The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Eighth Lecture

[ 1 ] I would like to ask again today that absolutely no one take notes; I would like to ask this for all three days.

[ 2 ] First, I’d just like to make a few remarks. As you know from previous announcements I’ve made, you’re already somewhat familiar with our Christmas plays. So I don’t need to repeat today what you can find in the Christmas lectures about these plays. I just want to make a brief comment on a sentence that might not be fully understood, so that you know what is meant by it. The devil says:

If Adam and Eve had eaten Kleetzen,
it would have been a thousand times more useful to them.

[ 3 ] Kleetzen are fruits dried in the heat, specifically pears, but also plums. These Kleetzen are eaten mainly in rural areas at Christmas. They are also used to bake Kleetzenbrot—that is, bread is baked with these Kleetzen mixed right into the dough. In regions where the term “Kleetzen” is well known, an indecisive, somewhat cowardly man who is of little use is called a “Kleetzensepperl”—Sepperl, short for Joseph or Seppel; when speaking Standard German, one might say: “Dried-pear Joseph!”

[ 4 ] Everything else, I think, is understandable. The various peculiar pronunciations, such as “ein Rieben” and so on, are quite common in the vernacular. People don’t say “Rippe,” from which Eve was made, but rather “Rieben”; that’s not a turnip, but a rib. I think that, especially in this “Paradeis-Spiel,” the other expressions are understandable. Is there any other expression that stood out to you that’s hard to understand here? I don’t think so.

[ 5 ] Well, most of you were present at our discussions in Basel last Thursday. Since I consider it important that we be familiar with the ideas that were developed at that time, I would like to present today a very brief summary of what was said last Thursday regarding one particular point.

[ 6 ] I have explained that the wisdom of Christ was eradicated in the South by dogmatism—that very wisdom of Christ which had been preserved through Gnosticism, which itself has been eradicated; for what remains of Gnosticism is, in fact, only a very insignificant collection of fragments. Gnosticism was a remnant of primordial wisdom, gained through atavistic knowledge of the spiritual worlds in the ancient days of humanity. And this primordial wisdom—which still existed at the time of the Mystery of Golgotha and lived on among the Gnostics, providing an overview—albeit under different names—of that which underlies the hierarchies of world creation—this primordial wisdom was capable of forming a concept, an idea, of the significance of Christ. With the disappearance of Gnosis, the possibility of understanding the Christ Being as a cosmic being also vanished. In its place came dogmatism, which perpetuated certain incomprehensible concepts—the Creed and the like—regarding the Christ Being.

[ 7 ] What mattered in past centuries was not knowledge of the Christ, but the fact that the Christ turned toward the Earth and accomplished the Mystery of Golgotha. A true understanding of the Christ-being must first be regained through the newer gnosis—which is, however, something entirely different from the old gnosis—through spiritual science organized and oriented according to anthroposophy.

[ 8 ] What should be more important to us today as a starting point is the other point I made last Thursday, namely: that in the north, in very early, pre-Christian times—I said: in the 3rd millennium B.C.E.—a certain institution existed among a tribe that Tacitus calls the Ingævi, which was led by the mystery priests from a mystery site that had its center in what is now Jutland in Denmark. This mystery was able to take effect at that time precisely in these regions because all climatic conditions—and everything material, after all, also has its spiritual background—were different in these colder regions than in the southern, warmer regions. While the warm regions were more suited to developing the mysteries of the Christ Being within Gnosticism, the northern regions—due to the presence of ideas about ancient institutions—were more suited to forming perceptions specifically about Jesus.

[ 9 ] And so it came to pass that in the South, Gnosticism—I would say, the Easter Mystery, the Mystery of Christ—was better understood. However, as I have indicated, the concept of this was eradicated by dogmatism. In the North, on the other hand, people grasped more—not in their ideas, which were no longer alive, but in the feelings that outlast ideas—the Mystery of Jesus, the sense of the Child who comes into the world for the salvation of humanity. And this could be grasped precisely because the sentiment of the old institutions continued to have an effect. Thus it came to pass that while in the South it was the Church’s task to eradicate the Mystery of Christ, in the North it became her task to eradicate the Mystery of Christmas—and, more than that, I might say, to transform it into something harmless—which later in the Middle Ages gave rise to the Christmas tradition that truly aligns, I might say, with the Biedermeier mentality of more recent times, which was increasingly dawning in the materialistic era. For everything Biedermeier is, in every respect, a parallel phenomenon of materialism. But we must imagine that larger, more significant concepts lived on in Central Europe in the form of feelings well into the 8th, 9th, and probably even the 10th centuries, because these feelings were linked precisely to what still remained of the old traditions: processions and the like, which had been preserved in popular custom.

[ 10 ] I would like to briefly outline these ancient institutions for you once more. They consisted of the Ingävo people strictly regulating human life from these designated mystery sites, in that a specific time was designated during which procreation was permitted: the union of man and woman was allowed to take place only during the spring days, roughly around the time of the first full moon following the spring solstice. It was roughly the time we now call Eastertide. The rest of the year was frowned upon for human procreation, and anyone born at a time when they could not have been conceived during the designated period was, in a sense, regarded as not entirely honest.

[ 11 ] As a result, the births of those who were properly conceived all occurred during the winter season, corresponding to our current Christmas season, so that in those days, anyone who was to be regarded as a full-fledged human among the Ingävones had to be born during this time. Births therefore had to occur during the dark winter days, when snow covered the trees outside and people were in their homes, their primitive dwellings. And in a certain sense, to use modern terminology, every child was a Christmas child, a winter solstice child.

[ 12 ] This had an effect on people’s entire state of mind, on their spiritual constitution. Because there were no reproductive beings present during the other times of the year, the ancient, dreamlike clairvoyance was able to be preserved. And when the time of conception—that is, the corresponding days of spring—approached, states of unconsciousness set in. Conception took place entirely in a state of unconsciousness, not in waking consciousness. As a result, however, the woman receiving the child was truly conscious of the vision—the visionary appearance of a spiritual being descending from the spiritual worlds, announcing the coming child. Indeed, women were able to foresee the face of the child to come. And this annunciation, as we have seen, finds its echo in the time of the Gospel of Luke in the Annunciation to Mary by the Archangel Gabriel. We have seen that even in an Anglo-Saxon rune song there is a fragment of what existed in the ancient consciousness—that these institutions truly lived on the Jutland Peninsula and that they migrated eastward.

[ 13 ] Now, of course, humanity is in a process of evolution. Evolution is inherent in humanity. And this system could only have existed in very ancient times, for if it had persisted, that consciousness—that particular type of consciousness—which was then the task of the fourth and fifth post-Atlantean periods of evolution, could not have developed. The institution itself will scarcely be found anymore in the second millennium, even for clairvoyant consciousness, in the northern regions where it was widespread and lived among the various tribes, and it declines completely toward the first millennium, when human conception and birth are, so to speak, spread out over the entire year; where people no longer know of the descent from the cosmic world through the constellations, nor that much depends—for a human being’s birth on Earth and for their destiny—on their descending under a certain constellation. The conception and birth of human beings are spread out over the entire year.

[ 14 ] A parallel development to this is the emergence of a new consciousness, the emergence of the possibility of freedom for human beings, and so on. — One final thing, however, has remained: that which existed in the region of present-day Denmark moved from tribe to tribe, migrated eastward, and was then to be embodied in a being that was still conceived within such a context: the Christ Being. The one who became the firstborn among many brothers was, in a sense, born as the last among those who were conceived in connection with the cosmic constellation. In evolution, what remains of the old always unites with the new. But because people in northern regions had developed the sense that the human being appears on Earth during the season of consecration, the sense of Jesus in particular was able to take shape in these northern regions—I would say as an atavistic echo of those feelings. Therefore, you will find that in these northern regions people had, particularly with regard to the Gospel of Luke, the necessary feeling and a better understanding—that the Christmas mystery had a greater impact there than the Easter mystery, which was, after all, enclosed within the mysteries of the Church, whereas the Christmas mystery became universal.

[ 15 ] As I already hinted at last Thursday—and perhaps I will be able to elaborate on some of this in the coming days—it was customary, particularly every three years, to identify the first person born after the twelfth hour of the night, which we now call Holy Night, as it were, the firstborn of every fourth year; that is, after three years, the firstborn. This firstborn was then designated for certain procedures that were performed on him until he reached the age of thirty. Until he turned thirty, he was, in a sense, raised in great seclusion by the mystery priests. His soul was given a very specific direction. His soul was destined to have experiences of a very special kind during the first thirty years of his life, and these experiences were meant to lead him—though today, with materialistic ideas in one’s skull—pardon me, in one’s head—it is hardly possible to comprehend this— these procedures were intended to lead the individual, by the age of thirty, to an inner understanding of the connection between the human being and the all-encompassing spiritual realm. To this end, he was to be gradually guided through very specific inner experiences during those thirty years.

[ 16 ] First of all, this newborn, even as a small child, should come to understand how human beings are connected to the spiritual realm through their angel, and through this, set apart from the rest of the world and, so to speak, untroubled by the concepts that otherwise enter children’s souls from external life, he should be close to spiritual forces and spiritual events, and first and foremost develop a deep awareness of his connection with his guiding angelic being, the Angelos. Consequently, this particular child was endowed with a soul to which something special was imparted for reasons we may also discuss in the coming days. The uniqueness of this child was expressed by saying that such a child had become a “raven.” This was, in a sense, a stage of initiation that was widespread across vast regions, one that was also specifically included in the Persian Mithraic initiation, and about which I have already told you quite a bit in previous years. Then this soul was to ascend to the point of perceiving its connection with the spiritual worlds even more intensely; it was to be able, as it were, to relive the mysteries of the spiritual worlds within the soul.

[ 17 ] Such a thing would not be possible today, because our consciousness develops under different conditions; but in those ancient times, when dream consciousness could be developed, it was still entirely possible. Once the child had grown up and become a young man—it always had to be a boy; a girl was not considered suitable—he could be entrusted with the leadership of individual tribal territories, small tribal communities, and ultimately he was required to serve in administrative and governmental affairs of small communities. It is important to note, however, that these governmental affairs were managed in such a way that the one who was raised in this manner was always shielded from external influences; in particular, he was carefully protected from the influences of selfishness and from the influences that arose as a result of external experiences.

[ 18 ] As a result, during the final years of these thirty years, he came to be regarded, in a sense, as a representative of the entire tribe. And once he had reached the age of thirty, he was ready to consciously embrace his oneness with the entire cosmos. He became what was called a “Sun Hero” in the mystery temples. He was now destined to rule the tribe for three years. No one other than a person who had become such a “Sun Hero” could assume the throne. And he was permitted to reign for only three years. After three years, under the guidance of the Mystery schools, something else was undertaken with him, which I will discuss later. In all the institutions that originated with the Ingävo tribe, no one was allowed to be king for longer than three years, and no one could become king who had not undergone what I have outlined.

[ 19 ] In these communities, they see, as it were, the framework from which the Gospels later shaped the life of Christ Jesus. These communities date back to very ancient times. Of such things, only that which serves as a kind of symbol of the past is carried over into later times. And so that vision of the child’s proclamation to the mother was later carried over into a later era as the service of Nertus, as the service of Herta. And the fact that the act of conception in ancient times had to remain in the unconscious is still hinted at in the Nertus myth, as recounted by Tacitus a hundred years after the birth of Jesus; it is indicated by the fact that when Herta—who is both male and female, not strictly a woman, for she is the same as the god Nört in the north, the same as Nertus— when Herta approaches in her chariot—which is meant to be nothing other than the announcing angel—then those who have served her must be cast into the sea, killed, thereby echoing, in a way, the act of conception being submerged into the unconscious in those ancient times. In this myth of Herta’s chariot and the slaves who accompany it—but who, immediately after performing this service, are cast into the sea—in this Nertus myth, one senses an echo of what was once an astral reality, what was experienced astral. And the Nertus processions were still held in a wide variety of regions very late into history, well into the first Christian centuries. Even in Swabia and Württemberg there were such Herta processions. These were memories of ancient times. And for those who, through certain cultic connections—which were still very much present in ancient times as an echo of paganism—knew something of earlier millennia, there was, with regard to those processions featuring the Herta wagon, a sense of awareness that can be put into words something like this: “This is how our ancestors did it.” — And people brought together what could still be experienced as a singular event in the life of Jesus with what was general, what was more universal in ancient times; they understood it better in terms of their feelings, understood it better on an emotional level.

[ 20 ] The monks and priests therefore went to great lengths to eradicate everything that reminded people of these things, root and branch. It was precisely these things that were eradicated just as thoroughly in the North as Gnosticism had been eradicated in the South. Otherwise, through the connection between that ancient institution and the Mystery of Golgotha, one would have known that, insofar as it is the Christmas Mystery, it does not bring that which is old—that is, what is in accordance with nature—into the present; but that, in a sense, a substitute for it is provided at a higher level of consciousness in the experience of the Christmas Mystery. But people were not meant to be aware of this. It was to be pushed down into the subconscious, for certain powers must always reckon with the unconscious. And a large part of historical development lies in the fact that the conscious and the unconscious are brought together by those who understand how to do so.

[ 21 ] Indeed, we are right to say: From the fourth to the fifth post-Atlantean epoch—but also already from the third to the fourth—human consciousness has increasingly become “I”-consciousness, daytime consciousness. The old, dreamlike insights into the spiritual world have faded away. In the North, people expressed this by saying that the Vanir—a term related to “wähnen” (to imagine), connected to what was given through vision—had been replaced by the Aesir, who are now gods for the developed waking consciousness. This is how people in the North still spoke during the fourth post-Atlantean epoch, until all these memories were eradicated by the priests. By the fifth post-Atlantean epoch, when materialism—or rather “Christianity”—emerged, these things had already disappeared. But while in the south the Greeks had their gods—Zeus, Apollo, and the others—the Nordic peoples had the Aesir, a term related to “esse” (to be), and “esse” in turn to “being seen,” to being seen with the eye. In the third post-Atlantean epoch, however, the ancient peoples who inhabited northern Europe had the Vanir gods. And these Vanir gods were even closer to the people. Nertus—which later became Nört in the north—is one such Vanir deity who heralded every conception and birth.

[ 22 ] Now, I said that what once existed has, in later times, always been preserved, so to speak, in symbols; and so, too, what I have described to you so far only very briefly and in outline—which we may perhaps elaborate on further in the coming days—the realization of the—let me mention the name— becoming a “king,” becoming a “sun hero”—has been perpetuated, first in the cult myth and then in the myth itself. We distinguish the cult myth from the myth as such. The cult myth is the one in which, through external practices, external rituals—in a sense, a “dream performance”—that which recalled the ancient clairvoyant insights is reenacted.

[ 23 ] Thus, in the times when what I have explained to you was no longer effective, one finds an echo of this becoming-king in the so-called Baldur myth—the myth of the god Baldur, which was performed as a mystery play among the various tribes. It once existed as a reality; then it was performed as a mystery play; then it became merely a myth that was told. And then it was eradicated by the monks and priests. Baldur is already an Aesir god, which means that, as a ruling spiritual power, he belongs to the age in which human beings had already awakened to ego-consciousness. The Vanir gods had already faded away, but Baldur is at the same time the representative of that being who was to become king—that firstborn being born every three years.

[ 24 ] If it is now recounted that Baldur, at a certain time in his life, had dreams that foretold his death, and if this was later carried out, it does not merely mean that he sensed his physical death approaching; rather, it means that Baldur had served as king for three years, and after these three years, he had ascended from his previous state of consciousness to an even higher one. Until then, he had been shielded from being affected by the external materialistic world. Such a king was, after all, meant to live within the priesthood so that all selfishness could vanish from his mind and not seep into him. He was not allowed to be king for longer than three years. After three years, Baldur sensed the end of his kingship approaching. But then, according to these ancient beliefs, he was also ready to be touched by the outside world. Before that, he had to reign. However, he was to reign only in accordance with the intentions of the spiritual world. Then, however, he was to become something else; he was to enter the outside world.

[ 25 ] For someone who had never touched her before, this was truly a kind of death. This was reflected in his dreams. It is described as though the gods heard of these dreams and became troubled. The story goes: When Baldur, having completed his reign as king—we must always consider the human aspect in connection with the divine, as is the case in ancient mystery traditions—sensed that this time was approaching, and the gods, that is, the mystery priests, became alarmed, they had all beings swear an oath not to harm Baldur—all beings and all conditions on Earth. Only a single, insignificant herb—the mistletoe, the Christmas plant—had been forgotten. But Loki, the enemy of the Aesir, discovered this and arranged for the mistletoe to be used during the festival of the gods that was taking place—that is, during the moment when the god Baldur came into contact with the material world.

[ 26 ] We also have an ancient Christmas celebration, and the mistletoe custom associated with Christmas remains with us today as a reminder of this old Christmas tradition, which was linked to the idea that a new king must take the place of the old king. This connection to the material world is now depicted in the play and in the myth through the fact that all beings who have sworn an oath not to harm Baldur are used by the various gods. They throw things at Baldur; they shoot at him: nothing—no plant, no animal, no disease, no poison—can harm him. Only Loki had scouted out the mistletoe, brought it into the community of the gods—that is, the priesthood—and handed it to the blind god Hödur, Höd. Höd, Hödur says: “What am I supposed to do with the mistletoe? I am blind; I cannot see where Baldur is standing, so I cannot shoot at him like the other gods.” — But Loki pointed him in the right direction, and he was able to shoot at Baldur with the mistletoe branch. Baldur was wounded and died.

[ 27 ] Thus, Hödur was the one who appeared as the representative of the outer material world, insofar as this material world is not understood in its connection with the spiritual, but lives in the world like a parasite. “Höd” is also the ancient name for battle and war, while “Baldur,” as it has been preserved in more recent times, goes back to other terms, the best of which is still preserved in Anglo-Saxon. According to the explanations I have given in recent days, “day” is present even in earlier stages of the language itself through sound shifts: “Bal day” is actually a possible name, albeit in Anglo-Saxon, and would be translated as “The Shining Day” or “The Day of Light,” thereby expressing the connection between Baldur and the consciousness of the day—that is, the consciousness that first came to humanity in the fourth post-Atlantean epoch. Hödur is the representative of the material world, of darkness, and at the same time of struggle and conflict. Baldur is the representative of understanding, of insight, and of light—specifically, the light that shines upon the human soul in the state of consciousness that has developed since the fourth post-Atlantean epoch.

[ 28 ] Thus, we have presented a special version of the Christmas mystery through the Baldur myth. The awareness of the connection between the Baldur myth and the Christmas mystery has, after all, been eradicated by the monks and priests. For Baldur embodies some of the positive qualities of Lucifer, while Hödur embodies some of the positive qualities of the later Mephistopheles-Ahriman. By “good,” I do not mean morally good, but rather necessary for development. Such things, however, are in turn connected to the entire course of evolution. In the fourth post-Atlantean epoch, it was still possible for human beings, from a certain point onward, to be guided into the spiritual world in the old way, as was still the case in these Nordic mysteries. This had to be changed again for later times, for the still subtle form—which later existed only in an atavistic sense—the still subtle, not yet firmly established form, the clairvoyant form of the fourth post-Atlantean epoch that still appeared with an echo of dreamlike quality, could not withstand the coarser demands of the materialistic age. And this relationship between the ancient clairvoyance of the fourth post-Atlantean epoch and the later form is expressed in the myths through the contrast between Baldur and Hödur. What forces are actually at work here, and what is the underlying reason that Baldur—the representative of human consciousness that can be illuminated by the Divine—can be killed by Hödur, the god of battle, war, and darkness, under the influence of the evil power Loki? The underlying reason is that, just as our age has long been—and will remain so for some time to come—there must always be an interplay between light and darkness. It is, in fact, nothing but religious egoism to lead people to believe that anything in the physical world, in the world of Maya, can be entirely good. Every light has its shadow, and it is precisely the true penetration of this insight—that every light has its shadow—that is extraordinarily important and significant.

[ 29 ] Take a specific case. Under the influence of the Christmas Mystery, we will now be able to delve deeper into some of the things we have discussed recently. Take a specific case. I have often hinted at this to you: When spiritual science becomes more widespread among people, it will, for example, also influence medicine, the art of healing. People will discover certain more physical methods of healing for mental illnesses, and more spiritual methods of healing for physical illnesses. That this is not possible today—I have told you why that is: simply because sin exists through the law, not the law through sin. As long as the laws operate in such a way that materialistic medicine is the norm—and that is the case today—the individual, no matter how profound his insights may be, can do nothing and should do nothing. But a time will come—and it is likely not far off—when humanity’s karma will have progressed to the point where medicine, the art of healing, will incorporate the impulses arising from spiritual knowledge. I merely wish to hint at this, for what matters to me at this very moment is something else. Knowledge of the healing forces is inseparable from knowledge of the disease-causing forces; one cannot impart one without the other. No one in the world can come to know the healing forces without also receiving knowledge of the disease-causing forces. Therefore, you will understand the role that a person’s moral integrity plays when it comes to matters of serious consequence. For whoever can heal a person spiritually can also make a person spiritually ill—and to the same degree. Therefore, such truths can, of course, only be conveyed to human beings by the gods once a level of morality has been attained such that the remedy cannot be turned into poison.

[ 30 ] But this is not only true of this example, which deals with an abnormal physical or mental state in humans; it is also true of what takes place in social life. For you will surely have seen clearly from our recent reflections that in the social life of humanity, too, there are forces at work—both good and bad—that are guided by those who understand the art of leadership, and that are often guided in remarkable ways. You can imagine: it is simply necessary for such things to happen so that humanity may learn, through its own efforts, to achieve the good. — I am well aware of how little seriously these matters are taken even within our own ranks, and how philistine objections are so often raised against them; but that is simply the way it must be in our time.

[ 31 ] Just as in individual life, so too in social life: certain impulses can be directed and guided in one direction or another. In social life in particular, it is still often possible today to draw upon the unconscious—and every age has its own unconscious. And as soon as one takes the unconscious or subconscious into account, one achieves effects quite different from those of today’s consciousness, for today’s consciousness will not attain its cosmic context in a natural way until the sixth post-Atlantean epoch. So whenever one takes the unconscious into account today, one draws upon elements from the fourth post-Atlantean epoch in a Mephistophelean or Luciferic manner. Now, it is by no means inconsistent with our aspirations, in these serious times, to apply such general truths to the particular, to the specific case; for it is fitting for us not merely to engage in theosophical childishness, but to gather serious insights that intervene in reality, even if these serious insights place demands on the impartiality of our feelings. And it is also a Christmas sentiment to resolve to approach the seriousness of life. In our time, the Christmas spirit simply must not consist solely in the voluptuous indulgence in all manner of things that are called “holy Christmas tree feelings,” but rather in sensing the connection with the serious and even shattering experiences of the present.

[ 32 ] You can really see this very clearly in people’s outer lives: what happens when you influence people at the subconscious level. Just as one can hypnotize an individual and, once hypnotized, have control over them—commanding them to do things they might never have thought to do while in a non-hypnotized state—just as one can alter an individual’s state of consciousness by, so to speak, bringing a state of consciousness that was normal in much earlier times into the present day in order to achieve various things, one can also hypnotize human communities. For the individual human being—who, in our physical world, is a more powerful entity than a collective entity—a more significant dimming of consciousness is necessary if one is to act upon them while they are in a different state of consciousness. For a human community or a group of people, one need not even be aware of the dimming of consciousness, for it can take place much more subtly. And yet, certain things could not be achieved if we were always to speak only as we do when conversing with one another. That is why I emphasize time and again: I will never resort to speaking in any way other than in terms that are, in a sense, challenging and appeal to the intellect, so that everyone is compelled to think along with me and to grasp the subject matter in conceptual terms. To create a frenzy or to appeal to anything other than the intellect is out of the question when one takes the fifth post-Atlantean epoch and its requirements completely seriously. Even those who know nothing about spiritual science today, but have a vague awareness of being in the fifth post-Atlantean epoch, will respect the inner power of human freedom and speak in such a way that they do not, so to speak, deceive the feelings or throw the soul into a frenzy.

[ 33 ] It would be a different matter if someone wanted to achieve effects other than those I have described: if someone wanted to use the subdued state of consciousness that is much easier to induce in a crowd than in an individual; for in that case, it is not necessary to go as far as hypnosis. You know how a crowd, a group, can be swept up in a certain frenzy, provided it is done in the right way. I have said on previous occasions that I have met public speakers who, driven by certain instincts, were well versed in the art of speaking not to pure intellectuality, but rather, in a certain way, through catchphrases and particularly vivid imagery, to a consciousness that had become somewhat frenzied, even delirious. As I said, for the individual it would have to be stronger; but for a crowd, that’s all it takes. I have, after all, given examples of this.

[ 34 ] Let us also consider these things in a manner entirely befitting the solemn atmosphere in which we now find ourselves, for they are insights deeply connected to the mysteries of Christmas and Easter. I have mentioned before how I was moved at a young age when I experienced such an effect in real life. I have told you this example many times: Through karma, at just the right time, I was led to hear the sermons of a very prominent Jesuit priest, and I could see how people were swept up into a certain image through the use of specific words, how they were persuaded in a way that did not appeal to their intellect but rather to a state of delirium. Let’s take a look at this example. The Jesuit was preaching about the necessity of believing in Easter confession and said something along these lines: “Yes, the unbelievers who think that Easter confession was instituted by the Pope or by the College of Cardinals; but, dear Christians, what a notion that is!” Anyone who claims that Easter confession was instituted by the Pope and the priesthood—you can compare him to someone who watches a gunner standing at a cannon, with an officer beside him giving orders. The gunner only has to light the fuse, and then the cannon fires. Compare, dear Christians, the gunner to the Pope in Rome, and the officer giving the orders to God! Vividly imagine the officer standing there, commanding “Fire”—the gunner merely pulls the fuse, without his own will: the cannon fires. That is how the Pope in Rome acted. He obeyed God’s command; God commanded, the Pope was the gunner, he pulled the fuse—and that is how Easter confession came about. Will you now say that the gunner, who stands at the cannon and pulled the fuse, invented gunpowder? Just as you would not say that the gunner invented gunpowder, neither did the Pope invent Easter confession! And everyone—you could tell by looking at them—was convinced—of course!

[ 35 ] These things must also be learned within certain communities: depicting these things in images, using images, employing intensifications, and making comparisons. This is a special art that is widely practiced in gray brotherhoods. But one does not necessarily have to belong to a gray brotherhood to practice such an art. One may be dependent in one way or another on gray brotherhoods—perhaps without even realizing the extent of that dependence—and can then make use of such things.

[ 36 ] What, then, are these things based on? They are based on the fact that there is a different kind of soul life at work when we speak to one another in such a way that we turn to the intellect in accordance with the fifth post-Atlantean epoch, as opposed to turning to delirium—that is, using some of the means I have just outlined for you in broad strokes. This other kind consists in the fact that, in this fifth post-Atlantean epoch, human beings learn to resist the Hödur—to resist that which has remained over from earlier times, much like the mistletoe in the plant kingdom, which has become a parasite. Human beings must learn to resist the Hödur, the unconscious, the blind, the passionate, the delirious.

[ 37 ] Of course, we can only achieve this by developing a state of consciousness in which we feel quite isolated from the world, whereas the person who develops delusional consciousness immediately attracts cosmic influences, drawing them into the present. With our fifth post-Atlantean consciousness, we stand isolated on Earth. In the case of delirious consciousness, cosmic forces are drawn into the soul. These must, of course, be utilized in the appropriate manner. Let us consider a concrete case.

[ 38 ] If someone in the present wants to influence the delirious consciousness and achieve something special, they can do the following: They can recall when, in an earlier period under similar celestial constellations, something similar occurred. And now, because everything in the world unfolds in waves, and a wave resurfaces after a certain time, they can—to achieve specific effects under similar conditions that are, however, related to cosmic structures—use an event as a replica of a previous event, to make it a replica of a previous event. Let us suppose that someone wants to achieve something for the delirious consciousness through very specific actions, very specific facts. So he goes back in history and recalls something that happened in an earlier time under a similar constellation.

[ 39 ] Let’s imagine someone wants to accomplish something on a specific date in the spring of a certain year. So they say to themselves: It’s Pentecost; I want to go back in time to an event similar to what I want to do now. — But then it must also have occurred during a time when the date of Pentecost fell on roughly the same days, the same days of the month. As a result, the constellation of the stars for this Pentecost date is, of course, roughly similar—after all, it repeats itself. In this way, one would have a special opportunity to influence the delirious state of consciousness. One could, so to speak, encounter a group of people who always represent a kind of Baldur in the fifth post-Atlantean epoch, if one wanted to play the role of Loki with the blind Hödur or through the blind Hödur, by evoking delirious consciousness under these special cosmic conditions.

[ 40 ] Let us now consider a specific case: On May 20, 1347—in times long past—it was the season of Pentecost. During this time, on a certain day, a crowd—which, however, had a different relationship to the mystery of Pentecost than people do today— the heralds, to the sound of trumpets, led the way in Rome for Cola di Rienzi, who, from that significant site in Rome during the Pentecost constellation—which at that time also fell precisely on May 20—proclaimed what was to make him the Tribune of Rome. The impression was precisely what one would expect from the delirious consciousness of a group, a crowd. For this crowd believed that Cola di Rienzi had brought the Holy Spirit, and by making use of the corresponding constellation—albeit only for a very brief time—it was possible to achieve what Cola di Rienzi had set out to achieve.

[ 41 ] It was a curious repetition of the same scenario as in 1915, though this time it was not Cola di Rienzi but Signor d’Annunzio who summoned a group to the same site in a very similar manner! And once again, the delirious consciousness was influenced by images and symbols that, through their vividness, were eminently suited to speak to that delirious consciousness. I do not wish to accuse anyone’s consciousness; I merely wish to recount facts—facts that, for my part, have been suppressed into the subconscious as much as possible. But that does not diminish their effectiveness. On Pentecost Sunday of the year 1915, the same thing happened in Rome as had happened on Pentecost Sunday 1347—which also fell in May, specifically on May 20 and 21—though the exact date is irrelevant; on the contrary, it made the constellation all the more identical. Pentecost 1915 was thus a repetition of what had happened in 1347 under Cola di Rienzi. This brought the new development into effect in a particularly powerful way, for it was a convergence into the same vibrations, into the same circumstances.

[ 42 ] One will only understand history once one is aware of such facts, once one knows what can be achieved by drawing on them. Regardless of the influences that led to this: That Signor d’Annunzio, through the life he had led up to that point, had already had the opportunity to be subject to a wide variety of influences; he possessed within himself the power to make those influences effective in turn. I would merely note that, because of his earlier poems, this poet was described by various critics in “healthy” Italy as “the singer of all reprehensible forms of degeneration.”—While in civilian life he is called Rapagnetta—which, I am told, means “little turnip”—he called himself d’Annunzio.

[ 43 ] Signor d’Annunzio then delivered a speech under these circumstances, which you may judge for yourselves, as I would like to read it to you as best I can. Just to provide some context, I’ll note that at that time there were two parties in Italy—the so-called neutralists and the interventionists—and Signor d’Annunzio set himself the task of converting all the neutralists into interventionists. The Neutralists wanted to maintain neutrality, and a man who was quite closely connected to Italy’s previous political life, Giolitti, was in favor of neutrality. I mention this, so to speak, merely as a comment. That speech, which d’Annunzio delivered as a sort of reenactment of the speech once given by Cola di Rienzi under the same circumstances, goes something like this:

“Romans!”

Yesterday you presented the world with a sublime spectacle! Your endless, orderly procession was a reflection of those solemn processions of antiquity that took place here in the Temple of Jupiter Maximus, and every street traversed by such power—such power paired with such dignity—becomes the Via Sacra. You escorted, invisible in your midst upon an invisible divine chariot, the statue of our Great Mother.

Blessed be the Roman mothers whom I saw yesterday in the procession of this solemn act of self-sacrifice, the mothers who carried their sons in their arms and whose foreheads bore the mark of devoted courage and silent sacrifice.

Is there any need for words of warning when the stones speak? The people of Rome were ready to tear up the pavement trampled by the hooves of those horses that should long ago have been stationed as an advance guard on the border of Istria, instead of—humiliated by such disgrace—defending here the breeding grounds of venomous beasts, the homes of traitors! How sorrowful our young soldiers must have been—what discipline, what self-denial did they demonstrate as they protected, from the just wrath of the people, those very ones who slander and defame them, who humiliate them before their brothers and before their enemies. Let us cry out: “Long live the Army! This is the cry of the hour!”

Among the many despicable acts committed by the Giolittian scoundrels, this is the most reprehensible: the slander against our armed forces and our national defense. Until yesterday, they were allowed to sow, with impunity, doubt, suspicion, and contempt toward our soldiers—toward our fine, good, strong, magnanimous, impetuous soldiers, toward the flower of our people, toward the reliable heroes of tomorrow. With what kind of heart did these men plant their bayonets to drive back the people, who sought only to avenge them! O my admirable comrades! Every good citizen is today a soldier of Italian freedom! Through you and with you, we have triumphed; we have thrown the ranks of the traitors into confusion. Hear, O hear! The crime of high treason has been exposed, proven, and publicly proclaimed. The dishonorable names are known; punishment is necessary!

Do not be deceived; do not let yourselves be moved to pity. Such a herd feels no pangs of conscience, no remorse. Who can convert an animal—accustomed to the filth in which it wallows, accustomed to the trough from which it feeds—to a different way of life?

On May 20, at the solemn assembly of our unit, we must not tolerate the insolent presence of those who have been negotiating with the enemy for months to sell out Italy. We must not allow buffoons to wrap themselves in the tricolor cloak and bellow the sacred name of the Fatherland from their filthy throats. Compile your list of proscribed persons without mercy. You have the right to do so; you have the duty! Who has saved Italy in these days of darkness—who else but you, the pure, the true people?

Remember this! They may escape punishment only by fleeing. Let them escape! This is the only leniency that can be granted to them. Was not a certain someone, just this morning, inclined to take part in the intrigues whose web is spun—among the blooming rosebeds of the villa on the Pincio, now subject to confiscation—by the fat German spider dwelling there? Of course, we did not believe for a moment that a cabinet formed by Mr. Bülow could find the king’s approval—or rather, that the king could become its accomplice.

In his great heart, the king heeded Camillo Cavour’s exhortation: The moment of glory for the Savoy monarchy has arrived!

Yes, she has struck! Defeated beneath the high sky that arches, O Romans, over your Pantheon and over this eternal Capitol! Here, where the plebs held their council meetings, here, where every expansion of Roman rule was consecrated, where the consuls carried out the conscription and administered the soldiers’ oath, here, from where the magistrates of the Republic set out to take command of the armies and rule the provinces, where Germanicus displayed the trophies of his victory over the Germans at the Temple of Fides, where the triumphant Octavian solemnly confirmed Rome’s subjugation of the entire Mediterranean basin—at this starting point and destination of all triumphs, we consecrate ourselves to the Fatherland; here we celebrate the voluntary sacrifice; here we proclaim the words of consecration and aspiration: Long live our war, long live Rome, long live Italy, long live the army and the fleet, long live the king! Glory and victory!”

[ 44 ] So said the new Cola di Rienzi. Then he accepted the sword that was presented to him as a particularly precious memento from Nino Bixio. This sword dated back to the old days and had been kept by the Podrecca family. The sword is presented—forgive me, but it’s a fact—by the editor of Asino! Asino is a particularly vulgar satirical newspaper. But d’Annunzio takes the sword in his hand, kisses it solemnly, strides through the crowd, and—unlike Cola di Rienzi (times have changed in this respect)—does not board a horse-drawn triumphal chariot, but instead gets into a car, though not before ordering that all the bells be rung. This delirious sense of grandeur must not fade away immediately: all the bells must be rung so that it lasts a little longer. Then d’Annunzio had his car stop at the telegraph office and sent a telegram to the Gaulois, whose editor—yes, forgive me, I don’t know how to pronounce such thoroughbred Frenchmen, but I’ll go by the German letters written there—whose editor is named Mr. “Meier”; I don’t know how to pronounce it in France, but it’s written as Mr. “Meier”—so he telegraphed from the telegraph office to the editor of the Gaulois:

“Rome, 1 a.m. A great battle has been fought. I have just spoken from the heights of the Capitoline Hill to a vast, delirious crowd. The bells are ringing the alarm; the cries of the people rise up to the most beautiful sky in the world. I am intoxicated with joy. After the French miracle, I witnessed the Italian miracle.”

[ 45 ] I wanted—without, of course, in any way claiming to offer commentary or take sides—to note certain facts, but within their context, specifically to show how things happen that are scarcely perceived by our inattentive contemporary world. I wanted to point out that, even if the “singer of all shameful human degenerations”—as he was called in Italy—does not strongly believe in the miracle of Pentecost, the very act of in which he reenacts an event here already possesses significant power to influence the delirious consciousness and to act upon certain subconscious impulses—and Signor d’Annunzio accomplished this quite masterfully. The same man who, in his homeland, was called the “singer of all shameful human degenerations”—the man who managed to write a novel in which he trumpeted his relationship with a famous woman to the world in a boundlessly reprehensible manner—this man found, in the other long speech he delivered at the Konstanz Theater, a whole series of other powerful images. The cannon image I mentioned is, strictly speaking, a minor detail. I cannot read the entire speech to you, because that would take too long; perhaps just a passage from the beginning, and then the conclusion. The beginning:

“Romans, Italians, brothers in faith and in longing, my new friends, and my companions of old!”

[ 46 ] Well, with that “once upon a time”!

“This greeting of warm kindness and generous appreciation is not meant for me; you are not greeting me, the one who has returned home—I know that—but rather the spirit that guides me, the love that animates me, the ideal I serve.

Your call rises above me and beyond, aiming higher. I bring you the message from Quarto, which is merely a Roman message to the Rome of Villa Spada and the Vascello.

Daylight has not yet parted from the Aurelian Walls this evening; it does not part: the glow lingers on San Pancrazio. It has now been 66 years—let us this evening contrast cowardice with heroism—it has now been 66 years this evening since the leader of the men led his legion, which was already destined for the miracles of June, back from Palestrina to Rome; it has now been 55 years—let us contrast glory with shame this evening—on this very evening, indeed at this very hour, when the thousand rested on the march from Marsala to Salemii, ate their bread beside their assembled rifles, and fell asleep in silence. In their hearts they carried the stars and the leader’s words, which still ring out to us today, vivid and commanding: “If we are united, our task will be easy. So to arms!”

It was Marsala’s call, delivered in a harsh, threatening tone: “Anyone who does not take up arms is a coward or a traitor!” If He, the Liberator, could descend from the Janiculum to the lowlands: would He not brand all those—with one mark or another—and condemn to shame those who, secretly or openly, are working to disarm Italy, to disgrace the Fatherland, to return it to a state of servitude, nail it back to its cross, or leave it in its death throes in its bed, which at times seemed to us a grave without a lid?

For some, it takes 50 years to die in their bed; for others, it takes 50 years to complete their dissolution in their bed. Is it possible that we—by the strangers within and without, by the enemies who dwell in our house or have invaded it—should allow this kind of death to be imposed upon a people who, just yesterday, with a shudder of power, erected the image of their highest myth by the sea, the embodiment of their true will, which is a Roman will, O citizens?

For three days now, an indescribable stench of betrayal has been suffocating us.»

[ 47 ] Well, things continue in this vein. And then, in the end, we find—rehashed in a new way—what we know so well from the Gospel. Of all people, d’Annunzio dares to utter the following words:

“Blessed are those who have more, for the more they have, the more they will be able to give, and the more they will be able to be on fire!

Blessed are those who, for twenty years, have a pure spirit, a strong body, and a courageous mother!

Blessed are those who, waiting and trusting, did not squander their strength, but preserved it through the discipline of the warrior! Blessed are those who spurned fruitless flirtations in order to remain virginal for this first and last love!»

[ 48 ] d’Annunzio, of all people: “Blessed are those who spurned fruitless flirtations in order to remain virginal for this first and last love!”

“Blessed are those who will uproot the hatred deeply rooted in their hearts with their own hands and then offer their sacrifice!

Blessed are those who, though they resisted this event just yesterday, will now silently accept its profound necessity and no longer wish to be the last, but the first! Blessed are the young men who hunger and thirst for glory, for they will be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will have to wipe away shining blood and bandage radiant pain!

Blessed are the pure in heart, blessed are those who return victorious; for they will see the new face of Rome, Dante’s once-crowned brow, the triumphant beauty of Italy.»

[ 49 ] That is how people sometimes speak even in our own time! And it is indeed important not to overlook these things, my dear friends. For not everyone acts in accordance with the one whose birth is celebrated on Christmas Eve, the one who proclaims the Beatitudes to the world in this way. But not to belong to darkness, but rather to the Light that has come into the world—this is one of the sentiments with which we should imbue ourselves, especially on this festive occasion, so to speak, to commit ourselves to the Light, and not to that inattention that darkness brings us. In these serious times, this may well be something that is important to inscribe upon our souls on Christmas Eve.