Foreword
This book, in line with all Rudolf Steiner's courses of
lectures, is an elaboration of certain aspects of the basic
teaching of spiritual science. It describes the potential
inherent in human knowing to take man beyond the sense
perceptible knowledge of Nature into realms of
supersensible experience. It requires, therefore, two
essential prerequisites of the reader: first, that he be
already familiar with that basic teaching itself as it is
contained in such books as
The Philosophy of Freedom,
Theosophy,
Occult Science — An Outline,
and
Knowledge of the Higher Worlds
— all of which are
referred to in this one; and second, that his familiarity with
them shall have reached a point where he has no doubt that what
is contained in them is founded on a conception of man and the
world that satisfies the strictest standards of thought.
Without this, the reader may find himself awash in what may
seem to him a flood of metaphysical speculation in which he can
find no solid ground on which to stand.
But
the solid ground is there. It consists in the fact that all our
knowledge is, after all, nothing but the thoughtful elaboration
of experience; and that thought activity itself is, when
followed through, an indication—one could just as well
say `proof—that behind all sense phenomena is a
reality of being, imperceptible as it may be to the
senses, which can be truly called spiritual. Sense
phenomena alone, and what is often referred to as their bearer,
matter, are neither the sole reality of the world in which we
live nor the means for a full assessment of man as a being of
body, soul and spirit. Sense phenomena are a special form of
spirit. That alone gives them meaning; and without that meaning
which the spirit in man manifesting as thought gives to them,
the world would be for him a chaotic aggregate of meaningless
sensations. He might conceivably live and act instinctively in
such a world, but he could never establish that relation to it
which we call knowledge. But even with the knowledge of sense
phenomena he is still, from an evolutionary point of view, far
from what he can know and become. He has it in him, however, to
advance to the development of higher, more subtle senses, the
germs of which are already latent in his etheric and astral
bodies.
If
this, then, can be the reader's conviction he will find no
difficulty in following the author's fascinating exposition of,
first, the difference between a sense organ and what he
calls a vital organ; and second, the relations between
them and the cosmos out of which man has evolved. Our sense
organs mediate impressions of the outer world; our vital
organs, however, govern the very continuance of life itself. If
a sense organ is damaged or even destroyed we may well go on
living, though so much the poorer in experience; but if a vital
organ is destroyed our life must necessarily come to an end.
Nonetheless, not only were our present sense organs, like the
eye and ear, vital organs, way back in the distant past; but
our vital organs of today, like the lungs and heart, are also
on the way to becoming sense organs of the future. It must
follow, then, that a wholly different conception of the
world, and man's being and activity in it, must arise as a
result. The implications and ramifications of this are the sum
and substance of this book.
On
this basis the author is able to speak not only of the kind of
perception earlier man had before the sense organs had reached
their present maturity, and which gave him a different
relationship to the world; but more particularly of how a
properly trained initiate consciousness of today can, as it
were, use in advance the perceptive powers latent in the heart
and lungs for observations in the spiritual world. In doing so
he not only anticipates what will one day be the general
possession of mankind, but he is able to communicate the
results of his researches in thought forms accessible to
ordinary modern consciousness.
The
transformation of vital organs into sense organs, which will be
possible for the future, will, however, only happen if man has
the will and desire to bring it about. This is the essential
difference between the past and the future; and although man in
general has a long way to go before this change actually takes
place, the important thing is that he is now able to grasp the
logic of it. (This is what made it essential to state so
emphatically the two pre-requisites for reading such a book as
this. Spiritual science is a science; and like all
science it must be learned from the ground up.)
This transformation of the vital organs, therefore, will only
be possible if there is a willingness now, and in the future to
take up the teaching of spiritual science with an open and
unprejudiced mind. It is necessary to say this, for it is all
too easy today to reject out of hand any such extensions of the
senses beyond those accessible to our present perception, and
the instruments adapted to it—even though our
generally accepted concept of evolution must envisage
such a possibility. But there is a blind spot in our
concept which prevents us from seeing that knowing, too,
evolves. Knowing was different in the past. It will be
different again in the future, but we must be able to see the
direction in which that difference lies. Then we shall be able
to do something about it, for we are the knower.
Contrary to popular belief, the wonderful results of
technology today are neither the highest nor the final
achievement of human knowledge. They will disappear as all
material things disappear. What is important is what has
happened to man so that he could come to know the world in such
a way that he can make these things. We have to do here with an
evolution of the knowing capacity itself. Earlier man did not
make such things, though the laws of Nature by which they are
made have lain hidden in phenomena since the dawn of time. But
the conviction dies hard that the sense perceptible world out
there, Nature, is not only nothing but a material process, but
that that is all we can know of it. This has completely cut man
off from any conscious feeling- relationship he once had,
albeit in a more instinctive, half-conscious way, with
the gods, the spiritual world. The knowledge we pride ourselves
on today, because of what we are able to make with it, has both
brought about, and had to be paid for by, the isolation of our
self-consciousness. We no longer have that awareness of the
spirit. If we are to have it again it must be in a new, a
self-conscious way. We are on our own now; and this is at once
an opportunity and a danger. We can, if we will, advance
in full self-consciousness to a collaboration with the gods in
the evolution of the world and ourselves such as was never
possible before; or, by ignoring this opportunity, we can
lay ourselves open to a “take over” by backward
spiritual beings who have ideas of their own about how both we
and the world should evolve. They will be able to use man's
dammed-up, sense-based knowing capacities for their own
purposes, and for all his skills and know-how he will actually
be nothing but their “hewers of wood and drawers of
water.”
The
choice is ours. This is the alternative with which this book
closes; and this, too, is the message of spiritual science, or
anthroposophy.
Alan
Howard
Vancouver, 1984
|