The Rudolf Steiner Archive

6. Spiritual Knowledge as the Highest Form of Liberation

The Mission of the Humanities Movement

[ 1 ] Eight days ago, we examined the spiritual-scientific worldview insofar as it can be comprehensible to people today. Naturally, these people begin with their sensory observations and their intellect, or with modern science, which is likewise based on sensory observation and the intellect. We showed how spiritual science is capable of addressing all the objections that our reason might raise, based on the scientific conscience of the present day. The aim and purpose of this discussion should not be misunderstood. It was not undertaken so that we might go out and engage in discussions with those who have not yet familiarized themselves with spiritual science. That cannot be the point. Anyone who does not yet have a relationship with spiritual science—and who has no desire to develop one—will first have to learn to engage with it. So it is not a matter of our having arguments at the ready for a discussion, but rather of each person being able to raise within themselves, within their own soul, the objections that may arise for them from contemporary popular science and other aspects of modern life. Above all, they should gain a certain sense of inner security. That was the aim and purpose of our previous reflections.

[ 2 ] It can never, under any circumstances, be the task of the theosophical movement to satisfy mere curiosity or a thirst for knowledge. It is true that, even to this day, in the broadest circles of theosophical activity, this curiosity—or, to put it more nobly, this thirst for knowledge—has often been the foundation that brought people into contact with theosophical endeavors. But all those who come merely out of curiosity will, after a while, feel disappointed. Not because spiritual science lacks the most extensive means to satisfy human curiosity down to the deepest depths of existence, but because the knowledge at the heart of the Theosophical movement benefits a person only when it becomes active knowledge—knowledge through which they take action, which they apply in daily life; at the very least, one must have the impulse to bring this knowledge into life.

[ 3 ] When a person approaches spiritual science, they easily find themselves in a dilemma. You must clearly bring this dilemma before your soul. There are two types of people who come to theosophy. Some say: “I want to help; I want to be a valuable member of the Society”—and by this they mean that the Theosophical Movement should provide them with the means to start right away tomorrow. Others may merely delude themselves into thinking they want to help. In truth, however, they only want to satisfy their curiosity and experience something they find sensational. Neither group will become true members of the Theosophical Society. For those who want to help right away fail to consider that one must first learn and acquire certain skills in order to help. They must be told: “You must have patience in developing within yourselves the powers and means through which you will mature into helpers for your fellow human beings.” In this way, the former must humble themselves. The others, however, who merely wish to satisfy their curiosity, must realize that not a single one of the means or abilities given to them should be accepted from any other perspective than with the intention of becoming a serving member of the development of all humanity. This requires a long time. The Theosophical Society should first instill a firm awareness and knowledge of eternity and spiritual existence. Those who possess this awareness within themselves say to themselves: It is time; I can be patient; I will develop calmly. I will not immediately, from my current imperfect standpoint, attempt to do everything possible to reform humanity and so on.

[ 4 ] Patience on the one hand, and on the other, the will to become a serving link in the overall development of humanity—these are the two elements that define the method of the Theosophical Society. One must not focus on just one of them, but must pay attention to both. One must unite both patience and the will to act within oneself, but not as an arithmetic mean between the two; rather, one must develop these two separately within the soul. Do not confuse these two things! It is something entirely different to have an arithmetic mean or to have these two things separately within the soul.

[ 5 ] In accordance with these two requirements, the theosophical worldview was established several decades ago and made accessible to humanity. Let us allow the knowledge we have absorbed over the years—everything that has already been said during this time—to pass through our souls once more, for the more often one does this, the better it is. This knowledge should be transformed into a living force of will. Therefore, the older members will hear some things again that they have already heard—perhaps in a different context, or perhaps simply to refresh their memory. It was with this aim in mind that the Theosophical worldview was established several decades ago. What was it in the past? It was what is called a secret doctrine or occult teaching—that is, something practiced within a close circle of specially admitted individuals. In earlier times, after rigorous tests of will, feeling, and thought, students were admitted to these closed circles—the esoteric or occult brotherhoods. From these brotherhoods emanated the effects that are to emanate in the future from a larger circle of people. In the future, more and more people will be called upon to exert these effects. A small circle of the chosen few has always exercised the influence to which the Theosophical Movement is to be empowered. Whether they were the disciples of Hermes, the initiates of the Eleusinian Mysteries, the Egyptian or Christian-Gnostic mystery schools, or the Rosicrucians in Europe, tremendous influence has always emanated from these closely knit brotherhoods. Even though modern man, with his rational science, knows nothing or virtually nothing about this, it remains a fact that all spiritual culture—and through it, all material culture—has emanated from such brotherhoods.

[ 6 ] It has already been discussed here that all material culture—everything that humans create with a hammer, a saw, an axe, or by any other means—has its roots in spiritual culture. You can view everything from the smallest to the largest in this light. Take one of the great engineering marvels of our time, the Simplon Tunnel or the Gotthard Tunnel. Very few people realize that the Simplon Tunnel or the Gotthard Tunnel could never have been built if Leibniz had not lived. If differential calculus had not existed, no one would have been able to construct such structures. The thought that once guided these thinkers to carry out these intricate calculations is what made all of this materially possible in the first place. Everything that happens on the physical plane ultimately traces back to thought. It is a grave illusion to believe that there is anything in material culture that does not ultimately trace back to the mind, to thought. Whatever you take—in the realm of art, in the realm of technology, industry, or commerce—even the most practical, the most trivial, the most mundane—it ultimately leads back to what has taken place in the human soul.

[ 7 ] Where do the great impulses of thought and spiritual creation come from? Here we are now entering the realm that can help us understand how the occult brotherhoods operated in past centuries and millennia. Let us take an example. Today’s materialistic thinker, however, would never come up with this example. A fiery, enthusiastic young man of the 18th century, with a predisposition for greatness, needed only a spark from an event that appeared to be a coincidence, something utterly insignificant. He encountered, as if by chance, a seemingly indifferent person. This person spoke words to the young man that apparently made no particular impression on him. I say “seemingly,” because something is indeed taking place in the soul of this enthusiastic young man. The encounter, during which these seemingly insignificant words were spoken, did in fact have significance. What actually happened there? Something of the highest cultural significance is veiled within an insignificant event that appears to be governed by chance. Those brothers who are the true, highest guardians of humanity’s treasure of wisdom are present in this world. They may walk among us; we may encounter them. But to ordinary humanity, they wear a cloak of invisibility. It is up to others to recognize them. They themselves never reveal their identity. In centuries past, it was even harder to recognize them than it is today. Nor was it essential that one recognize them. What mattered most, however, was their work. Imagine such a brotherhood of hidden initiates. One of these brothers approaches the young man, as if by chance. But such coincidences are brought about by the wisdom of the world. Through a few insignificant words, something is kindled in the young man that is, culturally speaking, of the utmost importance. This young man’s name is Jean-Jacques Rousseau. In a seemingly chance event, the seed was thus sown for Rousseauism to emerge and for powerful impulses to flow into cultural life through him. The impulses that emanated from Rousseau’s writings are not a matter of chance, nor are they something that can be grasped by the conventional approach to external cultural history; rather, they are the quiet flow of the stream of wisdom as it is preserved within the Brotherhood. Within the Brotherhood, decisions are made regarding what serves humanity’s good. The brothers are sages; they are prophets. They know what is necessary for humanity. Thus, when necessary, they send one of their own out into the world to give development a new direction.

[ 8 ] Another example has already been recounted here. It concerns the German theosophical philosopher Jakob Böhme and can be found in every biography of Böhme. As a boy, Jakob was apprenticed to a shoemaker. One day, the master and mistress had gone out. They had forbidden him to sell anything; he was only supposed to keep watch. Then a man entered the shop who made a strong impression on him. The stranger wanted to buy something, but Jakob was not allowed to sell him anything. After the stranger had already left, Jakob heard his name being called. He stepped outside, and the man said to him: “Jakob, you are small now, but you will one day become great. You will become a person who will amaze the world.—This man provided the inspiration for what is contained in Jakob Böhme’s writings.

[ 9 ] You will understand even better what this is all about if we take another example that can lead you even deeper into the secrets of the brotherhoods. Imagine this: An unknown person—unknown to the outside world, but well known to the initiates—writes a letter to a very wealthy member of the Privy Council or to the minister. The letter may concern a completely trivial matter, perhaps the approval of some unimportant detail. If an initiate were to read this letter—these are absolute facts I am recounting here—and were to interpret it quite differently than an ordinary person, he would recognize something very special in it. For it may be that, in such a letter, for example, every third word from the beginning or every fourth word from the end must be omitted. Then certain words remain that convey a very significant meaning—something that influences the entire will of the person to whom the letter is addressed. That person may have read only that he should have some rubbish removed. In truth, however, the letter contains something extremely important. Now you might say: “But the man didn’t read that.”—That, however, is not correct. The outer ego-consciousness did not read it, but therein lies the secret of such a key: that the correct words that remain are imprinted on the etheric body, on the subconscious, so that the person in question has in fact absorbed it after all.

[ 10 ] In this way, impulses can be given to cause people to act accordingly, and thus it is possible to convey directives in a mysterious way without being detected in any way. However, this is only a trivial example compared to the things of great significance that exist in the world. The initiate can take on any form. He has the means to influence not the everyday consciousness, but the other levels of human consciousness.

[ 11 ] You are familiar with the German mystic Cornelius Agrippa von Nettesheim. His teacher was Johannes Tritheim, abbot of Sponheim. Tritheim wrote books that, to today’s materialistic mindset, appear either romantic or very baroque—in any case, something that is accepted with a certain degree of indifference. It is believed that these writings were also accepted with indifference even in the time of Johannes Tritheim of Sponheim. Yet there is also a key to reading these books. If one omits certain things from the beginning and others from the end, a residue remains, and this residue in the books of Tritheim of Sponheim reflects a large part of what is presented today as elementary theosophy. Thus, when reading these writings, one is in fact subconsciously absorbing what is presented today as theosophy. Over the centuries, many people have taken theosophy into their souls without even realizing it. These have been significant influences in cultural life that can be linked to processes such as those discussed here eight days ago—namely, the effects of copper and lead.

[ 12 ] From these examples, you can see how occult brotherhoods have worked throughout the millennia for the benefit of humanity. That was true in the past, but it is no longer true for the future. Those initiates who understand the meaning and significance of evolution will therefore say: What was true in the past is not necessarily true for the future. — It would be a poor form of inspiration to seek truth solely in the past at all times and fail to experience it in living reality, through which this truth is continually reshaped for the future. A truly inspired person does not merely go to school with humanity’s oldest teachers, but rather transforms the truths he receives into something alive for every epoch. What must stir in everyone’s soul as an objection to this old form of occult activity is the concept of freedom, the concept of its value, and the dignity of the human being. After all, people are unfree when they are influenced in the manner described. But freedom, as has often been shown, is not something that is complete in itself, but rather something that human beings increasingly attain through the living process of development. Freedom is the goal of human development and not something with which humanity was born. And freedom is based on knowledge. There is no other means by which the old influences emanating from the brotherhoods can be overcome than the dissemination of occult knowledge itself. This is the foundation of the Theosophical Movement: to set people free by enabling them to learn the spiritual truths that were formerly reserved for the occult brotherhoods. At that time, the world knew nothing, and even today it knows hardly anything about what lies beyond the physical plane. Only when it learns about the things that lie beyond the physical plane will it be able to truly master for itself the mysterious influences and forces at work between individuals and between peoples. This is the task of the future and, in fact, also the task of the Theosophical Movement.

[ 13 ] Thus, the humanities present themselves as something entirely different from all other contemporary movements. Many pressing issues of our time confront people today. Among these issues, which are forced upon them by reality, the social question stands out above all, manifesting itself in a wide variety of forms. These include personal civil liberties, the national and racial questions, and colonial issues. All of these issues—to which the question of education is added as the most important—are illuminated in a special way, a different way than is otherwise possible today, through the insights of the spiritual sciences. Why is this so? A brief example will clarify this. There is currently a certain movement within psychiatry of which laypeople are not yet very aware. But since everything finds its way into the public eye through newspaper articles, one or the other may already have taken some notice of it. It does, in fact, have an impact on important matters. Take a look at the latest releases on the book market. There you will find an interesting little book about Robert Schumann’s illness. A psychiatrist—a doctor specializing in mental illness—has, as he has done with other prominent figures, turned his attention to Robert Schumann and demonstrated that he was afflicted by the illness known in psychiatry as “dementia praecox,” or early-onset insanity. Perhaps you also know that not only Robert Schumann but also other great figures have been examined for their mental constitution—Goethe, Heine, and a whole host of others. There are even two treatises that are, in a certain sense, not uninteresting, although they have gone so far as to examine the personality of Jesus Christ in this regard. All of this can happen in our materialistic age. One such psychiatrist says: When an abnormal manifestation of the mind occurs, it is based on a specific abnormal organization of the human being. —Now, today’s psychiatrist is also clear about one thing: such an illness cannot be treated through what he calls “spiritual means.” You will see immediately what is meant by this. For a time, it was believed that if someone—let’s say—was afflicted by a certain form of madness that manifested itself in abnormal religious beliefs, one could dissuade them by teaching them rational concepts—that is, through persuasion and by presenting rational arguments. Madness does, after all, sometimes take on very peculiar forms. For example, someone might imagine that they are being persecuted. The psychiatrist regards this as a symptom. For him, the delusion of persecution is merely a symptom; in reality, there is an abnormality in the brain. One cannot dissuade the person in question from their delusions by making it clear to them that they are not being persecuted at all, for the organization of the mind cannot be altered. To that extent, the psychiatrist is indeed correct. The researcher of the spirit does not wish to judge others from an amateurish perspective. Even if you approach the person in question with reasonable arguments, you will still not dissuade them from their delusion. At most, it will take on other forms.

[ 14 ] Let’s take Hölderlin as an example. This is another case that has been targeted by psychiatrists. Hölderlin was consumed by his longing for ancient Greece. The psychiatrist says: He suffered from a brain disease, and everything else is an external symptom. The brain disease may have already been present due to a hereditary predisposition. Thus, it would be impossible to trace what we today call spiritual life back to the constitution of the organism—and, first and foremost, to the constitution of the brain. You see, these investigations of modern psychiatry lead into a bottomless abyss. The physical body is accepted as a given, and the spiritual is merely like a mist emanating from the physical body. Even the highest spiritual abilities, even the achievements of our geniuses—insofar as they are abnormal—are attributed by such materialistic researchers to abnormal brain activity. This is what the psychiatrist will tell you. No matter what you say in response—he will insist that all mental life depends on the physical constitution. To the extent that this assertion is positive, it is correct, for what is actually at stake is completely unknown in these circles; it is entirely unfamiliar.

[ 15 ] This brings us to a point that you might do well to commit to memory. It contains an extraordinarily important secret, though perhaps not everyone will regard it as such. In fact, the human organ that performs a given activity is originally built up by that activity itself: the brain is originally built up by thoughts. Blood gives rise to emotional life. Without warm blood, there is no emotional life. In fact, however, blood is originally formed from emotional life. This gives us an entirely new perspective. Now we say to ourselves: Certainly, we cannot change a person’s brain through the ideas they produce today via their brain. But behind this brain lie the other thoughts that materialistic science does not even recognize—and which built the brain in the first place. We must come to know this world of thought; it is the creative world of thought. Thus, one must distinguish between ordinary thoughts and a world of thought that permeates the world—truly permeates it. Because the brain is born of the world of thought, the human spirit is capable not only of producing thoughts that arise from the brain’s world of thought, but also of participating in that world of thought which reigns behind the physical organism. Through this, one learns to master the life of thought. Thus, one does not heal through logical reasoning, but rather by penetrating much more deeply into the spiritual realms. It is possible, when thoughts are drawn from the true spiritual world, to transform the physical organism purely through thought and to restore the sick organism to health.

[ 16 ] Thus, we are dealing with a dual nature of the spirit. We have the spirit that first appears to us on the surface in natural phenomena, in art and science, and in the economic products of technology and industry. This spirit is a product of physical life. But behind this stands its creator, who is, in turn, spirit. Consider an illustration to make this clear. Imagine that I have water here, which I cool through a specific process until it becomes ice. If we heat a portion of the ice so that it turns back into water, then we have three distinct states: the original water all around, the ice, and that which has turned back into water. Consider the human brain in the same way. The Spirit that fills the entire world has condensed into the brain just as water condenses into ice, and thoughts are separated from the brain just as water is separated from the warmed ice. Thus, you can essentially regard all that is material as a condensation of the Spirit, as a contraction of the Spirit, and you can view the spiritual that appears in the world as having emerged from the physical. Materialism sees only condensed matter and has forgotten that behind the material world lies the spiritual, that above things there exists a spiritual reality that brings forth matter. The Theosophical Movement is meant to lead us back to the Spirit that lies behind the material world.

[ 17 ] Now we can also pick up on a thought we mentioned last time. I spoke to you about writing. We write something down—let’s say the word “spirit.” Anyone who has no concept of the spirit will certainly not write down this word. But someone else might come along—someone who has no concept of the spirit, who cannot read at all—and might describe it as follows: There is a curved line going down, then another curved line going up, then down again, and so on. No one would ever think that this means “spirit,” because anyone who describes it this way cannot read. But this is how science describes the facts today. For this word to be written down, a meaning was necessary—one that has been poured out into what is written here. The writer can leave; another can come and, from what is physically written here, recognize what the writer originally meant. So it is also with the original Spirit in relation to our physical world. This physical world is a text, nothing other than a text. Ordinary, everyday science describes the individual things of the world as I have shown. The occultist, however, knows that these individual things, apart from the fact that they can be described externally, still mean something; that they can be read because they are the characters of the spirit. If one regards this world in this way as the characters of the spirit, if one views everything external—minerals, plants, animals, and human beings—as characters of the spirit, then by reading the physical world one naturally enters the spiritual world.

[ 18 ] This kind of reading, however, is not entirely simple. To illustrate this approach, consider the following example. A chemist takes a blood sample, analyzes it, and concludes that it consists of such-and-such components. Then he is done, and he knows what blood is. But “reading” in the spiritual-scientific and occult sense shows you that blood, in the form we have it, could not have come into being if it were not for the phenomena behind it that we call the astral. The spirit of the world acts upon matter through astral phenomena. There could never be blood in the physical world if the astral world did not lie behind the physical world. All sorts of things could exist, but blood is possible only because the astral world lies behind it. Thus, you read the astral in the blood, just as you read the word “Spirit” in these characters. Reading the characters given here in the physical realm leads to seeing in the astral.

[ 19 ] This is, in fact, the right way to enter the spiritual world: to immerse oneself meaningfully in the world around us. It is easier to enter the spiritual world in some other ways, but it is safer to do so by studying the phenomena that surround us. A mineral speaks differently, a plant differently, an animal differently, and a human being differently—because all these beings are, in fact, different symbols. If you observe them thoughtfully, they will convey messages to you from the spiritual world. That is why, in the Rosicrucian instructions for occult training, you will find that the study of our world—the devoted, thoughtful observation of the world—is listed as the first priority. When we began our Theosophical Movement, some people said: “What he’s telling us can also be read in any science textbook. He talks about evolution, the struggle for existence, and so on—but we want to hear about the things that take place in the spiritual world.” - There may be far more about these things in it than the people who demanded it could handle. But the starting point must be a sure understanding of our immediate reality—not a mere description, but a meaningful understanding.

[ 20 ] Consider the following as an important fundamental truth—and the Rosicrucian occult training has always regarded it as such—: Here in the sensory world, things appear as the outer physical senses can perceive them. In the astral world, things look different again—completely different. And in the Devachanic world, they look yet again completely different. This is how it is with regard to perception. Now there is thinking, through which one comprehends the perceptions of the physical world, the astral world, and the Devachanic world. The thoughts and laws of logic are the same for all three worlds. What is correctly thought is also correct in Devachan; it is correct on the astral plane as well as on the physical plane. If you learn to think correctly on the physical plane, this correct thinking will serve as a sure guide through all the worlds. But the point is to learn to think meaningfully, sensibly, and deeply. Therefore, no one should neglect to penetrate this sensory world with their thoughts and to regard it as characters that convey news of a higher, spiritual world.

[ 21 ] The great process of humanity’s liberation is, first and foremost, about gaining a meaningful understanding of the significance of physical phenomena. Through this gateway, one is led into the spiritual world. It is certainly a work that demands self-sacrifice, but human beings must undertake it. If they truly undertake it—if they gradually ascend to the spiritual realm along this path and learn to perceive things from the perspective of the spiritual world—then they will become partners in the great cultural tasks. They can only become this as free human beings. The moment one were to attempt to build the culture of the future on any basis other than that of freedom, one would create nothing but stillborn products by carrying the ideas of the past into the future. This will be the great difference from the past: it is not principles or institutions that are at work, but human beings. True, in the past, it was really only human beings who were at work. But they were only a small circle, and their principles were passed on to the general public. Some praised these principles and believed them to be something original. People then spoke of something they derived from principles. But it was nothing other than the impulse originating from the initiates. Such impulses were then spun out further; this could take a long time. Let us take as an example an ancient initiation, that of Heraclitus. He expressed the truths he had discovered in external formulas, which were then elaborated upon by countless people. They believed they were thinking independently; but that was not the case. One truly learns to think only when one looks behind things and can grasp their real meaning.

[ 22 ] So I hope you have gained some sense of how a person should fit into the cultural process, how they can pass between the one pillar—patience—by learning and refraining from intervening too soon, and between the other pillar—will—to be a serving link in the course of humanity’s development. They can do this by allowing things to increasingly take effect upon them through the senses and thus advancing toward the creative spirit. One must feel this, experience it within oneself; then one is a Theosophist. In the future, people must become free to a far greater extent than they were in the past, and above all, in far greater numbers. It was not long ago that there were only a few people in Central Europe who were truly free. Culture radiated from small centers. It then spread to others in the form of views and opinions, so that they believed everything else to be erroneous. Rousseau, too, believed he was merely expressing his own opinions, his innermost thoughts, whereas in fact he was influenced by something entirely different.

[ 23 ] The initiates knew that life between birth and death—which is enclosed within sensory phenomena—is governed by forces that do not cease at death, that are just as present in death as in physical life, that were also present before birth, and that merely take on a different form during physical life. That is why the initiates were able to impart impulses to the world, because they could look into what lies beyond death. The glass standing here can never move on its own. Nor does that which is enclosed between birth and death move of its own accord. The forces that move what is enclosed between birth and death are always present; they are the Eternal. The initiates know them, and a large part of humanity must come to know them in the future.

[ 24 ] Take this to heart, for this feeling is important. Without it, you will not make progress in occultism. It determines whether you will become a true member of the Theosophical Movement. But this feeling also guides you with a certain degree of certainty through what you perceive around you. We perceive chaos in our culture; that is true. Theoretically, materialism is chaos. It is something monstrous when a person opens a book today and is presented with nothing but a jumble of disjointed bits of knowledge. Nothing but details and chaos everywhere, even out there in social life.

[ 25 ] What will someone who is not involved in theosophical life do? They make suggestions on how to do things better. How many social “recipes” has humanity already experienced? But the Theosophical Movement differs from all the others in that it does not offer any “recipes,” nor does it prescribe how things should be done better. It is not the culture of the future to strive to find formulas; it is not the culture of the future to discuss how to establish world peace. Drawing up programs is a thing of the past. The future lies in the existence of people who act in the right way of their own accord. Theosophy does not prescribe what is right, but rather shows people how to come to do what is right. Theosophy will never say, when thirty people are gathered together: “These thirty will live together peacefully if they have this or that constitution.” Rather, it shows each individual how to reach a stage of development within themselves at which they will find the right order all on their own when they interact with others. That is the theosophical task in the movement of the future.

[ 26 ] In various lectures, we have examined our global situation—namely, war and peace, as well as the women’s issue and the social question—from a broad perspective. Through the liberation of the human being—through the breaking free of the human being from the constraints of the environment—he is simultaneously led up into the higher worlds, for true liberation alone makes entry into the higher worlds possible. Human beings can never enter the higher world under compulsion. Now we see the good even in chaos. Had our entire culture not been transformed into chaos, individual personalities would not have been able to unfold freely from within themselves. They would always have remained bound to their surroundings. The old order had to be torn apart and transformed into chaos. In this regard, we are facing great upheavals, and no one should hope to reform the world in any way other than through the development of souls. Anything else would be amateurish prophecy.

[ 27 ] So, in these two hours—yesterday’s and today’s—we have tried to grasp the meaning of the spiritual science movement as a cultural movement. Next time, we will examine how human karma manifests itself within the broader cultural movement and what the individual karmic connections of human beings are. In other words, we will examine what a person carries over from one incarnation to the next and how, as they progress from incarnation to incarnation, they participate in the world process. This is the task we will face in eight days.