The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Goethe Celebration

[ 1 ] For anyone who, within the context of modern intellectual life, likes to] reflect on the leading figures of recent times, the night of August 27–28 is an important night of remembrance. August 27 is, after all, the birthday of the greatest thinker of modern times, and August 28 is the birthday of the most universal, all-encompassing spirit. And so, on this night, our thoughts may bring together memories of the great philosopher Hegel, whose birthday is on August 27, and of Goethe, the universal spirit, whose birthday is on August 28. And then, as our thoughts turn back in remembrance to these two individuals, all manner of things associated with these thoughts come to mind; the distinctive character of these two great figures of modern times emerges before our soul, and we then look back with pleasure—comparing them to what we otherwise know of spiritual life—upon these two representatives of humanity, Hegel and Goethe. And much of what was said in our lecture yesterday may be connected to these two names.

[ 2 ] Hegel appears as the one among modern thinkers who has brought the experience of the inner world to its highest flowering. He appears as the one who can lead people today into the ethereal heights, into the luminous regions of thought; and for those who can allow themselves to be inspired by Hegel’s crystal-clear trains of thought, soaring in the ethereal heights, another spiritual current that has prevailed among humanity also becomes understandable. For Hegel can be compared—only if we let our sensibilities wander through the turning of the ages—to that Eastern flowering of the spirit which, through pure thought, has led us deepest into human spiritual life: to the philosophy of Vedanta. In a certain sense, he is the one who, within our Western world, has renewed the Luciferic element originating in India—yet in a different form. Anyone who can immerse themselves in the Vedanta works of the East will revere in them the highest flowering of that thought, which—with unspeakable devotion and the finest refinement of every single thought that a human being can grasp—composes a system of world thought. In Vedanta philosophy, we behold synthetic, compositional thinking in its highest flowering. And Hegel renews this pure thought, this thinking absolutely free from sensuality, in such a way that, with him, thinking itself becomes an organism in which one thought grows out of another. That is why it is so difficult, without preparation, to understand even the slightest thing from the ethereal heights of Hegelian thought. Those who delve into Hegel sense, on the one hand, the heights to which he carries them—where a fresh breeze of thought blows—and, on the other hand, the purity that permeates all these thoughts. Thus, we have, as it were, expressed the Luciferic principle in Hegel.

[ 3 ] On the other hand, in Goethe we find the universal spirit, whose gaze is spread across the vast tapestry of the external world, but who looks everywhere into the deeper spiritual foundations, so that from every plant, every animal, and all human and artistic phenomena, the spirit that reigns behind these phenomena emanates for Goethe, enabling him to awaken and invigorate the spirit in modern spiritual life from the perspective of the external world. Thus Goethe stands before us as the substance of the spirit and Hegel as the form of the spirit, and we find our way best into this modern spiritual life when we try, through the instrument of Hegel, to encompass the great spirit and the great soul of Goethe. Such thoughts come alive when, with the right memories, one allows the night of August 27–28—Hegel’s birthday followed by Goethe’s—to pass before one’s soul. That is why we wished to invite you today to commemorate these two great spirits of modern intellectual life, and we will commemorate them by first presenting here some of Goethe’s short cosmic poems, which lead to certain heights of spiritual life, and then a longer poem by Goethe that shows how he sought the path—and, in a certain way, was able to find it—into spiritual life. This will be followed by a reflection on the nature of Goethe’s spirit from a certain perspective, with which we will conclude today’s celebration.

Below is a recitation of the following poems by Marie von Sivers:

“One and All,” “Legacy”
“The Limits of Humanity,” “The Divine”
“Song of the Spirits Above the Waters,” “The Song of Muhammad”

[ 4 ] What follows now are those verses by Goethe that sprang from the highest source of the spirit when Goethe was about thirty-five years old. Those of you who have heard my lectures on several occasions will begin to grasp the spiritual significance of the thirty-fifth year in a normal human life. I have often pointed out the great significance that the thirty-fifth year of life held for Dante in relation to the conception of his great epic poem. What Goethe sought to express in his stanzas, which he titled “The Mysteries,” had matured within his soul during this important phase of his life. If we wish to bring to mind what it was that moved Goethe’s heart at that time, when he wrote the stanzas of “The Mysteries,” we can describe it best by saying that Goethe, at the age of thirty-five, established the symbol of the spiritual-scientific worldview. For there is no better program for the spiritual-scientific worldview today than Goethe’s poem “The Mysteries.” And later, in 1816, Goethe was asked what the various images in his poem “The Mysteries” meant. He did, admittedly, offer a not very detailed explanation after so many years in response to an external request, but even in this explanation we find, once again, something akin to a program for our worldview. We may say: Back then, when Goethe was inspired to write the poem “The Mysteries,” what we today call anthroposophy was alive and well in his soul. And in this poem, the call of spiritual science is sent out into the world with such grandeur, such power, and from such profound depths that even for a mind as great, for a soul as great as that which Goethe’s body housed, this poem had to remain a fragment. It was, so to speak, the soul that lived within it—too great to be given a poetic form. Thus, in “The Mysteries,” we have a fragment before us. With a certain inner rapture, we immerse ourselves in this fragment, sensing within it a modern spiritual life. Let us now allow the stanzas to pass before us and then add a few remarks about the distinctive nature of Goethe’s spirit and soul, so that through our concluding reflection we may find a way to draw to some extent.

Here is Marie von Sivers reciting the poem “The Secrets.”

[ 5 ] Anyone who allows this poem by Goethe to sink in cannot fail to recognize that it has been infused with inspiration from higher worlds. And anyone who has even the slightest inkling of how the life of the higher worlds has always revealed itself to humanity through significant symbols will recognize, in the symbols presented to us here, the eternal emblems of the great spiritual proclamations and revelations made to humanity from one epoch to the next. And then the soul that seeks to immerse itself in Goethe’s spirit will likely also sense an important revelation for our more recent stages of development.

[ 6 ] When a significant individuality strives toward existence through one of its incarnations, the entire nature and the entire type of this individuality are foreshadowed in various ways. We must not forget that the spiritual is the creative force behind the outer physical realm, the outer body, and that the soul—which enters a present incarnation from earlier incarnations with a certain state of maturity—prepares its outer physical form through various means so that it may become a suitable instrument for the mission of the individuality that has emerged from another incarnation. And so, for certain individualities, the outer destinies of life from earliest childhood become something like symbols of what the individuality strives to bring forth in order to shape the outer physical life and outer life in general, so that it may become an instrument for the significant spiritual individuality. Therefore, whenever the essence of Goethe’s soul is to be addressed, we must repeatedly recall the childhood event—already mentioned many times to most of you—that took place when he was seven years old. Even as a seven-year-old, the boy was in many respects dissatisfied with what people could tell him about the nature of the spiritual-divine. Already at the age of seven, the boy had a different relationship to the divine-spiritual world than everyone around him, and he also needed a different means of expression for his soul, which had developed from a previous incarnation. One day he took a music stand from his father, placed minerals and plants on it, and, with a childlike, intuitive soul, saw in them symbols for the outer tapestry of the senses—symbols behind which he sensed the spiritual world. And behind all of this, with his intuitive soul, he already sought to grasp the weaving and working of the spiritual behind the tapestry of the sensory. So he, the young seven-year-old boy, placed a small incense stick on top of the music stand, waited for the rising morning sun, took a magnifying glass, focused the rays of the rising morning sun, and the concentrated rays fell upon the incense stick, so that it was ignited by the fire of the rising sun’s rays. And when the old man recounted this childhood experience, he could not describe it in any other words than to say that, as a seven-year-old child at that time, he had wanted to kindle a fire at the very sources of nature itself—creative nature—in order to offer a sacrifice to the great God who reigns spiritually behind the veil of the senses. That was Goethe’s worship when he was a seven-year-old child. That which had woven its way into his physical being now grew, striving ever farther and farther and seeking ever more deeply into the spirituality veiled behind the outer tapestry of the senses. And so we see how, after his arrival in Weimar, Goethe uttered those meaningful words, preserved for us in his “Prose Hymn to Nature” and which seek, with such sacred fervor, to grasp that which, as spiritual life, runs through the outer tapestry of the senses—and with which the soul can unite when it is prepared for such a form of worship as the seven-year-old boy had practiced: “Nature! We are surrounded and embraced by her.... She has brought me in; she will also lead me out... She will not hate her work... Everything is her fault; everything is her merit!”

[ 7 ] You will find grand, powerful words in this prose hymn to nature—words that reveal how that same soul has grown, becoming ever more mature. For such an individual, however, not only does what she first placed on the altar in the seventh year of her life—like the great symbols of nature—become a symbol, but so does everything she experiences in life from day to day, from hour to hour. Thus, when we follow Goethe’s life closely, we see how, as a young student in Leipzig, he immersed himself in the science of nature, already seeking spiritual creation behind everything. But it was also at that time that something passed by his soul that, in the highest sense of the word, was capable of inspiring this soul—which was so prepared to roam far and wide in search of God—to at the same time sense God in its depths. Toward the end of his studies in Leipzig, death passed Goethe by. He was near death due to a serious illness, and this experience at the time signified an infinite deepening of his being. And then he returned once more to his hometown, Frankfurt. There we find him engrossed in the writings of medieval esotericism—that very medieval esotericism which is regarded as madness by today’s spiritual life, yet from which a deeper spiritual life shone forth to Goethe, so that he felt inspired to engage in practical esoteric exercises as well. It was then that the first ray of what can truly be called inspiration was kindled in Goethe’s soul.

[ 8 ] There are certain kinds of inspiration that have such an effect that the soul immediately reflects the result of the inspiration back to the source as a mirror image. But there are also kinds of inspiration that have such an effect that the person being inspired is barely aware that the seed of inspiration has taken root in his soul. For this seed must rest within, unconsciously, lingering and waiting for years, decades, perhaps even centuries, until it can bring forth its fruits—fruits that can then transcend and make use of the instrument of the physical body to such an extent that a manifestation and revelation of higher life can radiate from such a personality. The inspiration that came to Goethe from a mysterious source in Frankfurt was of this nature. But we see immediately how this inspiration works in Goethe’s spirit, how he approaches everything in such a way that a secret light shines into his soul from all the events of life. Countless experiences then had a profound effect on Goethe, and it would take many hours if I were to tell you everything that influenced Goethe’s very inner being during his subsequent stay in Strasbourg. Just as strongly as what I can mention in this brief time, many other things had an effect that time does not permit me to highlight today. Let me recount just one event that affected Goethe in Strasbourg and sank deep into the hidden seed of inspiration: it was his encounter with another figure of that time who, in the deepest longing, strove for what we today call the anthroposophical way of thinking. This figure was Herder, whom Goethe met in Strasbourg. Herder was the one who had immersed himself in the course of human development, who had sought to understand the various rays into which the sun of spiritual life divides itself as it sends its light into humanity. Herder’s mind had been permeated by Eastern and Western religious systems, and he was confronted with the idea that a shared divine essence must run through all of humanity’s religious ways of thinking and philosophies. From such ideas sprang what Herder elaborated in his book Ideas on the Philosophy of the History of Humanity, in which he allows the spiritual life of humanity to pass before his eyes in order to show how religions develop and how a spiritual-divine element lives in everything, evolving ever further and further from the imperfect toward the perfect. But then Herder also sought to distill from what his spirit thus contemplated that which arises for the soul in the form of feelings and inner experiences. Thus Herder later wrote, as an emotional response to his reflections, yet at the same time as a call to humanity: “This is what you shall become if you carry within you that mindset that arises when you see the spirits living in the religions of humanity united in peace.” Thus he wrote his “Letters for the Promotion of Humanity.” Oh, the word “humanity” in those days, within the circle that formed around Goethe and Herder, was a word that did not have the abstract meaning it later acquired in the nineteenth century. The word “humanity” encompassed a rich, profound life within itself, and when one uttered the word “humanity”—humanitas—the soul was moved by humanity’s highest and most beautiful hopes for the future.

[ 9 ] But all of this had a very special effect on Goethe’s soul, which carried within it the seed of inspiration. For Goethe, by virtue of who he was, truly stood apart from all his contemporaries—indeed, from his entire era—in a very special way. There was something in him that could not be found in anyone else. This becomes particularly evident later, when the unique, wonderful bond of friendship between Schiller and Goethe blossomed; this was during the time when Schiller, in a somewhat different way, was likewise lifted to the highest heights of human emotion, just as Herder had been during Goethe’s time in Strasbourg. But we need only delve briefly into Schiller’s thoughts and reflections to then ask ourselves: How does what we find in Schiller manifest itself in Goethe’s spirit? Then we gradually come to sense something of the uniqueness of Goethe’s soul. Precisely during the time when his bond of friendship with Goethe was developing, Schiller grappled with the question that might be phrased something like this: How does a human being attain the highest unfolding of freedom? How is it possible for a human being to develop his inner soul forces harmoniously, so that, from his innermost being, he can rise above himself and develop—as Schiller says—a higher self, a higher human being, within the ordinary human being? Schiller answered this question for himself—if we briefly bring to mind his excellent work, Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man—by saying: When a person thinks they are engaging with their surroundings in a rational and intellectual manner, then a compulsion reigns in their inner life—the compulsion of logic. Human beings are led from thought to thought; they are slaves to the rules of logic; they are not free. But when human beings turn their gaze outward toward the sensory world, sensory experiences act upon them as streams of stimuli; they have no control over them, they are not free; they are slaves to the sensory world. Thus, human beings are placed between two worlds. They cannot be free. When a person becomes more and more entangled in the sensory world with his passions, his instincts, and his desires, he descends, and the spiritual withdraws from him. When a person loses himself to logical necessity, he ascends into abstractness, and the spiritual likewise withdraws from him. He may then become a person of duty who slavishly submits to a categorical imperative; but he becomes, in fact, the slave of that categorical imperative. There is, however, one thing, says Schiller, and that is when the human soul itself unfolds in the way we see the spirit at work in a work of beauty, in a work of art. When we have a work of art before us, we have something sensory before us, says Schiller, but through it the spirit—which has created a form for itself—shines and radiates, and we then have something both sensory and spiritual; we do not succumb to the sensory, for it is purified and ennobled by the spirit that illuminates it. We do not succumb to the abstract spirit of logic. Here the spiritual approaches us in such a way that it descends. The person who develops his soul in this way comes to do what he ought to do, not because it is commanded of him as a duty, but because he loves what is his duty. And the spirit that develops in this way need not flee from sensuality; it need not say: “Let passions and instincts be cast aside.” For they are purified, cleansed, and are the expression of the spirit. This is the beautiful soul, as Schiller envisioned it, which attains freedom because it brings the spirit down into sensuality, spiritualizes the sensual, and—rising from sensuality to the spirit—illuminates the spirit with the light of the soul. Oh, it was a momentous time when the soul of European intellectual life thus immersed itself in the great ideals of humanity. That was what lived in Schiller’s soul as he walked alongside Goethe, bound to him in deep friendship.

[ 10 ] How did such a thought affect Goethe? This is what characterizes Goethe’s soul: Goethe was deeply drawn to this idea of Schiller’s; he was completely filled with it. But something else stood before his soul. He said to himself: “That is merely a thought; that is an ideal of thought.” Life is infinitely richer, especially when viewed from a spiritual perspective. — As a thought carried along in a straight line, the thought was, to him, indeed a supreme ideal; yet it was too meager to express the entire realm of the human soul, which ascends to the heights of spiritual life, to true liberation. What became of that thought in Goethe’s soul? It became what we encounter now, after the original seed of inspiration had ripened further within Goethe. Drawing on the Schillerian thoughts just mentioned, Goethe wrote his “Fairy Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily,” in which we can sense a secret revelation of what Goethe’s soul was striving for. Here we have not merely two or three names for the soul forces; here we have a grand, powerful tableau of twenty symbolic, real figures, led by the four kings: the golden, silver, bronze, and mixed kings; here we have the beautiful lily, the stream, and so on. Then, in this “Fairy Tale of the Beautiful Lily and the Green Snake,” you can find a description presented in a thoroughly esoteric manner of how the soul forces—expressed through these figures—must relate to one another within the developing soul, and how they must interact, as in spherical harmonies, in order to bring about the blossoming of the human soul. That is the secret of this fairy tale: that we understand how everything described there regarding the relationships between the characters expresses the relationship of the harmonizing soul forces that lead the human being upward toward the blossoming of spiritual life. What Schiller also perceived as a problem was reflected with infinite richness from Goethe’s soul. Therefore, we should not be surprised that in the mid-1880s, when Goethe was about thirty-five years old, even Herder’s more philosophical aspirations—which had made a great impression on him—did not unfold in abstractions, but rather in a rich tableau of the soul. Even earlier, before the “Fairy Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily” was written, Goethe had already shown in the “Secrets” the path the soul must follow to ascend to the spiritual heights, and he showed it as it emerged from the impulse of those inspirations he had received from a mysterious source in Frankfurt. That is why he calls the mysterious figure—who, as the Thirteenth, is the leader of the Twelve—Humanus. But at the same time, this Humanus represented for him something far deeper than what today’s abstract thinker associates with the word. For him, Humanus is a name for the primordial human being, for the vast and all-encompassing human nature that, uniting all forces, strives toward the heights of the soul’s life. Oh, Goethe knew that the life of the soul is a rich one. Today you heard two sentences spoken by Goethe that should be deeply engraved in the souls of those who seek abstract harmonies everywhere. One of the poems just recited, which spoke of the inner essence of things, ends with the words:

Only in appearance do moments stand still.
The Eternal continues to stir within all things;
For everything must dissolve into nothingness,
If it is to persist in being.

[ 11 ] An expression of a cosmic mystery, an expression that the human mind presents to the soul! The next poem begins after the last line of the previous poem: For everything must dissolve into nothingness if it is to persist in being:

No being can dissolve into nothingness!
The Eternal continues to stir within all things,
May you find happiness in being.

[ 12 ] Anyone who wishes to judge everything from the perspective just described—even if there is a contradiction here or there—should, above all, take to heart how Goethe, when he sought to rise to the highest heights of cosmic events, was compelled to include two sentences that state exactly the opposite of one another. Why? Because the life that lies behind appearances is vast and comprehensive, and because our capacity for external expression is limited, and because, if we wish to encompass that rich life, we must describe and consider it sometimes from one side, sometimes from the other. We must look carefully to see how that which seeks to persist in being must ultimately dissolve. On the other hand, we must also be able to acknowledge that there is something within spiritual life of which we must say: it can sustain itself happily through being and persistence. — The world is infinitely deeper and richer than people usually believe. That is why, when Goethe felt the need to describe things not merely in abstract terms—in the middle of his life, at the age of thirty-five in his then-current incarnation—the thought came to him: Indeed, the most diverse religions are spread across the world; they exist here and there, and they are called upon to bring forth within themselves the blossoms of spiritual existence. — Goethe let the thought pass through his soul: When we turn our gaze to one religion or another, there is a point in each where it rises above itself and leads to a point hidden behind all religions. — Goethe has the various religions represented by the twelve personalities who gather in the mysterious monastery bearing the Rosicrucian symbol, indicating the Rosicrucians’ mission: namely, to unite the various religions, after they—rising above themselves—point to the great unity of spiritual life, which is represented by the Thirteenth, who is the guide and has ascended to such perfection that he is described in the most beautiful words, and is portrayed to us from the very beginning at the moment when he is touched by death. The poem depicts the moment when the Thirteenth is awaiting death, when he is to depart for the spiritual world, suggesting that what truly reigns over these Twelve is that which radiates from the worldviews united in love that extend across the globe. That was the thought that stood before Goethe’s soul. He wanted to express this thought in an appropriate way. He told himself: It must take place in a narrative set around Good Friday—that day which must be the eternal symbol of the great spiritual truth that spiritual life overcomes death everywhere. “The Mysteries” would have become a Good Friday poem if Goethe had been able to find the appropriate form for what stood so brilliantly before his soul at that time. And if we wish to glimpse the necessity of these thoughts, we may well recall on this occasion that, much later, on another Good Friday, a thought occurred to someone else as he gazed out from Lake Zurich at nature just beginning to awaken—the thought of what might be linked to Good Friday. For it was on a Good Friday that Richard Wagner felt the idea for his Parsifal welling up within him.

[ 13 ] When we allow such things to take effect on our soul, we sense something of the necessity that reigns in everything we encounter in the external sensory world. This is the kind of poetry Goethe sought to create. It is not always the fault of the one who can only bring it as far as a fragment. Sometimes the times themselves are to blame, as they have not yet provided the means to bring this or that to fruition. But now we understand why Goethe presents us, in his brother Markus, with a person who has cultivated within himself a state of mind purified of all that is impure in the outer earthly world and capable of entering our soul. That is why Goethe calls the one who had come so far as to have purified his soul of everything that can defile it from the earth a soul that looked as if it were from another earth. Thus Brother Markus goes forth to experience things of which Goethe himself says in the first two stanzas: What must be said will often seem as if this or that side path were being taken. One should not think that this is a mistake. — The poem contains such greatness that one should rather assume, in every instance, that one will only gradually mature enough to comprehend the infinite depths it holds, rather than engage in criticism. At the same time, however, we are reminded that what is at stake here are not experiences to be grasped by the senses, but rather ones that can be fully comprehended only by the spiritual soul that has transcended itself. Thus our brother Markus, this purified soul, is led before the temple, which expresses its essence through the cross entwined with roses as its symbol—that very symbol toward which have always looked those who, drawing from the spiritual substance of the West, have developed within themselves that disposition which seeks to lead the world’s various religions toward love and peace and toward the elevation of the human soul. The most beautiful and greatest expression of our worldview therefore lives on in this poem.

[ 14 ] Now, it would take a great deal of time if I were to go into the details; but even if I merely make a few allusions, you will recognize how this work of poetry is drawn from the entire Rosicrucian-spiritual, intellectual substance of the West. We are told of that Thirteenth One who leads the others, who may thus have within his soul that tendency which leads the individual worldviews beyond themselves toward the great unity. We are told what is also told of the great leaders of humanity, and what is nothing other than an expression of the great truths. We must see in this not merely a symbol, but the expression of great truths, of great realities. A star heralds the arrival of the soul of that Thirteenth, just as a star always heralds the arrival of another being into physical existence. Recall the stories about the birth of the Buddha and of Jesus, and understand from them what lofty nature Goethe sought to hint at through his Thirteenth within the mystery of European mysticism. Something else is said as well: that this Thirteenth was a personality who, in his earliest youth, overcame the otter that had coiled itself around his sister. The otter has always been the real symbol of that astral life which pulls a person down, which prevents them from ascending to the highest heights. From the serpent in the Garden of Eden on to all serpent symbols, you will always find, among the various positive serpent symbols, those that must be overcome. Thus, in our Thirteenth, you see the victor over the lower human nature that must be cast off. Even as a boy, he turns toward the sister—the sister of the spirit within us—for the spirit within us has its sister in the soul; he turns toward the soul and slays the otter of his own soul. Thus he matures into the higher life to which he is called; he matures in such a way that external life becomes for him a life of struggles, as they are described; he matures to the point where he takes this external life upon himself like a cross. Then we are told: This Thirteenth leads a group of Twelve; this group sits with him around a table at the love feasts and spiritual celebrations. Above each chair we see a symbol. Above the Thirteenth’s chair, we see once again the fundamental symbol of all European spiritual life: the Rose Cross. Above each of the other chairs, we see different symbols that reveal to us spiritual life divided into various rays.

[ 15 ] And now I would just like to briefly remind you of what was said yesterday—about the two currents of humanity. The southern current is rooted in the cultivation of inner life, from which people sought the spiritual world in the post-Atlantean era. This current struggles in particular against the adversaries within one’s own soul—against the repulsive, hostile astral forces. These forces, which the soul must overcome within itself if it is to find the realm of the spiritual—a realm veiled by the splendor of the soul world—were symbolically expressed by the fiery dragon, the dragon in the fire. And a whole range of worldviews arose from the idea that the soul ascends into the higher world after defeating the dragon—after defeating the beings that blaze and rage within and around the human being. Among the northern peoples, we find the idea of penetrating the veil of the outer sensory world. Here we see what penetrates into the outer sensory world. Here we see another symbol emerge. When a person wishes to penetrate through what the outer sensory world sets against them, they must confront this sensory world with strength. The way in which a person must triumphantly confront the outer sensory world if he wishes to penetrate through it into the spiritual realm is depicted in a moving way in the image of the ancient god who thrusts his hand and arm into the wolf’s jaws and loses them, so that the ancient European god of war, Ziu, is one-handed. This image, which is meant to represent victory over the external world, appears in the most varied ways, particularly in the form where the esoterically victorious hero thrusts his hand into a bear’s maw, and blood gushes out as the excess ego. Blood is the expression of the ego; here, therefore, it is the image of excessive egotism. The dragon is the symbol of the southern worldview; the hand thrust into the bear’s maw is the symbol of the northern worldview. Six sat on one side—the representatives of the southern worldview—and six on the other side as representatives of the northern worldview. On one side, next to the Thirteenth, above the chair was the symbol of the dragon glowing in the fire; on the other side, next to the Thirteenth, above the chair was the symbol of the one who conquers the outer world, who thrusts his hand into the bear’s maw so that blood gushes forth. Goethe intended to depict each of the chairs in this way. It was a great heroic task to show how, on the one hand, the soul must penetrate through the fabric of the soul’s life into the realms beyond its own soul life, and how, on the other hand, the soul must break through the tapestry of the sensory world to reach the spiritual life out there in the world. That is why you yourself will find these images of the tapestry and the fabric applied here. And so we could go through it line by line and find the stages that the human soul must go through until reaching that point where one can speak of the human being who has become a victor by rising above himself. Into this community the purified soul of Brother Markus is led; he is led into it at the very moment when, in the hour of the Thirteenth’s death, the Twelve unite with one another, both spiritually and physically. He himself, in his simplicity, should have become the guide—this is what Goethe sought to depict—of these twelve directions. Goethe, himself an initiate ascending toward the unity of religious life, had set out to describe this path.

[ 16 ] But this description could only extend as far as the forecourt. There, after Brother Markus has allowed the meaningful impressions to take effect on his soul—where, in a gentle sleep, which is a clairvoyant sleep, he finds himself entering the world that has been brought forth within him through the meaningful symbols—he awakens from this clairvoyant sleep. Upon awakening, he hears strange sounds ringing out, as if the harmonies of the spheres were trying to sound softly. How the harmonies of the spheres move the bodies in a round dance is hinted at in that the symbolized world forces move, as in a round dance, to the strange music. Then the great vision of humanity’s future dawns. There are three aspects of human nature; we call them the Spiritual Self, the Life Spirit, and the Spiritual Man, or we call them Manas, Budhi, and Atma. These are the seeds that slumber within our nature; these are the blossoms of youth in the human soul. If we look upon them, we can say: They exist today in embryonic form; they will unfold in every individual through the successive earthly states. - We see them today as faint shadows, like the “youths” in our soul, who emerge when we are able to look up to where our gaze can behold the future of humanity. This future of humanity lies before Brother Markus’s eyes. He looks into the future, in which the soul forces—which today are the three youths: Manas, Budhi, Atma—will develop. They flit by, but they leave behind in the soul that meaningful sensation which is the seed of a life of spiritual progress. For this is the distinctive feature of all humanity’s spiritual creations: that they leave sensations behind in the soul, and the fundamental impulse—which represents the seed—is this: I want to participate in the spiritual evolution of humanity, so that the Spirit may flow more and more into all outer bodies, so that it may descend through the instrument of the human being and, ever more deeply, first animate the material, then spiritualize it, and, to the extent that it is possible, redeem it. Goethe, too, wanted to turn his Good Friday poem into such a poem of redemption, depicting the Resurrection.

[ 17 ] Let us try to allow our contemplation of this poem to take root within us, so that its loftiest words may continue to speak in our souls! As anthroposophists, may you become souls who embrace this program! Let each of you continue to develop what Goethe planted as a seed and cast into the course of human evolution; then the poem that Goethe wanted to—and had to—leave unfinished will be brought to completion within humanity! And that is what matters: not who completes this or that, but that the fruits ripen within humanity, fruits that lead people into the spiritual world.