The Rudolf Steiner Archive

24. On Scotus Eriugena

[Ladies and gentlemen!]

[ 1 ] Of course, this can only be a kind of artificially induced, provisional conclusion, brought about by the fact that I still have to discuss the theosophical-mystical perspective of Scotus Eriugena.

[ 2 ] I have decided to examine this figure because, on the one hand, he represents the culmination of the Christian scholarship that preceded him and, on the other hand, he serves as the starting point for what is actually known as the Christian Middle Ages.

[ 3 ] Scotus Eriugena clearly shows us that what is called the Christian worldview was by no means as firmly established as it was later regarded to be, even well into the ninth century. There was not such a clear consensus on what constituted genuine, true Christianity that it would have been impossible for someone of such a mindset to hold views on the Church’s Christian teachings that differed from those of the majority.

[ 4 ] However, this is indeed the great struggle that the centralized Catholic Church is waging against such views. Christian doctrine is [still] fluid in every respect. Debates are still taking place on how the various dogmas should be interpreted. In the work of Scotus Eriugena, it is clear that, at that time, one could still interpret the Bible freely. He is a thoroughly theosophical interpreter of the Bible. He cites passages from the Old and New Testaments as symbols of spiritual processes alongside their historical aspects. He selects those symbols and interpretations that best correspond to his own views. This free practice gradually faded [over time] within the Catholic Church, fading more and more. The administratively prescribed faith is asserting itself more and more. It had, however, been preserved as a tradition that only those who had attained a certain high level of spiritual life were called to interpret the Bible and the teachings of the Church. I do not believe it would be easy to prove that interpretations of Scripture that were downright lay-like could have gained acceptance; I do not believe that anyone would have dared to criticize dogma who had not already done so through his pursuit of wisdom. Belief in authority was taken for granted. What, for example, Saint Augustine had written and said was not regarded as the opinion of a single individual, but as a teaching given to us through the indwelling power of wisdom in such a person. These views must be understood in terms of their intended meaning.

[ 5 ] Those who were later condemned, those who were branded as heretics, grew out of the body of thought that the Church preserved—a body of thought that first had to permeate anyone who even ventured into such matters, anyone who believed they were called to engage with the Church’s interpretation and its doctrines.

[ 6 ] It would be wrong to try to compare the philosophy of Scotus Eriugena with any other. It can only be understood within Christianity and within that context. It must also be viewed in this way, and not, for example, as might be the case with Giordano Bruno. I have already mentioned a person who lived in the first century and left behind writings. [I am referring to the works of the “Pseudo-Dionysius,” whose author is said to have lived in Athens with the Apostle Paul.] We know that these writings represent a mystical exploration. Toward the end of the fifth century, the realization emerged that these were ancient teachings. They must be understood as such. The teachings can be traced back to the time when the Gospel of John and the Book of Revelation were written. It is likely that the founder of the [Athenian] school was the one who taught them.

[ 7 ] Finally, we come to the point where wisdom ceases to be wisdom, where it must become part of life. This is a perspective that underlies Gnosis. It strives to transform wisdom into immediate life. The practical significance of Gnosticism lies in bringing the spirit down into the material world. This view, in turn, has as its counterpart the view that wisdom cannot be attained through the mere pursuit of wisdom alone, but only the prospect of it.

[ 8 ] A distinction is made here between two views: “positive theology” and “negative theology.” The primary source of the former is sensory perception. We see, hear, and feel this being, this thing; this thing has such and such properties. Negative theology, however, says: Behind what we see, hear, and so on lies the original source of existence. Nothing can lead us to fully comprehend it; it is only [inner] life that guides us on the path to comprehending that original existence.

[ 9 ] This is the path to the heights of mystical knowledge, as opposed to external scientific knowledge. Positive theology—which thus truly has something to say to human beings—is only a down payment. Negative theology arises precisely because human beings are compelled to acknowledge that there is something hidden in the depths of existence. Thus, it is precisely where the realization of one’s own inadequacy emerges, where the justification for doubt awakens, and where the sense arises that knowledge is merely a crutch in the striving to advance toward divinity—it is through this that negative theology arises.

[ 10 ] You cannot attain divinity through concepts or through the intellect. If you imagine divinity as a personality, then you will see divinity in the super-personal, as a being in the super-essential, as perfection in the super-perfect! It is most remarkable that the West could have been taken by surprise by the term “superman,” which we encounter so often today. In the writings of Dionysius, we encounter a term that lifts us much higher, for he speaks not merely of the “superman,” but of the “super-God.” This stands in contrast to the God who is human-like, in contrast to what was then called “positive theology”—the life-affirming theology that lay behind the negative one. Nicholas of Cusa said—after he had acquired all the knowledge that science could offer him, after it had dawned on him during a voyage across the great sea how the spiritual eye must become clear in a single glance—that these are not expressions of something that exists, but merely symbols that can awaken a perspective within us.

[ 11 ] These writings by Dionysius the Areopagite were given to Louis the Pious by their Greek owners and have been in Paris ever since. When Scotus Eriugena was favorably received by Charles the Bald, he was commissioned—as he was one of the few who knew Greek—to translate these writings. In this way, he immersed himself in the spirit of the early Christian centuries, and thus we see a Christian-infused theosophy emerge in his works. The writings of Augustine supported him in this endeavor. They were of great help to monks and priests—and to the Church as a whole.

[ 12 ] What is completely absent in [Augustine]—and what was likely still present among the Gnostics of the first centuries, but which the Christian Church did not preserve—is the awareness of a profound individuality and any reference to the transmigration of souls. Nothing is interposed between the personality and the deity. Augustine had to attribute every human characteristic, so to speak, to the will of the Deity. He could say nothing [else], since he knew nothing of a profound individuality. What appears in me as my own personality is the result of what extends backward and forward. But [Augustine] must attribute this to the will of the Deity. Thus we establish a boundary between the divinity and the will of the individual. And this gives rise to the [so-called predestination] controversy. On the one hand, we have those who will be saved, and on the other, those who are not permitted to enter into divinity: despite the immense love, the terrible is also carried out. Thus, dualism.

[ 13 ] It was immensely difficult to promote such a doctrine within the Church. One need only imagine that this doctrine could only be defended in the face of a broad-minded outlook; it was impossible to defend it before the congregations. Nevertheless, it is well established within the Church that Augustine’s wisdom set the tone. This [radical] doctrine of predestination could not be maintained, so efforts were made to conceal and soften this harsh, cruel teaching. It was said: There is no doubt that, from the very beginning, sinners were predestined for eternal damnation and the righteous for bliss; but then the possibility was introduced that a shift [to the other side] could take place. In short, they sought to escape the dilemma. The only way out, which is provided by the transmigration of souls, was now sought to be bridged through the half-measures of Augustinian doctrine. It was at the court of Charles the Bald in France that [Gottschalk], a French monk, spoke out against this half-heartedness of the Augustinian doctrine. Although he did not name Augustine, he nevertheless fully espoused his views and once again taught the entire Augustinian doctrine [of absolute predestination].

[ 14 ] Scotus Eriugena was then asked [about the correctness of this doctrine], first by the Church and then by his lord, Charles the Bald. Gottschalk had been publicly flogged. He was flogged in [Mainz at the Synod of 848 A.D. and in Quierzy at the Synod of 849 A.D.]. A treatise had been written against him concerning predestination. It stated that Gottschalk should have been burned at the stake, that he should have been dealt with by fire and sword—the heresy trials did not begin until much later. Thus, the only options were condemnation or public flogging.

[ 15 ] Scotus Eriugena took a stand against Gottschalk. Nevertheless, he emphasized that the doctrine prevailing in the Church was not the correct one either. He himself then went on to state that, in fact, in grand-scale natures, the theosophical-mystical element always and again breaks through. He said that only in a view that places the divine beyond the world—and where the divine does not permeate the entire world—that is, only in such a doctrine, could Augustine be misunderstood. From such a deepening of understanding, we see Scotus Eriugena’s significant work On the Division of Nature emerge. The flow of the divine permeates the world. However, the divine must be sought in the world at various levels. He advocates a kind of pantheism of which Böhme would say that it does not confuse the world with the divine, but rather evaluates it by stating: Worldly things are indeed the divine, but not in such a way that one can find it in individual things. These merely lead to it; they are the guides [to the divine]. We also see in Scotus Eriugena, in contrast to Augustine’s teaching, the concern that he expresses: If one part of the world were indeed to be regarded as evil, as a deviation from the primordial Good and the primordial Beautiful—if it were a dualism between good and evil—then it would be impossible for the Divine to permeate the world, for the Divine would then also have to be present in evil. But then evil would be a manifestation of the Divine—or one would have to speak of the Divine’s powerlessness.

[ 16 ] Anyone who has gained insight into the depths of the whole of the world cannot possibly recognize two world powers in this way or conceive of the world as being structured in this manner. He must conceive of the world as being structured in a unified way, so that what we regard as error must be grounded in a [unified] manner. He cannot assume that the Divine has designated a part for ugliness; he can only assume that the Divine has determined the world’s goal and purpose; he can only assume that the beautiful and the ugly merely appear—that the world is not the Divine itself, not the essence existing in unfathomable divinity, but rather that the Divine has poured itself out into the world. Evil arises from diversity, from multiplicity. It has existence only insofar as we express it in earthly terms; it appears to us as evil only because [we do not see through the world as Maya, as an illusion]

[ 17 ] Jakob Böhme has a concept that bears a strong resemblance to this. He compares the world to an organism. Every single part is alive. The hand is just as necessary to the whole organism as the foot or any other part of it. It is what it is only in relation to the organism. If the hand is separated from the organism, it dies; it is no longer a hand; it must be permeated by the life force of the organism to function as a hand. Thus, diversity is good only insofar as it is connected to the original source. Can this prevent one hand from harming the other? Because the organism consists of parts, it is possible for parts to come into conflict with one another. Thus, disharmony is not rooted [in the organism]. However, it can arise when the organism appears to us as a manifold. Once the parts of the manifold have returned to unity, then no disharmony can arise, and the forces can no longer be turned against one another. As long as the world is a multiplicity, its parts will continue to turn against one another. Even though the whole is good and in harmony, disharmony remains possible. If we could see through time and space at a single glance, then every individual thing that appears evil to us would prove to be good, and every disharmony would be resolved in the harmony of the whole. We perceive only a part because we ourselves are a member of this diversity. Thus, for Scotus Eriugena, this doubt is resolved by his acceptance not of God’s dominion, but of God’s incorporation into the world. Consequently, evil too must be merely an apparent reality, and this is necessarily so because God assumed matter.

[ 18 ] Scotus Eriugena analyzes nature into four parts, four forms of existence, by examining the teachings of Augustine:

[ 19 ] First, into that which cannot be reached—the uncreated, creative nature—which we truly possess only when we tell ourselves: No concepts are sufficient to reach that which underlies everything.

[ 20 ] The second is the emergence from the [un-]created: nature both created and creating. These were, for him, the eternal spiritual forces. They are both creative and created. What Plato calls the world of Ideas—that which symbolizes unity for us—has been unfolded into multiplicity. This world spirit, this universal soul, this spirituality that permeates the worlds, which is manifold, which is unfolded into intelligence and non-intelligence—but in a spiritual sense— in short, this entire Platonic world of Ideas, which underlies our world as a spiritual realm—these primal foundations of existence, those thoughts that lived within the Deity as archetypes, the eternal primal thoughts of the Deity—we conceive of the Ideas, but they were first lived out within the Deity—they are the “Word.” The things of nature are created according to the archetypes of this Word. He equates it with the eternal Son of the Deity. Infinite wisdom, the wise Spirit: this is, for him, the Son, the second being, which, as he puts it, stands to the first being as the Son stands to the Father. This relationship then attained a historical personality—Jesus: Jesus Christ. This Christ is an existence free from desire, an existence beyond the world of desires and the senses; he can be wisdom without will and once came into the world, says Scotus Eriugena.

[ 21 ] Then comes the third level of nature’s forms of existence: nature that is created but does not create. Human beings, who have taken on matter, are neither created nor creators, but simply exist.

[ 22 ] The fourth stage is the nature that is neither created nor creating. The divine nature is their goal, to which all beings return in their eternal bliss, resting within themselves. For the deity, the process of the world is, in the most eminent sense of the word, a return to itself. [All beings] are permeated by the deity, where they rest in bliss within themselves. They should regard this as their goal.

[ 23 ] Thus, Scotus Eriugena stands before us as a theosophical interpreter of Christianity in the West. It also strikes us as theosophical that, in a seven-stage ascent, he charts for humanity the path they should strive to follow toward union with the Divine.

[ 24 ] He thus distinguishes four natural powers. By the first he means God as the foundation of creation; by the second, the Platonic world of ideas; by the third, the physical world; and by the fourth, God as the ultimate purpose of creation. That is why he calls the process “return,” “reversio,” and “deificatio.” For him, the entire process is the return of unity to unity, which merely transforms from a creative state to a non-creative one.

[ 25 ] The entities undergoing the process of evolution go through it in seven stages. People who are engaged in theosophical pursuits and theosophical studies always reach these seven stages.

[ 26 ] The first level is the body. The second level is that which animates the body—the life force flowing through it. At the third level, the senses are animated. From this springs the animal soul. Within the senses, the spirit then awakens as the fourth stage. The higher stages, which are no longer bound to the elements or to the senses, are contained within this; thus, fifth: receptivity to the spiritual realm that hovers above the senses. Then, sixth, bliss—spirituality—develops. The spirit is [...] turned toward the senses—and thus still permeated by the body of desire, which chains it to material existence—but on the seventh level this ceases, and the spirit steps forth into its own pure existence. [This opens the possibility] of embarking on the path of return to God, to the Divine. The Divine would then be the [highest] stage.

[ 27 ] We also find in Scotus Eriugena a view that cannot be reconciled with his other teachings. He cannot logically explain the contrast between the elect and those who do not attain salvation. He cannot bridge this contrast. Yet this contrast does not exist at all in Christianity: Only those minds in the West were able to discover the ideas and truths slumbering unconsciously within Christianity—[those who had clarity regarding the idea] that the essence [of the human being] is rooted in eternity. If we explore Christianity in depth and to its very core, we will find that these ideas lie dormant within it.

[ 28 ] The point, then, is to awaken the depths of religion. Christianity, therefore, need only be understood deeply enough to bring out its true essence. We must therefore strive to discover what unites all the great religious systems and to see how a single spirit manifests itself in all of them.

[ 29 ] It must therefore fill us with great satisfaction to see how Theosophy reveals to us the common spirit inherent in all religions. As we reflect on and delve into the ancient wisdom of Buddhism and see the infinite depth that spiritual life has attained in these Eastern teachings, we will also be able to observe that this spirit has emerged in our scientific endeavors as well as in Christianity. After all, the core of scientific teachings lies there just as it does in the world religions. But it is not drawn from the very best core of that same essence. Fundamentally, it makes no difference whether we open the great book of nature or pick up a religious text and look it up. Both lead to the great theosophical convictions. I believe that even the branch of natural science that [does not] stand on the side of Christianity is fighting in this direction: Even the battles waged against the Church are fought using Christian methods. Anyone who sees the deeper connection recognizes this direction precisely in the way modern researchers combat Christianity. What Christianity and the Church have forged is now being used against them.

[ 30 ] No direct balance can be found between two such forces. But what can lead us to believe that reconciliation must be possible after all is demonstrated to us by thinkers such as Scotus Eriugena. They are not yet aware of the sharp division between the two camps: natural science on the one hand and religion on the other. Scotus Eriugena was still able to be a good Christian, and he could still describe the entire world as “nature” within a Christian worldview. It seems that this is no longer possible for the minds of people today. The only salvation, it seems to me, lies in continuing to follow the path that has been taken in the West for decades. We must draw new courage from the sources of light in the East—from the two streams that once flowed together—and bring about reconciliation.

[ 31 ] If we delve into Eastern wisdom, then reconciliation will still be possible. To me, this is evidenced by the fact that, in an indivisible unity and in a more or less unconscious way, that light from the East still lived on in Scotus Eriugena. What has sustained humanity for so long will continue to sustain it, so that through this light, people must find the path. And what has brought the spirit into harmony will continue to do so. But for this, we need to delve deeper into the theosophical teachings. If we find the path that reunites the two, it will mean the reconciliation of the natural sciences with the Western religions; then it will become clear that they are seeking the same thing through different paths.