The Rudolf Steiner Archive

15. Supernatural Knowledge and Its Strengthening Power for the Soul in These Fateful Times

[ 1 ] Ladies and gentlemen! For a number of years now, I have had the privilege of speaking here time and again on questions of worldview from the perspective of spiritual science, which will also form the basis for this evening’s reflections.

[ 2 ] Now, the friends of our spiritual-scientific worldview here have essentially been of the opinion that such a lecture could be given again this year, in these difficult times of ours. And that may well not be inappropriate, because spiritual science, as understood here, is truly connected to the deepest questions of the human heart, human life, and the human soul—to all the questions that get to the root of the bitter disappointments of human life, as well as the impulses that underlie the courageous, bold, and self-sacrificing deeds of our time, a time that holds so much in its bosom and in which we are living right now.

[ 3 ] However, spiritual science, as it is understood here, is in our time neither very appropriate nor in keeping with the ways of thinking of the broadest circles. And those who are fully immersed, with their very souls, in what is referred to here as spiritual science will by no means find it incomprehensible when contradiction after contradiction, opposition after opposition, arises against what is said here from the standpoint of spiritual science. It is also much more understandable to the adherent of this spiritual science when the general judgment and prevailing views regard this spiritual science as something fanciful or dreamlike. Such judgments are initially voiced by those who have not yet become closely acquainted with this spiritual science. This is easier to understand than if, for example, anyone were to lightheartedly and immediately express agreement with such unfamiliar ideas. In particular, there are three points of view that are repeatedly raised by opponents against spiritual science.

[ 4 ] First and foremost, it is argued that what purports to be a spiritual science contradicts a worldview based on the sensory foundations of contemporary scientific research. The second objection, which must naturally arise as well, is that this spiritual science, by its very nature, could easily lead into the dark sides of human soul life—into superstition, prejudice, and the like. And a third objection that is still raised is that the most valuable and most cherished human sentiments and feelings—religious feelings—would somehow be undermined by what spiritual science has to offer.

[ 5 ] Well, ladies and gentlemen, I hope that the remarks I shall take the liberty of making this evening will make it clear how these three objections to spiritual science—or, one might also say, to supersensible knowledge—can be refuted.

[ 6 ] First, let us consider the relationship between spiritual science and scientific thinking, and between spiritual science and a worldview based on the natural sciences as it exists today. Time and again, I have already emphasized here that true, non-amateur spiritual science will not in the slightest way rebel against anything that is a well-established finding of the current scientific worldview. On the contrary, spiritual science aims to be, for the realm of spiritual life in the truest and most genuine sense of the word, a continuation of what natural science is for external, sensory, and outwardly practical life—what natural science has achieved to such a high and admirable degree over the past centuries. However, this means that spiritual science seeks to be science—in the same sense that natural science is for the external realm—specifically for the spiritual realm. Therefore, spiritual science must take entirely different paths and conduct research in a completely different manner than natural science does. And because, particularly over the course of the last few centuries—namely the nineteenth century—and right up to the present day, people have become accustomed to to regard only that way of approaching things as truly scientific—the way the natural sciences do it—it is only natural that, at present, people are not yet willing to accept as science something that, on the one hand, aspires to be a science but, as a humanities discipline, must differ from the natural sciences.

[ 7 ] Essentially, the humanities begin their research precisely where the natural sciences—and indeed, ordinary, everyday thinking—end. And the easiest way to get an idea of what the humanities aim to be and should be—how they seek to position themselves within the entire cultural process of our time—is to pay attention to how they differ from scientific research and everyday thinking. In scientific research and in ordinary thinking, we observe the objects of the sensory world that surround us. We try to grasp the laws governing the processes of this sensory world with our thinking, which is bound to the brain. We try to establish a connection within the succession of phenomena. And in general, in ordinary thinking as well as in ordinary science, we are quite naturally satisfied with having acquired concepts, terms, and ideas about what unfolds before our senses or what takes place in the course of humanity’s historical development. Once we have arrived at these conceptions, terms, and ideas, and once we can be convinced that they represent something of external sensory reality, we have satisfied our need for this external knowledge.

[ 8 ] Where this conventional science, this everyday thinking, must come to a halt, that is precisely where spiritual science must begin its research. For spiritual science, it is not a matter of conducting external experiments, nor of applying research methods based on things that can be perceived externally by the senses, but rather of studying the most intimate processes of the soul—processes that must first be evoked. The spiritual researcher is engaged in purely spiritual and psychological work in a spiritual laboratory, just as the chemist is engaged in sensory work in an external laboratory and its processes. And just as the chemist allows people to look into what he can discern from nature through his experiments, so too must the spiritual researcher be able to allow people to look into intimate soul processes—which, however, just as processes in the chemical laboratory must be induced through experiments, must first be induced. This is what one must pay particular attention to. It is not through soul experiences that one already has in ordinary life or in ordinary science that one arrives at the results of spiritual science, but solely by evoking soul-spiritual processes that are not present at all in ordinary thinking, ordinary imagination, and ordinary feeling.

[ 9 ] What the soul must accomplish here is usually referred to as meditation, as concentration of thought. And it will be my task to sketch—with just a few strokes of the pen, so to speak—a picture that illustrates what the spiritual researcher must do to find the path into the spiritual worlds. You can find more detailed information in my books, in *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?* and in the second part of my *Secret Science*.

[ 10 ] What is at stake here is that one approaches the thought, the concept, the sensation—in short, the entire inner life of the human being—in a different way than one is accustomed to doing in everyday life and in conventional science. Where one stops there, one must first begin for the sake of spiritual research. It is not a matter of having a thought for the sake of spiritual science, but rather of living inwardly, of becoming completely one with a thought experience or a feeling experience. Therefore, it is not at all important—not at all essential—to have a thought or a feeling experience that initially reflects something external. I would like to say that one experiences spiritual research more intimately when one first surrenders to such thought experiences that do not represent anything external. To illustrate this, I would like to give an example—a simple example.

[ 11 ] Let us suppose that someone forms the following idea: “In the light that spreads through the room, wisdom floods out through the world.” This is certainly not a thought that any scientist or the external, materially bound life would acknowledge. But the point is not to depict something that is externally and sensually real, but rather to sink the thought fully into the depths of spiritual life and to awaken within the soul the power that must be awakened if, through inner effort, such a thought is to be held solely within spiritual life. One must divert one’s attention from everything one otherwise sees and hears in the world; from everything one otherwise remembers in life; and also from everything one may experience as the sorrows and joys of life—above all, sensations that arise from the passions and from the life of the instincts; one must turn one’s attention away from all of this for the duration that one wishes to immerse oneself completely in such a thought, which one places at the center of one’s inner life through one’s own volition.

[ 12 ] All these soul forces, which are otherwise devoted to the soul’s unfolding life, are drawn away from external life, and also from everyday inner life. For what matters is not that one has this thought on which one wishes to concentrate, nor what it contains, but rather the inner, spiritual-soul activity—the spiritual-soul work—of becoming aware of what the soul is doing as it focuses on a single thought. However, such an exercise must not be done just once as a passing activity or repeated a few times, and one must not then expect that any experiences will occur. This exercise must be continued again and again for years, depending on the individual’s personal disposition. For some people it takes less time; for others, longer. But patience, perseverance, and inner energy must be applied so that the path of spiritual research can be embarked upon in this way. Above all, the work of patience must consist of holding onto the same thought again and again—you will soon see the reason why this is necessary. What matters is not a succession of thoughts, but this concentrated activity of the soul.

[ 13 ] Now, when one in this way directs the soul toward an arbitrary activity that it would not otherwise engage in in external life, one gradually notices that what the soul thus accomplishes becomes increasingly independent of that on which it is otherwise quite dependent—the physical, the external bodily realm. One must experience what emerges from this togetherness—this very intimate togetherness with such an activity of the soul. And that is what seems so grotesque, indeed paradoxical, to the habits of thought of our time when people hear what can emerge from such an inner effort of the soul’s life. For just as someone who has never heard of chemistry and has only seen water cannot conceive that hydrogen—which has entirely different properties than water—can be extracted from water—water is a liquid and extinguishes fire, while hydrogen is a gas and burns on its own— hydrogen is something other than water, yet it is contained within water; however, one only becomes aware of it once it has been extracted through chemical methods. To anyone who has never seen this or heard anything about chemistry, it will sound astonishing that a substance that burns can be extracted from water.

[ 14 ] Thus, for someone who has never heard of spiritual experiences—of such experiences in the soul— it seems paradoxical and fantastical when they are told that through the repeated exertion of the soul in the direction described, the spiritual-soul aspect is truly separated from the physical-bodily aspect, that the spiritual-soul aspect becomes entirely free, and that one can say that the end of the path—the beginning of which, as mentioned, has been outlined in a few strokes—is what one experiences: You are no longer with your thinking within your body, your brain; you are with it outside your body. Your body has become an object outside of yourself, just as the objects of the sensory world are outside the physical body.

[ 15 ] This is a profound, significant experience to which the spiritual researcher ascends. To have truly experienced, even once, that one can be independent of the physical-bodily realm in one’s spiritual-soul activities—this is among the most profound experiences one can undergo in one’s soul life. And this must be emphasized: The methods of the spiritual researcher are not the kind that leave one as indifferent as external scientific methods do. Even if I had to describe to you what may seem to you to be an abstract inner process, this process is nonetheless connected—when one truly succeeds in intensifying one’s entire soul life through what has been deliberately brought into its center—with all inner soul experience. Not merely the experience of thought, but rising from the depths of the soul are the impulses of feeling and the impulses of the will. One has the feeling that one is drawn, with one’s entire inner being, toward what the thought on which one has concentrated has drawn out of one. The beginning of the path is that one feels inwardly energized, rising, as it were, to that one sensation, which is initially felt with full intensity: You detach yourself from your physical body; you move into a completely different world, one into which your physical body cannot enter. I am not telling you something I have made up, but rather the actual experiences of the researcher.

[ 16 ] So first one has this experience of emerging from the physical-bodily realm. But then this experience transforms. As one continues to strive along this path, what happens is that, instead of this inner experience becoming stronger, one now feels this inner life fading; it grows weaker and weaker. Up to a certain point, it grows stronger and stronger, but then it grows weaker and weaker. So that one has the feeling: not a physical, external weakness, but a spiritual-psychic weakness is beginning. One has the feeling that, once one has detached from the body, one is losing all one’s spiritual and psychic experiences, as if some unknown force were taking both away.

[ 17 ] If I were to describe what one experiences inwardly here, I would have to resort to concepts and comparisons—but these carry a deeper meaning than ordinary comparisons, and may seem unfamiliar at first. Let us suppose a plant were to grow out of the ground, developing leaves and flowers until it bears fruit. Within this plant lies the very force that ultimately brings forth the seed. Let us suppose that the seed could become conscious as the plant grows in this way. Let us suppose that the seed would have to experience the sensation: I am becoming ever more powerful, ever more capable of bringing forth a new plant from within myself. But the seed knows that the old plant is destined to die. It knows: I am taking its strength; I can thrive as a seed only by causing the leaves to fall and the flowers to wither. All of this must lose its meaning; only then can I, as a seed, develop.

[ 18 ] This is also the case, my esteemed audience, when one immerses oneself in the spiritual-soul aspect—which has now become free of the body—in the manner described. One feels as if one were immersing oneself in an element that is always at the very core of the soul, but which, throughout the entire human life between birth and death, contains forces that are actually destructive; forces that gradually cause the human being to wither away, leading the human being—as he is in physical life—toward death. One cannot look upon this process at the very depths of the human soul; one cannot do so without, at a certain moment, having brought before the mind’s eye the causes that exist within the human being as the reasons for the death that will one day come upon him in physical life.

[ 19 ] Therefore, for those who have known something about this process over the centuries, the experience referred to here is such that they have said: One reaches the gates of death; one comes to realize, when the spiritual-soul aspect detaches itself from the physical body, that through the very best we possess in everyday life—through what is our innermost life essence—we are constantly tugging at and paralyzing the physical body. This is graciously hidden from us in ordinary life. There we merely enjoy the fruit. We realize that we can think and feel. The spiritual researcher has discovered that when he truly isolates from his body that which underlies thinking and feeling, it is precisely this that is constantly consuming the body—that which lives within the human being as the power of thought, the power of feeling, and the power of will. In its true form, it is that which harbors the destructive forces of the body and which ultimately truly converges into death.

[ 20 ] You can understand that the world’s wise leaders had good reason to draw a veil over these processes from ordinary life. But anyone who wishes to seek the truth must not fear the true nature of what is at work in the depths of the soul and is always present there. That is why people speak of a sense of powerlessness that comes over one when, through inner concentration in one’s soul life, one has followed the path of spiritual research to a certain point. And once one has done everything necessary to continue on this path, the forces strengthen; one finally reaches the point of overcoming this inner powerlessness and living fully and consciously within the spiritual-soul realm—which has now separated itself from the physical-bodily realm and exists outside the body in the spiritual-soul realm. It must now be expressly emphasized that just as the spiritual researcher generally knows well what aspects of the scientific worldview contradict what he has to assert, so too does he know well the specific objections that can be raised against what he has to present.

[ 21 ] The spiritual researcher knows full well that someone with an external, medical, or scientific education might say: “Yes, we’re well aware of what you’re telling us—that when a person hypnotizes themselves or suggests a certain idea to themselves, they enter a state in which they then live in an abnormal state of consciousness, a pathological condition. But we also know that such a state cannot lead to anything healthy or to any true insight.” The spiritual researcher is well aware of the objections that science and those educated in the natural sciences might raise in this way. But those who raise such objections to spiritual science are unfamiliar with what spiritual research sets out to achieve—precisely so that the path known to physicians and natural scientists is not followed. For what the physician and the natural scientist know and characterize in the manner just discussed is precisely what the spiritual researcher avoids, because all of that is, in a certain sense, still bound to the body. The powerlessness that has been spoken of—all the turmoil that the soul undergoes—is experienced purely in the spiritual-soul realm; the physical body is not involved in this at all.

[ 22 ] Anyone familiar with the methods of spiritual research will find that what spiritual research presents as its methods—and what leads to the healing of the soul—is the opposite of what the physician or natural scientist believes to be the basis of this concentration and meditation. For everything that is experienced there is not experienced in the same way as a hypnotic state or suggestion; rather, it is based precisely on the soul-spiritual being becoming free from that which can be hypnotized or subjected to suggestion. That which is lulled to sleep when someone is put under hypnosis—that which is shut down when suggestive ideas are implanted in someone—is precisely what is enlivened and strengthened in spiritual science; and what is shut down is that which acts out, as in an automaton, what the hypnotist or the one giving suggestions intends. In hypnosis and suggestion, what is put to sleep is precisely what is awakened in spiritual science. I can only hint at all these things; you can read more about them in my books and in our literature in general.

[ 23 ] If the spiritual researcher continues on this path as described, he will come to a genuine experience of a spiritual-soul core. This spiritual-soul core could again be compared to something external; it could be compared to a plant seed that forms from the forces gradually rising within the plant, developing beyond the leaves and petals, and then becoming a new plant. In this way, spiritual science can speak of a spiritual-soul core in human beings. But here I must draw particular attention to the fact that the entire process of spiritual research is a process of cognition. What the spiritual researcher discovers is not brought about by his developing the methods within himself. All the methods he develops in this way lead to nothing new in the human soul, but only to a recognition of what is already present in the human soul. What the spiritual researcher discovers—we can say—is no different in any single respect from a plant seed simply because I look at it. Nor does what lies at the foundation of the soul—and is merely veiled for everyday life—change simply because the spiritual researcher applies his methods to his own soul. He merely looks at what is fundamentally present in the soul. It is, therefore, this spiritual-soul core at the very foundation of every human soul. The spiritual researcher merely discovers that he carries this spiritual-soul core within his soul, just as the plant seed grows from one plant to another.

[ 24 ] He knows that this is what passes through births and deaths, what existed in a spiritual-soul world before birth, what descended from the spiritual world; that it is not brought about by physical processes, but that it itself, by living in the body, works to shape the body; that it then, in turn, passes through the gate of death into a spiritual world, after having worked and woven itself into bodily life between birth and death. This is the essence of spiritual science: that this spiritual-soul core of the human being is truly beheld.

[ 25 ] If one continues this life of meditation and concentration—particularly in regard to the will—and carries on this intimate inner life, then one notices [yet] something else. However, it is necessary to approach the will with just as much inner vitality and intimacy as one approaches thoughts during meditation and concentration—in the focused manner just described. To clarify this, I would like to say the following. It is a simple matter, for these things always begin with something simple; the first steps follow on from ordinary life. Only when we energetically pursue the path with inner drive does the end result in that profound experience of which I have spoken.

[ 26 ] We can reflect on the simple question of where we actually stand in our destiny. After all, in everyday life we experience that whatever brings us joy, pain, self-denial, or courage to face life—we see these things coming to us through external circumstances. Essentially, in everyday life, people relate to these twists of fate in the same way they relate to natural phenomena. Those who have no understanding yet of the laws of nature see how the sun rises and sets, how the stars appear in the night sky—the processes that unfold independently of them; they do not seek a lawful connection in them, they merely observe them. Now, through scientific knowledge, human beings come to recognize laws in these successive facts and processes. If, in the course of human development, we have now reached the point where every educated person recognizes that external facts and natural processes can be understood through lawful connections, then we are only at the starting point of an era that will resolve to gain insight into what unfolds as so-called “fates of life” in such a way as to find a connection within them. How can this connection be found? Certainly not in such an abstract way that one searches for laws as in natural science and history. This also involves a surrender of the human-spiritual powers of inquiry. But, as I said, starting from the simple, we can clarify these two paths into the spiritual world.

[ 27 ] When we ask ourselves: What are we as human beings who can do this or that, who have acquired certain abilities? When we reflect on how we came to possess such abilities—how we acquired the things we can do—we will find ourselves returning to an earlier time in our present life. If we do not merely glance thoughtlessly over our lives, but truly immerse ourselves in these connections of life, we must admit to ourselves: I would not be able to do anything I can do now if it were not for the fact that, between the ages of ten and twenty, precisely these or those twists of fate had befallen me. It is because this or that event affected me and worked upon my soul that I have acquired these abilities. And if one follows this line of thought further, one comes to the realization that what one is is actually owed to one’s destiny—that what now constitutes our entire self has been brought together by destiny. What the self is to the world is what one is capable of. And one will find a deep connection between what one understands and what one once experienced as the vicissitudes of life. And if one engages in this line of thought not merely as an intellectual exercise, but with one’s whole soul—that is, feeling and inwardly willing, devoting one’s entire mind to this will—and immerses oneself in such a process of experience, then what one is—all of this—grows beyond oneself and into destiny. One says to oneself: Destiny is what carries us. Just as the sea carries the iceberg on its waves, so does the destiny we survey carry our very self forward. Our destiny has made it what it is now. This can be the beginning of such an inner experience.

[ 28 ] But if one does not simply let this inner experience flit by—as one is accustomed to doing in external life—but instead allows it to unfold again and again as a spiritual-soul experience, if one repeats it over and over, then the matter goes much further. Then a spiritual-psychic experience will arise from this that is independent of the body, just like the processes described earlier, only this experience is entirely different. It now shows us that we do not actually grow into our spiritual-psychic core, but must imagine ourselves growing together with the entire universe; we flow, as it were, out into our entire universe. And we discover our true self—not now within ourselves, but in the world outside, where we previously perceived only objects that are external to us. It is, once again, a long journey. So we realize that what we are otherwise accustomed to finding within ourselves, to receiving from the world, [we must lose]; we must truly lose ourselves in the way we always are, and we must receive ourselves anew from the spiritual world in which we now find ourselves.

[ 29 ] Even before this experience, human beings harbor an unconscious aversion deep within their souls. They feel a certain fear of having this experience, though they are not consciously aware of it. There is much within our souls that does not rise to the surface of our consciousness. But this fear, too, is veiled. For we discover how we could previously feel like a plant seed [gap in the text]. Whereas before, when one felt strong, one might have experienced a sense of powerlessness; now, however, one does not feel as if lifted up—that is, not as in the earlier exercise, as if losing the ground beneath one’s feet—but rather one feels enchanted, petrified, frozen; one feels how everything within us that is life seems to harden into stone, like a mass of stone that cannot move forward in worldly existence. Now one realizes that one is learning to distinguish more and more clearly: The rigidity reveals something that wants to continue onward even into death and which—as one can tell—wants to pass through the gate of death, to enter a spiritual world.

[ 30 ] There is something within us that assures us that our existence does not end with death, but—just as a plant carries within itself the seed of a new plant—carries within itself the seed of a future spiritual life, only to return once again to a new earthly life. What one experiences in this way can be described roughly as follows: In one year, one notices this rigidity; after a few years, one finds the results of one’s life even more rigid; after still more years, one experiences an even greater rigidity, and one finally discovers in what one experiences in this way that which one brought in from the spiritual world at birth; what one has brought over from previous earthly lives into this life and what is breaking away, being consumed in the present life; what is driven to form the body between birth and death, to fill the ordinary life between birth and death. One experiences how, at the depths of the soul in the subconscious, that which lies before the present earthly life collides with that which will lie after it. And one perceives, at the depths of the soul, the powerlessness of that which cannot yet live, struggling against that which can no longer live.

[ 31 ] And when one discovers this struggle deep within one’s soul, that is when one begins to understand what human life truly is. That is when one begins to realize that, while human life does indeed bring us the things we value above all else in ordinary human existence, But at the same time, one realizes that these goods—everything we experience while awake—are built upon a struggle that rages in the depths of the soul. At first, the difficult part is seeing it—seeing this struggle. And when a philosopher speaks of the limits of knowledge, he does not really know what he is talking about. What is he talking about? That which I have described as an approaching powerlessness that one does not want to let overcome oneself; that which I have described as a fear from which one recoils—this does not rise into consciousness; the philosopher does not want to let it rise. He does everything to suppress it, and he masks this by saying: Human beings cannot know the world. One cannot know it without taking the path through powerlessness and fear. But this path is to be avoided. And by refusing to admit this to oneself, one asserts: Human knowledge cannot go further than where Kant described its limits.

[ 32 ] But the true reason for setting the limits of knowledge lies in what I have just explained. But when one truly looks at what is taking place at the depths of the soul, one does not encounter a timid or despondent view of life; rather, one knows that this life—even the most ordinary life that the simplest person might lead—is based on the fact that an infinite amount is taking place within their soul. Yes, the life we apply in thinking, feeling, and willing for our everyday activities must be brought about through spiritual and soul forces lying below the threshold of consciousness in a genuine struggle; it must be won through a great, mighty victory. The fact that we, as human beings, can live between birth and death is due to the victory of the forces that reign within us as has been described. The path of spiritual research is one of self-denial. But the result is such that it strengthens our souls, because we experience inwardly that we could not be human unless spiritual powers unknown to us had to accomplish something mighty in order to lead us to what we are in everyday life.

[ 33 ] We cultivate trust, faith, and hope as strengths of the soul when we allow the insights of spiritual research to take effect within us. And the objection—which might consist, for example, in saying, “Yes, but only the spiritual researcher can experience all of this”—is not valid. No, that is not the case. Just as the chemist conducts his experiments in the laboratory without other people present, so too does the spiritual researcher conduct those experiments—the kinds just described—in his spiritual-soul laboratory. And just as the chemist makes the results of his research available for the benefit of the general public, so the spiritual researcher can present the results of his research to his fellow human beings in an appropriate manner. And just as one need not be a chemist to benefit from the products and their uses that the chemist produces, so one need not be a spiritual researcher to understand—I say “understand,” not merely “benefit from” —that the spiritual researcher produces in his spiritual laboratory, provided one overcomes the prejudices that arise from clinging to habitual ways of thinking.

[ 34 ] That is precisely what must be said time and again: To explore these things, to look into what weaves and stirs behind life, one needs spiritual research. But once these things have been explored and presented by the spiritual scientist in the language of everyday speech, it is only the prejudice one has acquired through conventional science that keeps telling one: “That is not true.” For spiritual science appeals to that which, as a natural sense of truth, is not merely instilled in human beings but is innate. And the time will come—it will most certainly come—when people will not understand that there was once resistance to the findings of spiritual science. Then they will say to themselves: “Yes, the only reason people did not understand what the spiritual researchers said—what they presented to the public as the results of their research—was that they were accustomed, through scientific methods that had become commonplace, to accepting only what was called “scientific,” and that they were unwilling to engage in unbiased reflection on what the spiritual researchers said. That is the only reason why it was not understood.

[ 35 ] Although—as you can read in my book *How Does One Gain Insight into the Higher Worlds?* — anyone can become a spiritual researcher to a certain degree, at least to the extent that, through the inner development of the soul, they can recognize as true what the spiritual researcher discovers on their path; yet they need not actually be one. Rather, through ordinary, sound common sense—provided it is not clouded by prejudice—one can understand what spiritual research has to say. And the spiritual researcher must say for himself: He immerses himself in the way spiritual culture has developed in the world, and then knows that truth and the knowledge of truth will find their way through all prejudices. Today, anyone who clings to the conventional notions of science may quite understandably come forward and say: “Yes, what such a fanciful spiritual researcher says goes against common sense and the five healthy senses!” Yes, when Copernicus came along and declared: “The Earth moves, not the Sun; the Earth moves around the Sun; the Earth does not stand still and is not orbited by the Sun and the stars, but that this is merely an illusion created by the Earth’s movement”—it was the case that this contradicted what the five healthy senses had always believed up to that point. Even the external worldview could only be built upon the premise that one no longer trusted the five senses. Humanity has grown accustomed to this as well, even if it took a long time. And so it will also have to grow accustomed to what spiritual science has to proclaim. One can recall what Giordano Bruno said when, in his deeply sensitive soul, he contemplated what Copernicus had brought to humanity; one can recall how he said: “You humans look up and see the blue vault of heaven. But it is not really there; rather, because your sense of sight functions in a certain way, you yourselves create the blue firmament. In doing so, you set limits for yourselves. Space, however, extends into infinity. It is your own vision that is to blame for the existence of the blue firmament. And embedded in infinite space are an infinite number of worlds. As Giordano Bruno asserted, this caused a stir.

[ 36 ] And just as Giordano Bruno spoke regarding space, so must the spiritual researcher say today: That which human beings set as a boundary is like a temporal firmament. In reality, there is no boundary, just as there is no boundary to the blue firmament. Rather, the human imagination sets its own limits. But just as space extends across countless worlds, so does time expand as it unfolds. And embedded in the flow of time are humanity’s successive earthly lives, of which Lessing himself spoke—in the ripest fruit of his life—as if in a spiritual testament. The so-called wise people say: Yes, Lessing certainly wrote many significant works, but then he grew old, and that’s when he came up with this convoluted idea of repeated earthly lives. This is the very method by which even the greatest minds are judged; what is the supreme flowering of a great mind is regarded as a product of decadence in old age. But that which arose as a truth within Lessing’s own spirit will not merely provide external benefit; above all, it will possess a life-affirming power. It will give the increasingly complex inner lives of human beings the opportunity to find their way into this life that we see approaching and that will become ever more complex. People will need insights from the spiritual sciences as the foundation for the inner experience that will guide them in the future through circumstances that are becoming ever more difficult.

[ 37 ] Spiritual science will stand alongside scientific research. The spirit will be explored in this way. For just as we have the sensory world and the natural processes around us in this physical body, so too, in relation to the spiritual-soul body, we have a spiritual world around us and belong to a spiritual world in which we live during the time that elapses between death and a new birth—a time that is also part of our life. This spiritual science aims to be a science not merely for the intellect, not merely for external inquiry, but a science for the whole human being, for the human soul. It will fill the soul with what is the elixir of life. Alongside the sensory-physical world, human beings will come to know the spiritual world as it truly is. Through this, however, all merely dark, dreamlike notions about the spiritual world will be dispelled. For the best way to combat superstition is to truly get to know the spiritual world and to form genuine concepts of the world of the spirit.

[ 38 ] And if, on the other hand, it is said that spiritual science endangers religious ideas and feelings, then one must reply that it is precisely the scientific worldview that has led some people away from their religious feelings. But spiritual science leads us precisely to the recognition of a spiritual world. Therefore, spiritual science—the science of the spirit—will lead precisely those people who have become estranged from religious thought, or who may become estranged from it, back to religious thought and feeling. The course of world history cannot be held back by force; rather, it follows its own path. And just as it was once believed that the Copernican worldview might somehow endanger religious life—so that religion set itself up as an adversary—so must it do the same in our present age against the spiritual-scientific worldview. Yet, just as the Copernican worldview has become established, so too will the spiritual-scientific worldview take root in people’s souls without disrupting religious life. Indeed, one will even be able to say in response to the spiritual-scientific worldview: When people come and say, “Isn’t spiritual science waging a campaign against religious beliefs?” And when all manner of things—even going so far as slander and the spreading of falsehoods—are brought up against spiritual science from that side, one might say: What kind of conception do those who, so to speak, are professionally involved in those communities—perhaps even holding an office there—have of the power of this religion, if they can believe that spiritual science might endanger it! The one who truly stands within the belief in the power of his religious ideas is the one who says: “The power of religion is so great that we need not fear spiritual science; we can welcome what is true in this field just as we have welcomed the findings of natural science—indeed, even more so. Spiritual science will, in turn, lead many people back to faith, to religious experience, and to religious feeling, just as the scientific worldview has alienated many people from religion.”

[ 39 ] The point this evening is not merely to present to you ideas that, in a sense, reflect a certain kind of knowledge, but rather to show how spiritual science can touch our entire soul, our entire mind; how it can give people strength in their experiences—a strength that fortifies the soul and gives courage; how a person can be filled with something that radiates from the experiences of spiritual science, how they can draw strength from it to face life with greater strength and vigor.

[ 40 ] As I have already said: Even the most ordinary life is a victory over opposing forces deep within the soul. If we come to realize that we have such forces at the very depths of our souls, then we can face with courage whatever challenges will arise in our lives in ever more complex ways. When we realize that life means winning victories that lie beneath the threshold, we gain the strength of soul we need to face life’s bitter disappointments and also to meet the demands of a time as fateful as our own. And even if what I have said in general about spiritual science—about the possibility of supersensible knowledge—seems, on the surface, to be only loosely connected, inwardly you will feel that it is closely linked to what our fateful days bring us, in the midst of which we are living, I would nevertheless like to move on to a very brief, concise description of what the spiritual scientist may feel in the face of this fateful time of ours.

[ 41 ] When one observes, on the one hand, how the life we lead may not outwardly be all that turbulent or chaotic, yet is built upon a hidden, stormy foundation, then one also positions oneself differently within the storm of historical life when it is stirred up as it is in our day.

[ 42 ] Now I would first like to draw attention to something that arises—not theoretically, but intuitively—from the findings of spiritual science with regard to historical life, specifically regarding the placement of the human being within historical life. It must be emphasized that the natural-scientific worldview—and even more so the spiritual science—has sought to apply what is called causal thinking to our surroundings. It took a long time for people to become accustomed to this causal thinking. Goethe once remarked: Why do people always insist on claiming that an ox has horns in order to use them to butt? One should observe the organism and show how the forces of growth have developed into the horns. One should look at the causes and not always speak of the purpose alone. The greatest geniuses of the modern way of thinking have pointed this out, and the natural sciences are increasingly moving in this direction as well. And the spiritual sciences focus even more on the causes—on the unknown causes. But it is precisely by thinking causally about what is taking place that one is led to this; in the living experience of the results of spiritual science, it becomes a feeling. When observing what unfolds as events, what matters is not so much to ask about the causes as to ask about the effects. It is, so to speak, as if we were saying: We are in the midst of immense events, the likes of which have, in essence, never before occurred in world history—at least not as long as human thought has been conscious. For today, if we disregard minor tribal differences, 34 different nations of the world are fighting one another. What a storm is being stirred up! And we know, of course, what individual nations think of one another, say about one another, and claim about one another. But spiritual research leads us—and the findings of the spiritual sciences lead us—to say, first of all: From unknown depths rises a wave of historical becoming, just as from unknown depths thinking, willing, and feeling themselves arise.

[ 43 ] We are not aware of the subconscious inner struggles we carry within us, but in history we experience conflicting forces; we live right in the midst of them. In the outer world, we find ourselves in a situation that spiritual research reveals to us as the inner life of the individual human being. And just as we, because we go about our daily lives, [gap in the text] as if we were standing right in the midst of the struggles down there—do you think we would not ask about the cause of the struggle, but rather: What might come of it? The struggle as such would not be able to present itself to our souls in [gap in the text] any way. If we compare these struggles [gap in the text], we would not be satisfied unless we said: Yes, these struggles develop what a human being first becomes, what first comes to consciousness in thinking, feeling, and sensibility. And when we find ourselves in the midst of historical struggles, we are led to ask: What will become of these struggles? And indeed, the rhetoric that confronts us today from our materialistic age—because we have not yet acquired the kinds of feelings I have just described—the rhetoric that has arisen today—“Who is to blame for the war?” —which always ends with one nation shifting the blame onto another—fades away as fruitless in the face of the perspective chosen, where one says: Well, these events are simply there; they have arisen in the course of the world’s development; what consequences might arise from these struggles, what might result when over thirty nations of the world are waging war against one another? And here one must say: When such events confront one another, what matters—when one is in the midst of them—is that one can observe them impartially. And that is possible in Central Europe. For just as the unfolding of the world plays out in the eyes of the spiritual researcher, so he can say: This Central European spiritual life, which is now under siege as if in a mighty fortress, is one that, through these struggles with opposing forces, develops into a valuable, universal good.

[ 44 ] Now I could cite many examples to describe what is alive—one might say—in the body of Central European spiritual life, which has produced the great geniuses of Central Europe, with the forces that Central Europe possesses and which once found expression in genuine spiritual deeds, but which today find expression in the fields where blood and death decide the fate of soul and body. From all of this—since one recognizes things by their blossoms and fruits—I would like to characterize this Central European spiritual life by highlighting that which is present at the very core of existence throughout this Central European spiritual life, among all Central European nations.

[ 45 ] One of the most characteristic figures of Central Europe is undoubtedly Goethe. Others could also be mentioned, but let us single out Goethe. One must admit that what was bestowed upon humanity from the deepest innermost being of the genius Goethe—that such a thing could not be produced by people living outside Central Europe—just as one must also admit what must be said in connection with what follows.

[ 46 ] What Goethe gave to humanity is evident precisely in his greatness—in the fact that, even as a young man, he had already captured the mood found at the beginning of his *Faust*:

Alas! I have now studied philosophy,
law, and medicine,
and, unfortunately, theology as well,
with the utmost diligence.
So here I stand, poor fool that I am,
and I am just as wise as before!

[ 47 ] Today, these words have become trivial to many people. But if one truly puts oneself in Goethe’s shoes, one can truly sense the entire relationship to what one can acquire and what one wishes to acquire in the words [referring to] the Earth Spirit.

[ 48 ] But where does Goethe stand in all this? Let’s take this mood, and now—since Goethe wrote this down—let’s think about the period that followed, when the great philosophical geniuses swept through Central Europe: Fichte, Hegel, Schelling; we need not agree with the content of their teachings; but if one looks at the great intellectual energy with which Fichte advocates what he teaches as philosophy; if one looks at how what he teaches emanates from his entire personality; how he strives for philosophy to be, at the same time, an expression of the whole human being.

[ 49 ] The following is said not to evoke sentimental feelings, but to illustrate how, in Fichte, one aspect of the Central European genius comes to the fore. It is worth describing how Fichte, who felt closely connected to the great events unfolding on his people’s battlefields, came to his end. How he—who throughout his entire life had focused his thoughts with the utmost intensity on uncovering the mysteries of the world—lived in a feverish delirium during his final hours, witnessing Blücher’s crossing of the Rhine, and how he shared in everything that had to happen at that time to save Central Europe from Western tyranny. In his feverish delirium, Fichte felt himself right in the midst of these events—he, the philosopher, who was at the same time a complete human being, a human being who, even in his feverish delirium, continued to bring “humanity” into his philosophy. Thus, with regard to Fichte, it can be said: Here the Central European spirit strives for a holistic worldview, and in Schelling, in Hegel—one need only look at how truth is presented there.

[ 50 ] And let us now look back at this Faust, whom Goethe has speak in the middle of the eighteenth century:

Alas, I have now studied philosophy,
law, and medicine,
and, unfortunately, theology as well!
I have studied them all thoroughly, with great effort.
And here I stand, poor fool that I am!
And I am just as wise as I was before.

[ 51 ] Let us suppose that Goethe had been able to live into the 1840s, after the great philosophers had come and gone with the passage of time; let us suppose that he had begun his *Faust* in the 1840s, after [he] had passed through the culture of his time, through the achievements of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. After all, they were truly representatives of jurisprudence as well; Hegel wrote a work on “natural law,” Schelling a journal on medicine—in truth, all these philosophers wanted to be theologians. Do you think that if Goethe had written these words in the 1840s, after so much had already taken place in German intellectual life, he would have written: “I have now, thank God, studied philosophy and jurisprudence under Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Kant, and now stand here, thank God, as a wise man, and am as wise as no one before me could ever have been!” No, Goethe would most certainly have written the same thing at the beginning of his *Faust* in the 1840s as he did in the 1770s.

Alas! I have now studied philosophy,
law, and medicine,
and, unfortunately, theology as well
with great diligence.
So here I stand, poor fool that I am,

and I am just as wise as before!

[ 52 ] This is what is distinctive about Central European intellectual life: this Faustian striving, best recognized in its representatives—this perpetual striving without ever having the awareness of being a “finisher.” This is what made Fichte so great, emerging from Central European intellectual culture—he shows us that within this culture, people must live who can never be finished, never reach completion in their development. And one can certainly say: In Italy, in France, one is born as what one is. One is Italian, one is French, and one claims what one was born to be. In Central Europe, one cannot say that. There, one must discover through one’s own way of thinking what it means to be human. There, one moves beyond what one was born to be toward what one can achieve oneself. And it is a profound statement, Goethe’s words:

What you have inherited from your fathers,
Acquire it so that you may possess it.

[ 53 ] And the other word:

Whoever strives with all their might,
We can save them.

[ 54 ] This is a characteristic—and indeed the most significant characteristic—of this Central European intellectual life: never to rest, never to stand still. One becomes a Central European. One is French, one is British—one becomes a Central European! This Central European intellectual culture stands before people as a magnificent ideal. This is why it is so intimately related to what has today come to be known as spiritual science. And when Faust says—and Goethe wrote these words only at a ripe old age—words that express the entire relationship of the human being to the world around them and, in turn, to themselves:

Sublime Spirit, you gave me, gave me everything,
That I asked for. You did not in vain
Turn your face toward me in the fire.
You gave me the magnificent natural world as my kingdom,
The power to feel it, to enjoy it. You do not
do you merely allow me to be a cold, marveling visitor,
but grant me to gaze into its deep bosom,
as into the bosom of a friend.
You lead the procession of the living
past me, and teach me to know my brothers
in the quiet thicket, in the air and water.
And when the storm roars and creaks in the forest,
The giant spruce, crashing down, sweeps aside neighboring branches
And neighboring trunks, crushing them as it falls,
And the hill thunders with a dull, hollow roar at its fall,
Then you lead me to the safe cave, show
Me to myself, and within my own breast
Secret, profound wonders unfold.

[ 55 ] There stands Faust. There stands this striving, which must think vividly even before the universe, and it finds in the universe outside not only matter, not only substances, but everywhere the sustaining force of what is within us. Spirit—the human spirit—rises into other beings everywhere. But this striving also directs human beings back to themselves, so that one must find oneself. When one surveys all of this, one must say: Oh, this Central European spiritual life—it has so far revealed itself as containing the seeds of what we can today intuit as the very goals of a spiritual science. This Central European spiritual life cannot be destroyed by its enemies. For whoever understands its nature knows that it still has much to accomplish in the world, that it is not only growing and justified outwardly, but that it is strong within. And one can and may sense how spiritual science finds precisely the right soil in this Central European spiritual life. For that which is Central European [gap in the text]—when applied to the soul—cannot but lead to a deepening of spiritual science. Therefore, one may say: If, in the past centuries—predominantly materialistic centuries—conquests were made by a region of the Earth’s inhabitants other than Europe, then it is precisely those [gap in the text] made by the Central European population that must now be made, because mysteriously behind all that we see unfolding so painfully around us today lies the urge to create a sanctuary for the spirit by defending Central European culture as if it were a mighty fortress against its enemies.

[ 56 ] There are people in the Northwest today who claim that they must stand up for the freedom of smaller nations, for the welfare of smaller nations, and that they must rise up against Central European militarism and Central Europe’s thirst for conquest. The British, who were primarily destined to spread a material culture across the globe, waged 34 wars of conquest [from 1856 to 1900], in which they conquered 4 million [square miles of land] and made 57 million people British subjects. One need only reflect on these figures to realize how much truth there may be in the assertion that one wishes to eliminate Central European expansionism from the world. This is not even meant as a value judgment. But it must be said: It is evident from Central European intellectual culture that it will develop the spiritual as the result of what must now be fought for with blood, what must be achieved through so many sacrifices, what must be born out of so much suffering.

[ 57 ] It has often been claimed that the current war is a purely political war and that it is being waged by individual countries out of material interests. One can see how even material campaigns of conquest take on a Faustian character, and that what resonates with us so characteristically as a Central European mood from the poetry of *Faust* is incorporated not merely as external knowledge but as a mindset regarding the development of humanity and the world. Yes, there, as in a blossom, one can discern that which lives in Central European culture—namely, what Goethe revealed on the heights of humanity, and for which people are fighting today in both the East and the West. For just as the hand must be counted as part of the human being, just as the brain must be, so too must those fighting out there be counted as the spiritual expression of the entire people. This is a single organism. Just as the hand cannot be separated from the head, so too can what is being carried out out there—at the cost of blood and lives—not be conceived of separately from what lives spiritually in Central European culture.

[ 58 ] A French philosopher, highly regarded in many circles today, gave a lecture just this past Christmas in which he said that everything in Germany had become materialistic. He claimed that the old idealism had long since faded away and that everywhere one encountered only intellectual products in the form of warlike mechanisms. Although he could not deny that French mechanistic tools are also at work, he could not get enough of sharply criticizing the Central European mindset, which, he argued, had now become entirely materialistic. This French philosopher—well, I don’t know if one is still allowed to call him “Bergson” today; the name doesn’t exactly sound French, so perhaps he has already “Frenchified” it by now—one really ought to reply to him: “Yes, do you really recognize the Central European spirit in these mechanisms of war?” Did you perhaps expect the soldiers to come and recite Novalis, Goethe, or Schiller instead of firing cannons and rifles? — In general, there isn’t much logic to be found in the documents about the current situation. It’s quite evident that they are very keen to prove: Ultimately, the Germans alone are to blame for the war; they wanted it! But this logic is no more valid than the other—the argument that, through strict logic, one can prove that the Germans are indeed, to a certain extent, even to blame for the war’s severe and cruel course. After all, they invented gunpowder! Had they not done so, it could not be used today. One certainly cannot claim that the French invented gunpowder. One could certainly find many such examples. They are truly everywhere in the logic of our time. One might also say: Without the art of printing—which was also invented in Central Europe—it would not be possible today to print those peculiar “truths” that are now flooding Central Europe from the British and French press.

[ 59 ] In this way, however, one could say that Central European culture is to blame for all of this. In this materialistic age, people are simply clouded by a short-sighted logic. This is evident everywhere. In contrast, it must be emphasized that this does not represent the true character of Central European culture. Regarding this character—the very core of Central European culture—one must say that it appears only in embryonic form. One perceives it, when one contemplates its ongoing influence, as it bears ever more fruit and as it is destined to kindle idealism, spiritualism, and the spiritual life of humanity. And one then realizes how it sustains the soul, precisely through the contexts provided by spiritual science. Thus one could also say: Spiritual science appears as a fruit that one can intuit for the future and that must develop from what is the deepest, innermost essence of Central European culture. That is why the feeling born of spiritual science gives Central Europeans strength, confidence, hope, and faith in what our fateful times hold in store. This faith can arise from what spiritual science offers when it takes hold of the entire soul.

[ 60 ] Therefore, in closing, I would like to summarize—not in an abstract way, but based on my own experience—what I have already discussed at length in this all-too-prolonged examination. For this is the best that spiritual science can offer: that it does not ultimately boil down to mere knowledge, nor to a list of this or that law, but that what one can know through it is concentrated into a fundamental feeling that places the human being in the world in such a way that he knows: You do not merely stand in a physical universe through your body, but you stand within a soul-spiritual universe with your immortal, eternal self. Through births and deaths, you have come to know death as life-giving. With this feeling, the person who understands spiritual science goes through life—inspired by the soul, hopeful, and also full of strength—with the feeling that I would now like to present to your souls at the conclusion, summarizing this evening’s reflection:

Where sensory knowledge ends,
There stands the gate,
Which opens up the realities of life
To the soul.
The soul forges the key,
when it grows strong within itself
in the struggle that the powers of the world
wage upon their own ground
with human forces,
when it drives out through itself
the delusion of the powers of knowledge
within the limits of the senses
enveloped in spiritual darkness.