The Rudolf Steiner Archive

12. The Fairy Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily

[ 1 ] It is repeatedly emphasized that theosophy is not something new, nor is it something that has only recently come to humanity in our time. It is particularly interesting, however, that even figures familiar to us present themselves in such a way that we may count them among the spirits whom we can describe as “theosophists.” Alongside Herder, Jean Paul, Novalis, and Lessing, Goethe stands out as one of the most outstanding theosophists. Some, however, may object to this, because one does not sense much of theosophy in the works of Goethe that are familiar to us. In Goethe’s time, it was not yet possible to spread the esoteric truths to the whole world. Only within a select circle, such as the Rosicrucians, were the “higher truths” disseminated. No one who was unprepared was admitted into this society. But those who belonged to it spoke of these matters in all sorts of allusions. Goethe, for instance, did so in various places throughout his writings. Only those equipped with theosophical wisdom can truly understand Goethe. For example, “Faust” cannot be understood without it.

[ 2 ] The “Fairy Tale” is Goethe’s apocalypse, his revelation, whose symbolic representation contains the deepest mysteries. One can only understand that Goethe reveals his theosophical worldview in the “Fairy Tale” if one knows what prompted him to do so. Schiller had invited Goethe to contribute to Die Horen. Schiller himself had contributed the essay “On the Aesthetic Education of Man” to this journal. It poses the question: How does a person living in the everyday world attain the highest ideals, a mediation between the supersensible and the sensible? Schiller saw beauty as the descent of the highest wisdom into the sensory realm. In a wonderfully vivid way, he knew how to express what seemed to him to be a bridge leading from the sensory to the supersensory. Goethe now says that he cannot express himself in philosophical terms regarding the highest questions of existence, but that he wishes to do so through a grand image. At that time, he contributed the “Fairy Tale” to Die Horen, in which he attempted to resolve these questions in his own way.

[ 3 ] Goethe also expressed himself elsewhere in a distinctly theosophical sense. He had already incorporated his views into Faust in his early youth. Between his time as a student in Leipzig and his stay in Strasbourg, Goethe received an initiation from a figure who was deeply initiated into the mysteries of the Rosicrucians. From that point on, he spoke in a mystical, theosophical language. In the first part of Faust, there is a curious phrase enclosed in quotation marks; it reads: “the sage speaks.” Even then, Goethe was already drawn to the theosophical idea that there are beings among us today who are already more advanced than the rest of humanity—that they are the guides of humankind from supersensible spheres, even though they are also embodied in physical form. They have attained a knowledge that goes far beyond what can be comprehended through the senses. The passage in question reads:

Only now do I understand what the sage says:
“The spirit world is not closed off,
Your mind is closed, your heart is dead!
Come, disciple, bathe undaunted
Your earthly breast in the morning glow!”

[ 4 ] When one becomes acquainted with Jacob Böhme, one discovers one of the sources from which Goethe drew his theosophical wisdom. [J. Böhme’s “Aurora” is the dawn, the astral world.] There are certain aspects of Goethe’s work that we can only understand if we interpret them in this light. In the poem “Das Göttliche” (“The Divine”), Goethe speaks of the law we call karma, and also of those sublime beings:

According to eternal, immutable
Great Laws
We must all
Complete the cycles
Of our existence

Hail to the unknown,
higher beings,
whom we sense!

[ 5 ] Anyone who wants real proof of Goethe’s theosophical way of thinking should read the poem in God and the World titled “In Memory of Howard.” The first line reads:

When the deity Camarupa is lofty and majestic

[ 6 ] — Kama Rupa is the principle of the human being known to us in Theosophical teaching: the astral body. When Goethe spoke intimately to those with whom he was united in the lodge, he spoke of ideal, divine beings who shine before humanity as role models. For his inner circle, for example, this was certainly what he expressed in the poem “Symbolum”:

Calling you from over there
The voices of the spirits,
The voices of the masters
Don't neglect to practice
The powers of good.

[ 7 ] He speaks openly about the Masters when addressing his fellow lodge members in private.

[ 8 ] But it is the fairy tale of the green snake and the beautiful lily that gives us the deepest insight into his view. In it, we find the three realms in which human beings live: the physical world, the soul or astral world, and the spiritual world. The symbol for the astral or soul world is water. For Goethe, water always signifies the soul. This is evident in his poem on the soul and destiny:

Soul of man,
How much you resemble water!
Fate of man,
How much you resemble the wind!

[ 9 ] He also knew the mental realm that human beings experience between two states of incarnation—between death and birth—Devachan, the realm of the gods. Human beings strive ceaselessly for this realm. They struggle here on Earth to reach it.

[ 10 ] The alchemists viewed chemical processes as symbols of the quest for this mental realm. They call this realm: the realm of the lily. The human being is called the lion who fights to claim this realm, and the lily is the lion’s bride. Goethe also alluded to this in Faust:

My father was a dark
man of honor who, regarding nature and its sacred circles
with integrity, yet in his own way,
pondered with whimsical diligence;
Who, in the company of adepts
Locked himself away in the black kitchen
And, following endless recipes
Conjured up the contrary.
Then there arose a red lion, a bold suitor,
Married in the balmy bath of the lily.

[ 11 ] Here Goethe speaks of the union of man with the spirit (“the lukewarm bath is the bath of the soul.” The soul is the water; the red lion is man). In the “Fairy Tale,” Goethe also depicted the three realms: the sensual realm as one bank; the realm of the soul as the river; Devachan—the spiritual realm—as the other shore, where the Garden of the Beautiful Lily is located, which symbolically represents Devachan in alchemical tradition. Man’s entire relationship to the three realms is rendered in a symbolically beautiful depiction. We have come from the realm of the spirit and strive to return there. Goethe has a ferryman bring the will-o’-the-wisps across from the realm of the spirit to the realm of the senses. The ferryman can bring anyone across, but he cannot take them back. We have come across without our own will, but we cannot return in the same way. We must earn our way back to the spiritual realm.

[ 12 ] The will-o'-the-wisps feed on gold. They absorb this gold, and it permeates their bodies. But they immediately cast it back in all directions. They want to throw the gold to the ferryman as a reward. But he says the river cannot tolerate the gold; it would foam up in fury. Gold always symbolizes wisdom. The will-o’-the-wisps are people who seek wisdom but do not unite with its essence; instead, they cast it aside undigested. The river is the life of the soul, the sum of human instincts, drives, and passions. If the gold of wisdom is now thoughtlessly cast into the river of passions, the soul becomes confused and agitated.

[ 13 ] Goethe has always pointed out that human beings must first undergo catharsis—purification—in order to become mature enough to receive wisdom. For if wisdom is introduced into unpurified passion, the passion becomes fanatical, and people remain trapped in their lower self. The ascent from Kama to Manas is dangerous if it is not accompanied by a sacrifice of the lower ego. Regarding this, Goethe says in the West-Eastern Divan:

And as long as you don’t have that,
This: Die and Be Reborn!
You are but a gloomy guest
On this dark earth.

[ 14 ] A person must be willing to make sacrifices.

[ 15 ] The will-o'-the-wisps are still entangled in the ahamkara, the lower self. Wisdom cannot tolerate this. The life of the soul must be slowly purified, slowly ascending. In the meadow, the will-o’-the-wisps scatter the gold. There they encounter the serpent. She devours the pieces of gold. She makes them one with herself. She has the power not to let her ego become proud and selfish, not to strive upward vertically and haughtily, but to move horizontally through the rocky crevices and gradually attain perfection. A temple is depicted, located within the crevices of the earth. The serpent has already roamed back and forth through them; groping its way, it has sensed that mysterious beings dwell there.

[ 16 ] But now the old man comes with the lamp. The snake has begun to glow because of the gold. The temple is outshone by its radiance. The old man’s lamp has the property that it shines only where there is already light. There, it shines with a very special light. So on one side is the serpent, which has begun to glow because of the gold, and on the other is the man with the lamp, which also shines. The combined light from both makes everything inside the temple visible. In the corners are four kings: a golden king, a silver king, a bronze king, and a mixed king. Previously, the serpent could only discover them by feeling its way; but now they have become visible to it through their own radiance. These are the three higher principles of the human being and the four lower ones. The bronze king is Atma, the divine Self; the silver king is Budhi, the love through which a person can communicate with all people; and the golden king is Manas, the wisdom that radiates out into the world and which can receive this radiant wisdom.

[ 17 ] When a person has selflessly attained wisdom, he can see things in their true nature, without the veil of Maya. The three higher principles of man now become clear to the serpent. The golden king is Manas, just as gold everywhere signifies Manas. The four lower principles are represented and symbolized by the mixed king. Even within the lower principles, Atma, Budhi, and Manas are drawn into the sphere of appearance, but in a disharmonious state. Only when they are purified does something develop that cannot exist in disharmony. The temple is the place of initiation, the secret school, which only those who bring the light themselves—who are selfless like the serpent—can enter. The temple is destined to be revealed one day, rising above the river. It is the realm of the future toward which we all strive. The secret places of instruction are to be elevated. Everything that constitutes the human being is to strive upward, dissolve into harmony, and aspire to the higher principles. What was once taught in the mysteries is to become a revealed mystery. The pilgrims are to cross back and forth over the river, from the sensory world into the supersensory world and vice versa. All people will be united in harmony.

[ 18 ] The Old Man with the Lamp represents where human beings can already gain insight today without having reached the pinnacle of wisdom—namely, through the powers of piety, the heart, and the powers of faith. Faith requires light from outside if it is truly to lead to the higher mysteries. The serpent and the old man with the lamp possess the powers of the spirit that already today guide [the soul] and lead it into the future. Those who already feel these powers today know this from certain mysteries. The Old Man therefore says that he knows three mysteries. But, strangely enough, the fourth mystery is the one being discussed. The serpent hisses something into his ear. Upon hearing this, the Old Man cries out:

It's time!

[ 19 ] The time has come when a great many people will have realized what the path is. The serpent has said that it is ready to sacrifice itself. It has reached the point where it has realized that a person must first die in order to become:

And as long as you do not have that,
This: Die and Be Reborn!
You are but a gloomy guest
On this dark earth.

[ 20 ] To become, in the fullest sense of the word, a human being can only do so through love, devotion, and sacrifice. The serpent is ready for this. This will become apparent when the human being is ready for this sacrifice. Then the temple will stand by the river. The will-o’-the-wisps have not been able to atone for their guilt; they had to promise the ferryman that they would atone for it later. The river accepts only the fruits of the earth: three heads of cabbage, three onions, three artichokes. The will-o’-the-wisps come to the old man’s wife and behave very strangely there. They have licked the gold off the walls. They want to fill themselves with wisdom so they can give it back. The pug eats some of the gold and dies, for all living things must perish from it. It cannot absorb the wisdom the way the snake absorbs and transforms it; therefore, it proves fatal. The old woman must promise the will-o’-the-wisps that she will atone for their debt to the ferryman.

[ 21 ] When the old man comes home with the lamp, he sees what has happened. He tells the old woman to keep her promise, but also to take the dead pug to the beautiful lily, because it brings everything that is dead back to life. The old woman goes to the ferryman with the basket. There she encounters two strange things. On the way, she finds the great giant, who has the peculiar habit of letting his shadow cross the river in the evening, so that the traveler can then cross the river on his shadow. Furthermore, the way across is made possible when the snake arches itself across at noon. The giant can provide the crossing, but so can the snake when the sun is at its highest—when, through the radiant sun of knowledge, a person elevates their self to the divine. In life’s moments of celebration, in moments of complete selflessness, a person unites with the divine.

[ 22 ] The giant represents the crude physical development that human beings must go through. Through this, they also enter the realm of the beyond; but only in the twilight, when their consciousness is extinguished. However, this is a dangerous path taken by those who cultivate psychic powers within themselves and put themselves into a trance state. This transition occurs in the twilight of the trance state. Schiller also once wrote about the shadow of the giant. It is the dark forces that lead people across.

[ 23 ] As the old woman walks past the giant, he steals a head of cabbage, an onion, and an artichoke, leaving her with only a portion of each, which she intends to use to pay off her debt to the will-o’-the-wisps. The triad is thus no longer complete. That which we need and must weave into our soul life is taken from us by the forces of twilight. There is something dangerous in surrendering to them. The lower forces must be purified by the soul forces. The body can ascend only when the soul fully embraces it. Everything that surrounds an inner core in the form of shells is a symbol of the human being’s sheaths. Indian allegory describes these sheaths as the petals of the lotus flower. The human being’s physical nature must be purified within the soul. We must atone by surrendering the lower principles to the life of the soul. We have expressed this atonement for debt in the idea that repayment must be made to the river. This is the entire course of karma.

[ 24 ] Since the old woman’s payment is not enough for the river, she must dip her hand into the river. Afterward, she can only feel her hand, but no longer see it. What appears to us humans as an outward, sensory appearance—what is visible in a human being—is the body; it must be purified through the life of the soul. This symbolizes that if a human being cannot atone for their guilt through the plant realm, they must commit a sin. Then the human being’s actual physical nature becomes invisible. Because the old woman cannot atone for her guilt, she becomes invisible. The “I” can only be seen in the light of day when it has been purified by the life of the soul. The Old Woman says: “Oh, my hand, which is the most beautiful part of me. Precisely that which distinguishes human beings from animals—that which shines through them as spirit—becomes invisible if they have not purified it through karma.”

[ 25 ] The handsome youth strove for the realm of the lily—the spiritual realm—but the beautiful lily paralyzed him. Goethe is referring to the ancient truth that a person must first be purified, must have undergone catharsis, so that he no longer attains wisdom through guilt, so that he can absorb the radiance of higher spirituality within himself. The young man had not yet been prepared through this purification. Everything living that is not yet ripe is killed by the lily. Everything dead that has gone through “die and become” is revived by the lily. Goethe says that the one who is ripe for freedom is the one who has first liberated himself within. Jakob Böhme also says that human beings must develop beyond the lower principles.

Whoever does not die before he dies,
Will perish when he dies.

[ 26 ] A person must first be mature and purified before he can enter the realm of the Spirit—the lily. In the ancient mysteries, a person first had to pass through stages of purification before becoming an initiate. The young man must first pass through these stages. Through them, he is led to the lily.

[ 27 ] The serpent symbolizes development. We see gathered around the lily those who seek the new path—all those who strive toward the spiritual. But first, the temple must rise above the river. All are moving toward the river, led by the will-o’-the-wisps; they unlock the gate. Selfish wisdom is the bridge to selfless wisdom. Through the self, wisdom leads upward toward selflessness. The serpent has sacrificed itself. Now one understands what love is: a sacrifice of the lower self for the good of humanity, complete brotherhood.

[ 28 ] The entire assembly moves toward the temple. The temple rises above the river. The young man is revived. He is endowed with Atma, Budhi, and Manas. Atma, in the form of the bronze king, steps before the young man and hands him the sword. It is the highest Will, unmixed with the others. Atma is to work within the human being in such a way that the sword is held in the left hand and the right hand is free. Previously, the human being acted in isolation—a war of all against all. But now, when the human being is purified, peace will take the place of strife: the sword in the left hand for protection, the right hand free to do good.

[ 29 ] The second king refers to what is for the time being known to us as the second principle, as Budhi—piety, the disposition by which a person turns to the Supreme in faith. Silver is the symbol of piety. The second king says:

Feed the sheep,

[ 30 ] since we are dealing here with the power of the mind. The appearance here is the appearance of beauty. Goethe associated art with religious veneration. He saw in art the revelation of the divine; the realm of beautiful appearance is the realm of piety. The bronze king symbolizes—without the base principles—power; the silver king, peace; and the golden king, wisdom. He says:

Recognize the Supreme.

[ 31 ] The young man is the human being composed of four principles, who is evolving toward the higher principles. The four principles are paralyzed by the spirit before they have undergone the purifying process of development. The three higher principles then work in harmony within the human being. Then he will be strong and vigorous; then he may wed the lily. This is the union between the soul and the spirit of the human being. The soul has always been depicted as something feminine; the mystery of the eternal, the imperishable, is represented here.

The eternal feminine draws us upward.

[ 32 ] Goethe used the same image here in “The Fairy Tale” to describe the young man’s marriage to the beautiful Lily.

[ 33 ] Now, from the sacrificed human self, all that is alive flows across the arching bridge. Wanderers cross back and forth. All realms are now united in beautiful harmony. The Old Woman is rejuvenated, as is the Old Man with the lamp; the old has passed away, and everything has become new. The ferryman’s little hut is now preserved in a silvered state as a kind of altar within the temple. That which formerly carried people across unconsciously now carries them across in a conscious state. The hybrid king has collapsed. The will-o’-the-wisps licked the gold away, for they are still focused on the lowly. The giant now marks the passage of time. That which was once a sensual principle—that which led across at twilight, that which is sensual, that which belongs to the natural state—now marks the steady passage of time. As long as human beings have not developed the three higher principles, the past and the future are in conflict. The giant can then only act in a disharmonious manner. Now, in this ideal state, time has become something harmonious.

[ 34 ] Thought permanently stabilizes that which is unstable, as expressed in the following words:

And whatever floats in ever-changing form,
Anchor it with enduring thoughts.

[ 35 ] What is regarded in the Pythagorean school as the rhythm of the universe—the music of the spheres, the sounds of the planets as they move rhythmically around the sun—arises from the realization of the divine thought. For the mystic, a planet was a being of a higher order. That is why Goethe also says:

The sun resounds in the ancient way
A contest of song in the spheres of the brotherhood,
And its prescribed journey
It completes with a thunderous roar.

[ 36 ] He expresses the idea that human beings possess within themselves the ability to evolve into the highest divine being in the following words:

If the eye were not like the sun,
It could never behold the sun;
If God’s own power did not live within us,
How could the divine delight us?