VI
In looking back at the
considerations set forth here during the last few days,
we shall see, on the one hand, standing there before our soul
the relations existing between the individual man and the
universe, and, on the other, the relations existing between a
single human being living at a certain time and mankind's whole
earthly development.
Today I should like to round out these considerations by adding
a few thoughts. You will have inferred from what was said that
the human being, in ancient times preceding the Mystery
of Golgotha, stood much closer than we do today to
outward nature, to the external world. This statement
goes counter to the present-day belief that we, by means of our
science, stand extremely close to nature. We do nothing of the
kind. We have intellectual thoughts on nature drawn only from
external observation, but we no longer
experience nature.
Had
the human being remained dependent on the spiritual element in
nature, he would not have become the free being into which he
developed during the recent stages of historical evolution. He
would not have attained his full ego-consciousness.
If
today we look into our own self, into that which we carry
within us as the memory images of things experienced by us
previously, what do we find in ourselves (and rightfully so)?
We find our ego with all its experiences. When ancient
man, living several millennia before the Mystery of Golgotha,
looked into himself, he did not find his ego. He did not say:
“I have experienced this or that ten or twenty years
ago.” Just by means of his memory, it was clear to him
that he had to say: “the Gods let me have this or
that experience.” And he did not say: “the
ego within me had this or that experience,” but:
“the God within me had the experience.” It
was just because the human being participated spiritually, by
means of his physical body, his etheric body, his astral body,
in the processes of nature outside of himself, just because he
stood in a closer, more intimate relationship to nature,
he could say: “The God within me experiences the
world.”
Today man acquires a knowledge of nature by means of his
intellect. His knowledge is concerned exclusively with
dead nature. Thus he has become able to speak of
himself, out of his innermost feeling, as an ego; to be a free
ego-being.
This was felt with especial strength by Paul when passing
through the event of Damascus. For Paul, before passing through
the event of Damascus, was an initiate in the sense of ancient
initiation. He had learned in the Semitic wisdom-schools of
those days that the God Whom one might justifiably call the
Christ could be seen only in pre-earthly existence. This
he had been told in the wisdom-schools.
The
disciples and pupils of the Christ, however, whom he came to
know, made the following assertion: “The Christ has dwelt
among us within the man Jesus of Nazareth. He was here on
earth. While we were His contemporaries, we experienced
Him not only in our memory going back to a pre-earthly
existence, but here on earth itself.” And Paul answered
out of his initiatory knowledge: “That is impossible, for
the Christ can be seen only in pre-earthly
existence.”
And
he was an unbeliever persecuting Christianity until the vision,
the imagination of Damascus revealed this to him: The Christ
lives now in connection with the earth. Then he, Paul, coined
the expression which has since become so significant for
inner Christianity: “Not I, but the Christ in
me.”
Man
can recognize his ego in a natural way. He simply needs to look
into himself. But in order to reach God anew, he must unite
himself, in full consciousness, with the Mystery of Golgotha
and say to himself: “the Christ in me.”
The
men of ancient times have said: “We were together with
the Christ, and hence with God the Father, before
descending to earth.” Now they had to say: “the
Christ is on earth.” Physically,
Christ was on earth during the Mystery of Golgotha.
Spiritually He has, since the Mystery of Golgotha,
remained united with all men on earth.
Such knowledge is also contained in Christianity. We are told
that the Christ revealed to man that the Kingdom of Heaven has
come near. Yet just the interpretation of this word shows
clearly that the human beings, although outwardly
believing, are inwardly unbelieving. You need only
consider what many modern theologians have to say about this
coming near of the Kingdom of Heaven. They say: “Well, in
this respect the Christ depended on the judgment of his age.
Then people believed that the earth would become more
spiritual at a certain time. Here the Christ was
mistaken.”
It
is not the Christ, however, Who was mistaken. Human beings were
mistaken. They have interpreted these words in such a way as
though the Kingdom of Heaven, by coming near, would make the
grapes grow ten times larger and let the earth overflow with
milk and honey. Such was not the meaning of what the Christ
said. The Christ spoke of the Kingdom of the Spirit which He
had brought near. It is not allowable to say: “What the
Christ told us was a mistake. Today we must think
differently.” Instead of this we should ask ourselves:
“How can I understand what the Christ has
said?”
Since the Mystery of Golgotha, it has indeed become more and
more necessary for us to find the spiritual within the earthly
and perceive the truth of the saying: “The spiritual
worlds are descended to the earth.” They are
descended. We need only to look for the path upon which they
can be found. In order that we find something of that which
leads towards this path, I would like to discuss once more
certain points that are apt to bring about a better
comprehension of these matters.
In
those ancient times when men, in their fifties, felt the
paralysis of their physical bodies setting in, it was still
possible to recognize individual destinies by means of the
stars. Since then, every sort of astrological calculation has
become the practice of amateurs. The ancient human being felt
himself related to the transformation of his physical body into
the earthly element. But this transformation of the physical
body into the earthly element, this perception of the earth by
means of the physical body enabled him to recognize, in the
course of the stars, the spiritual element within destiny.
Thus, thousands of years before the Mystery of Golgotha,
the wisdom of the stars was highly estimated.
Then came the age during which, as I have told you, the human
being acquired a greater feeling for his surroundings.
After reaching the forties, he felt language in such a way that
he could say: “Within me the folk spirit, the folk genius
is speaking.” Man learned to regard language as something
objective.
In
connection with this feeling, the human being experienced that
which rotated around him, as it were, in a circle. At a later
time, he still experienced the daily sunrise, the
daily sunset. To a certain extent, he arranged his life
in accord with these phenomena. The course of the year,
however, was no longer really understood by him.
Yet
there was a time, during the sixth, fifth and fourth
millennium before the Mystery of Golgotha, when men lived
in unison not only with day and night, but also with the year.
This unison with the year has been partly preserved, especially
up here in the North. For instance, a relic of this past unison
can still be felt in the Olaf-Saga, where Olaf experiences the
course of the year in such a way that around and after
Christmas he enters the life of the spiritual world. Here
appears a memory of the unison between human life and the
course of the year as it came to flower in very ancient times
in the Orient, which was the scene of mankind's loftiest
civilization.
At
that time, human beings understood what later became known to
them only by means of tradition, namely, how to arrange their
festivals in accord with the course of the year. They took part
in the course of the year. In what way was this
accomplished?
Today we have no immediate experience of the fact that we
breathe in and breathe out; that the air is alternately within
and without us. The present-day human being would be hardly
aware of these things were he not told by science. He does not
experience, so vividly as did the people of ancient
times, the process of inspiration and expiration.
Yet
it is not only man that breathes, but also, even though in a
different way, our earth. Just as man possesses a soul element,
so does the earth possess a soul element. In the course of one
year, the earth first breathes in, and then breathes out her
soul element. And the wintry days, during which the Christmas
Festival takes place, approach at a time when the earth's
breathing-in process is at its height; when the earth-soul is
entirely within the earth. Then the earth has the greatest
amount of soul-life within herself. Hence, at this time, the
spirit and soul element becomes visible in the earth.
If
we can inwardly experience how the earth, having
concluded this breathing-in process, is now inhabited by
her whole soul and thereby lets come out of the earth-element
the elemental beings, who live with the snow-covered
trees, who live with the earth's surface where the water
congeals at a time when the earth covers herself with a blanket
of ice — if we can inwardly experience all this, then the
spiritual beings within the earth begin to stir. The mere
naturalist would say: The husbandman scatters the seed, which
lies in the earth all winter and sprouts forth in the spring.
This, however, could not happen unless the elemental
beings preserved, during the winter, the spiritual force of the
seeds. The spiritual beings, the spirits of nature, are most
wakeful when the earth has breathed in during the winter-time,
during the Christmas-time, her whole soul. Thus the birth of
Jesus could be best understood through the fact that it took
place at Christmas, when the earth is inhabited by her entire
soul.
Yet, even at the time of the Mystery of Golgotha, there were
very few people who had been able to retain an understanding of
this spirit and soul element contained in the earth during
winter.
Men
of earlier ages, however, knew that in mid-summer —
around the Day of St. John, on the twenty-fourth of June
— the state of the earth is just the opposite to her
wintry state. In midsummer, the process of exhaling is at
its height. Then the earth has given her soul to the
extra-terrestrial cosmos. From Christmas until the Day of
St. John, this breathing out of the soul-element into the vast
universe is perceived more and more. The soul of the earth is
striving towards the stars. The soul of the earth wishes to
know something about the life of the stars. And, in its own
way, the soul of the earth is most firmly united through the
light of the summer sun with the star movements at the season
of St. John's Day.
All
this could be recognized, thousands of years before the Mystery
of Golgotha, in certain parts of the world. And out of this
knowledge arose the inception of Summer Mysteries.
In
the mid-summer mysteries, the mysteries of St. John that were
celebrated especially in the North, the pupils of initiates
under the guidance of these initiates, tried to accompany the
earth-soul to the vast expanse of the stars, in order to read
out of the stars what spiritual happenings and facts are
connected with the earth. And, during the time between
Christmas and the Day of St. John, they pursued this soaring of
the earth-soul towards the world of the stars, this striving of
the earth-soul towards the stars. And an echo — but only
a traditional echo — of this striving of the earth-soul
towards the stars is still to be found in the way the date for
the Easter Festival is set.
The
Easter Festival is set for the first Sunday following the
vernal full moon and thus takes place in conformity with the
stars. The reason for this must be sought in ancient times,
when it was said: the soul of man desires to follow the
earth-soul on her path to the stars and consider the
star-wisdom as something whereby man may be guided.
Thus the Spring Festival, the Easter Festival, was set not
according to earthly calculation, but according to
heavenly calculation, to star calculation.
Especially in the span of time between the eighth
pre-Christian century and the fourth post-Christian
century, the feeling prevailed in the folk souls of civilized
people that human beings were saddened by mankind's cosmic
destiny. For there still existed the longing to follow the
earth-soul, which desired to soar up to the stars in
springtime. But the human soul, which was tied to the body,
could do so no longer. There was no possibility of
gaining from nature the ability to soar upward to the world of
stars, such as it had existed in ancient times.
Human beings, therefore, could easily comprehend why the Easter
Festival, which was to celebrate the Christ's death and
resurrection, should occur just in springtime.
And
the Deity came to their aid, by letting the death of Christ
Jesus occur in the spring. Even the setting of the Easter
Festival, however, revealed the fact that it was not
permissible to use earthly calculations. The Christmas Festival
could be computed by earthly means; for then the world-soul was
inhabiting the earth. Thus the Christmas Festival had to
be set for a definite day.
This setting of the Easter Festival contains profound wisdom.
Yet the modern age thinks differently. About twenty-four years
ago, I had weekly meetings with a well-known astronomer. Our
meetings took place in a small circle of friends. This
astronomer could reason only in the following way: All
the account books of the earth are thrown into disorder by
having the Easter Festival take place on different days.
According to his opinion, the least one could do was to set the
Easter Festival for the first Sunday in April, or regulate the
date in some abstract way. As you know, a movement exists
in the world which strives for such an abstract regulation of
the Easter Festival. People want to have order in their debits
and credits, which play such an important part in modern life.
And now the Easter Festival, whose celebration, after
all, requires several days, causes a great deal of disorder. It
would be much more efficient to set one definite day of
the year for its observance!
These things are an outward symbol of the fact that people want
to banish from the world all that conforms to
spiritual standards. Here is preeminently shown that we
have become materialists who want to banish the spiritual more
and more from human existence.
Formerly, however, the human being experienced the course of
the year in such a way that, by accompanying the earth-soul
into the cosmos in springtime and around the time of St. John's
Day, he also learned every year how to follow the spiritual
entities of the higher Hierarchies and, above all, the human
souls who had passed out of this world.
In
ancient times, people were conscious of the fact that, by
experiencing the course of the year, they learnt how to follow
the souls of the dead; learnt to find out, as it were, how
their dead kinfolk were faring. And people felt that springtime
not only brought them the first blossoms, but also the
opportunity of discovering how their kinfolk were faring.
Something spiritual was united, in a very concrete way,
with this experiencing of the seasons.
And
people in ancient times were much concerned with that which is
connected with the earthly element, to the degree that the
earthly is influenced by the stars. All this, however, has been
outgrown by modern man. When we observe St. John's Day —
the time when we could accompany the earth-soul soaring
upward to unite itself with the stars — the antipodes
celebrate Christmas. Thus, in that part of the world, the
earth-soul retires into the earth.
You
must consider that human beings during ancient,
spiritualized times knew so little of the antipodes that
the earth was thought of as a disk. Therefore it was impossible
to have any relation to the antipodes.
By
learning to think of the earth as a rounded body, one
became independent of the course of the year. As long as
one lived in a restricted region, the course of the seasons was
an absolute fact. Today, when one travels across the
globe without hindrance and, entering different localities,
minimizes the incidents of the seasons, one is unable to
experience their course. One also lacks the former intensive
relation to the Festivals. You will realize how much less
concrete and much more abstract our Festivals have
become. People know by tradition that Christmas is the time for
exchanging presents — and, besides, children enjoy their
few days' vacation. At Easter, one or the other ritual may be
witnessed. But in what way do present-day people concretely
experience the spiritual world by means of the seasons? Today
we are unable to understand the connection between our
Festivals of the year and the course of the seasons.
Not
only the human being has, in regard to his own person, become
an Ego-being, a free being, but also the earth has
emancipated herself from the universe. In modern times,
the earth stands no longer in so close a relation to the
universe as was formerly the case, at least as far as mankind's
evolution is concerned. Hence man has become increasingly
obliged to seek in his inner being what he cannot find
outside.
As
men became more and more intellectual, they acquired a natural
science concerned with all that is outside of man. What
I have in mind is not physics or chemistry which, in a purely
external sense, are concerned only with what lies outside of
man. I am speaking of biology. This science occupies itself in
an intensive way with the lower, and also the higher animals,
right up to the very highest species. And we have attained to a
marvelous, admirable science in regard to the animal form, so
that we are able today to have conceptions of how one animal
form has developed out of another. Out of this grew the
Darwin-Haeckel conception that the human form has developed out
of the animal form. Yet this theory teaches us
extraordinarily little about our own nature. It only
marks the end of a zoological line. The human being does not
attain a knowledge of himself as man, but only as the highest
animal. This is a great scientific accomplishment, but it must
be interpreted in the right way. People must learn to concede
that science can only teach us what man is not.
As
soon as it has become general knowledge that science must
concern itself not with what man is, but with what man is not,
then science will become enlightened. Then we shall be able to
study all the forms living in the animal kingdom, as well as
those in the plant kingdom.
Then we shall be able to say: “There outside, we have all
the animal shapes. These we had to leave behind in the outer
world; for, if they were still within us, we could never have
become men. Natural science tells us of the things that
we had to conquer within ourselves. We evolved by discarding,
more and more, the natural forms, by ejecting them and
retaining that which is not nature, but which
pertains to spirit and soul.”
Man
must come to the point where he can address science in the
following way: “You are great, for you have taught me
what man is not. Hence I must look for man's being in a sphere
totally different from external, physical science. I can become
a true scientist only by recognizing that man is not a product
of nature, topping the line of animals, but that the animals
are formations cast off and left behind by man. Only thus can I
attain a correct relation to science.” In order to
speak such words, man will be compelled to recognize things,
now not through external observation, but out of his inner
nature. And at the moment when man is able to say to himself:
“Science, in the modern sense, does not inform us about
man, but it only informs us concerning what man is
not”
— at this moment it will be recognized how much the world
has need of spiritual science. For there is nothing else that
gives us the possibility of recognizing man as Man. Without
spiritual science, we can come to know only the external sheath
of man as the final product of the animal kingdom.
Just by standing correctly on natural-scientific ground, we may
fully appreciate natural science as something lying outside of
man. To attain a knowledge of man — also with regard to
his physical attributes — we must pursue a different
path.
Anthroposophy has to strive for this spiritual observation. I
shall demonstrate this fact by a few concrete examples.
Because we are influenced by the materialistic spirit of the
age, there is a tendency in our schools to educate children by
pointing to their bodily nature. Nowadays people make
experiments involving the memory, even the faculties of
willing and thinking. I do not object to such things, which may
be quite interesting, inasmuch as science is concerned. It is,
nevertheless, terrible to apply such experiments in a
pedagogical way. If we can approach the child only by means of
external experiments, this proves how completely estranged we
have become from man's real being. Anyone inwardly connected
with the child does not need external experiments. I wish,
however, to emphasize once more that I am not opposed to
experimental psychology. Yet we must acquire the faculty
to enter man's being by the inward means of spirit and
soul.
For
instance, we are told: “A child's memory, his power of
remembering, may be exerted too much or too little in his ninth
or tenth year.” The clamor against over-exerting the
memory can lead to the result of exerting it too little. We
must always try to find the middle course. For instance, we may
make too great demands on a nine or ten-year-old's memory. The
real consequences will not appear before the person in
question has reached the age of thirty or forty, or
perhaps still later. Then this person may develop rheumatism or
diabetes. By overexerting a child's memory at the wrong
time — let us say between the ninth and tenth year
— we cause during this youthful stage an
exaggerated depositing of faulty metabolic products. These
connections, lasting during a man's entire earth-life, go
generally unnoticed.
On
the other hand, by exercising the memory too little —
that is, by letting a child's memory remain idle — we
bring forth a tendency to all kinds of inflammations appearing
in later years.
What is important to know is the following: that the bodily
states of a certain life-period are the consequences of the
soul and spirit states of another.
Or
let us mention something else. We make experiments as to how
quickly eight, nine, or ten-year old children in the
grammar school tire during a reading lesson. We can work
our graphs which show that the pupils tire after a certain
length of time when doing arithmetic, and again after a certain
length of time when doing gymnastics. Then the lessons are
arranged according to these charts.
Of
course, these charts are very interesting for purely
objective science, to which I pay all due respect. I have
no quarrel with such methods; but, with regard to education,
they are of no use whatsoever. For between the change of teeth
and puberty — that is, just at the grammar school
age — we can educate and teach in the right way only by
not over-exerting either the head or the limbs, but by
stressing the use of the respiratory and circulatory system,
the rhythmical system. Above all, we should inject into
gymnastic exercises rhythm and time-beat: an element of
art should be introduced.
Hence the art of eurythmy is so well adapted to educational
purposes. Here the artistic element enters into the child's
movements. Similarly, we should relieve the child's head
by keeping him away from too much thinking; but teach him
instead in a pictorial, imaginative way, present things
to the child pictorially. For then he is not made to exert
either his nervous-sensuous or his motor system, but
mostly his rhythmic system. And this system does not become
tired.
You
only need to consider that our hearts must beat all night long,
even when we are tired and want to rest. We must
ceaselessly breathe between our birth and death. It is
only the motor and sensuous-nervous systems that tire. The
rhythmic system never tires. Therefore the child's schooling,
at a time when he must take into his soul things of the
greatest importance, should be organized in such a way that
those of the child's faculties are called forth which
never tire. If we
calculate, however, that some subject exhausts the child in a
stated period, and then employ charts of this kind, the
educational methods are worked out in a wrong way, and not in a
correct way. We must realize one thing: What experimental
psychology makes clear is essentially the non-human. The human
must be inwardly recognized.
In
this way, medicine too will be penetrated by thoughts
pertaining to spirit and soul. In ancient times, medicine was
dominated by such thoughts, and the activities of healing and
educating were designated by the same word. When the human
being entered the world, he was considered of being in need of
healing. Education was tantamount to healing. This will again
be possible once the knowledge given by spirit and soul will
have advanced to a point where the deeper connections of these
things can be discerned. As I said before: Too little
exertion of the memory causes subsequent inflammations;
too great exertion causes deposits of metabolic products.
By
looking at the effect of the action of spirit and soul on the
physical, the spiritual element can be found in every single
illness. And, conversely, we learn to recognize the
cosmos; to recognize the spiritual state of matter within the
cosmos. Then therapy may be added to pathology. And here we are
filled with the thought that since the Mystery of Golgotha we
are obliged to appeal to the soul's inner essence. We
can no longer draw the spirit-soul element out of our external
surroundings. By considering, in the lecture-halls of anatomy,
merely the physical-sensible, we shall call forth a cry
such as was uttered during a recent medical Congress. Impelled
by the misery of the age, a medical scientist called out:
“Give us corpses! Then we shall be able to advance in
medicine. Give us corpses!” — Certainly, this cry
is perfectly valid today; and, again, I do not fight against
this demand for corpses. All this, however, can develop in the
right way only if, on the other hand, the cry is uttered:
“Give us the possibility of looking into spirit and soul,
so that we may recognize how they continually build up the
body, and continually destroy it.”
All
this is connected with the right comprehension of the Mystery
of Golgotha. For the Christ wanted us to comprehend again how
to heal out of our inner being. Because of this, He sent the
Healing Spirit. What He wanted to implant into mankind
will bring us physical knowledge, but a physical
knowledge permeated by the spirit.
Thus we comprehend the Christ correctly by grasping, in the
right way, this word of the Gospel: “Whoever utters
incessantly the cry: Lord, Lord! or Christ,
Christ! should not, therefore, be considered a true
Christian.” Anthroposophy is often reproached for
speaking less of the Christ than does external religion. Then I
often say to those who blame Anthroposophy: “Is there not
an ancient Commandment recognized also by Christians, but
forgotten in this eternal mentioning of the Christ: `Thou shalt
not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain?' This is one of
the ten Commandments.”
Whoever speaks ceaselessly of the Christ; whoever has the
Christ's name constantly on his lips, sins against the
sacredness of His name. Anthroposophy wants to be Christian in
all it does and is. Therefore it cannot be reproached for
speaking too little of the Christ. The consciousness that the
Christ is living permeates everything brought forth by
Anthroposophy. And thus it does not want to have Lord,
Lord! incessantly on its lips. The less it speaks of the
name “Christ,” the more truly does it desire to be
Christian.
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