Lecture II
Dornach, September 24, 1921
Yesterday I
spoke of how we find within the human being a kind of source
of destruction. I showed that as long as we remain within
ordinary consciousness we retain memories only of the
impressions of the world. We gain experience of the world,
and we have our experiences through the senses, through the
intellect, through the effects generally upon our life of
soul. Later we are able to call up again our memory of the
afterimage of what we have experienced. We carry as our inner
life these afterimages of sense experiences.
It is indeed as
though we had within us a mirror, but one that works
differently from the ordinary spatial mirror. An ordinary
mirror reflects what is in front of it, whereas the living
mirror we carry within us reflects in quite another way. It
reflects in the course of time the sense impressions we
receive, causing one or another impression to be reflected
back again into consciousness, and so we have a memory of a
past experience.
If we break a
spatial mirror, we see behind the mirror; we see into a realm
we do not see when the mirror is intact. Correspondingly, if
we carry out inner exercises of the soul, we come, as I have
often suggested, to something like a breaking of the inner
mirror. The memories can, as it were, cease for a brief time
— for how long a time depends upon our free will
— and we can see more deeply into our inner being. As
we look more deeply into our inner being behind the
memory-mirror, then what I characterized yesterday as a kind
of source of destruction meets our gaze.
There must be
such a source of destruction within us, for only in such a
source can the I of man solidify itself. It is actually a
source for the solidification and hardening of the I. As I
said yesterday, if this hardening of the I, if this egoity,
is carried out into social life, evil arises, evil in the
life and actions of human beings.
You may see
from this how truly complicated is the life into which man is
placed. What within the human being has a good purpose,
without which we could not cultivate our I, must never be
allowed outside. The evil man carries it into the outer
world; the good man keeps it inside him. If it miscarried
outside, it becomes wrong, it becomes evil. If it is kept
within, it is the very thing we need to give the human I its
rightful strength.
There is really
nothing in the world that would not, in its place, have a
beneficial significance. We would be thoughtless and rash if
we did not have this source within us, for this source
manifests itself in such a way that we can experience in it
something we would never be able to experience in the outer
world. In the outer world we see things materially.
Everything we see, we see materially, and following the
custom of present-day science we speak of the conservation of
matter, the indestructibility of actual matter. In this
source of destruction about which I spoke yesterday matter is
truly annihilated. Matter is thrown back into its
nothingness, and then we can allow, within this nothingness,
the good to arise. The good can arise if, instead of our
instincts and impulses, which are bound to work toward the
cultivation of egoity, we pour into this source of
destruction, by means of a moral inclination of soul, all
moral and ethical ideals.Then something new arises. Then in
this very source of destruction the seeds of future worlds
arise. Then we, as human beings, take part in the coming into
being of worlds.
When we speak,
as one can find in my
Outline of Occult Science,
of how our earth will one day face annihilation, and of how
through all kinds of intermediate states of transformation
the Jupiter existence will evolve, we must say the following.
In the Jupiter existence there will be only the new creation
that already is being formed today in the human being out of
moral ideals, within this source of destruction. It is also
formed out of his anti-moral impulses, out of what works as
evil from his egoity. Hence the Jupiter existence will be a
struggle between what man on earth is already bringing to
birth by carrying his moral ideals into his inner chaos and
what arises with the cultivation of egoity as the anti-moral.
When we look into our deepest selves,therefore, we are gazing
upon a region where matter is thrown back into its
nothingness.
I went on to
indicate how matters stand with the other side of human
existence, with the side where sense phenomena are spread out
around us. We behold these sense phenomena spread around us
like a tapestry, and we apply our intellect to combine and
relate them in order to discover within these sense phenomena
laws that we then call the laws of nature. With ordinary
consciousness, however, we never penetrate through this
tapestry of the senses. With ordinary consciousness we
penetrate the tapestry of sense impressions just as little as
we penetrate with ordinary consciousness the memory-mirror
within. With a developed consciousness, however, one does
penetrate it, and the human beings of ancient Oriental wisdom
penetrated it with a consciousness informed by instinctive
vision. They beheld that world in which egoity cannot hold
its own in consciousness.
We enter this
world every time we go to sleep. There the egoity is dimmed,
because beyond the tapestry of the senses lies the world
where, to begin with, the I-power, as it develops for human
existence, has no place at all. Hence the world conception of
the ancient Oriental, who developed a peculiar longing to
live behind the sense phenomena, used to speak of Nirvana, of
the dispersing of the egoity.
Yesterday we
drew attention to the great contrast between East and West.
At one time the Oriental cultivated all that man longs to
behold behind the sense phenomena, and he cultivated the
vision into a spiritual world that is composed not of atoms
and molecules but of spiritual beings. This world was present
for the ancient Oriental world conception as visible reality.
In our day the Oriental, particularly in Asia but also in
other parts of the world, is living in the decadent stages of
development of this inner yearning to reach the world behind
the sense phenomena, while the human being of the West has
cultivated his egoity, has cultivated all that we have
characterized as the hardening and strengthening taking place
within the source of destruction in man's inner being.
In saying this
we are already on the way to suggesting what it is that must
necessarily be absorbed into man's consciousness, now and in
the near future. If the pure intellectualism that has been
developing since the middle of the fifteenth century were to
continue, humanity would fall entirely into decline, for with
the help of intellectualism one will never penetrate beyond
either the memory-mirror or the tapestry of the world of the
senses spread out before us. Man must, however, acquire once
more a consciousness of these worlds. He must acquire a
consciousness of these worlds if Christianity is again to be
able to become a truth for him, for Christianity actually is
not a truth for him to-day. We can see this most clearly when
we look at the modern development of the idea of Christ
— if indeed modern times may be said to have any such
development at all. The truth is that for modern man in the
present stage of evolution it is impossible to arrive at an
idea of Christ as long as he makes use only of the concepts
and ideas that he has been cultivating as natural science
since the fifteenth century. In the nineteenth and beginning
of the twentieth centuries he has become incapable of forming
a true idea of Christ.
These things
must be regarded in the following way. The human being
beholds the world all around and uses the combining faculty
of his intellect, which he now has as his modern
consciousness, to build up natural laws. Following a line of
thought that is perfectly possible for the consciousness of
the present day, he comes to the point at which it is
possible for him to say, “This world is permeated with
thought, for the laws of nature are apprehended in thoughts
and are actually themselves the thoughts of the world.”
If one follows the laws of nature to the stage at which one
is bound to apply them to the coming into existence of man
himself as physical being, one has to say, “Within that
world which we survey with our ordinary consciousness,
beginning with sense perception and going on as far as the
memory-mirror, a spiritual element is living.” One must
actually be ill, pathological, if, like the ordinary
atheistic materialist, one is not willing to acknowledge this
spiritual element. We live within this world that is given
for ordinary consciousness; we emerge into it as physical man
through physical conception and physical birth. What is
observable within the physical world can only be contemplated
inadequately if one fails to see as its foundation a
universal spiritual element.
We are born as
physical beings from physical stock. When we are born as
little babies, we are actually, for outer, physical
perception, quite similar to a creature of nature. Out of
such a creature of nature, which is basically in a kind of
sleeping condition, inner spiritual faculties gradually
develop. These inner spiritual faculties will arise in the
course of future evolution. If we learn to trace back these
emerging spiritual faculties in the same way that we trace
the gradual growth of the limbs, we find that we must look
for their source beyond birth and conception. Then one comes
to the point of thinking in a living and spiritual way about
the world, whereas before, in one's consideration of outer
nature, one built up only abstract laws. One comes, in other
words, to an affirmation of what may be called the Father
God.
It is very
significant that scholasticism in the Middle Ages maintained
that knowledge obtainable by ordinary observation of the
world through ordinary human reason included knowledge of the
Father God. One can even say, as I have often expressed it,
that if anyone sets out to analyze this world as it is given
for ordinary consciousness and does not arrive at gathering
up all the natural laws in what is called the Father God, he
must actually be ill, pathological in someway. To be an
atheist means to be ill, as I have said here once before.
With this
ordinary consciousness, however, one cannot go farther than
this Father God. This far one can go with ordinary
consciousness, but no further. It is characteristic of our
times when such a significant theologian as Adolf von Harnack
[ Note 5 ]
says that Christ the
Son does not really belong in the Gospels, that the Gospels
are the message of the Father, and that Christ Jesus actually
has a place in the Gospels only insofar as He brought the
message of the Father God. Here you may see quite clearly how
with a certain inevitability this modern thinking leads
people to recognize, even in theology, only the Father God
and to understand the Gospels themselves as containing no
more than the message of the Father God. In the sense of this
theology, Christ has worth only insofar as He appeared in the
world and brought to human beings the true teaching
concerning the Father God.
Two things are
implied in this. First, the belief that the message of the
Father God cannot be found by an ordinary study of the world.
The Scholastics still maintained that it could. They did not
imagine that the Gospels were to speak of the Father God;
they assumed that the Gospels were to speak of God the Son.
That people can come forward with the opinion that the
Gospels actually speak only of the Father God is proof that
theology, too, has fallen into that way of thinking which has
been cultivated as the peculiarly Western method.
In early
Christian times until about the third or fourth century A.D.,
when there was still a good deal of Oriental wisdom in
Christianity, human beings occupied themselves intently with
the question of the distinction between the Father God and
God the Son. One could say that these fine distinctions
between the Father God and the Son God, which so engaged
people's attention in the early Christian centuries, under
the influence of Oriental wisdom, have long ceased to have
meaning for modern man, who has been occupied in cultivating
egoity under the influences I described yesterday.
A certain
untruth has thus found its way into modern religious
consciousness. What man experiences inwardly, through which
he arrives at his analysis and synthesis of the world, is the
Father God. From tradition, he has God the Son. The Gospels
speak of Him, tradition speaks of Him. Man has the Christ; he
wants to acknowledge Him but through inner experience no
longer actually has the Christ. He therefore takes what he
should apply actually only to the Father God and
transfers it to the Christ God. Modern theology does not
actually have the Christ at all; it has only the Father, but
it calls the Father “Christ,” because at one time
it received the tradition of the Christ being in history, and
one wants to be Christian, of course. If one were honest, one
would be unable to call oneself a Christian in modern
times.
All this is
altogether different when we go further East. Already in
Eastern Europe it is different. Take the Russian philosopher
of whom I have frequently spoken — Soloviev.
[ Note 6 ]
You find in him an attitude of
soul that has become a philosophy and speaks with full
justification, with an inner justification, of a distinction
between the Father and the Son. Soloviev is justified in
speaking in this way, because for him both the Father and the
Christ are experiences. The human being of the West makes no
distinction between God the Father and Christ. If you are
inwardly honest with yourselves, you will feel that the
moment you wish to make a distinction between the Father God
and Christ the two become confused. For Soloviev such a thing
is impossible. Soloviev experiences each separately, and so
he still has a sense for the battles, the spiritual battles,
that were fought during the first Christian centuries in
order to bring to human consciousness the distinction between
the Father God and God the Son.
This, however,
is the very thing to which modern man must come again. There
must again be truth in calling ourselves Christians. One must
not make a pretense of worshipping the Christ, attributing to
Him only the qualities of the Father God. To avoid this,
however, one must present truths such as I indicated
yesterday. That is the only way we can come to the twofold
experience, the experience of the Father and the experience
of the Son.
It will be
necessary to change the whole form of our consciousness. The
abstract form of consciousness with which modern man is
raised, and which actually does not permit the recognition of
more than the Father God, will have to be replaced by a much
more concrete life of consciousness. Needless to say, one
cannot present such things before the world at large today in
the way I have described them to you here, for people have
not yet been prepared sufficiently by spiritual science and
anthroposophy. There is always the possibility, however, of
pointing out even to modern man how he carries in his inner
being a source of destruction and how in the outer world
there is something in which the I of man is, as it were,
submerged, where it cannot hold itself fast — just as
in earlier times people were told about the Fall of Man and
similar things. One must only find the right form for these
things, a form that would enable them to find their way into
ordinary consciousness — even as the teaching of the
Fall of Man used to give instruction concerning a spiritual
foundation of the world, a form that would have a different
authority from our teaching concerning the Father God.
Our modern
science will have to become permeated with ways of looking
such as those we have expounded here. Our science wishes to
recognize in the inner being of man only the laws of nature.
In this source of destruction, however, of which I have often
spoken here, the laws of nature are united with the moral
laws; there, natural law and moral law are one. Within our
inner being matter, and with it all the laws of nature, is
annihilated. Material life, together with all the laws of
nature, is thrown back into chaos, and out of the chaos a new
nature is able to arise, saturated with the moral impulses we
ourselves lay into it. As we have said, this source of
destruction is below our memory-mirror. If we let our gaze
penetrate far below this memory-mirror, there at last we
observe what actually is always within the human being. A
human being is not changed by knowledge: he merely comes to
know what he is like, what his normal condition is. Man must
learn to reflect on what he is and how he lives.
When we are
able to penetrate into this inner core of evil in the human
being and are able also to become conscious of how into this
inner evil, where matter is destroyed and thrown back into
its chaos, moral impulses can find their way, then we have
really found in ourselves the beginning of spiritual
existence. Then we perceive the creating spirit within us,
for when we behold moral laws working upon matter that has
been thrown back into chaos, we are beholding a real activity
of the spirit taking place within us in a natural way. We
become conscious of the concrete, spiritual activity that is
within us and that is the seed for future worlds.
What can we
compare with what is announced in our inner being? We cannot
compare it with what our senses at first convey to us of
outer nature. We can compare it only with what another human
being communicates when he speaks to us. Indeed, it is more
than a metaphor when we say that what takes place in our
inner being speaks to us when moral and anti-moral impulses
unite themselves with the chaos inside us. There actually is
within us something that speaks to us. There we have
something that is not mere allegory or symbol but actual
fact. What we can hear outwardly with our ears is a language
toned down for the earthly world, but within our inner being
a language is spoken that goes out beyond the earth, because
it speaks out of what contains the seeds of future worlds.
There we truly penetrate into what must be called “the
inner word.” In the weakened words that we speak or
hear in conversation with our fellow men, hearing and
speaking are separate and distinct, whereas in our inner
being, when we dive down below the memory-mirror into the
inner chaos, we have a substantiality where speaking becomes
at the same time hearing. Hearing and speaking are once more
united. The inner word speaks in us, the inner word is heard
in us.
We have at the
same time entered a realm where it no longer makes sense to
speak of subjective and objective. When you hear another
human being, when he speaks words to you that you perceive
with your sense of hearing, you know that this being of
another person is outside you, but you must give yourself up,
must surrender yourself, as it were, in order to perceive the
being of another person in what you hear him saying. On the
other hand, you know that the actual word, the audible word,
is not merely something subjective but is something placed
into the world. Hence we find that even with the toned-down
words that we hear and speak in our conversation with other
human beings, the distinction between subjective and
objective loses meaning. We stand with our subjectivity
within objectivity, and objectivity works in us and with us
in that we perceive. It is the same when we dive down to the
inner word. It is not merely an inner word; it is at the same
time something objective. It is not our inner being that
speaks: our inner being is merely the stage upon which speaks
the world.
It is similar
for one who has insight to see, behind the tapestry of the
senses, a spiritual world, a world wherein spiritual beings
of the higher hierarchies rule and weave. To begin with, he
perceives these beings through an imagination; for his
vision, however, they become permeated with inner life in
that now he hears the Word, apparently sounding to him
through himself but in reality from out of the world.
By means of
love and devotion man therefore penetrates the tapestry of
the senses and sees beyond; and the beings who reveal
themselves to him when he thus offers up his own being in
full devotion — these beings he comes to perceive with
the help of what he recognizes in his inner being as inner
word. We grow together with the outer world. The outer world
begins to resound cosmically, as it were, when the inner word
is awakened.
What I have
been describing to you exists today in every human being, but
he has no knowledge of it and therefore no awareness, no
consciousness of it. He must first grow into such a
knowledge, into such an awareness. When we learn to recognize
the world with the ordinary consciousness that provides us
with our intellectual concepts, we really come to recognize
only the passing and the past. When we behold in the right
way that with which our intellect provides us, we basically
have a view back upon a world that is passing away. We can,
however, find the Father God with the intellect, as I have
said. What sort of consciousness,then, do we develop in
relation to the Father God? The consciousness that the Father
God lies at the foundation of a world revealing itself to our
intellect in the course of passing away.
Yes, it is
indeed so — since the middle of the fifteenth century
man has developed through his intellect a special faculty for
studying and observing what is perishing in the world. We
analyze and test the world-corpse with our intellectual,
scientific knowledge. And theologians such as Adolph Harnack,
who hold to the Father God alone, are really expounders of
that part of the world that is perishing and that will pass
away with the earth and disappear. They are backward-pointing
individuals.
How is it then,
finally, for a person who has entered so much into the spirit
of what from childhood has been crammed into him as the
modern natural scientific way of thinking? He learns that out
there in the world are outer phenomena that arise and pass
away but that matter persists, matter is the indestructible
thing, and that if the earth comes to an end matter will
never be destroyed. Certainly, he is told, a time will come
when the earth will be one vast cemetery, but this cemetery
will be composed of the very same atoms and molecules, or at
least the same atoms, as are already there today. One thus
applies all one's attention to what is perishing, and even
when studying what is unfolding, one really studies only how
what is perishing plays into what is unfolding.
It would never
be possible for an Oriental to participate in this; we can
see this even in the European Orient, in Eastern Europe, in
the subdued philosophical feeling of Soloviev. He does not
bring it to expression clearly — at least as clearly as
it will have to be expressed in general consciousness in the
future — but it is evident that Soloviev has still
enough of the Oriental in him to see everywhere, within what
is perishing, crumbling, dissolving into chaos, what is
unfolding anew, the birth of what shall be in the future.
If we wish to
see the reality, the actuality, we must envision it in the
following way. All that we see with our senses, all that we
also see of other human beings with our senses, will no
longer exist one day; whatever makes itself known to eye,
ear, and so on, will at some time in the future cease to be.
Heaven and earth will pass away, for what we see of the stars
by means of our senses also belongs to the things that are
transient. Heaven and earth will pass away, but the inner
word that is formed in the inner chaos of the human being, in
the source of destruction, will live on after heaven and
earth are no longer there; it will live on just as the seed
of this year's plant will live on in the plant of next year.
In the inner being of man are the seeds of world-futures. And
if into these seeds human beings receive the Christ, then
heaven and earth may pass away, but the Logos, the Christ,
cannot pass away. Man bears in his inner being what will one
day exist when all he sees around him will have ceased to
be.
He must be able
to say to himself: I look up to the Father God. The Father
God lies at the foundation of the world that I can see with
my senses. The world of the senses is His revelation, but it
is nonetheless a perishing world, and it will drag the human
being down with it if he is completely absorbed in it, if he
is able to develop a consciousness only of the Father God.
Man would then return to the Father God; he would be unable
to evolve any further. There is also a new world unfolding,
however, and it takes its beginning from man himself. When
man ennobles his ethical ideals through the Christ
consciousness, through the Christ impulse, when he forms his
ethical ideals as they should be formed through the fact that
the Christ has come to earth, then something comes to life in
the chaos within him, seed is sown for the future, which is
now not a perishing but an unfolding world.
One must have a
strong feeling for the perishing and the unfolding worlds.
One must feel how there is in nature a perpetual dying.
Nature is colored, so to speak, by this death. In contrast to
this, however, there is also in nature a continual unfolding,
a continual coming to birth. This does not color nature in a
way visible to the senses; yet if we approach nature with
open hearts it is perceptible there.
We look out
into nature and see the colors, all the colors of the
spectrum, from the red at one end to the violet at the other,
with all the shades in between. If we were now to mix these
colors in a certain way — make them “color”
one another — they would receive life. They would
together become the so-called flesh color
[Inkarnat],
the color that emanates from man. When
we look at nature, we are looking in a certain sense at the
outspread colors of the rainbow, the sign and symbol of the
Father God. If we look at man, however, it is the flesh color
that speaks out of the inner being of man, for in man all the
colors interpenetrate, thus taking on life, becoming living
in their interpenetration. When we turn to a corpse, however,
this power to take on life is entirely absent. There, that
which is man is thrown back again into the rainbow, into the
creation of the Father God. For the source of what makes the
rainbow into the flesh color, making it into a living unity,
man must look into his inner being.
Yesterday and
today I have tried to lead you, perhaps in a complicated way,
to an understanding of this inner being of man in its true
significance. I have shown you how outer matter is thrown
back into nothingness, into chaos, so that the spirit may
become newly creative. If one looks at this new creativity,
one realizes that the Father God works in matter, bringing it
to its completion (see drawing below,
bright). Matter confronts us in the outer world in the
greatest variety of ways, so that it is visible to us. Within
our inner being, however, this matter is thrown back into its
nothingness and then permeated with pure spiritual being,
with our moral ideals or anti-moral ideas (red). There new
life springs up.
The world must
appear to us in its double aspect. We see first the Father
God, creating what is outwardly visible; we see how what is
outwardly visible comes to an end in man's inner being, where
it is thrown back into chaos. We must feel intensely how this
world, the world of the Father God, comes to its end; only
then will we be able to reach an inner understanding of the
Mystery of Golgotha. It will become clear to us through this
how the very thing that comes to an end, the creation of the
Father God, is endowed with life once more by God the Son; a
new beginning is made.
Everywhere in
the Western world it can be seen how since the fifteenth
century there has been a tendency to study and investigate
only the perishing, the corpse-like part of nature, which is
all that is accessible to the intellect. All so-called
education or culture
[Bildung]
has been formed under
the influence of a science that concerns itself only with
what is dead. This kind of culture is directly opposed to
real Christianity. Real Christianity must have a feeling for
what is living but must also be able to separate this feeling
of what is reviving from what is passing away. Hence the most
important idea that must be connected with the Mystery of
Golgotha, is the idea of the Risen Christ, the Christ Who has
vanquished death. What matters is to comprehend that the most
important idea is that of Christ Who passes through death and
rises again. Christianity is not merely a religion of
salvation; the Oriental religions were also that.
Christianity is a religion of resurrection, a religion that
awakens again to life what would otherwise be nothing but
matter crumbling away into nothingness.
Out in the
cosmos we have the crumbling away of matter
in the moon, and in the sun we have a
perpetual coming into being, forever new and fresh. Seen
spiritually, seen through spiritual vision — when we
get beyond ordinary sense perception and reach the point
where Imagination is active — we can see in the moon a
continuous process: it is continuously splintering and
scattering itself abroad. There, where the moon is situated,
its matter splinters and disperses like dust into the world.
The matter of the moon is perpetually being gathered from its
environment and then splintered and scattered (see drawing, above). If one looks at the moon
in the consciousness of Imagination, one sees a continuous
convergence of matter in the place where the moon is; it
gathers there, and then it splinters and is scattered like
dust into the world. The moon is actually seen like-this
(drawing, below): first a circle, then
a smaller, narrower circle, becoming ever narrower until the
circle becomes the moon itself. Then it dissolves, splinters;
it is strewn out over the entire world. In the moon, matter
cannot tolerate a center. Matter concentrates toward the
center of the moon but cannot tolerate it;it stops short
there and disperses like cosmic dust. It is only to ordinary,
sensory vision that the moon appears peaceful.It is not
peaceful. It is continuously gathering matter together and
scattering it.
When we come to
the sun, we find it is all quite different. Already in
Imagination we are able to see how matter does not splinter
in this way at all; true, it does approach the center, but
then it begins to receive life in the rays of the sun that
stream out from the center. It does not splinter and
disperse; it becomes living and spreads out life from the
center in every direction. Together with this life it
develops astrality. In the moon there is no astrality; there
the astrality is destroyed. In the sun, astrality unites
itself with all that streams forth. The sun is in truth
something that is permeated with inner life, where the center
is not only tolerated but has a fructifying influence. In the
center of the sun lives the cosmic fructifying activity. In
the contrast between sun and moon we thus see a cosmic
manifestation of two opposite processes: in the moon matter
is thrown back into chaos, while in the sun it is perpetually
unfolding, springing and welling up with renewed life.
When we dive
down into our inner being, we look into our inner chaos, into
our own moon nature. That is the inner moon. Matter is
destroyed there, as in the outer world it is destroyed only
where the moon is. Then, however, the radiance of the sun
penetrates our senses; the sun's radiance enters our inner
moon nature. The matter inwardly dissolving there into dust
is renewed by the sun's radiance. Here, in the inner being of
man, matter is continuously falling under the moon influence,
and just as continuously man absorbs through his senses the
radiance of the sun (see drawing, left). Such is the
relationship in which we stand to the cosmos, and so one must
have the capacity to perceive these two opposite activities
in the cosmos: the moon nature directed toward splintering
and scattering, and the quickening, life-giving radiance of
the sun.
Through both
these experiences one comes to behold, in what is splintering
and crumbling to dust, the world of the Father God, which had
to be there until such time as the world changed into the
world of God the Son, which basically has its physical source
in what is sun-like in the world.What is of the moon nature
and the sun nature relate to one another as Father God to Son
God.
During the
early Christian centuries these things were seen
instinctively. Now they must be known again with full
presence of mind if the human being wishes to be able to say
of himself in all honesty: I am a Christian. This is what I
wished to present to you today.
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