The Rudolf Steiner Archive

9. The Spiritual and the Natural Sciences in Relation to the Mysteries of Life

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! When we speak of “spiritual science” in the sense intended here, we are by no means referring to something that is widely popular or recognized in broader circles, and that is entirely understandable. If there were anything in this field that might surprise a representative of spiritual science, one would have to say that it would be more surprising if this spiritual science were to find general acceptance today than if it were to provoke opposition in the widest circles everywhere and were often regarded as something arising from a fanciful way of thinking, from daydreaming. This is understandable because the strength of our time—and everything that has led to this strength—is by no means based on the foundations upon which spiritual science must be built.

[ 2 ] The triumphs that humanity has achieved over the course of the last few centuries—and especially the last century—lie in the realm of the natural sciences and their discoveries. And just as an individual, when he must devote himself entirely to a single activity, often has to divert his attention from everything else and concentrate entirely on that which this activity is intended to serve, so it is, in a sense, with the genius of humanity as well. This genius of humanity, driven by a historical necessity, has had to devote itself in recent times to external sensory perception, which is bound to the intellect, which in turn depends on the brain. And it had to devote itself entirely to precisely this way of viewing the world; it had to direct its attention entirely toward it. And so it has come to pass that, gradually, habits of thought have developed from this field of activity that are initially unsympathetic to all that is brought to light by research findings from the realm of spiritual life.

[ 3 ] One cannot simply criticize this fact in a disparaging manner; one must understand it. One must understand that it is understandable when, regarding the kind of thinking that is common today, only disparaging remarks are made by those who are not closely involved with the subject—regardless of which side these remarks come from. Spiritual science, after all, has nothing to do with the fields that are the primary focus of scientific knowledge in our time. And spiritual science differs from this scientific mode of thinking not only in what is observed, but also, and in particular, in the entire manner in which it is observed. And it is precisely this manner that is actually quite offensive and quite unappealing to our contemporaries.

[ 4 ] Natural science, which is fully recognized by spiritual science and which has led to the great triumphs of our era, must concern itself with what approaches human beings from the outside, and it must, in turn, consider this from its external aspect. Precisely because of this strength—for certain reasons that will become apparent to us this evening—it is not possible for natural science to truly penetrate into the inner nature of things. Spiritual science, by virtue of its very task and its very nature, must penetrate into the inner nature of things. And if one wishes to recall Goethe’s words on knowledge—which in turn tie in with the words of the great naturalist Haller—one could say that Goethe’s words actually lead us from the external observation of nature to the inner, Goethean mode of observation. The naturalist Haller had said:

No creative spirit penetrates the depths of nature; Blessed is he to whom she reveals only her outer shell.

[ 5 ] And Goethe, who also approached the observation of nature entirely from a spiritual perspective and was thoroughly imbued with the spiritual, replied:

I’ve heard this repeated for sixty years, I curse it, but only in secret; Tell me a thousand thousand times: She gives everything generously and gladly; Nature has neither core nor shell, She is everything all at once. Just examine yourself above all else, To see if you are core or shell.

[ 6 ] Goethe certainly had every right to speak in this way. But it must be said that, at the same time, he shifted his focus from an external contemplation of nature to a contemplation of the spirit. And when he says:

Place by place, we are within,

[ 7 ] So we can say this: We are only within nature when we are able to recognize, behind all that is physical, the creative spirit that lies hidden at its core. Then we stand within nature. The only question then is: How, in the sense of spiritual science, should we conceive of this penetration into the innermost being of nature?

[ 8 ] With the kind of knowledge we use to observe things in everyday life—and which forms the basis for everyday actions, even those relevant to science—we cannot penetrate to the spiritual inner nature of things. Therefore, we must say that this kind of knowledge belongs to the external observation of nature.

[ 9 ] Spiritual contemplation requires self-education of the soul—a process of guiding the soul toward a different kind of knowledge and a completely different state of the soul or consciousness. The soul must transform itself into something different from what it is in ordinary life and in ordinary science if it wishes to explore the spiritual foundations. What development, what self-education must the soul undergo if it wishes to acquire those powers that are not present in ordinary life and in ordinary science, and with which one penetrates into the innermost essence of things?

[ 10 ] In order for us to understand one another, I must ask you to join me in a kind of comparative analysis—which is by no means intended as a comparison, but which actually leads us into the very heart of our entire way of thinking, as it is to be developed.

[ 11 ] Let us begin with a major natural change that we experience every year—the great natural transition from summer to winter. With the arrival of spring, we see blooming growth sprouting from the earth, gradually unfolding into greenery, into the most diverse array of colors during the summer, and into the ripening of fruit as fall approaches, when the blooming and fruiting plants begin to wither again until they die off as winter approaches. We see how, in winter, everything that delights our eyes and gladdens our hearts in summer rests in the dark bosom of the earth—when we turn our gaze to what the earth brings forth in spring and allows to flourish in summer. We see the sprouting life welling up from the earth in summer. But we do not merely see it welling up as if the earth were simply driving it forth through the forces within the earth; rather, we know that plants grow toward the light, deriving their growth from the forces of light. And we know full well that without sunlight—without the forces flowing into the plant from outside—the earth could not bring forth these plants. We perceive the Earth in relation to this cosmic environment when we see plants sprouting in the spring. In the fall, the forces that draw the plants forth withdraw; they become inactive. And we see these cosmic forces, as it were, cut off from the patch of earth where winter reigns; we then see the Earth left to its own devices.

[ 12 ] Let us now suppose that a human being were organized in such a way that, at the very moment when sprouting life wells up from the earth in spring, he would be rendered unconscious by some force, and that in this state—a sort of sleep—he would pass through spring and summer, only to awaken again in the fall and experience only what autumn and winter have to offer. Let us suppose that this could somehow happen, and let us suppose that the Earth were inhabited only by beings who see the Earth solely in its lifeless state; they would see the Earth only when it harbors the seeds of plants within it; and what lies on the outside would, at most, be reminiscent—in the evergreen plants—of the fact that there is also a spring and a summer. Such beings would believe that the Earth is something entirely different for humans than it actually is. They would see it only from its winter side and would regard the Earth as that which produces the inanimate and desolate. Just imagine what the image of the Earth would be like for such beings.

[ 13 ] If we expand this image even further, we could say that such beings would wander around the Earth, spending the winter on one half of the Earth and then on the other half, so that they would never experience summer. Then they would not need to sleep. Then they might perhaps always keep their gaze turned away from what life is. They would come to know the Earth only in a state of death. We turn our gaze to what would be hidden from such beings. Everything that reveals itself to human beings in the summertime—everything that makes the Earth a source of living existence—would be a hidden world to such beings.

[ 14 ] Well, not in relation to the Earth, but in relation to something else—this phenomenon on Earth that has been discussed here does exist, and indeed, it exists within human beings themselves. The field of observation, however, is not the Earth, but rather human beings. Self-knowledge for ordinary life is, in a certain sense, of the same nature as knowledge of the Earth would be for a being such as has just been described. Why?

[ 15 ] When we observe human beings in their everyday lives, we see that this everyday life alternates between a state of sleep and a state of wakefulness. And if we observe human beings—even from a scientific perspective, since the natural sciences are now beginning to recognize this externally as well—we observe how they present themselves to us in sleep. All the experiences that have been ebbing and flowing within us, from waking to falling asleep—instincts, passions, ideals, feelings—all of that falls silent. And let us then observe what is outwardly visible in the sleeping person. What do we see before us? A being that lives—certainly; it lives in sleep, but we have before us a being that we can well compare to a plant. We have before us a being that possesses the full value of a plant. And of such a being, which possesses the full value of a plant, we must say that it sustains itself in a manner similar to that of the Earth’s plant cover. Just as we can only understand the Earth’s vegetation, as it sprouts and grows, in the light of the world forces, the cosmic forces, so too can we only understand this sleeping human body if we imagine it as a plant being. If one wants to imagine that life sprouts and flourishes within the human being, one usually adopts a completely wrong point of view when discussing these matters: one typically compares the waking life of the human being from morning to evening with the sprouting plant life from spring to fall. But it corresponds to reality to imagine that, in sleep, the human being transitions into a kind of plant-like state; that is to say, when falling asleep, spring arrives for the human being, and the further into the night we go, the more the human being enters summer. As waking approaches, it is autumn within the human being, and from waking until falling asleep—that is, during waking daily life—we have winter within the human being. As I said, even the natural sciences have now come to verify this. We have “winter” in the waking human being because daily life has a destructive and killing effect—just as winter does for the earth—and must be restored at night through everything that is sprouting and budding life. Just as winter sweeps desolately across the earth, so does waking daily life sweep scorching and paralyzing over life; and during the soul’s summertime, when the human being is in a plant-like state, what is brought about within them is akin to the sprouting, budding life of the earth’s plants in summertime.

[ 16 ] We can therefore say: What a person unfolds in their waking state relates to their entire being in the same way that the cosmic forces acting upon the Earth do so during the winter season. From this alone we can understand what our waking life of imagination actually is—from the moment we wake up until we fall asleep—and what this life is that unfolds in our waking life of imagination, in our sensations, feelings, and so on. It is like life on Earth during the winter season. Waking life is the winter of the soul. This is the true view of the human being.

[ 17 ] And now let’s return to our first idea. Human beings go through a “summer of the soul,” and at the very moment they enter this time—when something within them unfolds like the sprouting, budding life of plants—they fall into unconsciousness—just as a being that were to fall asleep in spring would never be able to see plant growth and would face a hidden world during the summer. And just as the cosmic, world forces do not intervene in earthly life during winter—just as they are not suited in winter to bring forth what is revealed in plant growth—so too are the human being’s winter forces—his thoughts, his feelings, his conscious life—incapable of creating a “summer” within him.

[ 18 ] The question that must now follow is this: Is there something hidden in this “summer of the soul” of human beings that could be compared to what remains hidden from our hypothetical beings, who, because of their state of sleep, cannot perceive what first becomes apparent in the growth of the Earth’s plants? This question can only be answered if it is possible to transform the unconsciousness into which the human being has fallen during the soul’s summer into consciousness, that is, if it is possible to bring about a state within the human being through which he can perceive in such a way that the soul’s summer unfolds before him with all its beings—in other words, if the soul’s summer can be made conscious. Is this possible?—And another question: Do we have a right to assume that, when a person becomes conscious of the soul’s summertime, something will be revealed to them from the hidden realm—something that is not merely comparable to what is revealed in the Earth’s vegetation, but which can rightly be called a higher world, distinct from that of ordinary life? That we may assume such a thing is evident from the following consideration.

[ 19 ] When we look at the world, we find that it unfolds in the various kingdoms of nature, and that human beings are placed within these kingdoms. It is truly no arrogance for human beings to assume that certain higher forces are necessary for their creation—forces higher than those that unfold in the other kingdoms of nature—nor is it arrogant to recognize that when we wear down our forces during the day and they are restored at night, during the soul’s summer, it becomes evident what these higher forces are like in rebuilding the human being. Admittedly, we cannot immediately perceive from what happens at night what the totality of the human formative forces is like. But as we expend human life forces during the day and restore them at night, we do find in this process restorative forces that are simply hidden from observation. Thus, we must assume that these formative forces—the vitalizing forces of the human being—reveal themselves when we are able to consciously enter the soul’s summertime. And anyone who wishes to become a researcher in the field of spiritual life must consciously enter the soul’s summertime.

[ 20 ] What are these images, ideas, and concepts that the spiritual researcher experiences while awake? Well, they are those inner essences of the human being that are present during the soul’s summer. And again, this is not a mere comparison, but reality: During the soul’s summer, when everything within him blossoms, he possesses something that relates to his being in the same way that the seeds resting in the earth’s bosom during winter relate to the fully developed plants of summer. If we can take what, in waking life, are, as it were, the formative winter seeds within us—and bring them to sprout, to develop, and to come to life—then we are in reality doing the very same thing that happens with the earth as it brings life and the seeds to development toward spring.

[ 21 ] So whoever consciously wishes to enter the soul’s summertime must develop all that lies dormant within the human being—like the earth lying fallow in winter—thoughts, sensations, feelings—into a living, vibrant existence, just as the seeds of the earth’s vegetation unfold in spring and summer. What is now presented as a challenge can indeed be achieved. We can truly regard our thoughts—as we consciously experience them—as the seeds that have survived the winter of the soul, and we can take action to awaken these seeds to life. And this is achieved through what is known in spiritual science as concentration, contemplation, and meditation.

[ 22 ] First, the spiritual researcher takes as his starting point the feelings and sensations he has experienced in ordinary life—that is, during the soul’s winter—which lie dormant during this time like seeds that reveal nothing of what they are capable of unfolding into. The person who wishes to become a spiritual researcher must awaken these “winter seeds” of their soul life to a more vibrant existence than they have in ordinary life. This is achieved through meditation, concentration, and contemplation. One then makes a very special discovery when one uses concepts, sensations, and feelings not merely to reflect an external existence, but so that they live within our soul—and indeed, so that we live with our soul within them, becoming completely absorbed in them.

[ 23 ] And in order to develop this power to its fullest, let us take a simple image. The content of this image is not what matters. While our thoughts in ordinary everyday life move from one image to the next—merely skimming over them—the spiritual researcher concentrates his entire soul life on a single image, on a single sensation, resting upon it through an impulse of will for a certain period of time. This requires a certain detachment from external sensory impressions, as well as from what our soul otherwise thinks and imagines—what it remembers, such as worries and the like. Through the strong development of the will, a person must arrive at a state that is very similar to falling asleep, yet radically different from it. The state must be such that one no longer makes use of one’s limbs, that one allows the body to rest as in sleep, that one does not perceive through the senses, that one allows the intellect—which is silent during sleep—to sleep, and that one accomplishes only this one thing through a strong act of will: to surrender oneself to this otherwise silent and resting consciousness—to an idea that has just been brought into consciousness by an act of will—and to rest upon it for a while, experiencing it inwardly and completely. Without asking what it means, one must pay attention only to what effect it has on the soul, what power it possesses; one must concentrate solely on this idea.

[ 24 ] What is described here in principle constitutes the content of a science. You will find more details on this in my books *How Does One Gain Insight into the Higher Worlds?* and *An Outline of Esoteric Science*. Here, these matters can only be touched upon in principle. What matters is that the soul devotes itself to a single mental image—but for a certain period of time. It need not be a long time, but one must immerse oneself deeply in the image. One must become one with the image, concentrating entirely on it. However, it is not enough to do this just a few times; such exercises must be continued for a long time—even for years, depending on the individual’s aptitude. Then, when the soul—which, after all, does not need to devote much time to it each individual time—devotes itself to such exercises again and again, one discovers that the feelings, thoughts, and ideas present in our soul in ordinary life are truly like seeds that can unfold, giving rise to something new, something special. And through such an inner life, brought about by rigorous self-discipline, one comes to gradually shape one’s ideas and feelings in such a way that one can realize an inner world that is not, like our ordinary world of imagination, bound to the external senses, but is conjured forth as seeds that survive the winter of the soul. And we then experience the dawn of the soul’s spring, the soul’s summer. The spiritual researcher must consciously experience this. He must experience how, withdrawn from the outer world, he awakens within himself a springtime of the soul, a summertime of the soul; how he places another world within the world he otherwise inhabits—the wintertime of the soul. Then a new world truly opens up to the human being—a world he did not know before.

[ 25 ] Only one thing is necessary: that he learn to relate to this world, which is now opening up to him, in the same way he relates to the world of the winter of the soul.

[ 26 ] I said that this inner world opens up into the soul’s summertime. But at first, this world that is opening up bears a certain outward resemblance to another world that we encounter, much to our dismay, and that arises from pathological states of the soul. The resemblance is only superficial, for what has just been described is radically different from what arises from pathological states—such as hallucinations, delusions, and the like—because it can arise only from a healthy soul life. They are similar to one another only superficially, in that both arise from the soul.

[ 27 ] However, these phenomena, which arise from pathological conditions, have a certain peculiarity that we often have cause to lament. They have an overwhelming, even beguiling effect on human life. For what the soul experiences as a hallucination, it does not regard as a reflection of its own nature, but rather as an objectively real world. And that is a grave mistake! We know how powerful the effects of this mistake can be. Anyone who lives with such people knows that you can never talk them out of their hallucinations. This is because, the moment a person steps beyond normal soul life—the moment they transcend the “soul’s winter” to which they are otherwise accustomed—something that is otherwise present within them emerges with great force from that winter. We return once more to our comparison, which is, however, more than just a comparison.

[ 28 ] When a person senses the approach of spring and summer, and if he is attuned to the revelations of nature, then his heart longs to rejoice; his heart is drawn to this burgeoning life; he is devoted to it. Our devotion to what we encounter deepens as we transition from the snow-covered earth to the burgeoning life of spring and summer. But it is the same when we encounter what rises within the soul from within itself—a world that is not the ordinary world of the soul’s winter. When visions and hallucinations—which are absent in ordinary life, in the winter of the soul—arise on the horizon of a sick soul life, the soul initially feels drawn to and devoted to what emerges there like a new world. And yet this is nothing other than the outpouring of the soul itself. When, as spring and summer approach, a person loves the outward bustle, the sprouting and budding, they are loving themselves in what emerges from their own soul. That is the secret. Out of this life sprouting from within, a person’s own life—otherwise hidden from them—looks back at them. They therefore cling to these phenomena and cannot tear themselves away from them.

[ 29 ] It is only in this realm that one realizes how deeply self-loving, how deeply egotistical, human beings are. And one can understand this when one knows that [in his visions] a person confronts himself. He would, so to speak, have to annihilate himself if he did not believe in his visions. It is this heightened self-love, which acts like a force of nature, that causes the visionary to believe so strongly in his visions.

[ 30 ] What matters is not that the person who becomes a spiritual researcher merely evokes new feelings from those that have survived the winter of the soul, but that he or she undergoes a process of cultivating the will. For what the sick soul never tells itself—what the soul tells itself only when it is healthy again—the spiritual researcher must tell himself immediately when the world just described, which fills the soul’s summertime, appears before him. He must overcome the awakened self-impulse that has grown too strong. This must be eradicated not only in thought, but it must be eradicated through a strong will that the spiritual researcher cultivates through training. Only when he succeeds in this is he properly prepared for spiritual science.

[ 31 ] What would a person be like who, as a spiritual researcher, could not—through inner willpower—eradicate what is spreading there? Such a person would be, in the realm of the spirit, like a person in the realm of the sensory world who stands before an object, looks at it, but could never look away again, as if bound to that object. Such would be a spiritual researcher who were to allow what arises from the “summertime” of his soul to remain. He must be able to erase every single image that arises. And proper training leads precisely to what can be cultivated only in a completely healthy soul: the free ability to erase everything that arises. Just as we would never truly engage with the plant world if we could not freely direct our gaze from one point to another, so too would we never gain access to a spiritual world if we could not turn away from what has just been described. This is a necessary quality of the genuine spiritual researcher: he must have overcome selfishness through self-discipline to such an extent that he is able, with strong inner power—for such power is necessary—to erase the world he has conjured up at any time. Because it is his own inner world, this means erasing himself.

[ 32 ] Self-conquest is what must be regarded as the first stage on the path to entering the spiritual world.

[ 33 ] When this has occurred—and it is a profound experience when the human soul has reached the point of being able to erase what it has brought forth—when this has occurred, then the spiritual researcher experiences what can be called an objective spiritual world. Then, in the spiritual field that has been freed through this erasure, the objective spiritual world emerges. Here lies the abyss that the soul must cross when it enters the spiritual world. And once the soul has crossed this abyss, once it has overcome self-love, then the world that meets it can also offer it something.

[ 34 ] One might say, if one has only materialistic ideas and no ability to engage with what spiritual research has to offer: How do you distinguish what arises in the soul from external reality?

[ 35 ] Only life itself decides such matters, just as in external life it is life itself that decides whether something is perception or representation. One can distinguish between the two. I have always held Schopenhauer in the highest regard; indeed, I myself wrote an introduction to the edition of his works. But when Schopenhauer says that the world is merely our idea, this can easily be refuted by something that, while it may sound trivial, is in fact a complete refutation. If you have a piece of red-hot iron lying in front of you, you might say: “That is merely my idea.” But when you touch it, you realize very clearly whether it is merely an idea or a reality. There is no logical proof for what has just been said; there is only life itself, which is the ultimate arbiter. And spiritual science leads us to make a clear distinction, in the spiritual realm, between perception and imagination—that is, between reality and fantasy. We need only take life in its full reality and not stop at a partial experience. We see how spiritual science differs from natural science. Natural science remains confined to the powers of cognition that a person brings into life and develops within it. Spiritual science achieves its results only when a person further develops their soul, when they pass through the stage described—that is, when they bring their soul to a state of development comparable to that of a child in their third or fourth year of life, when the child awakens to self-consciousness. Everyone is familiar with this awakening, when a child’s consciousness becomes self-consciousness. On a higher level, something similar occurs in the spiritual researcher: he awakens to a higher spiritual life, in comparison to which even ordinary waking consciousness is a kind of sleep state.

[ 36 ] The soul must experience a second awakening in order to enter a new world. When a person truly explores the spiritual realm, he is in the same state as a sleeping person, yet he is nevertheless in a completely opposite condition. The sleeper allows his body to rest completely. He does not allow sensory impressions to enter him; he does not allow sensory reality to take effect. In reality, the one who explores the spiritual realm is in the same state, except that what is unconscious in the sleeper is conscious in him, and he perceives the spiritual world.

[ 37 ] When a person perceives and comes to know the spiritual world in this way, they do not merely come to know the spiritual in general, but they also come to know individual facts and individual beings. That is, after all, what people today are least willing to forgive—that one speaks not only of the soul and the spirit, but of individual beings. Materialism is on the wane today, and people already admit that one speaks of spirit and soul. They already allow one to speak of individual phenomena in nature and not just say “nature, nature, nature.” But when it comes to the spiritual realm, people still do not allow spiritual science to speak of individual beings and not just say “spirit, spirit” and “soul, soul.” The spiritual researcher penetrates into a concretely formed spiritual world filled with beings—that is, into a world that is added to the outer sensory world as a new world. And there he experiences, there he sees the formative forces of the outer world; he sees that which underlies the outer world as its spiritual essence. He truly penetrates into the innermost being of nature—but first into his own inner being. For he is, after all, immediately present within his own inner being.

[ 38 ] I have pointed out how the spiritual researcher must come to erase what he himself has conjured up into the summertime of his soul. He can erase it—or rather, he can erase himself—in the world that has been reborn for him. But there is one thing he cannot erase. A remnant always remains. And when the spiritual researcher becomes attuned to this remnant, he learns to recognize it according to its inner essence. And that is the deeper, spiritual-soul essence—the very core of his being. When he goes through the processes described and thereby arrives at a genuine self-knowledge, he comes to know the core of his soul much like someone who digs through muddy street sediment and finds within it the embryo of a lower animal. When the lower animal then emerges, the person in question knows that the lower animal arose from that embryo. The animal germ must have been there first; it drew the matter to itself, but the lower animal would never have come into being if a germ had not been present.

[ 39 ] Thus, with what he has come to recognize within himself—through spiritual research—as the seed or core of the spiritual-soul aspect, the human being now looks once more into the objective world. They see, for example, the following: They see how a human being, in a mysterious and wondrous way, develops further and further from the very first hour of their existence. The child’s initially indistinct facial features become more and more defined. Science knows how the brain becomes increasingly malleable. Year by year, the human body takes on more and more form. Then the person looks at their father and mother, grandparents, great-grandparents, and so on, and says to themselves: the characteristics that emerge here, I find them in my parents, grandparents, and so on, but what underlies these characteristics is the spiritual-soul core that has been discovered through spiritual science. And here spiritual science has reached a point where it must accomplish for the present day something similar to what natural science achieved in the 17th century, when Francesco Redi, a great natural scientist, said: Life cannot arise from the non-living—only from the living can the living arise. —Redi was persecuted as a heretic. Spiritual science today finds itself once again in a situation similar to that of Francesco Redi. Today, the spiritual scientist is compelled to say: The knowledge of this spiritual-soul core of the human being shows that it originates from a spiritual existence that the human being underwent before birth, and that prior to this spiritual existence, the human being passed through earlier earthly lives. Today, people no longer say this is heresy; instead, they say it is madness. Even today, attempts are made to neutralize people who speak of such things. They are not burned at the stake—manners have become somewhat milder, and people even speak of tolerance—but essentially, a different method is used today to achieve the same end. In the 17th century, what Francesco Redi proposed was considered heresy; today it is recognized as a scientific fact. And so it is still considered a flight of fancy today when spiritual science must speak of the fact that the spiritual-soul core of the human being does not trace back to the physical line of inheritance, but rather to a spiritual-soul experience in earlier earthly lives. And this earthly life in which we now live is the beginning and the seed for a new earthly life.

[ 40 ] What the spiritual researcher recognizes as a spiritual-soul core—which he cannot eradicate—is entirely different from what is experienced in waking daily life, during the “winter of the soul.” This spiritual-soul core is like the sprouted plant in relation to the plant’s seed. It is the true spiritual-soul reality that creates and weaves within the human being, that receives what is given by father and mother, and works its way outward from within to come into physical existence—just as the seed, left over from a previous being, now unfolds once more into a spiritual-soul being. That which is recognized here as the spiritual-soul core transcends birth and death.

[ 41 ] Here, spiritual research is at a similar point as natural science was in earlier centuries. Copernicus and Giordano Bruno were able to look out into the vastness of the universe and say: Yes, what humanity has believed until now—that the heavens end where the human eye can see—does not correspond to the truth. Giordano Bruno saw the world in a broader light, and he saw that the boundaries are set only by limited human understanding. Through him, the horizon of human understanding of the physical world was expanded. And the spiritual researcher today must accomplish the same thing. He must bring to present-day humanity the realization that human beings originate from previous earthly lives and that they have further earthly lives to live through. Spiritual science expands our vision to a spiritual-soul-filled infinity. And just as Giordano Bruno found countless worlds embedded in the vastness of space, so must the spiritual researcher expand the concept of time that pertains to the human being, within which the human being unfolds his spiritual and soul core across many lives, both past and future.

[ 42 ] Thus, spiritual science today stands alongside natural science, not contradicting it, but fully acknowledging it. Indeed, it is precisely from the same attitude that the natural sciences adopt toward nature that spiritual research seeks to become a science of the spirit. It seeks to penetrate the inner forces of existence just as the natural sciences penetrate the outer forces of existence. And once this spiritual science takes root in the spiritual life of our time, it will become clear how full existence, full reality, can only be grasped by approaching this reality from two sides: on the one hand, through the natural sciences, by observing the world from the outside; on the other hand, through spiritual science, by observing it from the perspective of the spirit—until, coming from both sides, [as in the construction of a tunnel,] drilling in the right direction, meet in the middle. Thus one finds true reality by working together from nature and from the spirit along opposing lines until the two directions converge.

[ 43 ] The natural sciences experienced their dawn when Copernicus introduced his momentous worldview to the world. The spiritual sciences now stand at the same point and face the spirit with the same mindset. When one investigates external life through the natural sciences—when one studies in physics, chemistry, and so on what one encounters in external life, and when one investigates mathematical laws—one reaches a certain point. Precisely those who are able to judge these matters will know that scientific research reaches a certain point in its work—the point that can be described by the word “life.” When the natural scientist examines a plant, he seeks to draw ever closer to what life is. Life is something like the great goal toward which one strives in the natural sciences. To be able to investigate life—that is the great ideal of external natural science. This is how it digs its way into the tunnel.

[ 44 ] When the spiritual researcher allows the seed germs to sprout—germs that endure from the soul’s winter into the soul’s summer—and when he brings this to conscious perception, he sees a world before him. And this world, too, has a specific point that one reaches—a point that one sees, as it were, lying in the distance, just as the natural scientist sees life lying in the distance. And this point, toward which one approaches just as the natural scientist approaches life—this point is death for the spiritual researcher.

[ 45 ] The spiritual researcher must reach a certain level—the level at which he says to himself: To a certain degree, I understand spiritual life; I understand the world that unfolds before me. But then there is something there that one must not touch with this inner experience; rather, one must surrender to it. — Through consciousness and knowledge, one arrives at all manner of beings and facts of the supersensible world, and one sees that death stands at the end. One sees how what is the core of our spiritual-soul being must pass through death, how after death it must pass through the spiritual world in order to live in that spiritual world, and how it must then come to life again in a new life. One sees how life unfolds from one life to the next. The entirety of existence consists of life in the spiritual world between death and a new birth, and life in the physical world between birth and death.

[ 46 ] In spiritual research, one does not master death any more than one masters life in natural science. The understanding of natural science extends as far as life; one approaches death through living, conscious understanding in the spirit; death is the great goal of spiritual science. This is how spiritual science relates to death. This is the other direction; it drills [the tunnel] from the other direction, and the two will certainly meet, for the two must meet.

[ 47 ] Death cannot exist except as a product of life—and vice versa. From both sides, the same goal is pursued. This is a mindset that must take root in modern intellectual life, one in which the natural sciences and the humanities are given equal standing.

[ 48 ] Just as the natural sciences seek to understand the external world, so must the spiritual sciences seek to understand destiny; and they can understand human destiny only by recognizing that the cause for a future earthly life is prepared in this earthly life. Human destiny—happiness and misfortune—thus becomes understandable to us in terms of its causes. Life itself appears to us as a transformation of death. And immortality appears to us in such a way that we know: as we pass into death, we carry the spiritual and soul core of our being into the spiritual world in order to begin anew in a new life.

[ 49 ] It is not an empty infinity that lies before us, but one in which each link is chained to the next, so that we know why human beings must be immortal. Human beings must be immortal because life, from birth to death, carries within its spiritual and soul core the powers to bring forth ever new lives; because we see that in one life the seed for the next life is sown.

[ 50 ] This is how the great mysteries of life are solved through the collaboration of the natural sciences and the humanities. Anyone who believes they must remain confined to the realm of natural science and seeks to build a worldview from that foundation is, in a certain sense, like someone who says: “Yes, the ores, metals, and all these treasures of the earth that lie down there in a mine only appear to me in their true light when I dig a hole and let the sun shine in.” Certainly, all of that is illuminated, but what the sun brings forth, it produces on the surface. The sun can indeed illuminate what lies down there in the earth, but it cannot bring it forth.

[ 51 ] Thus, that which reveals the inner essence of the human being must be removed from the realm of purely external science. Only then can external science come to shed light on it; only then can what the spiritual researcher investigates also be understood by this external science.

[ 52 ] And here we come to a point where an objection must be dispelled. One might say: “Yes, what you’re telling us here suggests that spiritual science is significant only for the spiritual researcher himself.” I must refer here to my book *How Does One Gain Insight into the Higher Worlds?*. In it, you will find a more detailed explanation of the following: Every person today has reached a stage where they can, to a certain degree, become a spiritual researcher. But it is arduous; it can only be achieved with great concentration. But just as ores and metals emerge from the earth and are then illuminated by the sun, so too can what the spiritual researcher has discovered be illuminated by the ordinary human understanding and thereby also be comprehended. It can then provide the soul with what it needs in the face of the mysteries of life that stand before it—what it needs for its security and its stability. Nor does the spiritual researcher possess anything more than what is available to those who listen to him and read his writings.

[ 53 ] The spiritual researcher observes the spiritual world. However, it only becomes a science of the soul when it is expressed in ordinary terms that common sense can understand. And common sense can understand it, just as the sun can illuminate what would otherwise grow in the depths of the earth, deprived of its light. Therefore, it is also a prejudice to say that one cannot understand what spiritual research produces. One can very well comprehend it and examine its results using unbiased, sound common sense. When people believe that natural science refutes spiritual research, they are shooting themselves in the foot.

[ 54 ] When people point to heredity from father, mother, grandparents, and so on, the spiritual researcher will certainly agree with them completely. There is no question at all that they are wrong. But a comparison is intended to make it clear how spiritual research can, in fact, stand alongside natural science. It is like two people, each of whom has something different to say; one does not refute the other—one statement is just as true as the other. When natural science says that a person has such and such characteristics from their ancestors, spiritual science says that this is true. But it is equally true that a person has these characteristics because they laid the groundwork for them in a previous life. The world will come to realize that natural science must see its strength precisely in the fact that it confines itself to its own domains and that it can fully coexist alongside spiritual science, which deals with the spiritual realm into which we are interwoven with soul and body. Just as spectral analysis in physics can demonstrate that the same substances are found here on Earth as in outer space—just as our material perspective has been expanded into the immeasurable vastness of outer space— so we perceive that throughout the vast world of the spirit, spiritual beings and spiritual realities are present everywhere—realities with which the spiritual-soul being of the human being is kindred in essence and from which it is formed. And just as human beings know themselves to be alive within the material substances that fill the entire world, so can they know themselves to be secure in the all-pervading, omnipresent spiritual realm that spiritual science makes known to them. This, however, will bring about the following: just as natural science has transformed our external existence, just as it has accomplished marvelous things, and just as it has bestowed cultural treasures upon humanity, so too will spiritual science bestow upon humanity spiritual treasures that humanity needs more and more each day.

[ 55 ] Once education has been taken up by spiritual science, it will educate people in such a way that they will not only know abstractly that there is a soul core within them that passes through death, but they will transform this knowledge of the spirit into inner strength; they will feel this strength alive within themselves. He will feel, as his hair turns gray, as his skin wrinkles, and as his limbs grow limp, that his spiritual-soul core is developing more and more within him. Just as the seed in a growing plant concentrates itself to become a new plant, so the spiritual-soul core within the human being concentrates itself more and more the closer we come to death. We will feel it growing ever stronger; we will recognize how we develop as human beings, even as our limbs fall away from us, just as the leaves fall from a plant. This knowledge will give human beings security and stability, in good times and in bad. It will fill them inwardly with what they need so that they may have the strength for their work, so that their entire outer life may flourish. Spiritual science is not merely a science; it springs from experience and culminates in experience.

[ 56 ] These are the points one can raise today when seeking to outline, in broad strokes, the contribution that the humanities have to offer and the contribution that the natural sciences have to offer. And today’s presentation will surely have shown how the nature of research in the spiritual realm is indeed different from the nature of research in the realm of external, sensory phenomena. But when one considers that certain habits of thought have developed as a result of long-standing familiarity with natural science—which races from triumph to triumph—it is hardly surprising that the humanities cannot initially count on much sympathy and that objections are raised against what they have to say. One would be surprised if the opposite were the case. It is true that, when it comes to truth, Schopenhauer’s statement applies:

Throughout the centuries, poor Truth has had to blush at the fact that she was paradoxical—and yet it is not her fault. It cannot take on the form of the enthroned universal error. So it looks up with a sigh to its patron god, Time, who beckons with victory and glory, but whose wingbeats are so vast and slow that the individual dies before they arrive.

[ 57 ] But time and its course are such that, no matter how difficult it may be to recognize the truth, no matter how narrow the crevice through which it must squeeze, it struggles and digs its way through. It has always been the case that what was once considered a paradox has later been recognized as truth. And so it will be with spiritual science as well. If opposition—even hostility—arises today, then one should recall Goethe’s words, which so beautifully express the relationship between human beings and truth:

A false doctrine cannot be refuted; for it is based on the conviction that what is false is true. But the opposite can, may, and must be stated repeatedly.

[ 58 ] And so it must be with the truths of spiritual research. The false doctrine that the spirit is merely an appendage of material existence cannot be refuted, for it is based on the conviction that what is false—mere material existence—is true. But the opposite of this is that the spiritual underlies material existence, and that the core of the human being is part of this spiritual realm and participates in its essence. And this is the teaching that is not only more comprehensive than the one-sided doctrine of purely material truth; rather, it is the teaching that, in contrast to this one-sided understanding, represents the truth—true knowledge. And so it will come to pass that those who have recognized this will, in the sense of spiritual science, be able, permitted, and obliged to proclaim this truth again and again in the face of all opposition. Then the genius of truth will reveal its power—time. And even if its wingbeats are still so far apart and so slow, truth will finally prevail. And the wingbeats of the genius of time will spread over the truths recognized by the spirit, over the foundations of the world, and over the mysteries of life.