| 206. Man as a Being of Sense and Perception: Lecture II
23 Jul 1921, Dornach Translated by Dorothy Lenn Rudolf Steiner |
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| The argument as to whether the Son is of the same nature and being as the Father, or of a different nature and being, is carried on in a realm in which the real content of the old ideas has been lost. |
| For it is only in the fact that we know nothing of God, of eternal life, but only believe in these things, that their true value lies. And indeed such knowledge is assailed on the ground that it will undermine the religious character of these truths; for their sacredness is said to lie in the very fact that in them we believe something about which we know nothing. |
| 206. Man as a Being of Sense and Perception: Lecture II
23 Jul 1921, Dornach Translated by Dorothy Lenn Rudolf Steiner |
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Yesterday I tried to draw the line between those sensory experiences which belong to the upper man, constituting man's essential soul life, and those which are more connected with the lower man, the content of which stands in much the same relationship to human consciousness as external experiences proper, only that these experiences take place within man. We have seen that the ego-sense, the sense of thought, the word-sense, the sense of hearing, the sense of warmth and the sense of sight are all experiences of the former kind, and that we then plunge into two regions in which man's inner experiences resemble external experiences so far as his consciousness is concerned; these two regions are, first, the senses of taste and smell, and then the other four, the inner senses proper. You see at once how difficult it is to make do with the rough and ready terms which are suitable enough for descriptions of the external world, but quite inadequate directly one comes to consider the being of man and the structure of the world within him. But at all events, if we are quite clear about this distinction between the upper and the lower man, both of which in a certain way are representative of the world-process, we shall also be well aware that there is a cleavage in our experience, that our relationship to the one pole of our experience is utterly different from our relationship to the other. Unless we grasp this division of the human being thoroughly we shall never reach full clarity about the most important problem of the present and of the near future, the problem of the relationship of the moral world, within which we live with our higher nature, within which we have responsibility, to that other world with which we are also connected, the world of natural necessity. We know that in recent centuries, since the middle of the fifteenth century, human progress has consisted predominantly in the development of ideas about natural necessity. Humanity has paid less attention in recent centuries to the other pole of human experience. Anyone who is at all able to read the signs of the times, anyone who knows how to recognise the task of the times, is quite clear that there is a deep cleft between what is called moral necessity and what is called natural necessity. This cleavage has arisen primarily because a great many of those who believe themselves to represent the spiritual life of to-day distinguish between a certain sphere of experience that can be grasped by science, by knowledge, and another sphere that is said to be grasped only by faith. And you know that in certain quarters only what can be brought under strict natural law is acknowledged to be really scientific; and another kind of certitude is postulated for all that falls within the sphere of the moral life, a certitude which only claims to be the certitude of faith. There are circumstantial theories as to the necessary distinction that has to be made between real scientific certainty and the certitude of belief. All these distinctions, these theories, have come about because to-day we have very little historical consciousness; we pay very little attention to the conditions under which our present soul-content came into being. I have often given the classic example of this. I have often told you that to-day, when philosophers speak of the distinction between body and soul, they think they are using a concept which derives from original observation, whereas what they think about body and soul is merely the result of the decision of the eighth Æcumenical Council of 869, which raised to the status of dogma the doctrine that man must not be regarded as consisting of body, soul and spirit but of body and soul only, although some spiritual characteristics may be ascribed to the soul. In the centuries that followed, this dogma became more and more firmly established. The Schoolmen in particular were steeped in it. And when modern philosophy developed out of Scholasticism, people thought that now they were forming their judgments from experience. But they were only judging according to their usual habits, through the centuries-old custom of assuming man to consist of body and soul. This is the classic example of many situations in which present-day humanity believes that it forms an unprejudiced judgment, whereas the judgment it utters is nothing but the result of an historical event. One comes to a really sound judgment—and then not without difficulty—only by the survey of ever wider and wider historical epochs. For example, the man who knows nothing but the scientific thought of the present time quite naturally thinks it the only valid kind of thought, and is incapable of thinking that there could be any other kind of knowledge. The man who, as well as being familiar with the scientific opinion of the present time—which has hardened somewhat since the middle of the fifteenth century—also knows a little of what was accepted in the early Middle Ages, right back to the fourth century, will form his judgments about the relations of man with the world somewhat as the Neo-Scholastics do. But at most he will be able to form opinions about man's relation to intellectuality; he will not be able to form any opinion about his relation to spirituality. For he does not know that if we go back earlier than, say, Aristotle, who died in 322 B.C., we have to see ourselves in a very different spiritual configuration from the one at present prevailing, in order to get any sort of understanding as to how the men of that time thought. To try to understand Plato or Heraclitus or Thales with a constitution of soul such as we have at the present day is an utter impossibility. We do not even understand Aristotle. And anyone who is at all familiar with the discussions that have taken place in modern times about the Aristotelian philosophy knows that amidst all the waging of wordy warfare which still goes on in connection with Aristotle countless misconceptions have arisen, simply because men have not reckoned with the fact that the moment we go back to Plato, for example, who was Aristotle's teacher, we need an entirely different spiritual constitution. For if one approaches Aristotle in a forward direction, from the direction of Plato, one judges his logic differently from the way one does if one merely looks back upon it with the spiritual make-up resulting from present-day culture. Even when Aristotle was compiling his logic, which is certainly pretty abstract, very much intellectualised, he still had at least an external knowledge, even if not personal vision—there was certainly very little of that left in Aristotle—but he was still clearly aware that at one time it had been possible to see into the spiritual world, even if only in an instinctive way. And for him the rules of logic were the last utterance from above, from the spiritual world, if I may put it so. For Aristotle, accordingly, what he established as the laws or principles of logic were, so to say, shadows which had been cast down from the spiritual world—the world that was still a world of experience, a fact of consciousness, for Plato. The enormous differences that obtain between different epochs of humanity is a thing that is usually overlooked. Let us take the years from the death of Aristotle, 322 B.C., to the Council of Nicea, A.D. 325; there you have a period which it is very difficult to get to know, because the Church took care to destroy all documents that might have given a more or less accurate picture of the state of soul of those three pre-Christian and three post-Christian centuries. You have only to recall how often reference is made to-day to the Gnosis. But how do people know about the Gnosis? They know it through the writings of its opponents. Except for a very few texts, and those very far from representative ones, the whole of the Gnostic literature has been wiped out, and all we have are quotations from it in the works of its opponents, in works which are intended to refute it. We know about as much of the Gnosis as we should know of Anthroposophy if we were to make its acquaintance through the writings of Pius X. Nevertheless, out of this superficial knowledge people do hold forth about the Gnosis. But the Gnosis was an essential element in the spiritual life of the centuries that I have just mentioned, To-day, of course, we cannot go back to it. But at that particular period it was an extremely important element in European development. How can one really describe it? You see, one could not have spoken of it five hundred years earlier in the way it was spoken of in the fourth century A.D. For at that time there was still an instinctive clairvoyance, an ancient clairvoyance, there was knowledge of a super-sensible world, and one had to speak in a descriptive way out of this knowledge. The real spiritual world was always present in consciousness and was always behind such portrayals of it. Then that condition ceased. It is a marked feature of Aristotle, for example, that this super-sensible world was for him only a tradition. He may have known something of it, but, as I have already said, in the main it was tradition for him. But the concepts which he received from the spiritual world still carried the impress of that world, an impress which was lost only in the third and fourth centuries A.D. In Augustine we find no trace of the Gnosis; by his time it had quite disappeared. Thus we may say that the Gnosis is in its essence the abstract residuum of an earlier spiritual knowledge; it consists of naked concepts. What lived in it was a body of abstractions. We can see this already in Philo. And one can see abstractions in the ideas of the real Gnostics, too, but their teachings were abstractions of a spiritual world that had once been seen. By the fourth century A.D. things had come to the point when men no longer knew what to make of the ideas that formed the content of the Gnosis. Hence arose the dispute between Arius and Athanasius, which cannot really be reduced to a formula. The argument as to whether the Son is of the same nature and being as the Father, or of a different nature and being, is carried on in a realm in which the real content of the old ideas has been lost. The argument takes its course no longer with ideas, but merely with words. All this formed the transition to the pure intellectualism which was to develop more and more, reaching western humanity just in the middle of the fifteenth century. By the time this intellectualism emerged, logic was something quite different from what it had been for Aristotle. For him, logic was, so to say, the residue of spiritual knowledge. He had made a compilation of what in earlier times had been experienced out of the spiritual world. By the middle of the fifteenth century the last scrap of consciousness of this spiritual world had vanished, and only the intellectual element remained; but now this intellectual element appears not as the residue of a spiritual world, but as an abstraction from the sense-world. What for Aristotle was a gift from the world above, was now taken to be an abstraction from the world below. And it was in essentials with  this element that men such as Galileo, Copernicus, Kepler now went forward (though Kepler, it is true, still had some intuitions), seeking to apply an intellectualism, the spiritual origin of which had been lost, to the external world, the purely natural world. So that one can say that during its development from the fourth to the fifteenth century civilised humanity is, as it were, in labour with the intellectualism that only comes from below—an intellectualism which is fully born only in the fifteenth century, and thereafter establishes itself firmly, applying reason ever more and more to the observation of external nature, until in the nineteenth century it reaches its high-water mark in this respect. If you take what I said yesterday about the ego-sense, the thought-sense, the word-sense and so on, you will come to the conclusion that in what we now experience through these senses in our ordinary human consciousness we are actually only dealing with pictures; otherwise there could not be those perpetual discussions which result inevitably from the characteristics of the present time. Indeed, a real understanding of the essential soul-life has for the time being been lost. An example of this is the way in which Brentano's attempt to write a psychology, a theory of the soul, failed ... something which he tried to do in all sincerity. Other people of course write psychologies, because they are less honest, less candid ... but he wanted in perfect candour to write a psychology that would be worth while, and he achieved nothing of any intrinsic value, because this could only have come from spiritual science, which he repudiated. Hence his psychology remained truncated, since he achieved so little of what he was really striving for. This failure of Brentano's psychology is an historic fact of profound significance. For the jugglery with all sorts of concepts and ideas that our psychological science pursues to-day was of course for Brentano something quite empty. But now what we have here (see diagram) as the soul-life which is the outcome of the six upper senses, from the ego-sense to the sense of sight, all this was at one time filled with spiritual life. If we turn our gaze back to ancient times in Europe, back as far as Plato, all that afterwards became more and more devoid of spirituality, more and more intellectualised, was then filled with spirituality. We find there all that had been given to humanity in its evolution in a still more ancient time, in the time when the Orient had taken the lead as regards human civilisation; then men possessed a civilisation which was devoted to this soul-life, this true soul-life. So that we can say:
All these senses furnish experiences which nourish the spiritual life, when spiritual life is present in the soul. And what humanity developed in this respect was developed within the ancient eastern culture. And you understand that culture best when you understand it in the light of what I have just told you. But all this has, so to say, receded into the background of evolution. The life of the soul then lost its spirituality, it became intellectualised, and that, as I said, began in the fourth century B.C. Aristotle's compilation of abstract logic was the first milestone on the path of this despiritualisation of human soul-life, and the development of the Gnosis brought about its complete descent. Now we still have the other man:
And now a civilisation began that was based essentially upon the senses just enumerated. Even if you do not at first admit it, nevertheless it is so. For take the scientific spirit that emerged, the scientific spirit that tries to apply mathematics to everything. Mathematics, as I explained to you yesterday, comes from the senses of movement and of balance. Thus even the most spiritual things discovered by modern science come from the lower man. But modern scientists work above all with the sense of touch. You can make interesting studies to-day if you go into the sphere of physiology. Of course, people talk about seeing, or about the eye, or about the sense of sight; but one who sees through these things knows that all the concepts that are used are somehow conjured from the sense of touch to the sense of sight. People work with things that are borrowed, smuggled in, from the sense of touch. People do not notice it, but in describing the sense of sight they make use of categories, of ideas, with which one grasps the sense of touch. What to-day is called sight in scientific circles is really only a somewhat complicated touching; and categories, concepts such as tasting or smelling, are sometimes brought in to help. We can see everywhere at work the way of grasping external phenomena which lies behind modern ideas. For modern anatomy and physiology have already discovered—or at any rate have a well-founded hypothesis—that modern thinking really has its roots in the sense of smell, in that thinking is bound up with the brain—thus not at all with the higher senses, but with a metamorphosis of the sense of smell. This characteristic attitude of ours in our grasp of the outer world is quite different from the relationship that Plato had. It is not a product of the higher senses, it is a product of the sense of smell, if I may put it so. I mean that to-day our perfection as man does not come from our having developed the higher senses, but from our having created for ourselves a modified, metamorphosed dog's muzzle. This peculiar way of relating ourselves to the outer world is quite different from the way which befits a spiritual epoch. Now if we have to designate as oriental culture what was first revealed through the higher senses in ancient times, then what I have just depicted, in the midst of which we are now living, must be called the essence of western culture. This western culture is in essentials derived from the lower man. I must again and again emphasise that there is no question of appraisal in what I am now saying; it is merely a statement of the course of history. I am certainly not trying to point out that the upper man is estimable and the lower man less estimable. The one is an absorption into the world, the other is not. And it does not help to introduce sympathy and antipathy, for then one does not reach objective knowledge. Anyone who wishes to understand what is contained in the Veda culture, the Yoga culture, must start from an understanding of these things, and must take this direction (see diagram, upper man). And whoever wishes to understand what is really to be found in its first beginnings, what has to be more and more developed for certain kinds of human relationships, what indeed in the nineteenth century has already reached a certain climax, has to know that it is particularly the lower man that is trying to emerge there, and that this emergence of the lower man is especially characteristic of the Anglo-American nature, of western culture.
A spirit specially representative of the rise of this culture is Lord Bacon of Verulam. In his Novum Organum, for instance, he makes statements—statements very easily misunderstood—that at bottom can have meaning only for superficial people. And yet what he says is extraordinarily characteristic. Bacon is in a certain respect both ill-informed and foolish, for as soon as he begins to speak of ancient cultures he talks nonsense; he knows nothing about them. That he is superficial can be demonstrated from his own writings. For instance, where he speaks about warmth—he is an empiricist—he gathers together everything that can be said about warmth, but one sees that he gets it all from notes of experiments. What he has to say about warmth, he did not find out for himself, but it has been pieced together by a clerk, a copyist, for it is a frightfully careless piece of work. Nevertheless Bacon is a milestone in modern evolution. One may dismiss his personality as of no interest, but yet through all his ineptitude and through all the rubbish that he again and again gives out, something continually gets through that is characteristic of the emergence of a culture that corresponds with what I have described here (see diagram, lower man). And humanity will not be able to emerge from the poverty of soul in which it is now living if it does not grasp that—for reasons which previous lectures will have made sufficiently clear—it was possible to live with the culture of the upper man, but it will not be possible to live with the culture of the lower man. For after all, man brings his soul with him into each new incarnation, a soul which has unconscious memories of earlier lives on earth. Man is ever and again urged towards what he has outlived. To-day he often does not know what it is that he is being driven towards. This urge consists in a vague longing; it is sometimes quite indefinable, but it is there. And it is there above all because one comes gradually to regard what belongs to this sphere (see diagram, lower man) as something objective, since it can be grasped in terms of laws. All that exists of a more traditional nature, and belongs to this sphere (see diagram, upper man) has, as regards its real nature, faded away into belief. And although people are at a loss how to attribute real existence to this moral content of the soul, and turn to faith as the only support for knowing anything about it, nevertheless they try to cling to it. But, my dear friends, it is not possible for humanity nowadays to go on living with this cleavage in the soul. One can still argue that the evangelical antithesis, the opposition between faith and knowledge which has been elaborated particularly in the evangelical denominations, can be maintained as a theory; but it cannot be applied to life, one cannot live by it. Life itself gives the lie to such an antithesis. The way must be found to assimilate morality with that to which we ascribe real being, otherwise we shall always come to the point of saying: Natural necessity provides us with ideas about the beginning and the end of the earth; but when the end decreed by the scientists has arrived, what is to become of everything to which we ascribe human worth, of all that man attains inwardly, morally ... as to what is to become of that, how it is to be rescued from the perishing earth, all this has to be left to faith! And it is interesting to note that it is just from this standpoint that Anthroposophy is attacked. Perhaps at this point I may be allowed to mention this attack, because it is typical; it does not emanate from one person, but from a number of people. They find that Anthroposophy claims to have a content of knowledge, and thus can be treated like scientific knowledge. Simpletons say of course that its content cannot be compared with scientific knowledge, that it is something else—well, that is self-evident, there is no need to mention it; but it can be treated in the same way as natural scientific knowledge. Many people also say that one cannot prove it. Those people have never made themselves acquainted with the nature of logical proof. But the main point is that people say that the things of which Anthroposophy treats ought not to be the objects of knowledge, for this would deprive them of their essential character. They must be objects of faith. For it is only in the fact that we know nothing of God, of eternal life, but only believe in these things, that their true value lies. And indeed such knowledge is assailed on the ground that it will undermine the religious character of these truths; for their sacredness is said to lie in the very fact that in them we believe something about which we know nothing. The very expression of our trust lies in our ignorance. I should very much like to know how men would get on with such a concept of trust in everyday life, if they had to have the same trust in those about whom they knew nothing as in those of whom they knew something ... at that rate one should no longer trust the divine spiritual powers when one gets to know them! Thus the essence of religion is supposed to consist in the fact that one does not know it, for the holiness of religious truths suffers injury when one converts those truths into knowledge. That is what it comes to. If one pays any attention to the worthless scribbling that goes on, then every week one sees in print things that are reduced to nonsense if one analyses them into their original elementary constituents. To-day one must not ignore these things. I must again and again stress this, and I do not hesitate to repeat myself. For instance, when a respectable newspaper in Wurttemburg publishes an essay on Anthroposophy by a university lecturer who writes, “This Anthroposophy maintains that there is a spiritual world in which the spiritual beings move about like tables and chairs in physical space,” when a university don to-day is able to write such a sentence, we must leave no stone unturned to discredit him; he is impossible: nonsense in responsible quarters must not be allowed to pass. It is only when anyone is drunk that he sees tables and chairs move, and then only subjectively. And since Professor T. would neither admit that he was drunk when he wrote his authoritative article, nor that he was a spiritualist—for tables and chairs do move for spiritualists, even if not of themselves—then one is justified in saying that here we have an example of the most thoughtless nonsense. And by having written such nonsense, the Professor undermines confidence in all his knowledge. To-day we must make it our bounden duty to treat such things with the utmost severity. And we shall become more and more entangled in the forces of decadence if we do not maintain this severity. We meet with utterly incredible things to-day, and the most incredible things get by, since we perpetually find excuse after excuse for the trickeries that are committed in so-called authoritative circles. To-day it is absolutely necessary to lay stress upon the importance of reaching clear ideas, full of content, in every sphere. And if one does this, then the doctrine of the separation between knowledge and faith cannot be maintained, for then it would be reduced to what I have just now pointed out. But this distinction between knowledge and belief is something that has been brought about only in the course of history. It has come about partly for reasons which I have already mentioned, partly on account of something else. Above all, the following must be taken into consideration. To begin with, there is what came about in western Christianity in the first Christian centuries through the fusing of the Gnosis with the monotheistic Gospel teaching, and then there is the fusing of Christianity with the Aristotelianism that arose in the time of the Schoolmen—certainly in a highly intelligent way, but nevertheless merely as historical recollection. And this doctrine, the doctrine of the uniform origin of both body and soul through birth or conception, is a thoroughly Aristotelian doctrine. With the casting off of the old spirituality, with the emergence of pure intellectuality, Aristotle had already been divested of the notion of pre-existence, the notion of the life of the human soul before birth, before conception. This denial of the doctrine of pre-existence is not Christian; it is Aristotelian. It first became a dogmatic fetter through the introduction of Aristotelianism into Christian theology. But at this point an important question arises—a question which can be answered to some extent from the substance of the lectures I have given here in recent weeks. If you remember much of what I have lately been saying, you will have come to the conclusion that the materialism of the nineteenth century is in a certain sense not wholly unjustified (I have repeatedly stressed this). Why! Because what confronts us in the human being, in so far as he is a physical-material being, is an image, a reproduction, of his spiritual evolution since his last death. What develops here between birth and death is not in fact the pure soul-spiritual; it is the soul-physical, a copy. Out of man's experiences between birth and death there is no possibility of acquiring a scientific conception of life after death. There is nothing which offers a possible proof of immortality, if one looks merely at the life between birth and death. But traditional Christianity does look only at this life between birth and death, for it regards the soul as well as the body as having been created at the time of birth or conception. This viewpoint makes it impossible to acquire knowledge about life after death. Unless one accepts the existence of life before birth, knowledge of which can, as you know, be acquired, one can never obtain knowledge of life after death. Hence the cleavage between knowledge and belief as regards the question of immortality arises from the dogma which denies the life before birth. It was because men wanted to drop the knowledge of pre-natal life that it became necessary to postulate a special certitude of faith. For if, whilst denying pre-natal life, one still wishes to speak of a life after death, then one cannot speak of it as scientific knowledge. You see how systematically ordered the dogmatic structure is. Its purpose is to spread darkness among mankind about spiritual science. How can that be done? On the one hand by attacking the doctrine of life before birth ... then there can be no knowledge about life after death, then men have to believe it on the basis of dogma. The fight for belief in dogma is waged by fighting against knowledge of life before birth. The way dogma has developed since the fourth century A.D., and the way modern scientific notions have developed without interruption out of dogma—it is all extraordinarily systematic! For all these scientific ideas can be traced back to their origin in dogma, only they are now applied to the observation of external nature, and it can be shown how thereby the way has been paved for man's dependence upon mere belief. Because man will have some relationship to immortality, he is deprived of his knowledge—for he has been deprived of it—and then he is open to dogmatic belief. Then dogmatic belief can seek out its kingdom. This is at the same time a social question, a question relevant to the evolution of humanity, a question that has to be clearly faced to-day. And it is the crucial test, not only of the value of modern culture, but also of the value of the modern scientific spirit, and of humanity's prospects of recovering the strength to rise, to climb up again. |
| 316. Course for Young Doctors: Easter Course IV
24 Apr 1924, Dornach Translated by Gerald Karnow Rudolf Steiner |
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| It has been killed because Moon, Sun and Saturn—this Trinity which was then disguised as Father, Son and Spirit—disappeared and was repudiated by Arabian thought in Mohammedanism with the words: “Away with this Trinity. Mohammed proclaims only one God!” (Mohammed himself did not say this, but the Angel who inspired him, did. He was not one of the best Angels although he was a very wise one.) |
| 316. Course for Young Doctors: Easter Course IV
24 Apr 1924, Dornach Translated by Gerald Karnow Rudolf Steiner |
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I thought that today we would develop, in another direction, things that were mentioned yesterday. Perhaps this will help to give the questions you have put, and of which Dr. Wegman has told me, a right form. Through your general destiny as human beings you are finding your way into the medical profession, into the vocation of healing. In this sphere you find a certain current to which, with full justification, you feel a kind of inner opposition. There are often objective reasons for this and you will understand what they are when you realize more and more that modern medicine is really like a foreign body in much of what constitutes European, Western civilization. We see for the first time how things really are when we realize that the reason why our natural science—and also a great deal else in modern spiritual life—has assumed its present form, is that people of importance in medicine and science within our culture were reincarnations of individualities from the Arabian-Mohammedan culture. These matters have recently been much spoken of at the Goetheanum. They are, indeed, connected with what is now happening in the Anthroposophical movement, but for the physicians, too, they are very important. I have said on various occasions that we must turn our attention to that center of spiritual culture which was at its prime when, in Europe, a kind of primitive spiritual life was prevailing under Charlemagne. Over in Asia there was flourishing the spiritual culture centers around Harun al Raschid (766–809). Many of the wise men of those days—including many physicians—were at his court. It was a time, as you will notice, when Christianity had already been working for some centuries. Christianity itself appears in the world as something that can only be understood slowly and by degrees and, for an external, though not for an inner point of view, it is very strange that the deeper sides of Christianity have, in reality, not been fathomed at all by human beings. Christianity came into the world as an objective fact and the receptive faculties of men were not strong enough to develop the real essence of it in all directions. The objective consequences, therefore, are that Christianity is everywhere living in the sub-consciousness but that for three or four centuries it has been completely ruined by man. Human beings ruined Christianity through their intellect. As well as this there are the terribly dilettante institutions that have been set up in recent times at universities. Originally there were four traditional faculties, namely: philosophy, theology, jurisprudence, and medicine. The rest that have been added have been based on utter unenlightenment and misunderstanding. Faculties for such subjects as political science, national economy and the like, originated from thoughts which no longer knew anything at all of the essentials. What has not been understood at all is that, to begin with, four men were sent out by Christ to proclaim Christianity: Matthew, the theologian; Mark, the jurist; Luke, the physician; and John, the philosopher. This fact, which has very deep roots in the spiritual life (things at present are only in germ and have yet to blossom and bear fruit), is also connected with the realization that the texts of the four Gospels cannot completely tally because the one is written from the standpoint of the theologian, the other from the standpoint of the philosopher, a third from the standpoint of the jurist, and a fourth from the standpoint of the physician. This must be thoroughly understood. And because it has not been understood, because the Luke Gospel has not yet been accepted as a guide for the inner will-to-healing, there is no truly Christian will-to-healing in modern thought. There is, instead, the attitude that has crept into spiritual culture through Arabism which has gripped Christianity like a pair of forceps. It is very interesting that Christianity, which originated in Asia, came across to Europe and spread abroad in Europe. But now just think of the Court of Harun al Raschid, where ancient medicine flourished. The Old Mystery Wisdom, still preserved in tradition, was living in the existing knowledge concerning the being of man. There were two men at that court: Harun al Raschid himself, the organizer of the great academy of spiritual life which grew and developed under his influence; and another, who in earlier times had been an initiate. In the days of Harun al Raschid the initiation did not come to the surface. Harun al Raschid
reincarnated as Lord Bacon of Verulam (1561–1626) and with his kind of thinking which was thoroughly steeped in Arabism, he renewed the natural-scientific thinking, from the West. Such was the path he took in his life between death and rebirth. If you would study Lord Bacon you would find how greatly medicine was influenced thereby. Indeed you would be amazed. The other man, the initiate, was reborn in the soul of Amos Comenius (1592–1670). Comenius' life was one of aspiration towards the spirit, but he turned everything into intellectual conceptions. Again, another personality in Arabism—he did not live at exactly the same time as Harun al Raschid, but he played a part in the battle of Zeres de la Frontera—was reborn as Charles Darwin (1809–1882). And so the influences that are working in natural science and especially in medicine, are re-embodiments of ancient conceptions from which Christianity was excluded. Such conceptions did not constitute an evolution of Christianity, but Christianity was excluded as Arabism embraced Europe in its fold. Medicine itself was most of all affected in this sense. The impulse which the Luke Gospel can give to medicine has still to be absorbed. To this end you must take with the very greatest earnestness what I said yesterday about understanding the being of man from out of the cosmos and then you will find your true bearings in the tasks which your karma sets you today. Let us try to picture medicine as it was at the Court of Harun al Raschid. On the one side it contained the heritage of the Hippocratic mode of thinking. Those who have read the first course of lectures to physicians given by me here will perhaps remember that I referred to Hippocrates as being the last man who healed on the basis of the medical wisdom of the Ancient Mysteries. Over in Asia, during the transition to Hippocratic medicine, there came, from northeastern Asia, a strong influence from Mongolian methods of healing. Very much was introduced against which not only European thought but the inner nature of the human being himself could not help rebelling. The inner nature of man was not in harmony with the Mongolian-Tartar influence which thus entered into medical thinking. The reason can be found if we can understand the human being from a fundamental, cosmic point of view. In the book Occult Science, evolution is described through the Saturn, Sun, Moon phases, followed by the phase of Earth evolution proper. The human being has passed through all these stages of evolution and from what has been said in these lectures you will have learned that there is, firstly, the stream of heredity which works in the model, and secondly, the stream of the individuality which comes from earlier earthly lives. What works in heredity leads back to earlier times but is an Ahrimanic remnant, has dried up. This is what is contained in heredity and it is really with this factor alone that modern orthodox medicine is working. No heed is paid to the other stream that is elaborated in the second period of human life between the change of teeth and puberty—the period which even statistics show to be the most healthy because during it the human being is least prone to fall ill. Modern medicine does not really desire to be connected with health; it prefers to burrow about in disease. This expresses the condition of things very radically but so it is, in reality. To have a real connection with health this understanding of the whole cosmos in man must be brought to the point where the cosmos is actually perceived in the human being. For this we need a knowledge of the data which can enable us to have a picture of the cosmic evolution of man. The Old Saturn evolution, Old Sun evolution, Old Moon evolution—all are contained within the human being. And not until these three stages which lead up to the stage of Earth evolution are grasped is it possible to understand what we really have before us in the earthly human being. There are so many sciences today—but there is no real science concerning Saturn, Sun, Moon, because in our general experience of nature we can no longer remember what was contained in the instinctive, primal wisdom. We cannot even approach the wisdom that was still so alive in Hippocrates, because it has become mere phraseology. It must again be filled with life. Significant words sound over to us from ancient times, but, generally speaking, no heed is paid to them, least of all is any heed paid to the wonderful indications they contain for medicine. There is a sentence in the Bible to the effect that the divine powers of the world regulated life on the basis of measure, number, and weight. But is there anyone today who regards such words as being anything more than a phrase suggesting the existence of an ancient, divine architect who worked according to the principles of measure, number and weight? A physician, however, has to find measure, number, and weight actually within the human being. If we consider Saturn—and the Saturn evolution is contained in the human being—we naturally do not find this Saturn evolution as such in the human being as he actually is today, because all the evolutionary stages are synthetically united in him; they are present, but in such a way that the single stages by themselves disappear in the union, in the harmony. Illness, however, calls forth the one or the other phenomenon in its own particular form. And now, what I have described in Occult Science must really be grasped, not with the intellect alone, but in the way that makes us feel how during the Saturn evolution a cosmic warmth was all-pervading. Whenever we study the Saturn evolution we are led back to the element of warmth. Saturn is working in the human being and all that is described about the Saturn evolution—it is all working in the human being, but it does not come to light in earthly man when these evolutionary stages are intermingled within his being. It does, however, work when a human being is ill. A separation then takes place of what is otherwise united into a harmony. The Saturn element works on its own—in fever. We shall have a science of fever for the first time when we make this science of fever cosmic, when we can understand how Old Saturn is working in the human being; we must understand how, in the phenomenon of fever, the cosmos is working in by way of the Saturn forces which, spiritually speaking, have been sucked in by the earth. Realizing that the Saturn forces are distributed over the earth's surface, and appear in their strongest form in the lead forces, we shall get an inner understanding of fever. The divine world order regulates the world according to measure, and in the measure of the fever there is an expression of the measure prevailing in the world order. We must see the principle of measure in the phenomena of fever. Therefore, we must let these words work strongly in us:
It is in very truth the spirit of the human being that makes its appearance in the fever which, in other circumstances, is submerged in the other elements. In fever, the spirit of man asserts itself, but here it is isolated. The most ancient constituent part of the being of man appears, in fever, at the surface of existence. After the Saturn evolution came the Sun evolution, during which the element of warmth condensed to air on the one side, but, on the other, was rarefied to light. Light and air intermingle, they belong together. When we breathe we take in the rhythm of the air. We also take in the light, and light, in the occult sense, is not merely that which works in the eye. Light is a general expression for what works through the sun. The eye is merely the most characteristic representative of what works through the sun. In the Middle Ages, what works in the light was known as spiritual tincture. The Sun evolution is also within the human being of today and we feel it at once, not as something that is now working on the earth but as the after-working of the Old Sun, when with true feeling we lay our fingers on the pulse of a human being. The number of the pulse beats is an expression of the Old Sun evolution within us. Therefore as the second couplet, we have:
Whether we act or do not act like this, my dear friends, is by no means a matter of indifference. Such a thing can be taken seriously, or not seriously. It makes a tremendous difference if you are really mindful of this when you proceed to read the temperature on the thermometer, if, having acquired the faculty by inner practice you think of the picture presented by evolution in the Saturn period. There, because everything lives in the flow of warmth, the whole world appears to you like a spirit gift in which, by way of warmth, love streams into every single thing; and if in this mood of devotion you realize that streaming love exists in the world through Saturn's warmth, if in this mood of reverent gratitude to the love and warmth-bestowing world creative power you recognize what is happening as you test the temperature, then you will have an intuition about what you ought to do. Similarly we ought not to feel the pulse in the slipshod, mechanical way in which this is often done, but we should actually be able to steep ourselves in the cosmic rhythm that goes out from the sun. In feeling the pulse we should be able also to feel how the human being lives within all that spreads out light, air, and brightness, irradiating the world. Then again our whole being is poured into the will-to-heal. The will-to-heal cannot be acquired by inner commandment but only when the soul's attitude to the world is one of true devotion. Then you can pass on to examine the other symptoms. You try to discover how far the substances that are working in the human being are not taking on the human form but are adhering to their own form. To what, for example, is diabetes due? In the healthy human being, the sugar is humanized; it does not work through its own force as sugar. The diabetic condition is due to the fact that in his very atoms the human being is too weak to permeate the sugar through and through. In his ego organization he is following the sugar forces—forces which belong to the world outside man. Think of all the forces that express themselves in diabetes, in the residues of the urine, which deposit themselves in the body in migraine and other conditions. Think of all the substances that appear in the body, following their own laws and not the laws of man's nature, and two questions will occur to you. First of all, how is it possible that there can arise in man a tendency to let substance unfold its own forces within his organism? If this tendency had never been present, the Moon evolution would never have been able to intervene. The moon forces intervene when the substances within the human organism want to go their own way. When this happens the moon forces seize hold of the forces of the substances and, as moon forces, produce the form of man. The human form is permeated with the moon forces. Saturn is the giver of warmth, sun of rhythm, moon of form. Thus it is, in the whole human being. Think of something which I always emphasize. The brain in us has not really its own weight. If we remove the brain we find that its weight is about 1,500 grams, but when it is in the body it weighs only approximately twenty grams, because, according to the principle of Archimedes, every body in water loses as much of its weight as the weight of the volume of water displaced. The brain in the cerebral fluid, displaces some of this fluid, acquires buoyancy, and presses down on its base with a weight of only approximately twenty grams. So it is with everything else. The point is that there must be, in the cosmos, forces which up to the necessary degree take away from the human being some of the weight of the substances within him. The weight must be regulated and the third couplet has to do with the weight of substance and its regulation by the cosmos. If you are investigating the workings of metabolism, you are, in reality, investigating whether some substance is manifesting under the influence of its own weight or whether the weight is regulated by the cosmos. This is the regulation by the divine spiritual world according to weight. And the third couplet is:
Again with this attitude we should be able to feel, when we are speaking about rheumatism, gout, constipation, diabetes, migraine, about all conditions that are somehow connected with deposits which express the inherent weight of the substances, we should feel that something is entering into our experience that can be expressed in the words: Earthly gravity has laid hold of the human being. Much is contained in such words. You should permeate your investigations with such feelings. Just think how abstractly, how brutally, how heedlessly investigations are made into these things today and you will realize what is really lacking and has been killed, in spite of the fact that Arabism did conserve much of the wisdom, conscientiousness and skill of ancient times. It has been killed because Moon, Sun and Saturn—this Trinity which was then disguised as Father, Son and Spirit—disappeared and was repudiated by Arabian thought in Mohammedanism with the words: “Away with this Trinity. Mohammed proclaims only one God!” (Mohammed himself did not say this, but the Angel who inspired him, did. He was not one of the best Angels although he was a very wise one.) And so we see that all differentiations in the world are allowed to disappear; things which ought to be known are darkened and our medicine has become an Arabian-Mohammedan medicine. European humanity was incapable of discovering the truth. Today these things must be known or mankind will go to pieces.
If these things are grasped with real feeling, we shall realize how in the course of life on earth the individuality who comes from previous earthly lives takes hold of the model which proceeds from the stream of heredity. I have already told you of the struggle that takes place between what is shaped according to the model as the second human body in contrast to the first body that is really a model. If we know that we have in front of us a being who is really working himself to the surface, we also realize that what comes from earlier incarnations is working at this being. Those who permeate these things with their forces of heart and soul have the best possible opportunity to perceive or at least to get an inkling of what is coming over from earlier incarnations. What is the cause of the condition that appears as illness? The healthy human being has his head organization, whose structure, even externally, is separated from the rest of the organization. The head is a bony structure in which the brain is enclosed. A continuation of the head is also contained in the bones. The head is self-contained and the rest of the human being is joined to it. But in the finer organization of man there is something that demarcates these two parts of his being. It is not so very easy to prove this fact by external anatomy and physiology, but there is a tremendous amount to be learned by studying the transformation of the foodstuffs, for instance, the fact that these foodstuffs do not, in their own form, pass over into the head organization, nor even into the nerves. There is a sharp boundary line which must not be crossed. What is it that must not cross this boundary? Now from the beginning of earthly life there is working, most strongly of all in the head organization, the forces from earlier earthly lives which have been preserved through the period between birth and death. The forces of the child's individuality proceed from the head. But they must not pass down unsifted into the rest of the organism. A sieve must be there, an intermediate stratum. It is not externally visible but it exists in the organization. Nothing passes downwards unsifted. The lung as an organ or the liver as an organ must not be seized hold of directly by the forces that come from earlier incarnations. They cannot bear this. The human being is in a terrible condition when one is obliged to realize that the forces from earlier incarnations are getting to his liver without having passed through this sieve. In the period between death and a new birth the human individuality transforms into the new head organization the forces that were contained in lung and liver, in the metabolic-limb system, and in part, also, in the rhythmic system. The organization of limbs and metabolism is added for the first time, from outside. The human individuality (who is eternal) may only enter in this when the gate of death has been passed and when the physical, material part of it has fallen away. It is only the forces of the lung and the liver and other organs that pass through the gate of death. Thus, during earthly life, harm arises when the individuality enters into certain organs into which it ought not to enter. Therefore when we are faced with certain conditions of illness we have only to say to ourselves: Here the individuality from the previous earthly life is working on the organ which now ought only to be influenced by the present earthly life. The proper separation is not there. In the sick human being we see the individuality working over from previous earthly lives. This individuality which ought only to live itself out in the realm of the moral, in the realm of destiny, which ought to remain in what the human being does and experiences and ought not to touch the organization in the most earthly part of the human being—this individuality is working partly in the metabolic-limb system, partly in the rhythmic system, partly in the nerve and sense system because the boundary line has become faulty. Our attitude to the human being is influenced by the fact that we know: In the diseased lung the individuality of the human being is working. When one looks at someone suffering from pulmonary tuberculosis one feels a deep and true sympathy, realizing that the materialism of our time is diverting him into the outer world and that his karma, which ought to live itself out in the moral sphere, in destiny, is, on account of our present spiritual life, thrusting him back into his own bodily nature. The individuality, instead of passing over into the realm of the moral, retreats suddenly, becomes organic, seizes hold of the lungs. The lungs are that part of the metabolic-limb system which is turned inwards, whereas the general direction of this system is outwards. Thus, the individuality, working over from earlier incarnations, takes hold directly of the corporeality. These things are not so important as theories, but they lead one into the whole mood and attitude which generates the will-to-healing and then finds a real connection with man's need for healing. In our modern materialistic culture there is a sharp division between the one who heals and the one who needs healing. They do not get near to each other. There must arise a feeling for the eternal in the human being and out of this feeling there will develop the right relationship between the healer and the one who is to be healed. We realize then that we must always individualize in our treatment, for every human being has his own karma. In all healing measures we must individualize. These things must work upon our hearts. They become esoteric when we allow them to work upon us. A document like the Luke Gospel contains the whole mood that we need in order to develop this feeling. Originally there actually were four faculties, a “Luke faculty” among them, but no trace of it exists today because our medicine is so strongly imbued with Arabism. Medicine will be Christianized when once again we reach the cosmic truths. The physician, too, must be conscious of his position in connection with these cosmic truths. All this will indicate to you how strongly the forces of the moon influence the human form. When the moon forces in the human form work too irregularly we must realize that we heal by getting rid of this irregularity in the form and this can be done if we treat the patient in such a way that cosmic consciousness can find its place. But then, you see, the other side has to be understood. You have to look at something from outside. You cannot look at the eye from outside. The forces which enable us to look at things from outside give us our clear concepts, seeing to it that these clear concepts do not at once become abstraction but that our heart thinks with them. Our concepts must not be confused, but the heart must not be excluded from our abstract thinking. We must function as the whole human being; the heart must always think as well. We must not merely think abstractly about the world but realize that when we send out our thoughts the heart must be there as well. We must understand these forces of the heart which entwine themselves around the thoughts; we must understand once again how to use the staff of Mercury. And this is only possible if we pass over from the moon to Mercury. In connection with the general cultural life, that is what I meant in the lectures dealing with Raphael, for Raphael is the Christian Mercury. If you permeate yourselves with this kind of consciousness you will get the right feeling for your tasks when, as young people today, you enter into medicine. Everywhere in the world there is cropping up the opposite of what ought to happen. It has appeared in a dreadful form recently in the domain of medicine. Forgive me for referring here to an everyday matter, but it is an example of how this opposite tendency is working. I refer to the principle of health insurance. It is the factor of the physician who is excluded here. In Germany there is art expression which conveys the exclusion of the human element in the physician. In truth, it is the physician who heals—not the products of medical science. But this expression suggests that medical science is something that floats around without the human being. The human being does not come into the picture. A rebuff is thereby given to karma. For karma does not work in such a way that it brings two human beings together blindly. Something of karma comes to light in the free choice of one's physician. But in the purely Ahrimanic character of health insurance arrangements, karma is put completely on one side and the human being is exposed to the Ahrimanic powers who fight against karma. When we come together again I will tell you how the Ahrimanic powers are setting out to nullify the karma of man so that they may attain their goal. This element is playing a direct part in such institutions as that of health insurance where individuals cannot always choose their own physician. I believe the expression ‘healing trade’ actually occurs in the law about health insurance. This shows the whole attitude that exists about health insurance and the conception of medicine as a trade. An illness of civilization is emerging symptomatically in our times—an illness that is making its appearance in many other domains, too, showing how urgently the physician's help is needed for its curing. But just where the physician himself is most acutely exposed to this illness of civilization, his real work is completely paralyzed. There is a terrible factor in such things as health insurance. Of course, it has its good side just as other things which crop up in the world to tempt and mislead. They seem plausible and are not displeasing. When the devil appears he always assumes the form of an angel. Anyone who sees the devil as such, in a vision, may be sure that it is not really the devil, for he always appears in angelic form. If the physician himself is exposed to an illness of civilization in its sharpest form, our culture cannot help becoming diseased. Therefore you must watch where your karma places you so that you do not work merely in the sphere of medicine regarded as a trade but in the sphere that is concerned with illness of the social organism. In this direction, please formulate your questions. We will then meet once more tomorrow. I have heard you also have a certain need to hear how you can integrate yourselves into the general Youth Movement. We will still be able to supplement what I have said today but what I did bring today I wanted to bring because I thought that it could be necessary for you to know it and work with it. |
