The Rudolf Steiner Archive

First Lecture

[ 1 ] Our lectures on the Gospel of John will have a twofold purpose. One will be to deepen our understanding of spiritual scientific concepts as such and to expand them in various directions; and the other goal is precisely this: through the ideas that will come to mind in the process, to bring us closer to the great text of the Gospel of John itself. I ask that you bear in mind that the lectures are intended to pursue these two directions. These are not merely to be discussions about the Gospel of John; rather, using it as our guide, we wish to penetrate the deep mysteries of existence, and we wish to clearly establish what the spiritual scientific approach must actually entail when it engages with any of the great historical documents that have been handed down to us through the various religions of the world.

[ 2 ] One might indeed think that when a representative of the humanities speaks about the Gospel of John, he intends to do so in the same way it is often done: simply to take such a document as a basis, to draw from it the truths in question, and to present these truths by invoking the authority of religious texts. But that can never be the task of a spiritual-scientific view of the world. It must be something entirely different. If spiritual science is to fulfill its true task in relation to the modern human spirit, then it must show that human beings, if they only learn to use their inner powers and abilities—the powers and abilities of spiritual perception—can, when they apply them, penetrate the mysteries of existence, into that which is hidden in the spiritual worlds beyond the sensory world. Modern humanity must become increasingly aware that by using their inner faculties, human beings can penetrate the mysteries of existence and, through their own insight, reach the creative forces and beings of the universe.

[ 3 ] And so we must say that the mysteries of the Gospel of John can be grasped by human beings independently of any tradition or historical document. To put it very clearly, one might express this in an extreme way. Then one could say: Let us suppose that, through some event, all religious records were lost to humankind and people retained only the abilities they currently possess; then they would still—provided they preserve the abilities they had—be able to penetrate the mysteries of existence; he would be able to reach the divine-spiritual creative forces and beings hidden behind the physical world. And spiritual science must certainly build upon these sources of knowledge, which are independent of all records. But then, when one conducts independent research—when one has explored the divine-spiritual mysteries of the world independently of all sacred texts—only then does one turn to the religious texts. Only then does one recognize their true value. For then one is, in a certain sense, free and independent of them. One then recognizes in them what one has previously discovered independently; you can be certain that for anyone who has taken such a path in relation to the religious texts, these texts will never lose their value, nor will they ever lose any of the reverence and veneration one can have for them. Let us clarify what this is all about by comparing it to something else.

[ 4 ] One might say: Euclid, the ancient geometer, was the first to give us the geometry that every schoolchild learns today at a certain stage of their education. But is the study of geometry entirely tied to this book by Euclid? I ask you, how many people today learn elementary geometry without having the slightest idea of the first book in which Euclid set forth the most elementary concepts of geometry? They learn geometry independently of Euclid’s book, because it springs from an innate capacity of the human mind. Then, when one has learned geometry on one’s own and later encounters Euclid’s great book on geometry, one knows how to appreciate it properly; for only then does one find what one has made one’s own and learn to value the form in which the corresponding insights first appeared. In this way, one can discover today the great cosmic truths of the Gospel of John through the powers lying dormant within the human being, without knowing anything about the Gospel of John—just as a student learns geometry without knowing anything about Euclid’s first geometry book.

[ 5 ] When one approaches the Gospel of John equipped with knowledge of the higher worlds, one asks oneself: What is contained here in the spiritual history of humanity? The deepest mysteries of the spiritual worlds are enshrined in a book; they are given to humanity in a book. And since we already know what truths about the divine-spiritual worlds are, we can then recognize the divine-spiritual nature of the Gospel of John in its true sense—and that is, in fact, the proper way to approach such texts that deal with spiritual matters.

[ 6 ] When people who, based on the language alone, understand everything contained in such texts—such as the Gospel of John—that is, mere philologists—and even theological researchers of a certain kind are, in fact, today merely philologists with regard to the content of such books—approach these texts that deal with spiritual matters, how does the representative of spiritual science relate to such researchers? Let us take the comparison with Euclid’s geometry once again. Who, then, will be the more accurate interpreter? The one who can translate well in his own way but has absolutely no idea about geometric knowledge? Something strange will result if such a person were to tackle Euclid’s geometry without first understanding anything about geometry at all! But even if the translator were merely an insignificant philologist, he would—if he understands geometry—be able to appreciate the book properly. This is how the representative of spiritual science relates to the Gospel of John compared to many other researchers. At present, it is often explained in the same way that philologists would explain Euclid’s geometry. Spiritual science, however, provides, of its own accord, the insights into the spiritual worlds that are recorded in the Gospel of John. Thus, the spiritual scientist is in the same position with regard to the Gospel of John as the geometer is with regard to Euclid: he already possesses what he can find in the Gospel of John.

[ 7 ] We need not dwell on the accusation that might be raised—that in this way certain things are read into the text. We will soon see that those who understand the content have no need to read into the Gospel anything that is not actually there. Anyone who understands the nature of spiritual-scientific interpretation will not dwell on this accusation. Just as other documents do not lose their value or the reverence with which they are regarded when their true content is recognized, so it is with the Gospel of John. To those who have penetrated the mysteries of the world, it appears as one of the most significant documents in human spiritual life.

[ 8 ] We might then ask ourselves, as we delve more deeply into the content of the Gospel of John: If the Gospel of John appears to the spiritual researcher to be such a significant document, how is it that it is increasingly being pushed into the background relative to the other Gospels—precisely by theologians, who should, after all, be called to interpret it? This should be touched upon as a preliminary question before we delve into the Gospel of John itself.

[ 9 ] You all know that, with regard to the Gospel of John, some peculiar views and attitudes have taken hold. In ancient times, it was revered as one of the deepest and most significant records humanity possessed regarding the nature and meaning of the ministry of Jesus Christ on earth; and in the early days of Christianity, it would likely never have occurred to anyone not to regard the Gospel of John as an important historical monument to the events in Palestine. In more recent times, things have changed, and it is precisely those who believe they stand most firmly on the ground of historical research who have most undermined the foundation upon which such a view of the Gospel of John was based. For a period now spanning centuries, attention has begun to be drawn to the contradictions found in the Gospels. After much back-and-forth, the following conclusion has emerged, particularly among theologians. It has been said: There are many contradictions in the Gospels, and it is impossible to form a clear understanding of why the events in Palestine are recounted in different ways by the four authors of the four Gospels. It was said: If we take the accounts given in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, we have so many different details about this and that that it is impossible to believe that they all correspond to historical facts. This gradually became the prevailing view among those who sought to investigate these matters.

[ 10 ] In recent times, the view has emerged that, with regard to the first three Gospels, a certain consistency can be established in the account of the events in Palestine, but that the Gospel of John deviates significantly from what the first three Gospels recount, and that, therefore, with regard to historical “facts,” the first three Gospels must be given greater credence, while the Gospel of John possesses less historical credibility. Thus, it has gradually come to be said: This Gospel of John was not written with the same intention as the first three at all. Those Gospels sought only to recount what had happened; the author of the Gospel of John, however, had no such intention at all, but rather a completely different one. And for various reasons, scholars have come to accept the assumption that the Gospel of John was written relatively late. We will return to these matters later. A large number of scholars believe that the Gospel of John was not written until the third or fourth decade of the second Christian century, or perhaps even as early as the second decade of the second century; and therefore they reasoned: Thus, the Gospel of John was written at a time when Christianity had already spread in a certain form, and when it may even have had opponents. Various opponents had arisen against Christianity, and those who hold this view reasoned: In the author of the Gospel of John, we have a person who was particularly intent on providing a doctrinal treatise, a kind of apology—something like a defense of Christianity against the movements that had risen up against it. However, the author of the Gospel of John is said not to have intended to faithfully describe historical facts, but rather to express his own attitude toward his Christ. — Thus, many see nothing more in the Gospel of John than a kind of poem imbued with religious sentiment, which the author wrote from a religious-lyrical mood regarding his Christ, in order to inspire others and bring them into the same frame of mind. Perhaps not everyone would admit to this view in such extreme terms. But if you study the literature, you will find that this is a widespread opinion that deeply resonates with many of our contemporaries; indeed, such a view is very much in line with the mindset of our contemporaries.

[ 11 ] For several centuries now, within humanity—which has increasingly adopted a materialistic outlook—a certain aversion has developed toward such a conception of historical development in general, as it is presented to us right from the very first words of the Gospel of John. Just consider that the opening words allow for no other explanation than that Jesus of Nazareth, who lived at the beginning of our era, embodied a being of the highest spiritual nature. The writer of the Gospel of John, in keeping with his entire nature, could do nothing else when speaking of Jesus but begin with what he calls the “Word” or the “Logos”; and he could do nothing else but say:

“In the beginning was the Word, and through the Word all things were made.” (1:2–3)

[ 12 ] or through the “Logos.” If we take this word in its full meaning, then we must say: The writer of the Gospel of John feels compelled to describe the very beginning of the world—the highest thing to which the human spirit can ascend—as the Logos, and to say: “All things were made through this Logos, the source of all things!” And then he continues, saying:

“This Logos became flesh and dwelt among us.” (1:14)

[ 13 ] This means nothing other than: You have seen him, the one who lived among us; you will understand him only if you accept that the same principle dwelt in him through which everything around you—plants, animals, and human beings—is made. - If one does not wish to interpret this in a contrived manner, one must say that, in the sense of this document, a principle of the highest order was once incarnated in the flesh. Let us compare the demands that such a conception places on the human heart with what many theologians say today. You can read it today in theological works and hear it expressed in many ways in lectures: We no longer appeal to any supernatural principle; we prefer the Jesus portrayed in the first three Gospels, for he is the “simple man from Nazareth” who is like other human beings.

[ 14 ] In a certain sense, this has become an ideal for many theologians. People have a tendency to place everything that has become part of history on the same level as general human events, as much as possible. It bothers people that someone as exalted as the Christ of the Gospel of John should stand out. That is why they speak of this as the apotheosis of Jesus, the “simple man from Nazareth,” who appeals to them so much because they can say: After all, we also have Socrates and other great men. — He does differ from these others, but they still have a certain standard of ordinary, mundane humanity when they can speak of the “simple man from Nazareth.” This talk of the “simple man from Nazareth,” which you already find today in numerous theological works, including theological-academic writings, in what is called “Enlightenment theology,” is connected to the materialistic sensibility of humanity that has developed over centuries; for humanity believes that only the physical and sensory can exist, or that only these things have any significance. In those periods of human development when humanity’s gaze still turned upward toward the supersensible, people could say: Outwardly, in terms of external appearance, this or that historical figure may certainly be compared to the simple man from Nazareth; but in terms of what was spiritual and invisible within that figure, this Jesus of Nazareth is one of a kind! But once people had lost their perspective on and insight into the supersensible and invisible, they also lost the standard by which to measure everything that rose above the average level of humanity, and this became particularly evident in the religious view of life. Do not delude yourselves about this at all! Materialism first made its way into religious life. Materialism is far, far less dangerous to humanity’s spiritual development when it comes to external scientific facts than when it comes to the understanding of religious mysteries.

[ 15 ] We will have to discuss—as an example—the true spiritual understanding of the Lord’s Supper, the transformation of bread and wine into flesh and blood, and we will hear in the course of these lectures that, through this spiritual understanding, the Lord’s Supper truly loses none of its value or significance. But it will be precisely a spiritual understanding that we will come to know. And that was also the ancient Christian understanding, when there was still more spiritual awareness among humanity; it was still held in the first half of the Middle Ages. At that time, many understood the words, “This is my body…; this is my blood!” (Mark 14:22 and 24), in the way we are about to learn. But this spiritual understanding was inevitably lost over the centuries. We will learn the reasons for this. In the Middle Ages, there was a very peculiar trend that penetrated deeper into the minds of humanity than you might believe, for you can learn very little from modern history about how souls have gradually developed and what they have experienced. Around the middle of the Middle Ages, a profound current was at work in the Christian minds of Europe; for the former spiritual meaning of the Lord’s Supper had been reinterpreted in a materialistic sense by authoritative sources. When people heard the words: “This is my body…; this is my blood,” could only imagine a material process—a material transformation of bread and wine into flesh and blood. What had previously been conceived spiritually began to be imagined in a crude, material sense. Here, long before it took hold of the natural sciences, materialism crept into religious life.

[ 16 ] And another example is no less significant. Do not believe that in any of the authoritative explanations of the “Creation Story” in the Middle Ages, the six days of creation were taken to mean days as we understand them today—days of twenty-four hours. It would never have occurred to any of the leading theological teachers to do so; for they understood what the texts actually say. They still knew how to ascribe meaning to the words of the Bible. Does it even make sense, in light of the creation account, to speak of twenty-four-hour days of creation in the way we do today? What, after all, does a “day” mean? A day is what is brought about by the Earth’s orbital relationship to the Sun. You can only speak of days in the modern sense if the relationship between the Sun and the Earth and their motion are conceived as they are today. However, Genesis does not describe the Sun and Earth as having been in such a relationship to one another until the fourth period—the fourth “day” of creation. “Days” can therefore only begin on the fourth “day” of the Creation story. Before that, it would be meaningless to conceive of days as they are today. Since the mechanism that makes day and night possible is established only on the fourth “day,” there could be no question of days in the modern sense before that! Once again, the time came when people no longer knew that this referred to the spiritual meaning of day and night, when one could only imagine that such a time—which one must conceive of in terms of physical days—was possible. Thus, for a materialistically minded person, even for a theologian, a day as it is today became the “day” of creation as well, because that is the only kind of day they know.

[ 17 ] An older theologian spoke differently about such matters. Above all, he told himself that in the ancient religious texts, nothing superfluous appears in the important passages. Let us consider one passage as an example. Take, for instance, verse 21 of chapter 2 of the Book of Genesis; it reads:

“Then the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he fell asleep.”

[ 18 ] The ancient commentators attached particular importance to this passage. Those who have already given some thought to the development of human spiritual powers and abilities will know that there are various kinds of states of consciousness, and that what we today call “sleep” in the average person is merely a temporary state of consciousness that will in the future —as is already the case today with the initiated—into a state of consciousness in which the human being, freed from the body, looks into the spiritual world. That is why the commentator said: God caused Adam to fall into a deep sleep, and there he was able to perceive what he could not perceive with his physical sense organs. This is meant to be a clairvoyant sleep, and what is recounted is what one experiences in a higher state of consciousness; hence, Adam “falls into a sleep.” This was an ancient explanation; and it was said that it would not be mentioned in a religious text—“God caused a deep sleep to fall upon man”—if he had not already fallen into a sleep earlier. We are then reminded that this is the first sleep, and that humankind had previously been in states of consciousness where they could still constantly perceive spiritual things. This is what was told to the people.

[ 19 ] Today, the task is to show that there were once entirely spiritual interpretations of the biblical texts, and that the materialistic mindset, as it emerged, introduced into them what enlightened people today oppose in the Bible. It was the materialistic mindset itself that first created what it now opposes. Thus you can see how the materialistic mindset has indeed taken hold in humanity and how, as a result, the true, genuine, and real understanding of the religious texts has been lost. When spiritual science fulfills its task and shows people what mysteries lie behind physical existence, then people will recognize how these mysteries are described in the religious texts. The superficial, trivial materialism that people today consider so dangerous is merely the final phase of the materialism I have described to you. First, the Bible was interpreted materialistically. If no one had ever interpreted the Bible materialistically, then no one in the external sciences, such as Haeckel, would ever have interpreted nature materialistically either; and what was laid as a foundation in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in the religious sphere bore fruit in the nineteenth century in the natural sciences; and this has led to the situation where it is impossible to arrive at an understanding of the Gospel of John unless one delves into its spiritual foundations. One can only underestimate the value of the Gospel of John if one does not understand it. And because those who no longer understood it were afflicted by a materialistic mindset, it appeared to them precisely in the light described earlier.

[ 20 ] A very simple comparison will explain how the Gospel of John differs from the other three.

[ 21 ] Imagine a mountain. On the mountain and along its slopes, at certain heights, there are various people, and these various people—let’s say three—are now drawing what they see below. Each will draw it differently depending on where they are standing; but certainly each of these three pictures is true from the perspective in question. And the one who stands at the summit and draws what is below will, in turn, gain and depict a different view. Such is the perspective of the three Evangelists—the Synoptic writers Matthew, Mark, and Luke—as opposed to that of John, who describes the matter from a different vantage point. And what haven’t learned commentators come up with to make this Gospel of John comprehensible! Sometimes one really has to wonder at everything that is said by rigorous scholars—things that would be so easy to see through if our time were not an era of the greatest possible belief in authority. Faith in infallible science has reached its peak today!

[ 22 ] Thus, even the opening of the Gospel of John has become something very difficult for theologians with a materialistic bent. The doctrine of the Logos, or the Word, has caused people great difficulty. They say to themselves: We would so much like everything to be simple, plain, and naive, and then along comes the Gospel of John and speaks of such lofty philosophical matters—the Logos, life, the light!—The philologist is accustomed to always asking where something comes from. With more recent works, people do the same. Read the studies on Goethe’s Faust. Everywhere you’ll find evidence of where this or that motif comes from; for centuries, for example, all kinds of books have been scoured to see where Goethe got the word “worm” that he used. And so people also ask: Where did John get the concept of the “Logos”? The other evangelists, who spoke to simple, unpretentious common sense, do not express themselves in such philosophical terms. It was further argued that the writer of the Gospel of John must have been a person with a Greek education, and it was then pointed out that the Greeks had a writer in Philo of Alexandria who also spoke of the Logos. So it was thought that in educated Greek circles, when one wanted to speak of something lofty, one spoke of the Logos, and that is why John adopted this concept. And so this was again taken as proof that the author of the Gospel of John did not draw on the same tradition as the authors of the other Gospels, but—so it was said—he allowed himself to be influenced by Greek culture and accordingly reinterpreted the facts. And precisely the opening words of the Gospel of John

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

[ 23 ] prove that the Philo-inspired concept of “Logos” found its way into the mind of the author of the Gospel of John and influenced its presentation! |

[ 24 ] One would just like to quote the beginning of the Gospel of Luke to such people:

“Since many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the events that have taken place among us,
just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the Word have handed them down to us,
therefore, after carefully investigating all these things from the very beginning, I have decided it best to write an account of them for you, my dear Theophilus.” (Luke 1:1–3)

[ 25 ] Right at the beginning, it states that what he intends to recount is a tradition handed down by those who “were eyewitnesses and servants of the Word.” It is strange that John is said to have derived this from Greek philosophy and that Luke—who, according to this view, was one of the simple men—also speaks of the “Logos”! Such things should make even those who place their faith in authority realize that it is not actually precise reasoning that leads to such conclusions, but rather prejudice; it is the materialist lens that has brought about this view of the Gospel of John—that it should be placed alongside the other Gospels in the manner just described—which we can easily deduce from the fact that the Gospel of Luke also speaks of it. What is said by those who were eyewitnesses and servants of the Logos means that in ancient times the Logos was spoken of as something people knew and were familiar with. And this is what we must now keep particularly in mind so that we can delve more deeply into the first paradigmatic sentences of the Gospel of John.

[ 26 ] What is the person who used the word “Logos” or the word “Word” back then—in our sense—talking about? What is he talking about?

[ 27 ] You do not arrive at this conception of the Logos through theoretical explanations and abstract conceptual discourse; rather, you must use your heart to put yourself in the place of all those who have spoken of the Logos in this way, and experience their entire life of feeling. These people, too, saw the things around them. But it is not enough for a person merely to look at what is around them; what matters is how the feelings of their heart and mind are connected to these things, how they regard this or that as higher or lower, depending on what they see in them. They all turn their gaze to the kingdoms of nature surrounding them—minerals, plants, animals, and human beings. They call human beings the most perfect creatures and minerals the most imperfect. Within these respective kingdoms of nature, a distinction is again made between higher and lower beings. At different times, people have perceived this in very different ways.

[ 28 ] Those who spoke in the spirit of the Gospel of John perceived one thing above all else as deeply significant: they looked down upon the lower animal kingdom and let their gaze wander upward toward humanity—and traced a very specific path in this direction of development. Then one such adherent of the doctrine of the Logos said: There is one thing that most profoundly illustrates to us the superiority of higher beings over lower ones: the ability to let what lives within resound outward through the word, to communicate one’s thoughts to the world through speech. Such an adherent of the doctrine of the Logos would have said: “Look at the lower animal! It is mute; it does not express its pain or pleasure.” - Take the lower animals: they chirp or make other sounds, etc.; but this is merely the external scraping and rubbing of physical organs producing sound—just as a lobster can do. The higher we ascend, the more the ability develops for the inner self to manifest itself in sound and to communicate through sound what the soul experiences. And that is why, it was said, human beings stand so high above other beings—not only because they are capable of using words to describe their pleasure or pain, but because they are able to put into words and express in thought that which transcends the personal—that which is spiritual and impersonal.

[ 29 ] And among these adherents of the Logos doctrine, it was said: There was a time, before human beings existed in their present form, when it was possible for them to express their innermost experiences outwardly through words. There was another time before that. It took a long time for our Earth to evolve into its present form. — We will hear how this Earth came to be. — But when we examine earlier states, we do not yet find human beings in their present form, nor do we find any beings capable of giving voice to what they experience from within. Our world begins with mute beings, and only gradually do beings appear in our world who can give voice to their innermost experiences—beings who are masters of the word. But what appears last in human beings—so said the adherents of the doctrine of the Logos—was present earliest in the world itself. We imagine that human beings, in their present form, did not yet exist in earlier states of the Earth; but they were present in an imperfect, silent form and gradually developed into beings endowed with the Logos or the power of speech. The fact that they were able to do so stems from the fact that what appears in them last—the creative principle—was present from the very beginning in a higher reality. What breaks free from the soul was the divine creative principle in the beginning. The Word that resounds from the soul—the Logos—was there in the beginning, and the Logos guided the development in such a way that ultimately a being came into being in which it could also appear. What appears last in time and space was first there in the spirit.

[ 30 ] If you want to use an analogy to understand this, you could say something like this: Here I have this flower in front of me. This flower crown, this bell-shaped flower—what was it some time ago? It was a tiny seed. Within it lay the potential for this white bell-shaped flower. If that potential had not been within it, this bell-shaped flower could not have come into being. And where does the seed come from? It comes, in turn, from such a bell-shaped flower. The flower precedes the seed; and just as the flower precedes the fruit, so the seed from which this flower arose developed from the same plant. Thus the adherent of the doctrine of the Logos contemplated humanity and said to himself: If we trace back through evolution, we find in earlier states the still-silent human being, who was incapable of speech; but just as the seed comes from the flower, so the silent human seed comes from the speaking, word-endowed God in the very beginning. Just as the lily of the valley produces the seed and the seed in turn produces the lily of the valley, so the divine creative Word produces the mute human seed; and when the divine creative Word slips into the mute human seed to blossom anew within it, the original divine creative Word resounds from the human seed. If we look back at the development of humanity, we encounter an imperfect being, and the purpose of this development is that ultimately, as its flowering, the Logos—or the Word that reveals the innermost essence of the soul—appears. In the beginning, the speechless human appears as the seed of the human endowed with the Logos, and this human emerges from the God endowed with the Logos. Humanity springs from the speechless, mute human being, but ultimately the Logos—or the Word—is the primal beginning. —Thus, those who recognize the doctrine of the Logos in its ancient sense advance toward the divine creative Word, which is the primal beginning of existence, as the writer of the Gospel of John points out at the very beginning. Let us hear what he says in the beginning:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

[ 31 ] Today, he means to say, where is the Word today? Today, too, the Word is here, and the Word is with man! And the Word is human! And so the author of the Gospel of John connects humanity to God, and we do indeed hear a teaching that is easily understood by every human heart resound at the beginning of this Gospel of John.

[ 32 ] In this introductory lecture today, I wanted to describe to you once more—in more general terms and from the perspective of feeling and emotion—how an early adherent of the doctrine of the Logos originally perceived such words from the Gospel of John. And once we have immersed ourselves in the atmosphere that prevailed when these words were first heard, we will be all the better able to penetrate the deep meaning that underlies the Gospel of John.

[ 33 ] We will see how what we call spiritual science is a true rendering of the Gospel of John, and how spiritual science enables us to understand this Gospel of John all the more thoroughly.