The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Seventh Lecture

[ 1 ] A common feature of all ancient religions is the idea that if a person wishes to act harmoniously in life, he must first wage a certain inner struggle. If he is unwilling to do so—that is, to wage this inner struggle—then this is reflected as disharmony and conflict in the outer world. [This idea plays out in the lower levels of consciousness. The power of insight tells us:] If the individual human “I” is to develop, a person must become master of the desires and passions in their astral body. The struggle that must eventually arise between the “I” and the lower nature must be brought to a conclusion within the person; otherwise, they will come into conflict with the external world. This is symbolically depicted by the ancient Hebrews in the story of Cain’s fratricide. [Behold what a person achieves when, with his good nature, he does not slay the evil passions—the brother within his soul. This struggle—what is described to us in the story of Cain and Abel—must take place within the soul; otherwise, it will play out externally. That was one warning. The other referred to the deeper insight that we call occult clairvoyance.]

[ 2 ] For religious texts often conceal profound symbols within the events they describe. Everything that manifests on the physical plane has always first been a reality on the astral plane. The same ideas we find in the story of Cain are found again among another people, in a different form, based on the deeper insight that clairvoyance gave to the other peoples of the Orient. In order for a person, as an initiate, to be able to work in a certain direction in the world, he must first attain harmony through initiation. And with that, we have arrived at a very important chapter in the initiation myths of the ancient religions.

[ 3 ] We know that human beings consist of four bodies—the physical body, the etheric body, the astral body, and the ego—which have gradually developed over the course of evolution. During the Lemurian era, when only the physical and etheric bodies had developed, the seeds of the I-body were already present, although it was not to emerge in human beings until after the end of the Atlantean period. At that time, a close connection arose between the I and the physical body on the one hand, and between the astral body and the etheric body on the other.

[ 4 ] The physical body has sprung from the spirit of the cosmos; just as water is condensed into ice, so the physical body is spirit compressed into form. If we wish to discover the origin of humankind and understand the physical body, we must seek the spirit within the cosmos.

[ 5 ] The fatherly principle of the cosmos is crystallized in the physical body. Because of this, a person inherits everything related to the physical body from the father, from the paternal grandparents.

[ 6 ] The “I” is closely connected to the physical body; therefore, a person [inherits] his or her entire constitution from the father. For the “I” is dependent on certain characteristics of the physical body and is hindered in its activity when the physical constitution is weak. It is only through the physical body that the “I” can express itself here [on Earth].

[ 7 ] The etheric body, in turn, has crystallized from the maternal principle of the cosmos; the characteristics associated with it are therefore inherited through the maternal line, from the maternal grandparents. The same is true of astral abilities; due to their close connection with the etheric body, these, too, are inherited from the maternal side.

[ 8 ] [This is the secret of heredity: what shapes and forms comes from the maternal, because the etheric crystallizes from the mother principle of the cosmos. Because the “I” is more closely connected to the physical, the human “I” structure is inherited from the paternal line; the astral aspect, on the other hand, along with the etheric, derives more from the maternal principle. The ego itself comes from previous incarnations, but it relies on the specific characteristics of the physical body to express itself fully. If our physical body is weak, for example, the ego will show less courage.]

[ 9 ] People who have had insight into the laws of the spiritual world have emphasized this, even if they have not expressed it in exactly the same way. Goethe, for example, says: “From my father I have my stature and a serious approach to life; from my mother, my cheerful disposition and a love of storytelling.” If we apply this rule correctly, we will come to understand much of what we encounter regarding the relationship between children and parents. Artists and poets, whose qualities have their roots in the astral realm, usually inherit their talent from their mother’s side.

[ 10 ] When a person, as an initiate, wishes to work in the world, a new behavior emerges within them; a change occurs in the relationship between the bodies. Above all, the physical body must lose its power over the person. Whether the initiate wishes to develop into a seer, a magician, or something else, he must first and foremost fight the physical body within himself with all his strength—he must kill the physical body within himself. In the ancient worldview, this is symbolically expressed with the words: “Kill the father principle within yourself—that is, the physical body—and unite yourself with the mother principle.” Only when we have overcome the physical can we unite with the etheric principle—that is, with the mother principle. When we have conquered the physical life within us, we begin to live through the organs of the etheric body; we begin to see and hear with spiritual eyes and ears. The person who kills the father principle unites with the mother principle.

[ 11 ] During initiation, this fact posed a terrible danger, especially in times when people did not adhere so strictly to the old, rigorous rules. The clairvoyant of antiquity had to know what he was dealing with. For if an immature person—whose ego was undeveloped or whose astral body was impure—had overcome the physical and united with the Mother Principle, his fate in the world would become truly tragic. The disharmony that he should have fought against and overcome within himself now manifests in the outer world, where his thoughts become real images.

[ 12 ] In Oedipus, we have an example of a person who attained astral clairvoyance through means that were not entirely pure. His astral body was obscured, so that he could not see or penetrate into the spiritual realm. Oedipus did not understand the oracle’s words—that he was to become an initiate, but that he must first kill his father and marry his mother—because he was not pure enough within; he did not understand what was meant by an initiate. In his play, the poet depicted these inner experiences as events in the physical world.

[ 13 ] The consequences of a degenerate, imperfect initiation are reflected in the Oedipus drama just as they are in Cain’s fratricide. Oedipus blinds himself—a symbol that the old initiation is drawing to a close. The same idea is symbolically expressed in the tale of the “man born blind.” Through the old initiation, people had become blind to the outer world; with the old art of clairvoyance, they could no longer rise to the spiritual world. Instead of leading to clarity and development, the old path now led only to darkness and confusion. In Oedipus, who deprived himself of his sight, we see how the old, degenerate fate of initiation is fulfilled.

[ 14 ] With Jesus, a new light was to dawn upon humanity, and initiation was to take on a new form. People had become blind to the physical world and to the forces underlying it. But initiation was to take on a new form, and a new light was to dawn upon humanity. With the “I,” a new impulse was to be given, and this impulse was to open people’s eyes to the new light that had come into the world. In Jesus, the declining old world was to be united with the rising new one. How the old darkness, the old spirituality, vanished before the rising light—before Jesus—and how they performed their final act in the presence of this rising light is not recounted in the Gospels, but has always been described in the esoteric Christian schools of initiation.

[ 15 ] [Just as Cain’s fratricide embodies the unresolved struggle between the astral body and the ego, so too does the drama of Laius and Jocasta: the unpurified initiation.] This legend, in which a profound truth lies hidden, goes as follows: Once upon a time in Asia, there was a married couple who had no children. Then the oracle announced to them that they would have a son, but that they would be forced to bury him, for he would kill his father and marry his mother after first killing his brother. For he would possess all the spirituality that existed in the world, yet be in disharmony with everything and everyone in the outer world. Naturally, the parents did not want this child, who would bring so much misfortune upon them and himself, but due to their own weakness, they had him nonetheless. So they abandoned the child on the island of Skarioth, where the queen found him and took him in, since she herself had no children. Later, however, she gave birth to a son, and the adopted child, feeling cast aside, killed his brother. So he had to flee and was taken in by Pilate. There he got into a quarrel with a neighbor, an old man, killed him, and married the man’s wife. Later he learned that he had killed his father and married his mother. So he fled from there as well and was taken in by the One who is full of mercy, Christ Jesus. This man was Judas Iscariot.

[ 16 ] This legend is an expression of the entire ancient worldview; the father principle—or the overcoming of the physical body—and union with the mother principle were once an inner reality.

[ 17 ] The soul had matured in the process, but as the “I” developed, clairvoyance gradually faded, and darkness and confusion in relation to the external world took its place; and this darkness contributed to the death of the new light that was dawning. How the old worldview was able to extinguish the new light, and how this light was nevertheless able to prevail in the struggle and transform external disharmony into harmony through the spiritualization of all things—all of this is depicted in the Gospel of John.

[ 18 ] Even from a purely external, technical standpoint, this Gospel is a marvelous composition. As if written by a true artist, it demonstrates, in a single, continuous crescendo from the wedding at Cana to the raising of Lazarus, how Jesus’s soul and spiritual powers grew in direct proportion to the inch-by-inch withering of his physical body, and how the dying of the body—a process that had already begun at the baptism—was intimately connected with the so-called miracles that Jesus performed. For the overcoming of the lower nature had to appear, on the physical plane, as a kind of dying. This was a symbolic expression of the fact that the Father principle—physical life—had been overcome.

[ 19 ] This is also suggested by the fact that Jesus’s biological father was dead. The union with the mother principle is symbolically represented in the relationship between Jesus and his stepmother, who experienced a new birth at Jesus’ baptism when the pure, spiritualized etheric and astral bodies of his own mother were incorporated into her at that moment. It is clear from Jesus’ words to her at the wedding at Cana that he felt the bond between them: “What is happening here between you and me? How wonderfully I feel the maternal forces within me, how wonderfully my forces unite with yours—that is, with the forces of the Universal Mother!” Here, the ancient principle of initiation asserts itself in a purely spiritual way. The physical body is in the process of dying. Through the soul bond that connects him to his mother, he connects with the etheric forces, and thus the physical [body] becomes a source of healing effects. The fact that this took place at a wedding also has great symbolic significance.

[ 20 ] The miracle that Jesus performed at Cana was connected to the ancient principle of initiation, albeit in a new form. It was a direct effect from soul to soul through a power of love heightened to the highest degree, which was transferred from his own soul to the others and acted upon them, so that even their taste buds were altered and the water in their mouths tasted like wine. And this was no illusion; rather, the water had the same effect on the guests as if it were wine. The materialist, who believes in nothing but matter, would first and foremost demand a chemical analysis; but for the spiritually developed person, on the other hand, the chemical reaction is merely maya and merely a consequence of transmitted spiritual power. Here, the issue was not one of mere suggestion; rather, the effect of what was drunk was in every respect the same as that of wine.

[ 21 ] But did Jesus intend, through this miracle, to encourage people to use wine merely as a beverage for pleasure? Some Bible scholars believe so and describe the turning of water into wine as symbolic of Jesus’ mission to transform the tasteless, insipid water of the Old Testament into the fresh wine of the New Testament. But in interpreting this passage, they have misunderstood a key phrase. When Jesus’ mother pointed out to him that there was no wine, he replied, “My hour has not yet come”—that is, the hour when Christ was actually to begin his ministry.

[ 22 ] Like all great leaders and role models, Christ, too, had to wait for his time; people need a period of transition before they can embrace something new. Spiritual forces are at work in all matter, and so wine, too, had its mission to fulfill.

[ 23 ] Some peoples never drink wine, while others use it as an offering in religious ceremonies. Wine was not used in the ancient mysteries, but from a certain point onward, it was used in the offerings of the cult of Dionysus and then spread throughout the world along with that cult.

[ 24 ] In ancient times, blood ties were the only thing that united people, and these ties were much stronger then than they are now. But when the power of the self was to develop, a physical means was needed to nurture the life forces and to bring together people who were not united by blood ties. Wine was to be used for this purpose, and therein lay its mission in the past. But in the plan of Maya, there is nothing that is absolutely good; everything has only one task to fulfill, either in the physical or the psychic realm. What was once necessary for development—and was therefore a good thing—becomes harmful once that time has passed and it is no longer needed. By the time of Jesus, this mission of wine had been fulfilled. The “I” had developed, and through the use of wine, the old clairvoyance had gradually been rendered impossible. Jesus’ miracle at Cana symbolically expresses this truth. But this mission of wine—to bring people together and elevate the life spirits so that the physical body becomes an instrument for spiritual forces—was henceforth to be carried out through purely spiritual means. Jesus himself drinks water and also gives water to the guests, but imbues it with such power that it acts upon them like wine. Thus, the ancient cult of Dionysus was given a new form, a new power. The miracle at Cana also points to times to come. In our day, the use of wine is harmful. When we view the cult of Dionysus in this way, we find there, too, the profound meaning of the Gospels. For the Gospels speak not only to the naive and the ignorant, but also to the highly developed human being.

[ 25 ] The deeper one delves into them, the more one will find there, and future generations will find in them a never-ending source of knowledge and development. And the deeper people penetrate into the spiritual world, the better they will understand these records that have come down to us from the world of the angels. In the seven signs recounted at the beginning of the Gospel of John, we see how Jesus’ individuality grows and becomes more spiritual step by step. And in the latter part, we find practical guidance for our own development.