III
Stuttgart,
February 6, 1923
In view of the
deliberations that have been going on here with reorganization of the
Anthroposophical Society as their object, I would like to shape
today's lecture in a way that may help my hearers form independent
judgments in these decisive days. To this end I shall be speaking
somewhat more briefly and aphoristically than I usually do when
discussing aspects of anthroposophy, and shall confine myself to
commenting on the third phase of our anthroposophical work. This
evening I will speak for the same reason on the subject of the three
phases of the Anthroposophical Movement.
We often hear
references being made these days to the great change that came over
Western spiritual life when Copernicus substituted his new picture of
the heavens for the one previously held. If one were to try to state
just what the nature of this change was, it might be put as follows.
In earlier times man thought of the earth realm as the object of his
study and the chief concern of learning, with little or no attention
being paid to the heavenly bodies circling overhead.
In recent times the
heavenly bodies have come to assume a great deal more importance than
they used to be accorded. Indeed, the earth came to be thought of as
a mere grain of dust in the universe, and man felt himself to be
living on a tiny speck of an earth quite insignificant by contrast
with the rest of the cosmos and its countless thousand worlds. But if
you will permit me to give just a sketch of this matter for the sake
of characterizing the third phase of our Anthroposophical Movement,
it must be pointed out that by reducing the earth to a mere grain of
dust on the one hand, man also lost the possibility on the other of
arriving at valid judgments about the rest of the universe other than
those based on such physical and more recent chemical concepts as may
apply. Research that goes beyond this and devotes itself to a study
of soul and spiritual aspects of the universe is ignored. This is, of
course, quite in keeping with the whole stance of modern learning.
Man loses the possibility of seeing what he calls his soul and spirit
as in any way connected with what rays down to us from the starry
world. You can judge from certain passages in my book,
An Outline Of Occult Science,
how intent anthroposophy is on creating a renewed understanding of the
fact that the whole universe is suffused with soul and spirit, that human
thoughts are connected with cosmic thoughts, human souls with cosmic
souls, human spirits with cosmic spirits, with the creative
spirituality of the universe. Anthroposophy aims at re-creating the
possibility of knowing the cosmos as spirit.
In this quest
anthroposophy encounters a serious obstacle on its path, an obstacle
that I am going to describe without reservation.
People come forward,
quite rightly proclaiming anthroposophy with great enthusiasm. But
they emphasize that what they are proclaiming is a doctrine based not
on their own experience but on that of a spiritual investigator. This
makes for instant conflict with the way of thinking prevailing in
present day civilization, which condemns anyone who advances views
based on authority. Such condemnation would disappear if people only
realized that the findings of spiritual research recognized by
anthroposophy can be arrived at with the use of various methods
suited to various ways of investigation, but that once they are
obtained, these results can readily be grasped by any truly
unprejudiced mentality. But findings acceptable to all truly
unprejudiced mentalities can be made and still not lead to fruitful
results unless those presenting anthroposophical material do so with
attitudes required for anthroposophical presentations that are not
always prevailing.
Let me be explicit.
Let me refer to my book,
The Philosophy of Freedom,
published about thirty years ago, and
recall my description in its pages of a special kind of thinking that
is different from that generally recognized as thinking today. When
thinking is mentioned — and this holds especially true in the
case of those whose opinions carry greatest weight — the
concept of it is one that pictures the thinking human spirit as
rather passive. This human spirit devotes itself to outer
observation, studying phenomena or experimenting, and then using
thought to relate these observations. Thus it comes to set up laws of
nature, concerning the validity and metaphysical or merely physical
significance of which disputes may arise. But it makes a difference
whether a person just entertains these thoughts that have come to him
from observing nature, or proceeds instead to try to reach some
clarity as to his own human relationship to these thoughts that he
has formed at the hand of nature, thoughts that, indeed, he has only
recently developed the ability to form about it. For if we go back to
earlier times, say to the thirteenth or twelfth or eleventh century,
we find that man's thoughts about nature were the product of a
different attitude of soul. People of today conceive of thinking as
just a passive noting of phenomena and of the consistency — or
lack of it — with which they occur. One simply allows thoughts
to emerge from the phenomena and passively occupy one's soul. In
contrast to this, my
Philosophy of Freedom
stresses the active element in thinking, emphasizing
how the will enters into it and how one can become aware of one's own
inner activity in the exercise of what I have called pure thinking.
In this connection I showed that all truly moral impulses have their
origin in this pure thinking. I tried to point out how the will
strikes into the otherwise passive realm of thought, stirring it
awake and making the thinker inwardly active.
Now what kind of
reader approach did the
Philosophy of Freedom
count on? It had to assume a special way of
reading. It expected the reader as he read to undergo the sort of
inner experience that, in an external sense, is really just
like waking up out of sleep in the morning. The feeling one should
have about it is such as to make one say, “My relation to the
world in passive thoughts was, on a higher level, that of a person
who lies asleep. Now I am waking up.” It is like knowing at the
moment of awakening that one has been lying passively in bed, letting
nature have her way with one's body. But then one begins to be
inwardly active. One relates one's senses actively to what is going
on in the color-filled, sounding world about one. One links one's own
bodily activity to one's intentions. The reader of
The Philosophy of Freedom
should experience something like this waking moment of transition from
passivity to activity, though of course on a higher level. He should
be able to say, “Yes, I have certainly thought thoughts before.
But my thinking took the form of just letting thoughts flow and carry
me along. Now, little by little, I am beginning to be inwardly active
in them. I am reminded of waking up in the morning and relating my sense
activity to sounds and colors, and my bodily motions to my will.”
Experiencing this awakening as I have described it in my book,
Vom Menschenrätsel
[English translation:
The Riddle of Man],
where I comment on Johann Gottlieb
Fichte, is to develop a soul attitude completely different from that
prevalent today. But the attitude of soul thus arrived at leads not
merely to knowledge that must be accepted on someone else's authority
but to asking oneself what the thoughts were that one used to have
and what this activity is that one now launches to strike into one's
formerly passive thoughts. What, one asks, is this element that has
the same rousing effect on one's erstwhile thinking that one's life
of soul and spirit have on one's body on awakening? (I am referring
here just to the external fact of awaking.) One begins to experience
thinking in a way one could not have done without coming to know it
as a living, active function.
So long as one is
only considering passive thoughts, thinking remains just a
development going on in the body while the physical senses are
occupying themselves with external objects. But when a person
suffuses this passive thinking with inner activity, he lights upon
another similar comparison for the thinking he formerly engaged in,
and can begin to see what its passivity resembled. He comes to the
realization that this passive thinking of his was exactly the same
thing in the soul realm that a corpse represents in the physical.
When one looks at a corpse here in the physical world, one has to
recognize that it was not created as the thing one sees, that none of
nature's ordinary laws can be made to account for the present
material composition of this body. Such a configuration of material
elements could be brought about only as a result of a living human
being having dwelt in what is now a corpse. It has become mere
remains, abandoned by a formerly indwelling person; it can be
accounted for only by assuming the prior existence of a living human
being.
An observer
confronting his own passive thinking resembles someone who has never
seen anything but corpses, who has never beheld a living person. Such
a man would have to look upon all corpses as miraculous creations,
since nothing in nature could possibly have produced them. When one
suffuses one's thinking with active soul life, one realizes for the
first time that thought is just a left-over and recognizes it as the
remains of something that has died. Ordinary thinking is dead, a mere
corpse of the soul, and one has to become aware of it as such through
suffusing it with one's own soul life and getting to know this corpse
of abstract thinking in its new aliveness. To understand ordinary
thinking, one has to see that it is dead, a psychic corpse whose
erstwhile life is to be sought in the soul's pre-earthly existence.
During that phase of experience the soul lived in a bodiless state in
the life-element of its thinking, and the thinking left to it in its
earthly life must be regarded as the soul corpse of the living soul
of pre-earthly existence.
This becomes the
illuminating inner experience that one can have on projecting will
into one's thinking. One has to look at thinking this way when, in
accordance with mankind's present stage of evolution, one searches
for the source of ethical and moral impulses in pure thinking. Then
one has the experience of being lifted by pure thinking itself out of
one's body and into a realm not of the earth. Then one realizes that
what one possesses in this living thinking has no connection
whatsoever with the physical world, but is nonetheless real. It has
to do with a world that physical eyes cannot see, a world one
inhabited before one descended into a body: the spiritual world. One
also realizes that even the laws governing our planetary system are
of a kind unrelated to the world we enter with enlivened thinking. I
am deliberately putting it in an old-fashioned way and saying that
one would have to go to the ends of the planetary system to reach the
world where what one grasps in living thinking has its true
significance. One would have to go beyond Saturn to find the world
where living thoughts apply, but where we also discover the cosmic
source of creativity on earth.
This is the first
step we take to go out again into the universe in an age that
otherwise regards itself as living on a mere speck of dust in the
cosmos. It is the first advance toward a possibility of seeing what
is really out there, seeing it with living thinking. One transcends
the bounds of the planetary system.
If you consider the
human will further as I have done in my
Philosophy of Freedom,
though in that book I limited the discussion entirely to the world of the
senses, keeping more advanced aspects for later works because matters like
these have to be gradually developed, one finds that just as one is
carried beyond Saturn into the universe when the will strikes into
formerly passive thinking, so one can advance on the opposite side by
entering deeply into the will to the extent of becoming wholly
quiescent, by becoming a pole of stillness in the motion one
otherwise engenders in the world of will. Our bodies are in motion
when we will. Even when that will is nothing more than a wish, bodily
matter comes into movement. Willing is motion for ordinary
consciousness. When a person wills, he becomes a part of the world's
movement.
Now if one does the
exercises described in my book,
Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and its Attainment,
and thereby succeeds in opposing one's own
deliberate inner quiet to this motion in which one is caught up in
every act of willing, if — to put it in a picture that can be
applied to all will activity — one succeeds in keeping the soul
still while the body moves through space, succeeds in being active in
the world while the soul remains quiet, carries on activity and at
the same time quietly observes it, then thinking suffuses the will
just as the will previously suffused thinking.
When this happens,
one comes out on the opposite side of the world. One gets to know the
will as something that can also free itself from the physical body,
that can even transport one out of the realm subject to ordinary
earth laws. This brings one knowledge of an especially significant
fact that throws light on man's connection with the universe. One
learns to say, “You harbor in your will sphere a great variety
of drives, instincts and passions. But none of them belong to the
world about which you learn in your experiments, restricted as they
are to the earthly sense world. Nor are they to be found in corpses.
They belong to a different world that merely extends into this one, a
world that keeps its activity quite separate from everything that has
to do with the sense world.”
I am only giving you
a sketch of these matters today because I want to characterize the
third phase of anthroposophy. One comes to enter the universe from
its opposite side, the side given its external character by the
physical moon. The moon repels rather than absorbs sunlight; it
leaves sunlight just as it was by reflecting it back from its
surface, and it rays back other cosmic forces in a similar way. It
excludes them, for it belongs to a different world than that that
gives us the capacity to see. Light enables us to see, but the moon
rays back the light, refusing to absorb it. Thinking that lays hold
on itself in inner activity carries us on the one side as far as
Saturn; laying hold on our will leads us on the other side into the
moon's activity. We learn to relate man to the cosmos. We are led out
of and beyond a grain-of-dust earth. Learning elevates itself again
to a concern with the cosmos, and we re-discover elements in the
universe that live in us too as soul-spiritual beings. When, on the
one hand, we have achieved a soul condition in which our thinking is
rendered active by its suffusion with will, and, on the other hand,
achieve the suffusion of our will with thinking, then we reach the
boundaries of the planetary system, going out into the Saturn realm
on the one side while we go out into the universe on the other side
and enter the moon sphere. When our consciousness feels as much at
home in the universe as it does on earth, and then experiences what
goes on in the universe as familiarly as our ordinary consciousness
experiences things of earth, when we live thus consciously in the
universe and achieve self-awareness there, we begin to remember
earlier earth lives. Our successive incarnations become a fact
experienced in the cosmic memory to which we have now gained
access.
It need not surprise
us that we cannot remember earlier lives on earth while we are
incarnated. For what we experience in the intervals between them is
not earthly experience, and the effect of one life on the next takes
place only as a result of man's lifting himself out of the realm of
earth. How could a person recall his earlier incarnations unless he
first raised his consciousness to a heavenly level?
I wanted just to
sketch these things today, for they have often been discussed by me
here before. What I had in mind was to indicate the regions in which,
in recent years, anthroposophy has been carrying on its research.
Those interested in weighing what has been going on surely recall how
consistently my more recent lectures have concerned themselves with
just these realms. Their purpose was gradually to clarify the process
whereby one develops from an ordinary consciousness to a higher one.
Though I have always said that ordinary thinking can, if it is
unprejudiced, grasp the findings of anthroposophical research, I have
also emphasized that everybody can attain today to a state of
consciousness whereby he is able to develop a new kind of thinking
and willing, which give him entry to the world whereof anthroposophy
speaks. The essential thing would be to change the habit of reading
books like my
Philosophy of Freedom
with the mental attitude one has toward other
philosophical treatises. The way it should be read is with attention
to the fact that it brings one to a wholly different way of thinking
and willing and looking at things. If this were done, one would
realize that such an approach lifts one's consciousness out of the
earth into another world, and that one derives from it the kind of
inner assurance that makes it possible to speak with conviction about
the results of spiritual research. Those who read
The Philosophy of Freedom
as it should be read, speak with inner conviction and assurance about the
findings of researchers who have gone beyond the state one has oneself
reached as a beginner. But the right way of reading
The Philosophy of Freedom
makes everyone who adopts it the kind of beginner I am describing.
Beginners like these can report the more detailed findings of advanced
research in exactly the same way in which a person at home in chemistry
would talk of research in that field. Although he may not actually have
seen it done, it is familiar to him from what he has learned and
heard and knows as part of reality. The vital thing in discussing
anthroposophy is always to develop a certain soul attitude, not just
to project a picture of the world different from the generally
accepted one.
The trouble is that
The Philosophy of Freedom
has not been read in the different way I have been describing. That
is the point, and a point that must be sharply stressed if the
development of the Anthroposophical Society is not to fall far behind
that of anthroposophy itself. If it does fall behind, anthroposophy's
conveyance through the Society will result in its being completely
misunderstood, and its only fruit will be endless conflict!
Now I want to try to
improve the present state of things by speaking briefly about the
three phases of the Anthroposophical Society. A start was made with
the presentation of anthroposophy about two decades ago. I say two
decades, but it was definitely already there in seed form in such
writings as my
Philosophy of Freedom
and works on Goethe's world conception. But the
presentation of anthroposophy as such began two decades ago. You will
see from what I am about to say that it did begin to be presented as
anthroposophy at that time.
When, in the opening
years of the Twentieth Century, I gave my first Berlin lectures
(those printed under the title,
Mysticism at the Dawn of the New Age),
I was invited by the Theosophical Society to participate in its work. I
myself did not seek out the Theosophical Society. People who belonged
to it thought that what I was saying in my lectures, purely in
pursuit of my own path of knowledge, was something they too would
like to hear. I saw that the theosophists wanted to listen to what
was being presented, and my attitude about it was that I would always
address any audience interested in hearing me. Though my previous
comments on the Theosophical Society had not always been exactly
friendly and continued in the same vein afterwards, I saw no reason
to refuse its invitation to lay before it material that had been
given me for presentation by the spiritual world. That I presented it
as anthroposophy is clear from the fact that at the very moment when
the German section of the Theosophical Society was being founded, I
was independently holding a lecture cycle
[From Zarathustra to Nietzsche. History of Human
Evolution Based on the World Conception of the Orient up to the
Present, or Anthroposophy, 1902–3. No manuscript of these
lectures is available.]
not only about
anthroposophy but with the name anthroposophy included in the title.
The founding of the German section of the Theosophical Society and my
lecture cycle on anthroposophy took place simultaneously. The aim,
right from the beginning, was to present pure anthroposophy.
That was the start of
the first phase of the Anthroposophical Movement. It was first
exemplified in those members of the German section who were ready to
absorb anthroposophy, and further groups of theosophists joined
them.
During this first
phase, the Anthroposophical Society led an embryonic existence within
the Theosophical Society. It grew, as I say, within the Theosophical
Society, but developed nevertheless as the Anthroposophical Society.
In this first phase it had a special mission, that of counterposing
the spirituality of Western civilization, centered in the Mystery of
Golgotha, to the Theosophical Society's course, which was based on a
traditional acceptance of ancient Oriental wisdom.
This first phase of
the Anthroposophical Movement lasted until 1908 or 1909. Anyone who
goes back over the history of the Movement can easily see for
himself how definitely all the findings made on the score of
prenatal existence, reincarnation and the like — findings made
on the basis of direct experience in the present, not of ancient
traditions handed down through the ages — were oriented around
that evolutionary development in man's life on earth that centered in
the Mystery of Golgotha and the Christ impulse. The Gospels were
worked through, along with a great deal else. By the time it became
possible for the Anthroposophical Movement to make the transition
over into artistic forms of revelation, as was done with the
presentation of my mystery plays, the content of anthroposophy had
been worked out and related to its central core, the Mystery of
Golgotha.
Then came the time
when the Theosophical Society was sidetracked into a strange
development. Since it had no understanding of the Mystery of
Golgotha, it committed the absurdity, among others, of proclaiming to
the world that a certain young man of the present was the
reincarnated Christ. Certainly no serious person could have tolerated
any such nonsense; it appeared ridiculous in Western eyes. But
anthroposophy had been developed as part of Western civilization,
with the result that the Mystery of Golgotha appeared in a wholly new
light in anthroposophical teaching. This led to the differences with
the Theosophical Society that culminated in the virtual expulsion of
all the anthroposophists. They didn't mind that because it didn't
change anthroposophy in any way. I myself had never presented
anything but anthroposophy to those interested in hearing about it,
and that includes the period during which anthroposophy was outwardly
contained by the Theosophical Society.
Then the second phase
of the Anthroposophical Movement began. This phase was built on a
foundation that already included the most important teachings about
destiny, repeated earth-lives, and the Mystery of Golgotha in a
spiritual illumination fully keyed to present day civilization. It
included interpretations of the Gospels that reconciled tradition
with what modern man can grasp with the help of the Christ who lives
and is active in the present.
The second phase,
which lasted to 1916 or 1917, was spent in a great survey of the
accepted science and practical concerns of contemporary civilization.
We had to show how anthroposophy can be related to and harmonized
with modern science and art and practical life at their deeper
levels. You need only consider such examples as my lecture cycles of
that period, one held in Christiania in 1910 on the European folk
souls, the other at Prague in 1911 on the subject of occult
physiology, and you will see that anthroposophy's second phase was
devoted to working out its relationship to the sciences and practical
concerns of the day. The cycles mentioned are just two examples; the
overall aim was to find the way to relate to modern science and
practice.
During this second
phase of the Society's life, everything centered around the goal of
finding a number of people whose inner attitude was such that they
were able to listen to what anthroposophy was saying. More and more
such people were found. All that was necessary was for people to come
together in a state of soul genuinely open to anthroposophy. That
laid the foundation for an anthroposophical community of sorts. The
task became one of simply meeting the interest of these people who,
in the course of modern man's inner evolution, had reached the point
where they could bring some understanding to anthroposophy. They had
to be given what they needed for their soul development. It was just
a matter of presenting anthroposophy, and it was not a matter of any
great concern whether the people who found their way to anthroposophy
during the Society's first two phases foregathered in sect-like
little groups or came to public lectures and the like. What was
important was to base absolutely everything on a foundation of
honestly researched knowledge, and then to go ahead and present it.
It was quite possible to do this satisfactorily in the kind of
Anthroposophical Society that had been developing.
Another aspect of the
second phase was the further development of the artistic element.
About halfway through it, the plan to build the Goetheanum took
shape. A trend that began with the Mystery Plays was thus carried
into the realms of architecture, sculpture and painting. Then
eurythmy, the elements of which I have often characterized in my
introductory talks at performances, was brought into the picture. All
this came into existence from sources to which access is gained on
the path sketched in
Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and its Attainment,
sketched in sufficient detail, however, to be understood and followed
by anyone really desirous of taking that path.
This second phase of
the Society's life was made especially difficult by the outbreak of
the frightful war that then overran Europe and modern civilization.
It was especially hard to bring the tiny ship of anthroposophy
through the storms of this period, when mistrust and hatred were
flooding the entire civilized world. The fact that the Goetheanum was
located in a neutral country in a time when borders were closed often
made it hard to reach. But the reasons for believing in the sincerity
of anthroposophical efforts were more firmly founded on fact, even
during the war, than any reasons for mistrusting it afterwards. It
can truly be said that the war period brought no real disruption of
the work; it continued on. As I have already mentioned, a large
number of individuals from many different European countries
confronting one another in hate and enmity on the battlefields worked
together in a peaceful and anthroposophical spirit on the Goetheanum,
which we have now lost in the terrible disaster of the fire.
Then came the third
phase of the Movement, the phase in which a number of individuals
started all kinds of activities. As I have stressed here as well as
elsewhere, these undertakings were good things in themselves. But
they had to be started with an iron will and appropriately followed
through. The Threefold Movement, later called the Union for Free
Spiritual Life, the Union for Higher Education, and so on, had to be
undertaken with the clear intention of putting one's whole being
irrevocably behind them. It was no longer possible, in the third
phase, to rest content with the simple presentation of anthroposophy
and merely to foregather with people whose inner search had led them
to it. Instead, a number of individuals wanted to undertake this or
that project, and they did so. This created all kinds of groupings in
addition to the original purely anthroposophical community.
One of them was the
scientific movement. It was built on the foundation of relationships
of anthroposophy to science that had been established during the
second phase. Scientists made their appearance in our midst. They had
the task of giving modern science what anthroposophy had to offer.
But there should have been a continuation of what I had begun in the
way of building relationships to contemporary science. Perhaps I may
remind you of lectures I gave during the second phase of the
Movement. I was always calling attention, for example, to the way
modern physicists come to their particular mode of thinking. I did
not reject their thinking; I accepted it and took it for my own point
of departure, as when I said that if we start where the physicists
leave off, we will get from physics into anthroposophy. I did the
same thing in the case of other aspects of learning. This attitude,
this way of relating, should have continued to prevail. If that had
happened, the result would have been a different development of
scientific activity than the one we have been witnessing during this
third phase. Most importantly, we would have been saved from what I
described at the earlier meeting as fruitless argumentation and
polemics. Then we would presently be faced with a positive task, and
could say that anthroposophy does indeed have a contribution to make
to science, that it can help science go forward along a certain path,
and in what specific way that can be accomplished. The outcome would
have been a different attitude toward science than that evidenced in
a recent issue of Die Drei,
indeed in several issues that I looked over in connection with the
cycle of lectures on science given by me last Christmastide in
Dornach. I was horrified at the way science and anthroposophy were
treated there; it was harmful to both. Anthroposophy is put in an
unfavorable light when anthroposophists engage in such unfruitful
polemics. I say this not for the sake of criticizing but to point out
what the task of the scientists in the Society is.
Something of the same
kind ought to be happening in other respects as well. Let us take a
case in point; I called attention to it on the occasion of my last
lecture here.
In the third phase of
the Movement, we saw the Union for Higher Education come into being.
It had an excellent program. But somebody should have stayed with it
and put all of himself behind it, made himself fully responsible for
it. My only responsibility was for anthroposophy itself. So when
someone else starts an independent enterprise founded on
anthroposophy, that project becomes his responsibility. In the case I
am discussing, nobody stayed with that responsibility, though I had
called attention to the necessity of doing so at the time the program
was being drawn up. I said that programs of this kind should be
started only if an iron determination exists to carry them through;
otherwise, they ought never to be launched. In this case it was the
group guiding the Society that failed to stay behind it.
What was the outcome?
The outcome was that a number of young people from the student
movement, motivated by an intense longing for true anthroposophy but
unable to find what they were looking for in the Society, sought out
the living source of anthroposophy. They said expressly that they
wanted to know the artistic aspects of anthroposophy as well as the
others. They approached Frau Dr. Steiner with the intention of being
helped by recitation and declamation to experience what I might call
the anthroposophical swing of things.
Another development
was taking place alongside this one, my dear friends. In the third
phase of the Movement, the spiritual worlds were being described in
the way I described them at the beginning of my lecture today when I
gave a short sketch of a certain matter from the standpoint of purely
spiritual contemplation, from a level where it is possible to show
how one develops a different consciousness and thereby gains access
to the spiritual world. The first and second phases were concerned
with relating the Movement to the Mystery of Golgotha, to science, to
the practical conduct of life. The third phase added the direct
portrayal of spiritual realms. Anyone who has kept up with the
efforts that were made during these three phases in Dornach and here
too, for example, anyone with a real feeling for the advance
represented by the third phase over the first and second phases,
anyone aware to what extent it has been possible in recent years to
spread anthroposophy beyond the boundaries of Central Europe, will
notice that we are concerned with bringing into being a really new
third phase in direct continuation and further development of the
first two phases. Had we not entered the third phase, it would not
really have been possible to develop the Waldorf School pedagogy,
which is based on taking man's eternal as well as temporal nature
into account.
Now please compare
the discussions of yesterday and the week before with what I have
just been saying in the interests of frank speaking and without the
least intention of criticizing anyone, and ask yourselves what
changes these three phases of our work have effected in the Society.
Would not these same discussions, identical as to content, have been
just as conceivable sixteen or eighteen years ago as they are today,
when we have two decades of anthroposophical work behind us? Does it
not seem as though we were back at the founding of the Society?
I repeat that I have
no desire to criticize anybody. But the Anthroposophical Society can
amount to something only if it is made the nurturing ground of
everything that anthroposophy is working to achieve, and only if our
scientists, to take an example, always keep in mind that
anthroposophy may not be neglected in favor of science, but rather
made the crowning peak of science's most recent developments. Our
scientists should take care not to expose anthroposophy to scientific
attack with their fruitless polemics.
Teachers have a
similar task, and, to a special degree, people engaged in practical
life. For their functions are of the kind that draws the heaviest
fire against anthroposophy, which, despite its special potential for
practicality, is most viciously attacked as being impractical.
So the Society is
presently faced with the necessity of being more than a mere onlooker
at really anthroposophical work going on elsewhere, more than just
the founder of other enterprises that it fails to provide with truly
anthroposophical zeal and enthusiasm. It needs to focus consciously
on anthroposophical work. This is a completely positive statement of
its mission, which needs only be worked out in detail. If this
positive task is not undertaken, the Anthroposophical Society can
only do anthroposophy more and more harm in the world's regard. How
many enemies has the Threefold Movement not created for the
Anthroposophical Movement with its failure to understand how to
relate itself to anthroposophy! Instead, it made compromise after
compromise, until people in certain quarters began to despise
anthroposophy. We have seen similar things happen elsewhere. As I
said in my first lecture here, we must realize that anthroposophy is
the parent of this movement. That fact should be recognized. If it
had been, a right relationship to the Movement for Religious Renewal,
which I helped launch, would have resulted. Instead, everything in
that area has also gone amiss. I am therefore concerned, on this
grave occasion, to find words that can serve as guides to positive
work, to get us beyond fruitless talk of the sort that takes us back
two decades and makes it seem as though no anthroposophical work had
been accomplished.
Please do not take
offense at my speaking to you as I have today, my dear friends. I had
to do it. As I said in Dornach on January 6th last, the
Anthroposophical Society is good; it is capable of listening
receptively to even the sharpest parts of my characterization. But
the guiding elements in the Society must become aware that if the
Society is to earn its name in future, they must make themselves
responsible for keeping it the conscious carrier of the work. The
conflicts that have broken out will end at the moment when the need
for such a consciousness is clearly and adequately recognized in a
spirit of goodwill. But there has to be goodwill for that need to be
brought out into the open and any fruitless criticism dropped.
Furthermore, there is no use giving oneself up to comfortable
illusions, making compromises in adjustments between one movement and
another, only to end up again in the same old jog-trot. It is time to
be absolutely serious about anthroposophical work, and all the single
movements must work together to achieve this goal. We cannot rest
content to have a separate Waldorf School movement, a separate
Movement for Religious Renewal, a separate Movement for Free
Spiritual Life. Each will flourish only if all feel that they belong
to the Anthroposophical Movement.
I am sure that
everyone truly concerned for the Movement is saying the same thing in
his heart. That is the reason I allowed myself to express it as
sharply as I did today. Most of you were already aware of the need
for a clear statement that could lead to the establishment of the
consciousness I have described as so essential.
The Movement has now
gone through three phases, during the last of which anthroposophy has
been neglected in favor of various offspring movements. It must be
re-discovered as the living spiritual movement demanded by modern
civilized life and, most especially, by modern hearts. Please take my
words as meant to serve that purpose. If they have sounded sharp,
please consider them the more sincerely offered. They were intended
not as an invitation to any further caustic deliberations but as a
challenge to join in a Movement guided by a true heart for
anthroposophy.
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