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The Spiritual Background of World War I
GA 174b

24 November 1915, Stuttgart

Translated by Steiner Online Library

Sixth Lecture

[ 1 ] Let us use this evening to reflect further on the interplay between the spiritual and physical worlds. This has, after all, already been the subject of other reflections in recent days. Our main concern will be to further develop the topic we have introduced. However, I would like to begin with a more general consideration that will show us how we can think in more abstract and general terms—how the interplay of the spiritual and the physical, the supernatural and the earthly, can be encompassed by a single, simple thought. And from this more general perspective, let us then move on to what really matters: the relationship of the disembodied human being, who has passed through the gate of death, to those human beings who are embodied in this earthly life.

[ 2 ] Let us consider our Earth as the setting for what first manifests itself to our senses. I want to begin entirely hypothetically, to introduce thoughts and ideas that are, for the time being, merely imagined—or at least appear to be so. Let us suppose for a moment that the entire scope of what, from a certain point of view, constitutes the forces of our Earth were somehow concentrated, somehow compressed into a small, some sort of image of the Earth. So let us assume that we have, so to speak, a small Earth—a small, tiny body—which, however, contains within itself, on a small scale, the very forces that the Earth holds on a large scale. Let us represent this schematically. So let us imagine that we have a small Earth—that is, a small, tiny body that contains within itself the same balance of forces that are otherwise, so to speak, distributed throughout the vast body of the Earth. Let us imagine that this small Earth-like body is somehow connected to the Earth.

[ 3 ] Now, if we are to conceive of the Earth correctly, we must not imagine it as just any lifeless entity, as it might appear, for example, to the geologist or the mineralogist, who conceives of the Earth solely as a lifeless entity. For if the Earth were merely mineral, as the geologist imagines it, it would never be able to sustain plants, animals, or human beings. Certainly, the geologist is right to focus on what is dead, but he must be aware that in doing so, he is considering only a fragment of the Earth’s existence. But if we imagine this Earth as a living being, then we must also conceive of it in such a way that its living course through time is an integral part of the Earth’s existence. So that this Earth in winter—as we have often discussed—is in a completely different state than in summer, just as a human being is in a different state when asleep than when awake. We must not imagine this in such a way that winter and summer simply sweep across the Earth, but rather that they are something that affects the Earth’s state—that is, its living being—just as the states of waking and sleeping affect us. So this temporal progression is part of earthly existence, if we regard this earthly existence as a living entity. But in saying this, we are also saying that every being connected to this Earth—including this small Earth we are speaking of here—is in this changing state along with the entire Earth, that it participates in it.

[ 4 ] What, then, does this change in states mean for our Earth? Let’s say, for example, that spring arrives. When spring arrives, it means that the Sun’s influence on Earth takes on a completely different character than it does during winter. We could also say: When spring arrives, the Earth is seized by the Sun’s effects. Whereas during winter our little Earth was, so to speak, left to its own devices with the great Earth—the Sun paid no heed to our little Earth—now our little Earth, too, is seized by the Sun’s effects, by that which lies outside our Earth. The sum of forces within the little Earth is wrested from it. Our little Earth is, so to speak, no longer dependent on the Earth alone; it is claimed by the Sun, it is snatched away from the Earth. Yes, when our little Earth is thus snatched away from the Earth, then forces other than mere earthly forces come into play within our little Earth; then the external forces make themselves felt within our little Earth.

[ 5 ] Now we must imagine this small earth as being lined with substances. What these substances are is not relevant here. From fall to spring, this little Earth is thus left to itself, and can unfold its forces within itself. But then the sun comes, and it draws those forces out, so that under the influence of the sun’s action, what was initially enclosed within our little Earth now enters into extraterrestrial spheres of influence. It is drawn out and enters into extraterrestrial spheres of influence. What was previously compressed can now expand and, under the influence of the sun’s rays, establish a relationship with the surrounding cosmos.

[ 6 ] After a certain time, as autumn approaches, the sun’s effects cease once more. Then this unfolding cannot take place; the forces of the sun once again withdraw from the forces of the earth—that is, this combination of forces is reestablished. It gathers the matter together: the Earth, as it were, reclaims what it had to leave to the Sun for a certain time. The Sun’s effects are now absent for a while; winter arrives. If this were left to the Earth, a small Earth within the great Earth would completely monopolize the Sun. Throughout the entire winter, the system of Earth’s forces must be active within. Otherwise, the Sun would completely claim this small Earth for itself. Measures must be taken to ensure that when the sun reappears, it can reclaim this small Earth; otherwise, it will simply become a tiny sphere consumed by the great Earth. A force must assert itself so that when the sun returns, it can once again reach this small Earth. But provisions must be made for this.

[ 7 ] If the Earth has its own power only within this here and now (it is being drawn), then that is simply a small Earth. The Sun has withdrawn; now this little Earth is left alone with the great Earth. If the Sun were to return, what would it do now with what has become merely Earth? In reality, the Sun must be able to intervene again—it makes no difference here whether the Sun orbits the Earth or the Earth orbits the Sun—the Sun, when it stands in this new relationship to the Earth, must be able to intervene. You can imagine this roughly as follows: Imagine a person standing firmly and using all their strength to remain standing. You approach from the side and try to push them forward. If they have sufficiently strengthened their ability to stand firm, you will not be able to move them. But if they begin to move, you will be able to intervene in the direction of their movement. Suppose there were a force within it that possessed the Sun’s orbital motion—or rather, the Earth’s own motion—as an internal momentum; suppose this momentum of the Sun were imparted to the small Earth: then the Sun could in turn intervene in this motion that it had imparted. Through this, it could once again snatch this small Earth away from the Earth, and the process could unfold as described. In other words, around springtime we would have a small Earth into which the Sun intervenes through impulses of motion that it had already imparted the previous fall. The Sun intervenes, snatches the small Earth away from the mere forces of the Earth, and—in accordance with the Sun’s effect on the larger whole—unfolds within the larger context that which is otherwise limited to the small Earth. The forces must contract, and the small earth must be endowed with the Sun’s momentum. You can already guess what this is about: I have sketched out what happens during the growth of plants, the unfolding of plants into leaves, flowers, and fruits. I have described to you here the contribution of the sun’s momentum: this is fertilization; the seed is fertilized and remains so until the following year, when it is once again taken up by the sun. The tiny grain that carries out fertilization in the plant is the being into which, through the sun’s ripening process, the potential is placed to impart this momentum to the earthly part.

[ 8 ] As you can see, we have here a living interaction between the earthly and the extraterrestrial. We cannot imagine that the plant’s growth would continue to flourish without the sun leaving it a reflection of its own momentum, which it can draw upon again the following year. In other words: When we observe the plant, we are not merely observing something connected to earthly forces; rather, we see in the entire cycle of the plant’s life a mutual interaction between the sun and the earth. Other planetary influences also come into play; but let us set those aside for now and focus on grasping the meaning of the entire process. Let us bear in mind that what we see on Earth is not merely an earthly product, but is also a product of the Sun. The fact that human knowledge is usually limited to what takes place on Earth, both internally and externally, prevents us from arriving at a true perception, at a true understanding of things. For mere earthly forces shape only our minerals. The moment we move beyond the purely mineral realm into the plant realm, we must acknowledge that the forces that shape things are no longer to be found within the earthly realm itself.

[ 9 ] Materialists always hope that one day they will be able to produce a plant seed in the laboratory just as they would any other chemical compound. The opposition to materialism is not about this creation itself, but rather about the fact that, as one moves from minerals to plants—from chemical products to living beings—this creation can only take place through a supernatural process. And before they succeed in realizing this ideal of materialism—producing plant seeds just as they produce mineral products and chemical substances—materialists will have to learn—if I may put it in grotesque terms—to believe in astrology, to believe that they must subject a process they wish to bring about to the influence of the stars. There will have to be laboratories that operate in such a way that they work in harmony with the course of the year, and that they must take into account the constellations of the stars just as they are taken into account out in nature. One must rise above the earth if one is to rise from the dead to the living. For the etheric-physical must cooperate in the creation of the living. But this is never dependent solely on what is merely earthly, but rather on what is spread throughout the entire outer world. We survey what is merely physical when we survey our earthly existence; from the earthly standpoint, we survey the physical by surveying the earthly. That which is ethereal for our Earth is still subject to the entire universe.

[ 10 ] If we now proceed further into the astral realm, we arrive at an element that is no longer subject to the visible at all. And if I were to develop a schema for the animal realm—as I have done for the plant realm—it would appear more complicated; but you would see that, in addition to the earthly realm, we must consider not only the extraterrestrial—and what is still visible in the world of the stars—but also the supersensible realm, which is not even confined to the world of the stars. One must go beyond the realm of the visible.

[ 11 ] I wanted to present this perspective to you so that you might gain insight into the truly profound and inner mystery of what takes place even in everyday life, in the daily growth of plants, so that you may gain insight into how, in the fertilizing grains of the plant flower—which are arranged in a circle or otherwise distributed around the ovary—it essentially depends on the fact that extraterrestrial forces are contained within them, and how, in the case of the seed itself, it is fundamentally a reflection of the entire earthly process, that it is a small earth. The interaction that takes place in the plant flower through fertilization is a reflection of the process that unfolds between the Earth and the entire starry world of the surrounding cosmos.

[ 12 ] We are, after all, surrounded by mysteries everywhere, and knowledge—and the pursuit of it—always inspires the deepest humility. For just imagine how far the path stretches from a general conception of such a thing to a concrete understanding of the details of everything that constitutes the plant cover of the

[ 13 ] 4419 Earth. The field of knowledge thus truly reveals itself as infinite. We face infinity, so to speak, at every point of our existence. And part of the proper attitude that a person should cultivate toward the world is to have a sense that, everywhere, we are actually looking into an infinite existence. Through this, however, we also feel a certain bond between the individual, finite human existence and the infinite—the whole world. And this attitude should actually be applied to everything that spiritual science can offer us, for without this reverent attitude toward the infinite, nothing in spiritual science can truly be grasped with the proper sensibility. One must renew this attitude within oneself from time to time so that one ceases to regard knowledge as something that is sought out incidentally, as if it were merely another aspect of life, whereas in fact it must belong to the most sacred spiritual realm that intervenes in our lives.

[ 14 ] If one surrenders to such sentiments, then one will also receive with the right attitude what, in our time, must increasingly be proclaimed from the sources of spiritual science—namely, the progress that is necessary for the world, extending from the present into the future. And once one has developed such an attitude, this attitude becomes a living force within our soul. It is truly not merely something abstract; rather, it takes hold of our soul, warms it, and illuminates it. And it is only through this—that our soul, so to speak, becomes transformed—that the true essence of spiritual science can emerge, namely, by truly feeling what can be explored through spiritual science. When we bring such a disposition into our soul, only then do the mysteries of life—which otherwise flow past us without our being able to relate to them in the right way—unfold before us in the proper manner.

[ 15 ] There really is an inner spiritual connection between these general observations I have just made and what I now wish to say with regard to human life. When one turns one’s gaze to a plant, when one sees it sprouting from the earth, one can attune one’s soul so that one feels: What sprouts forth there as greenery originates from such a complex little being—the seed—that this little being, from certain points of view, is a reflection of the entire Earth; that in what I see sprouting upward—from leaf to flower, from flower to fruit—the entire universe is at work. When I look at a green plant leaf on its stem, I realize: In this leaf, just as it attaches itself, just as it turns green, the effects of the sun play around what was first enclosed within the little earth, what was torn from the earth until the sun’s effects took hold of it. But then the sun’s forces leave behind their vibrational impulses, having made it impossible for what was in the tiny earth to spread out when it must contract again. In a sense, we see in the sprouting, unfolding plant a reflection of certain forces of the entire vast cosmos. We must regard what presents itself to our senses in this way—as something that reveals to us, at every point, mysteries that surge through and interweave the entire cosmos.

[ 16 ] In this way, human life itself is also connected to the entire cosmos and now also to what is present before us in the form of visible extraterrestrial bodies and processes. What appears in earthly processes, however, strikes us as particularly significant when we—I would say—consider the deviations from what we have come to regard as normal earthly life, normal human life. Admittedly, we constantly see far more deviations than what is actually normal in life, but ordinary perception, which is limited to the sensory world, does not engage with these deviations; one might say it does not engage with the meaning of these deviations. We live in a time when many deviations present themselves to us in rapid succession, and at the same time they are true enigmas. Do we not see, in this time of severe trial for humanity, many of our fellow human beings passing through the gates of death prematurely? We see them passing through the gates of death not because of any illness—that is, something within their own organism—but rather, we see them being forcibly

[ 17 ] pass through this gate of death. For it is one thing for a human soul to pass through the gate of death by dying of an illness in youth, and quite another for it to be violently torn away from the soul-spiritual realm—whether by a bullet striking its body or by some other means. But I already spoke of this yesterday: What takes place here between birth and death is all significant within the overall context of life; we must accept it as karmic connections, we must submit to karma as it is given. But what happens is significant.

[ 18 ] Now let us consider the case in which the physical organism is taken away from the soul-spiritual being by a bullet at a relatively young age. Compared to what we have grown accustomed to—that a person wears out his or her own organism—this is an anomaly. It is therefore a twofold mystery. If death itself is already a mystery to direct observation—one that is revealed precisely through spiritual science—a double mystery arises when the course of life is not such that the physical body is taken from the soul and spirit through internal organic processes, but rather when this happens, for example, through a bullet.

[ 19 ] It is an inner mood within the soul toward the universe, toward the cosmos, one that arises from such simple reflections, but which—when grasped in all its depth—moves us with a sense of inner harmony in the face of the mysteries of the universe. And then, when the soul is thus moved, we also approach the event I have just alluded to with the necessary reverence, dignity, and seriousness: that the physical-bodily aspect is violently taken away from the human spiritual-soul aspect. And then this question arises before our soul like a riddle. For how such a question presents itself determines whether one can contribute anything to its solution or not. If a person has just been through a festive meal, has then rested, and now sits down to his spiritual work, he will not solve the profound riddle; he will not find the mood that is essential. But if they face the riddle head-on and have imbued their soul with the right mood toward the universe, then the riddles may become clear to them.

[ 20 ] When the spiritual researcher, with such a state of mind, confronts the mystery of death—which approaches us in such a way that the physical body is violently torn away from the soul and spirit—all sorts of things arise in the soul that can contribute to solving the mystery. Then the right impressions come to one—the ones needed to shed light on such a matter. These impressions cannot arise from just any state of mind, but only from the right one. So that you might visualize this clearly within yourselves, I chose precisely this approach today, showing you, as it were, how such a task presents itself to the spiritual researcher’s soul. So when the spiritual researcher has attuned himself in this way, the enigmatic question I have alluded to presents itself to his soul. But then something quite different emerges: just as thoughts otherwise arise haphazardly, one after another, so now an impression arises in an orderly manner before the soul, alongside the question. And then, once one has sensed this riddle—the riddle of death—one may, as something that belongs to it, sense the other question: Yes, how do people actually—depending on their particular nature—accept life? —And from there, all sorts of thoughts develop within one, thoughts that I now wish to unfold before your very souls.

[ 21 ] Especially in our current cycle of time, people tend to regard as reality only that which is not a “mere thought.” For them, a thought is, in fact, not something real. And while they may be right from their point of view, it is simply a certain state of mind. That which is real must approach human beings in a much more concrete way than a mere thought—very concrete indeed. A mere thought is, after all, just that—a mere thought! But that which is described as “being” must by no means be a mere thought for people today. What presents itself as a mere thought is precisely what people today describe as not being. That which is must assert itself forcefully in the world; it must not merely speak to the mind. From this perspective, people believe they are standing in reality only when they can speak of this reality as a being, as existence, when they are compelled to acknowledge this reality through existence.

[ 22 ] Now, when we ascend from this world, in which we stand here, into the spiritual world inhabited by human beings once they have passed through the gate of death, the most unsettling thought—one might say—is the concept of being that has taken shape here in the physical world. A sense of being that is like that in the physical world disturbs the disembodied human being in the spiritual world. Precisely what is called here in reality the “unreal”—in contrast to the “real”—is the “real” in the spiritual world. Anything that would approach one there in the same way that “being” does here would be rejected; it would be frightening; it would be something that does not belong in the spiritual world. This is an immensely significant thought. If one were to speak as trivially in the spiritual world as one does here, one might say, as a spirit, when something like this confronts one—just as things confront one here: “What am I supposed to do with that? That’s not real at all!” — For in the spiritual world, I must have the ability to participate in everything that approaches me as imagination—this is the lowest level of knowledge in the spiritual world—that is, to be able to transform it into intuition through my own activity. Whereas in our time people recognize as reality only that to which they have contributed nothing, one can now

[ 23 ] “Do not assume anything in the spiritual world. Rather, in the spiritual world, one must do something to bring it about; one must cooperate so that what is to appear to one there as reality can come into being—one must participate everywhere!

[ 24 ] The fact is that a person who is disembodied in the spiritual world perceives the spiritual world around them to the extent that they are active within it. And what they perceive without being active is the world beyond—the world that is our world here on earth. When the disembodied being looks down upon the Earth, they see what is there without participating in it. Just as we here on Earth refer to our visible world, our real world, our world of being, as the “here and now,” and to that which is not seen as the “beyond,” so it is exactly the opposite from the perspective of the spiritual world. In the spiritual world, there is absolutely nothing except what we bring into existence from nothing through our active participation: that is then the “here and now.” Otherwise, the “here and now” in the spiritual world is dark, silent, and desolate unless we act within it through our soul and spirit. The Hereafter, however, exists without our doing anything. While we look up here toward the unknown, from the spiritual world we look down upon what is familiar to us here—but that is precisely the Hereafter, which has no reality because it exists without our doing anything to bring it about. — One must familiarize oneself with such concepts.

[ 25 ] Now, within our physical world, our physical reality, there is something that not everyone, but certain people, regard as significant, even though it does not, at present, exist—something that individual people bring into this otherwise existing reality, and in contrast, those who understand it behave in such a way that they accept it, even though it has no tangible reality: These are the ideals that people hold. Idealists bring into our sensory reality something that is valuable: the ideals by which people guide themselves, which have no gross, material reality, and which only the crude materialist refuses to acknowledge. Yet at the same time, these ideals are something immensely valuable in this earthly life; ideals are what provide the guiding impulses for our lives; they are what we desire so that we can adhere to them. In a certain sense, these ideals make life valuable by serving as a guide for human beings. Through these ideals, something that is, in a materialistic sense, unreal must be brought into our sensory reality, so that we do not end up with what we might characterize as follows: mere existence would be bleak if ideals did not exist, if human beings did not find them within it. Among those who have no ideals, the idealists must step forward, developing, as it were, something within our reality that is a reflection of the reality beyond—something that is not a being, that makes no claim to being, and yet is valuable, indeed, possesses absolute value.

[ 26 ] Now that the spiritual researcher has developed this impression, which is natural to him, his research leads him back once again to the puzzling question of the person struck by a bullet at a young age. And he must now ask: Is there, in the world beyond—where disembodied human beings and spiritual and soul beings live—anything that corresponds to idealism here on Earth? Is there, for the beings in the beyond, anything similar to the ideals here on Earth? — And lo and behold, the following emerges. Let us take a person who was struck by a bullet in his youth: his etheric body separates from the physical body; the physical body has been violently taken away. Of course, the violence must come from outside. What I have said can never apply if the person’s own decision is involved. The process must come from outside. The etheric body, as I have already emphasized, thus possesses forces within it that could have sustained life here on Earth for even longer—perhaps for decades. These forces do not fade away; they remain. The person who now sheds his etheric body in this way surrenders the forces of his etheric body to the world at large. However, he has entered the spiritual world in the manner described—or rather, his body has been taken from him. Thus he now ascends into the spiritual world as a disembodied being. Something of him remains in the physical world—something he himself could still have used but did not. Consider what is happening here! The human being in question ascends into the spiritual world without having used up anything that he could have used.

[ 27 ] We now turn our attention to the individuality of the human being itself. The human being ascends into the spiritual world without having used up anything that he could have used up. Thus, he ascends into the spiritual world with something that could have become reality here below in the physical world, but did not become reality in the external sense. Such people—who entered the physical world, came to Earth, with the predisposition for a prolonged use of the etheric body but did not actually make use of it—ascend into the spiritual world differently than those who have used up this etheric body until the very end of their existence. They ascend having incorporated into this earthly life something that could have been, but did not come to be. This, however, creates within them a disposition through which they become, for the spiritual world, something akin to what the idealists are here for the physical world. Thus, the one who passes through the gate of death in this way enters the spiritual world by bringing with them something that constitutes idealism for the spiritual world—something similar to the ideals that are brought into the physical world here by the idealists. What a meaningful connection in life!

[ 28 ] Thus, in times of martyrdom such as the present one, souls who have lived a shorter life enter the spiritual world. They lived here on Earth in such a way that something which could have come into being did not come into being for them, and they enter the spiritual world in such a way that there they represent the connection with the earthly world just as the idealists here on Earth represent the connection with the spiritual world through their ideals. In other words, these human beings who have passed through the gate of death in this way have the task of proclaiming in the spiritual world that not everything on Earth is as grossly material as what is here, under ordinary circumstances, called reality; that the Earth also harbors something which, though predisposed to existence, does not live out this existence in a grossly material way. The fact that such an inner disposition of the soul is also carried up into the spiritual world gives rise, in the time between death and new birth, to something similar to what idealism is here on Earth. And when we view an age such as our own from the standpoint of the wisdom of the world, then—if we have cultivated the right frame of mind upon witnessing the deaths that occur in this way—we look into the world in such a way that we say to ourselves: Within the entire, wisdom-filled course of the world, we also accept this in such a way that we reverently strive to understand it. — We then recognize: In a broad, comprehensive sense, such an age of martyrdom provides the spiritual worlds with that which must live within them, just as idealism must live on Earth among us, so that the people who, as such, ascend into the spiritual world and live through the period between death and a new birth may find in that world something similar to what we find here in idealism. That is why these ages must arise. Whether they must always arise in the future is not something we need to discuss today, for that depends on the manner—not merely whether, but in what way—humanity’s life of knowledge on Earth is spiritualized. No one should conclude from what has been said that such eras must necessarily be defended forever; but when one explores their meaning, what has been said becomes clear for humanity’s present situation.

[ 29 ] There we gaze into the wisdom-filled fabric of the world and ask ourselves: How do fear and terror, suffering and pain, and what those who pass through the gate of death must inevitably encounter in the spiritual world all fit together? — We see how suffering, pain, blood, and martyrdom—which present themselves to us here from one side—are counterbalanced from the other side. One can well imagine that there are people who want to be wiser than the gods and who therefore raise the question: Could the gods not have brought about something in the spiritual world that corresponds to the idealism on Earth, without having imposed upon Earth what is being imposed upon it in such an age of martyrdom? — Such questions are raised only by those who wish to be wiser than the gods. People who look upon the Age of Man in the right way seek to understand the world because they are convinced that it must be exactly as it is, and that everything humanity conjures up about what might be better for this world could only be worse for it.

[ 30 ] We look to the idealists, perhaps to a person of such a truly idealistic nature in this world; we may be tempted, if we have a sense of ideals, to say: Look at this person—he brings heaven down to earth, for what does not exist in the gross sense, he brings to humanity as something of value for what does exist, as a guiding principle! — The souls who have normally passed through the gate of death and are undergoing the life between death and a new birth also perceive in this life those souls who have, in some way, undergone a sacrificial death—those from whom the physical body has been taken from the outside by earthly necessity. They regard these souls as those who have come to proclaim to them that down there on Earth there is not only coarse existence, but that connected to the Earth are also human potentials that could exist yet do not attain full existence; instead of living out this full existence, they pass over into the spiritual world at an earlier point in their lives, between birth and death.

[ 31 ] This certainly raises an important question, namely, the difference between such a violent death and a death caused by an early illness. For what I have just said is nothing more than a statement of facts. Precisely those who have ended their physical lives in this way, as described, are, as it were, the idealists of the spiritual world, and they are idealists for the reason that—as becomes apparent upon further reflection—their physical bodies have been taken from them by earthly events, by events that belong solely to earthly life.

[ 32 ] When a person suffers from an illness, their body is affected by forces other than earthly ones. For consider this: even in plant growth, it is not only earthly forces at work, but extraterrestrial forces are also involved. This is naturally also the case with animals, and all the more so with humans. Our illnesses certainly do not come solely from the Earth. Death, however, is never brought to us by the Earth in any other way than through violent death. However death may occur, it is never brought about solely by earthly circumstances unless it is a violent death in the manner described. Whether death comes to us through illness—even suicide is not an earthly event, for it arises from a decision of the soul—there is no death that is brought about solely by earthly forces, except for that which, through sacrificial death and through forces at work on Earth, separates the body from the soul-spiritual. Thus, earthly forces and relationships enter into interaction here with that which is spiritual. Otherwise, death is always something that transcends the earth completely; it is never a mere interaction between the earth and that which exists in the spiritual world. It is precisely to purely earthly circumstances—precisely to something that is merely earthly, that is merely an earthly event—that the etheric body, prematurely deprived of its activity, is surrendered; from this arises what one might call the idealism of the spiritual world. For death is such—please consider what I am about to say in conjunction with some of the thoughts I have shared recently—that when viewed from the physical side, it appears quite differently than when viewed from the spiritual side. I have alluded to this in various ways. But death, when it does not occur in the manner I have just described, is always—when viewed from the other side—something that can be understood from that other side. Whether one enters the other world through death by illness, death from old age, or even suicide, one has there what is needed to understand death. If death is brought about by a bullet on the battlefield, then one must look to purely earthly circumstances to understand it. The same is true in cases of accidents. One must look down from the spiritual world to recognize that one was earthly; death must be explained in terms of earthly circumstances. And this means that one must look down from the “here and now” of the spiritual world into the “hereafter” of the physical world in order to understand such a death.

[ 33 ] Just as ideals connect us here to heaven, so do heavenly ideals connect these dead to the earth. Therefore, the one who thus passes through the gate of death is, in the life between death and new birth, one who weaves into all the events unfolding among human souls—who in turn return to incarnation—that which on our Earth then gives rise to the spiritual, that which on our Earth reveals that the Earth itself also consists of our thoughts and feelings and not merely of earthly matter.

[ 34 ] It must be admitted that characterizing the things I have discussed here is difficult. But it is understandable that this must be difficult, for we use words shaped by physical conditions to speak of what extends far, far beyond those physical conditions. In any case, it is one thing to gaze—I would say—blankly and without understanding at the mystery of such events that emerge from the bosom of history into human life—such as the current time of severe trial for humanity—and quite another to gaze upon them in such a way that one says to oneself: What gives meaning to such an event is significant not only for our Earth but for life as a whole! — And through this feeling, one is in turn led into the deep meaning and the wise course of the whole. One gradually begins to sense all that must contribute to the fact that human beings are placed into this world throughout the entire course of their lives.

[ 35 ] This is what I sought to imply in the second Mystery Play through the words of Capesius, who speaks of how the will of many gods and their joint efforts are necessary to make humanity appear as their goal to all worlds. What emerges in this drama as a sense of the world from Capesius’s soul may perhaps become tangible if one tries to make such ideas one’s own, just as we have sought to rekindle them in our own souls today. In personalities such as Capesius, such moods are fundamentally tragic because they can arise even without one immediately finding the full solution to the riddle. That is one point to note; the other is that we must always bear in mind how much such study calls us to modesty and humility—not to arrogance, not to human hubris.

[ 36 ] To truly acquire human self-consciousness means, after all, to consciously bring it to mind within oneself. And when we begin to sense the scope of our consciousness—how vast the horizon of the world’s mysteries is—we will be careful not to succumb to the arrogant thought: “O human, how you are, in fact, a synthesis of the entire cosmos!”—I believe that precisely such a thought must remain quite distant from us. On the other hand, the opposite thought will be close to us: How little do we know in our consciousness of what is knowable! — The infinite is necessary to compose the human being; yet we have never managed to know more than a very small part of it. Modesty and humility are precisely what sink into our soul from knowledge itself as it expands. One can never learn more than one already knows about the spiritual world without simultaneously realizing that what is knowable is infinite. And the more one knows, the more vivid the sense of this infinity becomes. And one learns to understand how part of life consists in allowing oneself to be gripped by the great, mighty riddles and mysteries that pulse through existence.

[ 37 ] Much of what humanity must now regain was known to people in ancient times as part of an ancient wisdom, like an inheritance. What people possess today has been attained only because this heritage has faded from their souls. In order for human souls to acquire this wisdom anew, it first had to disappear. It had to disappear so that it could become wisdom earned through effort. We must work our way up once more to attain, in the Earth’s future life, in the Earth’s future existence, that which has vanished from the souls as inherited wisdom. Thus, we must look into the perspective of humanity’s future; then we will understand the necessity for spiritual science to enter the world. It is precisely this living relationship to the infinite, as it has been characterized, that gives us the opportunity to truly grasp esoteric knowledge as something inwardly alive—something that is also at work within us and active, something that can make us true co-workers in the shaping of the Earth, which we must become if the Earth is to continue to develop.

[ 38 ] To reinforce this point, I would like to mention one more thing. There are people we should certainly listen to, because they speak the truth from the perspective of the present. They say: In earlier times, people did not know what a criminal was, or why a person develops into a criminal in this world. Today, however, we do know. If you dissect the brain of a criminal, you find that it has a certain characteristic: the occipital lobe does not completely cover the cerebellum, as it does in normal people. — It was a major, significant discovery made by Moriz Benedikt, the famous criminal anthropologist, which shows how a certain simple physiological structure of the occipital lobe determines whether one is a criminal. So consider this: One is a criminal because the occipital lobe does not cover parts of the brain that are supposed to be covered! There is nothing to object to in this truth. It simply exists, and it would be quite foolish to rebel against it, for it is, after all, a truth. But consider this: If one is a materialist, what must one say? — Well, some people are simply born with lobes that are too small; they are then predestined to become criminals. Consider—I need not elaborate further—the infinite desolation of such a view of the world! Consider how all human feeling must be altered when one knows nothing else but this, and when one must say to oneself: Why do people become criminals? Because nature has placed them in life in such a way that they cannot help but become criminals. — But once one begins to understand that human beings have an etheric body, one can say something different about the matter; one knows something else about it. One knows that this etheric body encompasses all parts, and that even in a person whose occipital lobe is too short in the physical sense, the corresponding etheric parts can still attain their full development. Whatever the physical situation may be, correction can also be achieved through the etheric body. If we now succeed in developing a pedagogy in which we draw not only on physical science but also on spiritual science, then we can gain insight—from the way a child behaves—into what is necessary for their upbringing, and what measures we must take so that the etheric body develops in such a way as to counteract the effect of the underdeveloped occipital lobes. Then, if the hindbrain is normally developed in the etheric body, a person can still become a good person, even if they are physically predisposed to be a criminal. Here you can see how spiritual science can and must intervene practically in life. For purely physical science must simply allow the criminal brain to remain a criminal brain, because it is only a science of the physical. But if one takes spiritual science into account, one neutralizes the physical deficiencies. From this you can see what must develop in the future.

[ 39 ] Now imagine: what if this spiritual science did not exist! Then there would never be any possibility of developing the etheric body in the way I have described. This means that anyone born in the future with an underdeveloped brain will live out their life in a way that corresponds to that brain. There will be no way to correct this through education. The consequence will be that people will become what their physical constitution dictates. And this will continue indefinitely. People will reach the Jupiter state, and what the materialists dream of today will come true. If spiritual science does not overcome what results from the purely material constitution, human beings will gradually develop in such a way that this material constitution will become the determining factor; human beings would then be merely a product of their material development. Because spiritual science intervenes in life, this will not be the case on Jupiter; there, the etheric body will once again reshape the physical body. For if, in a life in which the physical brain has atrophied due to karmic causes from previous lives, the etheric body is properly developed, then in the next incarnation the physical brain will develop properly. It is all interconnected. Thus spiritual science truly becomes a reality, transforming humanity once again.

[ 40 ] If you summarize these thoughts, you will be able to say to yourself: What materialists think about human beings today is not yet a reality, for human beings today are still constituted in such a way that the spiritual can intervene. But it could become just as the materialists imagine—if things were up to them, if spiritual science could be eradicated by the materialists. Simply as a consequence of their materialistic organization, people would be living on Jupiter if the materialists’ dreams could come true. — What, then, are the materialists really? They have a worldview that does not correspond to reality today, but which could one day correspond to reality for humanity. These materialists are prophets—only false prophets! They dream of a world that, if it were up to them, could be brought into being according to their vision. The materialists are dreamers, but we must work against their daydreams. When people come to realize that the materialists are dreamers—that one must say to them: “You walk through the world and do not see reality; you dream of an existence that could, at best, be brought about by your lack of insight into the world; you are false prophets; you are conjuring up all sorts of fantasies!”—at that very moment, people will assess materialism correctly. So one will have to arrive at the opposite judgment from what the materialists—well, let’s say—dream up on their own. Then the time will have come when one can truly understand spiritual science. In a certain sense, spiritual science will already transform the world from this perspective.

[ 41 ] Over the past few days, I have tried to convey to you, through a few hints, this or that aspect of the connection between the physical and spiritual worlds. I have spoken out of impulses arising from the significant events of our time. At a time when death stands before our souls in so many ways—one might even say daily—such reflections, when offered as a possibility, are surely close to the human soul. For how could one refrain from seeking the meaning and purpose of existence in such difficult times of trial as these we are facing today! The very fact that we were able to discuss such questions here gives me deep satisfaction at being able to be among you once again, even in these difficult times. I would simply like to add that, in the present, many things must be viewed in light of the nature of the present moment. It is not as easy now to travel everywhere as it is in peacetime. Therefore, even within our own sphere, our members must realize—as indeed all people must realize—that times of war are different from normal times, and that we cannot expect everything to be the same as it is in normal times. I say this especially in light of the fact that this is often overlooked precisely by our members, even though our members, of all people, should have a great deal of understanding for our present circumstances and maintain a living connection to them. It is often evident that our members simply cannot grasp that we must bear in mind the difficult times in which we live, and that not everything can proceed with the same regularity as usual. But we must hold fast to this: that we remain faithful to our cause. What each of us can do during this time—by ensuring that the individual branches of our society work diligently and thoroughly for our cause—is truly done not only for the benefit of our cause, but for a much broader benefit.

[ 42 ] It is only natural that our community must now be a looser one; all the more reason, then, for our work in our branches to be all the more intense, especially with regard to spiritual deepening. This is what I would like to impress upon your souls and hearts, especially at this time and today. Let us each strive, especially at this time, to remain holy and faithful to our ideals, to remain holy and faithful to the mindset that has taken shape over time through spiritual science. Spiritual science must prove itself not only in good times but also in difficult times. What one might call—admittedly, somewhat tritely, yet still as a fundamental tone of our entire striving—must now connect particularly deeply with our souls: the attempt to grasp life in all its aspects. In contrast to so much of what is now presented in the outer world—a world inclined toward materialism, often with such one-sidedness—let us strive for the diversity of life. We want to know that, because we face infinity at every moment, we must guard against any comfortable one-sidedness at every moment.

[ 43 ] Some of you may have heard that, at a place where our spiritual science is practiced, it was necessary to discuss various shortcomings that have come to light here and there. Even if certain words may have offended this or that person, we must not allow ourselves to swing to the other extreme. I am not saying this now to go into these matters in detail, but merely as an example. If, for example, people who spoke of all sorts of occult events and experiences did not speak of these experiences in the proper way, one must not conclude from this that occult experiences are not the main focus in our society. Certainly they are, for we are striving, after all, from the outer toward the inner. Nor was there any need to object to occult experiences in and of themselves. But at what level these experiences occur—that is what we must discern within our movement, and that is what must be taken into account. For it is one thing to speak of occult experiences in a certain lighthearted manner; it would be quite another to say that one no longer wishes to hear anything about them at all. For three days we have spoken of the most intimate occult experiences. What is being created in our circle cannot be a mere intellectual exercise. That is not the purpose of our Society. We must not swing from one extreme to another.

[ 44 ] I would like to draw attention specifically to the intimate aspect of our spiritual science—that which is so closely connected to the innermost depths of our soul’s feelings. What matters is that, as we engage with spiritual science, we transform our soul into something different from what it was before. And this must prove its worth even in difficult times. That is why I wanted to offer some reflections that might be suitable for putting us in that reverent frame of mind toward spiritual life that is befitting a true student of spiritual science. For, when it comes down to it, the greatest and the smallest events of life—everything in life—are things that fill us with deep reverence, if only we are able to delve deeply enough into the spiritual background of each individual event. And even the painful events of life—the smallest and the greatest—can be placed in such a light through spiritual science that contemplating them helps bring our soul into the right relationship with the wisdom that surges and weaves through the world.

[ 45 ] From the perspective of world wisdom, let us consider the events of life that are connected to what is unfolding around us today—something so grand, yet also so full of trials. If we feel this way about our times, then we are in tune with what we sought to convey with the words:

From the courage of the fighters,
From the blood of the battles,
From the suffering of the forsaken,
From the sacrifices of the people
The fruit of the spirit grows—
Guiding souls, spiritually aware,
Direct their minds toward the spirit realm.

[ 46 ] Let us be the souls who direct their minds in this way toward the spirit realm! Then we will be able to contribute to the fruits that, like the sun, must blossom as a source of healing for humanity from the seeds that are scattered across the earth, drenched in blood, in these fateful days.