The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Theosophy and Rosicrucianism III

[ 1 ] The most sacred thing within a human being is that which is referred to as self-consciousness. Anyone who understands this correctly will readily see that the term “self-consciousness” actually expresses the meaning of human existence. Self-consciousness is the ability to know oneself as an “I.”

[ 2 ] The best way to get a sense of this is to consider that, within the entire scope of the German language, there is one name that is fundamentally different from all others: the word “Ich” (I). Anyone can call a table a “table,” but only each person can say “Ich” for themselves; to everyone else, one is a “Du” (you). The word “I” can never reach my ear from outside when it is meant to signify myself. All the humanities have sensed this. The Hebrew religion, for example, when speaking of this essence of the human inner being, referred to it as the unpronounceable name of God. For it was said: If the “I” is to be uttered, it must resound from the very center of one’s being. No external being can pronounce the name. It was therefore like a shudder that ran through the entire assembly when the priest uttered the word Yahweh, “I am who I am.” That is when God begins to speak within the human being. This is the pure, original meaning of the Hebrew name of God. You will come to know other names as well, but all of them stand in a certain relationship to this one name. And with this “I,” we designate the fourth member of the human being. Starting from this “I,” the human being works through the other members of his being: the astral body, the etheric body, and also the physical body. No matter how far back we go in the evolutionary history of the human being, these four members have always been present in him; and this is precisely what distinguishes him from the animals.

[ 3 ] Let us try to understand how the developed person relates to the undeveloped person with regard to these four aspects. Consider, for instance, one of the most savage individuals—who still devours his fellow human beings—alongside an average European, and compare that person in turn with a highly developed individual, such as Goethe, Schiller, or Francis of Assisi. That savage follows his instincts and passions directly, as they are contained in his astral body. He does indeed already have an “I,” but it is still entirely under the control of the astral body. Today’s average person can already distinguish between what is good and what is not. This is because this person has already worked on his astral body. He has worked on it and has even transformed some instincts into so-called ideals. The more a person has reshaped their astral body from the perspective of their “I,” the higher the stage of development they have reached. The average European today has already reshaped much of it. An individual such as Schiller or Goethe has already reshaped the far greater part of their astral body. But a person who has already subjugated all passions to his will—such as Francis of Assisi, for example—already possesses an astral body that has been completely transformed by the “I”; there is nothing left in it that is not under the dominion of the “I.” To the extent that a human being has transformed his astral body in this way, we call that part his Manas or spiritual self; this is the fifth member of his being. We can therefore say: In the “I” lies the seed for the transformation of the astral body into Manas, the spiritual self.

[ 4 ] However, there is also the possibility that a person can transform not only their astral body but also their etheric body, so that the “I” also becomes the master of the etheric body. You must realize, though, that this is much more difficult and proceeds more slowly. The difference between the transformation of the astral body and the etheric body is as follows: Just consider what you knew at the age of eight, and everything you have acquired since your youth! The astral body is the vehicle for all these transformations; it changes, so to speak, quite significantly from day to day through all the external impressions you take in. The situation is different, however, with the etheric body. To get an idea of this, imagine the following: If you were a quick-tempered child at the age of eight, you are probably still quick-tempered at times today. Only a few people succeed in changing themselves in such a way that they also transform their habits, their inclinations, their temperament, and their character. This is by no means a contradiction to what was said above. The astral body is indeed connected to pleasure and suffering and to our passions; but once these passions have become habits—so-called character traits—they are anchored in the etheric body; and if we wish to transform such habits, then the etheric body must be transformed, for it is the bearer of all habits and character traits.

[ 5 ] I have often compared the changes in the astral body and the etheric body to the movement of the minute and hour hands on a clock.

[ 6 ] "We will speak later about the development of the advanced student. Such a student is not one in the ordinary sense of the word—not someone who merely learns something. Certainly, such a student must also learn a great deal, but infinitely more important than learning is the process described above of working into the etheric body: that he succeeds in transforming anger into gentleness. It is precisely for this purpose that the secret science provides the student with guidance.

[ 7 ] A person has attained a high stage of development when they are able to change a habit—that is, a characteristic of their etheric body—overnight. Such a transformation of the etheric body must go hand in hand with what the student of esoteric science learns in other respects. But even if a person knows nothing of such training, he nevertheless transforms his etheric body of his own accord—albeit slowly and gradually, over the course of many incarnations. And to the extent that this etheric body has been transformed, we call it Buddhi, or the life spirit; and this constitutes the sixth member of the human being.

[ 8 ] And then there is another level—one that is much, much higher—on which a person also learns to work into his physical body and to transform it. To the extent that he has gained mastery over his physical body, he is called Atma, or the spiritual human being; this is the seventh member of his being. Atma is related to the word “breathe,” because it is the breathing process from which this transformation originates. One can only begin to grasp what it means to consciously control one’s physical body from the “I” when one considers how little one actually knows about one’s physical body. This knowledge has nothing to do with what modern anatomy has to say about the physical body. Long before modern anatomy existed, there were ancient teachings—which, however, were not made public—in which you can find knowledge about the inner workings of the human being. Through this, these ancient sages were able, for example, to trace the flow of life and blood; they were thus able to look inward at themselves and observe the physical body in all its organs. If we have evolved to this extent, then it is possible that no particle in our body moves without our will. This is the transformation into Atma, the spiritual human being.

[ 9 ] Now, one might object: Since the physical body is the lowest link in the human being, why is it possible to transform it into the highest link? — Precisely because the physical body is the lowest link, it requires the greatest effort on the part of the human being to bring this body under one’s own control. The transformation of this physical body goes hand in hand with gaining mastery over the forces that permeate the entire cosmos. And mastery over these cosmic forces is what is known as magic.

[ 10 ] Thus, in terms of his true inner nature, human beings consist of seven parts, but these seven parts merge completely into one another. One can only form a proper conception of this mutual interpenetration of all seven parts by comparing them to the seven colors of the rainbow, all of which are also contained in sunlight. Just as light consists of these seven colors, so too does the human being consist of his seven parts.

[ 11 ] Now let us consider the significance of this structure for understanding the entire course of human life. We heard yesterday what the nature of sleep is. The physical body and the etheric body lie in bed; respiration and blood circulation continue as the life manifestations of this etheric body; but everything that belongs to the astral body is lifted out of the physical and etheric bodies together with the I.

[ 12 ] In death, by contrast, something else occurs. While the physical body and the etheric body remain a single entity throughout the entire period between birth and death, at death—unlike during sleep—not only does the astral body separate from the physical body, but the etheric body does as well. This physical body, however—as we recalled from yesterday’s discussion—is so complex that, left to its own devices, it must disintegrate. Let us now observe the human being immediately after death with a clairvoyant gaze: before us lies only the physical body, and hovering above it are the astral body and the etheric body. Immediately after death, a peculiar phenomenon arises in the consciousness of the person who has just passed away: at the moment of death, the entire course of their life arises in the field of human memory like a vast tableau. Every small, even the smallest event, passes before them in images. This occurs quite naturally, because the etheric body—in addition to the property described above of preventing the decomposition of the physical body—is also the bearer of memory. At the very moment when this etheric body is relieved of its former task, it immerses itself very intensely in this second task. But since every event during life was associated with pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow—due to its interpenetration with the astral body—the person now, since the astral body has also separated from him, experiences these images of memory—that is, his entire past existence—without sensation, without feeling, as if in a vast panorama.

[ 13 ] As long as this etheric body remains connected to the physical body, the instrument it must use—the brain—is something that ensures our memories are never complete; we retain only fragments of our life experiences in our memory. This is due to the limitations of the physical brain, whereas at the moment of liberation from the physical brain, this etheric body remembers everything. An analogy to this state can already be found in everyday life in the shock one experiences, for example, at the moment of drowning, falling, and so on. This stems quite simply from the fact that at such a moment the etheric body is violently detached from the physical body—a process that also occurs, albeit in a milder form, when the limbs go numb as one falls asleep, as well as during hypnosis, when the clairvoyant sees the etheric body hanging down on both sides of the head. Materialistic physiology objects that a material change in the blood is taking place, but this is a confusion of cause and effect.

[ 14 ] The first stage of a person’s fate after death is thus this review of the life that has passed, which varies in length and lasts, on average, about three and a half days. Then comes a kind of second death, in which the etheric body detaches itself completely from the astral body, leaving behind a kind of etheric corpse. This etheric corpse very soon dissolves—albeit at different rates for each person—into the universal ether, though not completely; a kind of essence from the past life remains, which the “I” takes with it and which is an imperishable asset that remains with the person for all subsequent incarnations. After each incarnation, a new page is added, as it were, to the previous ones. In Theosophy, this is called the causal body, and the nature of this causal body determines the course of subsequent incarnations.

[ 15 ] Now the astral body is alone. How does this state differ from sleep, when it too has stepped out of the other bodies—the physical and etheric bodies—and was thus also alone? The forces that it had to use during sleep to maintain and repair the physical body have now been freed because the physical body has been definitively shed; the astral body now uses these forces for itself and becomes aware of them. In this state of self-awareness, the astral body now undergoes a period that you can best understand by considering the following.

[ 16 ] Consider, for a moment, the pleasure of a delicious meal; a person enjoys it and derives pleasure from this experience. This pleasure does not reside in the physical body, but in the astral body; but for this pleasure to occur, it requires an instrument—namely, a tongue and a palate; thus, the physical body provides the instrument for the pleasures of the astral body. What happens after death, then, when this physical body has been shed? The instrument, the mediator of pleasure, is missing, yet the astral body has not lost its yearning or desire for pleasure. Try to imagine this state as vividly as possible. It is a state similar to what a thirsty person in the desert experiences. After death, the astral body will still have the craving for pleasure, to the same extent as it was accustomed to in its past life. That is why, for all human beings, this time after death is a time of unfulfilled longing. This state is called Kamaloka; “kama” means desire, and “locus” means place. It is the same state described in numerous myths, for example, in the torments of Tantalus or in Purgatory. Of course, this state is not merely one of torment; it is tormenting only until the astral body has weaned itself from the desire for pleasure. Thus, the more needs the astral body had here in physical life, the longer this state lasts. From this, however, you can already infer that, depending on the nature of the needs a person had in their past life, the astral body may encounter in Kamaloka not only suffering but also, under certain circumstances, something very good and pleasant. For example, the astral body then experiences with pleasure every joy it once derived from beautiful nature. To enjoy this joy in beautiful nature, we do indeed need eyes to see, but beauty is something that transcends the physical, and therefore this state is also a source of heightened pleasure in Kamaloka life. Such things are the causes of great joys and wonderful experiences even during the Kamaloka period. Thus, a person can already make this time more beautiful by freeing themselves from attachment to purely physical pleasures. If you consider this, you will understand many things in life—for example, with regard to everything that is called art. The more ideal the art is, the more it illuminates the ideal; the stronger and more uplifting the work of art’s effect extends beyond life itself. Its element is the spiritual. Only materialistic short-sightedness has led to naturalism in art. — After living through this Kamaloka period, we have thus arrived at the point where a person has weaned themselves off all material pleasures, and this moment signifies the experience of an entirely new state. The soul now also sheds from the astral body everything that the human being—that is, the “I”—has not yet worked through; and this astral shell that has now been shed is thus the third corpse that the human being leaves behind.

[ 17 ] And now, after the “I” has become one with what it has acquired from the other bodies—that is, with the essence of the etheric body described above and now also with that of the astral body—it passes into the spirit realm. And this is the period that the soul experiences from that point onward until a new birth.

[ 18 ] Let’s discuss that tomorrow. Today I would just like to emphasize one thing once more: that all these spiritual worlds are constantly around us and are not spatially separated from us in an afterlife, so that they are visible to the seer’s eye at all times. And anyone who can look into these spiritual worlds can also see these shadows or spectres—for that is what those corpses are—at any time. It is precisely these corpses that very often intrude into spiritualist séances. But if the participants in such a spiritualist séance mistake such an astral corpse for the individuality in question, that is just as foolish as mistaking the physical corpse for the person themselves. Therefore, this astral corpse—for it is precisely what the “I” cannot use—very often displays ridiculous traits during such spiritualist séances.