The Rudolf Steiner Archive

19. On Death

[ 1 ] For a number of years now, I have spoken in this hall about fundamental topics and, in an increasingly systematic manner, about the science of the spirit, and it is for this reason alone that I take the liberty of deliver this lecture this evening—though I must point out that [today’s lecture is, in a certain sense, a risk, and] those [listeners] who have heard little or nothing of the earlier lectures will easily come to the conclusion that everything said [hovers] more or less in the air. I have previously presented, from various angles, the justifications for everything that leads to such insights, and shown how it is entirely possible for human cognition to penetrate to the sources from which today’s lecture has also drawn, so that I do not need to keep repeating the same arguments in support of my points in order to share some insights from the specific research of spiritual science conducted on today’s topic—a topic that is, after all, close to every human soul. The concepts for this are found in other lectures, but by way of introduction I would like to present a few additional points that may serve as a bridge for those who have not yet engaged much with the subjects of spiritual science.

[ 2 ] It has often been emphasized that this [spiritual science] is so very different from external science, even though it can certainly be regarded as a continuation of the achievements of the natural sciences. Spiritual science does not rely on the natural sciences, but on a form of knowledge attained through the developed powers of the soul—powers that initially lie dormant in the soul’s subconscious but can be brought to the surface through meditation and concentration—so that the soul [becomes strengthened to the point where it can attach meaning to the words: I experience myself as a soul outside the body], I feel myself as a spiritual being in such a way that I regard my body as something foreign. This is, therefore, a kind of spiritual chemistry driven by meditation and concentration in the human being and through the human being himself. Through this spiritual chemistry, spiritual life is separated when it is prepared by these exercises of meditation and concentration.

[ 3 ] Through this, a person discovers that a being lives within them who usually uses the senses as tools but can lift themselves out of the body and then find themselves not in the world perceived through the senses, but in a world of spiritual beings and processes. For the aspiring spiritual researcher, the moment is significant when a person reaches the point of truly knowing that they are experiencing themselves in the spiritual world.

[ 4 ] This moment can arise from waking daily life without disrupting it, or occur in the midst of sleep, [but it does not turn into a dream as it emerges from sleep; rather, it becomes a spiritual experience]. However, one experiences this detachment from the body in a deeply unsettling way. What is typical here is that—whether asleep or awake—the moment comes when one feels: Something is happening now that pierces you like an [irresistible], elemental force, much as if you were in a house struck by lightning. You feel the detachment from the body; you feel that you can perceive it outside of yourself [as something foreign]. – This experience is the gateway to spiritual research. Once you have experienced it, you know what is meant when the spiritual researcher [speaks of a higher form of knowledge and] characterizes this higher form of knowledge—this spiritual-research knowledge—by saying: It begins with approaching the very threshold of death, for through this you come to know what it means to live outside the body in the soul. One experiences this event [only figuratively], but in real imagination. One knows what it means to experience death, to stand in the world where the human soul stands when it has actually passed through the gate of death and surrendered the body to the earth, [when] the soul enters the spiritual world.

[ 5 ] There is one essential characteristic here. [I would now like to describe the state of mind that is necessary to properly relate to the facts that arise in this context; for] the state of mind that the spiritual researcher develops is different from that of the scientist when he operates within the modes of thought of ordinary science—or, indeed, in everyday life. There, one has the feeling that one can judge everything. This state of mind ceases as one immerses oneself in spiritual insights. One learns more and more to feel how truth is something that hovers in sublime heights above one, and one always wants to wait for it to draw near. One feels how necessary it is to prepare oneself to bring the soul into the sphere where it matures, so that it may receive—as if by grace—from spiritual worlds that which is called truth in the spiritual realm. A sacred reverence [for the union of the soul with truth] takes hold of the soul. One has the feeling: What if I were to wait a little longer, postponing what I now wish to explore to a later time, when I have made myself more mature? This feeling—that one must first become mature, not judge, but transform oneself in order to reach spheres where truth comes to you—arises quite naturally in spiritual research. Whereas in other fields one seeks to achieve much through what science can provide, in spiritual research one feels the need to work on oneself, to bring oneself into a state where one can overcome that sacred awe.

[ 6 ] This alludes [only in dry, blunt terms] to something that is infinitely sacred and familiar to anyone engaged in spiritual research. Such a person knows the moment when they say to themselves: Yes, there is still something you need to recognize here, but you’d better wait. — One has the feeling of being unworthy of the truth. This peculiar mood of, in a higher sense, being unworthy of the truth—that is something one learns to recognize as permeating one’s being. I mention this, so to speak, to hint at the mood I would like to evoke regarding everything that is to be discussed today.

[ 7 ] [Today I would like to speak about the problem of death in a narrative style, drawing on spiritual research and its sources, while also referring to my writings on “Theosophy” and “The Threshold of the Spiritual World.” The account of the lecture is intended to be presented more or less as a soul that has entered the spiritual worlds through its own powers experiences these events; it is thus presented from a slightly different perspective than in those books.]

[ 8 ] When a person passes through the gate of death—[that is, when his soul has separated from the physical body]—an event occurs that lasts only a short time, [with which the spiritual researcher is familiar through having witnessed the experience of someone who has just died]. Because the spiritual researcher can enter the world into which the deceased enters, these experiences are familiar to him. The entire inner state of the soul then changes. In outer life, within the body, we distinguish between thinking, or imagining, feeling, and willing. After death, these soul activities become something different from what they are in life; [after death, they come to consciousness in a different way than through the words for which our earthly language has coined expressions]. The experience is entirely different from that within the body. One can only attempt to approach with words what is perceived in the spiritual world, [even if it seems awkward and will be unfamiliar in the sense of ordinary language].

[ 9 ] The first thing a person experiences after death is that they experience themselves in their thoughts in such a way that these thoughts begin to lead a life of their own. This is [already somewhat familiar to the spiritual researcher and presents itself to him in a similar way] when he has stepped out of his body. He cannot say, “I am moving my thoughts.” — They become like an inner, independent entity. Instead of feeling at one with our thoughts [within the body], they step out into the surroundings, as it were, and become an external world. Just as we perceived the objects and events around us before death, so do we perceive our thoughts after death, so that it appears like a tableau of memories from our past life.

[ 10 ] Anyone who looks at life with an open mind knows that between birth and death, they accumulate an inner wealth of life. We can grasp only a part of what has enriched us in such a way that we know we are present in those thoughts. What we have achieved in our last life appears before our soul like an entity of thoughts—[a living image of memory consisting of thought-entities], a tableau. The first is thus like a retrospective view of the past earthly life; it is like an external world into which the thoughts we have absorbed are woven [in full activity].

[ 11 ] This retrospective review lasts only a few days. Its duration varies, [depending on the development of the individual, and the spiritual researcher has noticed the following while studying this question]: A person may reflect on his life’s achievements—which are transformed into thoughts—after death for approximately as long as he would have had the strength to remain awake during his life prior to death, [without the natural forces of fatigue forcing him to sleep]. One person may be able to do this for many nights, while another cannot. The moral value of life does not depend on this duration.

[ 12 ] When this time of reflection has come to an end, it is as if an essence—the essence of the thoughts we gained in our last life—were to “drift away” from us. An important part of this tableau departs from us. We have the feeling that our life experience is receding into vast spiritual distances. This feeling that arises from it—that what you knew to be connected to you before death is receding into vast distances—is the dawning of a new consciousness after death. We develop our awareness of objects in our physical, earthly life before death by, so to speak, coming into contact with things through our senses and powers of judgment. Because the external world offers us resistance, a counterforce develops within us. This gives us consciousness before death. Afterward, consciousness is not dulled, but is of an entirely different nature.

[ 13 ] [In this process of sensing—as the entire achievement, the essence of one’s last earthly life, now departs from one—the new consciousness begins, and] other, much more inner experiences now follow. Whereas in the early stages after death we experienced our thoughts as a spiritual external world around us, we now experience—through inner soul forces that are entirely different from those before death—a connection with our last earthly life, with soul forces for which there are no words, which cannot be treated as either feeling or will. One could describe this [as something] like a middle ground between feeling and willing, [as a feeling will] or [as a] willing feeling. It dawns like a feeling, but there is a desire within that feeling. The soul stands directly within this desire, and this aspect of the soul’s power is directed toward the last earthly life, so that we now go through a period—which can still be measured in years—in this way. It can be characterized as follows: During earthly life, we satisfy our desires and longings and enter into certain relationships with the outside world; yet for no one is everything they have desired in life—feeling and willing—exhausted when they depart from life. The soul’s experience and feeling still retain a remnant of what one could still have enjoyed. This now revives in the soul in such a way that the soul feels it as if it were still desiring it. This gives rise to a longing for a connection with the last earthly life. Inwardly, in its feeling of will, the soul is preoccupied with its last earthly life. Because it is in a spiritual environment, it comes to recognize that earthly life and earthly conditions are necessary for that feeling and will, [and] that it cannot satisfy them here. Coming to terms with this takes years [in the spiritual world]. The person is already in the spiritual world; they perceive it, but they perceive it indirectly through their previous earthly life.

[ 14 ] Let us suppose that a person has passed away, leaving behind someone—friends or others—in earthly life. He still has a relationship with the being he left behind, but it takes the form of the deceased looking back on his own earthly life: “This is how you felt about the other being.” — By looking at this feeling, the connection with the other being is established. One gains insight into the being one has left behind. The same is true of a being who is already in the spiritual world and who was connected to us on Earth. We do not find them directly, but indirectly through the relationship that connects us—as it were, like a telegraphic link—to these beings, who then dwell spiritually in our surroundings. We are not separated from the beings to whom we have become connected. Relationships can be established, but—because we need the detour through our earthly life—only with those with whom we were connected during our earthly life. What we felt and experienced toward these people serves as the connecting link. [The world of the dead consists of people who have passed through the gate of death and lived with the deceased on Earth in friendly or hostile relationships.] In the first few years, our relationships do not extend beyond this circle.

[ 15 ] One might therefore say: It refers to the period of time a person experiences up to the point when they begin to recall their past—the early years of childhood, which one does not remember, are not taken into account.

[ 16 ] Whether a person has lived to be twenty-five, thirty-six, or fifty-five years old makes no difference to the duration of this experience. Once one has reached middle age, the length of time one lives beyond that point does not contribute significantly to prolonging this experience after death. This process of breaking free from the connection to one’s last earthly life—which takes place in soul forces that can be called “feeling-willing” or “willing-feeling”—lasts about two decades. When this period is over—and one senses it coming even while it is still underway—one realizes that a new soul force is awakening. It is not present in earthly life; the spiritual researcher recognizes it only outside the body. The term “creative, formative acts of will” or “will activity” can be used to describe it. The human being gradually comes to sense that something like a soul force is streaming out from within oneself into one’s spiritual surroundings. One could also describe this force as a spiritual luminosity, although it is not similar to physical light. It spreads from the soul into the spiritual surroundings. Through it, we learn to recognize the spiritual processes that take place between birth and death. We illuminate our surroundings, as it were. When one observes the state of the soul in which a person finds themselves—as they illuminate their surroundings through their soul light, which they sense as a creative force of will—one might say: There is an infinite, yet spiritual, noble sense of well-being in the creative power of the spiritual light—truly something like bliss—which one experiences by recognizing beings and processes in this spiritual world. It is a stepping into a completely direct perception of even those beings who have passed through the gate of death into the spiritual world. Now spiritual insight and spiritual connection arise that are no longer derived from looking back on our last earthly life. [Compare my work *The Threshold of the Spiritual World*]. One has the feeling: One perceives because one radiates one’s spiritual light around oneself—otherwise everything would remain dark.

[ 17 ] Now something like a shift occurs in the experience. One could put it this way: The soul radiates this spiritual light of its own accord, but as it develops this spiritual luminosity, the soul feels its strength waning; it feels itself growing weaker, and the creative power begins to fade. It becomes like a spiritual darkness in the surroundings. But this has nothing to do with darkness in the physical sense. The soul now has a different experience, which alternates with a sense of being alone, where we feel as if we were in the midst of darkness, lonely. One might say: moments of spiritual fellowship and spiritual togetherness alternate with states in which the soul feels alone with itself, experiencing only what wells up from within—what one might call the lingering aftereffects of what one went through while radiating spiritual light. One cannot call it a memory. One feels lonely in a vast spiritual world that is now dark.

[ 18 ] These states must alternate. When one is alone with oneself, the inner experience of the aftereffects becomes infinitely vivid. One transforms what was previously the external world into one’s inner life. By reliving in solitude what one has previously experienced, this creative power is strengthened, and a different vibration sets in. One then feels as if waking up again, reunited with other spiritual beings. [These are processes comparable to the everyday cycle of sleeping and waking, but they last much longer.] Radiating light is a kind of waking state, while being alone—yet possessing a very clear consciousness—is a kind of sleeping state. One learns to recognize that these two states are necessary, that during one the forces for the other are generated. Thus, one experiences one’s own self more intensely in the states of the latter kind.

[ 19 ] As we continue on, we sense that the farther we move back toward the midpoint of the time between death and birth, the more the power that creates the light of the soul out of loneliness is diminished. There come times when we feel that we are able to radiate less and less light. The lonely times become ever harder because they are lonelier; the periods during which one is withdrawn into oneself grow ever longer. One becomes increasingly aware that a world surrounds one, yet the experience is an inner, solitary one—until the time comes when one is at the midpoint between death and birth. I have tried to describe this with [the expression] “spiritual midnight,” [compare the depiction of the hour of spiritual midnight in the Mystery Drama *The Awakening of the Soul*].

[ 20 ] One lives as if in [a dark] spiritual environment [of which we can already form an idea here, if we shut out all impressions of our surroundings and concentrate entirely on ourselves]—which is concentrated within us, so that the entire world we experience is, as it were, nothing but ourselves. When the soul, having thus experienced the bliss of sharing in the lives of spiritual beings and processes [—not only getting to know other human souls, but also spiritual beings who live and act in the spiritual world, having, as it were, ascended hierarchically in the spiritual world from lower forms of being to higher ones—all of this is [then] processed inwardly during times of solitude.

[ 21 ] Then comes the spiritual midnight. Now the soul’s powers take on a completely different significance. When we experience longing in our physical bodies during ordinary life, this is the most passive of our powers. Longing arises from the weakness of the soul. This soul force takes on a completely different significance in the time between death and birth. For out of the soul’s solitude, [at the spiritual hour of midnight] longing awakens once more for a world that lies outside ourselves; but this longing is a creative force, and because it is a positive force, it sets before us a very peculiar outer world that is just as much an inner world. The image of our past earthly lives emerges before our eyes, as if from what one might call the distant past. It is true for every soul that it surveys its past earthly lives. Longing sharpens the gaze. The soul takes these tendencies into itself. These earthly lives were as they were, and because they were so, a new earthly life is necessary to compensate for the imperfections, so that human harmony can be fully restored within you. I have met people who could not believe in repeated earthly lives. They said: “One earthly life is enough for me!”—At this point, not only does every soul believe in it, but by reflecting on it, it develops the tendency to lead new, balancing earthly lives.

[ 22 ] This takes some time, and as we hold this longing within us, things begin to brighten again. The next thing that becomes apparent is that we are not only, as spiritual beings, surrounded by the souls who were close to us in life—they now appear in a new form. We see those who were related to us by blood or lived as friends; we feel: You still owe this to them, you still have this to settle. We experience this imbalance, and the strength to balance it out takes root in our soul. But these souls experience the same thing as we do; they have a tendency to balance out what can be balanced in new earthly lives. This causes them to spend a new life together with us. The souls strive together in such a way that they find one another in new lives to balance what has remained unbalanced. What was our immediate surroundings emerges, and furthermore, what was our more distant surroundings emerges [personal relationships based on love and aversion come to the fore]. After all, we are also united with those with whom we belonged to a people, with whom we have joined together in this or that society, and with whom we have shared a common religious creed. Within the circle we have thus lived through, we now find ourselves—again at a later time than the one described—and come to know what forces we must instill in our feeling will and willing feeling in order to move forward.

[ 23 ] Thus, little by little, what awakens within us the tendency to live a new earthly life in a very specific way begins to emerge. Something like an archetype of a new earthly life takes shape, like a creative imagination: one feels a desire for it, for one longs for this imagination. One feels: This is how you should be in a future life. One then experiences, in solitude, a strengthening of the inclination toward the image of how one wishes to shape one’s new body. While experiencing all this, a peculiar feeling arises, which is like a strange kind of will. Whereas in physical life we feel regarding the will: “We do something”—we now feel: It flows [into us from afar], it weaves itself into our being, flows through us as if with feelings of warmth. A feeling will flowing within us is present. We feel: This comes from where our thoughts have “drifted away.” We feel that we are on the way to the thoughts that have departed. We feel: At the right moment, you will seek out a pair of parents who can provide you with the physical form for what you are shaping as the archetype for a new earthly life. We feel: The moment to reincarnate is when we reunite with the thoughts that have left us. We are approaching our life experience once more, and where it unites with us, we then permeate the archetype and are drawn to a pair of parents who will provide us with the genetic material for a new life.

[ 24 ] That’s only true if everything goes normally, but that’s extremely rare. In most cases, the tendency to incarnate does not arise at exactly that moment; rather, other circumstances cause one to descend earlier. This results in earthly lives that do not fully restore what we had previously acquired—lives that represent a decline.

[ 25 ] It then turns out that when a person must descend to Earth and those thoughts are still far off—even if he descends again and again before reaching the point where he encounters the life experiences he has gained—he still eventually arrives at the point where he must once more come to terms with what he has, as it were, gone through prematurely.

[ 26 ] This shows just how enlightening the findings of spiritual research are. The spiritual researcher naturally develops a deep affinity for everything that lives, suffers, and rejoices on Earth. He develops understanding for every soul. Let us suppose one is faced with the soul of a criminal—necessary punishment must, of course, be meted out— one can nevertheless face a criminal soul with deep compassion. The impulse arises to seek an understanding of how this soul came to incarnate in this way. One discovers: This is a special spiritual premature birth. It was compelled to descend much earlier than the thoughts had encountered it on its path. Such souls have a tendency to incarnate at this point in time, but because they cannot incarnate at the moment their thoughts catch up with them, they nevertheless carry within them a tendency to enter earthly life; and because they did not arrive where they were meant to go, they harbor a disregard for life in their subconscious. Such a soul becomes understandable to one. I have tried to trace the peculiarities of the criminal soul all the way down to the language of criminals. There are, after all, already dictionaries of this language. The language of criminals reveals a character that is connected to the unconscious tendencies of the soul. One need only examine this language. It expresses—one might say—a certain contempt for life. If one traces these connections, one sees that only the human being who incarnated at the right moment [whose soul, together with all his thoughts, came together at the right time] truly feels at home in his incarnation; the other does not feel in harmony within it. These souls possess a particularly strong superconscious instinct for self-preservation; in the depths of their unconscious lies a contempt for life. The interplay of this contempt with the instinct for self-preservation gives rise to criminal natures.

[ 27 ] One can observe all sorts of details regarding reincarnations when one examines what the soul is capable of exploring using the proper spiritual-scientific method. What I am describing are individual cases. When a person dies prematurely due to an accident, they leave a body that they would not yet have needed to leave. They enter this spiritual world in such a way that it presents itself to them in a completely different manner [than if death had occurred at an advanced age]. They perceive it through the veil of the forces that could still have been active in the body. As a result, stronger forces develop than would have been possible without this veil. As a spiritual researcher, one meets people who have become so strong, who possess powers that allow them to control their bodies more than others can, transcending what is commonly called fatigue. They have gone through a tragedy—so one finds—through early death, and have preserved something that has given them great strength.

[ 28 ] The worlds are separate from one another. We must say: It is impossible—indeed, it would be nonsense—to claim that a life should end prematurely in order to gain strong powers [in life in the spiritual world and, at most, also in a subsequent earthly life]. These powers could, after all, be evil. Or they could be good. We must live out the possibilities of this life; but if that is to be the case, and if [an early death] is part of our destiny, [it will occur without any further action on our part; only at the highest level of spiritual experience can such an event be foreseen]. Life becomes clear when we view it through such findings—looking into the life that lies between birth or conception and death, and the life between death and birth. We ourselves have formed the archetype of our life [indeed, in the spiritual world]. In this higher sense, we are, from within the spiritual world, the shapers, the creators of our lives, the re-creators, [co-creators of our earthly life].

[ 29 ] [If anyone were to interpret these descriptions to mean that only one soul has a relationship with another, it can be said, by way of correction, that the spiritual researcher, too, stands before the disembodied souls at the gate of death in a manner similar to that in which they stand before one another, and this makes it possible to learn something about death.

[ 30 ] That which lives within us as immortal possesses qualities that do not fully manifest in life as they truly are. Between death and birth, feeling and willing are not as they are here, for the feeling that wills and the willing that feels are much more vivid there than here. The spiritual researcher discovers within himself what truly lives immortally in the soul.

[ 31 ] When one encounters an object in the physical world, one does not need to prove its properties—[which can be perceived in many ways through the senses]—such as the redness of a rose. Philosophical inquiries into immortality are only possible as long as one does not confront what lives within us with qualities other than those we perceive. The spiritual researcher knows: This soul-being has a different destiny than the body; it carries immortality within itself. Interaction with the external world implants something in the soul that serves as the seed from which a new earthly life takes shape. Just as a new plant develops from the seed that is already present while the plant is alive [after it withers], so it is true that between death and birth the seed develops into the new life; it need only pass through the period between death and birth. There is one difference, however, compared to the plant. That a core develops within the soul—one that passes through spiritual worlds—soon becomes clear when one becomes acquainted with spiritual research; but one might still have this concern: Yes, but the plant seed can be eaten; it can rot. The possibility may exist for it to become something new; but it may also fail to do so. — This is true only in the physical world, not in the spiritual world. [For the spiritual researcher, none of his observations reveal anything that could prevent the soul kernel from reappearing in a new life, based on the forces absorbed into it during the life between death and rebirth.

[ 32 ] Thus, life within the body only becomes clear when viewed as the consequence of life outside the body and, in turn, the seed from which a new life on Earth springs. One can be well aware that, in our present time, hostile voices must be raised everywhere against such conclusions, which have been reached with the utmost caution by spiritual research. This deviates greatly from the prevailing ways of thinking of the time. But even with the emergence of the Copernican worldview—[when Copernicus appeared and, so to speak, pulled the ground out from under people’s feet by teaching that the Earth moves at breakneck speed through space, while the Sun, as it were, stands still in relation to it, completely contrary to earlier ways of thinking]—humanity had to relearn and learn to view things differently. People only gradually become accustomed to new ways of thinking. For the spiritual researcher, there is already, in the depths of the soul, a longing to gain insight into what lies beyond birth and death, [beyond earthly life]; souls strive, without knowing it, to reach this “spiritual Copernicus.”

[ 33 ] Anyone who must engage with these matters—because fate has destined him to speak of them—must simply rely on what has always proven to be the right course in the course of human development. Even back then, reactionary minds often could not keep up. [In Copernicus’s time, the natural sciences were reluctant to delve into his views; his works were long frowned upon by the Church as well], but his example showed how truth finds its way, even if it must force its way through the narrowest of cracks. This is what the spiritual researcher relies on. Just as Copernicus and Giordano Bruno broke through the resistant patterns of human thought to offer a view into the infinite expanse of the cosmos, so too will a spiritual perspective take root—one that shows that the spiritual firmament lying between birth and death is created solely through human knowledge, and that our vision will expand into a temporal infinity. One might characterize this as a source of inner strength and comfort in the face of the voices that, understandably, still speak out against spiritual research today—especially from those who believe they stand firmly on the ground of science. The spiritual researcher recognizes the triumphs of science and acknowledges its necessity. When objections are raised from the religious side—out of a certain impulse to preserve the spiritual realm for faith—one might say: When Copernicus came forward with his new worldview, many said, “That is unbelievable; it is not in the Bible.”—They believed religion was in danger. Time moved on. Religion came to terms with Copernicus. Religion cannot be endangered by the discovery of new truths. How feeble must a conception of God be [that could not bear having new insights incorporated into it]. Let’s suppose Columbus had wanted to discover America and others had tried to stop him from sailing, arguing that one could not know whether the sun would shine there as well. The belief that religious sentiment and faith in God could be endangered by the opening up of new spiritual realms of the soul is just as absurd. Just as we know that the sun will shine there in the new land, so does the spiritual researcher know which worlds of the soul and spirit will eventually be opened up. Your conception of God is a powerful, inner sun that can be carried into everything. Thus, religious sentiment cannot be endangered. – Someone replied to me: “Yes, but you’re confusing the Copernican worldview with this new, so-called spiritual science. You don’t see that Copernicus discovered facts. Spiritual science merely makes assertions.” – One might say: [Poor spiritual swallower], how little you realize what you’re saying. [What do you know about the facts of the Copernican worldview; what have you ever truly experienced of them yourself?] If you were not living under the influence of suggestion but were to study the matter, you would see that back then [when those revolutionary ideas about the cosmic structure and motion of our planetary system first emerged] the situation was the same as it is now with regard to the perception of the spiritual worlds. – The same person would certainly have said before the discovery of the new Copernican view: “It is, after all, a fact that the Earth stands still [and the Sun—as appears to the eye—moves around the Earth].” – So he says now: “It is a fact that a human being lives only once on Earth.” – He will come to realize [that multiple earthly lives are also facts]. Spiritual science today [despite our age of such pride in logic] cannot easily make sense to people [who have awakened to materialism]. In a [recent] book, *Thoughts on Death* by [Brausewetter], we read:

[ 34 ] It is impossible to prove immortality. Neither Plato nor Mendelssohn, who based his views on Plato, succeeded in substantiating it on the grounds of the soul’s simplicity and indestructibility. Even if we concede that the soul has a simple nature, its persistence as a mere object of inner contemplation remains unproven and unprovable.

[ 35 ] One cannot prove the rose’s redness. For those who can grasp spiritual life, [such a test—which is, however, symptomatic] foreshadows the flimsy logic of much of what is happening today. [In conclusion, may I be permitted to summarize what has been presented this evening as a kind of feeling: One senses spiritual science as something that is approaching people anew in our time, united with the ancestors, the most outstanding leaders of spiritual humanity.] Let us point out just one beautiful statement by Goethe that we must not dismiss lightly—one that is not merely a reaffirmation of Goethe’s belief in the immortality of the soul, but is also deeply connected to the research of spiritual science into life beyond the body. Goethe says:

[ 36 ] I have no desire whatsoever to be deprived of the joy of believing in a future life; indeed, I would say, along with Lorenzo de’ Medici, that all those who hope for no other life are dead even in this one; yet such incomprehensible matters lie too far beyond our reach to be the subject of daily contemplation or mind-numbing speculation. Spiritual research shows us that what lives on after we have passed through the gate of death—that which lives within us as the core of the soul—exists between birth and death in the depths of the soul and continually exerts its influence. We live from this core, which develops for future lives. We live from that in which we hope; [otherwise we could not live spiritually without the emotional, deeply inner conviction of what we might expect from a spiritual life]. Our life force is our hope for a spiritual life. Goethe senses and feels this. That is why he does not merely say that he feels convinced of the immortality of the soul; he says:

[ 37 ] I feel that people live on what they can hope for.

[ 38 ] This statement reinforces the spiritual science that teaches that we already live in the present through our hope for future lives.

Q&A

Question: I was a missionary and had [a] severe case of malaria; I was in agony. As this was happening, I saw my entire life flash before my eyes in rapid but calm images, much like unframed pictures along a long wall.

[ 39 ] Rudolf Steiner: This experience is not [an] exceptional case, but [it is] quite naturally rooted in the life of the soul. One experiences this passing-by not only when one dies, but every time one dwells outside one’s body with one’s soul forces. The spiritual researcher can induce it at will. Such a case is described by the criminal anthropologist Moritz Benedikt, [who as a child] fell into the water. Every time the soul experience detaches itself, this flashback occurs. One cannot, therefore, expect the phenomenon to be any different from [how] it has been described here. It resembles cinematography because it happens so quickly that it appears almost simultaneously. The comparison with cinematography is intended only to convey the speed at which the images unfold.

Question: Can you choose your parents and your new life?

[ 40 ] Rudolf Steiner: In the spiritual realm, a person cannot relate their concepts to their desires in the same way as before death. Only if one wishes to have an effective ideal—and it must be an effective one—for one’s coming earthly life can one choose one’s parents.

Question: Is it possible to have a memory of one's previous existence?

[ 41 ] Rudolf Steiner: That is simply a matter of maturity. The fact that most people today do not have this recollection does not mean it does not exist. That would be like saying: You claim that human beings can do arithmetic. I’ll bring you a person who cannot do arithmetic, so human beings cannot do arithmetic. – One can be a very famous person in one earthly life, and that very fact may be the reason why entirely different conditions arise in the next earthly life. This recollection actually occurs only as a kind of deepening of insight.

Question: How is reincarnation possible? After all, the population is growing.

[ 42 ] Rudolf Steiner: This is a question that comes up after almost every other lecture, and often after every lecture. But one does not preclude the other.

Question: Do repeated lives on Earth go on indefinitely? And if not, what comes next?

[ 43 ] Rudolf Steiner: They last about as long as the physical Earth itself. One cannot always cover everything in a single lecture, from the beginning of the world to its end. One should not have such layered levels in one’s imagination at all—not such speculative levels of thought. In any case, what is to follow will become clear in due course. A speaker is said to have once answered the question of what God had done before the creation of the world by saying: “I cut rods for those who ask useless questions.” – I wouldn’t have said that, because a speaker has to be polite in a certain sense, doesn’t he? But the idea that one can pose “ultimate questions” stems from a habit of thought.

Question: [Is there] a difference in the afterlife if a person commits suicide while in a state of insanity?

[ 44 ] Rudolf Steiner: The circumstances are different here; one must look at the overall course of events.

Question: Is there a purpose to praying for our deceased loved ones and having Masses said for them? Do the dead remain in contact with us?

[ 45 ] Rudolf Steiner: With death, everything physical falls away, but everything else remains: the spirit of relationships, friendship, and so on. A living remembrance is best; this can also take place without a memorial service—it simply varies according to one’s religious beliefs. Every act of gathering oneself, every moment of being within oneself and at peace with oneself brings [one] closer to the spiritual worlds and also benefits the dead.

Question: Does Hodler represent the beginning or the end of a form of art?

[ 46 ] Rudolf Steiner: It depends on your point of view! Everything is the beginning of one thing and the end of another.

Question: What about mental illness: [in cases of] superhuman destructive forces [or] rigidity, intense inner agitation [or] hearing voices?

[ 47 ] Rudolf Steiner: Here is a whole bundle of questions. There is not really such a thing as a disease of the spirit. What we call “mental illnesses” are actually nothing other than physical abnormalities. If you look at yourself in a poorly constructed mirror, a face may stare back at you that you would rather not see. The cause of so-called mental illnesses is to be found in the interaction between the soul-spirit and the diseased body. I would like to expressly note that it does not follow from this that the treatment need be purely physical. It is often the case that a body that is out of balance distorts the expression of the soul; when the body is healed, this brings about a sense of calm and, in many cases, an improvement.

Question: Is birth control permitted?

[ 48 ] Rudolf Steiner: Well, there we have it!

Question: What about an incarnation in which a person died shortly after birth?

[ 49 ] Rudolf Steiner: This incarnation must be added to the previous earthly life. Perhaps the person was not able to express everything they wanted to in their last earthly life. Then they add on another short life like this. Karmically, this still belongs to the previous life, not to the subsequent incarnation—especially if death occurs before birth. At least sometimes it is so; at other times, it is different. For example, one may wish to meet certain people who are currently incarnated. This can take place in early childhood. The circumstances can vary a hundredfold.

Question: What happens when a person dies while insane? [The rest of the question was such that the audience began to laugh.]

[ 50 ] Rudolf Steiner: The other day there was also someone who mocked a question; I had to point out that I find that hardly Christian, and since he was a pastor, it was a peculiar occurrence.

[ 51 ] One should not speculate about such cases, but rather consider only concrete examples. For instance, there was once a person born with intellectual disabilities who suffered greatly from the lack of compassion shown by those around him. Looking back after death, he realized that this had enabled him to develop great powers. Powers, after all, transform in the most diverse ways. This person was reborn as a genius of philanthropy.

Question: What if the spiritual researcher isn't a saint?

[ 52 ] Rudolf Steiner: Perhaps he is not so only in the eyes of those around him. Lichtenberger says: If a book and a mind collide and it sounds hollow, must the fault lie with the book? Question: [What about] hereditary predisposition? Rudolf Steiner: [No answer available.]

Question: Judging by the last lecture, people with evil instincts must be the most intellectually gifted.

[ 53 ] Rudolf Steiner: The last lecture was not intended to be a glorification of evil. One must not say that evil is something of value in the spiritual world. But when it is brought down where it does not belong, then it is evil. Even gifted people with evil instincts demonstrate that they have not left what they possess in the higher worlds, but have wrongly brought it down into the physical world.

Question: Is keeping them awake for a long time particularly desirable?

[ 54 ] Rudolf Steiner: No, you won't achieve anything through things like that.

Question: When I close my eyes, I often see the face of my mother, who passed away five years ago; she opens her eyes wearily, and they are often filled with sadness. What can I do for her?

[ 55 ] Rudolf Steiner: This is a very specific question, and any answer would have to take into account that we are dealing with a special case here. The most diverse phenomena can have a wide variety of causes; for example, the etheric body may be affected. In any case, it is good to think of such a deceased person with love and to engage with them in thought, for what one does in thought belongs to the spiritual world—and thus to the deceased.

Question: What is anthroposophy?

[ 56 ] Rudolf Steiner: It is not so easy to put this into words. Anthroposophy is what a person can learn about themselves when not only the intellect—which is only a part of the human being—but the whole human being provides the answer.