THE KARMIC RELATIONSHIPS
OF THE
ANTHROPOSOPHICAL MOVEMENT
I
INTRODUCTION
TO THESE STUDIES ON KARMA
For those of
you who are able to be here today I wish to give a kind of
interlude in the studies we have been pursuing for some
time. What I shall say today will serve to illustrate and
explain many a question that may emerge out of the subjects
we have treated hitherto. At the same time it will help to
throw light on the mood-of-soul of the civilisation of the
present time.
For years past,
we have had to draw attention to a certain point of time in
that evolution of civilisation which is concentrated mainly
in Europe. The time I mean lies in the 14th or 15th century
or about the middle of the Middle Ages. It is the moment in
the evolution of mankind when intellectualism begins
— when men begin mainly to pay attention to the
intellect, the life of thought, making the intellect the
judge of what shall be thought and done among them.
Since the age of
the intellect is with us today, we can certainly gain a
good idea of what intellectualism is. We need but
experience the present time, to gain a notion of what came
to the surface of civilisation in the 14th and 15th
century. But as to the mood of soul which preceded this, we
are no longer able to feel it in a living way. People who
study history nowadays generally project what they are
accustomed to see in the-present time, back into the
historic past, and they have little idea how altogether
different men were in mind and spirit before the present
epoch. Even when they let the old documents speak for
themselves, they largely read into them the way of thought
and outlook of the present.
To
spiritual-scientific study many a thing will appear
altogether differently. Let us turn our gaze for example to
those historic personalities who were influenced on the one
hand from the side of Arabism, from the civilisation of
Asia — influenced by what lived and found expression
in the Mahommedan religion, while on the other hand they
were influenced by Aristotelianism. Let us consider these
personalities, who found their way in course of time
through Africa to Spain, and deeply influenced the thinkers
of Europe down to Spinoza and even beyond him. We gain no
real conception of them if we imagine their mood of soul as
though they had been like men of the present time with the
only difference that they were ignorant of so and so many
things subsequently discovered. (For roughly speaking, this
is how they are generally thought of today). The whole way
of thought and outlook, even of the men who lived in the
above described stream of civilisation as late as the 12th
century A.D., was altogether different from that of
today.
Today, when man
reflects upon himself, he feels himself as the possessor of
Thoughts, Feelings, and impulses of Will which lead to
action. Above all, man ascribes to himself the
‘I think,’ the ‘I feel’ and the
‘I will.’
But in the
personalities of whom I am now speaking, the ‘I
think’ was by no means yet accompanied by the same
feeling with which we today would say ‘I
think.’ This could only be said of the ‘I
feel’ and the ‘I will.’ In effect, these
human beings ascribed to their own person only their
Feeling and their Willing. Out of an ancient background of
culture, they rather lived in the sensation ‘It
thinks in me’ than that they thought ‘I
think.’ Doubtless they thought ‘I feel,’
‘I will,’ but they did not think ‘I
think’ in the same measure. On the other hand they
said to themselves — and what I shall now describe
was an absolutely real conception to them: — In the
Sublunary Sphere, there live the thoughts. The thoughts are
everywhere within this sphere, which is determined when we
imagine the Earth at a certain point, and the Moon at
another, followed by Mercury, Venus, etc. They not only
conceived the Earth as a dense and rigid cosmic mass, but
as a second thing belonging to it they conceived the Lunar
Sphere, reaching up to the Moon. And as we say, ‘In
the air in which we breathe is oxygen,’ so did these
people say (it is only forgotten now that it ever was so):
— ‘In the Ether which reaches up to the Moon,
there are the thoughts.’ And as we say ‘We
breathe-in the oxygen of the air,’ so did these
people say — not ‘We breathe-in the
thoughts’ — but ‘We perceive the
thoughts, receive them into ourselves.’ They were
conscious of the fact that they received the thoughts.
Today, no doubt,
a man can also familiarise himself with such an idea as a
theoretic concept. He may even understand it with the help
of Anthroposophy, but as soon as it becomes a question of
practical life he forgets it. For then at once he has this
rather strange idea, that the thoughts spring forth within
himself — which is just as though he were to think
that the oxygen he receives in breathing were not received
by him but sprang forth from within him.
For the
personalities of whom I am now speaking, it was a profound
feeling and an immediate experience: ‘I have not my
own thoughts as my own possession. I can not really say, I
think. Thoughts exist, and I receive them unto
myself.’
Now we know that
the oxygen of the air circulates through our organism in a
comparatively short time. We count these cycles by the
pulse-beat. This happens quickly. The men of whom I am now
speaking did indeed imagine the receiving of thoughts as a
kind of breathing, but it was a very slow breathing. It
consisted in this: At the beginning of his earthly life,
man becomes capable of receiving the thoughts. As we hold
the breath within us for a certain time — between our
in-breathing and out-breathing — so did these men
conceive a certain fact, as follows: They imagined that
they held the thoughts within them, yet only in the sense
in which we hold the oxygen which belongs to the outer air.
They imagined that they held the thoughts during the time
of their earthly life, and breathed them out again —
out into the cosmic spaces — when they passed through
the gate of death.
Thus it was a
question of in-breathing — the beginning of life;
holding the breath — the duration of earthly life;
outbreathing — the sending-forth of the thoughts into
the universe.
Men who had this
kind of inner experience felt themselves in a common
atmosphere of thought with all others who had the same
experience. It was a common atmosphere of thought reaching
beyond the earth, not only a few miles, but as I said, up
to the orbit of the moon.
This idea was
wrestling for the civilisation of Europe at that time. It
was trying to spread itself ever more and more, impelled
especially by those Aristotelians who came from Asia into
Europe along the path I have just indicated. Let us suppose
for a moment that it had really succeeded. What would then
have come about?
In that case, my
dear friends, that which was destined after all to find
expression in the course of earthly evolution, could never
have come to expression in the fullest sense: I mean, the
Spiritual Soul. The human beings of whom I am now speaking,
stood in the last stage of evolution of the Intellectual or
Mind-Soul. In the 14th and 15th century, the Spiritual Soul
was to arise — the Spiritual Soul, which, if it found
extreme expression, would lead all civilisation into
intellectualism.
The population of
Europe in its totality, in the 10th, 11th and 12th
centuries, was by no means in a position merely to submit
to the outpouring of a conception such as was held by the
men whom I have now described. For if they had done so, the
evolution of the Spiritual Soul would not have come about.
Though it was determined in the councils of the Gods that
the Spiritual Soul should evolve, nevertheless it could not
evolve out of the mere independent activity of European
humanity even in its totality. A special impulse had to be
given towards the development of the Spiritual Soul
itself.
And so, beginning
in the time which I have now described, we witness the rise
of two spiritual streams. The one was represented by the
quasi-Arabian philosophers who, working from the West of
Europe, influenced European civilisation very strongly
— far more so than is commonly supposed. The other
was the stream which fought against the former one with the
utmost intensity and severity, representing it to Europe as
the most heretical of all.
For a long time
after, this conflict was felt with great intensity. You may
still feel this if you consider the pictures in which
Dominican Monks, or St. Thomas Aquinas alone, are
represented in triumph — that is to say, in the
triumph of an altogether different conception which
emphasised above all things the individual and personal
being of man, and worked to the end that man might acquire
his thoughts as his own property. In these pictures we see
the Dominicans portrayed, treading the representatives of
Arabism under foot. The Arabians are there under their feet
— they are being trodden underfoot.
The two streams
were felt in this keen contrast for a long time after. An
energy of feeling such as is contained in these pictures no
longer exists in the humanity of today, which is rather
apathetic. We need such energy of feeling very badly, not
indeed for the things for which they battled, but for other
things we need it.
Let us consider
for a moment what they imagined. The in-breathing of
thoughts as the cosmic ether from the Sublunary Sphere
— that is the beginning of life. The holding of the
breath — that is the earthly life itself. The
out-breathing — that is the going-forth of the
thoughts once more, but with an individually human
colouring, into the cosmic ether, into the impulses of the
sphere beneath the Moon, of the Sublunary Sphere.
What then is this
out-breathing? It is the very same, my dear friends, of
which we speak when we say: In the three days after death
the etheric body of man expands. Man looks back upon his
etheric body, slowly increasing in magnitude. He sees how
his thoughts spread out into the cosmos. It is the very
same, only it was then conceived — if I may say so
— from a more subjective standpoint. It was indeed
quite true, how these people felt and experienced it. They
felt the cycle of life more deeply than it is felt
today.
Nevertheless, if
their idea had become dominant in Europe, only a feeble
feeling of the Ego would have evolved in the men of
European civilisation. The Spiritual Soul would not have
been able to emerge; the Ego would not have grasped itself
in the ‘I think.’ The idea of immortality would
have become vaguer and vaguer. Men would increasingly have
fixed their attention on that which lives and weaves in the
far reaches of the Sublunary Sphere as a remnant of the
human being who has lived here on this earth.
They would have
felt the spirituality of the earth as its extended
atmosphere. They would have felt themselves belonging to
the earth, but not as individual men distinct from the
earth. Through their feeling of “It thinks in
me,” the men whom I described above felt themselves
intimately connected with the earth. They did not feel
themselves as individualities in the same degree as the men
of the rest of Europe were beginning to feel themselves,
however indistinctly.
We must, however,
also bear in mind the following. Only the spiritual stream
of which I have just spoken, was aware of the fact that
when man dies the thoughts he received during his earthly
life are living and weaving in the cosmic ether that
surrounds the earth. This idea was violently attacked by
those other personalities who arose chiefly within the
Dominican Order. They on their side declared that man is an
individuality, and that we must concentrate above all on
his individuality which passes through the gate of death,
not on what is dissolved in the universal cosmic ether.
This was emphasised paramountly, albeit not exclusively,
— emphasised representatively, I would say, —
by the Dominicans. They stood up sharply and vigorously for
the idea of the individuality of man, as against the other
stream which I characterised before. But precisely as a
result of this a certain condition came about. For let us
now consider these representatives — shall we say
— of individualism.
After all, it was
the individually coloured thoughts which passed into the
universal ether. And those who fought against the former
stream — just because they were still vividly aware
that this was being said, that this idea existed, —
were troubled and disquieted by what was really
there.
This anxiety,
notably among the greatest thinkers, — this anxiety
as a result of the forces expanding and dissolving and
passing on the human thoughts to the cosmic ether, —
did not really come to an end until the 16th or 17th
century.
We must somehow
be able to transplant ourselves into the inner life of soul
of these people, — those especially who belonged to
the Dominican Order. Only then do we gain an idea, how much
they were disquieted by what was really left as an heritage
from the dead, — which they, with their conception,
no longer could nor dared believe in.
We must
transplant ourselves into the hearts and minds of these
people. No great man of the 13th or 14th century could have
thought so dryly, so abstractly or in such cold and icy
concepts as the men of today. When the men of today are
standing up for any ideas or theories, it seems as though
it were a recognised condition for so doing that one's
heart should first be torn out of one's body. At that time
it was not so. At that time there was deep feeling, there
was heartiness in all that men upheld as their
ideas. But in a case such as I am now citing, this
heartiness also involved the presence of an intense inner
conflict.
That philosophy,
for instance, which proceeded from the Dominican Order was
evolved under the most appalling inner conflicts. I mean
that philosophy which afterwards had such a strong
influence on life — for life at that time was still
far more dependent on the authority of individual men.
There was no such popular education at that time. All
culture and education — all that the people knew
— eventually merged into the possession of a few. And
as a consequence, these few reached up far more to a real
philosophic life and striving. And in all that then flowed
out into civilisation, these inner conflicts which they
lived through, were contained.
Today one reads
the works of the Schoolmen and is conscious only of the
driest thoughts. But it is the readers of today who are
dry. Those who wrote these works were by no means dry in
heart or mind. They were filled with inner fire in relation
to their thoughts. Moreover, this inner fire was due to the
striving to hold at bay the objective influence of
thoughts.
When a man of
today thinks on philosophic questions or questions of
world-outlook, nothing is there, so to speak, to worry him.
A man of today can think the greatest nonsense — he
thinks it in perfect calm and peace of mind. Humanity has
already evolved for so long within the Spiritual Soul, that
no such disquieting occurs, as would occur, for instance,
if individuals among us felt how the thoughts of men appear
when they flow out after death into the ethereal
environment of the earth. Today, such things as could still
be experienced in the 13th or 14th century, are quite
unknown. Then it would happen that a younger priest would
come to an older priest, telling of the inner tortures
which he was undergoing in remaining true to his religious
faith, and expressing it in this wise: ‘I am pursued
by the spectres of the dead.’
Speaking of the
spectres of the dead, they meant precisely what I have just
described. That was a time when men could still grow deeply
into what they learned. In such a community — a
Dominican community for instance, — they learned that
man is individual and has his own individual immortality.
They learned that it is a false and heretical idea to
conceive, with respect to Thought, a kind of universal soul
comprising all the earth. They learned to attack this
heresy with all their might. And yet, in certain moments
when they took deep counsel with themselves, they would
feel the objective and influential presence of the thoughts
which were left behind as relics by the dead. Then they
would say to themselves, ‘Is it quite right for me to
be doing what I am doing? Here is something intangible,
working into my soul. I cannot rise against it — I am
held fast by it.’
The intellects of
the men of that time, — of many of them at any rate,
— were still so constituted that they were quite
generally aware of the speaking of the dead, at least for
some days after death. And when the one had ceased to
speak, another would begin. With respect to such things
too, they felt themselves immersed in the all-pervading
spiritual — or at the very least, ethereal —
essence of the universe.
Coming down into
our own time, this living feeling with the Universal All
has ceased. In return for it we have achieved the conscious
life in the Spiritual Soul, while all the spiritual reality
that surrounds us (surrounds us as a reality, no less so
than tables or chairs, trees or rivers) works only upon the
depths of our subconsciousness. The inwardness of life, the
spiritual inwardness, has passed away. It must first be
acquired again by spiritual-scientific knowledge livingly
received.
We must think
livingly upon the knowledge of spiritual science, and we
shall do so if we dwell upon such facts of life as lie by
no means very far behind us. Imagine a Scholastic thinker
or writer of the 13th century. He writes down his thoughts.
Nowadays it is easy work to think, for men have grown
accustomed to think intellectualistically. At that time it
was only at the beginning, and was still difficult. Man was
still conscious of a tremendous inner effort. He was
conscious of fatigue in thinking even as in hewing wood, if
I may use the trivial comparison. Today the thinking of
many men has become quite automatic. We of today are
scarcely overcome by the longing to follow up every one of
our thoughts with our own human personality! We hear a man
of today letting one thought arise out of another like an
automaton. We cannot follow, we do not know why, for there
is no inner necessity in it. And yet so long as a man is
living in the body he should follow up his thoughts with
his own personality. Afterwards they will soon take a
different course; they will spread out and expand, when he
is dead.
So could a man be
sitting there at that time, defending with every weapon of
sharp incisive thought the doctrine of individual man, so
as to save the doctrine of individual immortality. So could
he be rising in polemics against Averroes, or others of
that stream of thought which I described at the beginning
of this lecture. But there was another possibility. For
especially in the case of an outstanding man like Averroes,
that which proceeded from him, dissolving after his death
like a kind of spectre in the Sublunary Sphere, might well
be gathered up again by the Moon itself at the end of that
Sphere, and remain behind. Having enlarged and expanded, it
might even be reduced again, and shape and form be given to
it, till it was consolidated once again into a being built,
if I may say so, in the ether. That could well happen. Then
would a man be sitting there, trying to lay the foundations
of individualism, carrying on his polemic against Averroes;
and Averroes would appear before him as a threatening
figure, disturbing, putting off his mind.
The most
important of the Scholastic writings which arose in the
13th century were directed against Averroes who was long
dead. They made polemics against the man long dead, against
the doctrine which he had left behind. Then he arose to
prove to them that his thoughts had become condensed,
consolidated once again and thus were living on.
There were indeed
these inner conflicts, before the beginning of the new age
of consciousness. And they were such that we today should
see once more their full intensity and depth and
inwardness. Words after all are words. The men of later
times can but receive what lies behind the words, with such
ideas as they possess. But within the words there were
often rich contents of inner life. They pointed to a life
of soul such as I have now described.
These, then, are
the two streams, and they have remained active,
fundamentally speaking, to this day. The one — albeit
now only working from the spiritual world, yet all the
stronger there, — -would fain impress it upon man
that a universal life of thoughts surrounds the earth, and
that in thoughts man breathes-in soul and spirit. The other
stream desires above all to point out that man should make
himself independent of such universality. The former stream
is more like a vague intangible presence in the spiritual
environment of the earth, perceptible today to many men
(for there are still such men) when in peculiar nights they
lie there on their beds and listen to the void, and out of
the void all manner of doubts are born in them as to what
they are asserting today so definitely and so surely in
their own individuality.
Meanwhile in
other folk, who always sleep soundly because they are so
well satisfied with themselves, we have the unswerving
emphasis on the individual principle.
This battle,
after all, is smouldering still at the very foundations of
European culture. It is there to this day; and in the
things that are taking place outwardly at the surface of
our life, we have after all scarcely anything else than the
beating of the surface-waves from that which is still
present in the depths of souls, — a relic of the
deeper and intenser inner life of yonder time.
Many souls of
that time are here again in present earthly life. In a
certain way they have conquered what then disquieted them
so much in their surface consciousness — disquieted
them at least in certain moments of their surface
consciousness.
But in the depths
it smoulders all the more, in many minds and hearts today.
Spiritual science, once again, is here to draw attention
also to such historic facts as these.
But we must not
forget the following. In the same measure in which men
become unconscious, during earthly life, of what is there
none the less, namely the thoughts in the ether in the
immediate environment of the earth — in the same
measure, therefore, in which they acquire the ‘I
think’ as their own possession — their human
soul is narrowed down. Man passes through the gate of death
with a contracted soul.
The narrowed soul
has carried untrue, imperfect, inconsistent earthly
thoughts into the cosmic ether, and these work back again
upon the minds of men. Thence there arise such social
movements as we see arise today. We must understand these
too as to their inner origin. Then we shall recognise that
there is no other cure, no other healing for these social
ideas, destructive as they often are, than the spreading of
the truth about the spiritual life and being.
Call to mind the
lectures we have given here, especially the historic ones
taking into account the idea of reincarnation and leading
to so many definite examples. These lectures will have
shown you how things work beneath the surface of external
history. You will have seen how that which lives in one
historic age is carried over into a later one by men
returning into earthly life. But everything spiritual plays
its part, between death and a new birth, in moulding what
is carried by man from one earth-life into another.
Today it would be
good if many souls would attain for themselves that
objectivity to which we can address ourselves, awakening an
inner understanding, when we describe the men who lived in
the twilight of the Intellectual or Mind-Soul age.
Some of the men
who lived at that time are here again today. Deep in their
souls they underwent the evening twilight of an age, and
through the constant attacks they suffered from the
spectres of which I have now spoken, they have, after all,
absorbed deep doubts as to the unique validity of what is
intellectualistic.
This doubt can
well be understood. For about the 13th century there were
many men — men of knowledge, who stood in the midst
of the life of learning, almost entirely theological as it
then was — men for whom it was a deep conscience
question: What will now become?
Such souls had
often carried with them into that time mighty contents from
their former incarnations. They gave it an
intellectualistic colouring; but they felt this all as a
declining stream. While at the rising stream —
pressing forward as it was to individuality — they
felt the pangs of conscience. Until at length those
philosophers arose who stood under an influence which has
really killed all meaning. To speak radically, we will say:
those who stood under the influence of Descartes! For many,
even among those who had their place in the Scholasticism
of an earlier time, had already fallen into the Cartesian
way of thought. I do not say that they became philosophers.
These things underwent many a change. When men begin to
think along these lines the strangest nonsense becomes
self-understood. To Descartes, as you know, is due the
saying ‘I think, therefore I am.’
Countless clever
thinkers have accepted this as true: ‘I think,
therefore I am.’ Yet the result is this: From morning
until evening I think, therefore I am. Then I fall asleep.
I do not think, therefore I am not. I wake up again, I
think, therefore I am. I fall asleep, and as I now do not
think, I am not. This then is the consequence: A man not
only falls asleep, but ceases to be when he falls asleep.
There is no less fitting proof of the existence of the
spirit of man than the theorem: ‘I think.’ Yet
this began to be the most widely accepted statement in the
age of evolution of Consciousness (the age of the Spiritual
Soul). When we point to such things today, it is like a
sacrilege — we cannot help ourselves!
But over against
all this, I would now tell you of a kind of conversation.
Though it is not historically recorded, by spiritual
research it can be discovered among the real facts that
happened. It was a conversation that took place between an
older and a younger Dominican, somewhat as follows:
—
The younger man
said, ‘Thinking takes hold of men. Thought, the
shadow of reality, takes hold of them. In ancient times,
thought was always the last revelation of the living Spirit
from above. But now, thought is the very thing that has
forgotten that living Spirit. Now it is experienced as a
mere shadow. Verily, when a man sees a shadow, he knows the
shadow points to some reality. The realities are there
indeed. Thinking itself is not to be attacked, but only the
fact that we have lost the living Spirit from our
thinking.’
The older man
replied, ‘In Thinking, through the very fact that man
is turning his attention with loving interest to outer
Nature, (while he accepts Revelation as Revelation and does
not seek to approach it with his thinking), — in
Thinking, to compensate for the former heavenly reality, an
earthly reality must be found once more.’
‘What will
happen?’ said the younger man. ‘Will European
humanity be strong enough to find this earthly reality of
thought, or will it only be weak enough to lose the
heavenly reality?’
This dialogue
truly contains all that can still hold good with regard to
European civilisation. For after the intermediate time,
with the darkening of the living quality of thought,
mankind must now attain the living thought once more.
Otherwise humanity will remain weak, and with the reality
of thought will lose its own reality. Therefore it is most
necessary, since the entry of our Christmas impulse, that
we in the Anthroposophical Movement speak without reserve
in forms of living thought. For otherwise it will come
about, more and more, that even the things we know from
this source or from that — as for instance, that man
has a physical body, an etheric body and an astral body,
— will only be taken hold of with the forms of dead
thinking.
These things must
not be taken hold of with the forms of dead thinking. For
then they become distorted, misrepresented truth, and not
the truth itself.
So much I wanted
to describe today. We must attain a living, sympathetic
interest, a longing to go beyond the ordinary history and
to attain that history which must and can be read in the
living Spirit, which history shall more and more be
cultivated in the Anthroposophical Movement. Today, my dear
friends, I wished to place before your souls, as it were,
the concrete outline of our programme in this
direction.
Much has been
said today in aphorism. The inner connection will dawn upon
you if you attempt, not so much to follow up with
intellect, but to feel with your whole being, what was
desired to be said today. You must attempt to feel it
knowingly, to know it feelingly, in order that not only
what is said but what is heard within our circles may be
sustained more and more by real spirituality.
We need education
to spiritual hearing, spiritual listening. Only then shall
we develop the true spirituality among us. I wanted to
awaken this feeling in you today; not so much to hold a
systematic lecture, but to speak to your hearts, albeit
calling to witness, as I did so, many a concrete spiritual
fact.
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