroposophical Society is thus, in its will and feeling aspects at least, an ethical-moral impulse. Since this ethical impulse that has brought him into the Anthroposophical Society stirs him in his innermost holy of holies as it carries him to the eternal wellsprings of his soul life, it goes on to develop into a religious impulse. What otherwise lives itself out simply as a matter of response to externally imposed laws and traditional mores and as habits more or less thoughtlessly adopted from the life around one, in other words, everything of an ethical, moral, religious nature that had developed in the course of one's growing up, now turns inward and becomes a striving to make one's ethical-moral and religious being a full inner reality. But it is not consistent with full human stature for a person to couple his life of will and—to some extent at least—his life of feeling with the acceptance of just any haphazard type of knowledge.
The kind of knowledge that we may not, perhaps, absorb with our mother's milk, but are certainly receiving as inner soul training by the time we are six, and go on receiving—all these things that our minds in their learning capacity take in, confront the ethical, moral and religious elements in us as their polar opposite, though one perfectly harmonious and consistent with them. But they are by no means an inconsiderable item for a person who seeks to bring a religious deepening into his anthroposophical striving. The kind of life and practice that civilized man has developed in recent centuries is just exactly the kind from which an anthroposophist longs to free his moral, ethical and religious nature. Even if he makes compromises with the life about him, as indeed he must, his real desire is to escape from what the civilization of recent centuries has produced, leading as it has directly to the catastrophic present. It may be that this desire exists only as an instinct in many of those who seek out the Anthroposophical Movement, but it is definitely present.
Now let us recognize the fact that the factors accounting for the development of the religious and will impulses of recent centuries are the very same ones responsible for the direction and whole nuance of the modern life of learning. Only a victim of prejudice could believe and say that the modern way of knowledge has produced objective physics, objective mathematics, objective chemistry, that it is working toward an objective science of biology, and so on. That is pure prejudice. The real truth is that what we have had drummed into us from about our sixth year onward is the product of externally influenced will and religious impulses that have evolved during recent centuries. But when a person seeking anthroposophy wants to escape from these will impulses and from the religious forms in which man's moral life finds its highest expression, he cannot help asking at the same time for a way of knowledge in keeping not with the world he wants to leave behind but with the new world of his seeking. Since he has turned his will impulses inward, he must, in other words, strive for the kind of knowledge that corresponds to his in-turned will, that takes him ever further away from the externalized science that has been an outgrowth of the externalizing of all life in the civilized world in the past few centuries. An anthroposophist feels that he would have to be inconsequential and reverse the direction of his will again if he were not to change the direction of his knowledge. He would have to be a quite unthinking person to say, “I feel my humanity alien to the kind of life and practice that past centuries have brought us, but I feel quite at home with the knowledge they produced.” The kind of learning that the world he wants to escape from has acquired can never satisfy a person with an in-turned will. Many an individual may come to realize purely instinctively that the life and practice he longs to flee received their present form from the fact that man believes only in what his eyes see and what his mind makes of his physical observations. Seekers therefore turn to the invisible super-sensible realm as the basis of knowledge. Externalized forms of life and practice are outgrowths of a materialistic science, and a person impelled to regard these forms as subhuman rather than as fully human cannot feel suited by a science based on an exclusive belief in the external and material and what the mind concludes about them.
After the first act in the soul drama of the anthroposophist, the moral-religious act, there comes a second, one already contained in seed form in the first. It consists in a compulsion to seek super-sensible knowledge. That the Anthroposophical Society builds its content on knowledge received from super-sensible worlds is something that comes about quite of itself. Everything that the will thus experiences as its destiny, everything that the striving for insight recognizes as its seeking, is fused into one indivisible whole in the heart and soul of an anthroposophist; it is the very core of his life and his humanity. As such it shapes and colors his whole attitude, the state of soul in which he takes his place in the Society.
But now let us weigh the consequences this implies for an anthroposophically oriented person. He cannot just cut himself loose from external life and practice. He has taken flight into the Anthroposophical Society, but life's outer needs continue on, and he cannot get away from them in a single step or with one stroke. So his soul is caught and divided between his continuing outer life and the ideal life and knowledge that he has embraced in concept as a member of the Anthroposophical Society. A cleavage of this sort can be a painful and even tragic experience, and it becomes such to a degree determined by the depth or superficiality of the individual. But this very pain, this tragedy, contains the most precious seeds of the new, constructive life that has to be built up in the midst of our decaying culture. For the truth is that everything in life that flowers and bears fruit is an outgrowth of pain and suffering. It is perhaps just those individuals with the deepest sense of the Society's mission who have to have the most personal experience of pain and suffering as they take on that mission, though it is also true that real human strength can only be developed by rising above suffering and making it a living force, the source of one's power to overcome.
The path that leads into the Society consists firstly, then, in changing the direction of one's will; secondly, in experiencing super-sensible knowledge; lastly, in participating in the destiny of one's time to a point where it becomes one's personal destiny. One feels oneself sharing mankind's evolution in the act of reversing one's will and experiencing the super-sensible nature of all truth. Sharing the experience of the time's true significance is what gives us our first real feeling for the fact of our humanness. The term “Anthroposophy” should really be understood as synonymous with “Sophia,” meaning the content of consciousness, the soul attitude and experience that make a man a full-fledged human being. The right interpretation of “Anthroposophy” is not “the wisdom of man,” but rather “the consciousness of one's humanity.” In other words, the reversing of the will, the experiencing of knowledge, and one's participation in the time's destiny, should all aim at giving the soul a certain direction of consciousness, a “Sophia.”
What I have been describing here are the factors that brought the Anthroposophical Society into being. The Society wasn't really founded; it just came about. You cannot carry on a pre-conceived campaign to found a thing that is developing out of some genuine inner reality. An Anthroposophical Society could come into being only because there were people predisposed to the reversal of their wills, to the living knowledge, to the participation in the time's destiny that I have just characterized, and because something then made its appearance from some quarter that was able to meet what lived as those needs in those specific hearts. But such a coming together of human beings could take place only in our age, the age of the consciousness soul, and those who do not as yet rightly conceive the nature of the consciousness soul cannot understand this development. An example was provided by a university don who made the curious statement that three people once joined forces and formed the executive committee of the Anthroposophical Society. This donnish brain (it is better to be specific about what part of him was involved, since there can be no question in his case of fully developed humanness), this brain ferreted out the necessity of asking who selected them and authorized them to do such a thing. Well, what freer way could there possibly be for a thing to start than for three people to turn up and announce that they have such and such a purpose, and anyone who wants to join them in pursuing it is welcome, and if someone doesn't, why, that's all right too? Everyone was certainly left perfectly free. Nothing could have shown more respect for freedom than the way the Anthroposophical Society came into being. It corresponds exactly to the developmental level of the consciousness soul period. But one can perfectly well be a university don without having entered the consciousness soul age, and in that case will have no understanding for matters intimately allied to freedom.
I know how uncomfortable it makes some people when things of this kind have to be dealt with for the simple reason that they are there confronting us. They throw light, however, on the question of what must be done to provide the Society with what it needs to go on living. But since anthroposophists have to keep on being part of the world around them and can escape from it on the soul level only, they become prone to the special nuance of soul experience that I have been describing and that can run the gamut of inner suffering to the point of actual tragedy. Soul experience of this kind played a particularly weighty role in the coming into being of the Anthroposophical Society. Not only this: it is constantly being re-lived in the case of everyone who has since sought out the society. The Society naturally has to reckon with this common element, which is so deeply rooted in its social life, as with one of the lasting conditions of its existence.
It is natural, too, that in an evolution that has gone through three phases, newcomers to the Movement should find themselves in the first phase with their feeling life. Many a difficulty stems from the fact that the Society's leaders have the duty of reconciling the three co-existing phases with one another. For they go on side by side even though they developed in succession. Furthermore, in their aspect as past stages in a sequence, they belong to the past, and are hence memories, whereas in their simultaneous aspect they are presently still being lived. A theoretical or doctrinaire approach is therefore out of place in this situation. What those who want to help foster anthroposophical life need instead is loving hearts and eyes opened to the totality of that life. Just as growing old can mean developing a crochety disposition, becoming inwardly as well as outwardly wrinkled and bald-headed, losing all feeling for recalling one's young days vividly enough to make them seem immediate experience, so too is it possible to enter the Society as late as, say, 1919 and fail to sense the fresh, new, burgeoning, sprouting life of the Movement's first phase. This is a capacity one must work to develop. Otherwise, the right heart and feeling are missing in one's relation to anthroposophy, with the result that though one may scorn and look down upon doctrines and theories in other spheres of life, one's efforts to foster anthroposophical life cannot help becoming doctrinaire. This does serious damage to a thing as alive as an Anthroposophical Society ought to be.
Now, a curious kind of conflict arose during the third phase of the Movement. It began in 1919. I am not going to judge it from an ethical standpoint at the moment, although thoughtlessness is indeed a will impulse of sorts, and hence a question of ethics. When something is left undone, due to thoughtlessness, and that same thoughtlessness leads to a lot of fiddling around where a firm will is what is really needed, one can surely see that an ethical-moral element is involved. But I am not as much interested in going into that aspect of the subject today as I am in discussing the conflict into which it plunged the Society, a long-latent conflict. It must be brought out into the open and frankly discussed.
In the first phases of anthroposophical development, there was a tendency for the anthroposophist to split into two people. One part was, say, an office manager, who did what he had to do in that capacity. He poured his will into channels formed by the way things have developed in modern external life and practice during the past few centuries, channels from which his innermost soul longed to escape. But he was caught in them, caught with his will.
Now let us be perfectly clear about the will's intense involvement in all such pursuits. From one end of the day to the other, the will is involved in every single thing one does as an office manager or whatever. If one happens to be a schoolmaster or a professor instead of an office manager and is therefore more involved in thinking, that thinking also flows into one's will impulses, insofar as it has bearing on external life. In other words, one's will really remains connected with things outside oneself. It is just because the soul wants to escape from the direction the will is taking that it enters the Anthroposophical Society with its thought and feeling. So the man of will ends up in one place, the man of thought and feeling in another. Of course, this made some people happy indeed, for many a little sectarian group thought it a most praiseworthy undertaking to meet and “send out good thoughts” at the end of a day spent exerting its members' wills in the most ordinary channels. People formed groups of this sort and sent out good thoughts, escaping from their outer lives into a life that, while I cannot call it unreal, consisted exclusively of thoughts and feelings. Each individual split himself in two, one part going to an office or a classroom, the other attending an anthroposophical meeting where he led an entirely different kind of life. But when a number of anthroposophically thinking and feeling people were moved to apply their wills to the establishing of anthroposophical enterprises capable of full and vigorous life, they had to include those wills in the total human equipment needed for the job. That was the origin of the conflicts that broke out. It is comparatively easy to train oneself to send out good thoughts intended to keep a friend on a mountain climb from breaking his legs. It is much harder to pour good thoughts so strongly into a will engaged in some external, material activity that matter itself becomes imbued with spirit as a result of one's having thus exerted one's humanness. Many an undertaking has suffered shipwreck because of an inability to do that, during the Society's third phase of development. There was no shortage of fine intelligences and geniuses—I say this very sincerely—but the intelligence and genius available were not sufficiently applied to stiffening and strengthening the wills involved.
If you look at the matter from the standpoint of the heart, what a difference you see! Think how dissatisfied the heart is with one's external life! One feels dissatisfied not only because other people are so mean and everything falls so short of perfection, but because life itself doesn't always make things easy for us. You'll agree that it isn't invariably a featherbed. Living means work. Here one has this hard life on the one hand, and on the other the Anthroposophical Society. One enters the Society laden with all one's dissatisfaction. As a thinking and feeling person one finds satisfaction there because one is receiving something that is not available in the outer life one is justifiably so dissatisfied with. One finds satisfaction in the Anthroposophical Society. There is even the advantage there that one's thoughts, which in other situations are so circumscribed by will's impotence, take wing quite easily when one sits in a circle sending out good thoughts to keep the legs of friends on mountain climbs from getting broken. Thoughts fly easily to every part of the world, and are thus very satisfying. They make up for one's external life, which is always causing one such justifiable dissatisfaction.
Now along comes the Anthroposophical Society and itself starts projects that call for the inclusion of the will. So now one not only has to be an office manager in the outer world, though with an Anthroposophical Society to flee to and to look back from at one's unsatisfactory life outside—a life one may, on occasion, complain about there; one now faces both kinds of life within the Society, and is expected to live them there in a satisfied rather than dissatisfied state of mind!
But this was inevitable if the Society wanted to go farther and engage in actual deeds. Beginning in 1919 it did want to do that.
Then something strange happened, something that could probably happen only in the Anthroposophical Society, namely, that people no longer knew what to do with their share of dissatisfaction, which everyone naturally wants to go on having. For one can hardly accuse the Society of making one dissatisfied. But that attitude doesn't last. In the long run people do ascribe their dissatisfaction to it. What they ought to do instead is to achieve the stage of inner development that progresses from thoughts and feelings to will, and one does achieve just that on a rightly travelled anthroposophical path. If you look in Knowledge of the Higher Worlds, you will see that nowhere is there a recommendation for developing thought that does not include aspects that bear on will development.
But modern humanity suffers from two evils, both of which must be overcome in the Society. One is fear of the super-sensible. This unadmitted fear accounts for every enemy the Anthroposophical Movement has. Our enemies really suffer from something that resembles a fear of water. You know, of course, that a fear of water can express itself in another, violently compulsive form, and so we need not be surprised if the kind I am referring to sometimes vents itself in a sort of phobia. Sometimes, of course, it can be comparatively harmless. Some people find anthroposophy a rewarding subject to write about; these books bring in money and appear on book lists. There must be themes to write about, and not everybody has one inside him, so it has to be borrowed from the world outside. The motives in such cases are sometimes more harmless than one might suppose. But their effects are not equally harmless.
Fear of super-sensible knowledge, then, is one characteristic of the human race. But that fear is made to wear the mask of the scientific approach, and the scientific approach, with the limits to knowledge it accepts, is in direct line of inheritance from man's ancient Fall into error. The only difference is that the ancients conceived the Fall as something man ought to overcome. The post-scholastic period is still haunted by a belief in the Fall. But whereas an earlier, moralistic view of it held that man was born evil and must overcome his nature, the intellectualistic view holds that man cannot gain access to the super-sensible with his mind or change his nature. Man's willingness to accept limits to knowledge is actually an inheritance from the Fall he suffered. In better days he at least tried to overcome error. But conceited modern man not only wants to retain his fallen status; he is actually intent on staying fallen and loving the devil, or at least trying to love him.
That is the first of the two evils. The second is the weakness, the inner paralysis that afflicts modern human wills, despite their seeming activity, which is often nothing more than pretense. I must add that both these ominous characteristics of modern civilization and culture are qualities that anthroposophical life must overcome. If this anthroposophical life is to develop in a practical direction, everything it undertakes must be born of fearless knowledge and a really strong will. This presupposes learning to live with the world in a truly anthroposophical way. People used to learn to live anthroposophically by fleeing the world. But they will have to learn to live anthroposophically with the world and to carry the anthroposophical impulse into everyday life and practice. That means making one single whole again of the person hitherto split into an anthroposophist and a practical man. But this cannot be done so long as a life lived shut away from the world as though by towering fortress walls that one cannot see over is mistaken for an anthroposophical life. This sort of thing cannot go on in the Society. We should keep our eyes wide open to everything that is happening in the world around us, that will imbue us with the right will impulses. But as I said the last time, the Society has not kept pace with anthroposophical life during the third phase of anthroposophy, and the will element is what has failed to do so. We have had to call away individuals who formerly guided activities in the various branches and assign them tasks in connection with this or that new enterprise, with the frequent result that a person who made an able Waldorf School teacher became a poor anthroposophist. (This is not meant as a criticism of any of our institutions. The Waldorf School is highly regarded by the world at large, not just by circles close to it, and it can be stated in all modesty that no reason exists to complain about any of the various institutions, or if there is, it is on an entirely different score than that of ability.) It is possible to be both a first-rate Waldorf teacher and a poor anthroposophist, and the same thing is true of able workers in the other enterprises. The point is, though, that all the various enterprises are outgrowths of anthroposophy. This must be kept firmly in mind. Being a real anthroposophist is the all-important thing. Waldorf teachers, workers at Der Kommende Tag, scientists, medical men and other such specialists simply must not turn their backs on the anthroposophical source or take the attitude that there is no time left from their work for anthroposophical concerns of a general nature. Otherwise, though these enterprises may continue to flourish for a while, due to the fact that anthroposophy itself is full of life and passes it on to its offspring, that life cannot be maintained indefinitely, and the offspring movements too would eventually die for lack of it.
We are dealing with enemies who will not meet us on objective ground. It is characteristic of them that they avoid coming to grips with what anthroposophy itself is, and instead ask questions like, “How are anthroposophical facts discovered?” or “What is this clairvoyance?” or “Does so and so drink coffee or milk?” and other such matters that have no bearing on the subject, though they are what is most talked about. But enemies intent on destroying anthroposophy resort to slander, and samples of it have been turning up of late in phenomena that would have been quite unthinkable just a short while ago, before civilization reached its lowest ebb. Now, however, they have become possible. I don't want to go into the specifics; that can be left to others who presumably also feel real heart's concern for the fate of anthroposophy. But since I was able to be with you here today I wanted to bring up these problems. From the standpoint of the work in Dornach it was not an opportune moment for me to leave, however happily opportune it was to be here; there are always two sides to everything. I was needed in Dornach, but since I could have the deep satisfaction of talking with you here again today, let me just add this. What is most needed now is to learn to feel anthroposophically, to feel anthroposophy living in our very hearts. That can happen only in a state of fullest clarity, not of mystical becloudedness. Anthroposophy can stand exposure to the light. Other movements that claim they are similar cannot endure light; they feel at home in the darkness of sectarianism. But anthroposophy can stand light in all its fulness; far from shrinking from exposure to it, anthroposophy enters into the light with all its heart, with its innermost heart's warmth. Unfounded personal slander, which sometimes goes so far that the persons attacked are unrecognizable, can be branded for what it is. Where enmity is an honest thing, anthroposophy can always reply on an objective basis. Objective debate, however, requires going into the question of methods that lead to anthroposophical knowledge. No objective discussion is possible without satisfying that requirement. Anybody with a heart and a healthy mind can take in anthroposophy, but discussions about it have to be based on studying its methods and getting to understand how its knowledge is derived. Experimentation and deduction do not call for inner development; they merely require a training that can be given anybody. A person with no further background is in no position to carry on a debate about anthroposophy without undergoing training in its methods.
But the easy-going people of our time are not about to let themselves in for any such training. They cling to the dogma that man has reached perfection, and they don't want to hear a word about developing. But neither goodness nor truth are accessible to man unless he acts in the very core of his free being to open up the way to them. Those who realize what impulses are essential to sharing with one's heart in the life and guidance of the Anthroposophical Society and who know how to assess its enemies' motives will, if they have sufficient goodwill, also find the strength needed to bring through to a wholesome conclusion these concerns with which, it was stated before I began this talk, the Society itself is also eager to deal.
Vierter Vortrag
Die Entwickelung der Verhältnisse innerhalb der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft lassen mir es doch wünschenswert erscheinen, auch heute abend wenigstens einige mit diesen Angelegenheiten zusammenhängende Probleme zu streifen. Es ist eigentlich niemals meine Absicht, auf die Entwickelungsbedingungen, die Organisation und dergleichen der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft in Vorträgen einzugehen, da ich als meine Aufgabe betrachten muß, für die Anthroposophie selbst zu wirken, und gerne die Auseinandersetzungen über die Lebensbedingungen und die Entwickelungsfaktoren der Gesellschaft andern überlasse, welche da und dort die Leitung der Gesellschaft auf sich genommen haben. Nun hoffe ich aber, über das Thema, das ich vielleicht sonst heute hier behandelt hätte, gerade nächstens bei der Delegiertenversammlung ausführlicher sprechen zu können, und darf mir daher gestatten, aus der Notwendigkeit heraus, die zusammenhängt mit der Entwickelung eben der laufenden Angelegenheiten der Gesellschaft, heute einiges zu Ihnen zu sprechen in Ergänzung dessen, was ich vor acht Tagen über die drei Phasen der anthroposophischen Entwickelung hier vorzubringen mir erlaubt habe.
Ich möchte heute mehr über dasjenige sprechen, was nun wiederum diesen drei Phasen gemeinsam ist, deren Unterschied ich ja das letzte Mal zu charakterisieren versucht habe, wenn auch nur ganz skizzenhaft. Ich möchte ausgehen davon, wie eigentlich so etwas wie die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft zustande kommt. Es wird, wie ich glaube, das, was ich zu sagen haben werde, für manchen gerade als Vorbereitung zur angekündigten Delegiertenversammlung eine Art Hilfe zur anthroposophischen Selbsterkenntnis sein können. Gewiß ist auf der einen Seite für den, der die Entwickelung der Zivilisation und Kultur in der Gegenwart verfolgen kann, klar, daß die anthroposophische Vertiefung unseres Erkenntnislebens, unseres ethisch-praktischen und innerlich-religiösen Lebens eine Zeitnotwendigkeit ist. Aber auf der andern Seite ist so etwas wie die Anthrosophische Gesellschaft eine Art Vortrupp für das, was einfach aus der Notwendigkeit der Zeitverhältnisse heraus immer weitere Ausbreitung gewinnen muß. Und wie kommt dieser Vortrupp eigentlich zustande? Jeder wird vielleicht in dem, was ich zu sagen habe, wenn er in ehrlicher Weise an die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft herangekommen ist, ein Stück eigenen Schicksals darin erblicken. Im Grunde genommen, wenn wir die einbis zweiundzwanzig Jahre anthroposophischer Gesellschaftsentwickelung überblicken, so finden wir ganz gewiß, daß in der überwiegendsten Mehrzahl an die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft Menschen herankommen, die in irgendeiner Weise sich unbefriedigt fühlen von dem, was sie an geistigen, seelischen und auch äußerlich praktischen Lebensbedingungen umgibt in der äußeren Welt. Namentlich in den ersten, vielleicht sogar besseren Zeiten der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft nicht im üblen Sinne ist das gemeint, sondern rein als Tatsache - ist schon etwas gewesen wie eine Art Flucht aus dem Gegenwartsleben in ein anderes Leben einer Menschengemeinschaft hinein, einer Menschengemeinschaft, wo auch ausgelebt werden kann dasjenige, was man aus der eigenen Seele heraus als das eigentlich Menschenwürdige empfindet. Dieses Sich-Entfremden gegenüber den äußeren, geistigen, seelischen und praktischen Lebensbedingungen muß man bei der Bildung der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft durchaus ins Auge fassen. Denn diejenigen, die Anthroposophen wurden, sind ja zunächst Menschen, die eben das zuallererst empfinden, was ganz gewiß im Laufe einer verhältnismäßig gar nicht langen Zukunft Millionen und Millionen von Menschen recht deutlich empfinden und erleben werden: Es ist das Erleben, daß herkömmliche Formen, die sich durchaus nicht ungerechtfertigt, sondern mit historischer Notwendigkeit aus vergangenen Zeiten in die Gegenwart herauf gebildet haben, nicht mehr aus sich heraus das liefern, was der Mensch aus seinem Innenleben heraus heute fordert, fordert um seiner Menschenwürde willen, fordert deshalb, weil er nur durch diese Forderung ganz Mensch sein kann.
Wer unbefangen auf diese Dinge hinsieht, der wird namentlich bei einiger Selbstprüfung, wenn er eben ehrlich Anthroposoph geworden ist, finden, daß dieser Drang, in einer besonderen Menschengemeinschaft gegenüber den andern heutigen Menschengemeinschaften die Bedürfnisse seiner Seele zu befriedigen, wie etwas tief aus dem innersten Menschlichen Hervorquellendes ist, etwas, wovon man schon fühlen kann, daß es aus den ewigen Quellen alles Menschentums sich gerade in unserer Zeit an die Oberfläche der Seele heraufarbeitet. Und deshalb empfinden ja diejenigen, die ehrlich an Anthroposophie herangekommen sind, diesen Zusammenschluß mit einer anthroposophischen Gemeinschaft als wirkliche innere Herzensangelegenheit, als etwas, wovon sie, je ehrlicher sie sind, sich sagen, daß sie ohne ihn eigentlich doch nicht sein können. Nun müssen wir uns aber auch gestehen, daß aus der Deutlichkeit, aus der Klarheit - ich meine jetzt Klarheit im Fühlen, nicht-im Denken -, aus denen heraus dieser Anschluß an die anthroposophische Gemeinschaft entsteht, schon ersehen werden kann, wieviel in uns Unbefriedigendes für das Vollmenschliche in der heutigen äußeren Welt ist. Es würde ja der ehrliche Drang eines Menschen nicht mit jener Heftigkeit zur Anthroposophie hinneigen können, wenn nicht eben die Entfremdung mit den heutigen äußeren Verhältnissen, namentlich seelischer Art, so besonders stark wäre.
Aber sehen wir nach etwas anderem hin. Dasjenige, was ich bisher auseinandergesetzt habe, ist etwas, das man nennen könnte eine Umkehrung der menschlichen Willensimpulse. Wenn der Mensch so in eine gewisse Zeitepoche hineingeboren ist, wenn er hineinerzogen wird in eine bestimmte Zeitepoche, dann laufen ja zunächst seine Willensimpulse in die landläufigen, gewohnten Willensimpulse seiner Umgebung hinein. Der Mensch wächst auf, und er wächst, ohne daß sich innerlich viel in ihm regt, in die Willensrichtungen hinein, die auch die Willensrichtungen seiner Umgebung sind. Es muß sich schon in seinem Inneren, im tiefsten Herzen muß sich etwas regen, was innerlich gemüthaft Anstoß nimmt an den eigenen Willensrichtungen, die er sich durch eine gewisse Zeit seines Lebens gegeben hat nach den äußeren Lebensgewohnheiten seiner Umgebung, damit er die Willensrichtung, die sich eigentlich bis dahin nur veräußerlicht hat, nun nach innen wendet. Wenn er sie aber nach innen wendet, dann wird er durch diese Umwendung des Willens aufmerksam auf dasjenige, was eben, insbesondere in unserer heutigen Zeitepoche, wie aus ewigen Quellen der Menschenseele heraufquillt als ein Verlangen nach einem andern SichHineinfügen in die Menschengemeinschaft, als es eben in den gewohnten Willensrichtungen liegt. Und alles, was mit dem Willen zusammenhängt, ist ja etwas Ethisches, ist etwas Moralisches, und so ist eigentlich wenigstens dem Willens- und Empfindungsimpuls nach dasjenige, was den Menschen in die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft hineintreibt, ein moralischer Impuls zunächst, ein ethischer Impuls. Und indem dann der Mensch sein heiligstes Inneres mit diesem ethischen Impuls berührt, indem er durch diesen ethischen Impuls herankommt an die ewigen Quellen seines seelischen Lebens, wird der ethische Impuls, der ihn in eine anthroposophische Gemeinschaft hineingetrieben hat, auch, ich möchte sagen, wie in seiner Fortsetzung ein religiöser Impuls. Und so wird eigentlich das, was sonst bei den Menschen sich betätigt in der Befolgung äußerer Sittengebote und Rechtsregeln und in der Befolgung der Lebensgewohnheiten, wodurch sie mehr oder weniger gedankenlos aufwachsen in der gewohnten Umgebung, es wird das, was in diesem Aufwachsen ethisch, moralisch, religiös ist, umgekehrt nach dem Inneren, und es wird das ein Streben nach moralisch-ethischer und religiöser Verinnerlichung. Aber der Mensch mit seiner vollen Menschlichkeit kann nicht ein bloß wollendes und etwa noch fühlendes Seelenleben entwickeln und dazu jede beliebige Erkenntnis hinnehmen.
Diejenigen Erkenntnisse, die wir heute schon, ich will nicht sagen mit der Muttermilch einsaugen, aber mindestens mit dem sechsten Lebensjahre als eine innere Seelentrainierung empfangen, welche sich dann immer weiter fortsetzt, alle diese Dinge, die unser Verstand, unsere Erkenntniskraft aufnimmt und die einen Gegenpol bilden müssen gegenüber dem Ethischen, Moralischen und Religiösen - aber einen solchen Gegenpol, der mit diesem Ethischen, Moralischen und Religiösen in Harmonie und Einklang ist -, alle diese Erkenntnisse sind ja nicht gleichgültig gegenüber dem religiösen Verinnerlichen des anthroposophischen Strebens. Gerade diejenige Lebensführung und Lebenspraxis, aus der der Anthroposoph moralisch, ethisch, religiös herauswill, sie ist ja diejenige Lebensführung und Lebenspraxis, die sich vorzugsweise in den letzten Jahrhunderten innerhalb der zivilisierten Menschheit heraufgebildet hat. Und eigentlich will der Anthroposoph, wenn er auch dann seine Kompromisse schließt, ja schließen muß mit demjenigen, was äußeres Leben ist, doch heraus aus dem, was die Menschheitszivilisation in den letzten Jahrhunderten heraufgebracht hat und was ja in die furchtbare Katastrophe der Gegenwart hineingeführt hat. Bei sehr vielen, die zur anthroposophischen Bewegung kommen, ist das gewiß mehr oder weniger instinktiv, allein es ist eben durchaus vorhanden.
Und nun seien wir uns doch klar darüber: Dasjenige, was sich als Wollensziele, als religiöse Impulse entwickelt hat im Laufe der letzten Jahrhunderte, das ist es ja, was auch hervorgebracht hat die ganze Richtung, die ganze Nuance des Erkenntnislebens der neueren Zeit. Nur wer in Vorurteilen befangen ist, steht ja heute in dem Erkenntnisleben so darinnen, daß er sagt: Wir haben eine objektive Physik, eine objektive Mathematik, eine objektive Chemie, streben nach einer objektiven Biologie und so weiter. - Das ist ein Vorurteil. In Wahrheit liegt die Sache so, daß dasjenige, was, wie gesagt, schon von seinem sechsten Lebensjahre ab heute den Menschen eintrainiert wird, doch das Ergebnis ist jener äußeren Willensformationen und religiösen Impulse, die sich in den letzten Jahrhunderten heraufgebildet haben. Wenn aber derjenige, der nach Anthroposophie strebt, heraus will aus diesen Willensimpulsen, ja auch aus dem, was sich in religiösen Formen als Krönung des moralischen Lebens abspielt, dann kann er auf der andern Seite nicht anders als auch nach einer Erkenntnis verlangen, welche entspricht nicht der Welt, die er verlassen will, sondern der Welt, die er suchen will. Das heißt, der Anthroposoph muß, da er seine Willensimpulse nach innen gewendet hat, auch nach einer Erkenntnisart streben, die diesem nach innen gewendeten Willen entspricht: also nach einer Erkenntnisart, die wegführt von jener äußerlichen Wissenschaft, die eben mit der Veräußerlichung des Lebens in den letzten Jahrhunderten innerhalb der zivilisierten Gebiete heraufgekommen ist. Und fühlen wird der Anthroposoph, wie er gedankenlos seinen Willen umwenden müßte, wenn er nicht zu gleicher Zeit seine Erkenntnis umwendete. Gedankenlos müßte er sein, wenn er sich nicht sagte: Ich fühle mich als Mensch fremd innerhalb derjenigen Lebensführung und Lebenspraxis, die da heraufgekommen ist, aber ich kann mich verwandt fühlen mit dem, was als Erkenntnis heraufgekommen ist. -— Die Erkenntnis, die sich die zu fliehende Welt erworben hat, kann auch nicht die befriedigende Erkenntnis für den die Willensimpulse umwendenden Menschen sein. Und dadurch kommt vielleicht wiederum mancher ganz instinktiv darauf, daß die Lebenspraxis, der er entfliehen will, ihre Form, ihre Gestalt gerade dadurch angenommen hat, daß sie nur noch glaubt an das, was äußerlich sichtbar und mit dem Verstande aus dem Sichtbaren zu kombinieren ist. Deshalb wendet sich der also Suchende nach demjenigen hin, was übersinnlichunsichtbar ist als Grundlage der Erkenntnis. Wie für eine veräußerlichte Lebensführung und Lebenspraxis eine nach dem Materialistischen hinschauende Wissenschaft das Entsprechende ist, so ist für den, der diese Lebensführung und Lebenspraxis nicht als das Vollmenschliche, sondern als das Untermenschliche ansehen muß, auch nicht das Rechte eine Wissenschaft, die ihren Glauben nur, ich möchte sagen, auf die andere Seite dieser Lebensführung und Lebenspraxis, auf das Äußerlich-Materielle und verstandesmäßig zu Erfassende richtet. Und so entsteht, nachdem der erste Akt im Seelendrama des Anthroposophen ein moralisch-religiöser war, der zweite Akt, der aber schon in dem ersten wie keimhaft darinnen liegt: der Drang nach der übersinnlichen Erkenntnis. Es bildet sich ganz von selbst heraus, daß die Hinnahme einer Botschaft von übersinnlicher Erkenntnis Inhalt einer Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft wird. Das alles, was in dieser Weise der Wille als sein Schicksal erfährt, was das Erkenntnisstreben als sein Suchen anerkennen muß, gliedert sich zusammen in Herz und Seele des Anthroposophen als ein Ganzes, als sein eigentlicher Lebens- und Menschenkern, und das alles bildet zusammen die Totalität seiner Gesinnung. Und mit dieser Gesinnung steht er dann zunächst innerhalb der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft darinnen.
Aber nun betrachten wir die Lage, in die er dadurch versetzt ist, der anthroposophisch Gebildete. Er kann nicht ohne weiteres die äußere Lebensführung und Lebenspraxis verlassen. Er flüchtet sich zunächst in die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft hinein, aber die äußeren Lebensnotwendigkeiten bestehen, sie können nicht mit einem Schritt und einem Schlag verlassen werden. Und so entsteht ein Zwiespalt in der Seele des Anthroposophen mit Bezug auf sein äußeres Leben und mit Bezug auf dasjenige, das ihm als ein Glied der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft ein Ideal des Lebens und ein Ideal des Erkennens wird. Dieser Zwiespalt kann, je nachdem der eine oder der andere eine tiefere oder oberflächlichere Natur ist, ein mehr oder weniger schmerzlicher, ja tragischer sein. Aber in diesem Schmerze, in dieser Tragik sind zugleich enthalten die wertvollsten Keime für dasjenige, was aufbauendes Leben in unserer niedergehenden Zivilisation sein muß. Schließlich wird alles das, was sich im Leben zur Blütenhaftigkeit, zur Fruchthaftigkeit entfaltet, dennoch aus Schmerzen und aus dem Leide geboren. Und vielleicht empfindet der am tiefsten die Mission der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft, der das Hineinleben in diese Mission als sein Leid, als seinen Schmerz empfinden muß, wenn eben auch das eigentlich Kraftvolle in der Menschennatur allein darin bestehen kann, daß der Mensch die innerliche Macht findet, sich über Leid und Schmerz. so zu erheben, daß im Erleben, im Erfahren des Leides und des Schmerzes der Punkt erreicht werde, wo das Schmerzvolle, das Leidvolle zur Kraft des Lebens, zur bezwingenden Lebensmacht selber wird.
Und so, möchte ich sagen, besteht der Weg hin zur Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft zunächst in einer Umwendung des Willensimpulses, dann in einem Erleben der übersinnlichen Erkenntnis, dann aber im Miterleben des Zeitenschicksals, das Schicksal der eigenen Seele wird. Und man fühlt sich dann innerhalb der Menschheitsentwickelung darinnen gerade durch diese Umwendung des Willens, durch dieses Erfahren der Übersinnlichkeit alles Wahrheitswesens. Durch dieses Miterleben des eigentlichen Sinnes des Zeitalters fühlt man sich erst im vollen Sinne des Wortes als Mensch. Im Grunde genommen soll ja Anthroposophie nichts anderes sein als jene Sophia, das heißt jener Bewußtseinsinhalt, jenes innerlich Erlebte in der menschlichen Seelenverfassung, die den Menschen zum vollen Menschen macht. Nicht «Weisheit vom Menschen» ist die richtige Interpretation des Wortes Anthroposophie, sondern «Bewußtsein seines Menschentums»; das heißt, hinzielen sollen Willensumwendung, Erkenntniserfahrung, Miterleben des Zeitenschicksals dahin, der Seele eine Bewußtseinsrichtung, eine Sophia zu geben.
Das, was ich eben charakterisiert habe, es hat geführt zur ursprünglichen Entstehung der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft. Diese ist ja nicht eigentlich begründet worden; sie ist ja entstanden. Durch irgendeine Agitation, wie sich das mancher vorstellt, kann man ja so etwas, was auf ehrlicher Innerlichkeit begründet ist, nicht machen. Anthroposophische Gesellschaft kann ja nur entstehen dadurch, daß Menschen da sind, die eine Veranlagung haben zu der charakterisierten Willensumwendung, zu solchem Erkenntnisleben und solchem Miterfahren des Zeitenschicksals, und daß dann von irgendwoher dasjenige erscheint, das in einer gewissen Weise entgegenkommt dem, was in den menschlichen Herzen lebt, die da sind. Aber solch ein Zusammenfinden von Menschen ist ja eigentlich erst in unserem Zeitalter, in dem Zeitalter der Bewußtseinsseelenentwickelung möglich und wird von allen denen nicht begriffen, die eigentlich noch gar nicht darinnenstehen in der Erfassung des Charakters der Bewußtseinsseelenentwickelung. So zum Beispiel konnte selbst von seiten eines Universitätsdozenten eine merkwürdige Behauptung auftreten, die Behauptung, daß sich einmal drei Menschen gefunden haben, die den Zentralvorstand der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft bildeten. Und jenes Universitätsdozentengehirn - es ist besser, wenn man da spezialisiert nach den Körperteilen, denn Vollmenschlichkeit liegt diesen Dingen nicht zugrunde -, jenes Universitätsdozentengehirn fand heraus, daß man die Frage stellen müsse: Ja, wer hat denn die drei gewählt, woher haben sie denn ihr Mandat genommen? - Ja, wie kann denn etwas auf freiere Weise entstehen als dadurch, daß sich drei Menschen hinstellen und sagen: Das und das wollen wir; wer da will, schließt sich uns an, wer nicht will, eben nicht. — Das steht doch ganz gewiß jedem frei. Es gibt also nichts, was der Freiheit der Menschen mehr Rechnung trägt als diese Entstehung der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft. Sie allein ist dem Bewußtseinszeitalter in der Menschheitsentwickelung angemessen. Aber man kann ja auch Universitätsdozent sein, ohne das Zeitalter der Bewußtseinsentwickelung erreicht zu haben; dann, nicht wahr, wird man dasjenige nicht begreifen, was im eminentesten Sinne nach der Freiheit hin tendiert.
Ich weiß, wie unangenehm es manchem immer war, wenn ab und zu nötig geworden ist, derlei Dinge doch zu besprechen, weil sie einfach da sind. Aber diese Dinge beleuchten ja dennoch dasjenige, was notwendig ist, damit die Lebensbedingungen der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft erfüllt werden können. Weil aber der Anthroposoph zunächst in der äußeren Welt doch darinnen stehenbleiben muß, der er eigentlich nur, zunächst nur, mit seiner Seele entfliehen kann, deshalb entsteht, wie ich schon angedeutet habe, vom inneren Leide bis zur Tragik hin eine besondere Nuance des seelischen Erlebens. Dieses seelische Erleben wurde ja besonders stark durchgemacht bei der Entstehung der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft. Aber von denen, die zur Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft später gekommen sind und die heute kommen, wird ja dasjenige, was, ich möchte sagen, andere schon vor Jahrzehnten oder vielleicht vor Jahren durchgemacht haben, immer wieder von neuem durchgemacht. Und mit diesem, im sozialen Leben der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft ja Begründeten, hat natürlich die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft als mit einer ihrer Lebensbedingungen zu rechnen. Es ist ganz natürlich, daß, wenn die anthroposophische Entwickelung durch drei Phasen gegangen ist, diejenigen, die heute frisch an die anthroposophische Bewegung herankommen, mit ihren Herzen in der ersten Phase sind. Und viele Schwierigkeiten liegen eben darin, daß den führenden Persönlichkeiten der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft eigentlich die Pflicht erwächst, in Einklang zu bringen dasjenige, was die drei Phasen nebeneinander sind: die erste, zweite und dritte. Sie sind ja nacheinander, und sie sind zu gleicher Zeit nebeneinander. Und noch dazu: Nacheinander sind sie zum Teil Erinnerung, Vergangenes; nebeneinander sind sie unmittelbares Leben der Gegenwart. Deshalb sind wirklich nicht theoretische Bedingungen oder doktrinäre Bedingungen notwendig für den, der zur Pflege des anthroposophischen Lebens etwas beitragen will, sondern es ist notwendig ein liebevolles Herz und ein offener Sinn für das ganze anthroposophische Leben. Wie man alt werden kann, indem man zugleich in der Seele mürrisch wird, indem man nicht nur äußerlich, sondern auch innerlich eine Glatze kriegt, indem man nicht nur äußerlich, sondern auch innerlich runzelig wird, so daß man gar keinen Sinn dafür hat, lebendig seine Jugend vor die Seele hinzustellen, um sie noch einmal zu durchleben und immer wieder und wiederum wie etwas unmittelbar Gegenwärtiges zu durchleben, so kann man auch 1919 in die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft hereinkommen und keinen Sinn haben für das Aufspriessende, Sprossende, Ursprüngliche der ersten Phase anthroposophischer Bewegung. Das muß man sich aneignen. Sonst fehlt einem für Anthroposophie das Herz, sonst fehlt einem für sie das Gemüt. Und man wird in der Pflege anthroposophischen Lebens, wenn man auch sonst noch so hochnasig hinsieht über alle Doktrinen und Theorien, darin wird man ein Doktrinär. Das ist erwas, was einem Lebensvollen, wie es die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft sein soll, im eminentesten Sinne schadet. Nun hat sich eben einfach in der dritten Phase der anthroposophischen Bewegung, von 1919 ab, ein merkwürdiger Konflikt ergeben. Ich will ihn heute nicht ethisch beurteilen; auch Gedankenlosigkeit ist ja ein Willensimpuls und im Grunde genommen ein ethischer Impuls, und wenn etwas aus Gedankenlosigkeit unterlassen worden ist, wenn aus Gedankenlosigkeit an die Stelle des festen Willens die Gschaftlhuberei vielfach getreten ist, so ist darin auch etwas Ethisch-Moralisches zu suchen. Aber von dem will ich heute weniger sprechen, möchte mehr sprechen von jenem Konflikt, in den dadurch die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft gekommen ist, der lange latent war, von dem aber heute ganz offen gesprochen werden muß.
Es war in den ersten Phasen der anthroposophischen Entwickelung so, daß wirklich der Anthroposoph zumeist sich in zwei Menschen spaltete. Er war, sagen wir, Bürochef oder irgend etwas anderes, wie man heute die Dinge nennt, nicht wahr, ging diesen Dingen nach, hatte seine Willensimpulse in denjenigen Bahnen laufen, welche nun einmal die äußeren Lebensbedingungen, die äußere Lebenspraxis heraufbrachten, die sich in den letzten Jahrhunderten entwickelt haben und die er eigentlich mit dem Innersten seiner Seele flieht. Aber er steckte da drinnen, steckte darin mit seinem Willen. Verkennen wir nicht: Der Wille ist mit all diesen Dingen im eminentesten Sinne verquickt. Mit dem, was man als Bürochef vom Morgen bis zum Abend verbringt, ist der Wille verquickt. Man braucht nicht Bürochef zu sein, man kann Schulmeister oder Professor sein, man denkt dann vielleicht; aber in diesem Denken, insofern dieses Denken im äußeren Leben darinnen steht, fließt das auch in den Willensimpuls. Also der Wille ist eigentlich doch da draußen geblieben, und gerade weil die Seele der eigenen Willensrichtung entfliehen wollte, ging sie mit Gefühl und Gedanke in die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft hinein. Nun war auf der einen Seite der Willensmensch und auf der andern Seite der Empfindungs- und Gedankenmensch. Darinnen fühlten sich sogar manche außerordentlich glücklich; denn, wie sehr lobten es sich manche kleine sektiererischen Zirkel, wenn sie sich zusammensetzen konnten, nachdem sie ja ihren Willensmenschen also in den allergewöhnlichsten Lebensströmungen betätigt hatten, wenn sie sich dann niedersetzen konnten und «Gedanken aussandten, gute Gedanken aussandten». Man bildete solche Zirkel, schickte seine Gedanken aus, gute Gedanken, man floh aus dem äußeren Leben in das Leben, das nur, ich sage nicht unreal ist, aber das nur in Empfindungen und Gedanken lebt. Man spaltete sich wirklich entzwei in einen, der ins Büro ging oder auf den Katheder stieg, und in den andern, der in den anthroposophischen Zweig ging und dort ein ganz anderes Leben führte. Als aber der Drang in einer Anzahl von Leuten entstand, aus dem anthroposophischen Fühlen und Denken heraus etwas Lebenskräftiges durch den Willen zu begründen, da mußte man den Willen mit hereinnehmen in die Totalität des Menschen. Da entstanden die Konflikte. Man kann sich verhältnismäßig leicht trainieren, gute Gedanken auszusenden, damit jemand, von dem man weiß, er macht eine Gebirgspartie, bei dieser Gebirgspartie sich nicht die Beine bricht. Aber diese guten Gedanken nun auch in den Willen hineinzusenden, der etwas unmittelbar Äußeres, Materielles macht, so daß dieses Materielle selbst von einem Geistigen durchdrungen wird durch die Kraft des Menschen, das ist das Schwierige. Und daran scheiterte eben vieles in der Entwickelung der dritten Phase der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft. Denn weder an Intelligenzen noch an Genies fehlte es - ich sage das ganz ehrlich und aufrichtig —, aber an dem Hineingießen von Genie und Intelligenz in die Straffheit und Strammheit des Willens, da fehlte es.
Betrachten Sie die Sache nur so recht, ich möchte sagen, vom Gesichtspunkte des Herzens; welch ein Unterschied! Denken Sie, man hat ein äußeres Leben, mit dem man herzlich unzufrieden sein kann. Herzlich unzufrieden kann man ja sein, nicht nur aus dem Grunde, weil einen andere Menschen quälen, weil die Dinge unvollkommen sind, sondern weil das Leben überhaupt nicht alles ganz leicht macht. Nicht wahr, das Leben ist nicht immer ein sanftes Ruhekissen. Leben heißt ja doch arbeiten. Und da hat man nun dieses Leben und auf der andern Seite die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft. Dann geht man in die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft: man trägt durch die Tür die Unzufriedenheit hinein. Da drinnen ist man als empfindender und denkender Mensch zufrieden, weil man wirklich dasjenige hat, was einem das mit Recht unzufrieden machende äußere Leben nicht gibt. Man hat es nun in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft. Man hat sogar das Gute, daß da drinnen, währenddem sich sonst die Gedanken hart im Raume an der Ohnmacht des Willens stoßen, sie ganz leicht fliegen, wenn man von den Zirkeln gute Gedanken ausschickt, damit eben die Menschen sich nicht die Beine brechen bei den Bergpartien. Da gehen sie ganz leicht hin, die Gedanken, in alle Welt; da kann man zufrieden sein. Das befriedigt einen dann über das äußere Leben, das einem mit Recht Unbefriedigtheit gibt.
Nun, und jetzt kommt die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft und begründet selbst Dinge, wo man mit seinem Willen darin ist. Man soll nun nicht bloß Bürochef draußen sein, und dann in die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft gehen und über das Bürocheftum draußen unzufrieden sein können - ich sage nicht, schimpfen können, obwohl das vielleicht auch vorkommen kann -, sondern man soll in der Gesellschaft nun beides darinnen haben, und nun soll man nicht mit der Nuance der Unbefriedigtheit, sondern mit der Nuance der Befriedigtheit darinnen leben. Das ist erforderlich, wenn die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft zur Tat übergehen wollte, und das hat sie gewollt seit 1919. Und dann entsteht etwas sehr Merkwürdiges, was vielleicht nur in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft bemerkt werden kann: dann entsteht dieses Merkwürdige, daß man nicht mehr weiß, was man mit jener Portion von Unzufriedenheit machen soll, die schon einmal der Mensch gern haben möchte. Denn man kann doch nicht der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft selber zuschreiben, daß sie einen unzufrieden macht! Aber dabei bleibt es nicht, man tut es nachher doch, schreibt ihr die Gründe für die Unzufriedenheit zu. Dasjenige aber, was da entstehen sollte, das ist eben jene innere Stufe der menschlichen Entwickelung, die es wirklich bringt von Gedanke und Empfindung zum Willen. Und wird der anthroposophische Weg in Richtigkeit gegangen, dann wird diese Stufe erreicht, dann gelangt man von Gedanke und Empfindung zum Willen. Überall sehen Sie in demjenigen, was in «Wie erlangt man Erkenntnisse der höheren Welten?» gesagt ist, daß keine Gedankenentwickelung dort angestrebt wird, in der nicht zu gleicher Zeit eine Willensentwickelung liegt.
Aber die moderne Menschheit leidet eigentlich an zwei Übeln, an jenen beiden Übeln, die in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft überwunden werden müssen. Das eine ist die Furcht vor dem Übersinnlichen, denn diese Furcht, diese Angst vor dem Übersinnlichen ist es ja, was uneingestanden aller Gegnerschaft gegenüber der anthroposophischen Bewegung zugrunde liegt. Es ist in Wirklichkeit eine Art Wasserscheu bei den Gegnern vorhanden. Sie wissen ja, daß sich die Wasserscheu auch noch in einer andern Form impulsmäßig äußert, und daher braucht man sich auch nicht zu wundern, daß jene Wasserscheu, die ich jetzt meine, sich auch manchmal wutartig zum Ausdruck bringt. Manchmal sind sie übrigens auch harmlos, die Dinge. Für manche ist Anthroposophie heute ein gutes Mittel, um Bücher zu schreiben, mit denen man auch etwas verdienen kann oder durch die man auch in einem Bücherverzeichnis darin steht, denn die Leute brauchen Themen, und nicht alle haben Themen, sie müssen das von der Außenwelt nehmen. Also manchmal sind die Sachen in ihren Motiven harmloser, als man denkt. Sie sind nur in ihren Wirkungen nicht harmlos genug.
Dasjenige, was die Menschheit heute auf der einen Seite hat, ist Furcht vor der übersinnlichen Erkenntnis; sie gestaltet das zu einer Maske um, zu Logik der Forschung. Diese Logik der Forschung mit ihren Erkenntnisgrenzen ist nämlich in Wirklichkeit nichts anderes als das direkte Erbe des alten Sündenfalls; nur daß die Alten ihren Sündenfall so aufgefaßt haben, daß man sich über die Sünde erheben muß. In der nachscholastischen Zeit ist die Erkenntnis durchaus noch angefressen von dem Glauben an den Sündenfall. Während früher auf dem moralischen Gebiete der Sündenfall gesehen worden ist so, daß der Mensch von Natur aus böse ist, daß er über seine Natur heraus muß, drückt es sich auf intellektualistischem Gebiete so aus, daß der Mensch auf dem gegebenen Bereiche das Übersinnliche nicht erreicht, daß er aus sich nicht heraus kann. Daß er diese Erkenntnisgrenze anerkennen will, ist nichts anderes als Erbschaft vom Sündenfall, nur daß man in den besseren Zeiten gestrebt hat, über die Sünde hinauszukommen, und der hochmütige moderne Mensch in der Sünde der Erkenntnis verbleiben will, geradezu diktiert: Ich mag nicht über die Sünde hinaus, ich liebe den Teufel, ich möchte ihn wenigstens lieben.
Das ist die eine Seite. Die andere Seite ist, trotz mancher Äußerungen des Willens, die aber eigentlich vielfach Maskierungen sind, die Willensschwäche und innere Willenslähmung des modernen Menschen. Und ich möchte sagen, diese beiden verhängnisvollen Eigenschaften der modernen Zivilisation und Kultur, die müssen gerade bei dem anthroposophischen Leben überwunden werden. Und soll das anthroposophische Leben praktisch werden, dann ist es eben notwendig, daß aus einer furchtlosen Erkenntnis und aus dem starken Willen heraus die Lebenspraxis geboren würde. Aber das setzt voraus, daß man eben lerne, auf anthroposophische Art mit der Welt zu leben. Vorher hat man gelernt, zunächst anthroposophisch zu leben, indem man die Welt flieht. Aber man muß auch auf anthroposophische Art mit der Welt leben lernen, hinaustragen in die Welt, in das alltägliche Leben, in die gewöhnliche Lebenspraxis den anthroposophischen Impuls. Man muß also tatsächlich den Menschen, den man gespalten hat in einen Anthroposophen und in einen Praktiker, wiederum vereinigen in eine einheitliche Menschenwesenheit. Und das erreicht man nie und nimmer, wenn irgendwo als anthroposophisches Leben Platz greift ein Leben, wie wenn man eigentlich abgeschlossen, von hohen Festungsmauern umgeben wäre, über die man nicht hinaussieht. Das muß in der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft überwunden werden. Man muß sich offene Augen aneignen für dasjenige, was in der Umgebung, in der übrigen Welt geschieht, dann wird man auch zu den rechten Willensimpulsen kommen. Aber gerade in der Zeit, in der Anthroposophie als solche ihre dritte Phase erlangt hat - ich habe Ihnen dieses auch das letzte Mal charakterisiert -, ist die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft vielfach zurückgeblieben hinter dem anthroposophischen Leben, dadurch zurückgeblieben, daß eben der Wille nicht mitkonnte. Weil es notwendig war, die früher da und dort führenden Persönlichkeiten zusammenzurufen für die verschiedenen Begründungen, wurde es vielfach so, daß derjenige, der ein ausgezeichneter Waldorfschul-Lehrer sein konnte, der den Horizont des Waldorfschul-Lehrers sich aneignete - ein schlechter Anthroposoph wurde. Gegen die einzelne Institution ist nicht das geringste einzuwenden, die Waldorfschule wird heute von der Welt beachtet, nicht bloß von der nächsten Umgebung; man darf wohl in aller Bescheidenheit sagen: mit Recht wird nichts eingewendet gegen die einzelne Institution, oder wenigstens gehört die Kritik auf ein ganz anderes Blatt. Man kann eben ein ausgezeichneter WaldorfschulLehrer sein und ein schlechter Anthroposoph, man kann ein ausgezeichneter Arbeiter in irgendeiner andern Unternehmung sein und ein schlechter Anthroposoph. Das ist es aber, um was es sich handelt: daß doch alle die einzelnen Unternehmungen herausgewachsen sind aus dem Mutterboden der Anthroposophie und man dessen eingedenk bleiben muß, daß man vor allen Dingen wirklich Anthroposoph bleiben muß, daß man dieses Zentrum nicht verleugnen darf, nicht verleugnen darf als Waldorfschul-Lehrer, nicht verleugnen darf als Mitarbeiter des Kommenden Tages, nicht verleugnen darf als Forscher, nicht verleugnen darf als Mediziner, daß man niemals auch nur im Entferntesten auf die Gesinnung kommen soll, zu sagen: Ich habe für die allgemeinen anthroposophischen Angelegenheiten keine Zeit. Sonst könnte zwar eine Zeitlang in jeder dieser Unternehmungen Leben sein, weil die Anthroposophie als solche wirklich Leben enthält und geben kann, aber es könnte dieses Leben nicht auf die Dauer unterhalten werden. Es würde versiegen auch für die einzelnen Unternehmungen.
Von einer unsachlichen Gegnerschaft, für die bezeichnend ist, daß sie eigentlich überall sucht, nicht an die Sache der Anthroposophie heranzukommen, sondern fragt: Wie ist das Anthroposophische gewonnen, wie ist es eigentlich mit dem Hellsehen, wie steht das, wie steht das, trinkt der Kaffee oder trinkt der Milch oder dergleichen - abgesehen von diesen Dingen, die mit der Sache nichts zu tun haben, aber vielfach, nicht wahr, das Gerede bilden, wird dann, wenn man den Sinn dafür hat, der Anthroposophie eben den Garaus zu machen, zur Verleumdung gegriffen, und dann stellen sich selbst solche Erscheinungen heraus, die jetzt in der Welt vielfach auftreten, die eigentlich noch vor ganz kurzer Zeit, als die Zivilisation nicht ihren Tiefpunkt erreicht hatte, unmöglich waren, die aber heute möglich geworden sind! Ich will das alles des näheren nicht bezeichnen, sondern möchte das den andern überlassen, denen ja auch das Schicksal der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft auf dem Herzen liegen muß. Aber ich wollte diese Dinge heute noch zu Ihnen sprechen, da ich noch einmal Gelegenheit ich könnte auch sagen Ungelegenheit — gehabt habe, hier zu sein. Vom Standpunkte der Dornacher Arbeit aus ist es eine Ungelegenheit, vom Standpunkte der hiesigen Arbeit ist es eine freudige Gelegenheit, die Dinge haben immer zwei Seiten, in Dornach ist meine Anwesenheit sehr nötig; aber da ich heute noch einmal mit Ihnen zu meiner tiefen Befriedigung sprechen konnte, möchte ich sagen: Das ist es, was jetzt notwendig ist, daß man anthroposophisch fühlen und empfinden lernt, daß man lernt, die Anthroposophie im Herzen pulsieren fühlen. Das kann nicht in mystischer Nebulosität geschehen, das kann nur in voller Klarheit geschehen. Denn die Anthroposophie verträgt das Licht. Andere Dinge, die sich auch ähnlich charakterisieren in der Welt, vertragen eben nicht das Licht; die vertragen nur die Dunkelheit des Sektiererischen. Anthroposophie verträgt das volle Licht, kann mit dem Herzen, mit der innigsten Herzenswärme in das volle Licht gehen, hat sich nicht zu scheuen vor diesem vollen Licht. Die wesenlosen persönlichen - und das geht ja weit, so daß man manchmal das Persönliche daran nicht erkennen kann -, die wesenlosen persönlichen Verleumdungen können ja gewiß als das, was sie sind, hingestellt werden. Aber gegenüber ehrlicher Gegnerschaft kann Anthroposophie überall kommen mit dem, was eben möglich ist auf dem Boden einer sachlichen Auseinandersetzung. Aber sachliche Auseinandersetzung fordert, daß man eingehe auf die Erkenntnismethoden der Anthroposophie. Und will einer sich sachlich auseinandersetzen, so kann er das gar nicht tun, bevor er sich nicht einläßt auf die Erkenntnismethoden. Dem Gemüt, dem Herzen nach, dem gesunden Menschenverstande nach kann jeder Anthroposophie aufnehmen. Diskutieren über Anthroposophie kann derjenige nicht, der sich von vornherein prinzipiell nicht auf ihre Erkenntnismethoden einlassen will, der nicht weiß, wie ihre Erkenntnismethoden sind. Experimentieren und Experimente kombinieren, dazu ist keine innere Entwickelung notwendig, dazu ist nur äußere Trainierung notwendig, das kann jeder. Aber es darf nicht derjenige, der nur dieses kann, diskutieren wollen über Anthroposophie, wenn er sich nicht auf deren Erkenntnismethoden einläßt. Das aber wiederum lehnen die Bequemlinge von heute ab, die eben den Menschen in seiner Vollkommenheit dogmatisch hinstellen und von einer Entwickelung überhaupt nichts wissen wollen. Aber weder die Wahrheit noch die Güte enthüllt sich dem Menschen, ohne daß er aus seiner innersten Freiheit etwas dazu tut. Weiß man, welche Impulse notwendig sind innerhalb der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft, um mit rechtem Herzen darin zu stehen, mit dem rechten Herzen ihre Angelegenheiten zu führen, weiß man die Motive der Gegner in der richtigen Weise einzuschätzen, so wird man, wenn man guten Willen hat, die Kraft aufbringen, die heute aufzubringen notwendig ist, wenn eben gesund durch dasjenige hindurchgegangen werden soll, was Ihnen, bevor ich gesprochen habe, hier angekündigt worden ist als auch im Willen der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft selbst gelegen.
Fourth Lecture
The development of conditions within the Anthroposophical Society makes it seem desirable to me to touch on at least some of the problems connected with these matters this evening. It is actually never my intention to discuss the conditions of development, the organization, and the like of the Anthroposophical Society in lectures, since I must regard it as my task to work for anthroposophy itself, and I am happy to leave the discussions about the living conditions and the factors of development of the Society to others who have taken on the leadership of the Society here and there. However, I now hope to be able to speak in more detail about the topic I might otherwise have dealt with here today at the upcoming delegates' meeting, and I therefore take the liberty, out of necessity connected with the development of the Society's current affairs, of saying a few words to you today to supplement what I was permitted to say here eight days ago about the three phases of anthroposophical development.
Today I would like to talk more about what these three phases have in common, the differences between which I tried to characterize last time, albeit only very sketchily. I would like to start from how something like the Anthroposophical Society actually comes into being. I believe that what I have to say may be of some help to many in preparing for the announced delegates' meeting, as a kind of aid to anthroposophical self-knowledge. On the one hand, it is certainly clear to anyone who can follow the development of civilization and culture in the present that the anthroposophical deepening of our cognitive life, our ethical-practical and inner-religious life, is a necessity of our time. But on the other hand, something like the Anthroposophical Society is a kind of advance guard for what must simply gain ever wider dissemination out of the necessity of the times. And how does this advance guard actually come about? Perhaps everyone who has approached the Anthroposophical Society in an honest way will see a piece of their own destiny in what I have to say. Basically, when we look back over the twenty-one or twenty-two years of the Anthroposophical Society's development, we certainly find that the overwhelming majority of people who come to the Anthroposophical Society are those who feel dissatisfied in some way with their spiritual, emotional, and also practical living conditions in the outer world. Especially in the early, perhaps even better days of the Anthroposophical Society, this is not meant in a negative sense, but purely as a fact – there has been something like an escape from contemporary life into another life within a human community, a human community where one can live out what one feels in one's own soul to be truly human. This alienation from the external, spiritual, emotional, and practical conditions of life must certainly be taken into account in the formation of the Anthroposophical Society. For those who became anthroposophists are, first and foremost, people who feel what millions and millions of people will certainly feel and experience quite clearly in the course of a relatively short future: It is the experience that traditional forms, which have developed from the past into the present not unjustifiably, but out of historical necessity, no longer provide what people today demand from their inner lives, demand for the sake of their human dignity, demand because only through this demand can they be fully human.
Anyone who looks at these things impartially, especially if they have become an honest anthroposophist, will find, upon some self-examination, will find that this urge to satisfy the needs of one's soul in a special human community, as opposed to other human communities of today, is something that springs from the deepest human nature, something that one can already feel is working its way up to the surface of the soul from the eternal sources of all humanity, especially in our time. And that is why those who have honestly approached anthroposophy feel this connection with an anthroposophical community as a real matter of the heart, as something without which, the more honest they are, they tell themselves they cannot actually exist. But we must also admit that from the clarity, from the lucidity — I mean lucidity in feeling, not in thinking — from which this connection to the anthroposophical community arises, we can already see how much in our present external world is unsatisfactory for the full human being. The honest urge of a human being would not be able to incline toward anthroposophy with such intensity if the alienation from today's external conditions, especially of a spiritual nature, were not so strong.
But let us look at something else. What I have discussed so far is something that could be called a reversal of human impulses of will. When a person is born into a certain era, when he is brought up in a certain era, his impulses of will initially flow into the common, habitual impulses of will of his environment. The person grows up, and without much stirring within them, they grow into the directions of will that are also the directions of will of their environment. Something must stir within them, in the depths of their heart, something that takes inner offense at the impulses of will that they have given themselves for a certain period of their life according to the external habits of their environment, so that they now turn inward the impulse of will that until then had only been externalized. But when he turns it inward, this reversal of will makes him aware of what, especially in our present age, springs up from the eternal sources of the human soul as a desire to fit into the human community in a different way than is inherent in his habitual will. And everything connected with the will is something ethical, something moral, and so, at least in terms of the impulse of will and feeling, what drives people into the Anthroposophical Society is initially a moral impulse, an ethical impulse. And when people touch their most sacred inner being with this ethical impulse, when they approach the eternal sources of their soul life through this ethical impulse, the ethical impulse that has driven them into an anthroposophical community also becomes, I would say, a religious impulse in its continuation. And so what otherwise is active in people in their observance of external moral precepts and legal rules and in their observance of habits of life, whereby they grow up more or less thoughtlessly in their familiar surroundings, becomes, in this growing up, ethical, moral, and religious, turned inward, and it becomes a striving for moral-ethical and religious internalization. But the human being with his full humanity cannot develop a merely willing and perhaps even feeling soul life and accept any knowledge whatsoever.
The insights that we already receive today, I don't want to say with our mother's milk, but at least from the age of six as an inner soul training, which then continues further and further, all these things that our mind, our power of cognition, takes in and which must form a counterpole to the ethical, moral, and religious – but a counterpoint that is in harmony and accord with these ethical, moral, and religious aspects – all these insights are not indifferent to the religious internalization of anthroposophical striving. It is precisely the way of life and practice from which the anthroposophist wants to escape morally, ethically, and religiously that is the way of life and practice that has developed predominantly within civilized humanity in recent centuries. And actually, even if anthroposophists make compromises, and indeed must make compromises, with what external life is, they still want to break out of what human civilization has brought about in recent centuries and which has led to the terrible catastrophe of the present. For many who come to the anthroposophical movement, this is certainly more or less instinctive, but it is definitely present.
And now let us be clear about this: what has developed as goals of the will, as religious impulses over the last few centuries, is precisely what has also brought forth the whole direction, the whole nuance of the life of knowledge in modern times. Only those who are caught up in prejudices are so entrenched in the life of knowledge today that they say: We have objective physics, objective mathematics, objective chemistry, we are striving for objective biology, and so on. That is a prejudice. In truth, the situation is that what, as I said, is already being trained into people from the age of six today is the result of those external formations of will and religious impulses that have developed over the last few centuries. But if someone who strives for anthroposophy wants to break free from these impulses of will, and indeed from what takes place in religious forms as the crowning glory of moral life, then they cannot help but also seek a kind of knowledge that corresponds not to the world they want to leave behind, but to the world they want to seek. This means that, since the anthroposophist has turned his will impulses inward, he must also strive for a kind of knowledge that corresponds to this inwardly turned will: that is, a kind of knowledge that leads away from the external science that has arisen in civilized areas in recent centuries with the externalization of life. And the anthroposophist will feel how thoughtless he would be to turn his will around if he did not at the same time turn his knowledge around. He would be thoughtless if he did not say to himself: I feel alien as a human being within the way of life and practice that has arisen, but I can feel related to what has arisen as knowledge. The knowledge that the world they are fleeing has acquired cannot be satisfactory knowledge for people who are turning their will impulses around. And this may lead some people to conclude quite instinctively that the way of life they want to escape has taken on its form and shape precisely because it only believes in what is outwardly visible and can be combined with the intellect from the visible. Therefore, the seeker turns to that which is supersensible and invisible as the basis of knowledge. Just as a science that looks to the materialistic is the counterpart of an externalized way of life and practice, so too is a science that directs its faith only I would say, on the other side of this way of life and practice, on the external, material, and intellectually comprehensible. And so, after the first act in the soul drama of the anthroposophist was a moral-religious one, the second act emerges, which was already present in embryonic form in the first: the urge for supersensible knowledge. It follows quite naturally that the acceptance of a message of supersensible knowledge becomes the content of an anthroposophical society. Everything that the will experiences in this way as its destiny, everything that the striving for knowledge must recognize as its quest, is integrated in the heart and soul of the anthroposophist as a whole, as the very core of his life and humanity, and all of this together forms the totality of his attitude. And with this attitude, he then stands within the Anthroposophical Society.
But now let us consider the situation in which the anthroposophically educated person finds himself. He cannot simply abandon his external lifestyle and practices. He initially takes refuge in the Anthroposophical Society, but the external necessities of life remain; they cannot be abandoned in one fell swoop. And so a conflict arises in the soul of the anthroposophist with regard to his outer life and with regard to that which, as a member of the Anthroposophical Society, becomes for him an ideal of life and an ideal of knowledge. Depending on whether one or the other is of a deeper or more superficial nature, this conflict can be more or less painful, even tragic. But this pain, this tragedy, also contains the most valuable seeds for what must be a constructive life in our declining civilization. Ultimately, everything that blossoms and bears fruit in life is nevertheless born of pain and suffering. And perhaps those who feel most deeply the mission of the Anthroposophical Society are those who must experience living into this mission as their suffering, as their pain, even if the truly powerful aspect of human nature can consist solely in the fact that human beings find the inner strength to rise above suffering and pain. in such a way that in the experience of suffering and pain, the point is reached where the painful and the suffering become the power of life, the conquering power of life itself.
And so, I would say, the path to the Anthroposophical Society consists first in a reversal of the impulse of the will, then in an experience of supersensible knowledge, but then in sharing in the destiny of the times, which becomes the destiny of one's own soul. And then, through this reversal of the will, through this experience of the supersensible nature of all truth, one feels oneself within the development of humanity. It is only through this sharing in the experience of the true meaning of the age that one feels oneself to be human in the full sense of the word. Basically, anthroposophy should be nothing other than that Sophia, that is, that content of consciousness, that inner experience in the human soul that makes a person fully human. The correct interpretation of the word anthroposophy is not “wisdom about man,” but “consciousness of one's humanity”; that is, the turning of the will, the experience of knowledge, and the sharing in the destiny of the times should aim to give the soul a direction of consciousness, a Sophia.
What I have just characterized led to the original formation of the Anthroposophical Society. It was not actually founded; it simply came into being. Such a thing, based on honest inner life, cannot be brought about by any kind of agitation, as some people imagine. The Anthroposophical Society can only come into being because there are people who have a predisposition for the characterized turning of the will, for such a life of knowledge and such a sharing in the experience of the destiny of the times, and because then something appears from somewhere that in a certain way meets what lives in the hearts of the people who are there. But such a coming together of people is actually only possible in our age, the age of consciousness soul development, and is not understood by all those who are not yet fully aware of the nature of consciousness soul development. For example, even a university lecturer could make a strange assertion, namely that three people once came together to form the Central Board of the Anthroposophical Society. And that university lecturer's brain — it is better to specialize in body parts, because full humanity is not the basis of these things — that university lecturer's brain found that one had to ask the question: Yes, who elected the three, where did they get their mandate? — Yes, how can something arise in a freer way than by three people standing up and saying: We want this and that; whoever wants to can join us, whoever doesn't, doesn't. — Surely everyone is free to do that. So there is nothing that takes human freedom more into account than the emergence of the Anthroposophical Society. It alone is appropriate to the age of consciousness in human development. But one can also be a university lecturer without having reached the age of consciousness; then, of course, one will not understand what tends toward freedom in the most eminent sense.
I know how unpleasant it has always been for some people when it has occasionally become necessary to discuss such things, because they simply exist. But these things nevertheless shed light on what is necessary in order for the conditions of life of the Anthroposophical Society to be fulfilled. However, because the anthroposophist must initially remain in the outer world, from which he can only escape, at first, with his soul, a special nuance of soul experience arises, ranging from inner suffering to tragedy, as I have already indicated. This soul experience was particularly strongly felt during the formation of the Anthroposophical Society. But those who joined the Anthroposophical Society later, and those who join today, go through again and again what others went through decades or perhaps years ago. And with this, which is indeed grounded in the social life of the Anthroposophical Society, the Anthroposophical Society must naturally reckon with it as one of its conditions of life. It is quite natural that, since anthroposophical development has gone through three phases, those who are new to the anthroposophical movement today are with their hearts in the first phase. And many difficulties lie precisely in the fact that the leading personalities of the Anthroposophical Society actually have a duty to harmonize what the three phases are side by side: the first, second, and third. They are successive, and at the same time they are side by side. And what is more, one after the other they are partly memories, things of the past; side by side they are the immediate life of the present. Therefore, it is not really theoretical or doctrinal conditions that are necessary for those who want to contribute to the cultivation of anthroposophical life, but rather a loving heart and an open mind for the whole of anthroposophical life. Just as one can grow old by becoming grumpy in one's soul, by going bald not only outwardly but also inwardly, by becoming wrinkled not only outwardly but also inwardly, so that one has no sense of bringing one's youth vividly before one's soul in order to relive it again and again and again as something immediately present, so you can also join the Anthroposophical Society in 1919 and have no sense of the sprouting, budding, original nature of the first phase of the anthroposophical movement. You have to acquire that. Otherwise, you lack the heart for anthroposophy, otherwise you lack the mind for it. And in cultivating anthroposophical life, even if one looks down on all doctrines and theories, one becomes a doctrinaire. This is something that damages a life-filled community such as the Anthroposophical Society should be in the most eminent sense. Now, in the third phase of the anthroposophical movement, starting in 1919, a strange conflict has arisen. I do not want to judge it ethically today; thoughtlessness is also an impulse of the will and, basically, an ethical impulse, and if something has been omitted out of thoughtlessness, if thoughtlessness has often replaced firm will with busybodying, then there is also something ethical and moral to be found in this. But I want to talk less about that today and more about the conflict that this has caused within the Anthroposophical Society, a conflict that was latent for a long time but must now be discussed openly.
In the early stages of anthroposophical development, it was really the case that most anthroposophists were split into two people. They were, let's say, office managers or something else, as we call things today, and they pursued these things, allowing their impulses of will to run along the paths that were brought about by the external conditions of life, the external practices of life that have developed over the last centuries and which they actually flee with the innermost part of their soul. But he was stuck there, stuck there with his will. Let us not misunderstand: the will is intertwined with all these things in the most eminent sense. The will is intertwined with what one spends one's time doing as an office manager from morning to night. One does not need to be an office manager; one can be a schoolmaster or a professor, one might think; But in this thinking, insofar as this thinking is part of external life, it also flows into the impulse of the will. So the will has actually remained out there, and precisely because the soul wanted to escape its own direction of will, it entered the Anthroposophical Society with feeling and thought. Now, on the one hand, there was the man of will, and on the other, the man of feeling and thought. Some even felt extremely happy within this; for how much some small sectarian circles praised themselves when they were able to get together, after they had exercised their will in the most ordinary currents of life, when they were then able to sit down and “send out thoughts, send out good thoughts.” Such circles were formed, thoughts were sent out, good thoughts, people fled from outer life into a life that is not unreal, but lives only in feelings and thoughts. People really split in two, into those who went to the office or climbed onto the lectern, and those who went to the anthroposophical branch and led a completely different life there. But when a number of people felt the urge to use their anthroposophical feelings and thoughts to establish something vital through their will, they had to bring the will into the totality of the human being. That's when the conflicts arose. It is relatively easy to train oneself to send out good thoughts so that someone who is known to be going on a mountain hike does not break their legs on that hike. But to send these good thoughts into the will, which does something immediately external and material, so that this material itself is permeated by something spiritual through the power of the human being, that is the difficult thing. And that is precisely where much of the development of the third phase of the Anthroposophical Society failed. For there was no lack of intelligence or genius — I say this quite honestly and sincerely — but there was a lack of pouring genius and intelligence into the strictness and rigor of the will.
Consider the matter properly, I would say, from the point of view of the heart; what a difference! Imagine you have an outer life with which you can be deeply dissatisfied. You can be deeply dissatisfied, not only because other people torment you, because things are imperfect, but because life does not make everything easy at all. Isn't that true? Life is not always a soft pillow. Life means work. And so you have this life and, on the other hand, the Anthroposophical Society. Then you go to the Anthroposophical Society: you carry your dissatisfaction with you through the door. Inside, as a feeling and thinking person, you are satisfied because you really have what your external life, which rightly makes you dissatisfied, does not give you. You now have it in the Anthroposophical Society. You even have the good thing that in there, while elsewhere your thoughts collide hard with the powerlessness of the will, they fly quite easily when you send out good thoughts from the circles, so that people don't break their legs on the mountain tours. There they go quite easily, the thoughts, all over the world; there one can be satisfied. That then satisfies one about the outer life, which rightly gives one dissatisfaction.
Well, and now the Anthroposophical Society comes along and establishes things itself, where one is involved with one's will. One should not just be an office manager outside, and then go to the Anthroposophical Society and be dissatisfied with being an office manager outside — I'm not saying one should be able to complain, although that may also happen — but one should now have both inside the Society, and now one should live there not with a nuance of dissatisfaction, but with a nuance of satisfaction. This is necessary if the Anthroposophical Society wants to take action, and it has wanted to do so since 1919. And then something very strange happens, something that can perhaps only be noticed in the Anthroposophical Society: something strange happens, in that one no longer knows what to do with that portion of dissatisfaction that people would like to have. For one cannot attribute to the Anthroposophical Society itself the fact that it makes one dissatisfied! But it does not stop there; one does so afterwards, attributing the reasons for dissatisfaction to it. But what should arise there is precisely that inner stage of human development that really brings one from thought and feeling to will. And if the anthroposophical path is followed correctly, then this stage is reached, then one progresses from thought and feeling to will. Everywhere in What Is the Meaning of Life? you will see that no development of thought is sought there that does not at the same time involve a development of will.
But modern humanity actually suffers from two evils, the two evils that must be overcome in the Anthroposophical Society. One is the fear of the supersensible, for it is this fear, this anxiety about the supersensible, that unacknowledged underlies all opposition to the anthroposophical movement. In reality, there is a kind of fear of water among the opponents. You know that this fear of water also manifests itself impulsively in another form, and therefore it is not surprising that the fear of water I am referring to sometimes expresses itself in anger. Sometimes, however, these things are harmless. For some, anthroposophy is a good means today of writing books with which one can earn money or be listed in a book catalog, because people need topics, and not everyone has topics; they have to take them from the outside world. So sometimes the motives behind these things are more harmless than one might think. It is only their effects that are not harmless enough.
What humanity has today, on the one hand, is a fear of supersensible knowledge; it transforms this into a mask, into the logic of research. This logic of research, with its limits of knowledge, is in reality nothing other than the direct legacy of the old Fall; only that the ancients understood their Fall in such a way that one must rise above sin. In the post-scholastic era, knowledge is still thoroughly infected by the belief in the Fall. Whereas in the past, the Fall was seen in the moral realm as meaning that man is evil by nature and must rise above his nature, in the intellectual realm it is expressed as meaning that man cannot attain the supernatural in the given realm, that he cannot rise above himself. The fact that he wants to acknowledge this limit of knowledge is nothing other than a legacy of the Fall, except that in better times people strove to transcend sin, while the arrogant modern human being wants to remain in the sin of knowledge, virtually dictating: I do not want to transcend sin, I love the devil, I want to love him at least.
That is one side of the coin. The other side is the weakness of will and inner paralysis of the modern human being, despite many expressions of will, which are actually often masks. And I would like to say that these two disastrous characteristics of modern civilization and culture must be overcome, especially in anthroposophical life. And if anthroposophical life is to become practical, then it is necessary that life practice be born out of fearless insight and strong will. But that presupposes that one learns to live with the world in an anthroposophical way. Previously, one learned to live anthroposophically by fleeing the world. But we must also learn to live with the world in an anthroposophical way, to carry the anthroposophical impulse out into the world, into everyday life, into ordinary life practice. So we must actually reunite the human being, whom we have divided into an anthroposophist and a practitioner, into a unified human being. And this can never be achieved if, somewhere, anthroposophical life takes the form of a life that is actually closed off, surrounded by high fortress walls over which one cannot see. This must be overcome in the Anthroposophical Society. One must acquire open eyes for what is happening in the environment, in the rest of the world, and then one will also arrive at the right impulses of will. But precisely at the time when anthroposophy as such has reached its third phase — I also characterized this for you last time — the Anthroposophical Society has in many ways lagged behind anthroposophical life, lagged behind because the will could not keep up. Because it was necessary to bring together the leading personalities of the past for various reasons, it often happened that those who could have been excellent Waldorf school teachers, who acquired the horizon of a Waldorf school teacher, became poor anthroposophists. There is not the slightest objection to the individual institution; Waldorf schools are now recognized by the world, not just by their immediate surroundings. It is fair to say in all modesty that there are no objections to the individual institution, or at least that any criticism belongs in a completely different context. One can be an excellent Waldorf school teacher and a poor anthroposophist, one can be an excellent worker in any other enterprise and a poor anthroposophist. But that is what it is all about: that all the individual enterprises have grown out of the mother soil of anthroposophy, and one must remember that, above all, one must remain truly anthroposophical, that one must not deny this center, must not deny it as a Waldorf school teacher, must not deny it as a collaborator of the Coming Day, one must not deny it as a researcher, one must not deny it as a physician, one must never even remotely entertain the thought of saying: I have no time for general anthroposophical matters. Otherwise, each of these undertakings might have life for a while, because anthroposophy as such truly contains and can give life, but this life could not be sustained in the long run. It would dry up, even for the individual undertakings.
From an unobjective opposition, which is characterized by the fact that it actually seeks everywhere not to approach the matter of anthroposophy, but asks: How is anthroposophy gained, what about clairvoyance, how does that work, does he drink coffee or milk or the like – apart from these things, which have nothing to do with the matter at hand, but in many cases, don't they, form the basis of gossip, then, if one has a mind to destroy anthroposophy, one resorts to slander, and then phenomena arise which are now commonplace in the world, which were actually impossible only a short time ago, when civilization had not yet reached its lowest point, but which have become possible today! I do not want to go into detail about all this, but would like to leave that to others who must also have the fate of the Anthroposophical Society at heart. But I wanted to speak to you about these things today, as I have had another opportunity — I could also say inconvenience — to be here. From the point of view of the work in Dornach, it is an inconvenience; from the point of view of the work here, it is a joyful opportunity. Things always have two sides. My presence is very much needed in Dornach, but since I have been able to speak to you again today, to my deep satisfaction, I would like to say: What is necessary now is to learn to feel and sense anthroposophically, to learn to feel anthroposophy pulsating in the heart. This cannot happen in mystical nebulosity, it can only happen in full clarity. For anthroposophy can bear the light. Other things that are similarly characterized in the world cannot bear the light; they can only bear the darkness of sectarianism. Anthroposophy can bear the full light, can go into the full light with the heart, with the most intimate warmth of the heart, and does not need to shy away from this full light. The insubstantial personal slanders – and this goes so far that sometimes one cannot recognize the personal in them – can certainly be exposed for what they are. But in the face of honest opposition, anthroposophy can come forward everywhere with what is possible on the basis of an objective debate. But objective debate requires that one engage with the methods of knowledge of anthroposophy. And if one wants to engage in objective debate, one cannot do so until one has engaged with the methods of knowledge. Anyone can accept anthroposophy with their mind, their heart, and their common sense. Those who refuse from the outset to engage with its methods of knowledge, who do not know what these methods are, cannot discuss anthroposophy. Experimenting and combining experiments does not require inner development, only outer training, which anyone can do. But those who can only do this should not want to discuss anthroposophy if they do not engage with its methods of knowledge. This, however, is rejected by today's complacent people, who dogmatically portray human beings as perfect and want to know nothing about development. But neither truth nor goodness reveal themselves to human beings without them doing something about it out of their innermost freedom. If one knows what impulses are necessary within the Anthroposophical Society in order to stand in it with a right heart, to conduct its affairs with a right heart, if one knows how to assess the motives of its opponents in the right way, then, if one has good will, one will muster the strength that is necessary today if one is to pass through in a healthy way what was announced to you before I spoke and also in the will of the Anthroposophical Society itself.