The Rudolf Steiner Archive

16. Goethe's Gospel I

[ 1 ] [In these lectures, I would like to present a picture of the theosophical worldview that is entirely free from any dogmatism, by attempting to show, through phenomena of our own spiritual life, what is characteristic of it.]

[ 2 ] Those who know how strongly I have opposed propaganda and the propagation of ideas will also know how vehemently I have opposed the view that Theosophy involves the introduction of some foreign Eastern worldview into our time, and how I have emphasized that Theosophy must be life—immediate, real life. If Theosophy were something that had only come into the world through the Theosophical Society, then one could indeed have very little confidence in it. How could it be that, for millennia, humanity would have had to wait for the new gospel of Theosophy! Rather, what we are dealing with in the Theosophical Society is the renewal of the spiritual current rooted in the human soul. But what should interest people today most of all is seeing how geniuses close to them are completely imbued with what is called Theosophy, the theosophical worldview.

[ 3 ] Setting aside all others, there is above all one great German figure whose work—especially that of his later life—is deeply rooted in this worldview: Goethe. Admittedly, the juxtaposition of Goethe and theosophy may surprise you at first; but anyone who, like me, has been engaged in the study of Goethe for more than twenty years—particularly the study of Goethe’s profound “Faust” poetry—will find themselves increasingly attuned to what I shall attempt to expound today. Over the years, I have encountered many interpretations of Faust, many scholars of Faust, and many attempts to penetrate the marvel that is the Faust epic. Yet what I am about to present to you has revealed itself to me in the most natural way, quite of its own accord. In the first of these two lectures, I will speak about Goethe’s Gospel, taking Goethe’s Faust as my starting point, and in the next lecture I will offer some insights into Goethe from this perspective. We will then attempt—after I have interspersed a lecture on the basic concepts of theosophy— to grasp Goethe where he reveals himself to us most deeply and is least understood: in his fairy tale of the green serpent and the beautiful lily, which one need only understand to gain a profound insight, on the one hand, into the wisdom of the world and, on the other hand, into Goethe’s innermost nature, into his innermost soul. These lectures on Goethe will be followed, in a casual manner, by reflections on the great initiates of all times and on Ibsen. I will then attempt to include a lecture on the significance of Siegfried, as well as Parzival and Lohengrin.

[ 4 ] Goethe was, by his very nature and in the deepest sense of his life, a theosophist. He was so, above all, because he never accepted any limit to cognition, any limit to his knowledge and activity, but was, above all, deeply imbued with the conviction that there is no human standpoint beyond which one cannot advance to an even higher one, from which the world reveals itself not only in a broader scope but also in a more meaningful way. Goethe was, by his very nature, destined for the worldview we are discussing here. His worldview was based on the premise that human beings stand in a deeply kinship-like relationship to the rest of the world, and that this rest of the world is not merely material, not merely outwardly physical, but equally spiritual—that a divine, creative, active Spirit expresses itself throughout the entire world. One might say that this is pantheism. But pantheism assumes that an indeterminate divine entity pervades the world and also animates human beings. The Theosophical worldview, however, assumes that this is not an indeterminate, incomprehensible entity, but rather a spiritual entity toward which we can continually ascend, and that we can establish a relationship with this spiritual entity; [we can ascend to a living relationship with the great God].

[ 5 ] Goethe’s entire disposition made him well-suited to this act of placing himself in a relationship. Even as a seven-year-old boy, he sought out God. He built an altar with plants and stones, placed incense sticks on top, took a magnifying glass, and when the first rays of the rising sun shone through the window, he focused the sun’s rays so that they lit the incense sticks. Thus, this arrangement served as an altar upon which he performed a service to nature, a religious service. [He wanted to kindle a sacrificial rite by the fire of nature]—so innate was this worldview to him. Then, as he came to know the world itself more and more deeply and thoroughly in Leipzig and immersed himself in the various sciences, a perspective emerged within him that is pure theosophy. He recounts it to us in Poetry and Truth. There he says: When we survey the various religions and philosophies of the world, we find something in common everywhere, a shared core of truth. Wherever religion, philosophy, or a worldview has emerged—whether in mythical-allegorical or philosophical form—it is always the human striving to seek the connection between one’s lower self and the deepest part of one’s heart, which is called the divine and through which one can attain a connection with the Deity itself. Thus, the sages of all ages have illustrated the pendulum swing between the lower and the higher self, and we see how this finds expression in fairy tales, myths, and legends; it can be found everywhere.

[ 6 ] After Goethe had himself brushed with death following his studies in Leipzig and returned to Frankfurt, he devoted himself to mystical studies. You can read in Poetry and Truth what impact this period had on Goethe and what emerged within him once he had gained a thorough understanding of the natural sciences during his time in Strasbourg. Nothing expresses this better than his decision to give voice to humanity’s entire yearning for wisdom and for oneness with the divine in a great poetic work, Faust. In doing so, he draws upon the world of legends through which the waning Middle Ages hinted at the contrast between the old and the new eras.

[ 7 ] Faust is the character who seeks to free himself from all tradition and the fundamental ideas of the Middle Ages, and to advance toward a higher knowledge from within his own heart. Goethe did not allow Faust to perish, as was still the case in the sixteenth century, but instead had him redeemed through the power of his own striving soul. In doing so, he placed this entire problem on a new foundation, so that even today we must perceive every word of this poem as an expression of our own thoughts and feelings. I will discuss specific details in the following lectures. I must now introduce you directly to what is at stake here.

[ 8 ] First, after portraying Faust in his youth as a man striving for greatness, bringing his “Faust” poem with him to Weimar, and having ascended to a purer understanding and worldview, Goethe placed his “Faust” on a new foundation in the 1890s. At the beginning of Faust we find the “Prologue in Heaven.” Here, Goethe seeks to show us what his Faust poem is all about. He wants to tell us nothing other than this: Human destiny is not determined solely in this physical world; it is determined in higher, spiritual worlds. If you recall my lectures this winter, I said at the time: The physical world that surrounds us is not the only world; there are higher worlds—the world of the soul, or the astral world, and what we call the devachanic world, the spiritual world, heaven. That which undergoes a struggle in the outer world is not significant solely for the outer world, but is a reflection of forces from the supersensible worlds. When we enter the world of the soul, we enter a world of colorful existence. For those whose spiritual senses are open, the astral world can be perceived as a world resplendent with colors—a world of beauty and grandeur, but also of terror and cruelty that are never found in our physical world. The Devachanic world can be described as a world of sound. The Pythagorean music of the spheres can truly be heard by those whose spiritual ears are open; it is not merely an allegory, but a reality.

[ 9 ] It is therefore extremely interesting that Goethe, quite appropriately—I would say, using a technical term of a mystic or theosophist—describes this world of Devachan in his “Prologue in Heaven.” The planets and the sun are endowed with souls. Goethe speaks appropriately in the spirit of mysticism; thus, he must also express that he finds that sound in this world. And so he truly begins this “Prologue in Heaven” as follows:

The sun resounds in the ancient way
In the realms of the brothers, a contest of song,
And its prescribed journey
It completes with a thunderous roar.

[ 10 ] The sun does not make a sound in the physical sense, and anyone who says that this is merely a metaphor is speaking superficially. You can see, when Faust—having undergone purification—is to be raised to Devachan, just how precisely Goethe describes this Devachanic world:

With a sound that resonates in the ears of the spirit
the new day is already dawning.

[ 11 ] Here Goethe speaks of the ears of the spirit, of the sounds of the spiritual world. We do not describe this in the form of poetic imagery, but in the language of theosophical science. In the “Prologue in Heaven,” almost every word can be interpreted in a way that aligns with our worldview. In this, we see an important principle of human existence emerge. You are all familiar with the law of karma. You know that when a person passes through the gate of death, they take with them the experiences they have had in this world, and that they then take the fruits of this world with them in such a way that they extract, so to speak, an essence—their eternal self—from this earthly world. Because their thoughts are a reflection of the spiritual world, they are able to take these fruits with them into the spiritual world. It is entirely in accordance with the Law of Karma when God calls out to the angels:

And whatever hovers in shifting form
Is anchored by enduring thoughts.

[ 12 ] Of course, anyone who wishes to may say that these are poetic images. But anyone who knows—as Goethe did—that before he wrote these things, he had not only engaged with mysticism in a practical way for decades but had also thoroughly familiarized himself with medieval mysticism, knows that Goethe drew these ideas from the mystical way of thinking and perspective. We know that the theosophical worldview traces its foundations back to the great sages, to higher spiritual individualities who have already reached the level to which the average person will only rise in the future. These great sages are the great teachers of humanity. Theosophy has been criticized for speaking of such unknown sages. Goethe also speaks of such unknown sages in the passage where Faust, in his first monologue—imbued with the futility of knowledge—seeks to grasp the source of life and has already caught a glimpse of the divine life.

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!”

[ 13 ] This is an expression found among mystics of all ages. Jakob Böhme titled the work with which he began his mystical career “Aurora.” Goethe places “Morgenrot” in quotation marks. He is expressing something he knew from his own inner experience of practical mysticism, not a general phrase or a common saying; he is speaking entirely in the technical-mystical sense.

[ 14 ] When we survey Faust, what do we see in the first part? As you know, we distinguish between a lower self—the self that gains experience of the external world through the gates of the senses—and, purified through manifold paths, finally ascends to the higher self. As you read through the first part, you will find a depiction of the struggle of the human lower self with the surrounding world. Faust must first overcome this struggle before he can attain true mystical knowledge within himself. From the very beginning, he strives for this knowledge. And once again, we encounter several sentences that can only be understood by those familiar with the theosophical worldview. When Faust recognizes his connection to the higher Self, he turns to the Earth Spirit. This is a masterpiece of a depiction of spiritual life; [the astral body of the Earth, spiritually fashioned from its fruits and woven into an imperishable garment of the soul].

In the tides of life, in the storm of deeds
I surge back and forth,
Weaving to and fro!
Birth and grave, an eternal sea,
A shifting weave,
A blazing life,
Thus I toil at the whirring loom of time
And weave a living garment for the Deity.

[ 15 ] This description—particularly the last line—is highly significant for all forms of mysticism; it expresses how the soul, drawing on the soul’s earlier experiences of this Self, shapes and weaves a form that endures eternally.

[ 16 ] Faust must turn away like a worm cowering in fear. He is not yet ready to reach the sources of life. He must let Mephistopheles, the tempter, guide him through the world. Goethe gives Mephistopheles a form in the spirit of ancient Hebrew mysticism. “Mephis” means “corruptor,” and “Tophel” means “liar.” These are the forces and entities that are always present in the world as obstacles. While human beings strive to move forward, these forces hold them back, and in the moral world, they become the tempters. The tempter is Mephistopheles. He guides Faust through the realms of the lower self, through all kinds of experiences of our lower self.

[ 17 ] We see how Faust is dissatisfied with the science of the intellect. Even the highest scholarship can be nothing more than an engagement with the sensory world. He is then led through passion and so on toward purification. Faust now wishes to stand once more before the Spirit from whom he had to turn away. He appears before this Spirit once more in the scene “The Forest and the Cave.” He is now able to address the Spirit in such a way that he can express a fundamental creed, as you will find in any theosophical book. He is moved by the fact that this spirit can show him that our brothers are to be found in all beings, how we are connected to all, and that when we discover our kinship with all our brothers, we find our own divine self. Goethe beautifully depicts, in imagery, the ascent of the human being in his knowledge.

Sublime Spirit, you gave me, gave me everything,
That I asked for. You did not in vain
Turn your face toward me in the fire.
You gave me the magnificent natural world as my kingdom,
The power to feel it, to enjoy it. You do not
do you merely allow me to be a cold, marveling visitor,
but grant me to gaze into its deep bosom,
as into the bosom of a friend.
You lead the procession of the living
past me, and teach me to know my brothers
in the silent thicket, in air and water.

[ 18 ] What is so remarkable is that Goethe led his Faust to this acknowledgment of looking inward into his own self. Just as Faust, having gone through a series of temptations, sees the transience of life in his lower self, he gains insight into the fact that it is possible to truly recognize the higher self.

[ 19 ] Now that Faust has been deeply crushed by the vicissitudes of life, he is to be led up to higher levels. Previously, he had only experienced what is accessible to base egoism. Now he works at the imperial court for the base selves of others. In the midst of this work, amidst the transience of the world, Faust is raised to an immediately mystical vantage point. Goethe himself rejected the view that the second part of Faust was anything other than the purest expression of a truly mystical inner life. A friend asked him whether he intended to conclude his Faust as he had written in the first part:

A good person, even in their darkest moments
Is well aware of the right path.

[ 20 ] “Oh no,” replied Goethe, “Faust dies at a very advanced age, and in old age one becomes a mystic. But that would be Enlightenment.” Once Goethe had attained a worldview that allowed a free glimpse into the spiritual world, he could no longer let Faust end in the spirit of the Enlightenment. Thus, in 1827, he said to Eckermann about the second part of Faust: “I conceived Faust in such a way that the images are also interesting and dramatic for the mind.” Everyone can take pleasure in the imagery. But for the initiate, there is something quite different in my Faust. You will see that many a riddle is veiled within it. Goethe did not, admittedly, conceal anything unfathomable in the second part of Faust, but rather something that cannot be discovered by the superficial mind.

[ 21 ] At court, the emperor demands that Paris and Helen appear before everyone. We are faced with a problem that takes us beyond the physical world. Goethe captures this in its deepest sense. Faust must descend to the “Mothers.” Scholars have read many things into this. For those endowed with mystical insight, it is clear what is meant here. In all forms of mysticism, the highest spiritual aspect of the world has always been described as something feminine. This is entirely appropriate, for what human beings call knowledge and higher life dawns upon them in their souls when they allow themselves to be fertilized by the forces at work in the universe. Knowledge is a process of fertilization; that is why, in all forms of mysticism, the eternal has been sought in the feminine, in the “mothers.” The theosophical worldview sees the highest that the human soul can attain in the higher, upper trinity, in Sanskrit: Manas, Budhi, Atman—the spiritual self, the life spirit, and the true spirit of the human being. This higher trinity must be developed within the human being if he is to attain true self-knowledge. Only then, however, does he attain a connection with the primal, eternal sources of existence. Goethe alludes to this trinity by having the mothers set up a tripod from which fire flows. Mysticism recognizes this fire as the primordial matter. There, Faust can draw forth the spiritual essence from Paris and Helen. The spiritual is neither above nor below; that is why Mephistopheles says:

Then sink! I could just as well say: rise!

[ 22 ] This shows how that which is eternal in Paris and Helen is drawn up from the spiritual-soul world.

[ 23 ] Now, however, it is crucial—in order for a person to rise to this purely spiritual realm—that he be purified to such an extent that the desires of the body and the lower qualities and drives of the soul are purified, so that the person no longer craves this highest spiritual realm impetuously, but rather relates to it selflessly. When Faust brings this up, he craves it impetuously, and this causes an explosion. Faust still needs to be purified and cleansed. He must come to know the mystery of how human nature is structured, how the three members—body, soul, and spirit—interact to form a whole. Conventional psychology recognizes only body and soul; it is a science that has remained stuck at two-thirds of the human being because it does not acknowledge the threefold nature of the human being. School psychology considers itself very learned, but to those who see through it, it is the most amateurish thing imaginable. Faust is meant to recognize how body, soul, and spirit are united—this profound mystery of human nature. It is here that we can most deeply perceive Goethe, how he has become a mystic through and through, how he has immersed himself in the insights that are also found in our theosophical textbooks.

[ 24 ] First, Faust is to become acquainted with the soul. The soul is presented to us in a peculiar yet appropriate way, as Faust is led back to the laboratory where he had been before and where the homunculus is now being created. This homunculus is nothing other than an image of the human soul. And every word becomes wonderfully clear when one conceives of the homunculus as a soul without a body—a soul that has not yet incarnated. The homunculus

There is no lack of intellectual qualities,
but there is a severe lack of tangible competence.

[ 25 ] When the soul is free from the body, when it appears without the veils of physicality, it is clairvoyant, not dependent on seeing through the senses. It sees into the very core of human nature. It perceives not only what has outward color or resounds in outward tones, but also the drives and the most intimate thoughts of human beings. This is something that can be perceived clairvoyantly: the non-physical world. Goethe endows the Homunculus with clairvoyance. The Homunculus, who looks into the innermost depths of the human soul, describes Faust’s entire dream. In this way, we can examine the entire second part of Faust: the soul is expressed through the Homunculus.

[ 26 ] The third aspect of the human being—the body—is that which has developed from the most imperfect to the most perfect, not only in the sense of natural science but also in the sense of mysticism. But mysticism does not merely observe, as modern natural science does, how the physical body has developed from the most imperfect to the most perfect; rather, mysticism also shows how the physical body has developed through the mineral kingdom, the plant kingdom, and the animal kingdom, all the way to the human being. The body has evolved along this path until it became capable of uniting with the soul. Goethe depicts this gradual development of the physical body in magnificent imagery in the second part of Faust. He has the homunculus lead Mephisto and Faust out into the fields of the “Classical Walpurgis Night.” There he is brought together with the one who guides the transformation of the physical form—Proteus—as well as with the sages Thales and Anaxagoras, who know how physical transformations take place. There it is shown how this homunculus, as a soul, can acquire a body by living through all the kingdoms of nature. He must begin at the lowest level, the mineral kingdom, and then slowly proceed to the higher kingdoms. Goethe describes in a marvelous way how this process of becoming a body ascends from the mineral kingdom to the plant kingdom. Goethe coined an expression to describe this so wonderfully vividly:

It growls like this

[ 27 ] — the plant structures!

[ 28 ] It is only at a certain stage of development that what is called sexual life emerges, connecting with all the formative forces that were already present earlier. Goethe expresses this by having Eros unite at this stage with the homunculus striving for form. This is how Goethe described how the soul develops until it is ripe to receive the spirit. Here we are at the end of the second act of the second part of Faust. Faust has come to know the secret of how the three members of human nature are united: the immortal, the eternal—which is in the realm of the “Mothers”—the soul, and the body. This is what enables a human being to incarnate. This is what enables that which also lived physically in the outer world and belonged to times long past—Helena—to incarnate once more. We encounter her again at the beginning of the third act. She has incarnated; Helena stands in the flesh before Faust. Thus, Faust has passed through this mystical insight; he has experienced and come to know the mystery of becoming human.

[ 29 ] I have said that in every form of mysticism, the soul within the human being is conceived as something feminine. Then the struggle for the higher, the striving toward the higher, finds expression precisely in Faust’s pursuit of Helena. Faust unites with Helena. This is, first and foremost, the symbolic expression of an inner experience. Faust seeks the higher, and that is where the spiritual is born. The symbol of poetry expresses this through the union of the masculine and feminine aspects of the soul, whereby higher spiritual knowledge is brought forth: Euphorion. Euphorion represents how, in mystical moments, the spirit comes alive within human nature. The mystic knows these moments. But there is one thing he must still experience: At first, what he experiences in this way is only a fleeting moment, merely a moment of celebration in life, a moment of mystical immersion; then he must return to his calling, to his everyday sciences. These mystical insights are moments of celebration; but moments of celebration die quickly: Euphorion dies quickly. What follows now is drawn deeply from mystical consciousness. Euphorion, after he has vanished once more into the spiritual realm, calls out to his mother Helena:

Don't leave me alone, Mother,
in this dark realm!

[ 30 ] This is a voice that everyone who has experienced mystical moments has heard at least once. The spiritual realm always calls out to the soul, the “Mother”: “Do not leave me alone; seek me out!” Theory cannot speak here; direct experience must speak in order to grasp the full depth of what is at stake here. The mystical moments of contemplation are portrayed by Euphorion. Faust’s serene worldview, in contrast to what took place at the imperial court, now comes to the fore. Faust is now to be led not merely to experience isolated moments of mystical contemplation, for that is still an imperfect state. The perfect mystic acts from within the spiritual world; he acts with selfless devotion, like a messenger of the Divine, as if the Divine itself were creating. This is the case with Faust when he has reached higher levels.

[ 31 ] But Faust is not yet at the point where he is elevated above all the trials that the lower self endures. Nothing must speak to the mystic’s senses anymore; the senses must become a gateway to the spiritual. Once more, for the last time, Faust succumbs to temptation. Something disturbs his eye; he has Philemon and Baucis’s hut removed. That was the last external temptation; from now on, he can no longer be tempted through his senses.

[ 32 ] But there is still something within man that connects him to his lower self: memory, which still clings to his lower self and repeatedly pulls him down into this lower world. This is symbolized by worry approaching Faust. But even this trial passes from him. Faust goes blind. Now it is implied that, by going blind, Faust becomes one who sees: a bright light shines within him, while outside it grows dark and gloomy. He has become a mystic in the most beautiful sense; he has become a clairvoyant; he sees into the spiritual world.

[ 33 ] Faust has undergone a struggle through the stages of the lower and higher self, all the way to the depths of the mystical worldview. This struggle between the lower and the higher is a struggle between good and evil. Now, Goethe has precisely hinted at how good and evil interact—allowing the human warrior to pass through them in the middle for the sake of purification—in a profound riddle in the second part of the first act. Commentators have tried in vain to explain this passage.

What is cursed yet always welcome?
What is longed for yet always driven away?
What is constantly protected?
What is harshly scolded and accused?
Whom must you not summon?
Whose name does everyone love to hear?
What approaches the steps of your throne?
What has banished itself?

[ 34 ] You will hardly find an explanation for these enigmatic words in commentaries on Faust. But to those who know the deeper meaning of Faust, they unravel effortlessly. We can go through it line by line and need only say “evil” for the first line and “good” for the second, and we have the entire solution to the riddle. This is how Goethe depicts this struggle between good and evil within man, and he allows Faust to become a mystic.

[ 35 ] Goethe can only hint at the final stages of development, and he makes use of mystical symbolism. Each line is once again deeply significant for the mystical path, the mystical stages that the mystic passes through in his practical development. And then, at the end, Goethe hints to us that this is indeed what he meant in the second part of Faust. He stood there alone when he had arrived at this mystical insight.

[ 36 ] When one reads Faust in one’s youth, one will find much; later, one will find more and more; and still later, even more. I, too, have been able to describe today only a glimmer of what lies within Faust. Faust has become something entirely different in the second part than what was intended in the first. The older Goethe can only be understood if one takes him so deeply. He knew that there were many who defended the young Goethe against the older one. In a moment of resentment, he spoke out against those who want to accept only his earlier works and whatever else is easily understandable, and who say: “Goethe has grown old.” To them he cries out:

There they praise Faust
And whatever else
Rages in my works
In their favor.
Old Mick and Mack
Are very pleased;
They think the rabble
Is no longer there!

[ 37 ] Goethe knew that “he was still himself,” and he also knew that he could not be understood.

[ 38 ] In the second part of Faust, Goethe has hidden many secrets for the initiate who is willing to listen for them. And then, to suggest that he intended Faust to be understood in a mystical sense, he concluded the second part with the “Chorus mysticus.” There he shows us how he sees nothing in anything transitory but a parable for the imperishable, for the eternal. This is the perspective of mysticism or theosophy: that what exists in the sensory world is merely a parable for the imperishable. That which a human being can never attain in the sensory world—that which he strives for in the sensory world, namely, to recognize the true meaning of life—this “inadequacy” becomes an “event” in the higher world through practical mysticism; and what cannot be described can be experienced. Then the spiritual powers slumbering within the human being are awakened; he not only perceives through the senses but is led upward into the higher worlds. What is “indescribable” in the sensory world is accomplished, now in the higher worlds. And that which mystics of all ages have called the “feminine”—the highest, that toward which the lower strives, that which Goethe sought in the “mothers,” in the “feminine”—the “Eternally Feminine,” the highest in the human soul—draws the human being upward. This is the fundamental conviction of Goethe, the mystic, which he has expressed here and which sheds light on all that he has enshrined in his Faust:

All that is fleeting
Is but a parable;
That which is inadequate
Here becomes an event;
The indescribable,
Here it is accomplished;
The eternally feminine
Draws us upward.