The Rudolf Steiner Archive

1. The Goal and Nature of Spiritual Research

[ 1 ] As I have done for quite a number of years now, I would like to give a series of lectures here in Berlin this winter on topics in the humanities. The lectures will be linked by a common line of thought, but I would like to structure the individual lectures so that each one can be heard, at least in a certain sense, as a self-contained whole.

[ 2 ] Today's lecture is intended primarily as an introduction and an overview. It will address the purpose and nature of spiritual research as discussed here.

[ 3 ] When we speak of the goals of spiritual research, we are actually referring to something that is at the same time the goal of every truly human heart—one that feels and senses—and, one might say, the goal of humanity and of the human quest for knowledge ever since there has been a thinking, feeling humanity. And yet: every age must strive to attain this goal in different ways. This is also true in other areas of human endeavor. When one surveys the various epochs of human development, one sees that from age to age the nature of human aspirations changes; interests are directed toward ever-changing things, impulses arise from ever-changing corners of the human soul, and life is governed by ever-new perspectives. This is why that which is actually ancient must be sought by humanity in ever-new forms, even when this pursuit is directed toward the eternal, imperishable goal of humanity itself. One need only consider how different the way in which people view the external, spatial structure of the world today is from the way they viewed it even five or six centuries ago. One could apply the same observation to other fields and would find that the entire nature and form of human striving and thinking, as well as all the relationships between human thought and the world, are constantly changing. What is referred to here as anthroposophically oriented spiritual science seeks in particular to take this circumstance into account. It aims to pursue the deepest goal of the human quest for knowledge in a way that must correspond precisely to the character and distinctive nature of human striving in the present and the near future.

[ 4 ] What is meant here by “spiritual science” can very easily be misunderstood. It is, in fact, very easily misunderstood and is still quite frequently misinterpreted in the broadest circles today. People tend to think of something sectarian, imagining something that seeks to present itself as a new religious movement or the like. None of this is correct at all. What this spiritual science aims for is actually so closely aligned with human endeavor that it must unfold as a direct continuation of the scientific worldview itself—a worldview that penetrates so deeply into all human thought and imagination. To begin with, the spiritual science referred to here did not arise from a religious impulse at all, but rather from what must necessarily stand alongside natural science—with its great achievements and profound insights into the outer life of existence—in harmony with our present and future. It must be emphasized time and again: spiritual science does not disregard the achievements of natural science, but rather acknowledges them in the deepest sense; yet precisely what has made natural science great and significant—what has brought it its great successes—has at the same time prevented it from finding ways and means to penetrate into the spiritual life of humanity itself. One need only point to the true goal of human spiritual striving—to that which stands at the center of this striving—and one will, upon surveying the current state of scientific life, immediately recognize that what has just been said is true.

[ 5 ] Toward the end of his life, the eminent philosopher Eduard von Hartmann wrote a history of the philosophy of the soul. In this history of the philosophy of the soul—which is quite remarkable—he stated that, in fact, since the mid-nineteenth century, the scientific and academic study of the soul has essentially been unable to address the two main questions of human knowledge of the soul. These two main questions are none other than the question of the eternal in the human soul—which is essentially called the question of immortality—and the other, the question of the nature of human freedom; and, fundamentally, everything that strives for knowledge in this field culminates in attaining clear, certain, and true knowledge regarding these two questions. And it is precisely regarding these two questions that one will not find the means and ways in what is today known as scientific psychology.

[ 6 ] Perhaps one of the most significant figures to have engaged in the study of the soul in modern times—Franz Brentano, who passed away last year in Zurich and who devoted his profound thirst for knowledge to questions of the inner life— said as early as the 1870s, while reflecting on what might constitute “the science of the soul” from the perspective of the contemporary scientific spirit: This science of the soul deals with how one idea connects to another, how attention relates to the human soul, what role memory plays, how love and hate operate, and how emotions ebb and flow; yet—as Franz Brentano argued—if the precise investigation of all these things were to result in the answer to the great question concerning the immortality of the better part of human nature—that great question which Plato and Aristotle had already pursued—being compromised and having to yield to the findings of a particular line of research, then that particular line of research, despite its precision and accuracy, would be utterly futile. And one must say: Precisely that kind of thinking which, as it must be in the field of the natural sciences, is capable of penetrating the external conditions of nature, is unsuited to penetrating the life of the human soul, and it is unsuited to this for the following reason:

[ 7 ] The modern natural scientist must regard it as an ideal to observe the phenomena of nature in such a way that nothing from the human soul itself—from what is called the subjective nature of the human soul—interferes with this observation. Everything that does not present itself to the human mind from the laws of nature themselves, but rather what the human mind adds of its own accord, must be excluded. If the ideal of natural science must be to exclude the subjective aspects of the soul, is it any wonder that a form of thought, a mode of conception, develops which—precisely because of what makes it great—is unsuited to penetrating the life of the soul?

[ 8 ] This was not always the case. Anyone who traces the course of human intellectual development back through past centuries and millennia will find that natural science, in the sense that it is so prominent today, did not always exist, but that, in its present form, it is actually only three to four hundred years old.

[ 9 ] In the past, people also contemplated nature. But just consider what people believed they knew about nature: In all insights—or supposed insights—into nature, there was always something of the soul present. People spoke of nature and its phenomena in such a way that they always saw something akin to the very essence of the human soul itself. Quite rightly, this way of viewing nature has sunk into obscurity, and another approach has emerged that excludes everything soulful and spiritual of this kind. Anyone who takes the view that we have come so wonderfully far today—that in most fields we finally know what has been reliably established, that we possess such knowledge that we can look down haughtily upon the childish achievements of earlier centuries and millennia—will certainly find it easier to deal with these questions than someone who looks a little more deeply into the fabric of human existence. With regard to the great achievements of a Helmholtz or a Julius Robert Mayer, one might be of the opinion that these are finally the truths toward which humanity has striven in vain for centuries. But a closer examination of history shows that this is not the case; that all our striving ultimately leads us back to Lessing’s great ideas; that the development of humanity through the centuries and millennia is an “education of humanity”; that humanity progresses in such a way that it discovers what it does precisely in order to advance further and further, thereby passing through the various forms of development. This leads one to conclude that a particular form of development should not be conceived of as a definitive truth; for just as Copernicus thought differently from the earlier astronomers before him, so too will future generations think differently from Copernicus. But one arrives at the following line of thought: This more recent era, particularly since the thirteenth century, has developed a way of thinking about nature that constitutes a stage in human evolution—a stage that can be characterized, in particular, by the following statement: Humanity has learned to extract everything spiritual from nature, to view nature in such a way that it reveals its chemical and physical laws, in order to seek out within itself, with all the more powerful force, those forces that lead into the life of the soul and bring one to the spirit. Thus, natural science itself serves as an indication that, while the path to the spirit in modern times must indeed be followed according to the model and requirements of natural science—with the rigor that prevails in natural science—this path to the spirit is built upon the inner, inherent powers of the human soul itself. This even leads us to the conclusion that spiritual science, as it is understood here, represents just as “scientific,” offers scientific certainty, and strives for a form just like natural science, but that—because it seeks to stand on an equal footing with natural science—it must take different paths, and it must realize that one cannot penetrate the life of the human soul with those thoughts, ideas, and concepts that are suitable for the knowledge of nature.

[ 10 ] We can therefore state right away—and I will get to the point without further ado—that this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science appeals to powers of cognition other than those recognized and employed in mainstream science today. In essence, everything that takes the form of misunderstandings or even dishonesty attached to the presentation of this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science is directed against this pursuit of such special powers of cognition. It must be stated: Since this anthroposophically oriented spiritual science seeks to find the eternal aspect of the human soul—that which lies beyond birth and death—it must penetrate into the depths of the human soul itself, which, though constantly present in every human soul and always to be found, cannot be sought using current scientific methods and, in fact, are not sought at all. The point is that human beings carry the eternal core of their being within themselves, but that this eternal core of being must first be sought within them, and that the powers through which it can be found must first be drawn up from within the soul. One may well use the comparison I employed in my book The Riddle of Man: What actually leads a person to self-knowledge “sleeps” in the soul during ordinary life; it must first be awakened; the “contemplative consciousness” must first emerge from ordinary consciousness. For spiritual insight to arise, something is necessary in the constitution of the human soul that can be described as an “awakening” of the soul from the consciousness that guides us through everyday life and through conventional science. Something must therefore be drawn up from the depths of the soul.

[ 11 ] Now, this series of lectures will show how that which lies deep within the soul as its eternal core can be brought to the surface. Today I wish only to suggest that this process of bringing it to the surface does not involve any external measures, but rather an intimate inner spiritual path aimed above all at making the ordinary spiritual powers of the human being more powerful, more intense, and stronger than they are in ordinary life and in ordinary science. Exercises to be described later—and which are detailed in my book How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds? as well as in other writings—enable the human soul to draw such stronger powers from within itself and to develop more intense thinking, deeper feeling, and a will filled with light; these are then capable of looking toward the spiritual world — in which the human being is rooted, just as the physical human being is rooted in the sensory world — just as physical eyes look upon colors and forms, and physical ears listen to sounds. Through such exercises—to be described in later lectures—the human being thus comes to strengthen and consolidate what he otherwise employs as soul forces, so that he thereby arrives at unfolding within his soul a state that, if merely spoken of today, would naturally elicit a kind of derisive smile in the widest circles: They come to see—to see with spiritual organs just as one otherwise sees and hears in external life with physical organs. They come to live in a human existence that is just as supersensible as one lives in the physical sensory world in ordinary life. In other words, the human being comes to live with his entire soul being in a — even if the expression is somewhat inapt — “supersensory physicality.” The human being always carries this supersensory physicality within himself. To gain insight into the very essence of the human being, it must first emerge from within. One must perceive differently when observing nature than when seeking to perceive the spirit; one must use different faculties to look into the realm of the spirit than into the realm of nature. Although I intend to describe the intimate soul processes that lead to spiritual vision at a later time, I may nevertheless already mention a few aspects that pertain to this.

[ 12 ] Something peculiar becomes particularly evident when one asks the question: What is it, actually, that causes human beings, in their ordinary consciousness, to know nothing of their eternal soul core? Well, the spiritual research referred to here shows that this eternal core, when brought into the field of spiritual consciousness, slips away from ordinary observation and ordinary thinking with extraordinary ease. The eternal core of the human being behaves much as delicate feelings do in the human soul: They can live within the human soul, and they live most intensely when one does not attempt to examine them with the ordinary intellect. If one tries to shine the light of the ordinary intellect upon them, they flee. It is much the same with the eternal core of the human being. Our external research into nature relies on robust, trivial, easily understandable concepts; it structures its observations so that such concepts prevail within them. If one attempts to observe the life of the soul and its eternal core using such concepts—which are suitable precisely for understanding nature—it flees. It flees especially from those who today believe they stand firmly on the ground of contemporary natural science with all their concepts and ideas.

[ 13 ] And there is something else as well. Anyone who approaches the spiritual world with the kind of soul powers described in the book How to Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds? , may notice that the soul possesses a peculiar shyness—one might say a kind of inner fear—which, strictly speaking, very few people today are aware of because it lies deep in the subconscious: a shyness and fear of delving into the depths of the soul, where the eternal aspect of the soul dwells. On the other hand, human beings strive with every fiber of their being to gain some insight into the life of the soul; yet they find the paths leading there so difficult that they are overcome by something like this inner shyness and fear. Precisely when a person begins to engage in such exercises in order, I might say, to stand face to face with his Eternal Self, not only does this Eternal Self flee in the manner described, but the fear and aversion actually grow even greater, intensifying.

[ 14 ] There is yet another factor to consider. If, as researchers of the spiritual sciences, we have grasped some of these things and then attempt to approach what we have already gained with a way of thinking that is untrained in the spiritual sciences but well-trained in the natural sciences, what we have gained becomes confused. It is indeed as if what is so magnificently applicable to external nature were to drive out what a person can draw forth from within themselves regarding their own being. Furthermore, human beings are very easily inclined to project onto the findings of soul research—based on their wishes, desires, and prejudices—what they would like to find there; they color, through their imagination, what should emerge objectively—just as objectively as results are supposed to be in the field of natural science. All of this creates obstacle after obstacle. And anyone who wants to understand how one actually goes about approaching the spirit does not really need to perform specific exercises to bring forth certain abilities hidden within the soul; for if one allows them freedom, if one lets them act as they will, they will emerge on their own—they simply do not emerge for the reasons mentioned above.

[ 15 ] A large part of the effort required in these exercises stems from the need to overcome the obstacles just listed. Anyone who takes only a superficial look at the spiritual research referred to here will, of course, easily think: well, our exact sciences demand stricter thinking and a more refined development of ideas. Anyone who delves deeper into spiritual research, on the other hand, will find that it demands far more “thought”—one might even say—than official science does today. On the other hand, however, it is true that one can strengthen weak thinking—a form of thinking that, particularly in its present form, has been shaped by the fact that contemporary thought is carried from experiment to experiment and has thus become accustomed to a certain passivity. This thinking must become stronger, more active, and more vigorous; and only by strengthening one’s thinking is one able to structure observation in such a way that the results do not elude the eternal essence of the human being, that they are not destroyed, and that the hesitation and fear of which I have spoken are overcome.

[ 16 ] Added to all this are other aspects of spiritual research that are quite unfamiliar to people today and that they must regard as paradoxical or strange. I must repeat what I have already emphasized on other occasions: True spiritual research must work entirely with inner means; it must draw the power of supersensible perception from healthy human nature; it must strive to organize the supersensible human body in such a way that it can develop its supersensible organs independently of the physical human body. These methods are the opposite of those that people encounter at every turn today—methods that are, understandably, valued and even overvalued by some—and which are also supposed to lead, in a certain way, into the supersensible, into the realm of the eternal in human nature. Today, people are familiar with the vast realm of subconscious or unconscious soul life. We know how to induce human nature, through all manner of techniques, to perform actions quite different from what are considered “normal”; we know what hypnosis and somnambulism can achieve. None of these things can be the subject of true spiritual research. None of these things make a person into what spiritual research can make him: They do not make a person more independent of their physical body, but rather more dependent on it. While spiritual research is often accused of leading people toward pathological tendencies, this is not true. For the paths and methods of spiritual research are precisely the opposite of those pursued by other endeavors that seek to approach the life of the soul in different ways; these other endeavors make a person more dependent on his ordinary consciousness. It is precisely through the methods of spiritual research that a person is to become more independent than he is in ordinary consciousness. And on this path of spiritual research, a person acquires powers that can penetrate the spiritual realm, but which must indeed seem paradoxical to anyone who does not wish to gain a closer understanding of them.

[ 17 ] What a person draws from within their soul looks quite different from ordinary soul powers. One need only point out how, as a soul power, a person relies on memory—the power of recollection—every day in order to function effectively in ordinary life. One need only consider—and we will have much to say about this in the coming lectures—what a human being would be like if he had to live his life in such a way that the individual events of his life were not connected through memory. When the spiritual researcher, through spiritual vision, brings a spiritual, a supersensible event before the soul, an event that can truly shed light on the eternal core of human nature, then it is precisely a distinctive feature of this mastery of the supersensible that one cannot recall such things in the ordinary sense, that such results of spiritual research, which are inwardly mastered, are not subject to ordinary memory. One must—you can read about this in the books already mentioned, and it will also be discussed here—cultivate certain inner exercises if one wishes to attain spiritual vision. One can remember these exercises. If, through these exercises, one has succeeded in beholding a fact in the spiritual worlds, then later, when one wishes to return to this matter, that fact does not reappear; one can only recall the soul activities that one has performed. One must bring these about again; only then can one lead the soul to behold the same thing anew. Just as one can grasp the objects that surround us in space as concepts and ideas—at which point they are no longer the objects as they were originally perceived—so too can one recall the concepts and ideas. If one truly wishes to draw near to the life of the soul, one must be willing to make such distinctions. One must accustom oneself to the fact of repeating the soul’s activities. Without such an endeavor, the great question of human existence cannot truly be approached.

[ 18 ] In everyday life, we know that when we practice something repeatedly, it becomes more familiar to us. This is the power of habit. What would everyday life be if we couldn’t improve our ability to do something we’re supposed to be able to do simply through repetition! After all, all creation and action in life ultimately rest on the fact that we habitually perfect ourselves.

[ 19 ] It is different with spiritual experiences. This is precisely what must seem so paradoxical to people. It often happens that someone undertakes exercises such as those to be discussed later and, because the human soul always possesses reserves of supersensory power, makes good progress relatively quickly. I know many people who were able to approach the supersensible simply by doing the initial exercises for a relatively short time. But then they are surprised. They may have had quite significant supersensible experiences and seen things of real importance. After some time, however, these experiences do not return; they cannot bring them about again. For spiritual experience works in exactly the opposite way to ordinary practice in the external world. In the external world, one brings a skill to greater perfection by practicing it frequently. In spiritual vision, however, what we have already achieved slips away through repetition; it becomes smaller and smaller, and eventually disappears. Human effort must therefore become ever greater and greater. Herein lies another distinctive feature of spiritual exercises: one finds the means to make ever greater and greater efforts in order to overcome the ever-increasing elusiveness of the spiritual world. These things are, of course, all to be understood as surmountable; yet they are what is characteristic of the spiritual world.

[ 20 ] And a third point. I am sharing these details today because I do not want to speak in abstract terms, but rather discuss things as concretely as possible, even today. When we want to observe something in the external world, we are accustomed to focusing our attention on it for as long as possible. To observe the spiritual realm, one needs what can be described as presence of mind. For the most important and essential aspects of experience approach the soul from the spiritual world so rapidly—and flit by so quickly—that one cannot observe them. That is why the mysteries of the spiritual world elude human beings: because they lack sufficient presence of mind. One of the best exercises for finding one’s way in the spiritual world is to get into the habit, even in everyday life, of developing presence of mind—to get used to not hesitating for long in a situation, not needing a quarter of an hour to decide to have this or that thought. The more presence of mind one has—especially in situations that require quick thinking—the more one trains oneself to grasp what the spiritual world has to offer. Therefore, people who are quick to make decisions in certain situations of external life—who do not turn things over in their minds two or three times, but who can take action and do it right, even when the opportunity presents itself only briefly—these people will be best suited to make spiritual observations. In later lectures, other aspects will be discussed regarding how a person must develop the powers to look into that world where their eternal core of being resides.

[ 21 ] Now, I do not mean that every person who wishes to claim spiritual science for themselves should immediately become a spiritual researcher through such exercises. But this is what I mean: Just as the chemist must develop chemical methods and the physicist must develop physical methods in order to achieve results in chemistry and physics, so too must the corresponding spiritual scientific methods be developed if a person truly wishes to approach the spiritual world scientifically. But once the results have been researched and presented, then, through ordinary common sense—provided one does not allow oneself to be misled—one can comprehend these results, although it is already possible today for anyone who so desires to advance, through the methods referred to here, to the point where they can convince themselves through direct perception of the truth of what spiritual research reveals about the spiritual world.

[ 22 ] What one can particularly see for oneself when one steps beyond the boundaries of the sensory world in the manner described is something I have already touched upon: that the concepts and ideas which are particularly suited to viewing external nature in the sense of the great achievements of natural science are not equally suited to approaching the spiritual world. For those familiar with spiritual research, this becomes particularly evident when, through such research, one has become accustomed to experiencing the profound mysteries of life with the deepest intensity—mysteries that one very often, I won’t say passes by, but does not yet approach in a way that allows them to reveal everything they could possibly reveal. Spiritual research is certainly built upon the same foundations of truth in the human soul as natural science is; yet spiritual research does appeal to the deeper impulses of emotional life as well, even if emotional life and the life of feeling cannot solve the world’s mysteries. And when it is deepened and strengthened by the ideas of spiritual science, it can approach precisely those mysteries that one would otherwise pay less attention to.

[ 23 ] Let us consider such a riddle—a riddle that confronts human beings time and again, a riddle that reveals itself when a person stands before a lifeless human body, a corpse. The comparison between a human corpse with the living human being is not made all too often; for otherwise one would recognize that in it one of life’s deepest comparisons confronts us. For the human corpse—which, when we have it before us, actually presents us with the immediate problem of death and thus also of immortality—we look at it, and we examine it as anatomists and physiologists in order to solve many of the mysteries of humanity, but we give far too little thought to what it means: This lifeless corpse is there; what it is now is no longer the “human being”; what it is now derives its meaning solely from the fact that something else—which was once within it—is no longer there. The lifeless corpse, in all its forms and contexts, actually no longer has an intrinsic meaning: its meaning is given to it by something that is no longer within it. Spiritual science shows us, in fact, that there is an analogue to this lifeless corpse, which derives its meaning solely from our knowledge that life was within it—a life that gives it its meaning. Spiritual science sees an analogue to this lifeless corpse in ordinary imagination and thinking. Just as this lifeless corpse no longer bears or reveals life within itself, and just as it has no meaning or significance without this life—because it derives its significance solely from this life—so too does our ordinary thinking, which is so well suited to the observation of external nature, lack the ability to penetrate the supersensible mysteries. For ordinary thinking and imagination are as paralyzed, as dead, in the face of the supersensible mysteries as a corpse is in the face of life. And in this, materialism is right: this way of thinking, which has achieved its triumphs precisely in modern natural science, stems from the fact that during our lives we carry within us this corpse of thinking—the thinking that is the instrument of the ordinary intellect. And materialistically oriented natural science is entirely correct in saying: The moment ordinary life ceases, consciousness also ceases. For another consciousness then takes its place—a consciousness that can only be conceived through spiritual research. Just as the human body has meaning only through life, so something else must enter human thinking—the very thing that is otherwise contained in the corpse, that which the corpse has shed, and in which ordinary thinking does not reside. Ordinary thinking resides only in what we shed as a corpse. In ordinary life, we are confined only to what we have in our ordinary thinking. But we must become independent of what can become a corpse. As spiritual science strives to plunge this human thinking—which is itself, in fact, a corpse—down into that which animates the corpse, this thinking thereby gains strength and connects itself with a world where the corpse can never be, that is, it connects itself with the supersensible world. Just as the physical body does not derive its true nature, its inner meaning, from what it still is, so too does this thinking not have its essence within itself. And just as life must enter the human body so that it becomes what transforms it from a mere body into an animated being, so too can the human being, through thinking, connect with that from which the body is eventually separated. Spiritual scientific insight is a real process, not a formal one; spiritual science is not a theoretical process. For spiritual science allows human thinking and imagination to plunge into that which remains hidden from ordinary consciousness precisely because, in ordinary life, human beings cannot immerse themselves in these things. Drawing this parallel between the lifeless corpse and what our ordinary thinking is represents an immense deepening of human cognitive perception. In the following lectures, we shall see how, precisely through the proper exploration of this mystery of life and death, the enigmas of immortality come before the soul and how they manifest themselves; but they can already be sensed from what has been discussed here today: that the goal of spiritual research is to connect the human soul with its eternal aspect—that part which does not merely live between birth (or conception) and death, but which, through birth, enters through one gate of life and, through death, exits through the other, in order to enter a spiritual realm through death.

[ 24 ] But this is the essence of spiritual research: it seeks to explore those depths of the soul in which human beings live not only their transient lives through the senses and their physical bodies, but also their immortal lives. Thus, the question of immortality can be a scientific question in the true sense, and this will be the path of human spiritual striving into the future. And even the present will require this striving—that a distinct spiritual science stand alongside the natural sciences; and it is precisely then that the natural sciences will have great and significant educational value for humanity, when one no longer seeks within their domain what cannot be found there: the human soul and its activities. But if, on the other hand, one cultivates the soul using spiritual methods in accordance with the ideal of scientific truth and truthfulness—in order to arrive at a spiritual science just as one arrives at natural science through scientific methods—then immortality will become an immediate certainty for the soul.

[ 25 ] One could say: what spiritual research aims for is, in fact, what the broadest circles are striving for today. One need not believe that the spiritual researcher approaches his contemporaries with some stubborn idea and seeks to impose upon them something that inspires only him. No, the spiritual researcher actually wants nothing other than what, deep down, the souls of people today also desire in the broadest circles. And much of what exists today in the form of unfulfilled feelings and unquenched longings—which can even reach the point of morbidity and nervousness—stems in many cases from the fact that the souls of people today are searching for the mystery of the spiritual world, yet do not actually realize in the right way that they are searching. The finest and most scientific minds are among them. Although this is not the case now, one can certainly say that before these sad times began, people did indeed seek healing in sanatoriums and through similar means for something that lay within their souls—and which, as a consequence, also manifested in their physical lives. People “made pilgrimages” to the sanatoriums, and these movements were, after all, much stronger than the pilgrimages to traditional sites of pilgrimage in other times. But if it were truly understood today what spiritual science can be for the human soul, then people would undertake pilgrimages other than those to spas and health resorts—namely, pilgrimages that can lead the soul into the spiritual world, from which strength and health can flow to human beings.

[ 26 ] One may already see from these few hints that the spiritual science referred to here is not intended to be something theoretical, but rather something that deepens and strengthens the soul—something that, in other words, can foster an understanding of real, authentic life. Spiritual science does not wish to be a confused, unclear, gloomy mysticism; it wishes to be something that can intervene in life, something that can make a difference in the lives of “practical” people as we understand the term today. In an age of railroads, telegraphs, telephones, airplanes, and so on, it is impossible to think about spiritual matters in the same way that people in the Middle Ages likely thought about the same subjects. And it is just as impossible today to properly shape human social life if one cannot develop ideas that are full of vitality. What this means can be seen in many phenomena of the present. I would just like to mention a book that has recently been published, a book that is significant in a certain respect; although it does not deal with the questions of spiritual science as they have been discussed today, it nevertheless reveals throughout a longing for the kind of spiritual science meant here. I would like to mention a book that deals with matters of the external economy—with those things that are necessary for humanity if it is to find a way out of the immensely catastrophic conditions of the present. Most of you will be familiar with Walther Rathenau’s book Von kommenden Dingen (Of Things to Come). It deals with the subjects of the external economy, human necessities, and the external arrangements that must be made for the future organization of life. But a common thread runs through the entire book: the longing for the soul, the longing for perspectives and concepts that will enable us to regulate the conditions for the life of the soul out of external life. One need only let a few sentences from this book sink into one’s soul to understand what I mean here. Walther Rathenau also speaks of those who, in today’s age of mechanization, wish to reduce the spirit to nothing more than a product of external physicality and external economic conditions. For example, he says in his book:

[ 27 ] “Enough of these arguments; they assume what they are supposed to prove—that the body comes first, the spirit second, and that matter shapes the spirit. If we believe that we are creatures of the flesh, then let whoever wishes to do so sweeten and flatter life; then the struggle for God and our soul is in vain, and those who are here for the sake of utility and benefit have the final say. But if we believe that the spirit shapes its own body, that the will carries the world upward, that the spark of divinity lives within us—then man is his own creation, then his destiny is his own creation, then his world is his own creation.”

[ 28 ] A man speaks from this book—a man who has taken part in what had to be accomplished during this war; a man speaks after having observed what has unfolded over the course of the last few years, and he speaks about the causes of the catastrophic external effects. And what is remarkable is that a man of practical experience, a man firmly grounded in life, arrives at the following words:

[ 29 ] “I last pointed out the approaching turning point in the year before the outbreak of the war: The hardship must come not out of political necessity, but out of a transcendent law ...”

[ 30 ] And again, after these catastrophic events had lasted two years, and Walther Rathenau was writing this book and looking back on what had happened so far and what was yet to come, he—who believes just as much in “an honorable, God-sent rescue” as anyone else might believe in this or that—as can be read in this book—uttered the following sentence with regard to what must be done for the future of humanity:

[ 31 ] “And once again, it is not political or military reasons that are decisive, but transcendent ones!”

[ 32 ] “Transcendent reasons”—that is, reasons that flow down from the spiritual world! One could multiply this example, taken from this book, by hundreds and thousands today. A person speaks out of a vivid need for spiritual and soul life, out of the desire to make the needs of the spiritual and soul core of the human being the guiding principle of social order. But when one reads this book and compares it with Walther Rathenau’s earlier works, Zur Kritik der Zeit and Die Mechanik des Geistes, one has the feeling throughout: The concepts are weak, do not penetrate into life, and are not what could actually master this reality, because they themselves do not stem from full reality. In abstract terms, the book speaks of the soul’s longing and of the transcendence of the reasons for our actions; but nowhere is there any real engagement with the spiritual world. What would one think today of a person who believed himself to be well-versed in contemporary scientific education and were to say, for example: “I am not interested in sulfur, nor in silicon, nor in calcium; all of that is just one thing, it is merely matter”? One would say of him: he does not want to engage with the particular. If we do not wish to be abstract monists, we speak not of “one substance,” but of the approximately seventy substances—the elements—if we wish to understand the true structure of nature. Likewise, we do not speak of spirit in general, but of the concrete spiritual world, which is just as much a world of spiritual beings that intervene in our inner life as there are individual substances in our outer life. But this is something that the present day still fears when, in spiritual science, one speaks of penetrating into concrete spiritual life—a life that seizes spiritual reality in such a way that, through grasping and comprehending this reality, strong, powerful concepts can be found, as well as vigorous impulses that have the power to intervene even in external social life. And these lectures are intended to serve this spiritual science and this grasping of spiritual life.

[ 33 ] Even today, when speaking of research in the spiritual sciences, it is often necessary to draw upon certain ideas and concepts that some might say are difficult and require effort to grasp. I envision—if I may make this remark—a form of spiritual research that might exist in the future, a form that is simple and accessible to the general public, so that it can be embraced by every simple mind. That is indeed how it must be. Only a few people need physics; only a few people need astronomy and so on. But what spiritual research is, every human being needs. Today, spiritual science still stands apart from other fields of research. In order to be tolerated, it must still adopt a stance that shows it has grown to withstand the attacks directed against it by the rest of the scientific community. If it were to appear today “out of the blue” in the simple form it is capable of taking, it would be laughed at and mocked. Today it must present itself using more complex concepts so that it is equipped to face what official science can oppose it with—albeit in a lighthearted manner, but nonetheless. One must come to terms with this.

[ 34 ] Above all, one must come to understand that this spiritual research must introduce into our cultural life something that is particularly necessary for its innermost healing. If one examines this spiritual science more closely, one will see that its findings have a character about which one can say: It strives for a genuine encounter with the spiritual world, but without any sentimentality, without any false mysticism or pietism, without anything that weakens the human being. No, the human being is to become strong precisely by knowing his or her relationship to the spiritual world. Therefore, one must not think that this spiritual science in any way seeks to assert itself in a sectarian manner, or that it seeks to present itself as if it were striving to establish a new religion. It seeks none of that. What it develops from, as its root, is the modern scientific way of thinking. It must be emphasized that it must develop different concepts and cognitive abilities than those of modern scientific research. Therefore, one should seek its origin in what modern scientific thinking is. Whether this spiritual science can then become the best support precisely for people’s religious life—and whether religious life, which has been so often—alas!—shaken in so many areas and in so many branches, can once again gain renewal and firm support—that is another question. This is a question that Dr. Rittelmeyer recently addressed in depth and exhaustively in an essay published in the journal Die christliche Welt. From this essay, one can see what, in the judgment of a discerning mind, this spiritual science can be precisely for the deepening of religious life. Perhaps it will do so precisely because it did not set out to establish a new form alongside existing religious life, but rather because it set out to answer the question: How does one penetrate the spiritual realm with the same scientific seriousness with which one penetrates nature through the natural sciences?

[ 35 ] I wanted to make it clear that spiritual science is truly not something that has arisen arbitrarily in the present, but rather the synthesis of what the greatest minds of humanity have always sought—a synthesis of what, for example, moved Goethe’s soul at the time when he was confronted with the question raised by Haller’s idea: “No created spirit penetrates into the innermost being of nature.” Haller, a great natural scientist in Goethe’s time, was a remarkable mind. Yet he stood on the side of those—who have since become ever more numerous—who believe that human cognitive capacity has “limits.” Certainly, the cognitive faculty we apply to ordinary life has limits. But the human cognitive faculty can be expanded to such an extent that we can, to a certain degree, penetrate the mystery of the eternal in the soul—that we can connect with the mystery of the eternal. Spiritual science will be able to demonstrate this through its research. And it will be able to affirm its method of research with the words of Goethe, with which I would like to conclude today’s lecture. Goethe recalled the words of Haller, who, as I mentioned, was one of the most significant natural scientists of his time, and who said:

“No creative spirit
Penetrates the innermost depths of nature
Blessed is he to whom she
Reveals only her outer shell!”

[ 36 ] And Goethe replied:

“I’ve heard this repeated for sixty years,
and I curse it, but secretly;
Tell me a thousand thousand times,
She gives everything abundantly and gladly;
Nature has neither core
nor shell,
She is everything all at once;
Just examine yourself above all else,
Whether you are core or shell!”