The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Eighth Lecture

[ 1 ] During this time, I must repeatedly draw attention to a line of thought that must run through our entire spiritual science today. I have called this line of thought one in which we must ensure, in every instance, that behind the concepts, perceptions, and ideas that human beings form and in which they live, there lies not merely what is often called “logic” in life, but that within human concepts and perceptions lives what can be called “reality.” We must seek out concepts imbued with reality. And it can never be superfluous—especially in the considerations that are now intended to lead to a very specific goal, which I will indicate shortly—to point out how understandable it can become that a concept, or any mental image present in life, may indeed be true in a certain sense, but cannot reach down into reality. Certainly, what is actually meant by these reality-saturated concepts will only gradually become clear; but one can also, I would say, gradually arrive at the idea of what is reality-saturated through simple comparisons. Therefore, by way of introduction today, I would like to once again draw attention to what I actually mean by means of a comparison.

[ 2 ] What I am about to say appears—but only appears—to have no connection to the following considerations; rather, it is merely an introductory discussion. From the sixteenth century until 1839, all Roman cardinals were required to take an important oath. During his papacy—he reigned from 1585 to 1590—Pope Sixtus V had deposited 5 million scudi in Castel Sant’Angelo as a reserve to be used in times of crisis. And because it was considered so important that such a treasure be available for emergencies, the cardinals were always made to swear that they would safeguard this treasure carefully. In 1839, during the pontificate of Pope Gregory XVI, the future Cardinal Acton objected to this oath; he no longer wanted the cardinals to swear that they would safeguard this treasure. — If one heard nothing else about this story, one could come up with all sorts of lovely hypotheses as to why this peculiar Acton did not want the cardinals to swear—as was still required at that time—to safeguard the treasure that could be so important to the papal government. And everything said about it might seem quite logical. But whatever one might say—however elegantly—pales in comparison to what Acton knew based on certain facts, and what the cardinals did not know. For he knew that this treasure had not existed since 1797—that it was already gone. Thus, the cardinals had been made to swear that they would safeguard a treasure that was no longer there at all, and Acton simply would not consent to having them take an oath regarding something that did not exist. You see, all the fine arguments and hypotheses that someone who did not know that the entire treasure was gone—that it had already been spent under Pius VI—might put forward—all these hypotheses would come to nothing.

[ 3 ] If one were to reflect a little on such an example—it sometimes seems unnecessary to reflect on things that are so obvious, but one must reflect on them and compare something so obvious with certain other things in the world— precisely through what follows from such a fact, one might come to understand what the matter actually is with reality-saturated and non-reality-saturated concepts. Now I must draw your attention to this lack of reality-saturation in present-day concepts for the simple reason that this, as you will see later—perhaps not until next time—is precisely connected to the “topic” that, from our point of view, must once again be discussed at the present time. For I intend to let the reflections we have already made lead into a discussion of a particular aspect relating to the Mystery of Christ. What I presented on this subject last time may serve as a foundation for precisely that aspect of the Mystery of Christ that we now wish to consider. Today I would simply like to bring to your attention a number of things that may not yet seem to have any connection to our actual topic, because they will be of significant service to us as a foundation.

[ 4 ] As you know, I have cautiously begun to point out a certain way of viewing the mystery of Christ in my book *Christianity as a Mystical Fact*, which was published quite some time ago. This *Christianity as a Mystical Fact*—which, incidentally, was one of the last books that the old regime in Russia confiscated just a few weeks ago in its new edition—is, I would say, a first step toward understanding Christianity itself from a spiritual standpoint; from a perspective that has more or less disappeared over the centuries within the course of Christian development in the West itself. Now I would like to emphasize one thing in particular, which is in fact so fundamental that all the arguments in the book *Christianity as a Mystical Fact* stand or fall by it. A certain view of the Gospels is presented therein. I will not go into this view further here. You can, of course, read about it in the book. But if this view is valid, it is simultaneously necessary to assume that the Gospels did not originate as late as is often assumed today, even in Christian theology, but that their origin must be placed at an indeterminate but early date. As you know, according to this view, the elements of Gospel teaching are to be found in the ancient mystery texts, and the task is simply to recognize the Mystery of Golgotha as the fulfillment of what is contained in those ancient mystery texts. Now, precisely with such a spiritual understanding of Christianity, one will encounter opposition in the present day, even in the face of certain theological-historical arguments. Such an argument may well be regarded as historically unfounded even by the most modern theologians; after all, it is supposed to be clear, so to speak, that the Gospels did not yet play a significant role in the first century—or at least in the first two-thirds of the first century. And there are even theological representatives of Christianity who doubt that any proof can be provided that, in the first century of the Christian era, people of significance thought about the person of Jesus Christ or—however one wishes to put it—believed in him.

[ 5 ] Well, it will become increasingly clear that, as today’s research—which is only seemingly so meticulous—expands in all directions and becomes not only meticulous but also comprehensive, many of the concerns raised by meticulous research will crumble. Of course, one can draw all sorts of conclusions today about the questions that arise from certain contradictions between Christian documents and Jewish documents, for example. But these conclusions are countered by the fact that non-Christian documents—that is, documents not officially recognized as Christian—are very little known and, in particular, are given little consideration by Christian theologians. A large part of this lack of consideration is actually due to the fact that Christianity—and especially the Mystery of Golgotha itself—has not been understood with sufficient spiritual insight; that people have been unable to form a proper concept of the Pauline idea, which distinguishes between the psychological human being and the pneumatic human being. Consider, for example, our most basic division of the human being into body, soul, and spirit. Essentially, Paul—who was familiar with the ancient truths of the mysteries in their atavistic character—meant nothing other by his distinction between the psychic and the pneumatic human being than what we must once again mean in a renewed form when we speak of the soul and the spirit as two aspects of human nature. But it is precisely this distinction between the psychic and the pneumatic human being—this distinction between soul and spirit—that has more or less been entirely lost in Western thought. Yet one cannot contemplate the Mystery of Golgotha in its true essence without having a concept of the pneumatic human being as distinct from the psychic human being.

[ 6 ] Now, to begin with, I would like to mention a few things that I have already brought up in previous years—things that can show you that certain purely external historical perspectives are, in fact, mistaken, particularly when it comes to recent research on the life of Jesus. I mean to say that people claim the Gospels were written late. Yes, you see, there are many purely historical facts that can be cited to counter this. For example, one can point out that Rabbi Gamaliel II stood trial in the year 70 of the first century of our era. The trial concerned the following. Rabbi Gamaliel II was the son of Rabbi Simeon, who was the son of Gamaliel—the very same Gamaliel whose disciple was Paul; and that Gamaliel II had a sister, and he became involved in an inheritance dispute with her. They were brought before the judge, who was either a Roman sympathetic to Christianity or perhaps a Jew sympathetic to Christianity—it is difficult to determine. Gamaliel II argued that he was the sole heir because, according to Mosaic law, daughters cannot inherit. Then the judge objected: “Ever since you Jews lost your land, the Torah of Moses no longer applies; instead, the Gospel applies, and according to the Gospel, the sister must also inherit.” — At first, there was nothing to be done by direct means. But what happened? Gamaliel II, who was not only greedy for the inheritance but also cunning—as one might say today—moved to adjourn the trial. And that is exactly what happened. The trial was initially adjourned, and in the meantime, Gamaliel II bribed the judge. So at the second hearing, he stood before the bribed judge, who now ruled differently and said: Yes, he had been mistaken in the first trial. Although the Gospel was indeed to be applied to such cases, the Gospel stated that the Torah of Moses was not to be abolished by the Gospel. And to reinforce this, the verse is quoted—which today appears in Matthew 5:17—regarding the non-abrogation of the Law in the form it has today, naturally with the variations resulting from the Greek language and the language in which the Gospel existed at the time this ruling was handed down in the year 70. But this ruling simply refers to the Gospel of Matthew, and the Talmud, which reports these matters, speaks of this Gospel of Matthew as if it were something entirely self-evident.

[ 7 ] Thus, one could cite many examples that would show that, even when expanding what is otherwise very meticulous research, one does not stand on entirely solid ground—even from a purely external historical perspective—unless one dates the origin of the Gospels much further back. External historical research, too, will one day certainly justify what forms the basis of my book *Christianity as a Mystical Fact*—a basis derived from entirely different, namely purely spiritual, sources.

[ 8 ] Indeed, everything related to the Mystery of Golgotha still holds the deepest mysteries even for our time, mysteries that will be unraveled as spiritual scientific insight continues to advance further and further. Many things today can point out to people that the questions are not as straightforward as they are very often imagined to be, especially today. For example, little attention is paid today to the relationship between Judaism at that time and the views regarding Jesus Christ during the first Christian century. There are theologians who study certain Jewish writings to demonstrate various points. Yet it can easily be shown that these Jewish writings, on which so much is based, did not even exist in the first century of the Christian era. But one thing also seems to be historically verifiable: namely, that in the first century—particularly in the second third of the first century—there was a good, or relatively good, relationship between Judaism and Christianity, if one wishes to use that term for that period; that, in general, when certain enlightened Jews of that time engaged in discussions with followers of Jesus Christ on certain issues, it was not all too difficult to reach a consensus on their views. One need only recall cases such as the one in which the famous Rabbi Eliezer met, around the middle of the first century, a certain James—as he calls him—who professed to be a disciple of Jesus and who healed in the name of Jesus the Christ. The famous Rabbi Eliezer spoke with this Jacob, and in the course of their conversation he remarked: “Actually, what this Jacob says is by no means contrary to the inner spirit of Judaism, and certainly not the fact that he heals the sick in the name of Jesus.”

[ 9 ] One can now see that this more or less existing willingness to find common ground in earlier times—particularly toward the end of the first century—began to fade; that, in other words, even enlightened Jews became fierce opponents and haters of all things Christian. And so it came to pass that, when the Jewish writings—which are considered important today—were composed in the second century of our era, a completely different mood entered into the composition of these Jewish writings than had actually prevailed in Judaism with regard to Christianity in the first century. One can truly trace these developments decade by decade and see that a certain hatred of Christianity was only just beginning to take shape, particularly within Judaism. This went hand in hand with a radical shift within Judaism itself. One can actually say: Even though today’s representatives of Judaism are, of course, familiar with the Old Testament in their own way, they are not familiar with what was also alive within Judaism at the time of the Mystery of Golgotha; thus, they too often fail to recognize what is essentially at stake in a truly historical perspective. One must be clear about the fact that even in the first Christian century, the Old Testament was read quite differently than it can be read today, even by the most learned Jewish rabbis. Especially since the nineteenth century, the ability to read ancient scriptures has been more or less lost. For when it came to certain things that even in the eighteenth century still existed as a secret tradition rooted in ancient, atavistic clairvoyant truths, people of the nineteenth century could no longer conceive of them at all. And people today can no longer conceive of anything other than regarding those who speak of such things—even if they belong to an earlier era—as, well, confused minds!

[ 10 ] Last time, I drew your attention to an important book, *Des erreurs et de la vérité* by Saint-Martin. This book is certainly a late work of its kind, in that it draws on traditions of ancient insights that have already become quite shadowy—yet it still speaks from within these traditions. I have already cited various passages from this book to you recently, passages that modern people find difficult to comprehend. But if one now considers the following view found in Saint-Martin, one will see all the more clearly how, in Saint-Martin’s work, things come to life that—if one is not allowed to take them as fiction (and today, after all, we take just about everything as fiction)—are sheer madness to modern people. For instance, Saint-Martin suggests that the human race, as it is today, has fallen from an ancient, primeval state into its present condition. With a certain degree of abstraction, some people today—those who do not subscribe to a materialistic worldview—are still willing to accept the idea that the human race of today can be traced back to earlier times when, in a sense, it stood on a higher plane with regard to a part of its nature. After all, despite the materialistic tinge of Darwinism—which assumes that humans have merely evolved from the animal kingdom—there are still others who believe that humanity has descended from a certain original height, in which, as I have explained, there were primordial divine traditions. But when it goes beyond this abstract realm and comes to such concrete assertions as those found in Saint-Martin—and found in Saint-Martin only because they tie in with ancient traditions from the old age of clairvoyance—then, yes, then modern man can no longer imagine such things at all.

[ 11 ] What is a person today—who has a thorough understanding of chemistry, geology, biology, physiology, and so on, and who has also internalized that curious construct we now call philosophy—supposed to make of it when Saint-Martin says: The human race as it is today is only what it has become since the Fall; it was originally quite different. Man originally possessed a kind of impenetrable armor. He has lost this armor. It was originally part of his organic being. With this armor, he was able to withstand the great struggle that was actually imposed upon him in primeval times. And in primeval times, humankind had a bronze lance. This bronze lance could wound just as fire wounds. And with this bronze lance, humankind was able to withstand that struggle against beings entirely unlike humans, which had been imposed upon them in that era. And in that place where humankind originally resided, they had seven trees at their disposal. Each of these trees had 16 roots and 490 branches. Man left that place. He fell.

[ 12 ] I do not believe that modern people would still consider one to be in one’s right mind if one were to do what Saint-Martin undoubtedly did: to demand for his view a reality as fully valid as that which the geologist demands for the beautiful constructions he devises for prehistoric times. One would have to come up with all sorts of abstract allegories or symbols; then one might be forgiven a little. But that is not what Saint-Martin means; rather, Saint-Martin refers to realities that were originally there. It was, of course, necessary for Saint-Martin to choose imaginative representations for certain things that existed back then, when the Earth in its origin was even more spiritual than it was later. Yet imaginations are representations of realities; one must not interpret them symbolically, but must take them for what they are in their imaginative content. — I wanted to mention this, not to delve into this matter now, but simply to show you how fundamentally different the language in which a book like *Des erreurs et de la vérité* was written—even in the eighteenth century—was from the language that people today insist on regarding as the only true one. This way of reading, which can still be found in Saint-Martin, has indeed died out.

[ 13 ] But since, for example, the Old Testament can only be read in depth if one still possesses—or has rediscovered—a certain mastery of things related to imaginative perception, you can understand that, particularly with the advent of the nineteenth century, the ability to read the Old Testament was lost. But the further back one goes, the more one finds that, at the time the Mystery of Golgotha took place, there was indeed alive within Judaism—alongside the external Old Testament—what one might call a mystery perspective, a true mystery perspective. And much of this mystical perspective consisted precisely in the fact that it gave one the ability to read the Testament in the right way. Now, there is no way to read the Testament in the right way unless one considers its assertions against the backdrop of spiritual facts.

[ 14 ] At the time of the Mystery of Golgotha, Roman culture was particularly averse to the distinctive character of Jewish esoteric teaching. And one might say that there have scarcely been greater contrasts in the development of the Earth than the contrast between Roman culture and the mystery tradition preserved by the initiates in Palestine. Of course, one must not take this mystery tradition, which existed in Palestine, exactly as it existed there at that time, for then one would not find Christianity within it, but only something like a prophetic foreshadowing of Christianity. On the other hand, however, what pulsated within Christianity can only be understood if one views it against the historical backdrop of the mystery teachings that existed in Palestine. These mystery teachings, however, were full of secrets concerning the spiritual human being; they were full of that which directs human knowledge to seek the path into the spiritual world. Much of what lived in this mystery teaching also lived, to a greater or lesser extent, in various forms within the Greek mysteries. But little of it lived on in the Roman mysteries. Roman culture had no need for the very essence of the Palestinian mysteries. It had no need for this essence because Roman culture developed a particular form of human coexistence—a way of living together that can only exist if one disregards the spiritual human being. This is the true mystery of Roman history: that within this history, a form of human coexistence was to be established through which the spiritual human being was more or less excluded. Something was to be established in which it makes no sense to speak of the human being in his threefold nature: body, soul, and spirit. The further back one goes, the more one sees that the very conception of the Mystery of Golgotha that existed in ancient times is based on this distinction of the whole human being into body, soul, and spirit—just as Paul still speaks quite clearly of the psychic and pneumatic human being, of the soul-human and spirit-human. But this must have been a source of great offense to all the sensibilities of a Roman. And this also explains much of what occurred in the period that followed.

[ 15 ] As you know, Gnosticism is the view that—while no longer useful today—once sought to preserve the division of humanity and the world as a whole into body, soul, and spirit. In the course of further development, it was more or less completely eliminated—properly eliminated, pushed back—so that Gnosticism disappears entirely. I do not mean to say that it should have been preserved, but I merely wish to state the historical fact that Gnosticism still contains the prospect of a spiritual understanding of the Mystery of Golgotha and is being pushed back. A very peculiar development now emerges: it turns out that Christianity flows more and more into the Roman essence. But to the very extent that it flows into the Roman essence, it is not understood by that Roman essence with regard to its relationship to the pneumatic human being. And it caused more and more offense that certain Gnostic representatives of Christianity still spoke of body, soul, and spirit. In the circles where Christianity had become official in the Roman manner, attempts were made more and more to conceal and suppress the spirit, the concept of the spirit. There was a feeling that one should not draw people’s attention to the spirit, for this, it was believed, might cause all the views regarding the division of the human being into body, soul, and spirit to resurface.

[ 16 ] And so the development continued. And if one really takes a close look at the first centuries of Christian development, one finds that much of what is usually explained differently is cast in the right light when one realizes: Christianity, as it became Romanized, was increasingly concerned with making the concept of the Spirit disappear entirely. Countless questions of conscience and knowledge are only properly understood when one takes into account this need of Christianity—now European in character—to set aside the Spirit. And this development ultimately led to the Eighth Ecumenical Council in Constantinople in 869 establishing a formula, a dogma, which—though perhaps not yet expressed so clearly in its wording—was subsequently interpreted to mean that it was unchristian to speak of body, soul, and spirit; that it is solely and exclusively Christian to say only that human beings consist of body and soul. The Eighth Ecumenical Council initially presented the matter simply by stating that the formula read: “Human beings have a thinking soul and a spiritual soul.” In order to avoid having to speak of the spirit as a distinct entity, the formula was rephrased: “Human beings have an imaginative soul and a spiritual soul.” But it all amounted to pushing the spirit out of the worldview.

[ 17 ] There is much connected with this that people do not know. Our philosophers today still structure their reflections in such a way that they examine the physical on the one hand and the psychological on the other. If you were to ask these people—Wundt, for example, or similar thinkers—what this is based on, they would naturally believe that it is based on realities, on actual observation, which leads to the conclusion that it makes no sense to speak of body, soul, and spirit, but only of the body, which is directed outward, and of the soul, which is directed inward. What else would someone like Wundt say but: “That is, of course, what observation shows!” — He has no idea that all of this is the consequence of what the Eighth Ecumenical Council established. Contemporary philosophers still do not speak of the spirit, for they follow the dogma of the Eighth Ecumenical Council. Why, in fact—even if not in explicit terms—modern philosophers renounce the Spirit, they truly know just as little as the Roman cardinals knew what they were actually swearing to preserve when they swore to safeguard the treasure that had long since ceased to exist. The forces that drive history forward—the real powers—are often given just as little consideration. And so today one can be considered ignorant if one does not agree with “unbiased” science—as it is called—that human beings consist only of body and soul, simply because those who advocate unbiased science do not know that the premise for this is the decrees of the Eighth Ecumenical Council in the year 869. And so it is with very, very many things. One might say: This Eighth Council is at the same time an important window through which one can look into a significant portion of Western development.

[ 18 ] As you know, a deep rift runs through Western development with regard to the division between those forms of religion that survive today in the Russian Orthodox Church and those that survive in the Roman Catholic Church or have developed from it. From a purely dogmatic standpoint—though, of course, there are other, much deeper impulses behind these matters—but from a purely dogmatic standpoint, as you know, the famous “filioque” is part of this difference. Following the later council—the Russian Church, of course, recognizes only the first seven councils—the Roman Catholic Church accepts the formula that the Holy Spirit proceeds, as it is said, “both from the Father and from the Son”; not only from the Father, but also from the Son. This was, of course, declared heretical by the Council of Constantinople. The Russian Church—as I said, there are much deeper reasons behind this, but that is merely to be noted today—recognizes that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father. — The great confusion regarding this dogma could, of course, only have arisen because people became confused about the very concept of the Spirit in the first place, and because they gradually lost the concept of the Spirit entirely. Admittedly, this is connected to the fact that, as the fifth post-Atlantean cultural epoch approached, human beings were to be excluded from the perception of the Spirit for a time. Compared to this truth, what actually happened is, one might say, a mirror image playing out on the surface. But one must see through what lies within this mirror image if one wishes to arrive at a valid, reality-saturated view.

[ 19 ] This development—which reached a crucial juncture in the dogmatic assertion that there is no spirit, that human beings consist only of body and soul—is not yet complete. The Christian theologians of the Middle Ages, who were still deeply immersed in the ongoing traditions—for in fact, it was only orthodox church doctrine that held that human beings consist of body and soul, whereas the alchemists and others who were still familiar with the ancient traditions knew, of course, that human beings consist of body, soul, and spirit— found it extraordinarily difficult to strike a balance between adhering to orthodoxy on the one hand and, on the other, having to acknowledge that there was some truth behind the heretical teachings—which were widespread—regarding the division of the human being into body, soul, and spirit. We see everywhere how medieval Christian theologians, in particular, twist and turn and cannot come to terms with how, as they put it, to avoid the so-called trichotomy—the division of the human being into three parts. Anyone who does not study medieval Christian theology in light of these difficulties—the difficulties theology faced in avoiding the trichotomy—cannot understand it at all.

[ 20 ] However, this development, which is thus hinted at, is far from complete, for it corresponds to an extraordinarily important impulse in the development of Western culture. And because many things will unfold in the twentieth century that one must be aware of if one is to understand the present age, this point must also be emphasized once again. You see, originally—that is, if we call what arose in this relatively later period “original”—human beings were divided into body, soul, and spirit. Development had progressed to such an extent that by the ninth century, the spirit could be abolished. But now the process is continuing. People simply do not yet perceive it clearly today, because they do not even take into account such weighty matters as the entire transformation of thought, for example, from Saint-Martin to the present day. The process continues, and it is not enough merely that the spirit has been abolished; humanity is tending toward the abolition of the soul as well. So far, only preliminary steps—harbingers—have taken place in this direction, but the time is already ripe for the abolition of the soul as well. It is just that people do not fully grasp such important trends that are unfolding in our time. We are already witnessing significant developmental moments that are paving the way for the abolition of the soul. Councils will not be convened as they were in the ninth century; things unfold differently today. I must emphasize again and again: I am not criticizing these things; I am merely presenting the facts to your soul.

[ 21 ] A very far-reaching beginning toward the abolition of the soul is evident in a wide variety of fields. Thus, in the nineteenth century, what is known as historical materialism emerged, which has become the fundamental historical worldview of today’s social democracy. If one considers Engels and Marx as the foremost—well, how shall I put it? Perhaps one shouldn’t use an old-fashioned term, but maybe among ourselves we can—these foremost “prophets” of historical materialism, they are the direct, immediate descendants—historically speaking—of the Fathers of the Eighth Ecumenical Council. There you have the continuous development. What the Fathers did back then in abolishing the spirit, Marx and Engels continued in their already very far-reaching attempt to abolish the soul. Isn’t that right? According to this view, all spiritual impulses no longer count; rather, what drives history forward are solely material impulses—the struggle for material goods. And the spiritual realm is merely, as it has been put, the superstructure upon the actual foundation of purely material, progressive events. But what is particularly important is the recognition of the true Catholicity—the Catholicity of Marx and Engels. It is important above all to see in these nineteenth-century endeavors the genuine, true continuation of what has happened with regard to the abolition of the spirit.

[ 22 ] Another impetus for the abolition of the soul lies, after all, in the development of the modern scientific worldview. The scientific worldview—and I am not referring here to the natural sciences themselves, but to the scientific worldview, which, above all, seeks to recognize only the physical as real, and regards everything spiritual merely as an appearance, or even as a kind of superstructure of the physical— is the direct continuation of that development we have just outlined in its key moments at the Eighth Ecumenical Council. However, perhaps a large portion of humanity will not believe in this until, originating from certain centers of Earth’s development, the abolition of the soul attains the force of law—or at least attains some degree of legal force. For it will not be long before laws are enacted in various countries that will effectively declare anyone who speaks seriously of a soul to be of unsound mind, and will declare as fully sane only those who recognize the “truth” that thinking, feeling, and willing arise in an entirely necessary way from certain bodily processes. Various developments have indeed begun in this direction, but as long as what has begun remains merely a theoretical concept, it will not have its great, profoundly far-reaching effect and significance. It will attain this profoundly far-reaching effect and significance when it enters the social order and the social life of human beings. And the first half of this century will scarcely come to an end without something happening in these areas that is, to the discerning mind, a terrible thing: precisely such a perhorrization of the soul as occurred in the ninth century when the spirit was perhorrized.

[ 23 ] One can only say, again and again: What is at stake here is insight into such things, insight into the impulses within which human beings live in the course of historical development—insight into these things. For it is all too true of present-day humanity that, under the influence of the education imparted by the purely materialistic worldview, it has succumbed to a certain state of slumber. The materialistic worldview, in a certain sense, cuts people off from true thinking, from a truly healthy perception of reality, and lulls them into complacency regarding the vital forces that truly animate historical development. And so even today, even among those who would like to pursue a certain longing for spiritual knowledge, there is still no strong will to awaken to certain impulses inherent in our development—to truly awaken; to truly attempt to view things in their contexts, as they are.

[ 24 ] So there was a kind of secret teaching over in Palestine that prepared the way for the Mystery of Golgotha, in relation to which the Mystery of Golgotha was like a fulfillment. I expressed this by saying that the Mystery of Golgotha brought the greatest mystery of the earthly era onto the historical stage. If that is the case, then one might ask: Why did Roman civilization develop such a strong antipathy toward what emerged there as Christianity in connection with the Mystery of Golgotha? And why did these impulses lead to the virtual abolition of the spirit?

[ 25 ] Things always have much deeper connections than one actually realizes when looking at them merely on the surface. For while not many people today would be willing to admit that Marx and Engels are Church Fathers, that is not a particularly profound truth in itself. It does, however, lead to a deeper truth when one considers the following: In the court where Jesus Christ was condemned, it was primarily the Sadducees—those who were called Sadducees—who were active. What were they like at the time when the Mystery of Golgotha unfolded? What were they, in fact, who were rightly designated by the name “Sadducees” back then? They were the people who wanted to sweep away, eliminate, and eradicate everything that came from the Mystery. These Sadducees were precisely those who felt a certain horror, dread, and shudder at any form of mystery cult. Yet they were the ones who controlled the court. And they were also the ones who held the reins of administration in Palestine at that time. Yet they were entirely under the influence of the Roman state—utterly under the influence of the Roman state. They were, in essence, servants of the Roman state, a fact that was outwardly evident in that they purchased their offices for enormous sums of money, which they in turn extorted from the Jewish population of Palestine. It was they whose gaze was directed above all toward this—because, one might say, their Ahrimanic materialism had sharpened their vision for this—it was they whose gaze was directed above all toward recognizing that a great danger to Roman civilization would arise if what was happening with Christ in harmony with the mystery traditions were to gain any ground. They had an instinctive inkling that something emanating from Christianity would gradually shatter Roman civilization. And this is connected to the fact that, essentially, throughout the first century and even into later centuries, the Roman Empire waged these terrible wars of annihilation against Palestinian Judaism. And these wars of annihilation, which were of a most terrible nature, were waged primarily with the aim of exterminating, along with the Jews who were to be slaughtered, all those who knew anything of the tradition and reality of the mysteries. Everything connected to the mystery tradition that existed in Palestine was to be eradicated root and branch.

[ 26 ] And this eradication is closely linked to the fact that the concept of the pneumatic human—the path to the pneumatic human—was, at first, I would say, blocked off, walled up. It would have become dangerous for those who, even later, from Rome and from within Romanized Christianity, sought to abolish the Spirit; it would have become dangerous for them if there had still been many who, coming from the ancient schools of Palestine, knew something about the paths leading to the Spirit—who could still have borne witness to the fact that the human being consists of body, soul, and Spirit. For what emerged from Roman culture had to establish something regarding the external human order in which the spirit had no place. A current of development had to be initiated that excluded spiritual impulses. That would not have been possible if too many people had known anything about the mystical interpretation of the Mystery of Golgotha. For people instinctively felt that whatever was to develop out of the Roman state must contain nothing of the spirit. The Church and the Roman state entered into a union, and from this union they also established jurisprudence in particular. In all of this, the spirit was not allowed to have a say. That was important.

[ 27 ] But it is just as important to realize that we are now living in an age in which the Spirit must once again be called upon, must be invoked, so that it may have a say in human affairs. Now you can imagine how difficult that will be, since these issues run so deep. I believe there is still a long way to go before it is widely recognized that materialist historical research is a true continuation of the Eighth Ecumenical Council. I also believe there is still a long way to go before people understand what is actually contained in those few letters that distinguish Eastern Christianity in Europe from Western Christianity in Europe. Today, people are content to speak only superficially about all these things, to pass judgment only on the surface. Much will have to spring from a sense of feeling, and that feeling can be well guided if one takes one thing into account. The feeling I am referring to, with which I conclude today, is this:

[ 28 ] Anyone who studies the true history of Europe since the emergence of Christianity—and does not content themselves with that conventional fable which is so appallingly taught as history today and is secretly to blame for much misfortune— anyone with a true appreciation for the study of history, anyone with the courage to reject with sufficient force that appalling conventional fable that is called history today—will, precisely with regard to the development of Christianity, arrive at a realization that can serve as a guiding principle in the search for meaning in the present. For they will find that nothing has encountered as many obstacles, nothing has been subjected to as many obscurations and distortions, as the development of Christianity. Nothing has become as difficult as the very fact that Christianity has persisted. And from this arises the further realization that, if one is to speak of miracles at all, there is no greater miracle than this: that Christianity has endured, that Christianity exists. But it is not merely here; rather, we are living today in a time when Christianity will indeed have to assert itself—not only against the abolition of the spirit, but also against the abolition of the soul—and yet it will prevail! For it is precisely at the time of greatest resistance that Christianity will develop its greatest strength! And in the resistance that must be mounted against the abolition of the soul, the strength to recognize the spirit anew will also be found. If from the spirit—please forgive me now for the improper use of the word—if from the spirit that dominates the present, those laws arise by which people who regard the soul as something real are declared to be of unsound mind—of course, the laws will not state that anyone who acknowledges the soul is declared to be of unsound mind, but they will be such that, under the brutal scientific worldview, such things will take place—when this modern, transformed, metamorphosed council decision is in place, then the time will also have come to restore the Spirit to its rightful place.

[ 29 ] Then, however, one will have to realize that one cannot make do with shadowy concepts unless one sees the deeper origins, the emotional underpinnings of these shadowy concepts. For hidden within these shadowy concepts is sometimes that which modern man does not want to admit to himself at all, yet to which he is subject. Because he does not want to admit it, because he does not acknowledge it outwardly, it appears in his concepts as a form of punishment. Yet Saint-Martin says in more significant passages: One cannot speak of these things. — Certainly, there will be many things we will not be able to speak of for a long time to come, but some things ought to be set up like tablets of bronze to point out to humanity today what actually is. And such a tablet will one day show—in the not-too-distant future—from which secret inclinations the materialistic interpretation of Darwinism arose, and from which sensual, perverse inclinations materialistic Darwinism itself emerged.

[ 30 ] But I do not wish to weigh down your spirits with anything that might spoil this evening for you, so I will not finish that sentence; instead, I will simply direct your thoughts toward such matters. Next time, let us at least try to sketch out a structure for which I would like to lay building blocks before your souls, as a foundation for a special contemplation of the Mystery of Golgotha.