REINCARNATION IN
THE LIGHT OF ETHICS
ONE often hears from opponents of the idea of
reincarnation that that idea does serious harm to ethical life. Man
defers serious effort because he has still time, and no longer feels
the full weight of obligation in this life. Man feels himself
powerless under an inescapable law, his fate predestined in this
life, and himself fettered also in a future life. A calculating
morality, instead of a living in freedom, enters into his life. As
evidence of such assertions, tales of missionaries are brought
forward, of how life in the East is without hope under the rule of
the law of karma.
Missionaries may be
admirable men, yet one would not place into their hands the final
decision as to the value of religions. Nor does the India of today
tell us much about the India of former days, and a degenerate
doctrine of the transmigration of souls tells us little about a
future knowledge of reincarnation which is illuminated by
Christianity.
Always, when a new
view was brought forward, men prophesied the ruin of humanity. And
those who prophesied have seldom been real prophets. When Luther came
announcing the grace of God, the Catholic theologians painted in dark
colours the coming immorality. Since then the centuries have
pronounced judgment. The morality of Protestant lands can hold up its
head before the morality of Catholic lands. Then the Lutherans seized
their palettes and sought the darkest colours, when they heard of
Calvin's doctrine of election. The world was to go under in
black swathes of hopelessness and despair. The truth was otherwise.
In Protestant lands under this doctrine of election, a new morality
unfolded itself. Will people never learn from such experiences? Will
people never allow those to speak who have for years led their lives
in the light of the idea of reincarnation? Will people again of
themselves decide what must be the effect of an opinion, without
seeing what effect it actually has?
Let us start from
personal experience. I have often had to do with people who laid bare
their fate to me. They were seeking to understand what had happened
to them. Old Christian thought had no place in their souls. In
general, neither it, nor what Church opinion has to say about the
destiny of men, had power to act upon them any longer. Should I?
Should I not? Sometimes I deliberated a long time whether I could
undertake the responsibility of introducing thoughts of reincarnation
into a man's life, whether I myself were sure enough of its
truth. Ultimately — it is already ten or twenty years ago
— I said something like this, “How would it be if you
were to consider whether your present fate is connected with events
and acts of your past life? Might not some destiny derived from a
past life be now seeking its equalisation?” —
“What, do you believe that we have already been upon the
earth?” — “What I believe does not matter. We shall
try together to seek for a light upon the present case. Earnest men
have held reincarnation to be possible, even certain. Under such a
presupposition how should we have to think about life?”
When I think today
about the many hours in which I have thought about destiny in a
similar way along with other people—never dogmatically, always
hypothetically; never fancifully, always ethically — there
remains clearly in my remembrance how gently the gates opened to a
higher understanding of destiny, to a higher surmise of it. Comfort
came down, comfort such as flows from a living surmise of a wise
governance, of whose secrets man can catch many a glimmering if he
calmly reviews his own past life. The way to understanding was
opened; and the man felt himself to be taken seriously as a man of
today, because his wish to understand was not discouraged, but
sustained and carefully guided.
I know well what
objections may be raised. People who are inclined to ethically
religious views will say, “One ought not in studying destiny to
ask Why?” but ought to try to solve the problem by asking, to
what end? The question Why? leads to uncertainty; the question to
what end? leads along a definite path and shows us at least the first
steps out of our need. And the question Why? is illuminated only when
the question to what end? is answered. Certainly, one may thus talk.
For years I myself did not know any other answer. And in many cases
it will be the right answer. But some special case may reveal to one
that in such an answer a compulsory resignation speaks, that through
such an answer a living need of man, especially of man today, may be
merely repressed.
A mother has an
incurable mentally defective child. What can one say to her? The best
that can be said from a religious point of view is contained in the
following course of thought: If there were no destinies which were
completely dark and hopeless, man could not develop the deepest trust
in the divine guidance of his life. Those impressions of life by
which he receives light from above, ought to strengthen him for those
in which only darkness surrounds him at first. Thus man is tested and
tried. Thus his union with God becomes perfect and unconditional. And
again, unless there were those who could never thank us for what we
did for them, because their minds were completely darkened, then our
love for men could not attain to the purest unselfishness, to perfect
greatness. One can speak warmly and effectively about that. Thus
spoke the best of those who had the “cure of souls” in
the past. But does one not feel the inhumanity, which infects such
consolation? From out of her love, the mother will put the agonised
question, ‘But what will become of my child? Is it just that my
child should suffer this fate so that I may learn, so that I may be
proved. May a man or a god permit a human being to become the means
to an end for another person's sake?
Then the pastor will
still have this to say “We shall try to illuminate this dark
destiny from the point where we ourselves stand, by the effect which
it has upon ourselves: and starting from this, we shall try to gain
the conviction that it will be lit up also at the point where we do
not immediately stand.” But if the pastor has a heart, he will
not let all paths end in a great incomprehensibility, but he will
feel himself compelled to light at least a tiny candle of hope, with
some “Perhaps”!
When I was in such a
case, I learned one day that Rudolf Steiner's investigations
had shown that highly-gifted philanthropists have sometimes been
mentally defective in their earlier lives. When such was their fate
they were thrown completely upon the loving help of those around
them. On the other hand, this loving help may have penetrated
directly into their minds, without being intercepted and analysed by
their understanding. The experiences of such a life might indeed be
changed into a deep, instinctive genius for the love of humanity.
I cannot describe the
impression this report made upon me. I now became conscious how much
one has sought inwardly for such solutions, for such possibilities of
a solution; how much one has expected to receive them from a higher
world after death. It passed over my soul like a mighty foretaste of
the revelations which await man after death. Certainly one must go
carefully with such information. Man with his grimy hands can soil
everything. And he has soiled everything that has been given him. But
when afterwards, in talking with a mother, one carefully raised the
curtain which hid these possibilities, then one knew why such a sight
had been given to one.
That which earlier
generations have said about sorrow does not lose its value. For
“trust” also there remains a wide field; a new kingdom
also is opened to it. But a new Friend enters man's life and
one which will appeal to the man of today who will share in the
events of the world more freely and more consciously, and will also
live his own life more freely and consciously. It is not insolence
and a prying spirit which compels him to this, but an awakened power
of thinking and a strengthened consciousness of freedom. The most
barrenly superficial person may say “How have I deserved
this?” but this question may also be asked by an ego which
would fain become one with a greater ego, which feels in its destiny
that it can become one with this ego only if it has found in it a
deep morality; which wills to shape its own destiny from its insight
into such a higher ego.
But have we now
solved the question of destiny? Is it not merely pushed further away?
How came it that in earlier lives men had to bear differing fates,
wrought on differing plans, had to stand differing trials? Experience
teaches that, practically man in the mass does not feel the need of
questioning further and further back, as those who put theoretical
problems think he does. It is enough for him to see some distance
along his path, both backwards and forwards, and from this stretch of
his road to divine the whole. Plenty of secrets remain. Nothing is
more childish than to reproach the man of discernment with destroying
“secrecy.” The world around us has a wealth of secrets
that we might go on “destroying” calmly for some millions
of years, and then stand, still questioning before the primal secret.
It is just as naive to tell him he has only “pushed the problem
further back.” In the realm of physics one is thankful to
anyone who can push the problem only a little way further off, and
one expects no more than that from one human life. But through the
knowledge of reincarnation, a highly significant step forward has
been taken in solving the question of man and his destiny.
The dramas of Ibsen
show how modern humanity has reached this question. And the doctrine
of heredity has immensely increased the burden of it. Humanity will
break down, not under the weight of the doctrine of reincarnation,
but under the weight of the doctrine of heredity, unless the doctrine
of reincarnation is added to it. The thought of heredity drives a man
to suicide, the thought of reincarnation leads him to resurrection.
It gives a man a new power of saying Yes to his destiny, and a new
power of saying No to it. Yes, because he understands it, No, because
he sees the possibility of release. Rudolf Steiner has shown how in
many kinds of diseases the effects of perversity of soul in a former
life are continuing to act, and how, also, in these diseases the
bodily condition gives help against an existing lack of character.
The man of the future will be able to carry on in a grander style the
struggle with his destiny. He will see his destiny to be greater than
life. He will be able to lift his head above the clouds which hem in
his fate. Out of a higher ego, he will be able to fit this one life
into the greater plan for life. He will redemptively endure a heavy
fate right to its end, and lift the meaning of this fate upon a
higher path across the ages. It will no longer be
“Kismet” which he endures, that is his
“share” of destiny allotted to him, no longer
“Fate,” that is God's predestined decree which is
fulfilled in him. Rather he will talk with his “angel,”
and as he speaks with his angel it is his higher ego speaking within
him. And as he says “yes” to destiny, his higher ego
enters into him and takes up its lasting abode with him. All men feel
the hand of “Kismet,” many feel the hand of
“Fate.” Few look into the face of destiny and see in it
the face of the divine spirit, which welds the little destinies of
life into a great whole above time and space. Sometimes, indeed, when
we survey our destiny with purer and freer gaze, we feel that we
would ourselves have disciplined ourselves in no other way. At such
moments we are looking at our lives through the eyes of our angel. We
are helped to take this view of our life by the idea of
reincarnation, which raises us inwardly above the individual life. As
Nietzsche once, upon the memorable 1st of January, 1883, wished for
himself that he might have a “love of destiny” (amor
fati), and vowed: “I will some day be one who says Yes to
destiny” — then his spirit looked in prescience to these
heights. But his longing grasped at something which lay beyond his
knowing; and so he sank down again into the everlasting
“No.” Love of destiny is gained in proportion as we
become united with the ego, which leads us on through one life to
another life, according as we use it all the more rightly. Love of
destiny is, possible, if it is at the same time love of one's
own higher self. The Indian sought reconciliation with his fate; the
Greek strove for freedom from his fate; the Christian endeavoured to
resign himself to his fate. But such a resignation can become love
which knows, and so may reach its real value. When the light of the
wisdom of the spirit which guides us once begins to shine in our
earthly consciousness, then we begin to feel as if we must rejoice in
our destiny.
Till now we have
turned our attention to understanding our fate as it acts upon the
present out of the past. But the thought of reincarnation acquires
— if it actively lays hold of a man's being and does not
merely move him as a problem of thought — especial meaning for
his future, his task, his endeavour. He will then see how trifling
the impulse to personal endeavour was, which came from Christianity
up till now, and how much force and will-power therefore lay fallow
in humanity.
Catholicism has its
striving for sanctity, but that is clothed in the garment of merit.
It retains the character of a fulfilment of laws or commandments. It
lacks insight into an organism of human evolution which must be
perfected step by step in freedom, and extend beyond this one life.
This is still more lacking in Protestantism, which has attached
itself more and more to “secular ethics.” But this ethic
itself is on the point of collapse because it has lost its
metaphysical background; and therefore there remains only
considerations of utility, of happiness, of custom. There are no sure
points of view which can lead to the perfecting of humanity.
Therefore in the whole cultural world of Protestantism a kind of
professional morality stands in the forefront. A man must prove
himself by the demands of life; and religion, where it still finds
credence, gives strength for this. After death, marvellous
transformations are in store for all as well as for the individual.
These considerations are still active even among those who have freed
themselves from the dogmas of the church, but there is no stronger
motive still existing for striving towards personal perfection. By
such ideas of the life beyond, this striving is crippled and
the result is that all calls to “self training,” which
emerge unconsciously and instinctively from the will of the age, come
to men in the form of a materialistic egotism, e.g., as
Coueism, or the Yogi methods of American business men.
In respect of these
facts, the idea of reincarnation has a very great significance for
humanity. And also all general hopes of “development after
death,” which have appeared here and there are of no importance
compared with the living power which lies in a clear and detailed
account of human evolution — even if one cannot fully, out of
one's personal conviction, agree to all its details.
The man who lives in
the light of the idea of reincarnation, knows that all his
endeavours, that even his most secret will, has the full value of
reality, which is working itself out in the whole cosmos. He knows
that this most secret endeavour is important, not only because after
death “all will be laid open,” but because the meaning
which such a striving has for the future, for his own as well as for
the world's future, will be clearly shown forth.
We are not teaching a
selfish endeavour after perfecting one's own self. Only
misunderstanding, deliberate or unconscious, can thus distort our
point of view. Egotism in his striving for perfection would —
according to the spiritual relationship in which the doctrine of
reincarnation appears in Anthroposophy — lead a man into
Luciferianism, and in the most dangerous way, turn him aside from the
divinely willed evolving of the world. To strive after perfection can
be wholesome, and act wholesomely only when it proceeds from free
insight into a divine will, when it consists in a reverent receiving
of the divine power to help, and in being willing to allow that power
to come to full activity when it aims at producing one who will be a
fellow-worker, qualified as highly as possible; in the divine
guidance of the world. Only when carried on in this sense, is the
striving for perfection upon the right path to Anthroposophical
ideas. Every other representation of it is a misunderstanding if not
something worse, and every other method leads astray, leads to
corruption. Therefore the spiritual edifice of Anthroposophy is built
up, not upon directions for self-perfecting, but upon the light it
throws upon one's view of the world, out of which the
individual himself must draw the impulse to endeavour in insight and
freedom.
One cannot describe
the wholesome feeling of fitting into the whole cosmos, which a man
has when he once admits such thoughts into his mind. He is not
labouring for the sake of the results, nor for his own well-being,
nor for personal holiness, he is building the man of the future, he
is building a future world. A free will has united itself, has given
itself to a higher will which is striving to the far off goal of the
world. Even the smallest step we succeed in taking in our meditation
is seen to be connected with great spiritual issues. And he who does
anything contrary to the divine powers, or even seeks to reach his
goal without them, is not damned in the mediæval sense, but shut
out from the divinely willed evolution of the world. To will with
them and for them is our task. If we are idle, we are only deferring
that which must happen if we wish to become men of the future, and
are creating new difficulties for ourselves. Not with a ceaseless and
equal pace does man advance upon the way to perfection; but the
divine powers always take him to their heart, as a mother takes her
child, when it has made an attempt to walk. Again he is released,
with new powers and tasks, and always with the same protection. That
which man accomplishes, not in the full view of others, but in the
most secret chambers of his heart, bears fruit in the realm of the
spirit, for himself and the whole world. But the decisive help for
men is the divine deed of Christ. Yet man cannot be spared the duty
of changing Christ's help into his own free will. The effect of
such an idea can only be felt to be wholesome. in the highest and most
spiritual sense.
* * *
Let us turn the light
of the thought of reincarnation upon two spheres especially, in which
humanity today shows its helplessness suicide, and the question of
sex.
Anyone to whom
reincarnation seems probable or even only possible, will perceive
that there is no greater self-deception than for a man to believe he
can “make an end” of his life. Rudolf Steiner has
described in detail, out of spiritual perception, how such souls
suffer after death because of the want of a body which has not done
its full service to them; how they suffer under the knowledge that
they have made a blunder in a destiny which must now he put to
rights; under the knowledge that they have only slunk away from tests
which had been assigned to them, and which still remain for them to
attempt. This is no external or internal condemnation of the suicide;
but an agony of soul, whose necessity and reality is placed
illuminatingly before us.
Karl Hauptman has
seen the essential nature of suicide to lie in this, that one thing
in the man destroys the other things that are in him. But of what use
is it when two who are united in marriage and cannot bear one
another, say to one another, “It is no use, we must go into
another room together; only by doing that can everything come right
again!” To commit suicide is just as clever — supposing
the other agrees to go — it is just as sensible as that resolve
would be. It is a changing of place; everything else remains. Yes,
many things become worse through the violent change of scene.
The fact that suicide
is threatening to take the upper hand, shows, as few other facts do,
that the old moral ties are becoming loosened throughout humanity,
that new moral forces are necessary if men are to take the place of
their earthly activity, apart from its acceptability to them, in full
earnestness, and not as it pleases them to take it. The old church
ideas, have lost both their terrors and their power to compel. Can we
see in the idea of reincarnation a help which is sent to us at the
right time? It will not give a man a distaste for suicide, merely
because it is forbidden by religion and objectionable to morality;
but it will allow him to see how the world is fitted together in the
course of the divine ordering, and so he is able himself to form his
own resolve, in freedom and knowledge.
If a “league
against suicide” were formed to mobilise and concentrate all
the forces which are against suicide, it would avail little, if
humanity did not have a new power of cormprehension. According to the
doctrine of reincarnation, suicide is the most useless and
unreasonable action man can do.
The other question
which faces humanity in our days is the sexual problem. In the
ethical commands and customs of the past, a form of authority speaks
to us, which makes no appeal to modern man. What does he care what
other men did, or how he himself harms or helps society? If he asks
why, he wants quite other reasons in answer, The old morality has
gone, humanity is finally losing Moses: even the Moses who still
lives on in the Churches as a code of morals. One need be neither a
canting bigot nor a Philistine when one looks with anxiety to the
future of humanity. A young wife said lately: “The body and its
capacity for enjoyment is the only thing we have.” Towards what
are we evolving? To a “new morality” for which one lays
claim to the beautiful words “truth” and
“freedom?” To depravity? To a return to the old
morality?
What has the doctrine
of reincarnation to say to all this? It does not set up new
commandments, it communicates important facts. The true path of
humanity leads towards the spirit, and every step forward upon this
path is bound up with self-discipline. If anyone gives himself up to
the guidance of his bodily lusts, he throws himself back in his
development as a spiritual being. He is placing acts within the
world, which continue to work both upon himself and upon others. And
for everything that has wrought harm, he must one day give
compensation: he can in no wise escape from doing so. His own being
and actions are always of importance for the world. May he see for
what he can be responsible! “His works do follow
him.”
This has nothing to
do with an ascetic smothering of sexuality; although the hour will
come in the course of human development when sexuality will be laid
aside. We are now dealing with the training of humanity's
life-forces so that they may be serviceable to the spiritual goal of
humanity. The sooner man reaches this training and the higher his
attainments in it, the better for him. Unmastered lusts change in the
spiritual land after death into burning fire, and those, whose
wandering egos have been pushed down to a lower level through our
actions, also come and demand their rights from us. We may not insult
the dignity of the spirit. For man, if he sees the truth, there
remains only, as Plato said, a flight into the good.
The state of
transition in which humanity finds itself today cannot be too clearly
recognised. New spiritual laws are replacing the former moral law.
Man no longer acts as he ought, but as he sees fit. He no longer
listens to a divine will which he does not altogether understand; he
perceives a divine world which speaks for itself clearly enough. It
is no longer tables of spiritual laws, but spiritual facts which
appear before him and speak to him. Can one perceive fully the
entirely different nature of this new thing? Can one recognise it to
be a divine work spoken to the age of insight and freedom?
Nietzsche, who felt
earlier and more deeply than anyone else the inward situation of
humanity in the age of culture, wrote, as is well known, that if
religious faith decreased, then man would learn to realise himself to
be a fugitive and unessential; but he would thereby necessarily
become weak; he would no longer exercise himself in endeavour and
endurance; he would desire momentary enjoyment, he would have no more
ground for expectation: he would make light of life.
Nietzsche's spirit sought anxiously for a “new
influence” He sought it presciently almost in the right place,
If he sought to set up the doctrine of the “eternal return of
equality,” as a new perception of truth for humanity, so that
it might give humanity new inward support, his half-clairvoyant soul
had got near, very near to the truth. But the “eternal return
of equality” kills hope, and lames one's strength.
Reincarnation awakens hope and increases strength. If, instead of his
doctrine of the “return of equality” Nietzsche had found
that of reincarnation then his two doctrines of return and of the
superman would not have fallen apart, but would have fitted into one
another. Reincarnation leads immediately to the service of the
superman, but not only to the superman who comes after us, but also
to the superman in us.
There are changes, of
course, but they are not those which deprive us of our development,
not those in which we should lose ourselves. Just as we take
ourselves with us into our development, so we take our defects with
us also. We cannot cut them off, like our hair or our finger-nails.
They may be changed into virtues, but only through development. The
life after death is extremely different from our present life, but
just because of that, we must remain ourselves, even if we wish only
to recognise ourselves.
And so, when we look
into the background of the world, we are looking into a noble
countenance. In the inward part of the world is not natural law, but
moral law. The morality of the world is the foundation upon which we
all live. The world is becoming moral, and morality is becoming
great. The history of the world is the tribunal which judges the
world. This is the world which Kant sought, and imagined to be after
death. He could not find it in the external world where it goes well
with the evil and badly with the good, and therefore he demanded
compensation in the world beyond, and for the sake of this
compensation he demanded a world beyond. But it was not a matter of
“after this”, but of “behind this.” There was
certainly in his day a “beyond,” lying beyond the
experience of that day; but it did not lie in a change of place, but
in a deeper insight. And when, in reply to Kant, Ludwig Feuerbach
asked: “But who tells us that the universe really corresponds
to our demands and wishes?” a half century later the answer came out
of the background of the world itself. From that time on, man when he
looks into the depths of the universe, is gazing into the countenance
of a holy cosmic morality.
Then we have a new
Moses? Yes! today men still look at the doctrine of reincarnation too
much with the eyes of Moses. For in ancient India also, there was a
time of Moses, when man looked upon reincarnation as a law which made
burdensome demands; and that idea is still active among us. When
Moses commanded “Who so sheddeth man's blood, by man
shall his blood be shed,” he was indeed reading in the book of
cosmic morality; he was training men to the idea of it, but he made a
cosmic law into an earthly commandment, and thus he formed cosmic
morality, but upon too small a pattern. It was good, but too short.
He had not seen, he could not see the ultimate truth, that this
cosmic morality in its deepest form is the cosmic goodness itself.
For goodness is not that which makes me glad, but that which trains
me — which trains me for that which is greatest, and so trains
me for the greatest of all joys, for sharing in the divine life
itself. “Mercy” is to be guided upwards.
“Mercy” is to be allowed to make a recompense
“Mercy” is to grow into unity with the morality of the
world. Within the world is a heart that beats for us. This heart
sympathises with the highest that is in us, with that which is
seeking to evolve in us, and out of it, this that is highest flows to
us. It stamps its own nature upon us, as it looks upon us from all
sides, and so awakens our own best nature. Only in a world in which a
greater ego lives, which man can recognise as the ultimate wish of
his life, only in such a world can men feel at home. The face of
Moses, is lost in the ray of light which streams from the depths: and
out of the inmost place of the cosmos, the Father of the World looks
at us through the face of Christ.
Up till now we have
looked at man more in himself. Now we will look with him out at the
community of men. How is his relationship to others changed?
In his famous
star-aphorism, Friedrich Nietzsche feels that his friendship with
Richard Wagner came to him out of the firmament, Two stars are drawn
to one another out of the cosmic spaces, they greet one another as
they pass, and hurry away out into cosmic space again. In this great
example Nietzsche has realised what every meeting of two people, even
their most fugitive meeting, really is. Stars greet one another in
passing. According to Anthroposophical perception it is true, as old
traditions say, that every man has his star in heaven, and that he is
its earthly expression. Every man a star — yes, every man a
heaven of stars. If one could read in a man's deepest nature
and destiny, one would have a constellation of stars before one. The
forces which are working in his life can be written down in the
language of the stars. Astrology is thrusting itself today more and
more into the spiritual life of humanity; but it comes more out of
ancient experience than out of insight, and it is threatened with an
inoculation of the materialism of our age. When one perceives in the
greater spiritual associations of Anthroposophy, how, after death,
man passes through the world of stars, and is tested there, —
by the inner realities which correspond to the external stars —
then astrology also, with purified face, will look down upon humanity
with all the greatness of its mighty conception of the cosmos.
Is it meaningless if
I can look at a man in such a way? People of finer interests feel in
every conversation that they must know whether the other person is a
being which has sprung up out of nothing, is fading away again, and,
when it dies, is dead; or whether that person is a being whom the
eternities are working upon, to build it up. In the latter case even
every turn of conversation becomes different. Men's usual
conversations merely tickle the soul as they pass, they are unworthy
of a human being; and that men do not feel the tragedy of this
inadequacy is still more deeply tragic. A general hope of immortality
is no longer of use. That which once lived as a vague feeling in man,
and then gradually disappeared, comes back to us now as knowledge out
of the cosmic spaces. That which once comforted men as a dogma, now
seeks to establish itself as a cosmic truth.
Marriage? Where this
is more than a love affair made binding at a registry office, or a
business transaction, there two souls have come into being in the
same period of time, in order to find one another. The myth of Eros,
as Plato tells it in his Symposium, is true, only it is more
individually true, truer to the facts than man could realise in
Plato's time. It is not that the man seeks the woman, but that
this man seeks this woman. And the community of life, prepared in
higher worlds, is fulfilled on earth. Marriages are made in
heaven.
And divorces?
Sometimes people have really lived out to the end [of] their destiny
together, but woe to them if they cut too hastily the knot they ought
to have unloosed. Fates not truly borne wait for them, and will find
them again. Such people will seek one another, until they have met,
and brought to its end that which they have broken off.
The real truth which
is in a marriage will inevitably come to light through death.
Suddenly two people, who have perhaps maintained to the end the lie
that they are united in love, will be miles apart. Other marriages
again will arise from the deep. If two pieces of electrical apparatus
which are tuned to one another can find one another across the whole
globe, much more can two human souls who are in harmony.
Reincarnation teaches not the indissolubility of marriage, but the
deep cosmic seriousness of marriage.
When after his
wife's death Carlyle found in her diary the description of the
sorrows of her life at his side, he cried out: “If I had only
five minutes in which to tell her how dearly I loved her!” A
deeper conception of the further life, and of reincarnation, could
have replied: “You do not need to wish it, you have her now,
and can tell her, and she can hear you. But your wish will also be
fulfilled; you will have her again, and will tell her, and she will
hear.” Reincarnation is mercy.
Just as humanity at
the present time is seeking a new foundation for marriage, so it is
also seeking to put the relationship between parents and children
upon a new basis. This “children's century” has
shown that one must not regard children as smaller adults. But the
mood which has grown up is one which calls for deeper insight. Our
children have not been thrown into our house by chance. They have
sought us, as we have sought them. Perhaps they were careless in the
choice of their parents when they came to live with us; but in any
case they have brought with them a great load of destiny. They go
back just as far as we into the past of humanity, and have, perhaps,
sat at the feet of wiser teachers. They bring with them the charge
laid upon them by their stars, and it has brought them to life-tasks
which lie some tens of years further on than ours. The teaching we
give them can only be a help to development. We cannot decide their
development; we can only watch it. Their ego carries within it its
own mission, and we are the friends of their destiny; all our pride
as adults must be laid aside.
Luther tells us that
his teacher always took off his hat when he entered his classroom.
“There might be a mayor, or a councilor, or a doctor among my
pupils.” By this one saying that man proved himself a true
teacher. In his feeling he lived in a truth which was much truer than
he could then know.
* * *
From this we turn to
the sphere in which at present day there are great struggles and
convulsions — to the social question. What form would these
struggles take in souls which were filled with thoughts of
reincarnation? Epictetus, the Roman slave, tells us in what frame of
mind he endured the lot of a slave. “While we live,” he
says, “one man has to play the part of a king, another that of
a beggar, but after death they will ask us, as they ask the actors,
not ‘What part did you play?’ but, ‘How did you
play your part?’” In these words there still shines an afterglow
from the wisdom of the mysteries. Yet such stories may awaken the
feeling — then the, doctrine of reincarnation is only a new
means of keeping the oppressed classes quiet, a new way of pointing
to this “divinely ordained position of dependence.” But
what is important here is the difference between the ego which is
represented, and the ego which gives the representation. If the slave
lives in the mood of Epictetus, he may feel himself to be the equal
of a king, and, indeed, spiritual investigation shows that, for
example, everyone who oppresses a class or a people will in all
probability be born again as one of those very people. If I cannot
put myself in the place of another, I shall be put in his place;
after death, I myself shall find it to be to my own interest to put
myself in his place, because in his place I can learn most, and can
best atone. After death our desires are changed. The woman who
unfeelingly harasses her maid-servant with every mood, increases from
day to day the probability that she will wear a servant's dress
in her next life. Through a greater sensitiveness we are drawn to
that place where we think our life may be enriched.
In the past it was
said by way of consolation that Death makes all men equal. That
feeling, which died out of men's minds, now comes back to us
again as a riper insight. We men wander together through our
existence for thousands of years. I may probably be meeting the man
who is standing before me, not for the first time, probably not for
the last. That which he outwardly wears is a disguise. His true value
may raise him above me, not only inwardly now, but later also
outwardly. The king is king for this time, the beggar is now a
beggar. Out of such insight into life, if it burns with full power
and warmth in the soul, a new deep human feeling must grow. Is not
our age, this very age of social study, asking that humanity of
feeling shall be established anew on a more sublime foundation? It is
easy to preach this humaneness; it is hard to establish it; without a
new deep insight it cannot be maintained, still less brought to life
again. Every time we meet anyone, we must look at the person, at the
ego which is before us, which is travelling through its incarnations.
The world is waiting for a thought, for a truth which will
re-establish its humaneness.
* * *
Someone may object
that a new basis is more necessary for our relationship to humanity
and its life on earth, than for our relationship to individual men.
Why has traditional Christianity failed, when faced with the social
question? Why can it preach morality only? Because it has not had the
greatest thoughts about the life of human beings upon earth, for
their work upon earth. It spoke only about doing our duty in our
calling, about thankfulness to God and about helping others. But man
must see the positive meaning of his earthly work if he is to apply
himself to it with his best powers. “Remain true to the earth
my brothers!” was Nietzsche's saying in condemnation of
the mood which turns men away from the earth. In him spoke the wish
of a whole age, as it felt the failure of its religious ideas, and
looked for new light upon its earthly task.
In the light of the
thought of reincarnation our work on earth appears quite new. We have
not been thrown by chance by the waves upon the shore of this world,
to get on as best we can until the ship calls to take us home again.
We are the earthly race, united to our earthly home until it
becomes a ruin. Together we have to struggle to gain for the spirit
from the earth that which we can gain from it alone. No god-like race
can do this without man. We are working not only for our children, we
are working for ourselves; we are working for the whole future of the
human race, of which we ourselves are members, when we bring forth
into the light of day all earth's possibilities, when we
impress upon the earth her divine meaning the meaning which men alone
can find. Nothing is lost which happens upon earth for the sake of
the life of humanity; it happens for us, it happens also for the
future of the spirit itself. Only when we have perfected the earth
may we hope to take leave of it, and look for a “new
earth.” Then the earth, and man too, will become spiritual; but
it will become spiritual — as man will — with the results
of all the work done on earth during all the thousands of years.
So our view of
humanity becomes ever broader and greater. The barriers break down
between peoples as well as between classes. Externally they are
overthrown by the modern technique of intercourse, by telegraph and
telephone, by radio and cinematograph. Inwardly they are breaking
down through the idea of reincarnation. If it is we ourselves who
pass on through different nations, what is left of national
fanaticism?
Then our connection
with our own nation is destroyed by the doctrine of reincarnation?
Does not the nation require all the love of its people, which ought
not to flee from it, either as capital or as ideas? Do we not much
rather need a new spiritual basis for the true love of one's
nation so that we may be raised above natural tribal feeling, and
above false racial passions? But this thought brings again the
thought of reincarnation! “My people” is the community of
my destiny in this earthly life. The folk-soul is fumbling after a
newer, deeper basis for such a community of destiny. Not by the
blindness of natural law have I been thrown upon this place of earth.
I have sought this nation, not only because I wished to learn
something in it, not only because I wished to help it, but because my
soul itself is related to it,—my soul, and not only my body. To
disavow my nation and its destiny is to disavow myself. Certainly the
destiny of my people may be to suffer need; yet the task of this
people may be spiritual. I must seek not any political delusion, but
the inward meaning of my connection with my nation. Here my earthly
task awaits me; here must I fulfil it. Thought about one's
race, is full of materialism; it makes one blind and arrogant from
pride in one's inheritance, and arrogant because of one's
descent; it changes peoples into beasts of prey, which tear one
another. One can already hear the voices of these beasts of prey, for
example, in Spengler's new book. We have dire need of a new
basis for an alliance of the peoples, an alliance which at the same
time leaves us free as men.
For the thoughts of
humanity are now going beyond the individual nations. We disavow the
essential side of our Germanic nature when we try to kill this
thought in us. Isolde Kurz once described impressively in a poem how
Scipio, the Conqueror of Carthage, after the great success of his
life, knocks at heaven's gate. He expects that the greatness of
his deeds will infallibly find recognition. But the thoughts of the
powers which guide the destinies of mankind are higher. What he did
was necessary and great, but he lacks one thing “Thou knowest
not the feelings of an oppressed nation; be born again a Punic
slave!” What if the poetess had known that the investigations
of Rudolf Steiner have shown that the man who inflicts misery upon a
people will, in all probability, have to live his next life among
these very people? Let us imagine that a prophet had appeared among
the men of Versailles and told them this, and that he had succeeded
not only in convincing their minds fully of it, but also in making it
part of their inmost feelings. The anxiety they would then have had
for their own future, even if it had not immediately taken form as a
political action, may show us the significance which the idea of
reincarnation may have for the future of humanity. And that of which
we are speaking would only be the first egotistic reactions, but not
yet the delicate action of the spirit.
The greatest benefit
humanity could receive today would be a spiritual view, which
included the National — we do not say the Nationalistic and the
Super-national, nor do we say the International — and which
gave to both, their due rights. Unless this spiritual point of view
comes to life in humanity — it need be the knowledge of the few
only, and the surmise of the many — then humanity is going
towards newer and more dangerous catastrophes, in spite of, nay, just
because of national enthusiasms. The ancient thoughts of Christianity
and Humanism are united today with new knowledge. Every folk-soul has
its mission. But man on his earthly way passes through the peoples.
Just as the children have sought their parents, so man has sought the
nation which can help him and which he can help. By this, and not by
any naturalistic unity of substance with the nation, is our love of
our nation explained. It is only the unspiritual man who can fear
that the ennobling of the tree will rob it of its life-force. It is
not love of our nation to draw that love from any other source than
from the spirit. And every man can see that the racial theories are
only a helpless search for such a spiritual source.
New eyes must be
opened to see not only our own nation, but all nations. The Ancient
Christian Love of one's enemy is falling into ruin, and
Christian circles are foremost in the work of pulling it down.
Elementary feelings are furbished up as Christian. “If
Christianity demands of me a love of the French, then I give up my
Christianity here and now!” I have myself heard sayings like
this, which was uttered by a highly educated woman, from the lips of
princes of the Church. But Christian love of one's enemy must
not only be freed from all sentimentality, it must also be raised
above everything that is of the nature of a commandment, or is simply
a matter of the feelings. The “simple” announcement that
God created all men, and Christ died for all men, is no longer
sufficient. One sees this not only among humanity in general, but
also in Evangelical Church circles. Mankind's community of
destiny in its unity and in its individual parts, must be freshly
perceived. We live in the nation — we pass through the nations.
I fulfil the intention of my destiny only when I accomplish my task
for my nation; and only when I look beyond my nation to humanity, do
I grasp the aim of the earth. We cannot free ourselves from this
twofold attitude to life, and it is out of this attitude only that we
can work out salvation for our own nation, and yet not only for our
own nation.
The old view taken by
the Christianity of the West is being subjected to an overpoweringly
severe strain. Masses, more and more masses of people stream through
the gate of birth, into existence. How about them? The problem was
always there, but we did not see it; we could always withdraw
ourselves from it into our own private dwelling. Now, however, such
questions surround us like high mountains. Whither are all these
people tending? A sergeant in the army remarked to me, “In
heaven there will be no room for all these people who are constantly
being born upon the earth.” The idealist, trained in
philosophy, expresses himself differently: “That there is a
God. I can still believe; but that the single individual is so
valuable to this God that he continues after death, I can no longer
believe.” The pious Christian can only cast such questions
hopefully upon the unfathomability of God, which would not be
unfathomable, if all these questions did not find room for themselves
in it. In all cases of difficulty he brings up his “confidence
in faith.” At least the question, “What will become of
all the people who have not known Christ in this life?” was
raised in a circle of friends by one such Christian, only to cast it
upon God's unfathomableness. Do we not see that these ancient
opinions simply do not touch humanity and its problems any
longer?
And now the knowledge
of reincarnation comes and says: “You deceive yourselves when
you think that new people are for ever coming up out of nothing.
Humanity is a race of men, striving together out of the dark into the
light. It is a closed fellowship with a common destiny. It has
existed for thousands of years, and it will ,continue to exist for
thousands of years longer. A single, great people — such are
we, and we have been permitted to leave the kingdoms of divine
creation, and are now wandering together through the desert.”
He who can bring this thought to life in him, feels as if for the
first time a humanity existed for him. We must not accept as human
all that which by the “accident of birth” wears a human
face. But behind the human face there lives a human ego that is
laboriously seeking its way towards the heights of humanity. Wherever
a human heart beats, there lives a member of this great community of
those who are united by human destiny, to whom the earth is entrusted
and who are entrusted to the earth. Our worth as men is not ours
through this one birth, but we have borne it for thousands of years
in our ego — not in our body — far as we may stray from
the goal of humanity.
Yes, when we look
back into the past, Christian Morgenstern says: “Why do we
always speak of ‘the ancient Indians or Egyptians’, why
do we not speak of ‘the ancient Indians or
Egyptians’?” The destiny of the past is our destiny also;
it is within us and makes us understand. New lights play upon a
hundred questions, not only upon the question of pious people:
“What becomes of people who did not come to know Christ in this
life?” but also upon the doubt of the thinker: “What is
the meaning of the fact that in great catastrophes men perish in
thousands?” Here. Rudolf Steiner's investigations were
equally illuminating. By the shock of death especial powers are
awakened in man. By the common overthrow, fellowships of a common
destiny were formed, to which a common work for the future could be
entrusted. Providence and predestination are found extending far
forward in this plan. Even the hopeless work of standing all day by
machines, the sorrowful slavery to mechanism which exists in the
industry of the present age, has its significance. Men who are today
tragically worn out in the status of workmen, bear within them a
hidden seed, and the future of humanity will one day be decisively
carried on by the forces which are being secretly formed in such
lives.
After all that has
been said, it cannot be thought to be a rhetorical phrase, but rather
an important deduction drawn from our study of the life of our times,
if we conclude with these words: “It is a great moment when the
idea of reincarnation enters the spiritual life of the West anew. It
is no longer a mountainous weight of reincarnation, such as it was
when it oppressed India, but a light of reincarnation which
illuminates all the spheres of life.”
The doctrine of
reincarnation, as it appears now, has taken into itself the results,
of the evolution of Western Christian culture; of the culture of the
West, with the thoughts of evolution, in which reincarnation comes
before men, no longer as an endless returning, but as an unending
ascent; of Christianity with its message of mercy, in which
reincarnation appears to men no longer with the eyes of the judge of
men, but with the eyes of the teacher, yes more, with the eyes of the
redeemer. A healthy and holy ordering of the world — in which
is this cosmic goodness as it is revealed in Christ — leads
humanity carefully upwards. The doctrine of reincarnation has not
till now appeared in this form to humanity, it has not yet spoken to
humanity with this voice, it has never yet looked upon it with those
eyes.
Humanity's
inward need is sighing for new thoughts which can bear it up; but
often before, when men have begged for them, such thoughts have been
here and have not been recognised. The author of this book is
convinced as firmly as possible that only in Christ lies the hope for
humanity. But through the thought of reincarnation Christianity puts
on a new appearance, and through Christianity reincarnation assumes
its true appearance. It is of immense importance today that the
doctrine of reincarnation should appear in a Christian spirit before
men.
So, too, thought
Rudolf Steiner. And the author of this book regards it as a service
which he has to render to humanity in a serious hour of its destiny,
that he should help men to take this doctrine seriously, to think it
out, to live it out, to accept it finally.
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