Introduction
In the
non-anthroposophical world the Gospel of St. Mark is usually
accorded relatively little attention. It is of course widely
recognized as the earliest of the canonical Gospels, as it is
also the shortest. Its historical importance is therefore not
denied, especially as the source of much that is included in
the more widely read Gospel of Matthew, the longest of the
four. But its distinctive features are nowhere given as much
importance as by Rudolf Steiner, who indeed devoted many
lectures to various aspects of it
(Background to the Gospel of St. Mark)
before he embarked on the remarkable
ten lectures given in Basel in September 1912 now being
published in a third English edition. In the last of these
lectures he tells us that he had now brought to a completion
the program he had set himself many years earlier when he
began his work on the Gospels with his many lectures in
different cities on the ever popular Gospel of St. John. And
this cycle was indeed to be the last he was to give on any of
the four Gospels, the so-called Fifth Gospel of 1913 being of
an entirely different nature.
From one
point of view the Mark Gospel may be thought of as the most
deeply esoteric of all, concerned as it was so exclusively
with the cosmic Christ, Christ as a spiritual being who
manifested Himself on earth through the body of Jesus of
Nazareth, whereas John in his Gospel spoke of Him as the
Divine Logos, the second person of the Trinity, a concept
that presumably lay beyond the possibilities open to Mark
through his particular initiation. Again in the last lecture
of this cycle Steiner tells us how it happened that Mark came
to perceive the Christ in His cosmic aspect. Mark, he tells
us, was a pupil of Peter, who had come to his own
understanding of the Christ through the inspiration of the
Holy Spirit at the first Whitsuntide, which enabled him to
perceive in clairvoyance the entire Mystery of Golgotha
— although after his denial of Christ he had not been
able to participate at all in the external events. Peter was
able to awaken subsequently the same knowledge, the same
memory, as Steiner calls it, of what he had not
experienced, in his personal pupils, among whom was Mark.
Mark then made his way to Alexandria in Egypt, where he was
able to find “the outer environment that enabled him to
give his Gospel the particular coloring it needed.” In
Alexandria he could absorb all that was to be found in the
pagan gnosis, and he deeply experienced in his soul the
corruption into which the world had fallen —
exemplified, most particularly, in Egypt. It was this
experience that led him to perceive so clearly the
significance of the appearance of Christ Jesus on earth.
Almost
nothing of the depths of the Mark Gospel can be grasped
through an ordinary superficial reading of it, nor have
biblical commentators, using their traditional methods within
their traditional framework, been able to throw much light on
it. For this Gospel, above all, someone like Rudolf Steiner
was needed. Time and again Steiner draws attention to the
wonderfully artistic composition of the Gospel, possible only
to a Lion initiate like St. Mark. Especially in the last
chapters of the Gospel, particularly the short twenty-verse
conclusion in the final chapter that covers the whole period
following the resurrection, every word counts, and nothing is
left unsaid that from Mark's point of view was needed. Yet
the usual view is that Mark was simply anxious to finish his
book as expeditiously as possible since in describing the
resurrection he had come to the end of what he wished to say.
Fortunately, Steiner goes over the last chapter in great
detail, and shows also how in the two previous chapters all
manner of secrets were being revealed about Christ Himself
and the future of mankind once the Christ Impulse had entered
the world evolution. If we follow closely what Rudolf Steiner
was trying to show to us, how to read this Gospel,
it is impossible not to feel how each word, each episode, is
carefully chosen by the evangelist to bring out the cosmic
greatness of Christ, and at the same time the unspeakable
suffering and loneliness of Him whom he calls the Son of Man,
who is here, as nowhere else in Steiner's lectures,
distinguished so clearly from the cosmic Christ-Being who
dwelt for three years within the three sheaths of Jesus of
Nazareth. It is only in the Mark Gospel that we are told of
"the young man who fled away naked." This is the youthful
Christ Impulse which thereafter reappears only once, in the
form of the young man seen by Mary Magdalene and the other
women at the sepulcher on Easter morning.
It goes
without saying that no biblical commentator has ever been
able to make sense of this "young man," who has even
sometimes been identified by them as the writer of the Gospel
himself. From what Steiner says it would seem that, of the
four evangelists, only Mark perceived this being
clairvoyantly and understood its significance, as it was Mark
also who grasped the full poignancy of the scene in the
Garden of Gethsemane when the disciples who had vowed to
experience the Mystery of Golgotha with their Master could
not remain awake, leaving Christ Jesus to undergo it alone.
Immediately afterward in the Mark Gospel comes the betrayal
and the flight of the disciples, following which the
“young man,” the Christ Impulse, also abandons
Jesus of Nazareth, who as His last words from the Cross, as
recorded by Mark and Matthew, was to utter the cry “My
God, my God why has thou forsaken me?,” words whose
true meaning is here revealed in all its depth by Steiner.
The cosmic Christ “hovered” over Jesus at the
Crucifixion and surely experienced it, even though it was
Jesus, the Son of Man, the highest ideal of man, as Steiner
calls Him here, whom men should have revered as their highest
ideal instead of spitting on Him and reviling Him, who was
nailed to the Cross and died on it. Thus the divine being,
the Christ, who could not as a divine being of His exalted
rank actually die, could nevertheless experience death
through the link He had forged with the three sheaths of
Jesus during the three years since the Baptism, when He had
lived in them as their “I.”
This at least
is the picture Steiner presents in this wonderful cycle, and
not the least of the tasks he left to us is how we can
reconcile what he said elsewhere about the necessity from a
cosmic point of view for an immortal god to experience death
as a man, with the very clear picture he presents here, a
picture which, as he said, completed what he had undertaken
to do when he first started to lecture on the Gospels. And we
can never be sufficiently grateful for the fact that he was
able to give this cycle before the disorders in the spiritual
world that accompanied the first World War prevented him, as
he was to reveal later, from ever giving any more cycles
devoted entirely to one or the other of the Gospels.
Stewart C. Easton
Kinsale, Ireland
1985
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