FOREWORD BY MARIE STEINER
The
lectures here published make in their substance a supplement to
what Rudolf Steiner has given us in his book, ‘The Story of My
Life’, and may be felt as forming a whole with it. Delivered
with all the living flow of spoken word and narrative, they
were not designed for a book; but the exceedingly important
matter they contain, and the whole historic context, makes them
a document of inestimable value, and not only for the
Anthroposophist. He indeed learns to see in full light the
conditions and circumstances of that movement to which he has
attached himself; and so gains firm ground under his feet,
through learning to recognize in these events a necessity that
supersedes any sort of justificatory argument. But those people
too, who otherwise know no more than the shallow judgments they
hear uttered, or find printed in some reference book, may also
be grateful for this occasion to acquire a real insight into
the facts. Surely there must be an ever increasing number of
human souls, who will eagerly seize such an opportunity to
learn from personal experience that an answer can be found to
those questions, which stand like sphinx-riddles before the
inner eye, and that the way to the answer can be actually shown
them.
No
ground any longer exists for the eternal re-iteration in every
paper and pamphlet, that the one salvation in mankind's
desperate plight would he the appearance of a universal genius,
one who should master all the multifarious branches of life and
knowledge, co-ordinate and combine them, balance one with
another, and thence new-create a civilization; — and that
the only escape from uncertainty would be some breaking-through
of the boundaries of knowledge, — but that this is
impossible!
For
this genius has been here amongst us; he has broken
through the boundaries of knowledge. His work lies before us,
and bears testimony that he has done so. No word of his,
however intimately uttered, need shun the light; it can be
thrown open to one and all. The moral power, the transcendent
altitude of his whole life and. being shine forth from this
work as luminously as the calm certainty of his all-embracing
knowledge.
Why
was it then that they shrank from no means to block and bar his
way, to render him impotent by calumny, when mere silence no
longer sufficed?
Why? — Because this age will not endure superiority, and
hates it. Because it concedes no right of life to any-thing
that transcends the common, — and thereby plays into the
hands of those powerful organizations, whose interest it is to
let nothing come to light which they themselves are not willing
to give to mankind. The idol of the present day, materialistic
science, is in their eyes more preferable. Those words still
keep their truth, which Goethe dedicated to the Masters of
Knowledge:
‘... What you call Knowing!’
‘Why, who dare give the child its proper name?
‘The few who had some knowledge of these things,
‘And, fool-like, set no guard on their full hearts,
‘Revealed their feelings, visions, to the herd,
‘— These from of old they crucified and burnt.’
No
further explanation is needed for this hatred. It is the hatred
that the world turns upon whatever is higher than itself. This
hatred displays the face and works the works of the World's
Adversary.
But
now, when, the excesses of this hatred can scarcely be further
surpassed; when the great messenger of human liberation is
dead; when the base and selfish motives of the warfare on him
have manifested themselves only too plainly, — there must
now ever more and more come souls, who will desire to see
further, to penetrate through all the rubbish and trace the
process of the spiritual events, discover the source whence
they emanated, and the first steps on the road. Those who are
interested in the historic development of the movement will
find in these pages the information they need, and will at the
same time learn the self-evident explanation and very simple
reason of what arose as a matter of course out of the existing
circumstances: namely, the original association with that
German society of theosophists who were looking about for a
teacher possessed of knowledge. When someone is appealed to,
and the accompanying conditions are accepted, why should he not
go to the aid of those who call upon him? When he is solicited
for guidance on the road, and when he never for a moment
hesitates to make plain what this will mean for those who go
along with him, — that it will mean completely changing
old habits of mind, awaking to the demands of the times,
developing a sense for the progress of evolution and for the
mission of the Western World; — why then should one, who
is secure of his own road, not take compassion on those
who are groping leaderless, and point them the way to the
Divine Leader and to their own liberation?
If
Mrs. Besant, at the most critical moment of her life, when the
ground failed beneath her feet, had not been blinded, all might
yet have turned to good, and she might have found the missing
bridge to the Christ, without needing to manufacture as
substitute the little sham god who has now slipped through her
hands. And with her, thousands in the Theosophical Society
might have trod the road of inner deliverance.
On
the Blavatsky question and its riddles, Rudolf Steiner alone
has thrown light. For him, she meant no kind of stumbling
block; for he saw the positive element in her work and
influence, and knew how to direct this positive element into
channels where, freed from all its aberrations, delusions and
clogs, it could remain a fruitful factor of knowledge, without
working harm. And thus Blavatsky, in her progress as an
individuality, received her due meed of thanks, and had her
Karma lightened. Her own inner self, — all that she was
as honest soul and sturdy force, — will figure greater in
history thus, than if she remained involved with the
spiritualistic phenomena that represent the heavier weighted
side of her Karma. It was difficult to make one's way to what
one felt must be the true, inner core of her being, when one
heard all the marvellous tales told about her by her intimate,
as well as by her distant friends; — and so the present
writer found in those days. Yet one received the impression of
a quite peculiar power and big-ness from merely reading a few
pages of Isis Unveiled or The Secret Doctrine,
which were quite of a different calibre from anything in the
whole collection of the Theosophical Society's writings. The
key to this intricate character was given us by Rudolf Steiner;
and although the reports of the year 1915 are very defective
(for at that time we possessed no professional stenographer in
Dornach), his lectures on this subject — despite their
mutilations — will have to be published, in order to
throw light on these puzzling phenomena.
H.
P. Blavatsky was born in 1881. The centenary of her birthday
falls in the present year; and one may imagine that many
festivals and celebrations in honour of her memory will -be
held by the theosophists in all countries. Blavatsky was a
child of nature, with a temperament of great native vigour. She
had suffered much under the conventionalisms, so foreign to her
nature, of Anglo-American society; and to its representatives
in turn she was merely a phenomenon, a semi-barbarian, not
under-stood by any, the medium through which the border-world
knocked at the door of the fast-closed world of materialism.
What is more, she did not understand herself, and suffered
horribly each time on awaking from states that eluded her
consciousness. Those will do her memory best service, who
interpret her in the light and connection of one who was
involved with the first attempts of the occultists to break
through the enchanted circle of materialism. — Not to let
fall whatever has been accomplished, accompanied though it may
be by mistakes and errors; but to rescue what is positive, and
preserve it for the future; — this is the constant duty
of every occultist who is spiritually mature; and this too is
the light in which one must always understand that first
association on the road, when the Anthroposophical Society kept
company for a while with the Theosophical Society, — down
to the day when Mrs. Besant would no longer tolerate any
thwarting of her own personal aims.
Although Rudolf Steiner tells us in these lectures, that by the
end of its second stage the anthroposophical movement had
outgrown everything which had come over as a legacy from the
Theosophical Society, yet still the fact remains, that the
influx of new generations and of many theosophical members into
our society has brought a constant recurrence of many
previously outgrown and not very pleasing symptoms, which in
the past he had applied himself with all severity to cure. It
shows that people to-day are of the same make and kind as those
who went before them, and that accordingly they must be
expected to go through the same mistakes and the same
nursery-epidemics, — only, unfortunately, with ever
increasing self-assertiveness and greater determination to
live-out their own peculiar bent. What, after all, were the
faults which Rudolf Steiner so sharply censures in these
lectures, — the adulation of Max Seiling (a little local
episode), or Bhagavan Das (a mere whim of the hour), —
compared to many phenomena that have made their appearance in
the last few years? But he picked out such things as symptoms,
to point out whither they lead, to lay bare the causes of these
ever recurring signs of decay, and to show how societies may be
wrecked when such things make their way into the leading
circles. Of this last, he thought in those days there could be
no question amongst us. But he left us too soon alone; and
amongst those who had come too young, too soon to leader-ship,
the old faults — humanly all-too-human — flamed up
with double force.
It
behoves us to come to self-recollection. Let us make
ourselves out no better than we are. There is no need for
shame-faced concealment of our faults; on the contrary; out of
their darkness we must evoke the light that brings
self-knowledge. Communal consciousness is hard to be won. The
common ‘I’ can only grow up strong and firm amongst us on a
soil of vigorous wakefulness, of will to active
knowledge, of courage for truth. These things are
not to be achieved in solitude and secrecy; they must be fought
for and won in community. Honest mutual struggles will do us no
harm, will gain us the respect of all well-wishers. And
ill-wishers may look back and reflect what the Church went
through and displayed in its communal life, notwithstanding all
the strict discipline imposed from without; and what
imperfections, what contradictions to its own ideals had
there to be worked out in life! It will then be seen,
that it is not the leader, not he who gives the impulse
to a movement, who must be held responsible for the faults in
the disciples of his doctrine, but the Species Homo,
which needs many round-about roads and much rising and falling
and oft-renewed climbing, before it can attain at last to its
goal.
Anthroposophy is a way of education. The
Anthroposophical Society certainly presents no model institute
for the living demonstration of anthroposophic ideals. One
might even say that in many respects it is a nursing-home; as
is of course very natural in an age of sick and sorry humanity.
There flock to it the halt and maimed of life, those crippled
under the burden of the age. May we only have nursing-homes for
the physically diseased? Is it not right, that there
should be places, where human-beings may spiritually get
upon their feet again? And this came to pass here in abundance.
Letters there were in more than plenty and words of overflowing
gratitude from people testifying, that through Anthroposophy
and its Teacher they first had learnt to find life again worth
living. — For people to find Anthroposophy, however,
there had to be a society, where the work was carried
on.
And
so the Anthroposophical Society was a workshop; and a vast
amount of work was done in it. Anthroposophy found means to
bring fruit into all the branches of life, artistic,
scientific, and practical, too. During the worst times of
economic crisis, anthroposophists were very largely
unsuccessful in carrying out what they had as an ideal in
sight; but they had doubly strong obstacles to contend with.
One must remember, that the people who flocked into the
Society, and started working outwardly when the Society already
had a name and stood for some-thing in the world, were people
as the modern age has made them, not as the ideal of
Anthroposophy would have them be; and so there were many,
unquestionably, who succumbed again to the temptations and the
practices of the day.
The
young people who had been disappointed with their experiences
in the organized ‘Youth-Movements’ and by what they failed to
find there, not Only found here an answer to the
problems that perplexed them, and not only sought to
satisfy their aspirations in this new community
Anthroposophy, but they also brought their
own habits into the Society, — including much that
they might have left behind them, to start in Anthroposophy
afresh.
And
so the Anthroposophical Society cannot yet be a model
institute; it remains a place of education. — But does
not mankind need places of education too, in the wider human
sense, if it is to move onwards to a better future?
Turn the question then which way we will, the Society is a
necessity. It must educate itself; and it must afford the
possibility of being a place of education for mankind. The
life-forces that have been laid in it, have strength to
per-form this work, if people come together in it who are
strong and capable and devoted, — people who know, that
they must join together to work as a community for mankind in a
larger sense, not to shut themselves off and indulge only in
self-culture, — who know, that it would be but a
thankless return to take what is given as a saving anchor for
oneself alone; who know, that one takes with it also the
obligation to pass this anchor on to others whose life's ship
is in distress.
(1931.)
|