233a. The Festival of Easter: Lecture I
19 Apr 1924, Dornach Tr. Unknown Rudolf Steiner |
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Our attention is attracted to the connection of this festival with the mysteries of the universe by the fact that it is what is called a moveable feast and has to be regulated year by year according to those constellations of which we propose to speak more exactly during the next few days. When it is noted how all through the centuries religious customs and ceremonies having an intimate connection with humanity have been associated with the festival of Easter, we realise the very special value that has gradually come to be placed on it in the course of man's historical development. |
233a. The Festival of Easter: Lecture I
19 Apr 1924, Dornach Tr. Unknown Rudolf Steiner |
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Countless numbers of human beings have felt the Festival of Easter to be something that is related on one side to the profoundest feelings of the human soul and on the other to very profound cosmic mysteries. Our attention is attracted to the connection of this festival with the mysteries of the universe by the fact that it is what is called a moveable feast and has to be regulated year by year according to those constellations of which we propose to speak more exactly during the next few days. When it is noted how all through the centuries religious customs and ceremonies having an intimate connection with humanity have been associated with the festival of Easter, we realise the very special value that has gradually come to be placed on it in the course of man's historical development. From early Christian centuries—not indeed from the immediate foundation of Christianity, but from its early centuries—this has been a festival of the greatest importance, one associated with the fundamental idea and the fundamental impulse of Christianity, as revealed to Christian consciousness in the fact of the resurrection of Christ. The Festival of Easter is the festival of resurrection, but points to times even before Christianity. It points to festivals connected with the period of the Spring equinox, which have certainly had something to do with the fixing of Easter, a festival that was associated with the re-awakening of Nature and the reviving life of the earth. With this we have reached the point where we will at once speak of “Easter as a page from the History of the Mysteries,” in so far as the subject is one that can be dealt with in words. As a Christian festival Easter is a festival of resurrection. The corresponding heathen festival, which took place approximately at the same time, was a kind of resurrection-festival of Nature, a re-awakening of the objects of Nature, which had slumbered, if I may so express it, during the winter. Here I must explain that the Christian festival of Easter is absolutely not a festival that, according to its inner meaning and nature, is comparable with the heathen festival held at the time of the Spring equinox; but if we think of it as a Christian festival, it coincides absolutely with very ancient heathen festivals that had their source in the Mysteries and occurred in the Autumn. The strangest thing regarding the fixing of Easter, which quite obviously, according to its whole content, is connected with certain procedures in the Mysteries, is that it directs our attention to a radical and profound misunderstanding that has come to pass in the general acceptance of one of the most important facts concerning our human evolution. This is nothing less than that the Festival of Easter has been confused, in the course of the early Christian centuries, with an entirely different festival, and has on this account been changed from an Autumn to a Spring festival. This fact indicates something prodigious in human evolution. But let us consider for a moment the content of the Easter festival. What is most essential in it? The most essential thing in it is: that the Being who stands in the centre of Christian consciousness, Christ Jesus, passed through death; of this Good Friday reminds us. Christ Jesus then rested in the grave during the period of three days; this represents the union of Christ with earthly existence. The time between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is held by Christians as a solemn festival of mourning. Then Easter Sunday is the day on which the central figure for all Christendom rose from the grave, the day on which this fact is held in remembrance. The essential content of the Easter festival is: the death, burial, the repose in the tomb (Grabes-ruhe), and resurrection of Christ Jesus. Let us now consider some of the features of the corresponding ancient heathen festival. Only by doing this can we arrive at an inner comprehension of the connection between the Festival of Easter and the living content of the Mysteries (Mysterien-wesen). In many places, among many people we find ancient heathen festivals which in outward form and ceremonial resemble absolutely the main features of those of the Christian Easter. From among numerous ancient feasts let us take that of Adonis. This was met with among certain peoples, and over long periods of the past, in Asia-Minor. A statue provided its central point. This statue represented Adonis the spiritual prototype of all youthful growing forces, all the beauty of man. It is true that ancient peoples have in many respects confused the image with what it represented. In this way these old religions have frequently acquired a fetishlike character. Many people saw in the statue the actual god of beauty—the youthful forces of man, the evolving germinal powers revealing in splendid life all that was glorious in existence, all that man possessed or could possess of inner worth and inner greatness. With mournful singing and ceremonies expressive of the profoundest human grief and woe the divine image was on this day (if the sea happened to be near) sunk beneath the waves, where it remained for three days; otherwise an artificial tank was constructed so that it could be lowered into it. During these three days profound quiet and sorrow lay upon the whole community of those who followed this religion. When the three days were over the image was raised again from the water. The earlier songs of sorrow were turned into songs of joy, into hymns about the risen god, the god who had come back to life. This was an outward ceremony, one that deeply stirred the hearts of wide circles of people. It recalled, by means of an outward act, what happened to every one attaining to initiation in the Holy Mysteries. Every man attaining initiation in these ancient times was conducted into a special chamber. The walls were black; the whole room, in which was nothing but a coffin, was dark and gloomy. The aspirant for initiation was then laid in the coffin by those who had conducted him there with solemn dirges, and was treated as one about to die. He was made to realise that, now he was placed in the coffin, he had to pass through what a man experiences when going through the gates of death, and during the three days following. The arrangements were carried out in such a way that he who was in the act of being initiated reached full inner comprehension of what a man experiences in the first three days after death. On the third day there rose in a particular place before the eyes of him who lay in the coffin a budding branch representing springing life. The former songs of woe turned into hymns of joy. The neophyte, who had experienced all this, now rose from the grave with a changed consciousness. A new language had been imparted to him and a new writing: the language and the writing of the spirit. If what took place in the depths of the Mysteries to those about to experience initiation were to be compared with the religious ceremony performed outside, this would have to be done in a figurative way, though similar in form, to that which was experienced by carefully selected individuals in the Mysteries. And the ceremony—take that of the cult of Adonis, for instance—was explained to those participating in it in an appropriate way. It was a religious act that took place in the Autumn, and those who took part in it were instructed as follows: Behold it is Autumn; the earth now loses its green plants, all its leafy covering. Everything withers. Instead of the fresh, green, sprouting life which arose to deck the earth in Spring, all is now bleak and bare, or perhaps covered with snow. Nature is dying. But when all around you dies, you must experience that which in man resembles to some degree the death you see in surrounding Nature. Man also dies, Autumn comes to him also. When life draws to an end it is well that the human heart and soul of those who survive should be filled with deepest sorrow. And in order that the full seriousness of the passage through the gates of death should rise before your souls, that you not only experience death when it comes but that you are reminded of it again and again each year, for this reason you are shown every Autumn how that Divine Being who represents the beauty, youth, and greatness of man dies, how he goes the way of all natural things. But just at the moment when Nature is most desolate and dreary, when death is near, you have to remember something else. You have to remember that though man passes through the gates of death, though here in earthly existence he only experiences things of a nature similar to that which perishes in Autumn, that so long as he lives on earth he only experiences temporal things, when once he is withdrawn from earth his life will continue on into the wide spaces of universal ether. There he sees himself grow ever larger and larger—he becomes one with the whole world. During the three days his life expands to the confines of the universe. While here, earthly eyes are directed to the image of death, to that which is mortal and perishable; out there, after three days, the immortal soul awakens. About three days after death it rises again; it is born anew in the land of the spirit. All this was brought about in the depths of the Mysteries through an impressive inner transformation of the body of the neophyte who had presented himself for initiation. The notable impression, the tremendous forward push that human life received in this ancient form of initiation, was the awakening of the inner soul-forces, the waking of sight. This brought to him the knowledge that henceforth he lives not merely in the world of the senses but in the world of the spirit. The teaching that from this time onwards was given on suitable occasions to the pupils of the Mysteries I can describe somewhat as follows:—They were told: what takes place in the Mysteries is a picture of what takes place in the spiritual world, and what takes place in the cosmos is a model for that which takes place in the Mysteries. What everyone who was admitted to the Mysteries had to realise was: the mysteries veil in earthly acts performed by men, what is experienced by them in other states of existence, and in the wide astro-spiritual spaces of the cosmos. Those who in olden times were not admitted to the Mysteries, who on account of the degree of ripeness they had acquired in life were not fitted to receive direct vision of the spiritual world, had communicated to them in the ceremonies carried on in the Mysteries—that is in pictures—what was suited to them. So the purpose of the Mystery-Festival, which we have come to know as the one corresponding to the festival of Adonis, was for the purpose of arousing in the consciousness of men, or at least for placing before their eyes in pictures, the certainty that at the time of autumnal decay, when death overtakes everything in Nature, it also overwhelms Adonis, the representative of all youth and beauty, all the grandeur of the human soul. The god Adonis dies also. He passes into the water, into the earthly representative of the cosmic ether. But just as after three days he rises out of the water, or is taken from it, so the human soul is raised out of the water of the world; or in other words, out of the cosmic ether, some three days after passing through the gates of death. The secret of death is what these Ancient Mysteries sought to reveal, aided by the appropriate Autumn festival. It was clearly demonstrated and made obvious through the fact that the first half—the one side of the religious ceremony—accorded with dying Nature, but the other half with its opposite, with what is most essential to man's own existence. It was intended that man should look upon dying Nature so as to realise that, though to outward seeming he dies, according to inner reality he rises again in the spiritual world. The meaning of these old heathen festivals that were associated with the Mysteries was to reveal the truth concerning death. In the course of human evolution a most important thing now took place, which was, that what the pupil passed through on a certain plane in regard to the death and resurrection of the soul when preparing himself for initiation into the Mysteries was consummated by Christ Jesus down to the physical body (bis zum Leibe). For how did the Mystery of Golgotha appear to one who was an adept in the Mysteries? Such an adept gazed into the ancient Mysteries. He saw how anyone preparing for initiation was led according to the state of his soul through death to resurrection, which meant to the awakening of the higher consciousness of his soul. The soul dies so that it may rise again in a higher state of consciousness. What has to be firmly maintained here is that the body does not die, but that the soul dies so that it may be awakened to a higher consciousness. What the soul of every man experienced who passed through initiation was experienced by Christ Jesus as far as to the body; that simply means, it was experienced on a different plane, for Christ was no earthly man, but a Sun-being within the body of Jesus of Nazareth, and could experience in every part of his human nature what the ancient Initiate of the Mysteries experienced in his soul. Those who still existed as “Knowers” of the ancient Mysteries, who were conversant with the ceremony of initiation, were such men as have even to this day a deep understanding of what happened on Golgotha. What could such men say of it? They could say: Through thousands of years men have been brought to the secrets of the spiritual world through the death and resurrection of their souls. The soul was separated from the body during the ceremony of initiation. Through death it was led to everlasting life. What was experienced there by a few exceptional men has been experienced in the body by a Being who came down from the Sun at the baptism in Jordan and entered into the body of Jesus of Nazareth. That which for long thousands of years had been an ever-recurring procedure of the Mysteries had now become an historic fact. The most essential fact for men to know was this: that because the Being who entered into the body of Jesus of Nazareth was a Sun-being, that which could only take place as regards the souls, and in the soul-experiences of those presenting themselves for initiation, could now take place as far as bodily existence. In spite of the death of the body, in spite of the dissolving of the body of Jesus of Nazareth in the mortal earth, a resurrection of Christ could take place, because the Christ rose higher than the souls of those seeking initiation. Such men could not take their bodies into the deep regions of sub-material existence (tiefe Regionen des Untersinnlichen) as Christ Jesus did; and for this reason they could not rise so high at resurrection as the Christ did; to make the infinite difference of this apparent, the ancient ceremony of initiation was enacted as an historic fact for all the world to see on the place of consecration—on Golgotha. In the early Christian centuries only a few people were aware that a Sun-Being—a Cosmic Being—had lived in Jesus of Nazareth, and that the earth had thereby been fructified (befruchtet); that a Being had actually descended to earth from the sun—a Being such as until then it had been possible to see only in the sun from the earth, through methods employed in the centres of initiation. The most essential fact regarding Christianity as accepted by those who had a real knowledge of the ancient mysteries was expressed as follows: The Christ to whom we could rise through initiation, the Christ we could find when we rose to the Sun in the ancient Mysteries, has descended into a mortal body, the body of Jesus of Nazareth. He has come down to earth. At first it was more what might be described as a holy attitude of mind—a solemn feeling of reverence, experienced in mind and soul, that made some understanding of the Mystery of Golgotha possible at the time. What formed the living content of human consciousness at that time gradually became, through events we shall learn of later, a festival of remembrance recalling the historical event of Golgotha. As this memory developed, people lost the consciousness, more and more, of Christ as a Sun-Being. Adepts in the wisdom of the Mysteries could not be in any uncertainty as to the nature of Christ. They knew well that true Initiates, those who had been initiated and had therefore become free from their physical bodies and had experienced death in their souls, rose as far as the Sun-sphere, and that there they found the Christ, that from Him, the Christ in the Sun, their souls received the impulse to resurrection; they knew who the Christ was, because they had raised themselves up to Him. These ancient Initiates, who understood what took place during initiation, knew from what took place on Golgotha that the same Being who formerly had to be sought in the Sun had now come down to men on earth. How did they know this? Because the proceedings in the Mysteries, undergone by the neophyte that he might rise to Christ in the sun, could no longer be carried out in the same way as before, for the simple reason that human nature had in the course of time become different. The ancient ceremony of initiation had become impossible because of the way in which the being of man had evolved. The Christ could no longer be sought in the Sun according to the methods of ancient initiation. He therefore came down to earth, there to accomplish a deed through which men might now find Him. That which is contained in this Mystery (Geheimnis) belongs to the most sacred things that can be spoken of on earth. For how actually did the Mystery of Golgotha appear to men living in the centuries immediately following it? In ancient places of initiation men looked up towards existence on the Sun (Sonnendasein) and became aware, through initiation, of the Christ in the Sun. They looked out into space in order to draw near to Christ. If I represent diagrammatically how evolution progresses in the ensuing years, I must represent it in time; that means I must represent the earth—in one year, in another, in a third year, as progressing in time. Spatially, the earth is always there, but the passage of time must be represented thus. (A diagram was shown). The Mystery of Golgotha then took place. Let us suppose that a man who lived in the 8th century, instead of looking out from the Mysteries to the Sun in order to find Christ, looked to the turning-point of time at the beginning of the Christian era, looked to the time after the Mystery of Golgotha, he was then able to see the Christ in an earthly happening—in the Mystery of Golgotha. What had previously been perceived spatially had now, because of the Mystery of Golgotha, to be seen in time. (Sollte nun zeitliche Anschauung werden.) This was the fact of greatest importance. It is especially when our souls are affected by all the things which took place in the Mysteries, and which were an image of the death of man, and the resurrection that followed, and when added to these we consider the form of the religious procedure, more especially at the festival of Adonis (which was again an image of what took place in the Mysteries), that we realise how these three things, united and raised to their highest aspect, were concentrated within the historic deed on Golgotha. There now was seen on the outward plane of history what formerly had been enacted in deep inwardness in the sacred precincts of the Mysteries; what formerly had only been for Initiates was now there for all mankind to see. No longer was an image required that had to be sunk symbolically in the sea and raised from it again. Instead, men were to have the memory of what had actually happened on Golgotha. Instead of the outward symbol connected with an event that was experienced in space, inward, intangible, formless thoughts were to arise—thoughts that lived only in the soul, thoughts of the historical deed done on Golgotha. In the centuries that followed we now become aware of an extraordinary development in humanity. The penetration of mankind into what was spiritual declined more and more. The spiritual content of the Mystery of Golgotha could no longer find a place in the souls of men. Evolution tended towards the training of a materialistic intelligence. Men lost the inward emotional understanding of such things as, for instance, that where the transitory quality of external Nature is revealed—at the moment when the life of Nature is seen to be most desolate and as if dying—is exactly the moment when the vitality of the spirit becomes most apparent. Mankind also lost understanding of the external festivals of the year: understanding that the coming of Autumn, bringing as it does death to the outward things of Nature, is the time when it is most easy to realize that the death of all these things is connected with the resurrection of what is spiritual. Along with this, Autumn lost the possibility of being the season of resurrection; it lost the possibility of directing the mind, by way of the fleeting things of Nature, to the everlasting quality of the spirit. Man has need of the support of substance. He needs the support of that which does not die in Nature but springs again, the germinating power of seeds which fall to the ground in Autumn but rise again. Man accepts substance as a symbol of what is spiritual, because he is no longer capable of being stirred by substance to perceive spirit in its reality. Autumn has no longer power to demonstrate the immortality of spiritual things, as compared to the mortality of natural things, through the inner force of the human soul. Man has need of the support of Nature, of external resurrection. He likes to see how plants spring from the earth, how the strength of the sun increases, and the coming of light and warmth; he needs the resurrection of Nature in order to cultivate thoughts of resurrection. But with this the direct connection linking it with the festival of Adonis disappears, as also that which can link it with the Mystery of Golgotha. That inner experience that comes to every one at earthly death loses power when the soul knows: man passes through earthly death, and during the three days that follow undergoes certain experiences of a very solemn nature; but later the soul is filled with inner joy and happiness, because it knows that after these three days it rises from death to spiritual immortality. The power contained in the festival of Adonis was lost. Humanity was so organised at one time that this power could be developed with the greatest intensity. When looking on the death of the god, men saw the death of all that was beautiful in humanity, the death of all its splendour and youthful powers. With great sadness the god was laid beneath the waves on a day of mourning—Good Friday (Char-Freitag, Day of Mourning). People felt the deep solemnity of this, because it was intended to evoke in them realization of the frailty of all natural things. But it was intended that this feeling regarding the mortality of natural things should then be changed into a feeling concerning the super-sensible resurrection of the human soul after three days. As the god, or rather the likeness of the god, was raised from the water, the well-instructed believer saw in this image the representative of the human soul a few days after death. Behold! they said to him, what happens in spirit to those who die. What happens is brought before your soul in the likeness of the risen god—the god of beauty and of youthful vigour. This outlook, which was bound up so deeply with the destiny of humanity, was brought directly before the human spirit every Autumn. It would not have been thought possible at that time to associate this with external Nature. What could be experienced in spirit was represented symbolically in ceremonial acts. But the image of a former time had to be effaced, it had to emerge again as memory—as formless, inward, soul-felt memory of the Mystery of Golgotha, which represented the same thing; at first men had not the power to carry out this change, because the spirit had passed into the subconscious part of human souls (in die Untergründe der Seele des Menschen ging). So things remained until our day; men had need of the support of external nature. But external nature provides no image—no complete image of the destiny of man after death. Thoughts about death persisted. Thoughts about resurrection faded more and more. Even if people spoke of resurrection as part of their belief it was not a vital fact in the lives of the men of later times. But it must become so once more; it must become so, because the Anthroposophical outlook stirs men's minds to true thoughts concerning resurrection. If on one side it is said, at the appropriate season, thoughts on Michael are precious to the soul of the Anthroposophist as bringing thoughts of annunciation, if thoughts concerning Christmas give depth to his soul, those on Easter must be specially thoughts of joy. For Anthroposophy must add to the thought of death the thought of resurrection. She must herself become like a festival of resurrection within the souls of men, bringing an Easter spirit into their whole outlook on life. This Anthroposophy will do, when people have realised how the old thoughts of the Mysteries can live on in rightly conceived thoughts of Easter; when they have acquired a right understanding of the body, soul, and spirit of man, and of the destiny of these in the physical, psychic, and spiritual heavenly worlds. |
229. Four Seasons and the Archangels: The Michael Imagination
05 Oct 1923, Dornach Tr. Mary Laird-Brown, Charles Davy Rudolf Steiner |
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And when in high summer, from a particular constellation, meteors fall in great showers of cosmic iron, then this cosmic iron, which carries an enormously powerful healing force, is the weapon which the gods bring to bear against Ahriman, as dragon-like he tries to coil round the shining forms of men. |
229. Four Seasons and the Archangels: The Michael Imagination
05 Oct 1923, Dornach Tr. Mary Laird-Brown, Charles Davy Rudolf Steiner |
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To-day I would like first to remind you how events which take place behind the veil of appearance, outside the physical, sense-perceptible world, can be described in pictorial terms. One has to speak in this way of these events, but the pictures correspond throughout with reality. With regard to sense-perceptible events, we are living in a time of hard tests for humanity, and these tests will become harder still. Many old forms of civilisation, to which people still mistakenly cling, will sink into the abyss, and there will be an insistent demand that man must find his way to something new. In speaking of the course that the external life of humanity will take in the early future, we cannot—as I have often said—arouse any kind of optimistic hopes. But a valid judgment as to the significance of external events cannot be formed unless we consider also the determining, directing cosmic events which occur behind the veil of the senses. When a man looks out attentively with his physical eyes and his other senses at his surroundings, he perceives the physical environment of the earth, and the various kingdoms of nature within it. This is the milieu in which comes to pass all that manifests as wind and weather in the course of the year. When we direct our senses towards the external world, we have all this before us: these are the external facts. But behind the atmosphere, the sun-illumined atmosphere, there lies another world, perceptible by spiritual organs, as we may call them. Compared with the sense-world, this other world is a higher world, a world wherein a kind of light, a kind of spiritual light or astral light, spiritual existence and spiritual deeds shine out and run their course. And they are in truth no less significant for the whole development of the world and of man than the historical events in the external environment of the earth and on its surface. If anyone to-day is able to penetrate into these astral realms, wandering through them as one may wander among woods and mountains and find signposts at cross roads, he may find “signposts” there in the astral light, inscribed in spiritual script. But these signposts have a quite special characteristic: they are not comprehensible without further explanation, even for someone who can “read” in the astral light. In the spiritual world and in its communications, things are not made as convenient as possible: anything one encounters there presents itself as a riddle to be solved. Only through inner investigation, through experiencing inwardly the riddle and much else, can one discover what the inscription on a spiritual signpost signifies. And so at this time—indeed for some decades now, but particularly at this time of hard trials for mankind—one can read in the astral light, as one goes about spiritually in these realms, a remarkable saying. It sounds like a prosaic comparison, but in this case, because of its inner significance, the prosaic does not remain prosaic. Just as we find notices to help us find our way—and we find signposts even in poetical landscapes—so we encounter an important spiritual signpost in the astral light. Time and time again, exactly repeated, we find there to-day the following saying, inscribed in highly significant spiritual script:
Injunctions of this kind, pointing to facts significant for man, are inscribed, as I have said, in the astral light, presenting themselves first as a kind of riddle to be solved, so that men may bring their soul-forces into activity. Now, during our days here, we will contribute something to the solving of this saying—really a simple saying, but important for mankind to-day. Let us recall how in many of our studies here the course of the year has been brought before our souls. A man first observes it quite externally: when spring comes he sees nature sprouting and budding; he sees how the plants grow and come to flower, how life everywhere springs up out of the soil. All this is enhanced as summer draws on; in summer it rises to its highest level. And then, when autumn comes, it withers and fades away; and when winter comes it dies into the lap of the earth. This cycle of the year—which in earlier times, when a more instinctive consciousness prevailed, was celebrated with festivals—has another side, also mentioned here. During winter the earth is united with the elemental spirits. They withdraw into the interior of the earth and live there among the plant-roots that are preparing for new growth, and among the other nature-beings who spend the winter there. Then, when spring comes, the earth breathes out, as it were, its elemental being. The elemental spirits rise up as though from a tomb and ascend into the atmosphere. During winter they accepted the inner order of the earth, but now, as spring advances and especially when summer comes on, they receive more and more into their being and activity the order which is imposed upon them by the stars and the movements of the stars. When high summer has come, then out there in the periphery of the earth there is a surging of life among the elemental beings who had spent the winter in quiet and silence under the earth's mantle of snow. In the swirling and whirling of their dance they are governed by the reciprocal laws of planetary movement, by the pattern of the fixed stars, and so on. When autumn comes, they turn towards the earth. As they approach the earth, they become subject more and more to the laws of earth, so that in winter they may be breathed in again by the earth, once more to rest there in quietude. Anyone who can thus experience the cycle of the year feels that his whole human life is wonderfully enriched. To-day—and it has been so for some time past—a man normally experiences, and then but dimly, half-consciously, only the physical-etheric processes of the body which occur within his skin. He experiences his breathing, the circulation of his blood. Everything that takes its course outside, in wind and weather, during the year; all that lives in the sprouting of the seed-forces, the fruiting of the earth-forces—all this is no less significant and decisive for the whole life of man, even though he is not conscious of it, than the breathing and blood-circulation which go on inside his skin. When the sun rises over any region of the earth, we share in the effects of its warmth and light. But when a man accepts Anthroposophy in the right sense, not reading it like a sensational novel but so that what it imparts becomes the content of his mind, then he gradually educates his heart and soul to experience all that goes on outside in the course of the year. Just as in the course of a day we experience early freshness, readiness for work in the morning, then the onset of hunger and of evening weariness, and just as we can trace the inner life and activity of the forces and substances within our skin, so, by taking to heart anthroposophical ideas—entirely different from the usual descriptions of sense-perceptible events—we can prepare our souls to become receptive to the activities that go on outside in the course of the year. We can deepen more and more this sympathetic participation in the cycle of the year, and we can enrich it so that we do not live sourly—one might say—within our skin, letting the outer world pass us by. On the contrary, we can enrich our experience so that we feel ourselves living in the blossoming of every flower, in the breaking open of the buds, in that wonderful secret of the morning, the glistening of dew-drops in the rays of the sun. In these ways we can get beyond that dull, conventional way of reacting to the outer world merely by putting on our overcoat in winter and lighter clothes in summer and taking an umbrella when it rains. When we go out from ourselves and experience the interweaving activities, the flow and ebb, of nature—only then do we really understand the cycle of the year. Then, when spring passes over the earth and summer is drawing near, a man will be in the midst of it with his heart and soul; he will discern how the sprouting and budding life of nature unfolds, how the elemental spirits fly and whirl in a pattern laid down for them by planetary movements. And then, in the time of high summer, he will go out of himself to share in the life of the cosmos. Certainly this damps down his own inner life, but at the same time his summer experience leads him out—in a cosmic waking-sleep, one might say—to enter into the doings of the planets. To-day, generally speaking, people feel they can enter into the life of nature only in the season of growth—of germination and budding, flowering and fruiting. Even if they cannot fully experience all this, they have more sympathy and perception for it than they have for the autumn season of fading and dying away. But in truth we earn the right to enter into the season of spring growth only if we can enter also into the time when summer wanes and autumn draws on; the season of sinking down and dying that comes with winter. And if during high summer we rise inwardly, in a cosmic waking-sleep, with the elemental beings to the region where planetary activity in the outer world can be inwardly experienced, then we ought equally to sink ourselves down under the frost and snow-mantle of winter, so that we enter into the secrets of the womb of the earth during mid-winter; and we ought to participate in the fading and dying-off of nature when autumn begins. If, however, we are to participate in this waning of nature, just as we do in nature's growing time, we can do so only if in a certain sense we are able to experience the dying away of nature in our own inner being. For if a man becomes more sensitive to the secret workings of nature, and thus participates actively in nature's germinating and fruiting, it follows that he will livingly experience also the effects of autumn in the outer world. But it would be comfortless for man if he could experience this only in the form it takes in nature; if he were to come only to a nature-consciousness concerning the secrets of autumn and winter, as he readily does concerning the secrets of spring and summer. When the events of autumn and winter draw on, when Michaelmas comes, he certainly must enter sensitively into the processes of fading and dying; but he must not, as he does in summer, give himself over to a nature-consciousness. On the contrary, he must then devote himself to self-consciousness. In the time when external nature is dying, he must oppose nature-consciousness with the force of self-consciousness. And then the form of Michael stands before us again. If, under the impulse of Anthroposophy, a man enters thus into the enjoyment of nature, the consciousness of nature, but then also awakes in himself an autumnal self-consciousness, then the picture of Michael with the dragon will stand majestically before him, revealing in picture-form the overcoming of nature-consciousness by self-consciousness when autumn draws near. This will come about if man can experience not only an inward spring and summer, but also a dying, death-bringing autumn and winter. Then it will be possible for the picture of Michael with the dragon to appear again as a forcible Imagination, summoning man to inner activity. For a man who out of present-day spiritual knowledge wrestles his way through to an experience of this picture, it expresses something very powerful. For when, after St. John's tide, July, August and September draw on, he will come to realise how he has been living through a waking-sleep of inner planetary experience in company with the earth's elemental beings, and he will become aware of what this really signifies. It signifies an inner process of combustion, but we must not picture it as being like external combustion. All the processes which take a definite form in the outer world go on also within the human organism, but in a different guise. And so it is a fact that these inner processes reflect the changing course of the year. The inner process which occurs during high summer is a permeation of the organism by that which is represented crudely in the material world as sulphur. When a man lives with the summer sun and its effects, he experiences a sulphurising process in his physical-etheric being. The sulphur that he carries within him as a useful substance has a special importance for him in high summer, quite different from its importance at other seasons. It becomes a kind of combustion process. It is natural for man that the sulphur within him should thus rise at midsummer to a specially enhanced condition. Material substances in different beings have secrets not dreamt of by materialistic science. Everything physical-etheric in man is thus glowed through at midsummer with inward sulphur-fire, to use Jacob Boehm's expression. It is a gentle, intimate process, not perceptible by ordinary consciousness, but—as is generally true of other such processes—it has a tremendous, decisive significance for events in the cosmos. This sulphurising process in human bodies at midsummer, although it is so mild and gentle and imperceptible to man himself, has very great importance for the evolution of the cosmos. A great deal happens out there in the cosmos when in summer human beings shine inwardly with the sulphur-process. It is not only the physically visible glow-worms (Johannis Käferchen) which shine out around St. John's Day. Seen from other planets, the inner being of man then begins to shine, becoming visible as a being of light to the etheric eyes of other planetary beings. That is the sulphurising process. At the height of summer human beings begin to shine out into cosmic space as brightly for other planetary beings as glow-worms shine with their own light in the meadows at St. John's time. From the standpoint of the cosmos this is a majestically beautiful sight, for it is in glorious astral light that human beings shine out into the cosmos during high summer, but at the same time it gives occasion for the Ahrimanic power to draw near to man. For this power is very closely related to the sulphurising process in the human organism. We can see how, on the one hand, man shines out into the cosmos in the St. John's light, and on the other how the dragon-like serpent-form of Ahriman winds its way among the human beings shining in the astral light and tries to ensnare and embrace them, to draw them down into the realm of half-conscious sleep and dreams. Then, caught in this web of illusion, they would become world-dreamers, and in this condition they would be a prey to the Ahrimanic powers. All this has significance for the cosmos also. And when in high summer, from a particular constellation, meteors fall in great showers of cosmic iron, then this cosmic iron, which carries an enormously powerful healing force, is the weapon which the gods bring to bear against Ahriman, as dragon-like he tries to coil round the shining forms of men. The force which falls on the earth in the meteoric iron is indeed a cosmic force whereby the higher gods endeavour to gain a victory over the Ahrimanic powers, when autumn comes on. And this majestic display in cosmic space, when the August meteor showers stream down into the human shining in the astral light, has its counterpart—so gentle and apparently so small—in a change that occurs in the human blood. This human blood, which is in truth not such a material thing as present-day science imagines, but is permeated throughout by impulses from soul and spirit, is rayed through by the force which is carried as iron into the blood and wages war there on anxiety, fear and hate. The processes which are set going in every blood-corpuscle when the force of iron shoots into it are the same, on a minute human scale, as those which take place when meteors fall in a shining stream through the air. This permeation of human blood by the anxiety-dispelling force of iron is a meteoric activity. The effect of the raying in of the iron is to drive fear and anxiety out of the blood. And so, as the gods with their meteors wage war on the spirit who would like to radiate fear over all the earth through his coiling serpent-form, and while they cause iron to stream radiantly into this fear-tainted atmosphere, which reaches its peak when autumn approaches or when summer wanes—so the same process occurs inwardly in man, when his blood is permeated with iron. We can understand these things only if we understand their inner spiritual significance on the one hand, and if on the other we recognise how the sulphur-process and the iron-process in man are connected with corresponding events in the cosmos. A man who looks out into space and sees a shooting-star should say to himself, with reverence for the gods: “That occurrence in the great expanse of space has its minute counterpart continuously in myself. There are the shooting-stars, while in every one of my blood-corpuscles iron is taking form: my life is full of shooting-stars, miniature shooting-stars.” And this inner fall of shooting-stars, pointing to the life of the blood, is especially important when autumn approaches, when the sulphur-process is at its peak. For when men are shining like glow-worms in the way I have described, then the counter-force is present also, for millions of tiny meteors are scintillating inwardly in their blood. This is the connection between the inner man and the universe. And then we can see how, especially when autumn is approaching, there is a great raying-out of sulphur from the nerve-system towards the brain. The whole man can then be seen as a sulphur-illuminated phantom, so to speak. But raying into this bluish-yellow sulphur atmosphere come the meteor swarms from the blood. That is the other phantom. While the sulphur-phantom rises in clouds from the lower part of man towards his head, the iron-forming process rays out from his head and pours itself like a stream of meteors into the life of the blood. Such is man, when Michaelmas draws near. And he must learn to make conscious use of the meteoric-force in his blood. He must learn to keep the Michael Festival by making it a festival for the conquest of anxiety and fear; a festival of inner strength and initiative; a festival for the commemoration of selfless self-consciousness. Just as at Christmas we celebrate the birth of the Redeemer, and at Easter the death and resurrection of the Redeemer, and as at St. John's Tide we celebrate the outpouring of human souls into cosmic space, so at Michaelmas—if the Michael Festival is to be rightly understood—we must celebrate that which lives spiritually in the sulphurising and meteorising process in man, and should stand before human consciousness in its whole soul-spiritual significance especially at Michaelmas. Then a man can say to himself: “You will become lord of this process, which otherwise takes its natural course outside your consciousness, if—just as you bow thankfully before the birth of the Redeemer at Christmas and experience Easter with deep inner response—you learn to experience how at this autumn festival of Michael there should grow in you everything that goes against love of ease, against anxiety, and makes for the unfolding of inner initiative and free, strong, courageous will.” The Festival of strong will—that is how we should conceive of the Michael Festival. If that is done, if nature-knowledge is true, spiritual human self-consciousness, then the Michael Festival will shine out in its true colours. But before mankind can think of celebrating the Michael Festival, there will have to be a renewal in human souls. It is the renewal of the whole soul-disposition of men that should be celebrated at the Michael Festival—not as an outward or conventional ceremony, but as a festival which renews the whole inner man. Then, out of all I have described, the majestic image of Michael and the Dragon will arise once more. But this picture of Michael and the Dragon paints itself out of the cosmos. The Dragon paints himself for us, forming his body out of bluish-yellow sulphur streams. We see the Dragon shaping himself in shimmering clouds of radiance out of the sulphur-vapours; and over the Dragon rises the figure of Michael, Michael with his sword. But we shall picture this rightly only if we see the space where Michael displays his power and his lordship over the dragon as filled not with indifferent clouds but with showers of meteoric iron. These showers take form from the power that streams out from Michael's heart; they are welded together into the sword of Michael, who overcomes the Dragon with his sword of meteoric iron. If we understand what is going on in the universe and in man, then the cosmos itself will paint from out of its own forces. Then one does not lay on this or that colour according to human ideas, but one paints, in harmony with divine powers, the world which expresses their being, the whole being of Michael and the Dragon, as it can hover before one. A renewal of the old pictures comes about if one can paint out of direct contemplation of the cosmos. Then the pictures will show what is really there, and not what fanciful individuals may somehow portray in pictures of Michael and the Dragon. Then men will come to understand these things, and to reflect on them with understanding, and they will bring mind and feeling and will to meet the autumn in the course of the year. Then at the beginning of autumn, at the Michael Festival, the picture of Michael with the Dragon will stand there to act as a powerful summons, a powerful spur to action, which must work on men in the midst of the events of our times. And then we shall understand how this impulse points symbolically to something in which the whole destiny—perhaps indeed the tragedy—of our epoch is being played out. During the last three or four centuries we have developed a magnificent natural science and a far-reaching technology, based on the most widely-distributed material to be found on earth. We have learnt to make out of iron nearly all the most essential and important things produced by mankind in a materialistic age. In our locomotives, our factories, on all sides we see how we have built up this whole material civilisation on iron, or on steel, which is only iron transformed. And all the uses to which iron is put are a symbolic indication of how we have built our whole life and outlook out of matter and want to go on doing so. But that is a downward-leading path. Man can rescue himself from its impending dangers only if he starts to spiritualise life in this very domain, if he penetrates through his environment to the spiritual; if he turns from the iron which is used for making engines and looks up again to the meteoric iron which showers down from the cosmos to the earth and is the outer material from which the power of Michael is forged. Men must come to see the great significance of the following words: “Here on earth, in this epoch of materialism, you have made use of iron, in accordance with the insight gained from your observation of matter. Now, just as you must transform your vision of matter through the development of natural science into Spiritual Science, so must you rise from your former idea of iron to a perception of meteoric iron, the iron of Michael's sword. Then healing will come from what you can make of it.” This is the content of the aphorism:
That is, the lofty power of Michael, with the sword he has welded together in cosmic space out of meteoric iron. Healing will come when our material civilisation proves capable of spiritualising the power of iron into the power of Michael-iron, which gives man self-consciousness in place of mere nature-consciousness. You have seen that precisely the most important demand of our time, the Michael-demand, is implicit in this aphorism, this script that reveals itself in the astral light. |
233a. Easter as a Chapter in the Mystery Wisdom of Man: Lecture I
19 Apr 1924, Dornach Tr. Samuel P. Lockwood Rudolf Steiner |
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Our attention is drawn to this connection with world riddles by the fact that Easter is a so-called moveable feast, fixed each year by computing the position of a constellation of which we will have more to say in the following lectures. Yet if we trace the festival customs and cult rites that have become associated with the Easter Festival through the centuries—rituals having a deep meaning for a large part of mankind—we cannot fail to observe the profound significance with which humanity has endowed this Easter Festival in the course of its historical development. |
233a. Easter as a Chapter in the Mystery Wisdom of Man: Lecture I
19 Apr 1924, Dornach Tr. Samuel P. Lockwood Rudolf Steiner |
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Easter is felt by many people to be associated on the one hand with the deepest feelings and sensibilities of the human soul, but on the other, with cosmic mysteries and enigmas as well. Our attention is drawn to this connection with world riddles by the fact that Easter is a so-called moveable feast, fixed each year by computing the position of a constellation of which we will have more to say in the following lectures. Yet if we trace the festival customs and cult rites that have become associated with the Easter Festival through the centuries—rituals having a deep meaning for a large part of mankind—we cannot fail to observe the profound significance with which humanity has endowed this Easter Festival in the course of its historical development. Easter became an important Christian festival—not coincident with the founding of Christianity, but during the first centuries; a Christian festival linked with the fundamental idea, the basic impulse, of Christianity: the impulse to be a Christian, provided by the Resurrection of Christ. Easter is the Festival of the Resurrection; yet it points back to periods antedating Christianity, to festivals connected with the spring equinox that plays a part in determining the date of Easter, to festivals bearing on the re-awakening of Nature, on the life burgeoning from the earth. And this leads us directly to the heart of our subject. As a Christian festival, Easter commemorates a resurrection. The corresponding pagan festival that occurred at about the same season was, in a sense, the celebration of the resurrection of Nature, of the re-awakening of what, as Nature, had been asleep throughout the winter time. But here we must emphasize the fact that with regard to its inner meaning and essence the Christian Easter in no sense corresponds to the pagan equinox festivals. On the contrary: comparing it with those of ancient pagan times, Easter, as a Christian festival, would correspond to old festivals that grew out of the Mysteries; and these were celebrated in the autumn. And the most interesting feature connected with determining the date of Easter, which is quite obviously related to certain old Mystery customs, is this: we are reminded precisely by this Easter Festival of the radical, far-reaching misapprehensions that have crept into the philosophic conceptions of the most vital problems during the course of human evolution. Nothing less occurred, in the early Christian centuries, than the confusion of the Easter Festival with quite a different one, with the result that it was changed from an autumn festival to a spring festival. This points to something of enormous importance in human evolution. Let us examine the substance of the Easter Festival—what is its essence? It is this: the central figure in Christian consciousness, Christ Jesus, experiences death, as commemorated by Good Friday. He remains in the grave for the period of three days, this representing His coalescence with earthly existence. This period between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is celebrated in Christendom as a festival of mourning. Finally, Easter Sunday is the day on which the central being of Christianity arises from the grave. It is the memorial day of this event. That is the essential substance of Easter: the death, the interval in the grave, and the Resurrection of Christ Jesus. Now let us turn to the corresponding old pagan festival in one of its many forms; for only by so doing can we grasp the connection between the Easter Festival and the Mysteries. Among many people of diverse localities we find ancient pagan festivals whose outer form—the nature of the rites—strongly resembles the form of what is comprised in the Christian Easter. From among the manifold ancient festivals let us choose that of Adonis for examination. This was celebrated by certain peoples of the Near East for a long period of time during pre-Christian Antiquity. An effigy constituted the center of interest. It portrayed Adonis, the spiritual representative of all that appears in the human being as vigorous youth and beauty. Now, the ancients undoubtedly confused, in some respects, the substance of an effigy with what it represented, hence the old religions frequently bore the character of idolatry. Many took the effigy of Adonis for the actually present god of beauty, of man's youthful strength, of the germinating force becoming outwardly manifest and revealing in living splendor all the inner worth, the inner dignity, the inner grandeur of which man is or might be possessed. To the accompaniment of songs and of rites representing the deepest human grief and sorrow, this effigy of the god was immersed in the sea where it remained for three days. When the locality was not near the sea, a lake served the purpose; and lacking this as well, an artificial pond was dug in the vicinity of the sanctuary. During the three days of immersion a deep and serious silence enveloped the whole community that confessed this cult, that called it its own. At the end of the three days the effigy was brought out of the water, and the previous laments were changed into paeans of joy, into hymns to the resurrected god, the god come to life again. That was an external ceremony, one that stirred the souls of a great multitude of people: through an outer act, an outer rite, it suggested what was enacted in the sanctuaries of the Mysteries in the case of every man aspiring to initiation. In these olden times every such candidate was conducted into a special chamber. The walls were black and the whole room, which contained nothing but a coffin or, at least, a coffin-like case, was dark and somber. Beside this coffin laments and songs of death were sung: the neophite was treated as one about to die. It was made clear to him that by being laid in the coffin he was to go through what a man experiences in passing through the portal of death and in the three days following this event. The procedure was such that he became fully aware of this. On the third day there appeared, at a certain point visible for him who lay in the coffin, a branch, denoting sprouting life. In place of the laments, hymns of rejoicing were sung. The initiate arose from his grave with transformed consciousness. A new language had been imparted to him, a new script: the language and script of the spirits. Now he might see, and he was able to see the world from the viewpoint of the spirit. Comparing this initiation that took place in the sanctuaries of the Mysteries with the rites performed publicly, we see that while the substance of the rites was symbolical, its whole form nevertheless resembled the procedure followed in the Mysteries. And in due time the cult—we may take that of Adonis as typical—was explained to those who had participated. It was celebrated in the autumn, and those who took part were instructed approximately as follows: Behold, it is autumn. The Earth sheds its glory of flowers and leaves. All things wither. In place of the greening, burgeoning life that in the spring time began to cover the earth, snow will envelop it, or drought will bring desolation. But while everything around you dies, you shall experience that which in man partly resembles the dying in Nature. Man, too, dies: he has his autumn. When he reaches the end of his life it is fitting that the souls of his dear ones be filled with deep sorrow. But it is not enough that you should meet death only when it comes to you: its whole import must be grasped in its profound significance, and you must be able to recall it to your memory again and again. Therefore you are shown every year the death of that divine being who stands for beauty and youth and the grandeur of man: you are shown this divine being going the way of all Nature. But when Nature becomes barren and passes into death, that is the time you must remember something else. You must remember that man passes through the portal of death; that in this Earth existence he has known only what is transitory, like all that passes in the autumn, but that now he is drawn away from the Earth and finds his way into the vast cosmic ether. During three days he sees himself expand till his being contains the whole world. And then, while here the eye of the body is directed to the image of death, to the ephemeral, to what dies, yonder in the spirit there awakens after three days the immortal human soul. It arises in order to be born for the spirit land three days after death. An intense inner transformation was brought about in the body of the candidate in the recesses of the Mysteries; and the profound impression, the terrific shock inflicted on the human life by this old method of initiation awakened inner soul forces, gave rise to vision.1 That impression, that shock, brought the initiate to understand that henceforth he lived not merely in the sense world but in the spiritual world as well. Other information imparted to the neophytes of the old Mysteries may be summed up thus: the Mystery ritual is an image of events in the spiritual world; what occurs in the cosmos is a likeness of what takes place in the Mysteries. No doubt was left in the mind of anyone admitted to the Mysteries that the procedure followed in these and enacted in man constituted images of what he experiences in forms of existence other than the Earth in the astral-spiritual cosmos. Those who, owing to insufficient inner maturity, could not be deemed ready to have the spiritual world opened up to them directly were taught the corresponding truths in the cult; that is, in a semblance of the Mystery proceedings. Thus the purpose of the Mystery festival corresponding to Easter—the one we have illustrated by the Adonis Festival—was as follows: during the autumnal withering and desolation in Nature, the drastic autumnal representation of the transience of earthly things—autumn's picture of dying and death—the certainty was to be conveyed to the neophyte—or at least the idea—that death, which envelops all Nature in the fall, overtakes man as well; and it comes even to the representative of beauty, youth and the glory of the human soul, to the god Adonis. He also dies. He dissolves in the earthly counterpart of the cosmic ether, that is, in water. But just as he arises out of the water, as he can be lifted out of it, so the soul of man is brought back, after about three days, from the world-waters—that is, from the cosmic ether—after having passed through the portal of death here on Earth. The mystery of death itself, that is what the autumn festivals were intended to present in these old Mysteries; and it was to be made readily intelligible by having the ritual coincide, on the one hand and in its first half, with dying, with the death of Nature; and on the other, with the opposite of this: with what represented the essence of man's being. It was intended that the initiate should contemplate the dying of Nature in order to become aware of how he, too, apparently dies, but how his inner being rises again, to take part in the spiritual world. To reveal the truth concerning death, that was the purpose of this old pagan festival deriving from the Mysteries. Now, during the course of human evolution a most significant event took place: in the case of Christ Jesus, the transformation experienced at a certain level by the candidate for initiation in the Mysteries—the death and resurrection of the soul—embraced the physical body as well. In what light does one familiar with the Mysteries see the Mystery of Golgotha? He envisions the ancient Mysteries; he observes how the soul of the candidate was guided through death to resurrection, meaning the awakening of a higher form of consciousness in the soul. The soul died in order to awake on a higher plane of consciousness. What must here be kept in mind is that the body did not die, and that the soul died in order to be reawakened to an enlightened consciousness. What every aspirant for initiation experienced in his soul only, Christ Jesus passed through in His bodily principle; in other words, on a different level. Because Christ was not an Earth-man but a Sun-being in the body of Jesus of Nazareth, it was possible for all the human principles of this Being to undergo on Golgotha what the former initiate experienced only in his soul. Those with intimate knowledge of the old Mystery initiation, whether living at that time or in our own day, have best understood what took place on Golgotha; for what they have known is that for thousands of years the secrets of the spiritual world have been revealed to men through the death and resurrection of their soul. During the process of initiation, body and soul had been kept apart, and the soul was led through death to eternal life. What was experienced in this manner by a number of the elect penetrated even into the physical body of a Being Who descended from the Sun at the time of the Baptism in the Jordan, and took possession of the body of Jesus of Nazareth. Initiation, enacted through many centuries, had become a historical fact. The important part of that knowledge was this: because it was a Sun-being that took possession of the body of Jesus of Nazareth, that which in the old neophyte had to do only with the soul and its experiences could now penetrate to the bodily life. In spite of the death of the body, in spite of the dissolution of His body in the mortal Earth, the resurrection of the Christ could be brought about because this Christ ascends higher than was possible for the soul of a neophyte. The neophyte could not sink the body into such profoundly sub-sensible regions as did Christ Jesus. For this reason the former could not rise to such heights in his resurrection as could Christ. But up to this point of difference, which is one of cosmic magnitude, the ancient enactment of initiation appeared as a historical fact on the hallowed hill of Golgotha. In the first centuries of Christianity very few men knew that a Sun-being, a cosmic being, had lived in Jesus of Nazareth, and that the Earth had been fructified by the actual coming of a being that previously could be seen from the Earth only in the Sun—by means of initiation methods. And for those who accepted Christianity with genuine knowledge of the old Mysteries, its very essence consisted in their conviction that Christ, to Whom they had raised themselves through initiation—the Christ Who could be reached through the old Mysteries by ascending to the Sun—that He had descended into a mortal body, the body of Jesus of Nazareth. He had come down to Earth. At the time of the Mystery of Golgotha, a mood of rejoicing, of holy elation, filled the souls of those who understood something of it. What then was a living substance of consciousness gradually became a festival in memory of the historical event on Golgotha—through developments to be described later. But while this memory was gradually taking shape, the awareness of the identity of Christ as a Sun-being disappeared more and more. Those familiar with the old Mysteries could not be in doubt: they knew that the genuine initiates, by being made independent of the physical body, experienced death in their soul, ascended to the Sun sphere and there found the Christ; that from Him, the Christ in the Sun, they received the impulse for the resurrection of the soul. They knew who Christ was because they had raised themselves up to Him. From what took place on Golgotha these initiates knew that the Being who had formerly to be sought in the Sun had descended to men on Earth. Why? Because the old process of initiation, enacted to enable the neophyte to reach Christ in the Sun, could no longer be enacted: the nature of man simply had changed in the course of time. The ancient ritual of initiation had become impossible by reason of the manner in which the human being had evolved. Christ could no longer have been found in the Sun by the old methods, so He descended in order to enact on the Earth a deed to which men could look. What is comprised in this secret is as supremely sacred as anything that can be revealed upon Earth. How did the matter appear to those living in the centuries immediately following the Mystery of Golgotha? A diagram would have to be drawn somewhat like this: In the old abodes of initiation the neophyte gazed up to the Sun existence, and through initiation he became aware of Christ. To find the Christ he looked out into space. In order to show the subsequent development I must represent time—that is, the Earth proceeding in time. Spatially the Earth is, of course, always there, but we will represent the course of time in this way. The Mystery of Golgotha has taken place. Now, a man, say of the 8th Century, instead of seeking Christ in the Sun from the Mystery temple, looks upon the turning point of time at the beginning of the Christian era, looks in time toward the Mystery of Golgotha (arrow in diagram), and can find Christ in an Earth deed, in an Earth event, within the Mystery of Golgotha. What had been spatial perception was henceforth, through the Mystery of Golgotha, to be temporal perception: that was the significant feature of what had occurred. Eut if we reflect upon the Mystery ritual, remembering that it was a picture of man's death and resurrection; and if we consider in addition the form taken by the cult—the Festival of Adonis, for example—which in turn was a picture of the Mystery procedure, this threefold phenomenon appears to us raised to the ultimate degree, unified and concentrated in the historical deed on Golgotha. What was enacted in a profoundly inner way in the sanctuary now appears openly in external history. All men now have access to what was previously available only for the initiates. There was no further need of an image immersed in the sea and symbolically resurrected. In its place was to come the thought, the memory, of what actually took place on Golgotha. The outer symbol, referring to a process experienced in space, was to be supplanted by the inner thought, unaided by any sense image—the memory, experienced only in the soul, of the historical deed on Golgotha. Then, in the following centuries, the evolution of humanity took a peculiar turn: men are less and less able to penetrate into spirituality; the spiritual substance of the Mystery of Golgotha can gain no foothold in the souls of men; evolution tends toward the development of a materialistic mentality. Lost is the heart's understanding of facts like the following: that precisely where Nature presents herself as ephemeral, as dying desolation, there the living spirit can best be envisioned. And lost as well is the feeling for the festival as such, the feeling that autumn is the time when the resurrection of all spirit contrasts most markedly with the death of Earth Nature. And thus autumn can no longer be the time for the festival of resurrection; no longer can it emphasize the eternal permanence of the spirit by the impermanence of Nature. Man begins to depend upon matter, upon those elements of Nature that do not die—the force of the seed that is sunk in the ground in the fall and that germinates and sprouts in the spring resurrection. A material symbol for the spiritual is adopted because men are no longer able to respond through the material to the spiritual as such. Autumn no longer has the power to reveal, through the inner force of the human soul, the permanence of the spiritual by contrasting it with the impermanence of Nature. The imagination now needs the aid of outer Nature, outer resurrection. Men want to see the plants sprouting from the ground, the Sun gaining power, light and warmth increasing. Nature's resurrection is needed to celebrate the resurrection idea. But this exigency also means the disappearance of the direct relationship that existed with the Festival of Adonis, and that can exist with the Mystery of Golgotha. A loss of intensity is suffered by that inner experience which can appear at physical death if the human soul knows that man passes physically through the portal of death and undergoes, for three days, what indeed can evoke a somber frame of mind; but then the soul must rejoice in a festive mood, knowing that precisely out of death—after three days—the human soul arises in spiritual immortality. The force inherent in the Festival of Adonis was lost, and the next event ordained for mankind was the resurrection of this force in greater intensity. One beheld the death of the god, of all the beauty and grandeur and vigorous youth in mankind. On the Day of Mourning this god was immersed in the sea. A somber mood prevailed, because first a feeling for the ephemeral in Nature was to be aroused. But the intention was to transform the mood induced by the impermanence of Nature into that evoked by the super-sensible resurrection of the human soul after three days. When the god—or his effigy—was raised up out of the water, the rightly instructed believer saw in this act the image of the human soul a few days after death: Behold! The spiritual experience of the deceased stands before thy soul in the image of the arisen god of beauty and youth. Every year in the fall something that is indissolubly linked with human destiny was awakened within the spirit of men. At that time it would have been deemed impossible to connect all this in any way with outer Nature. All that could be experienced in the spirit was represented in the ritual, in symbolical enactment. But when the time was ripe for effacing the old-time image and having memory take its place—imageless, inner memory of the Mystery of Golgotha experienced in the soul—mankind at first lacked the power to achieve this, because the activity of the spirit lay deep down in the substrata of the human soul. So up to our own time there has remained the necessity for calling in the aid of outer Nature. But outer Nature provides no complete allegory of the destiny of man in death; and while the idea of death survived, the idea of resurrection has faded more and more. Even though resurrection figures as a tenet of faith, it is not a living fact for people of more recent times. But it must once more become so; and the awakening of men's feeling for the true idea of the resurrection must be brought about by anthroposophy. If, therefore, as has been explained elsewhere, the anthroposophically imbued soul must sense the heralding thought of Michael, must intensify the idea of Christmas, so the idea of Easter must become especially festive; for to the idea of death anthroposophy must add the idea of resurrection. Anthroposophy itself must come to resemble an inner festival of the resurrection of the human soul. It must infuse into our philosophy a feeling for Easter, a frame of mind appropriate to Easter. This it can do if men will understand that the ancient Mysteries can live on in the true Easter Mystery, provided the body, the soul and the spirit of man—and the destiny of these in the realms of body, soul and spirit—are rightly understood.
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354. The Evolution of the Earth and Man and The Influence of the Stars: How did man originate? Earth life and star wisdom
24 Sep 1924, Dornach Tr. Gladys Hahn Rudolf Steiner |
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On the 21st of March, the day of the beginning of Spring, the sun rises at the present time in the constellation of Pisces. But it rises only once at that exact point. The point at which it rises shifts all the time. |
354. The Evolution of the Earth and Man and The Influence of the Stars: How did man originate? Earth life and star wisdom
24 Sep 1924, Dornach Tr. Gladys Hahn Rudolf Steiner |
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Rudolf Steiner: Good morning, gentlemen! I would like to add a few words to what we were considering last time, and then perhaps someone will have a new question. The question that was asked concerning man's origin can be rightly understood and answered only by looking back at the whole evolution of humanity. The assertion that men were originally animal-like, that they had an animal-like intelligence, and so forth, is nothing but a science fairy tale. It is contradicted by what has been found from the earliest historical times, and what—even though poetic in form—indicates the existence of great wisdom among the human beings who lived during those primeval earth conditions. At that time men did not feel inequality among themselves as they feel it today. The feeling of inequality always comes to the fore in an epoch when men have more or less lost real knowledge. Only think how at a certain period in ancient Egypt slavery was widespread. But slavery was not always there; it developed at a time when men had lost real knowledge of the world, had lost real science, and no longer knew what slavery signified. And if you think intelligently you will certainly ask yourselves: Why is it that, for instance, a labor movement had to arise with such forcefulness? Naturally it was bound to arise because conditions made it necessary, because people had come to feel that things could not go on as they were, and they wanted to call attention to how the conditions should be bettered. What makes the labor problem such a burning question is the fact that industry and all the various discoveries and inventions have gone in one particular direction. Before the spread of industry, need was not so oppressive. Why is it, then, that the advent of industry has brought this burden in its train? As every reasonable person will admit, those few human beings who do not live in actual need—shall we say, the capitalists, as they are usually called—do not create this need deliberately for the pure joy of it. Naturally, they would prefer the needs of all human beings to be satisfied. Obviously, that must be taken into account. But then this other question arises: Why is it that the few who reach leading positions lack the capacity to change conditions so that the needs of the masses will be satisfied? It is always the few leaders in the trade unions upon whom all the others depend. As things have developed, it is quite natural that it is always the few who lead, but they lack clear insight. And the masses of workers feel that these few do not themselves know what should be done. It has become obvious, especially just recently, that these few do not know what they should be doing. So one must say: Something is quite obviously lacking. And from the view of spiritual science, the thing lacking is knowledge of the spiritual world. This knowledge would confirm that it is absolutely untrue to say that at the beginning of their evolution human beings were unintelligent, dull, and that now they are enlightened. That is the general opinion today and it is simply not true. At the beginning of their existence on the earth, human beings possessed a knowledge not only of what was on the earth but also of the stars in the heavens. The reason why today this knowledge has degenerated into superstition—I have often spoken of this—is that, as time went on, these things were no longer investigated and hence came to be misunderstood. Originally there was a widespread knowledge of the stars; today the only knowledge of the stars that exists is one that makes calculations about them. But it is unable to penetrate to their spiritual reality. If a being living on Mars were to know only as much about the earth as our ordinary consciousness, our ordinary science, knows about Mars, that Mars being would believe that there is not a single soul on the earth—whereas actually there are fifteen to twenty hundred million souls on the earth! It is the same with the ideas people hold now about the stars; actually the stars are full of souls—only the souls are different. Of course you may say: But one can't see into the world of stars, so one can't know or observe the conditions there. That is an enormous error! Why can a man standing here see the piano over there? Because his eyes are so organized that he is able to see it. His eyes are not over there in the piano. In exactly the same way—as spiritual science, or anthroposophy, shows—if a human being not only develops from childhood to the level to which our modern education takes him, but develops further than that, he will in very truth be able to perceive what is spiritual in the stars, just as humanity originally perceived it. And then he will know that the stars have an influence upon the human being, each star a different influence. If, for example, it can be shown that Mars has an influence upon the development of grubs into cockchafer—it can also be shown that all the stars have an influence upon man's spiritual life. They have it indeed! But this knowledge of the stars has entirely disappeared—and what has come in its place? In earlier times, when men looked at the moon, they knew that from the moon come the forces for all propagation on the earth. No being would have offspring if the moon did not send to earth the forces of propagation. No being or creature would grow if the forces of growth did not come from the sun. No human being would be able to think if the forces of thinking did not come from Saturn. But all that people know today is the speed at which Saturn moves, the speed at which the moon moves, and whether there are a few extinct volcanoes on the moon. They know nothing more and don't want to know anything more. They simply find out by calculation what they want to know about the stars. But now let us turn from the world of stars to the world of men. Industry has come on the scene. In the age when all people could do about the stars was to make calculations, they began to do the same in the domain of industry. They did nothing but reckon and calculate, with the result that they forgot man altogether. They treated the human being himself as if he were part of a machine. And so the conditions have come about that prevail today. Conditions will never be satisfactory if people merely calculate what kind of conditions ought to prevail on the earth; they will have to know something beside that. That is the point. But then it must be admitted that human knowledge has deteriorated to a terrible extent in the very age that claims to be “enlightened.” I told you that at a recent Farmers' Conference it was the unanimous opinion that all agricultural products have been deteriorating for decades. The reason for this deterioration is that, with the exception of certain peasants who have instinctively hung on to bits of the earlier knowledge, nothing is really known about the way to take care of a farm. But how is such knowledge acquired? Certainly it can never be acquired by calculation, knowing that the moon will be a full moon again in twenty-eight days, but only by knowing, for instance, how the moon forces work in the fruition of grain, and so forth. This knowledge has been entirely forgotten. People don't even know what goes on in the soil in their fields. And they know still less what is going on in the world of men. Social science has produced nothing more than series after series of calculations. Capital, working hours, wages, are nothing but figures that have been calculated. And calculating does not come to grips with human life, or indeed with any life at all. The curse of the modern age is that everything merely is to be calculated. Instead of things being merely calculated, they should be studied and observed as they actually are, and this is only possible through first gaining knowledge of the stars. Today, the moment people hear the phrase, “knowledge of the stars,” they say immediately: That's idiotic! We've known for a long time that the stars have no influence whatever. But to assert that the stars have no influence upon what is happening on the earth, that, gentlemen, is the real idiocy! And the consequence is that there is no real knowledge left. That is a concrete fact. Take capital, for instance: It can be expressed in figures, it can be counted—and what is the result? If capital is merely a matter of calculation, it is of no importance who owns the capital, whether a single individual or everyone in common. For the same results will invariably ensue. Not until we again take hold of life so that our concern centers upon the human being as the prime reality, not until then will there be a social science capable of doing anything effective, a social science capable of really achieving something. That is why I also like to say this: Let us see what will come about through anthroposophy. It is, of course, still only in its beginning, and naturally it appears to be similar in many respects to the other science. But it will develop gradually into a complete knowledge of the human being. In the domain of education, for instance, it has already brought into being the Waldorf School. Not until this stage of knowledge has been reached will anthroposophical science be able to be applied effectively to social problems. Today you can only realize that the world's current knowledge is incapable of really effective intervention in life; it comes to a standstill everywhere. That is what I wanted to add. Are you satisfied so far? (Yes, yes!) Of course, a great deal could still be said, but there will be other opportunities for considering many aspects of the subject. So now, has someone else, perhaps, thought of a question? Question: Can anything be known about man's origin? Where he comes from? Dr. Steiner: That is a question about which many of you who have been here for some time have heard a great deal from me. Those of you who have come recently are naturally interested in such questions, so those who have already heard my answers will perhaps be willing to hear them again. When we look at the human being as he moves about on the earth, we see his body first and foremost. We also notice that he thinks and feels. If we look at a chair, no matter how long we wait, it doesn't begin to move about—because it cannot exercise will. We perceive that the human being wills. But speaking generally it can be said that we really see only the body. And it is very easy to form the opinion that this body constitutes the whole of man. Moreover, if this is believed, many arguments in proof of it can be found. (You see, in anthroposophy other people's opinions cannot be treated lightly. All points of view must be seriously considered.) And so it can be pointed out, for instance, that people can lose their memory if they take poison and are not immediately killed by it. The implication is that the body is a machine and everything depends upon the running of the machine. If the blood vessels burst in a man's brain and the blood presses on the nerves, such a man may lose not only his memory but his whole intelligence. So it can be said that everything is dependent upon the body. But that kind of thinking does not hold water if one really examines it thoroughly. It simply does not hold water. If it did, we could say that man thinks with his brain. But what is actually going on in the brain when a man thinks? Well, a real investigation of the human body shows that it is absolutely incorrect to say that when a man is thinking, something constructive is going on in his brain. On the contrary, something is always being destroyed, demolished, when he is thinking. Substances in the brain are being broken down, destroyed. Death on a small scale is perpetually taking place there. The final death that happens once and for all means that the whole body is destroyed; but what happens all at once in the entire body when a man dies is also taking place throughout the body during life, in a piecemeal process. Man excretes not only through his organs of excretion, the urine, feces, sweat, but in other ways as well. Just think what your head would look like if you never had your hair cut! Something is excreted there, too. And think of the claws you'd have if you never cut your nails! But not only that: man is all the time sloughing off his skin—he just doesn't notice it. Man is casting off substance all the time. In the case of the urine and feces the process is not very significant, because for the most part these simply contain what has been eaten, material that has not gone into the whole body, whereas what is excreted in the nails has gone through the whole body. Suppose you take your scissors and cut a fingernail. What you now cut away, you took in, you ate seven or eight years ago. What you ate went into the blood and nerves and passed through the whole body. It needed seven or eight years to do that. Now you cut it away. Just think of the body you have today, the body in which you are sitting there. If you had sat there seven or eight years ago, it would have been in quite another body! The body you had then has been cast away, has been sweated away, has been cut away with the nails, cut away with the hair. The entire body as it once was, has gone—with the exception of the bones and the like—and within a period of seven or eight years has been entirely renewed. So now we must ask ourselves: Does thinking originate from the constant upbuilding of the body or from the constant tearing-down of the body? That is an important question. If you have something in your body that brings about too much upbuilding—shall I say, if you drink one tiny glass too much, or not just one—most people can manage that—but if you drink enough more so that you know you're “loaded”—what happens then, gentlemen? The blood becomes very active and a terribly rapid process of upbuilding takes place. When that happens, when the blood becomes too tumultuous, a man loses consciousness. Thinking is not the result of an upbuilding process in the brain, but of a process of small, piecemeal destruction. If no tearing-down process took place in the human body, the human being would simply not be able to think. So the fact is that thinking does not come from our building up the body but from our continual killing of it bit by bit. That is why we have to sleep, because we don't do any thinking then. What is continually being demolished through our thinking is quickly restored in sleep. So waking and sleeping show us that while we are thinking, death is always taking place in the body on a small scale. But now picture for a moment not a man's body, but his clothing. If you take off all your clothes you are not, it is true, fit for the drawing room, but you are still there, and you can put on different clothes. That is what man does through the whole of his earthly life. Every seven or eight years he puts on a new body and discards the other. With animals there is a clear illustration of this: if you were to collect all the skins that a snake sloughs off every year, you would find that after a certain number of years it has discarded not only the skin but the whole of its body. In our case, of course, this is not so noticeable! And what about the birds? They moult. What are they doing when they moult? They're discarding part of their body; and after a period of a few years they've discarded it all, with the exception of the bones. What is it that remained? You yourself are sitting there today although you have nothing at all of the body you had some eight years ago. And yet there you are, sitting here. You created a new body for yourself. The soul, gentlemen, sits there. The spirit and soul sit there. The spirit and soul work on the body, building it up all the time. If you go for a walk and find a large pile of stones somewhere, you know that a house is going to be built; you will certainly not assume that the stones will suddenly have feet and will place themselves very neatly one above the other and build themselves into a house! Well, just as little do substances assemble to form themselves into our body. We receive our first body from our father and mother; but this body is thrown off entirely, and after seven or eight years we have a new one. We do not get this one from our parents; we ourselves have to build it up. Where does it come from? The body we had during the first years of life came from our parents; we could not have had a body without them. But what builds up the second body comes from the spiritual world. I do not mean the substance, but the active principle, the essential being, that is what comes out of the spiritual world. So we can say: When the human being is born, the body he has for the first seven or eight years of his life comes from his father and mother, but the soul and spiritual entity come from the spiritual world. And every seven or eight years the human being exchanges his body but retains all of himself that is spiritual. After a certain time the body is worn out and what earlier came into it as spirit and soul goes back again into the spiritual world. Man comes from the spiritual world and returns to the spiritual world. You can see, this is also something that has been entirely forgotten—simply because today people have become thoughtless and do not penetrate to the reality of things. Once they have seen how the body is renewed over and over again, they will realize that the force which brings about the renewal is a soul force working within the body. And now, gentlemen, what do you eat? Let us consider the different foodstuffs a human being eats. The simplest substance of all is protein. Not only in eggs but in the greatest variety of foodstuffs, in plants too, there is protein. Then man eats fat; he eats what are called carbohydrates—in potatoes, for instance—and he eats minerals. All other substances are composite substances; man eats them; he takes them into himself. They come from the earth; they are entirely dependent upon the earth. Everything we take in through the mouth is entirely dependent upon the earth. But now we don't take things in only through the mouth; we also breathe, and through our breathing we take in substances from the air. Usually this process is described very simply by saying: Man breathes in oxygen and breathes out carbon dioxide—as if he did nothing but breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out! But that is not the whole story. Very fine, rarefied substances are contained in the air we breathe. And we live not only on what we eat but also on these nourishing substances from the air. If we did nothing but eat, we would be obliged to replace our body very often, for what we eat is very rapidly transformed in the body. Only think how troublesome it is for someone when he does not get rid of what ought to be excreted within about twenty-four hours. The food that is eaten and then excreted passes through a rapid process. If we lived only on what we eat, we certainly wouldn't need seven or eight years to replace our body. It is because we take in very delicate, rarefied nourishment through the air, which is a slow process, that the replacement takes seven or eight years. It is very important to know that man receives nourishment from the air. The food he eats is used, for example, for the constant renewing of his head. But the nourishment he needs in order, shall we say, to have fingernails does not come from what he eats but from the substances he draws from the air. And so we are nourished through eating and through breathing. But now the really important fact is that when we take in nourishment from the cosmos through our breathing, we take in not only substance, but we take in at the same time the element of soul. The substance is in such a fine, rarefied state that the soul is able to live in it everywhere. So we may say: Man takes in bodily substance through his food; through his breathing he takes in, he lives with a soul element. But it is not the case that with every inhalation we take a piece of soul into ourselves and then with every exhalation breathe out a piece of soul again. In that event we would always be discarding the soul. No—it is like this: with our very first breath we take the soul into ourselves, and it is then the soul that brings about the breathing in us. And with our very last breath we set the soul free so that it can go back to the spiritual world. And now that we know these things, we can make some calculations. Most of you will already know what follows, but it may still surprise you. If you investigate, you will find that a human being draws 18 breaths a minute. Now reckon how many breaths he draws in a day: 18 breaths a minute, 18 x 60 = 1080 breaths an hour; in 24 hours, 24 x 1080 = 25,920 breaths a day. And now let us calculate—we can do so approximately—how many days a human being lives on the earth. For the sake of simplicity let us take 72 years as the average length of human life, and 360 days in a year. 72 years X 360 days = 25,920 days in a man's life. And that is the number of breaths a man draws in a day! So we can say, the human being lives as many days in his life as he draws breaths in one day. Now we know there are one-day flies—and there could also conceivably be 1/18-of-a-minute beings! (For the length of time is not the essential point.) So if the human being were to die every time he breathes we could say: He breathes the soul in and out again with every breath. Yet he remains—remains alive for 25,920 days. So now let us reckon those 72 years as a single breath. As I said before, with his first breath the human being breathes his soul in and with his last breath he breathes it out again. Assuming now that he lives an average of 72 years, we can say: This inbreathing and outbreathing of the soul lasts for a period of 72 years. Taking this period to be one cosmic day, we would again have to multiply 72 X 360 to get a cosmic year: 25,920! If we take the life of a human being as one cosmic day, we get the cosmic year: 25,920 cosmic days! But this number has still another meaning. On the 21st of March, the day of the beginning of Spring, the sun rises at the present time in the constellation of Pisces. But it rises only once at that exact point. The point at which it rises shifts all the time. About five hundred years ago it did not rise in Pisces (the Fishes) but in Aries (the Ram), and earlier still in Taurus (the Bull). So the sun makes a circle round the whole zodiac, finally getting back to Pisces. At a definite time it will rise again at exactly the same point, having made a complete circuit. How long does the sun need for this? It needs 25,920 years to go around and return to the same point at which it will rise at the beginning of Spring. When we have breathed 25,920 times, we have completed one day. Our soul remains while the breaths change. When we have completed 25,920 days, we have awakened as often as we have slept. In sleep, as we know, we do not think, we do not move, we are inactive. During sleep our spirit and soul have gone off to the spiritual world for a few hours; at waking we get them back again. Just as we let the breath go out and come back 18 times a minute, so in a day we let the soul leave once and return. Sleeping and waking, you see, are simply more lengthy breaths. We do short breathing 18 times a minute. The longer breathing is our sleeping and waking. And the longest breathing is our breathing in the soul and spirit when we are born and breathing it out again when we die. But there is still the very longest breathing of all; for we go with the sun as it completes its circuit of 25,920 years; we go into the world of the stars. When we think of the soul, gentlemen, at that very moment we leave the earth and go to the world of the stars. So—this is just a beginning of the foundation for an answer to the question which the gentleman asked. Just think what order and regularity prevail in the universe if again and again we get the number 25,920! Man's breathing is a living expression of the course of the sun. That is a fact of tremendous significance. So—I have begun to answer the question. I will continue next Saturday at 9 o'clock.41
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344. The Founding of the Christian Community: Sixteenth Lecture
20 Sep 1922, Dornach |
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You have the same symbol, for example, among the “seals and pillars”, and you will also find it again in the Apocalypse: the woman who is on the moon, the sun in front of the constellation of the Virgin, which points to midsummer, when it approaches the Christmas season. Here you also have the sun, with the moon below it. |
344. The Founding of the Christian Community: Sixteenth Lecture
20 Sep 1922, Dornach |
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Rudolf Steiner: It seems to me that these questions you have written down are largely rooted in matters that have already been discussed. Regarding the change of cult colors [1st question]: The point, as I told you, is that the cycle is that the time before Christmas is essentially blue, that at Christmas you have the light color; then the light color remains until Lent, when it turns black. Then we have mainly red during the Easter season, and then we move on to light colors for the Pentecost season. That is how it was presented the last time. So for what I call the festive season, we have the light color during the summer; if there are no special occasions, the color remains white. At Pentecost it is white with yellow edges. That remains essentially so until we have to move on to the blue color. Emil Bock: The color we are using now is already a light one. Rudolf Steiner: What I have suggested to you now is what I would advise you to use at all times for the regular trade fair because this violet that you have now is the color that you can actually use all year round on every occasion, whereas you could not do that with any other color. Emil Bock asks about the spiritual essence of colors. Why these colors cannot be used. Rudolf Steiner: If we take the color red, which would occur at the resurrection on Easter Sunday, we have in the red color that which characterizes the activity from the spiritual world, and in contrast to the red color, in the blue color we see the gradual decline of the physical into the spiritual world. These are the two color contrasts; therefore, the Advent is blue, the time immediately after Easter until Ascension Day is red, as the contrast. Then we have the other colors in such a way that they always have some other aspect. We have the universal color white, or light, at Christmas, which the Catholic Church has taken as the color of innocent children, but this is wrong, since white represents light as such, that is, the reappearance of the sun, the solstice. Then we have the black color, the color that moves toward the time of the Passion, which represents the darkening that culminates in death. Then in summer we don't actually have white, but light colors. If you don't go back to the old mystery tradition, then of course we don't actually have green. If we went back to what you call “cultic optics” – one would have to call it the cultic Gloria – then you would have a light green for summer, around Midsummer. But that is no longer used. But it could be reintroduced, a light yellow-green. But then you actually have all the colors. The thing is that everything else depends on the color of the chasuble, everything else. Now you are also asking about the other vestments here [2nd section of questions]. You have other vestments for the priest: the vestment for the afternoon service on Sundays. Have I not yet explained this? It is like this: a cope of this cut (see drawing on page 202) has the color of the chasuble that is worn down here. For you, since you will still be wearing the original garment for some time, which can always be worn on any occasion, it should be the color of the braids. The stole is worn under the mantle. It is better if you do not wear the alb at baptisms and when hearing confessions, but instead wear a shortened alb, so that you have an alb up to the knee. This is the priestly garment for these acts such as baptism, hearing confessions, anointing. Funerals should actually be performed in this mantle. The alb and stole are worn under this mantle. Now, what else I noticed: the alb has the belt around here and this belt is also the color of the chasuble, and this then makes it possible for you to cross the stole where it should be worn at the front. But that would be all the garments you need. Table 4 The sleeves are not important, but it is difficult to get a robe for every single thing now. Therefore, I am putting together here the things that I consider practically possible and that can serve quite well. The sleeves are really not important. Of course, you could also baptize in a kind of surplice that is sleeveless. All of this can be arranged at some point. But for now, having Alba and a surplice, which of course can have sleeves, the chasuble and a mantle like that for the Sunday afternoon service, which essentially consists of the reading of a short passage from the Gospel and a short sermon, during which the mantle is taken off. Then it is put on again and a psalm is read. This will be the Sunday afternoon or evening service. Everything else depends on the color of the chasuble, that is, the covering of the chalice and the cloth covering the altar; the altar server also wears a chasuble. Now you have a chasuble that I imagined you could use to celebrate every Mass in at first. You cannot think about going through the whole process for quite a long time. A chasuble already costs a small capital in Germany today. So I think you would do best if you used this color, which could be a little lighter – it turned out a little dark – and read every mass in it. Emil Bock: It is a safe guide for us to hear that violet should take the place of blue at Christmas and reddish yellow at Easter. Rudolf Steiner: I said that at Christmas a bright white is decisive; perhaps a very light violet. I said that at Christmas the point of view has always changed. Essentially, one has to hold that white should characterize the rising of the sun; that is a different point of view. The point of allowing light violet to enter is this: at Christmas you read the prime mass; you read it in light violet. I only said reddish yellow because I wanted to distinguish it from violet red. There are these two reds: vermilion, which I use for the very bright, shining red, in contrast to the more blue-based carmine red. The color of the trim? It is best to choose the trim that represents the complementary color, as you have it now. And the length of the robe: to just above the knee. The surplice goes to the knees. Under this robe you wear the alb. You only wear the surplice when you are officiating. Tunic, surplice, stole. Then you wear the beret. The beret is actually the outward sign of priestly dignity. You do not wear the beret as a vestment, but as an external badge. The beret is actually an official badge, not a priestly one. You do not need to wear it during the service. In the Old Testament you had to wear it because you had to be covered. But you wear it when you walk around the church to the altar and take it off when you come to the altar. It is actually what, like Athena's helmet, outwardly demonstrates your dignity. — During the sermon? Yes, you wear it during the sermon. You also preach with it. You preach with the beret. If we had come to the point where some of you were preaching, then you would have needed it. You wear the beret at funerals and at baptisms, but you take it off during the ceremony. You go to the ceremony with your beret on and you leave the ceremony with your beret on. [Regarding the third section of questions:] I will talk about oil tomorrow; I have talked about wine and bread, and about salt. I have also already spoken about Mercury and so on. – Ashes? Well, the thing is that the actual ashes are on their way to being crushed into an atomistic form. If you produce ashes when burning any substance (the drawing has not survived), then these ashes are on the path of matter to prepare itself to become receptive to spirit again. That is, the ashes, driven far enough in their incineration process, become capable of receiving an image of the universe and forming a kind of cell. [Gap in the stenographer's notes.] It is the case that the ashes are what serves the purpose of the regeneration of the cosmos. [Regarding the question: What substances and objects are consecrated before cultic use, on what occasion and by what words?] – I have already said that. Actually everything should be consecrated. But we need nothing more than to allow the consecration to be a completely free act, as I have done, in a similar way to the chasubles. So in this way everything should be consecrated. Interjection: water and wine? Rudolf Steiner: No, not that, but everything that is used as an auxiliary object in cults. Emil Bock: What about water, salt and ashes in the baptismal ritual? Rudolf Steiner: That is for baptism. It is necessary that you include in baptism the whole transformation that has taken place in the evolution of the earth through the Mystery of Golgotha; that is what matters in this matter. Emil Bock: That first the Christ is indicated by the water, and only then the cosmic foundation by the salt? Rudolf Steiner: Through water, we are led to the Father-God. It is the same process that has taken place through a truly profound fact, in that the female moon and the male sun have passed in the newer times into the female sun and the male moon. Thus you have a transition, a metamorphosis, that is in it. Emil Bock: While one must think of the Father God in the case of salt, here it is the water. Water – generative power; salt – sustaining power; ash – renewing power. You related the water to the Father, the salt to the Christ, the ash to the Spirit. Rudolf Steiner: There is a slight difficulty here because we cannot properly express what is there in time. If I describe: physical body, etheric body, astral body, sentient soul, intellectual soul, consciousness soul, spirit self, life spirit, spiritual human being, I also put them in that order; it looks as if I am putting them in succession. img But that is not true. I would have to combine two currents here (it is drawn on the board) if I want to draw it correctly. I would have to do it like this: physical body, etheric body, astral body; sentient soul, intellectual soul, consciousness soul; and now I would no longer have to draw the spirit self in one plane, but in a different direction, turning it around here and drawing it three times in a different direction. I would have to do it like this: Plate 4 This is also the case in the formula [of the baptismal ritual]. If you take the same sequence: water – Father, salt – Christ, ashes – Spirit; you will not get the real fact that you want. You have to [think] you live in the community of Christ through the birthing power of water, through the sustaining power of salt, through the renewing power of ashes. Now you turn the whole idea around, you come from a completely different side: in the Father's World Substance, in the Christ's stream of words, in the Spirit's radiance of light. - It is not possible for you to relate these things directly to one another, they are out of alignment with one another. [Regarding the last question of the third section:] Holy water and incense at the grave? – incense is only there to take over the connection to the spiritual world. Incense is burnt. You follow the path of the soul from the physical body until the soul reaches the spiritual world. You follow it by means of incense. You go from what is still below to what is above. And in holy water we have regeneration again. [Regarding the fourth question:] Use of a monstrance. Do you really need these devices? These were originally devices that remained fixed, that simply belonged to the architecture of the altar and represented the sun with the moon, and which were then transformed into a container that was used at solemn masses to initiate and conclude the mass and that was carried by Catholics in processions. Emil Bock: I believe that we do not have that need, but we recalled that you said that we should strive for this symbolum first. Rudolf Steiner: I said for the sermon that you should have this symbol as a guiding symbol: sun and moon, because by this you have the will to connect the physical cosmos with the spiritual cosmos at one point. It can also be used as a fixed symbol in your worship, when you perform the worship, either architecturally or painted: the monstrance as the connection of the sun with the moon. You have the same symbol, for example, among the “seals and pillars”, and you will also find it again in the Apocalypse: the woman who is on the moon, the sun in front of the constellation of the Virgin, which points to midsummer, when it approaches the Christmas season. Here you also have the sun, with the moon below it. This is the same as the monstrance. This is what I meant, you have to work towards this symbol. You will find opportunities to use this symbol everywhere, in speech and in representation. But I think that this is one of the points where, in the use of this symbol... [Gap in the stenographer's notes]. The Catholic Church today does not admit this whole context and uses the monstrance like an idol that is worshipped, which has its center where the consecrated host is carried. I don't think you have a need for it. Otherwise, what I said about not making it too Catholic will come about. But the symbolum is something to which you should pay special attention. [The next question in the fourth section:] Is it possible to use wooden chalices? — Of course you can use wooden chalices. Emil Bock: Where should the confession take place? Rudolf Steiner: It can take place anywhere. It is very difficult to perform this half cultic act without a stole, and you cannot wear the stole without at least a surplice as something else. You can speak to the people at first, that is a counsel, but then, in order to maintain the priestly dignity, put on the surplice and stole before you summarize the matter in the sentences in which it should culminate. That is how it should be, but for the time being you can simplify it. You can do it by giving the advice without the stole and then putting on the stole by letting it culminate in a cultic act. This makes a very solemn impression. [The next questions:] Why the touching of the left cheek at the parish communion? — This is a special form of laying on of hands. And: Why the signs on the forehead, chin and chest of the infant? — This is the acceptance into the three powers of the Trinity. Perhaps it should be mentioned that you have to get the congregation used to making the three crosses on the forehead, chin and chest at the same time as you make the sign [sign of the cross]. You make the sign on the person to be baptized first at the baptism. Emil Bock: Why these three parts of the body? Rudolf Steiner: These three parts of the body express – of course, here too we are dealing with a shift – that when we make the triangle on the forehead, we are dealing with the human head system, with the past, if we make the square on the chin, it has to do with the future, because this actually represents the metabolic system, and under this we have to do with the chest system, with the present. However, in reality these things shift, they are not arranged in this way. But there is a trinity everywhere. You can even find this in pictures in the Catholic Church. You often find the Father depicted at the top, with the dove below and the crucifix above, which does not mean that this is a systematic order. As soon as you approach the spiritual, you are not always able to maintain a systematic order in terms of space or time. I think I have already made it clear to you that in the spiritual realm, numbers do not correspond to our numbers at all. You have strange experiences, for example, that two times two is not four in the spiritual world. Next question: Is it possible to burn incense using bowls instead of the usual censer? — You can, of course, burn incense with whatever you can handle. This form of censer is the most convenient to use. Once you have mastered the technique, it is extremely easy; you can direct it so easily. You can use it to burn incense with anything that you can use to burn incense with, without burning yourself; because you don't get burned with the incense burner, it is very comfortable. Once you have some practice, it is excellent. I have never found a prescription for the shape of the incense burner anywhere. The prescription consists of burning incense, not of the incense burner. The only prescription is that you burn incense. A participant: Can you put the incense bowl on the altar? Rudolf Steiner: You must burn incense yourself, it must be your deed. But the shape of the censer, there is no rule about that. [Regarding the question:] The right and left sides of the altar in their alternation during the act of consecration. — This is how it is: if you start from the right side of the altar based on the Gospel reading [i.e. from the left as seen by the faithful], then you proclaim – in the understanding that the proclamation is about the cross – to where the eye looks; active on the right, passive on the left. The remaining things depend on whether one speaks more to the heart, then one speaks to the left, or to the mind, then one speaks to the right. The change is on the right side of the altar, that is, to the left of the faithful [as seen from their perspective]. Emil Bock: Is the consecration addressed to the mind? Rudolf Steiner: The consecration is directed to the mind. The missal lies on the right side. The consecration itself takes place in the middle. The book lies where the gospel book lies. But to understand it, the highest clarity is needed. The action is already directed to the mind. You also have to look at it in such a way that you have to distinguish whether a believer comes into consideration more in an action than in the reading of the Gospel, or the priest, who always looks to the other side. What is right and left for the believer is not for the priest. The light comes from the east. So it is a matter of either the original concept, that the altar itself is placed to the east, or the newer concept, that the church choir is in the east. The correct thing is to orient the altar to the east, that the altar is the east of the church and that the believer looks to the east. From the very earliest days of Christianity, the altar was always erected over the grave of some founder of a community or some martyr, so that in fact there never was an altar in the Christian church that was not intended as a gravestone. One celebrates mass over the grave of a revered person. The altar also has the form of a gravestone, and is thus intended as a memorial. Emil Bock: For us, there is no objection to having a movable table? Rudolf Steiner: You will have a movable altar as long as you do not have the main mass in a specially built building for it. You have many altars in large churches, and they are directed in all possible directions. Whether you place one altar in the room or many, it makes no difference. [Regarding the fifth question:] What is the more precise distribution of the pericopes for the gospel reading over the course of the year? — It is good to read the Gospels in such a way that you distribute them throughout the [church] year. Leave the letters, the Acts of the Apostles and the Apocalypse for those parts of the year that are not exhausted by the Gospels. You cannot transfer anything from the Gospel to the time of July or August. Nothing from the Gospels fits there. A participant: So the Epistle is read instead of the Gospel? [Another question is asked, but the stenographer only noted:] because of the name? Rudolf Steiner: The gospel is the whole of the New Testament. I have also used [the expression] in this way. Until the end of the Apocalypse, I call it the “gospel”. The gospels go until Pentecost. It is not true that if they continue, they do not mean anything that falls on the day. I would consider a uniform order of pericopes to be incorrect. The Catholic Church has done this because it wanted to have hierarchical authority. They will not need that at all. The letters of Paul and the Apocalypse are used outside of the church year. Then you will find some clues in the festivals that I have recorded in my calendar. I have included festivals that are to be regarded as Christian festivals, not as Roman Catholic ones. There you will notice some clues. Otherwise one would first have to study the matter carefully. The Catholic Church has simply distributed everything. You should not stick to it, but you should start there with the freedom of teaching. [Regarding your questions:] Is it the duty of parishioners to communicate? — I would not consider it right to introduce a duty, but I would consider it right for you to work in such a way that no one fails to communicate. - Is it possible to exclude parishioners from communion? What would be the point of that? Emil Bock: We just wanted to think these things through. Some of us have considered that someone has been accepted into the community who would not have been accepted as a member at another point in time. If this person now wants to come to communion, can they always be admitted? Rudolf Steiner: It is to be assumed that in those cases that are not, I would say, self-evident cases, you always have the opportunity to have some kind of consultation with these people. That will happen automatically, and then you will have to prepare him in the right way. If you have a murderer who is to be executed the next day, you will not refuse him Communion for that reason. That is about the most radical case. It cannot be right for you to refuse Communion. It will be very difficult for you to have any jurisdiction over the community at all – the church never had that, the political community always lent itself to it – you will never have it. The church has never burned a heretic; it has only said that he is a heretic and worthy of death. The church itself never burned heretics. A participant asks about church discipline. If a parishioner continues to live an immoral life but wishes to take part in Holy Communion, do one have the right to exclude them? Rudolf Steiner: In my opinion, the only way to do that would be to oblige him, if he wants to take communion, to accept counseling from you, not in community with the other believers. In this way, you would exercise disciplinary power that is more aimed at ensuring that he does not lose contact with the community, that he is only allowed to sit in a certain place, for example, away from the others when the mass is read. If he puts up with it, it will have the desired effect. The others who don't put up with it leave the church. That is a different kind of punishment. For those who don't put up with it, refusing to take communion is also effective. [Next question:] Is it advisable to make the ritual texts available to the parishioners? The Credo? - The Credo must of course be made available to all parishioners, they should only hear the rest. A participant: Can the text be read in community meetings? Rudolf Steiner: There is no need to exclude that, but it should be made clear that the text is for listening and not for reading. I gave the friends who wanted it prayers for young children. With these prayers, I gave the instruction that the children should not learn or read them by heart; they are spoken in front of the children. They should take them in by listening, not by learning, because: however much is learned in this way, it is ineffective. It must be a process that only works through listening. The cult text should also be heard and seen in this way. You can, of course, explain it, but you have to understand that the cult text should be heard, so that the cult text has no meaning if it is not heard. If someone reads it, it is not a cult text at all; he must hear it from someone else. If he reads it, it would only be a cult text if he heard it at the same time from the transcendental world; then it would become a cult text for him. But if someone living on the physical plane reads the text, it is not a cult text. A participant: What if a member of the community asks for the text? Rudolf Steiner: This can only have a meaning if you consider it good for the development of his soul. Then it is not used as a cultic text, but as a meditation. |
143. Experiences of the Supernatural: The Human Soul's Activities in the Course of Time
14 Jan 1912, Winterthur Rudolf Steiner |
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From there he observed the course of the stars, letting the transformation of the constellations affect his soul. And then the things came to him that he could say about the future. It arose as an intuition. |
143. Experiences of the Supernatural: The Human Soul's Activities in the Course of Time
14 Jan 1912, Winterthur Rudolf Steiner |
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Perhaps it would be good today to reflect on spiritual-scientific questions that could serve one or the other when it comes to defending spiritual science externally. For precisely when we meet for the first time in a place where, so to speak, a kind of beginning or starting point of the spiritual-scientific movement is to be considered, it is quite good to bring to mind some of the moral questions that often arise for us, , especially when we ourselves are already working in this or that branch and then stand before people who come to us without any knowledge of spiritual science and want to know something that could perhaps lead them to a conviction or at least to an attitude towards spiritual science. In this case, spiritual science must refer to transcendental, spiritual experience. And just as the message of the spiritual scientific world view is brought to us today, it is a narrative, a narrative of what the spiritual researcher — by making his soul an instrument to research in the spiritual world — can reveal and which has the same certainty for him as the fact that roses or tables and chairs exist for our external perception, that is, an immediate certainty of perception. But what does that matter to us, who do not have such direct certitude of vision? the others might ask. For us it can only lead to our believing what the spiritual researcher says. Now I have always emphasized that this is not the case. It is true that the things of the higher world can only be known by penetrating into them; but if they are then only logically presented, it is such that everyone can grasp them if he applies his reason in the right way, so that he can say to himself: 'Everything that is said here agrees more with the facts than anything that is said by another philosophy'. We can therefore calmly apply our reason and find that from the logic that underlies things, the matter can already be grasped. It is not so easy, but it does come about that even the non-seeing person can form a well-founded conviction. Of course, what can be said to outsiders will not be enough for the actual proofs. But if we take certain things that anyone can know and compare them with what the spiritual researcher says, then we can basically get quite far. Let us take just one very elementary spiritual truth: the truth that a person consists of four parts: the physical body, the etheric body, the astral body and that which we call the I. Of these four members, the outer world only knows the physical body, and of course everyone is free to deny that there is such a thing as an ether body or an astral body or the I. One can say: Everyone speaks of the ego; but it is still refuted. The ego is like a kind of flame that is consumed by the fuel of the physical body like a wick. — This is how they wanted to refute the philosopher Bergson, who refers to the persistence of the ego. But we can see how the ego survives individual perceptions. Every day shows this, since every night the ego is extinguished and cannot be experienced as something that continues uninterruptedly. One could accept that these supersensible elements can be denied; but there is one thing that a person cannot deny, namely, that he perceives three kinds of inner experiences within himself. One is that he experiences representations in his soul. For everyone knows that when he looks at an object and then turns around and still has the impression of it, he has experienced a representation. The second thing that a person experiences, and which he must distinguish from his perceptions, are the emotions: pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, sympathy and antipathy. And there is a third thing that a person cannot deny: that he has impulses of will. Let us take the world of imagination: a person can form an idea by letting the world of perceptions take effect on him. He can also form ideas by reading a novel, because a person also has ideas when he reads something. You all know that a person sometimes has it hard and sometimes not so hard in terms of his ideas. The images that a person instinctively likes to indulge in have a different effect than those that they indulge in with distaste or that cause them difficulties. You all know that a difficult calculation has a different effect on the way you think than a novel does. We notice that we become tired from the life of images when it takes effort on our part. This can be all the less doubted since it is a means to fall asleep more easily. It is not necessarily images that particularly irritate us, nor those that worry us, but rather those that are difficult for us. In any case, every person can experience this in themselves: falling asleep relatively easily when they immerse themselves in a world of images before falling asleep, bound by a sense of duty. Let us now take the emotions. Lust and sorrow, joy and pain, worry, grief and the like are something that can, under certain circumstances, cause us external difficulties at such moments. A person who is severely affected by his emotions will find it difficult to fall asleep. Even joyful experiences will prevent him from falling asleep peacefully. If you pay attention to such things, you will soon notice that emotions are a greater hindrance than perceptions when going to sleep, and especially emotions that are related to the most intense interests of the ego. If a person is anticipating a particular event, they often won't sleep for weeks. Just try it: an event that is bound to occur with a certain degree of certainty, for example the appearance of a comet – if you are not an astronomer who has an ego interest in it – will keep you awake quite well. Not the astronomer, because he has calculated and is waiting anxiously to see if his calculation is correct. Now we can look at these emotions from another perspective. We can, in a certain respect, associate sleep with the clairvoyant side of a person. The state of sleep is such that the person is unconscious. Clairvoyance is only: sleep permeated by spiritual light, conscious sleep, if we may define it in this way. It should therefore be favorable for clairvoyant states when one is free of all emotional upheaval, and unfavorable when one is filled with it. This can be confirmed by many things that can also be known externally, for example, in the case of Nostradamus, who in the 16th century was an important clairvoyant of the kind that he had prophetic clairvoyance, so that even pure historians cannot doubt that events that he brought into verse were fulfilled and that, when compared, show that he made quite wonderful statements. Even the historian Kemmerich has recognized this because it cannot be denied. Kemmerich himself says that he had set himself completely different tasks: he only wanted to provide evidence that health conditions for humans have improved since the 16th century. And then he came to deal with Nostradamus. When we follow Nostradamus, it is interesting to consider his life circumstances. He was a person who possessed such clairvoyant powers that were based on disposition, so that they were found in the whole family. But in his case they came up in a special way because he was a devoted, wonderful doctor. He did great things, especially during a plague epidemic in Provence. But then it was said that he was a secret Calvinist. This harmed him so much that he had no choice but to give up his medical practice. You have to understand what that means! The powers are in the personality after all! Physicists find that when forces dissolve in nature somewhere, they are utilized elsewhere. - Only in spiritual areas, people do not want to know anything about it. If a person develops such powers in his profession, then such beneficially developed as this as a doctor, so must such forces, which are released, manifest themselves elsewhere. And they all turned into clairvoyant powers in Nostradamus, because he had a certain original clairvoyance, as did Paracelsus. Now, look: Nostradamus describes quite nicely how he came to foresee future events. He had a laboratory. But it was not a laboratory like chemists have. It was a room, a room next to his apartment, with a glass roof. From there he observed the course of the stars, letting the transformation of the constellations affect his soul. And then the things came to him that he could say about the future. It arose as an intuition. It leaped out of his mind. But in order for such things to come to him, he had to be completely free of worry and care and agitation of mind. There we have an example of how, in clairvoyance, just as in healthy sleep, there must be an absence of agitation of mind. Now let us go further and inquire about the connection between a person and their will impulses, insofar as these will impulses have a connection with the moral. Let us again consider the moment of falling asleep. This is an important moment for a person, because, as spiritual science tells us, this is when they pass over into the astral world. Let us consider the moral impulses in this moment of falling asleep. In order to observe these, one must pay great attention to such processes. Those people who are so careful make the following experience: So the moment of falling asleep approaches. While before the eye had seen clearly, now the outlines of the objects become more and more indefinite. Something like fog covers them. It is as if the person feels cut off from their surroundings. There is also a change in the physical body in relation to a certain something: one can no longer move the limbs. They can no longer follow a force that they used to follow. Furthermore, the person notices that they feel as if certain things, which must be described as impulses of the will, are being brought to mind all by themselves. The things he has made appear before him as a unity, things he has made in such a way that he does not have to reproach himself. And he feels an immense bliss over everything he has done well. Through good spirits, people are protected from the bad things appearing before their soul. Of course, feeling bliss over the good that has been done cannot occur if no good has been done. But then, people are generally not so bad as to do nothing good. The person who is paying attention senses how something arises like a thought that remains dark and yet distinct before the soul: Oh, if only this moment could be held on to, oh, if only it could always remain like this! Then a jolt occurs and consciousness is gone. While good impulses evoke bliss and promote falling asleep, bad impulses hinder it even more than emotions. A person falls asleep with great difficulty over pangs of conscience. Under certain circumstances, will impulses are an even worse hindrance than emotions to enter the spiritual world into which we are to enter. The life of imagination makes it relatively easy, the emotions are already more difficult, and remorse about actions for which we can reproach ourselves is the least likely to let us enter the spiritual world. Usually, the images, that is, our images, keep watch; as we let the images of the day pass before us, we usually fall asleep quite well. But when sensations are added, they are a less good guard; we fall asleep less well under arousal. But what most guards our sleep, so that we best enter devachan, are the volitions, the volitions that have led us to moral deeds. When in our retrospective view we come to a point that fills us with satisfaction, with moral satisfaction about a good deed in which our will impulse has been expressed, then the moment of bliss is there that carries us over into devachan. If we pay attention to what spiritual science has to say, we will find that there is already agreement between these observations and what has been found through clairvoyance. For spiritual science tells us: Man belongs to the astral world with his etheric body. Because he belongs to the astral world with his etheric body, he lives in his perceptions as in something that is not inherent in the physical world. The physical world gives us perceptions. But we have to turn away from them, and then we are left with something else: ideas. These are already supersensuous. Man has these ideas because the forces of the astral world reach into his etheric body, so that man stands in a certain connection with the astral world through his ideas. Secondly, spiritual science tells us that emotions are something that is not only connected to the astral world, but also to a higher one; for human beings also have emotions in connection with the lower devachan. Thirdly, spiritual science and all occultism teaches that through the moral work of the will impulses, the human being is connected to the higher devachan world, the world of the so-called formless devachan. Thus, in man, these three types of soul life indicate three ways of connecting with the higher worlds. Compare what is experienced in ordinary life with what spiritual science says. It is in agreement. Imaginations do not hinder falling asleep, because we have to enter the astral world through them. On the other hand, in order to enter the world of Devachan, we must have such emotions that allow us to enter a higher spiritual world. We cannot fall asleep through such emotions, which make us toss and turn on our bed. The world of moral will impulses signifies our connection with the higher world of Devachan. We will not be allowed to enter there if we do not have such volitional impulses that we do not have to reproach ourselves for. So we cannot really sleep if we have pangs of conscience. We are locked out there. And the bliss we feel when we do a good deed is an outward sign that we are allowed to enter the devachan world. No wonder that people experience this as a bliss in which they would always like to live. They feel so close to the higher devachan world that they would like to remain there. Unless a person is clairvoyant, he cannot imagine these highest states other than as the feeling of falling asleep, which occurs as bliss and moral sensation. Thus we can show man: You have a soul life within you. What you imagine manifests itself in such a way that it brings you into connection with a higher world, and in such a way that it makes it easiest for you to enter the higher world; it is related to the astral. What the human being lives out in this way is like a shadow of the higher world. Emotions separate us more, because through them the human being is connected to the lower devachan world; will impulses, on the other hand, separate us even more, because they are connected to the higher devachan world. The whole thing is, however, still connected with other facts: what is most effective after death in Kamaloka are the emotions and moral impulses. Ideas about the sensory world die off, only those of the supernatural can be taken along by the person. On the other hand, our emotions haunt us after death and remain. Because they are what keep us in Kamaloka for a certain amount of time. For example, a person who is very bad would not be able to enter Devachan at all through his remorse between death and a new birth, but would have to reincarnate without it. Without moral impulses he would not be able to ascend to the higher devachan world; he would have to return and make up for it in a short time. Since he had no good emotions, even the lower devachan is closed to him. Thus we can compare and show that we can gain an insight into the facts of ordinary life, of the ordinary life of the soul, if we explain them in terms of spiritual science. I would like to tie in with what has just been said another fact that will seem important to you if you turn your spiritual gaze to the fact of the doctrine of reincarnation, of repeated earthly lives. If we incarnate repeatedly on earth, it must have a certain purpose. After all, evolution would serve no purpose if we did not experience something through it! What is the point of reincarnation? Through the facts of spiritual insight, we come to see how very different human life is in different ages. Let us think back to ancient times, when people spoke Greek or Latin and did what was customary at the time! What is required today: that children be sent to school, only came about late. While today we see an illiterate person as an uneducated person, this was not the case in the past. Otherwise, our statistics would have to call Wolfram von Eschenbach, for example, an uneducated person. Something else that is not considered education today was different in ancient Rome, for example: every Roman citizen – even those who plowed their fields – knew exactly the content of the Twelve Tables and much else that was related to the organization of the civil state. The Romans did not need to run to the lawyer for every little thing. – That is one example. If these great differences were known, people would no longer ask why we have to keep reincarnating as children; surely it is not necessary! No, it is not! Each time we return, civilization has changed so much that we have to learn something new. So, we were born in completely different circumstances, and it is absolutely necessary to keep coming back until the Earth has reached its goal. Now we can best distinguish what a person can become in the successive cultures if we know that the various qualities that have been listed today as an inner soul life gradually develop in the outer culture. In our time, it is characteristic that of the impulses listed, the greatest value is placed on the imagination. We live in a culture of the imagination. The intellect is being developed. In Greek and Roman culture, people did not think so much, but they perceived more than people do today. Something funny, but at the same time something great, is contained in what Hebbel, the playwright, wrote in his notebook: Let us assume that Plato was reborn; then he would become a high school student and would have to read Plato in the Greek language, and the high school teacher is terribly dissatisfied because he does not understand Plato and beats him. - That is what Hebbel wanted to dramatize. Well, on the one hand it is quite comical, but on the other hand it is quite understandable. Because it is true that today the high school teacher represents much more than even the great philosopher Plato in his time. It is just that today, in a certain sense, one looks at the world shortsightedly. Today's farmer thinks more than the Greek philosopher thought. In contrast, in those days the perceptive faculty was much more developed. Man was connected with all of nature. Perception was then the same as what we now call imagination. Today, perception is no longer learned, only by those who undergo training. It is quite possible for someone to get far in what he learns in the laboratory, and yet be very inexperienced outside, unable to tell the difference between wheat and rye. So we can say that people today have a lot of imagination, but in those days they were trained in perception. Thus we can distinguish between two epochs: one of perception and one of imagination. Then a third will follow, through which the movements of the soul will be developed, which today only take place on the side. A person who begins to undergo a certain development must indeed already anticipate what general human culture is to become in later times. He must therefore foster the movements of the soul. It may easily happen that someone begins to develop their emotions towards higher worlds and then, in contact with other people, has the culture of ideas. Then he will observe that one time the right thing is felt, another time the wrong thing. A purely intellectual person will accept what is right and reject what is wrong on logical grounds. It will take a long time before a higher cultural level is reached in which one will feel a sense of pleasure in the face of what is right and a sense of displeasure in the face of what is wrong. This then gives one certainty about true and false being; for what is required is not just a conception of true and false being. We do not need long to prove a matter, for we grasp it in a moment. Today we must prove, develop. Then it will no longer be necessary to prove, but to please. Therefore, when we incarnate again, a soul culture will follow the culture of perception of the Greeks and the culture of imagination of our time. Then another culture will follow in relation to the impulses; then the will impulses will undergo a great education. Those people who will incarnate then will pursue, so to speak, a Socratic ideal. If that were not the case, a person, no matter how clever he is, could be an ideal scoundrel; it would be in vain that Hamlet wrote on his tablet that one can smile and smile and smile and yet be an out-and-out scoundrel. The era of emotional upheaval is followed by an era of pronounced morality. As occult research shows, this will present itself in a very special way. Let us assume that people become ever wiser and wiser. One can become wise in the way of today's way of thinking. One can even use one's wisdom to stage evil deeds. But strangely enough, in the epoch after next, this will happen: the evil of the impulses of the will will have a paralyzing effect on intellectuality! This will be the peculiarity of the moralistic cultural epoch: immorality will have the power to kill intellectuality. A person in this epoch must therefore develop in such a way that he must follow his intellectuality with his morality. We can therefore say: We have the Greco-Roman culture as a time of the culture of perception, ours as a time of the intellectual. Then comes the time of the culture of feeling and after that the time of the actual morality. Now it is interesting to observe how an important impulse affects people in these successive cultural epochs. Here we have to refer back to what was said before, that the faculty of perception connects us with the physical, the faculty of imagination with the astral, the emotions with the lower devachan and morality with the higher devachan. Thus, if an impulse were to reach a person in Greek and Roman times, the person was schooled to perceive particularly what approached from outside. Therefore, the impulse of the Christ event enters the world as an external perception. Now we live in the culture of ideas. Therefore, our cultural epoch will achieve its goal by knowing Christ as something that is perceived from the astral world as an inner idea. He will manifest himself as an etheric form from the astral world. In the next epoch, in the time of the emotions, the human being will particularly express his emotions in order to see the Christ astral. And then in the morality epoch, the Christ will reveal Himself as the highest that man can experience: as an I that shines forth from the upper devachan world. Thus, the perception of the Christ will also develop further. In his ideas, in his imaginations, man will now perceive the Christ in a natural way. Thus we see from these representations that man can find a certain agreement between what spiritual science says and what happens in the world, provided that man brings something to it. These are points that can be touched upon for a local association to answer some of the numerous questions through which man can approach the spiritual world. |
123. The Gospel of St. Matthew (1946): The upward development of man
12 Sep 1910, Bern Tr. Unknown Rudolf Steiner |
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He said therefore: ‘With these methods of applying Myths and Constellations to any great event, it is possible to do anything. If someone comes and points out that in the life of Christ we have a Sun-myth, in order to show that Christ Jesus never lived, one can also assert by such methods that Napoleon never lived, and can easily prove it. |
Marvellous connections can also be discovered between the name of Napoleon's mother, Letitia, and Leto, the mother of Apollo; further, that Apollo—the Sun—had twelve constellations around him; Napoleon had twelve Marshals, who are nothing more than symbolic expressions for the Zodiacal signs surrounding the sun. |
123. The Gospel of St. Matthew (1946): The upward development of man
12 Sep 1910, Bern Tr. Unknown Rudolf Steiner |
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The upward development of man, and the descent of divine beings into human souls and bodies. The four points of view of the Evangelists in accordance with the Initiation of each. The Baptism in Jordan and the life and death of Christ Jesus as two stages of Initiation. The Resurrection revealing Christ as the Spirit of earthly existence. The Sun-Aura in the Earthly-Aura. The divinity of Man. Human quality of the Gospel of Matthew Studying the evolution of mankind in accordance with spiritual science, and watching its progress step by step, we are bound to acknowledge that the most important fact of this evolution is that man, because he incarnates again and again in different epochs, advances to ever higher degrees of perfection, and thus gradually reaches the goal where he has developed, in his inner being, certain active powers corresponding to the different stages of planetary development. We see, on one hand, the man who progresses upwards, who keeps his divine goal before him, but who would never be able to evolve to the heights he should attain if beings whose whole path of evolution is different did not come to his assistance. From time to time beings from other spheres enter our earthly evolution and unite with it, so as to raise men to their own exalted realms. Even as regards earlier planetary conditions we may express this in a wide sense by saying: Already during the Saturn stage of evolution, exalted beings—the Thrones—offered up their will-substance so that from it the earliest beginnings of man's physical body might be formed. This is but a general example; but beings whose evolution is far in advance of that of men, have ever bent down to them and united with their evolution, by dwelling for a time within a human soul. Such beings have ‘assumed a human form’ as is often said, or to put it more trivially, have entered a human soul as an inspiring power, so that a human being who has been ensouled in this way by a god might accomplish more in human evolution than he could otherwise have done. Our age, permeated as it is with materialistic conceptions, levelling everything, does not accept such facts willingly; indeed I might say that it retains only the crudest notion of accepting the descent of beings from higher regions, beings who enter into man and speak to him. Modern people regard such beliefs as the wildest superstition. Rudiments of such beliefs have, however, remained to our day, though people are for the most part unaware that they hold them; they have retained, for instance, a belief in the occasional appearance of persons of ‘genius.’ Men of genius rise high above the great mass of mankind even in the opinion of ordinary individuals, who say of such persons: Other qualities have come to fruition in their souls than are to be found in average humanity. Such ‘geniuses’ are at least still credited. But there are also circles where there is no longer such belief; the materialistic thought of to-day discredits them, it has (no belief in facts concerning the life of the spirit: Belief in genius does, however, continue in wide circles, and if this is not to be an empty belief we must acknowledge that in a genius through whom human evolution has been advanced, a power, other than the ordinary power of men, works through a human agency. Looking to the teaching that knows the true facts concerning men of genius, one realizes that when such men appear who seem as if suddenly possessed by something extraordinarily good, or great, or powerful, that a spiritual power has descended and taken possession of the place from which this being of power must now work, namely, the inner nature of the man himself. To people who think in accordance with Anthroposophy it should be clear from the beginning that there are two possibilities; the upward evolution of men to spiritual heights, and the descent from above of divine, spiritual beings into human bodies or human souls. In one part of my Rosicrucian Mystery Play it is pointed out that whenever something important is to take place in human evolution a divine being must unite with a human soul and permeate it. This is a necessity of human evolution. To understand this in connection with our spiritual evolution on earth, we must recall how in the time of its early beginnings the Earth was united with the Sun, from which it is now separated. Anthroposophists know, of course, that this does not refer merely to a separation of the substance of the Earth from the substance of the Sun, but with the going forth of divine beings who were associated with the Sun or with the other planets.) After this separation of the Sun, certain spiritual beings remained connected with the Earth, while others remained with the Sun, because they had evolved beyond earthly connections, and could not complete their further cosmic evolution on the Earth. Thus we have the fact that one kind of spiritual being remained connected with the Earth, while other spiritual beings sent their active forces down to Earth from the Sun. After the departure of the Sun from the Earth we have, as it were, two spheres of activity, that of the Earth with its beings and that of the Sun with its beings. The Spiritual Beings who served mankind from a higher sphere are those who chose the Sun as their dwelling-place, and from this realm come the beings who have united themselves from time to time with earthly humanity so that they might aid the further evolution—both of Earth and man. In the myths of various peoples we constantly find reference to such ‘Sun-heroes’ who have descended from spiritual realms to participate in human evolution; and a man who is filled by such a Sun-being is something far more than from outward seeming he would appear to be. The outward appearance of such a man is deceptive—it is Maya; but behind the Maya is the real being who can only be guessed at by those who can penetrate to the profoundest depths of such a nature. In the Mysteries people knew, and still know, of this twofold fact concerning the path of human evolution. People distinguish now, as they distinguished in the past, divine beings who descend to Earth from spiritual spheres, and men who strive upwards from the Earth towards initiation into spiritual mysteries. ‘With what kind of Being then are we concerned in the Christ? In the last lecture we learnt that in the designation, ‘Christ, the Son of the living God,’ we are concerned with a descending Being. If we wish to describe Him by a word drawn from Oriental philosophy He would be called ‘an Avatar,’ a God who had descended. But we have only to do with such a descending Being from a certain moment; and we must accept what is described by all four Evangelists, by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, as such an appearance. At the moment of the Baptism of John, a Being descended to our Earth from the realms of Sun-existence and united with a human being. Now we have to realize clearly that according to the meaning of the four Evangelists this Sun-Being was greater than any other Avatar, than any other Sun-Being who up to that time had ever come to Earth. They, therefore, take trouble to explain that a specially prepared being had to advance from the side of humanity to meet this great descending Being. All four Gospels, therefore, tell of the Sun-Being—the ‘Son of the living God’—who came towards men to aid their further progress; but only the Gospels of Matthew and Luke speak of the man who evolved towards this Sun-Being so that he might receive Him into himself. They narrate how the human being for thirty years prepares for the moment when he can receive the Sun-Being into himself. Because the Being we call the Christ is so universal, so all-comprising, it did not suffice that the bodily sheaths that were to receive Him should be prepared in any simple way. A quite specially prepared physical and etheric sheath had to evolve, meet for the reception of this descending Being. Whence these came we have seen in the course of our study of the Matthew Gospel. But out of this same being whose physical and etheric sheath had been prepared in accordance with the teaching of Matthew, out of the forty-two generations of the Hebrew people, there could not spring an astral garment or a bearer of the ego suited to that Sun-Being. For this, special arrangements were necessary, and these were carried out by means of another human being. This being we read of in the Gospel of Luke, where the writer of that Gospel describes the early years of the so-called Nathan Jesus. There we read of how the two became one. This mystery occurred when the ego-entity, forsaking the body of the twelve-year-old Jesus of whom the writer of the Gospel of Matthew tells, namely, the Zarathustra individuality, passed into the Nathan Jesus of the Gospel of Luke. In this body he continued to dwell, carrying on in it the further development of those qualities acquired through his having assumed the physical and etheric sheaths of the Jesus of the Gospel of Matthew. In this body his higher principles ripened, until in his thirtieth year they were ready for the reception of the mighty Being who descended into them from higher worlds. When seeking to describe the whole course of these events as related in the Gospel of Matthew we should have to say The writer first directs his attention to answering the question: What kind of physical and etheric body could serve such a Being as the Christ for His life on earth? And because of what the writer had experienced he could answer: In order that a suitable physical and etheric body could be prepared it was necessary that they should pass through forty-two generations of the Hebrew people so that the attributes laid down in Abraham might be fully developed. He could then continue to answer the question further by telling us: Such a physical and etheric body could only provide a fitting instrument if the greatest individuality humanity had so far produced for the comprehension of the Christ—that is the Zarathustra individuality—made use of them up to his twelfth year, at which time he had to leave this body and enter another. This was the body of the Jesus of whom the writer of the Gospel of Luke tells. From this point, the writer of the Gospel of Matthew, turning from that to which he had given his attention at first, deals exclusively with the Jesus of whom we read in the Gospel of Luke, and follows the life of Zarathustra until his thirtieth year. The moment had then come, when the astral body and ego-bearer had been so far evolved by Zarathustra that he could sacrifice them to the mighty Being—the great Sun-spirit—who descended from spiritual spheres and took possession of them. This was the moment of the baptism by John in Jordan. If we recall once more the time when the earth was separated from the sun, and the beings whose supreme Leader is the Christ withdrew from the earth, we must say There were beings who let their influences spread gradually over the earth, just as the Christ, in the course of time, has allowed His influence to be felt on earth. But we must not forget something else, which is, that the nature of ancient Saturn as regards substantiality was relatively much simpler than that of the planetary bodies that arose later. It consisted of fire or warmth, there was neither air nor water there, neither was there light-ether. This light-ether came with the Sun-evolution. Then, when later this passed over into the Moon-evolution, the watery element appeared as a further densification, on one hand, and sound or tone-ether as a further refinement on the other. Solid substance was added to these during the evolution of the Earth; this condition arose as a further densification; life-ether being added at the same time as a further refinement. We have therefore on the earth—warmth, air or gaseous substance, water or fluid substance, and solids or earthly substance. Opposed to these as finer conditions we have light-ether, tone-ether, and life-ether, this last being the finest etheric condition known to us. Now with the departure of the Sun from the Earth, not only the material part of the Sun left but the spiritual part left also. It was only later, and by degrees, that this returned to the earth, and it did not return entirely. I spoke of this at Munich when lecturing on the Six Days of Creation, so I will only touch on it here. Of the higher etheric substances man is only aware of warmth and light-ether. What he perceives as ‘sound’ is but a reflection, a materialization, of the real tone that is in tone-ether. When tone-ether is spoken of we refer to the bearer of what is known as ‘The harmony of the spheres,’ and is only to be heard clairaudiently. The Sun certainly sends its light to the earth, in so far as this is physical, but a higher condition also lives in the Sun. People who know of these things do not speak in empty phrases when with Goethe they say:—
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30. Collected Essays on Philosophy, Science, Aesthetics and Psychology 1884–1901: Eduard von Hartmann His Teaching and its Significance
Tr. Automated Rudolf Steiner |
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Hartmann theoretically called for the German-Austrian alliance and the current constellation of European states long before they actually materialized. The party formations that we have seen emerge in Germany in the second half of the past decade were previously presented by Hartmann as a necessity. |
30. Collected Essays on Philosophy, Science, Aesthetics and Psychology 1884–1901: Eduard von Hartmann His Teaching and its Significance
Tr. Automated Rudolf Steiner |
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According to an oft-repeated saying, it is incumbent on the philosopher to express the cultural content of his time in the form of pure thought. Just as the artist endeavors to express in a sensual, descriptive form the ideas, feelings and other contents of life that are present in the depths of the popular and contemporary consciousness, so the philosopher seeks to represent in a conceptual, thinking way the totality of everything that dominates and animates his time and his people. Kuno Fischer says in his witty work "History of Modern Philosophy": "If we want to compare a cultural system or an age with a pictorial pillar, then philosophy forms the sensing eye that looks inwards," Without this living reference to the age, without the urge to recognize that, without the urge to penetrate with calm clarity what takes place in life amidst to and fro struggles and in the restlessness of the day, in order to have a stimulating effect on it, the philosopher cannot escape the fate of leading a worthless existence on his lonely heights. Few renowned philosophers have approached their task in the manner just described as brilliantly as our great contemporary Eduard von Hartmann. While on the one hand we see him wrestling with the deepest mysteries of world-building and the riddles of life, on the other hand he does not disdain to deal thoroughly with the pending questions of the day, with the aspirations of the parties and the interests of the state. The socio-political currents of the present, the errors of the liberal partisans, military and church policy issues, school and academic reform, national and democratic ideas occupied his interest no less than modern artistic endeavors, the women's question, and the literary events of our time. Indeed, he also spoke out openly and unreservedly on sensitive issues such as spiritualism, hypnotism and somnambulism; and when the Polish question came on the agenda in Germany, he was the first to write in favor of the solution that Bismarck later advocated as the right one. And yet, like so many philosophers, he did not intervene in the dispute of opinions with a preconceived template, but was always guided by the reasons that lay in the facts and emerged from a thorough study of the facts. To judge how Hartmann draws from the fullness of an almost immeasurable knowledge, what sum of knowledge he possesses, one must have had the good fortune to have met him personally. However, in the course of this essay we will show that this kind of work is only a consequence of his scientific conviction. The consequence of this phenomenon, which is rare in the history of intellectual life, is also a quite incredible effect. E.v. Hartmann is now forty-nine years old, at the peak of his creative power and enthusiasm, still promising much (his first appearance was in 1868), and we already have a literature about him that is unmissable. The significance of a man is reflected differently in the consciousness of his contemporaries, and differently in that of posterity. The former can hardly find the right standard of judgment. The future historian of intellectual life in Germany in the second half of the nineteenth century will have to devote a large chapter to Hartmann. We will first characterize the historical position of Hartmann's circle of ideas and then go into the individual main areas of his activity. In the sixties of this century, German philosophy had reached a precarious point in its development. The confidence with which Hegel's students had appeared after the master's death (1830) had given way to complete discouragement in the field of this science. Starting from Hegel, they had hoped to spread a net of absolutely certain knowledge over all branches of knowledge, but the Hegelians were soon no longer able to deal with the abundance of the gradually accumulating material of actual results of research. They abandoned their doctrinal edifice piece by piece, tried to improve it here and there and to adapt the traditional doctrine to the new situation of empirical science. Most of them, however, tried to free themselves completely from the beliefs of their youth and, like the aesthetician Vischer, for example, regarded their Hegelian period only as a time for training their philosophical thinking. Complete confusion and perplexity prevailed in the cathedrals. While one group of professional philosophers gave up any prospect of success in the development of a world view for the time being and merely turned to the treatment of special questions, another group shifted to a rather unfruitful further development of Herbart's way of thinking, which had become stuck in antediluvian prejudices. The representatives of empirical science, however, looked down with contempt on all philosophy, which, in their opinion, only dealt with worthless fantasy. Finally, the great mass of educated people satisfied their philosophical needs from the world view of a thinker who had hitherto remained almost unnoticed and was in fact almost useless for a serious, thorough pursuit of science: Schopenhauer. The bad experiences that Schopenhauer had with his first work, the only one of his that was of any great significance for science: "On the Fourfold Root of the Theorem of the Ground", led him to take ever more precarious paths. He now turned personal views and subjective experiences into philosophical propositions and, in "Parerga and Paralipomena", completely sacrificed the truth to an ingenious style that captivated the audience. His explanations were gripped with greed because it was easy to obtain the phrases necessary for daily use from his writings, which offered nothing but philosophical trivialities in the appropriate form. This was the state of philosophy when Hartmann came on the scene (1868). He did so with the indispensable self-confidence in the weapons of his thinking and in full possession of the knowledge of the individual sciences available at his time. He recognized that neither everything from Hegel could be accepted nor everything rejected. He peeled the lasting core of Hegel's world view out of its harmful shell and began to develop it further. He completely separated the method from the results of Hegel's philosophy and declared that the good in Hegel was found without, indeed against, his method, and that what the latter alone provided was of dubious value. In his view, the method needed a thorough reform. And it was here that he entered into an alliance with natural science. The demand to seek scientific results only by means of observation, which natural scientists were increasingly insisting on, also became his own in the philosophical field. "Metaphysical results according to the scientific-inductive method" became the motto of his main work "Philosophy of the Unconscious", published in Berlin in 1869. But he held the view that Hegel had also arrived at his truly valuable results using the same method, indeed that positive scientific propositions can only be arrived at in this way. Hartmann's strict consistency, however, prevented him from using this method to arrive at the one-sided views that characterize the natural sciences of the time. How can one claim that observation delivers nothing but what the senses perceive, what eyes see, ears hear and so on, he asked himself? Is not thinking an organ of perception that transcends all the senses? Should reality exhaust itself in the raw material? Open your senses to reality, but do no less with your rational thinking, he called out to the natural scientists, then you will find that there is a higher reality than the one you consider to be the only true one! Hegel was no less thirsty for reality than a modern natural scientist, but his higher mind also revealed a higher reality to him. E. v. Hartmann also found himself in this position. He took the view that not everything we encounter in the world can be explained by causes that we perceive with our senses. Even when we see a stone fall to earth, we attribute the cause to the gravitational pull of the earth, which we can no longer perceive, but only grasp in our minds. And only when we follow an organism in its development from the egg to its completion! Who would want to satisfy his need for explanation without resorting to the view that forces are at work here which we can only visualize in our thoughts? It becomes clear to us from such a consideration of the organism that we must presuppose a unified mental basis if we want to satisfy our need for knowledge. We must add something to the perception in thought and out of thought if we want to understand the matter. What we add there can of course only be a thought, an idea. But just as we need an idea in our thinking in order to bring about the conception of an organism, for example, so there must also be something analogous in the thing itself that brings about the same thing in its reality. Hartmann calls the analog in reality, which corresponds to the idea in our consciousness, the unconscious idea. However, this concept of the idea is not so very different from what Hegel calls the idea. Hartmann asserts nothing other than this: what works outside in the world as the cause of things and processes is expressed within our consciousness in the form of the idea. Thus he must regard the content of our world of ideas as that which lifts the veil of existence for us, insofar as the latter is possible for us at all. And Hegel says: grasp the world of ideas in your consciousness, then you have grasped the objective content of the world. So far there would now be complete agreement between the two thinkers. Whereas But whereas Hegel simply seeks out the world of ideas within us and thereby accepts their inner logical character as decisive, Hartmann says: the idea as logical, merely as it is in us, in thought, could at most again cause ideas in a logical way, but not bring forth things of reality. For this there must be a second element, a force, something utterly illogical. Of this second element of the highest reality I can, of course, only recognize the representative that it sends into my consciousness. But if I ask myself, what is the power in me that actually accomplishes that, that makes it a reality, what determines logic, then I find my will. Something analogous to this must also prevail in the external world in order to lend reality, saturated existence, to the otherwise powerless ideas. Hartmann calls this analog the unconscious will. However, unconscious idea and unconscious will together form the unconscious mind or the unconscious. Hartmann does not claim that the unconscious idea or the unconscious will are present in the outside world in the same quality as their conscious representatives in our mind. Rather, he maintains that we know nothing about the quality of what corresponds to the idea and the will in the objective, but that for us only one thing is certain, that such analogs exist.1 Through the latter assumption, through the unconscious will, Hartmann now essentially goes beyond Hegel. If the latter, according to his basic assumption, had to regard logical determinacy as the only thing that comes into consideration in the idea, and see the highest laws of the world in logical laws, then Hartmann claims that everything we become aware of in the world is the ideal realized by the will. Since the will is, of course, a force that knows nothing of the laws of logic, the laws of the world are not logical laws either. So if I merely look into myself and observe my world of ideas in their logical connections, I will not reach any goal. I must look out and investigate through observation what creatures the will spouts forth from the eternal source of being. What I observe there, what I ultimately gain as a result, is an idea, but an idea borrowed from reality. Hartmann reproached the natural scientists for simply not having the ability to observe ideas and therefore stopping at mere sensory perception. The natural scientists, however, dismissed the philosopher by declaring his "Philosophy of the Unconscious" to be the work of a fantasist who wanted to discuss scientific questions in a completely amateurish manner. Soon after the "Philosophy of the Unconscious", a series of counter-writings from a scientific point of view appeared, including one by an anonymous author. The natural scientists declared it to be a very meritorious booklet, which refuted Hartmann's frivolous statements from the standpoint of true empirical science with genuine expertise. The book went through a second edition, but now the author put his full name on the title page. It was - Eduard von Hartmann. The philosopher had had the fun of thoroughly demonstrating to his opponents that one can already understand them if one only wants to stand down on their point of view. He succeeded brilliantly in showing who contradicts because they don't understand their opponent. The success of the "Philosophy of the Unconscious" was the greatest imaginable. To date, ten editions have been published and translations have been made into all European cultural languages. Encouraged by this, Hartmann devoted all his energy to expanding his world view. He sought not only to illuminate the ever-increasing experience of natural science from the point of view of his philosophy,2. Hartmann's ethical views can mainly be found in his book "Phenomenology of Moral Consciousness". His basic views in the field of ethics are also reflected in his position on politics and the cultural issues of the day. The unconscious idea is realized through the unconscious will. This is the essence of the world process. And the histotic process of development is only a part of this process. But as such it is again a whole, and the individual cultural systems and moral views of peoples and ages are only its parts. He who recognizes this cannot seek the purpose of his existence in a single act, but only in the value which his particular existence has for the cultural process of the whole of humanity and indirectly thereby for the whole course of the world. Only in selfless devotion to the whole, in being absorbed in humanity, can the individual find his salvation. In addition to this insight, Hartmann seeks to provide empirical proof that no pleasure in the world can grant us an unrestricted feeling of happiness. Wherever we may look, if we become attached to individual, temporary things, the deprivation will be greater than the satisfaction. We must imbue ourselves with this conviction and then dedicate ourselves all the more joyfully to the ideal life task described above. If you want to call this ethical view pessimism, then you may do so. But beware of confusing this Hartmannian view with Schopenhauer's pessimism. The latter is convinced that the will in its lack of reason is the only world principle and that the idea has no objective meaning at all, but is merely a "brain product". He therefore finds the world unreasonable and bad. A realization through the irrational will could only produce a worthless existence. There would be nothing worth living for in the world. Since we can achieve nothing in such a world, non-action is preferable to action for human beings. As you can see, Schopenhauer's ethics ends with the recommendation of complete inaction. Compare this with Hartmann's ethics and you will see that it leads to a completely opposite result, that it seeks satisfaction precisely in selfless, devoted action, which selfish enjoyment could never offer us. The fact that both world views are nevertheless constantly thrown together, despite repeated protests on the part of E. v. Hartmann, proves the power that slogans have even over the educated public. But where should we take the principles for our respective actions from, asks Hartmann. We work most effectively when we grasp our task most correctly in the place where history has placed us. What is good today was not good in the Middle Ages and will not be good centuries later. What a man has to do must result from what his predecessor has done. This is where he must pick up the thread and develop it further. Only those who know their tasks for the present from the past, from historical development, can create something good. We must not enter the arena of action with abstract, template-like concepts, but equipped with knowledge of the true needs of actual reality. Because the liberal parties want to rule the world from the outside, from theory, disregarding these needs, Hartmann is an opponent of them. He wants party principles that follow from the study of reality. He is conservative in the sense that he wants reform efforts everywhere to be linked to what already exists, but not at all in the way of many conservatives who would like to put all kinds of restraints on development or preferably even order it to stand still. Hartmann wants progress, but not in the way that liberalism sees it, but as a continuous approach to the great cultural goals of mankind. For him, each cultural epoch is only the preparation for the next. No branch of culture is excluded from this development. Hartmann has explained how religious needs are also subject to this general law in his two works: "Die Selbstzersetzung des Christentums und die Religion der Zukunft" and "Das religiöse Bewußtsein der Menschheit im Stufengang seiner Entwicklung". We are living in a time in which the old religious forms have become rotten everywhere and must make way for new ones. Christianity is not an absolute religion, but only one phase in the religious development of mankind, and there are already enough signs of the new view that will replace it. It would be a serious prejudice to believe that Hartmann's philosophical discussions are worthless for practical life. I would just like to point out a few things that could refute this. Hartmann theoretically called for the German-Austrian alliance and the current constellation of European states long before they actually materialized. The party formations that we have seen emerge in Germany in the second half of the past decade were previously presented by Hartmann as a necessity. We have already mentioned the Polish question. We must not forget that our philosopher is far from claiming that what he describes as necessary in this way is also the best. To demand the best is, in his view, an empty demand; one must see what can arise according to the motives at work in people and in time and offer one's hand to this. Hartmann is a real politician in the most eminent sense. For some time now, people in German-Austria have not spoken well of Hartmann because in an essay in 1885 he spoke of a "regression of Germanism in the Austrian lands". If one were to examine the content of this essay closely, one would probably come to a different conclusion. For apart from a few remarks which make the situation of our fellow tribesmen appear sadder than it really is, and which must be set against the fact that Hartmann must have gained his knowledge in part from newspaper reports and brochures which falsify the matter, one will find in that essay only the views represented which today the most national Austrian politicians have written on their banner. Hartmann explained to the Germans in Austria that they must sink below the level of influence they deserve if they continue to lose sight of the real tasks of their nation and the Reich over liberal party programs. In his view, they must rely on the power of the people and their higher education in order to achieve what they can never achieve by making pacts with "immature nations" and through liberal phrases, namely to steer "the state of Western Austria". To accuse Hartmann of even the slightest anti-German sentiment because of this essay is unacceptable when you consider how deeply his entire world view is rooted in Germanness and how he honors this Germanness when he says, for example, that the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War "has shown so clearly that Germany will essentially have to forever renounce being understood by anything other than German blood". The significance of Hartmann's view of the political situation will only be fully appreciated when one of his main ideas - the "complete separation of all political parties from economic and religious-church parties" - has been realized and when the Central European Customs Union he called for in 1881 becomes possible. It will then be seen that Hartmann's views are nothing but the moral, political, religious, economic, etc. forces of the. of the present. He tries to eavesdrop on the direction in which they are striving, and according to this direction he tries to show the way for practical reforms. Recently, Hartmann gave us a two-volume "Aesthetics". The first volume seeks to give a historical account of the development of German art history since Kant; the second endeavors to build its own independent edifice of the "science of beauty". In the first part, we admire the all-round approach, which deals with every phenomenon and provides not only a historical development of the basic views of the individual aestheticians, but also an account of the progress of the individual basic aesthetic concepts, such as: beautiful, ugly, comic, sublime, graceful and so on. The fact that the often misunderstood Deutinger and the completely lost but highly significant Trahndorff find their just appreciation in the book is not one of its least merits. Anyone who wants to learn in detail how views on art have developed from Kant up to the present day must turn to this book. In the "Science of Beauty" Hartmann, true to his principle, seeks to find that area in what actually exists in which beauty, that which is created by art, has its seat. He rejects the abstract idealism of the Schellingians, who seek beauty not in the object of art itself but in an abstract sphere and claim that every single beauty is only a reflection of the supernatural idea of beauty that never appears in its perfection. Hartmann counters this "abstract idealism" with his "concrete idealism", which seeks the reason and the root in the aesthetic object itself, in short, which also applies the observing, contemplating, not the constructing method here. What is actually the object in which the "beautiful" is realized? asks Hartmann. Neither merely the real work that we have before us, as the realists want, nor merely the harmony of feelings and sensations that it produces in us, as the idealists want, are the seat of beauty, but the appearance of reality, for the production of which the real product serves the artist only as a means. Anyone who is unable to disregard the real effects exerted on him by the art product and can only indulge in the impression of the "aesthetic appearance" detached from all reality is not yet capable of true enjoyment of art. A person who commits a crime in reality creates a real feeling of revulsion in us through his actual deed. He affects us through what he is. The actor who portrays the criminal only has the right effect on us if, denying his real being, he only arouses feelings and emotions in us through what he appears to be, through his representation, which is exhausted in appearance and behind which there is no reality. "Whoever has not yet stripped away the last trace of realistic velleities from aesthetic appearance and the content hidden in it has not yet penetrated to a purely aesthetic conception, but has more or less remained stuck in an amalgamation of aesthetic with theoretical or practical conception." (Wissenschaft des Schönen, p.21.) Only those who are able to emancipate themselves completely from the real meaning of the object in front of them and devote themselves only to the enjoyment of what it seems to be are capable of aesthetic contemplation. And now Hartmann shows us just as much how the appearance detached from reality expresses itself in individual forms of artistic creation, in the sensually pleasing, in mathematical relationships, in organic formations and so on, as he also shows us how the individual arts can evoke the "aesthetic appearance" with the means at their disposal. We ourselves have published an essay in these journals that takes as its starting point basic views that do not entirely coincide with Hartmann's. In particular, we believe that aesthetics should not neglect to say what it is in "aesthetic appearance" that actually has an effect on us. It is just as certain that he who is influenced in his aesthetic contemplation "by accidental knowledge of the private life of the actor Schultze and the dancer Müller in the judgment of their mimic artistic performances" does not arrive at the true enjoyment of art, as it is true that I must remain aesthetically unaffected even in the pure contemplation of appearances if I have no feeling for what speaks to me precisely through the aesthetic appearance. Certainly, the artist can only have an effect on me through appearance, but it is not the character of the appearance that constitutes the nature of the work of art, but the content in the appearance, that which the artist embodies in the appearance. Whoever has only a sense for appearance and none for what is expressed in appearance remains insensitive to art. Appearance is only necessary because art has something to tell us that cannot be said to us by immediate reality. It is a necessary auxiliary to art, a consequence of artistic creation, but it does not constitute the latter. These are objections of principle, however, and we would be unjust if we did not counter them with the fact that we have rarely read a book with such satisfaction, with such great benefit, as Hartmann's Aesthetics. Everyone can learn from it through the thorough knowledge of technique in the individual arts that characterizes the author, through the views on life that testify to Hartmann's genius and the great style with which he grasps the sum of all cultural expressions, and finally through the fine taste that underpins all his judgments on art. We are rarely as pleased as when we read the announcement of a new work by Hartmann, because then we always know that a great treasure is being added to our minds. And we wish time good luck for everything that will come from Hartmann, because, as we have already mentioned, he is at the height of his creative powers. He has almost completed his system. We do not know what area his work will now focus on. But we do know this: everything we can still expect from him will have the character of greatness and significance.
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89. Awareness—Life—Form: Theosophical Cosmology I
26 May 1904, Berlin Tr. Anna R. Meuss Rudolf Steiner |
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How does a solar system evolve, and the planets and constellations? How did the Earth evolve, what stages has it gone through and what would still lie before it? |
89. Awareness—Life—Form: Theosophical Cosmology I
26 May 1904, Berlin Tr. Anna R. Meuss Rudolf Steiner |
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The course of lectures on the basic elements of theosophy which I announced some time ago will have to come later, at a time when numbers will perhaps be greater.15 I have put off the date for those lectures and decided to use the next few Thursdays to develop some aspects of cosmology, or world evolution, that is, the teaching in theosophical terms on the origins of the world and the creation of man within this world. I am, of course, well aware that I am proposing to deal with one of the most difficult chapters in theosophical teaching, and it is probably right to tell you that in some lodges the decision has been made not to treat the subject for the time being, as it is too difficult. I have nevertheless decided to do it, for I believe that with the indications I am able to give, this will be useful to some of you. We may not be able to go into the whole of such a difficult subject immediately, but it should be possible to give encouragement, so that at a later time we may enter more deeply into the matter. Those of you who have been in the theosophical movement for some time will know that questions as to how the world did actually come into existence, and how it has gradually evolved up to the present time when entities such as ourselves are able to inhabit it, have been the very first to be considered in the theosophical movement. Not only did one of the first books which drew the western world’s attention to ancient views of the world, H. P. Blavatsky’s Isis Unveiled,16 deal with such questions of the origin and evolution of the world, but the book to which we are probably indebted for the greatest number of our adherents, Sinnett’s Esoteric Buddhism,17 has done the same. How does a solar system evolve, and the planets and constellations? How did the Earth evolve, what stages has it gone through and what would still lie before it? These questions are considered in full in Esoteric Buddhism. Then Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine appeared in the late ’80s, and in the first volume she, too, considered the question as to how the human race developed in Earth evolution. Now I need just refer to a single point to show the whole problem. If you open volume 1 of Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine you will find that some of the statements made in Sinnett’s Buddhism are said to be erroneous and are in part corrected by her.18 The theosophical writers had partly misunderstood these things and partly presented them in a way that led to misunderstanding. Mrs Blavatsky therefore had to put them right. She said that a kind of Babylonian confusion of tongues had arisen with regard to theosophical cosmology,19 and that leading figures [in the Theosophical Society] certainly were not immediately well informed on these matters. You all know that the contents of the Secret Doctrine were given by great, sublime masters who were far ahead of our average level of development. Before it was published, a book had appeared in which Sinnett, author of Esoteric Buddhism, published a number of letters by a mahatma.20 We can thus see the problems which arise with understanding this secret doctrine, and we can understand that people who, like Sinnett and Blavatsky, were endeavouring to receive those doctrines were literally sighing, as it was so difficult to understand the doctrines that were given to them. ‘Oh,’ one teacher said, ‘being used to grasp things with a different set of mind, you cannot understand what we have to say, however much you endeavour to gain understanding of it.’ If we consider these words, the problems will be evident. Views that could be misunderstood arose wherever people spoke of cosmology.21 This is therefore well established, and I hope I may ask your forbearance as I try to say something on this doctrine. Let me say something to begin with that will clarify the relationship of theosophical cosmology to modem science and its methods. Someone might come and say: ‘Consider the advances made by astronomers; we owe this to the telescopes, to the mathematical and photographic methods which have given us knowledge of distant stars.’ Modern science with its careful methods appears—in the opinion of scientists—to have the one and only right to establish anything about the evolution of the cosmic system. It appears that in modern science it is acceptable to disapprove of anything others say about the evolution and origin of the cosmic system. Many an astronomer will object: ‘What you theosophists are telling us about cosmology are ancient doctrines taught by the Chaldeans or Vedic priests and part of the oldest wisdom known to humanity; but what significance can anything said millennia ago have, since the teaching of astronomy has only gained reasonable certainty since Copernicus?’ It merely seems, therefore, that the contents of the first volume of Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine confounds the things astronomers armed with telescopes and so on explain to us. But a theosophist need not be in conflict with anything an astronomer says. There is no need for this, though there are theosophists who believe they must fight against modem astronomy in order to make room for their own doctrines. I know only too well that leading figures in the theosophical movement think themselves able to teach the astronomers. A simple example may serve to demonstrate the standpoint some theosophists take against astronomers. Take a poet whose works give pleasure and edification. Perhaps someone else will be his biographer and will try to make the soul and spirit which lives in the poet understandable and explain it. There is also another way of looking at a person, and that is the physiological or scientific way. Let us assume a scientist studies the poet. He will of course only consider the physiological and physiognomic aspects which are of interest to him. He will tell us about anything he is able to see in the poet and combine with his scientific thinking. As theosophists we would say the scientist is describing and explaining the poet from the standpoint of the physical plane. The scientist won’t say a single word, however, about the poet’s biography, as we call it, or about his soul and spirit. We thus have two approaches that run side by side, though they need not collide. Why shouldn’t there be a scientific study and parallel to it one which considers soul and spirit, with each valid in its own way? Neither is interfering with the other. The same applies to scientific cosmology, with the information astronomers give us on the cosmic edifice and the evolution of the cosmic system. They will tell us what can be accessible to the ordinary senses. At the same time, however, it is possible to consider the matter in terms of spirit and soul, and if we take the cosmic edifice in this way, we’ll never collide with astronomy; both ways of looking at things will sometimes substantiate one another, for they run side by side and are independent of one another. For instance, when the scientific physiology of the brain was still far from where it is today, people were already providing biographies of great minds. An astronomer cannot object, therefore, that the occult approach is out of date and impossible since Copernicus put astronomy on a different basis. The occult sources are completely different from this; they existed long before the eye was trained to study the heavens through telescopes, and before photography had reached the point where it was possible to photograph stars. Copernican science offers something very different from occult research; and the one power in the human soul is not at all dependent on the other. The power which gives us insight into the element of spirit and soul goes back such a long way that no historian is able to tell us where this way of looking at the cosmic edifice did have its beginnings. It is not possible to establish how the great minds came to develop these occult insights. Occult schools existed in Europe before the Theosophical Society was established in 1875. However, the knowledge we now present in popular form was then only shared within closed groups. The law not to let it go beyond these schools was strictly observed. People wanting to join such a school had to do serious work on themselves before the first truths were given to them. The view was that people had to make themselves ready before they could receive such truths. They had many degrees in those schools through which people would progress, degrees of trial; and when anyone was found to be unready they would have to continue to prepare themselves. If I were to describe the degrees to you, it would make you dizzy to think of the strictness that was applied. Matters concerning world evolution were considered to be among the most important and only taught at the highest levels. In the 17th century, which has had a great influence on civilization, this knowledge was in the hands of the Rosicrucian movement.22 Originally this had come from knowledge held in the East, and European followers were given it at many different levels. By the end of the 18th and above all the beginning of the 19th century, those occult schools vanished from Europe’s culture. The last of the Rosicrucians withdrew to the Orient. This was the age when humanity had to organize conditions of life according to external knowledge; the invention of the steam engine came then, and the scientific study of cells and so on. Occult wisdom had nothing to say to this, and the individuals who had reached the highest peak of that wisdom, people of the highest degree, withdrew to the Orient. Occult schools existed also after this, but they are of little interest to us; I must mention them, however, for Mrs Blavatsky and Mr Sinnett went to the source springs when they received their cosmological knowledge from Buddhist Tibetan occult schools. A long period of cultural development in Europe had brought the European brain, the European ability to think, so far that difficulties arose in grasping occult truths. These could only be grasped with difficulty. When this early knowledge of theosophical cosmology came to public awareness, partly through Esoteric Buddhism and partly through The Secret Doctrine, the followers of occult schools pricked up their ears,23 and it seemed wrong to them that the strict rule of not letting anything go outside their schools had been broken. The followers of the theosophical school knew, however, that it was necessary to make some of it known. Western science could not do anything with such knowledge, however, for no one was able to check the truth of what Mrs Blavatsky and Mr Sinnett had written. Above all people did not know what to do with the glorious cosmological song which consists of the Stanzas of Dzyan and was published at the beginning of Mrs Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine.24 The verses tell the history of the universe. Their authenticity was put in doubt; no scientist could do anything with them; initially they appeared to go against anything European scholars knew. There was one man, Max Müller, the orientalist, whom I respect most highly; he spoke energetically in favour of Oriental wisdom.25 Everything he could get hold of in this sphere was made accessible to Europeans by Max Mueller. But neither he nor other European academics knew what to do with the things Mrs Blavatsky made known. At the time people merely said anything said in Secret Doctrine was mere fantasy. The reason was that the academics had never found any of it in the Indian books. Mrs Blavatsky said that great riches of ancient literature were still to be found in the place from which her secrets had come, but that the most important thing about that wisdom had been kept from the eyes of European scholars. European thinking was such that even the little which it had been possible to tell could not be understood; commentaries were lacking that held the key to understanding. The books which showed how individual statements should be taken were in the safekeeping of native Tibetans who had received the teaching; at least that is what Mrs Blavatsky said. However, others who have reached advanced levels also said that this literature provides historical evidence that there was an original wisdom which in things of the spirit went far beyond anything people in the world know today. The Oriental sages say that this original wisdom exists in books which are in their safekeeping, and that it did not come to us from human beings like ourselves, but from divine sources. The Orientals speak of an original divine wisdom. Max Mueller said in a lecture to his students that following certain investigations it was impossible to maintain that there had been such original wisdom. Having heard Max Mueller’s opinion through Mrs Blavatsky, a great Brahmin Sanskrit scholar said: ‘Oh, if Max Mueller were a Brahmin and I were able to take him to a particular temple, he would be able to see for himself that there is such ancient divine wisdom.’26 The things Mrs Blavatsky presents in the Stanzas of Dzyan partly come from such hidden sources which she opened up. If she had invented those verses herself we would be looking at an even greater miracle. We do not, however, have to depend on getting the occult knowledge of world evolution from the old writings. Powers exist in the human being which enable him to perceive and explore the truths himself, if he develops these powers in the right way. Anything we are able to learn in this way agrees with the knowledge Mrs Blavatsky brought with her from the Far East. It emerges that in Europe, too, occultists preserved knowledge that was passed from teacher to pupils and was never entrusted to books. The occultists were therefore able to test the knowledge Mrs Blavatsky presented in her Secret Doctrine against their own knowledge, and above all against things they had gained out of their own powers. Someone trained in the European way can also check the information given in Mrs Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine. And it has been checked and confirmed,27 but it is nevertheless difficult for European occultists to cope with it. Let me say just one thing. European occult knowledge has been influenced in a quite specific way by Christian and cabbalistic elements which have given it a certain bias. If we ignore this, however, and go back to the basis of this knowledge, it is possible to have complete agreement with the knowledge which Mrs Blavatsky uncovered for us. Although it has been possible in a way to check the cosmology Mrs Blavatsky had brought for us, it is difficult to explain to scholars what we mean when we speak of the origin of the world, doing so from occult knowledge. It is, of course, remarkable what they achieve in deciphering ancient records, making great efforts to decipher Babylonian cuneiform writing and Egyptian hieroglyphs; but Max Mueller himself has said that nothing they have discovered from those records does as yet give them a picture of the history of the world’s origin. We see the scholars labouring on the shell, as it were, without penetrating to the kernel. This is not to say anything against the careful work and fine bits of detail the scholars have been labouring over. I would merely draw attention to the books published relating to the Bible and Babel dispute.28 All this is piecemeal; the scholars do not get beyond the shell. You feel they have no idea of the ways that take one to the key to these secrets. It is just like when someone begins to translate a book from another language into his own. Initially it is imperfect. That is how it is with the translation of ancient creation myths by today’s' scholars. They are shards of ancient wisdom taught from generation to generation in the mystery schools. Only people who had reached a certain degree of initiation could know something about it. I’ll come back to this again at the end of these lectures. It is the initiates, therefore, who are able to come to these things in their own experience. You will ask: ‘What is an initiate, actually? People often speak of ‘initiates’ in theosophy and occult societies.’ An initiate is someone who has developed powers that lie dormant in every human being and are capable of development,29 having done so to a high degree. The initiate has developed them to such a degree that he is able to understand the nature of those powers in the cosmos, in the cosmic edifice, which come into consideration for what I want to discuss with you. Well, you’ll say: ‘People always say that such powers lie dormant in the human being, but there’s no certainty of this.’ This is simply due to a misunderstanding. The mystic or occultist is not saying anything which any scholar may not also say in his field. Imagine someone tells you a mathematical truth. If you have never learned mathematics yourself, you will not have the knowledge to test this truth. No one would deny that one needs to have the necessary abilities before one can judge a mathematical truth. No authority can decide the issue, only the individual who has experienced it can judge it. In the same way only someone who has himself experienced, lived through an occult truth, can judge it. People of our time are, however, demanding that occultists should prove anything they have to say immediately and for any average level of understanding. They will quote the words: ‘Anything which is true must be capable of proof, and anyone should be able to understand it.’ Yet occultists say nothing else but what any other scholar would also say in his field, and they do not ask for more than any mathematician would also demand. We may ask why occult truths are being presented today. Until now, occult schools have followed the principle that the knowledge should not go beyond a small number of people. Those on the ‘right’ still follow the principle today.30 Yet anyone who has the experience and is able to read the signs of the times will know that this is no longer appropriate today. And this very fact, that it is no longer appropriate, has given rise to the theosophical world movement. Today, the rational mind is most highly developed. Associative thinking in conjunction with the senses has led to advances in industry and technology. This rational, intellectual thinking had its greatest triumphs in the 19th century. External intellectual thinking has never been as highly developed as it is today. 1 spoke of Oriental sages having original wisdom, and this was very different in form from our thinking today. Even the greatest masters among them did not have this acuity of logical thinking, this pure logicality; nor did they need it. Because of this it was also difficult to understand them. They had intuition, inner vision. True intuition does not come with logical or associative thinking; what happens is that a truth presents itself directly to the mind of the individual concerned. He will know it and there will be no need for proof. The teachers in the theosophical movement now have the right to present part of the occult wisdom. We have the right to express the wisdom which has been given to us in form of intuition, putting it in the thought forms of modern life. A thought is a power like electricity, a power like steam power, like heat energy; and the thoughts presented within the theosophical movement are power for anyone who takes them in, giving himself up to them and not meeting them with immediate distrust. Hearing them, one will not notice it immediately, for the seed will only germinate later. No theosophical teacher asks anything but that people should listen to him. He is not asking for blind faith, only that people should listen. Neither acceptance as a matter of belief nor unbelieving rejection are the right attitude. Listeners should merely think the thoughts through for themselves, leaving aside belief or doubt, yes or no. They need to be ‘neutral’ and let the teaching come alive in their minds just to ‘try it out’. If you let theosophical thoughts be alive in you in this way, you will not just have thoughts in you, but a spiritual energy will pour in, to be active in you and bear fruit. Western European civilization has developed thinking to such a high degree that people find it easiest to come to anything through thinking. Even the most faithful church-going Christians cannot now imagine the kind of faith people had in the past. That source spring of conviction has dried up. We have to make our thoughts fruitful in a very different way today. In the past, thinking was not widespread and spiritual knowledge could therefore only be presented in occult schools. Today we must turn to the power of thought with the things of the spirit; we then fire the thoughts so that they come alive in us. A spiritual speaker speaks to his listeners in a way that is very different from that of other speakers. He speaks in a way that makes a kind of spiritual atmosphere, spiritual powers, flow from him. Listeners should receive a thought without accepting or rejecting it, as something wholly objective, live with that thought, meditate on it and let it come alive in them. The thought will then generate energy or power in us. Today we must make the occult truths concerning the origin and evolution of the world known in form of European thoughts and the modern scientific approach. The lectures will thus concern the conditions that preceded the beginnings of our own world. We will go back to long-ago times when the entity evolved from the greyest twilit darkness which was later to become human. We will go back to the stage where this human being was received by earthly powers, surrounded with earthly matter, up to the point where we are today. We’ll get to know the pre-earthly and earthly evolution of our world edifice and see how theosophy opens up a prospect on the future. We will see the direction in which our world evolution is going to continue. All this will be shown without going against the ideas of modem astronomy. Awakening the powers that lie dormant in us we will ourselves perceive the great goal towards which we are moving—to gain cosmological wisdom. Let us consider this cosmological wisdom in the sessions that follow.
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323. Astronomy as Compared to Other Sciences: Lecture XII
12 Jan 1921, Stuttgart Tr. Unknown Rudolf Steiner |
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As you are well aware, to explain all the phenomena, Astronomy today must have recourse not only to the primary notion of a stationary Sun supposed to be at the focus of an ellipse along which the Earth is moving—but to a further movement, a movement of the Sun itself towards a certain constellation. If you imagine the direction of this movement and other relevant factors, then from the several movements of Sun and Earth, you may well be able to deduce a resultant path for the Earth, no longer coincident with the ellipse in which the Earth is said to be going round the Sun, but of a different form which need not be at all like the supposed ellipse. |
323. Astronomy as Compared to Other Sciences: Lecture XII
12 Jan 1921, Stuttgart Tr. Unknown Rudolf Steiner |
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I will begin today by pointing out that our studies hitherto have led us to a specific result. We have drawn attention on the one hand to the movements of the heavenly bodies, and, though it still remains for us to do it in more detail, we have at least gained some conception: Here are a number of cosmic bodies in movement, in a certain order and configuration. Meanwhile we have also been drawing attention to the form of man, and incidentally, from time to time, to the forms of animal and plant-nature; this we shall have to do still more, to gain the necessary supports from diverse realms. In the main however, it is the human form and figure we have contemplated, and in so doing we have divined that the formation of man is in some way related to what finds expression in the movement of celestial bodies. We want to formulate it with great care. Yesterday I showed that wheresoever we may look in the human body, we shall find the formative principle of the looped curve or Lemniscate, save for the two outermost polarities—the Radius and the Sphere. Thus in the human body we perceive three formative principles (Fig. 1): The Sphere, with its activity primarily going inward, the Radius, and between these the looped curve or Lemniscate. Truly to recognise these formative principles in the human organism, you must imagine the Lemniscate as such with variable constants, if I may use the paradox. Where a curve normally has constants in its equation, we must think variables. The variability is most in evidence in the middle portion of the human body. Take as a whole the structure of the pairs of ribs and the adjoining vertebrae. True as it is then that in the vertebra the one half of the Lemniscate is very much condensed and pressed together, whilst in the pair of ribs the other half is much extended and drawn apart (Fig. 2), we must not be put off my this. The underlying formative principle is the Lemniscate, none the less. We simply have to imagine that where the ribs are (the drawing indicated those that are joined in front via the sternum) the space is widened, matter being as it were extenuated, while, to make up for this, the matter is compressed and the space lessoned in the vertebra. Let us now follow the human form and figure upward and downward from this middle portion. Upward we find the vertebra as it were bulged out into a wide cavity (Fig. 3), while the remaining branches of the Lemniscate seem to vanish, nestling away, so to speak, in the internal formative process, becoming hidden and undefined. Going downward from the middle portion, we contemplate for instance the attachment of the lower limbs to the pelvis. In all that opens downward from this point, we find the other half of the loop fading away. We have therefore to contemplate a fundamental loop-curve, mobile and variable in itself. This dominates the middle part of man. Only, the formative forces of it must be so imagined that in the one half (Fig. 2) the material forces become, as it were, more attenuated and the loop widens, while in the other it contracts. Further we must imagine that from this middle region upward the portion of the Lemniscate which in the vertebra was drawn together, bulges and widens out, while the other, downward-opening portion vanishes and eludes us. On the other hand, as you go downward from the middle part of man, the closed loop grows minute and fades away, while those portions of the curve which disappear as you go towards the head, run out into the radial principle and are here prolonged. (Fig. 4) We should thus find our way into it, till we are able to see the only moving Lemniscate with perceptive insight. Also we think how the formative principle of the moving Lemniscate is combined with forces which are spheroidal on the one hand and on the other radial—radial with respect to the Earth's centre. We then have a system of forces which we may conceive as being fundamental to the form and figure, to the whole forming and configuration of the human body. (By the word “forces” I mean nothing hypothetical;—purely and simply what is made manifest in the forming of it.) Answering to this , in cosmic space, in the movement of celestial bodies, we also find a peculiar configuration,—configuration of movements. In yesterday's lecture, we recognised in the planetary loops the very same principle outside us which is the principle of form within us. Let us now follow this loop-forming principle in greater detail. Is it not interesting that Mercury and Venus make their loops when the planets are in inferior conjunction, i.e., when they are roughly between the Earth and the Sun? In other words, their loop occurs when what the Sun is for man—so to express it—is enhanced by Venus and Mercury. As against this, look for the loops of Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. These loops we find occurring when the planets are in opposition to the Sun. This contrast too, of oppositions and conjunctions, will in some way correspond to a contrast in the building forces of man. For Saturn, Jupiter and Mars, because their loops appear in opposition, the loops as loops will be most active and influential. Thinking along these lines, we shall indeed relate the loop-formation of Saturn, Jupiter and Mars to that in man which is little influenced by the Sun; for it takes place, once more, when the planet is in opposition. Whilst, inasmuch as Venus and Mercury form their loops when in conjunction, their loop-formation must in some way be related to what is brought about, amid the formative principles of man, by the Sun—or by what underlies the Sun. We shall therefore conceive the Sun's influence to be in some sense reinforced by Venus and Mercury, while it withdraws, as it were, in face of the superior planets, so-called. The latter, precisely during loop-formation, bring to expression something that bears directly, not indirectly, upon man. If we pursue this line of thought and bear in mind that there is the contrast between Radius and Sphere, then we need but recall the form that comes to manifestation in these movements, and we shall say: In Mays, Jupiter and Saturn the essential phase must be when they are forming their loops, that is to say, when, in a manner speaking, the sphere-forming process comes into evidence. Mars, Jupiter and Saturn (not to speak of further planets) will show their influence upon that element in man which is assigned to the sphere-forming process, namely the human head. In contrast to this—they are indeed the polar opposite—the movements of Venus and Mercury will somehow find expression in what in man too is the opposite pole, opposite to the forming of the head,—i.e., what abandons parallelism with the spherical formation and becomes parallel to the radial. Where the one part of the Lemniscate becomes minute and the other grows into the limbs, into a purely radial development, we have to look for the relation to Venus and Mercury. This in turn will lead us on to say: In the superior planets, which make their loop when in opposition, it is the loop that matters; they develop their intensity while they form the loop. Whilst in the inferior planets Venus and Mercury—it is essential that they wield their influence by virtue of what is not the loop,—i.e., in contrast to the loop, by the remainder of the planet's path. Think of a Lemniscate like this (Fig. 5), say in the case of Venus (I draw it diagrammatically). You will understand it if you imagine this part (dotted line) ever less in evidence, the farther you go downward. That is to say, whilst in the path of Venus it closes, in its effects it no longer does so, but, as it were, runs out into parabolic branches, answering precisely to what happens in the human limb, where the vertebra form fades away and loses character (to put it very briefly, omitting details). This loop of the Lemniscate is represented by the path's fading away, not being fully maintained; it only indicates the direction but cannot hold it. So, where it closes in the path of Venus in the Heavens, in man's formation it falls asunder. Thus, to sum up, the building principle of the human form, howsoever modified, is based on this; the metamorphosis emerges between head and limbs—the limbs with the metabolism which belongs to them—and in the great Universe this answers to the contrast between those planets that form them in opposition to the Sun. Between the two is then the Sun itself. Now, my dear friends, something quite definite results from this Namely, we see that also with respect to the qualitative effects we have just referred to, we have to recognise in the Sun's path, even as to its form, something midway between what we find in the forms movement of the superior and of the inferior planets respectively. We must therefore assign, what finds expression in the path and movement of the Sun, to all that in man which is midway between the forming of the head and the metabolism, In other words, we must attribute to the rhythmic system some relation to the path of the Sun. We therefore have to imagine a certain contrast between the paths of the superior and of the inferior planets; and in the Sun's path a quality midway between the two. There is now a very evident and significant fact, regarding both the Sun's path and the Moon's. Follow the movements of the two heavenly bodies; neither of them makes any loop. They have no loop. Somehow therefore we must contrast the relation to man, and to Earth nature generally, of Sun and Moon on the one hand and of the loop-forming planetary paths on the other. The planetary paths with their characteristic loops quite evidently correspond to what makes vortices and vertebrae,—to what is lemniscatory in man. Look simply at the human form and figure and think of its relation to the Earth; we can do no other than connect what is radial in human form and stature with the path of the Sun, even as we connect what is lemniscatory in form with the typical planetary path. You see then what emerges when we are able to relate to the starry Heavens the entire human being, not only the human organ of cognition. This in effect emerges: In the vertical axis of man we must in some way seek what answers to the Sun's path, whilst in all that is lemniscatory in arrangement we have to seek what answers to the planetary paths,—lemniscatory as they are too, though in a variable form. Important truths will follow from this, We must conceive, once more, that through his vertical axis man is related to the Sun's path. HOW then shall we think of the other path which also shows no loops, namely the Moon's? Quite naturally—you need only look with open mind at the corresponding forms on Earth—we shall be led to the line of which we spoke some days ago, the line that runs along the spine of the animal. There we must seek what answers to the Moon's path. And in this very fact—the correspondence of the human spinal axis to the Sun's path and of the animal spinal axis to the moon's _ we shall have to look for the essential morphological difference between man and animal. Precisely therefore when we are wanting to discover what is essential in the difference of man and animal, we cannot stay on Earth. A mere comparative morphology will not avail us, for we must first assign what we there find to the entire Universe. Hence too we shall derive some indication of what must be the relative position of the Sun's path and the Moon's—shall we say, what is their mutual situation, to begin with, in perspective (for here again we must express it with great caution). They must be so situated that the one path is approximately perpendicular to the other. The human vertical therefore—or, had we better say, what answers to the main line and direction of the spine in man—is related to the Sun's path. The rational morphology we are pursuing makes this coordination evident. Mindful of this, we must surely relate the Sun's path itself to what in some way coincides with the Earth's radius. Admittedly, the Earth may move in such a way that many of her radii in turn coincide with the Sun's path. The relation indicated will need defining more precisely in coming lectures. Yet this at least gives us a notion of it: the direction of the Sun's path must be radial in relation to the surface or the Earth. We have no other alternative. In no event can the Earth be revolving round the Sun. What has been calculated—quite properly and conscientiously, of course—to be the revolution of the Earth around the Sun must therefore be a resultant of some other kind of movements. To this conclusion we are driven. The many relevant details as regards human form and growth are so very complicated that in this brief lecture-course not everything can be gone into. But if you really concentrate upon the morphological descriptions given (though they are only bare indications of a qualitative morphology), you will be able to read it in the human form itself: The Earth is following the Sun! The Sun speeds on ahead, the Earth comes after. This then must be the essence of the matter: the earthly and the solar orbit in some way coincide, and the Earth somehow follows the Sun, making it possible as the Earth rotates for the Earth's radii to fall into the solar path, or at the very least to be in a certain relation to it. Now you may very naturally retort that all this is inconsistent with the accepted Astronomy. But it is not so,—it really isn't! As you are well aware, to explain all the phenomena, Astronomy today must have recourse not only to the primary notion of a stationary Sun supposed to be at the focus of an ellipse along which the Earth is moving—but to a further movement, a movement of the Sun itself towards a certain constellation. If you imagine the direction of this movement and other relevant factors, then from the several movements of Sun and Earth, you may well be able to deduce a resultant path for the Earth, no longer coincident with the ellipse in which the Earth is said to be going round the Sun, but of a different form which need not be at all like the supposed ellipse. All these things I am gradually leading up to; for the moment I only wish to point out that you need not think what I am telling you so very revolutionary as against orthodox Astronomy. Far more important is the method of our study,—to bring the human form and figure into the system of the starry movements. My purpose here is not to propound some astronomical revolution, nor is it called for. Look, for example: say this or something like it (Fig. 6) is the Earth's movement, and the Sun too is moving, You can well imagine, if the Earth is following the Sun in movement, it is not absolutely necessary for the Earth always to be running past the Sun tangentially. It may well be that the Sun has already gone along the same path and that the Earth always to be running past the Sun tangentially. It may well be that the Sun has already gone along the same path and that the Earth is following, Nay, it is possible, envisaging the hypothetical velocity that has been calculated for the Sun's proper movement, you may work out a very neat arithmetical result. Work out the resultant of the assumed Earth-movement and the assumed Sun-movement; you may well get a resultant movement compatible with present-day Astronomy,—velocity and all. Let me then emphasise once more: What I am here propounding is not unrelated to present-day Astronomy, nor do I mean it not be. Quite on the contrary, it is related to it more thoroughly and deeply than theories which are so frequently presented, nicely worked out in theoretic garb, selecting certain movements and omitting others. I am not therefore instigating an astronomical revolution in these lectures; let me say this again to prevent fairy-tales arising. What I intend is to co-ordinate the human form—inward and outward form, figure and formation—with the movements of the heavenly bodies, nay, with the very system of the Cosmos. For the rest, may I call your attention to this: It is not so simple to bring together in thought our astronomical observations of the heavenly bodies and the accepted constructions of the orbits. For as you know from Kepler's Second Law, an essential feature, on which the forms of the orbits depend, are the radius-vectors,—their velocity above all. The whole form of the path depends on the functionality of the radius vectors. If this be so, does it not also reflect upon the forms of the paths which actually confront us? May it not be that we are cherishing illusions after all, at the mere outward aspect of them? It is quite possible: What we here calculate from the velocity and length of the radius vectors might not be primary magnitudes at all. They might themselves be only the resultants of the true primary magnitudes. If so, then the seeming picture which emerges must refer back to another and more deeply hidden. This too is not so far afield as you might think. Suppose that in the sense of present-day Astronomy you wished to calculate the Sun's exact position at a given time of day and on a given date. Then it will not suffice you to take your start from the simple proposition, 'the Earth moves round the Sun'. People have thought it strange that in the ancient Astronomy (that of the Mysteries, not the exoteric version) they spoke of three Suns instead of one. So they distinguished three Suns. I must confess, I do not find it so very striking. Modern Astronomy too has its three Suns. There is the Sun whose path is calculated as the apparent counterpart of the Earth's movement round the Sun. This Sun occurs, does it not , in modern Astronomy? The path of it is calculated. Astronomy then has another Sun—an imagined one of course—with the help of which certain discrepancies are corrected. And then it has a third Sun, with the help of which it re-corrects discrepancies that persist after the first correction. Modern Astronomy too therefore distinguishes three: the real Sun and two imagined ones. It needs the three, for what is calculated to begin with does not accord with the Sun's actual position. It is always necessary to apply corrections. This alone should be enough to show you that we should not build too confidently on mere calculation. Other means are needed to arrive at adequate conceptions of the starry movements; others than the science of our time derives from sundry premises of calculation. The broad ideas of planetary paths we have been laying out, it I may put it so, call now for great definition. Yet we shall only come to this if we contrive first to go further in out study of Earth-nature, to see their mutual relation in a certain aspect. The Kingdoms of Nature are commonly thought of in a straight line: mineral kingdom, plant kingdom, animal kingdom, and I will add, human kingdom. (Some authorities would not admit the fourth, but that need not detain us.) The question now is: Is this arrangement sensible at all? Undoubtedly it is implicit in many of our modern lines of thought; at least it was so in the golden age of the mechanical outlook upon Nature. Today I know, in these wider realms of Science, there is a certain atmosphere of resignation, not to say despair. The habits of mind however remain the same as at their heyday, 20 or 30 years since. The scientists of that time would have been content, had they been able to follow up this series—mineral kingdom, plant kingdom, animal kingdom, man,—with the mineral kingdom as the amplest, deriving therefrom, by some combination of mineral structure, the structure of the plant, then by a further combination of plant structure the structure of the animal, and so on to man. The many thoughts that were pursued about the primal generation of living things, generatic aequivocs,—were they not eloquent of the tendency to derive animate living Nature from inanimate and at long last from inorganic or mineral? To this day, I believe, many scientiste would doubt if there is any other rational way of conceiving the inner connection in the succession of Nature's Kingdoms than by deriving them all ultimately from the Inorganic, even where they culminate in Man. You will find countless papers, books, lectures and so on, including highly specialised ones claiming to be strictly scientific, the authors of which—as though hypnotised—are always looking at it from this angle. How, they inquire, can it have happened, somewhere at some time in the course of Nature, that the first living creature came into being from some molecular distribution, i.e. from something purely mineral in the last resort? The question now is, is it true at all to put the kingdoms of Nature in series in this way? Can it be done? Or, if we do, are we doing justice to their most evident and essential features? Compare a creature of the plant kingdom with an animal to begin with. Taking together all that you observe, you will not find in the forming of the animal anything that looks like a mere continuation or further elaboration of what is vegetable. If you begin with the simplest plant, the annual, you may well conceive its formative process to be carried further in the perennial. But you will certainly not be able to detect, in the organic principles of plant form and growth, anything that suggests further development towards the animal. On the contrary, you will more likely ascertain a polarity, a contrast between the two. You apprehend this polarity in the most evident phenomenon, namely the contrasting processes of assimilation: the altogether different relation of the plant and of the animal to carbon, and the characteristic use that is made of oxygen. I may remark, you must be careful here, to see and to describe it truly. You cannot simply say, the animal breathes-in oxygen while the plant breathes oxygen out and carbon in. It is not so simple as that. Nevertheless, the plant-forming process taken as a whole, in the organic life, reveals an evident polarity and contrast (as against the animal) in its relation to oxygen and carbon. The easiest way to put it is perhaps to say: What happens in the animal, in that the oxygen becomes bound to carbon and the carbonic acid is expelled, is for the animal itself and for man too.—an un-formative process, the very opposite of formative, a process which must be eliminated if the animal is to survive. And now the very thing which is undone in the animal, has to be done, has to be formed and builded in the plant. Think of what in the animal appears in some sense as a process of excretion, what the animal must get rid of makes for the forming and building process in the plant. It is a tangible polarity. You cannot possibly imagine the plant-forming process prolonged in a straight line, so as to derive therefrom the animal-formation. But you can well derive from the plant-forming process what has to be prevented in the animal. From the animal the carbon has to be taken away by the oxygen in the carbonic acid. Turn it precisely the other way round, and you will readily conceive the plant-forming process. You therefore cannot get from plant to animal by going on in a straight line. On the other hand you can without false symbolism imagine here an ideal mean or middlepoint, on the one side of which you see the plant—and on the other the animal—forming process. It forks out from here (Fig. 7). What is midway between,—let us imagine it as some kind of ideal mean. If we now carry the plant forming process further in a straight line we arrive not at the animal but at the perennial plant. Imagine now the typical perennial. Carry the stream of development which leads to it still further; in some respects at least you will not fail to recognise in it the way that leads toward mineralisation. Here then you have the way to mineralisation, and we may justly say; In direct continuation of the plant forming process there lies the way that leads to mineralisation. Now look what answers to it at the contrasting pole, along the other branch (Fig. 7). To proceed by a mere outward scheme, one would be tempted to say: this branch too must be prolonged. There would be no true polarity in that. Rather should you think as follows: In the plant-forming process I prolong the line. In the animal-forming process I shall have to proceed negatively, I must go back, I must turn round; I must imagine the animal-forming process not to shoot out beyond itself but to remain behind—behind what it would otherwise become. Observe now what is already available in scientific Zoology, in Selenka's researches for instance on the difference between man and animal in the forming of the embryo and in further development after birth,—comparing man and the higher animals. You will then have a more concrete idea of this "remaining behind". Indeed we owe our human form to the fact that in embryo-life we do not go as far as the animal but remain behind. Thus if we study the three kingdoms quite outwardly as they reveal themselves, without bringing in hypotheses, we find ourselves obliged to draw a strange mathematical line, that tends to vanish as we prolong it. This is what happens at the transition from animal to men, whilst on the other side we have a line that really lengthens (Fig. 8). Here is a fresh extension of mathematics. You are led to recognise a distinction—a purely mathematical one—when you draw this diagram. Namely there are lines which when continued grow longer, and there are lines which when continued grow shorter. It is a fully valid mathematical idea. If then we want to set out the Kingdoms of Nature in a diagram at all, we must do it thus. First we must have some ideal point to start from. Thence it forks out: plant kingdom, animal kingdom on either hand. Thereafter we must prolong the two lines. Only, the plant-kingdom-line must be so prolonged that it grows longer; the animal-kingdom-line so that it grows shorter as we prolong it. I say again, this is a genuine, mathematical idea. We thus arrive at real relationships between the Kingdom of Nature, though we begin by simply placing them side by side. The question now is—and we will only put it as a question,—What in reality corresponds to the ideal point in our diagram? We may divine that as the forming of the Kingdoms of Nature is related to this ideal point, so too must there be movements in the great Universe which relate to something somehow corresponding to it,—to this ideal mean. Let us reflect on it until tomorrow. |