The Rudolf Steiner Archive

7. Findings from Spiritual Research on Questions of Life and the Mystery of Death

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! My task this evening will be to speak about important questions of life and existence from the perspective of what is known as spiritual science—that is, from a perspective that is by no means popular today and that faces an extraordinary amount of prejudice. Yet one can certainly say that what later becomes common knowledge in this or that field was, at some earlier time, also new, unpopular, and subject to prejudice. And so, without further introduction, I will move on to the subject at hand.

[ 2 ] The humanities deal with a comprehensive field of worldview. But when one surveys the entirety of what constitutes the content of the humanities, everything ultimately boils down to answering two existential questions or mysteries—ones that do not arise in a separate field of science, but which, in essence, appear before us everywhere in life. These are the kinds of existential mysteries that engage not only our intellectual curiosity but also our deepest human concerns; they are questions whose solutions we are not merely curious about, but for which we yearn, because inner peace, vitality, but also pain, doubt, and anxiety are connected to them. We can summarize what is at stake in two words: human destiny and human immortality—or we could say: death.

[ 3 ] Human destiny raises particularly profound and serious questions at every turn. We see how one person enters into existence and, from birth, is surrounded by the worries and struggles of those who must care for him, so that a life filled with more or less suffering will be his fate; or we see how he displays only limited abilities and aptitudes, so that he cannot become a valuable member of humanity. In contrast, another person enters life through no fault of their own and with no merit of their own, surrounded from an early age by caring hands, so that a certainly happy life will be their destiny; we see how abilities manifest themselves in them early on, enabling them to become a useful member of society. Perhaps one can dismiss these questions with reason and keep them at bay. But then, when our feelings speak to us about life, when our desires must grapple with the circumstances of life, all those desires and feelings emerge from the depths of the subconscious, awakening an anxious longing for an answer to such questions. And perhaps not out of a thirst for knowledge, but rather in our joy or discontent with life, we can feel how the soul urges us to know something that lies in the direction hinted at.

[ 4 ] The mystery of death also confronts people in a very special way. After all, what people know about immortality often does not seem scientific. How much passion, how many prejudices are involved in this question. The fear of death or the desire to prolong one’s existence play a role in the assessment of the question and in the answer most people wish to give themselves. When the natural sciences were beginning to emerge as a worldview, there were people who completely denied the possibility of the soul’s survival, and it must be said that among these deniers were many who often stood on a much higher moral and ethical plane than those who accepted immortality. These were people who said to themselves: What we have earned, what we have achieved during our lives from birth to death—we want to sacrifice that for the common good. These people saw in this a morally higher principle than the selfish desire to pass on what they had earned. One cannot deny that such people truly belonged to the ranks of the morally upright.

[ 5 ] And yet—there is a perspective from which the question of immortality must be raised in a thoroughly scientific manner, even if we do not yet fully appreciate this scientific approach today. Let us ask ourselves, with a little self-knowledge: What is the nature of what human beings create, and specifically, what they become as human beings?—In its innermost nature, this has a personal, an individual character. With some self-observation, one can say: The best in each soul is so unique that we cannot at all impart this best to the general public; it is impossible to impart this best to the general public. And if, after death, our awareness of our soul’s existence were to be destroyed, then the most valuable thing would be lost not only to us but to the world as a whole. If it were true that a human being develops something of the greatest value, only to have what is most valuable to them on Earth destroyed in an instant—nothing of the sort happens anywhere else in the vast expanse of the universe. What happens is that forces, strained to their utmost, are incorporated into the world economy. That is when the question becomes scientific.

[ 6 ] This is how we have characterized the two questions—the question of human destiny and that of human immortality—that we wish to focus on today. Spiritual science appears unpopular in contemporary spiritual life because it is quite foreign to people’s habitual ways of thinking. People are accustomed to relying on external sensory observations and on the intellect, which is bound to the brain. But these two alone cannot grasp the true essence of human nature. This raises the question: Are there other ways of gaining knowledge? This is precisely what spiritual science seeks to convey to general spiritual culture: that there are specific methods for attaining such avenues of knowledge. To become acquainted with these, we must begin with a phenomenon related to the fact of death, one that is not given sufficient attention because what we are accustomed to is not regarded as a source of enigmatic questions. What occurs less frequently—or in a way that unsettles us—such as death or fate—becomes a riddle. But everyday consciousness passes by a riddle that is just as significant—the riddle of sleep. We must work our way through this riddle if we wish to approach the question of death.

[ 7 ] Every day we see how consciousness sinks into nothingness during sleep. Let us consider the fact of falling asleep—leaving scientific hypotheses entirely aside. The limbs cease to function; the soul feels alienated from the senses and from the inner life bound to the physical body; then the darkness of unconsciousness begins. Now there are many scientific views on this subject; we will not address them today, although it would be very interesting to see all the experiments being conducted in our time. But we wish to offer some spiritual-scientific reflections.

[ 8 ] First, as an assumption or hypothesis, what spiritual science has to say about sleep. The facts will then, in a sense, emerge from this hypothesis. Spiritual science says it is illogical to assume that one’s entire daily life, with all its experiences, sinks into nothingness in the evening and is recreated anew in the morning. These experiences must still be present somewhere. On the other hand, spiritual science must concur with the view, also expressed by Du Bois-Reymond, that when one observes a sleeping person lying in bed, one cannot discern in him any cause for why he should be filled with ideas that encompass his entire waking daily life. Spiritual science regards all of this—the images, memories, and so on of waking life—as a spiritual-soul reality that withdraws from the physical body and the etheric body during sleep and passes into the spiritual world, so that the human being, with his inner existence, is indeed outside the physical body. Then the human being is in the spiritual world, and in the morning this spiritual-soul aspect of the human being once again submerges into physicality, into the realm of the senses, the brain, and so on. Thus, during sleep, the human being is, as it were, split into a physical being and a spiritual-soul being; in wakefulness, the two come together again.

[ 9 ] The materialistic monist will object: How can you sin so grievously against the commandment of monism; you are splitting the human being into two parts! – One might object that the chemist commits the same sin when he splits water into hydrogen and oxygen; but one cannot forbid him from doing so. In spiritual science, we do not speak of a duality of the human being in any other way. Someone who is unfamiliar with the methods of chemistry and therefore unable to recognize the presence of hydrogen in water might just as well claim that hydrogen does not exist. In the same way, someone might say that what leaves the body during sleep does not exist. The point is that during sleep, the human being’s spiritual-soul aspect is not conscious of itself. For ordinary consciousness, all of this is not present once it has left the body. And everything depends on the human being being able to recognize what has emerged as a reality.

[ 10 ] This is achieved through rules that spiritual researchers must apply to themselves. It is achieved by the spiritual researcher’s soul entering a state similar to sleep, yet at the same time opposite to it. The hallmark of the state of sleep is that the ability to move one’s limbs ceases, that inactivity of the senses and the intellect sets in, and finally, unconsciousness occurs. Could another state also arise? Yes. To this end, let us make an assumption that will prove true: Let us assume that a person truly becomes free from their body, so that during sleep this supersensory being cannot experience itself in the ordinary state. If we could now bring about something through which this human soul would nevertheless be able to experience itself, then although the movement of the limbs and so on would be ruled out, consciousness would still be present. This state is brought about by inner means—through meditation, concentration, and contemplation.

[ 11 ] There are forces within the soul that, so to speak, merely need to be strengthened if full consciousness is to replace the unconsciousness of sleep. This is achieved by deliberately causing the person to exclude the movement of the limbs—leaving them as still as the body is during sleep—and then to exclude all impressions of light, colors, and sounds that distract their thoughts. They must artificially induce a state of detachment from the outside world, and then they must exclude the thoughts of ordinary life. When this empty state of consciousness occurs in ordinary life, the person falls asleep. But long, patient practice enables the person to [keep their consciousness awake], and then the task is to use their will to bring any arbitrary image into the center of their consciousness and fill their consciousness with it. Things from the external world are not suitable for this; symbolic images that we create ourselves are much better. Anyone might say that having such images in one’s mind is a crazy thing. But what matters is what effect they have on the soul.

[ 12 ] Let’s imagine, for example, two glasses: one empty, the other containing a little water. Now let’s imagine that we continuously pour water from the latter into the first glass, so that the latter does not become emptier, but rather fuller and fuller. That is actually a rather crazy idea. But that is not the point here; rather, the point is that this image serves as a symbol for a profound mystery: love. Love is something we cannot grasp with human concepts, not even with the faintest inkling. It is a mystery. But we can describe one of its qualities: through what the soul gives, it becomes ever fuller, ever richer. Love possesses this quality, which we can express symbolically, and in it we find something peculiar that we are accustomed to in another realm.

[ 13 ] Or imagine a circular medal. All the relationships between radius, diameter, circumference, area, and so on can be determined from it, but just as easily from a drawn circle; for the laws governing the circle also apply to the medal. Mathematics constantly presents such symbols of laws. The spiritual researcher does nothing other than apply this mathematical method to a higher realm—not merely to thought, but to life itself. We do not speculate about these symbols; rather, what matters is that all our impulses are directed toward them, and the power we develop there is what truly matters. While the soul is otherwise scattered, we—even if only for a few minutes—completely focus our inner life. One must continue these practices for years; then a very specific result will occur: Now the person feels that what otherwise sank into unconsciousness is becoming active within them, that this is something that was otherwise filled with nothing at all.

[ 14 ] One must allow many such ideas to take effect. Then very specific experiences and events appear as images, as “imaginations”; they spring up before us, they stand right there in front of us. This already achieves something, but it is something that must be handled with caution. Anyone who takes an external, materialistic standpoint will rightly say: Now you have reached the same point as those who have hallucinations and visions and draw from their souls something that is worthless. – There is indeed a pitfall here. People who experience such visions will believe in them as something real, much more real than the things they see with their eyes. There are people who devise the most logical system to support their delusions in order to sustain themselves. There is a term that explains all of this, and it lies in the word “self-love.” Why does a person believe in these ideas? Out of self-love; because they themselves have brought them forth from within; because, at first, a person cannot help but identify with what they are inwardly. This must be taken into account by a researcher of the spirit. They must possess such a strong will that they tell themselves: What I see is merely a reflection of my own being.

[ 15 ] The spiritual researcher must be strong enough to be able, through his will, to dispel and erase this entire world of imagination. Once one has developed one’s soul to the point where its contents appear as objects, they must be cast back into nothingness; only then can one say that one is prepared to attain spiritual perceptions. What matters is not so much developing this or that vision, but rather developing the otherwise dormant powers of the soul—strengthening powers that are otherwise weak. In particular, this requires a strong inner will. Thus, one first becomes acquainted with the full power of self-love. This must be overcome. And this is a difficult victory. What one has conquered must be eradicated.

[ 16 ] The path to self-knowledge for human beings leads to a point where forces—which are otherwise known only as inner forces—act with the power of a natural phenomenon. The inner forces of the soul act like the elements of nature. One faces oneself as if facing a kind of nature. Then a certain experience occurs, which is called the “encounter with the Guardian of the Threshold.” It can take a hundred different forms. Only one type will be described here: One feels something new, as if a bolt of lightning were passing through one’s body or as if one were physically dissolved and yet still remained. One feels powerless to control one’s body. This is a very important moment. One has the feeling as if one’s hands were chained and the brain were something over which one has no control, something that acts as a psychological obstacle. To endure this moment, one must prepare oneself. This preparation consists of steel one’s courage. One must experience this moment without fear.

[ 17 ] This is followed by various other experiences, all of which lead to an understanding of what it means to face what one has always called one’s own—one’s body, one’s ordinary mental faculties—as if it were a thing. Only now does one recognize the significance of self-love and the fact that it can be overcome; and because, for ordinary experience, this moment cannot be endured without the appropriate preparation, this experience is called the encounter with the Guardian of the Threshold, for good spirits stand before us, as it were, and protect us from this experience.

[ 18 ] The fact that one goes through such experiences is what fosters certain strict moral impulses. This leads one to the maturity to base spiritual scientific insights solely on the health of the soul. In light of what the spiritual researcher must go through before approaching the spiritual world, the objection that the spiritual researcher is succumbing to delusion is childish. He knows delusional experiences and visions through and through. He knows how he has banished them from his soul. When he can eradicate the results of self-love, when he has surrendered everything to the entire fabric of the universe, then a new world appears before him, completely objective; and it is, in itself, as filled with individual existence as the outer physical world is filled with individual existence.

[ 19 ] Today, our era already exhibits a strong tendency toward the acceptance of the supernatural, and one can observe how this tendency is coming to the fore. I would like to point out just one notable fact. Charles Eliot, president of Harvard University in the United States, gave a lecture in 1909 in which he spoke of a kind of future religion that acknowledges the supernatural on a scientific basis, and said: “People have always recognized an absolute spiritual being that is not subject to external physical laws.”—Time and again we find such references among countless scholars. But such people are content to stop at merely pointing this out. They say: “There is a soul, a soul, a soul!” Yes, that is just like saying, when referring to the most diverse plants and animals: “That is nature, nature, nature!” But when the spiritual researcher steps forward and recounts details of the spiritual world, then people become uncomfortable. It is not enough to point out that there is spirit, that there is a soul. But when one speaks of the spiritual worlds—that there are beings and events within them—people become uncomfortable and say that these must be figments of the imagination. The fact that all of this appears to the spiritual researcher cannot be dismissed as an illusion. For the spiritual researcher has undergone the experiences that enable him to distinguish between them.

[ 20 ] It is exactly the same in the natural sciences; one must experience these things for oneself. If no human being has ever seen a whale, then zoology cannot prove that whales exist. This refutes many objections. Schopenhauer characterized part of his system by saying: “The world is my idea.” —This asserts that perceptions cannot be separated from representations. But there is a simple, if trivial, counterexample. If we imagine holding a piece of iron at 900 degrees Celsius up to our face, we can certainly imagine the resulting pain in our minds, but an imagined hot iron does not burn; a real one, however, does. There is, therefore, a proof provided by life itself. And so it is with spiritual life; it need only be lived to the full.

[ 21 ] Someone has objected that when one is very thirsty, it is quite possible to imagine the taste and refreshing effect of a lemonade. Yes—but one cannot quench one’s thirst with this imagination alone. One must not merely resort to logical games. The researcher of the spirit must have reached the point where he can distinguish between reality and fantasy, just as one must distinguish between reality and imagination in the physical world.

[ 22 ] Thus, the human being enters the world in which he finds himself every night when he has stepped out of his physical body—a world in which he is also in the spiritual-soul realm, except that he then possesses no inner activity. Through the exercises described above, the spiritual-soul aspect becomes so strong that it experiences itself and, with it, its surroundings.

[ 23 ] Now one begins to understand that what underlies the human being as a spiritual entity is something quite real. Once one has seen how one can be separated from the body, how one has no power over this body and yet retains consciousness, one comes to understand something else. One realizes that this embryonic entity is, after all, something that plays a part in the development of the body. One then views human life, quite correctly from a scientific perspective, in the same way one observes a plant growing. If a [living being] were born with the roots of a plant and were to die with its flowering, it would have no idea that the seed forming within the flower begins a new process, and that one must conceive of the entire plant condensed within the seed. Once one has recognized the inner nature of the human being, one understands Goethe’s saying: “In old age, one becomes a mystic.” – The rich inner life of the soul is like the seed of a plant.

[ 24 ] Now we observe a person entering into existence through birth, seeing how their abilities develop; and when we look at a person as they approach death, we see how they have stored up inner forces that they can no longer express through the physical body. Thus, through the gateway of death, the inner being enters the spiritual world; and when we see a human being being born, we see them emerging once more from the spiritual world and drawing into the inheritance from father and mother. When we say that all characteristics are inherited from father and mother, this is like the old natural science that believed that even fish could form from mud. It was Francesco Redi who first stated that life can only arise from life. The spiritual researcher knows the human spiritual core. If one were to claim that everything originates from the father and mother, one must reply: That is an inaccurate observation. One must say: What comes from earlier incarnations enters and draws to itself that which originates from the father and mother. Everything spiritual and soul-related traces back to a previous spiritual and soul-related existence. This means we come to the repeated earthly lives. We have already lived through many lives. All of this has a beginning and an end. We bring with us the inner powers we have acquired in this life, so that we also work on the development of our physical body. This can already be seen externally. Consider the brain at birth and how it then develops plastically. This is where the individuality emerges. What we find within ourselves when we become spiritual researchers is precisely what we have acquired in this life. Hence the profound shock for a spiritual researcher, because he cannot change anything that stems from past lives. Here the mystery of death and destiny confronts us in a special way. If we suffer in a present life, we have brought it upon ourselves in a past life. That might seem cruel. But let us suppose that someone, at the age of eighteen, has to experience his father losing his entire fortune; now he must learn a lesson, which is very unpleasant, and he may find it extremely distressing. But at the age of fifty, he will view it quite differently. Thus, a person is not always in a position to judge a misfortune while he is still in the midst of it. When we find ourselves in distress and misery, we must tell ourselves: It is at the same time a condition for our development. It is only an illusion to believe that this insight is cruel.

[ 25 ] What is called immortality—how does it present itself to us now? Not as in many philosophies, where one envisions an infinite timeline and speculates on how human existence might endure. No, we acquire something that is concentrated within human life itself; the life of the soul contracts, we carry the core of our spirit through the gate of death into the spiritual world, and—connected to the body—our destiny leads it into a next life, which we then use once again to enrich our inner being. On the whole, human life is, after all, an ascending process. The entire human life is composed of the life between birth and death and what remains between death and a new birth. Immortality as a whole is composed of what life itself produces. We come to know life as the builder of a new life, just as a plant contains within its seed the guarantee that a new plant will arise. This is an entirely scientific perspective.

[ 26 ] Of course, it is understandable that there are many prejudices against this, but Francesco Redi experienced the same thing. People wanted to burn him at the stake. That is the fate of the truth. Today, people are no longer burned at the stake; instead, they are declared fools. Fashions change, but the essence remains the same. Later, these “fantasy theories” will become self-evident. This is how it will be with the truth: the spiritual-psychic can only come from the spiritual-psychic. Anyone familiar with the state of research into the spiritual world will understand that these prejudices are inevitable. At first, people believe that the natural sciences are in danger. The following example serves to illustrate this. We see a person; two others stand before him and ask: Why is this person alive?—One says: Inside he has a lung, outside there is air; that is why he is alive; this is a scientific fact.—There is no objection to that. The other says: That is not the only reason. He had fallen into the water fourteen days ago, and I pulled him out—that is the reason why he is alive.

[ 27 ] Thus, spiritual science does not deny any observed scientific facts; it does not argue against theories of heredity, so long as they do not contradict themselves. But alongside heredity, there is the law of destiny.

[ 28 ] The natural sciences are fully recognized by the humanities. The misunderstanding arises solely because the natural sciences often overstep their boundaries and seek to establish a kind of humanities of their own. Many say that one must stick to what the eyes perceive; only that, they argue, can natural science rely on. In response, one might ask whether Copernicus made new astronomical observations.

[ 29 ] No, he rethought what people had previously believed based on sensory perception. Copernicus had the courage and the inner strength to reinterpret what was perceptible to the senses. This gave rise to a new astronomy that did not arise from sensory perception. Giordano Bruno, too, broke through sensory perception by not viewing the sky as a boundary. Just as the blue vault of the sky arises from the limitations of human perception, so too does the firmament of the soul’s life arise between birth and death. From the perspective of spiritual science, we stand in the footsteps of Giordano Bruno. Birth and death—spiritual science breaks through these boundaries. Just as Giordano Bruno transcended spatial boundaries, so spiritual science transcends temporal boundaries. Galileo took a friend—who was a follower of Aristotle and had mistakenly inferred from Aristotle’s writings that the nerves originated in the heart—to a cadaver to show him that the nerves originate in the brain. Then the friend said: “Yes, it looks that way, but Aristotle says otherwise, and I believe him more.”—Today people come and say: “It may sound plausible, but Haeckel says otherwise.” – Here, then, Schopenhauer’s maxim applies: “Truth has always had to suffer from the fact that, when it enters into existence, it appears paradoxical, for it cannot, after all, take its seat on the throne of widespread error.” Thus it looks up to its guardian angel, Time, whose wingbeats, however, are so slow that whoever has recognized the truth often dies before it is realized. We must realize that the objection—that only the spiritual researcher can know anything about the spiritual world—is unfounded. To discover the truths, one must go through all of this, but spiritual research relates to spiritual science in the same way that what a painter must learn relates to his painting. From the painting, we can discern something. What the spiritual researcher has discovered can be understood if one approaches what he has to say with common sense. Then these are indeed truths that give us joy in life, lift us above helplessness, and give us a sense of security.

[ 30 ] It is not by looking into the spiritual worlds that one benefits, but by translating [what one has seen] into ideas [and concepts] that anyone else can also grasp. The results obtained by the spiritual researcher are no different from those of the reader or listener. In this way, we find answers not only to scientific questions but also to life’s mysteries.

[ 31 ] If we could structure human education in such a way that people would grow up with these questions from a young age, then something like a predisposition, a seed, or a core would develop within our souls—one that would guarantee a future life. The forces of life grow ever stronger, and when external forces decline, we feel the inner ones intensify. The seed of a plant could not feel any differently toward withered leaves than the spiritual being who, with its power, passes through the gate of death. This provides answers to life, not just to science. These answers lead us to comfort in the most difficult situations of life. One need not be a spiritual researcher for this. Just as one can taste food without being a chemist, so too does not everyone need to be a spiritual researcher. There need only be a few. This becomes such a firm conviction in the soul that one learns to deal with hostility toward it, just as Goethe said regarding a philosophical consideration, regarding those who deny the movement. Goethe responded out of common sense. Philosophically speaking, this view is not at all easy to refute.

You may spot something hostile
Stay calm, remain silent;
And if they deny you the freedom to move,
Go right under their noses.

[ 32 ] One may certainly use humor in the face of hostility and opposition; but one must not merely believe, but know, what the truth is. In this way, spiritual science will find its place in life, and those who feel the inner strength of the soul as it integrates into life will experience something similar to what Goethe felt toward the deniers of the movement. Thus, we can summarize everything that has emerged from our present-day reflection into a single sentiment toward those who still present themselves as opponents of spiritual science:

Hostile things may happen,
Stay calm, stay cheerful;
And if they deny your spirit,
Don't dwell on it.
Yes, in the end, even agree with them;
Their spirit is in a bad way!