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Earthly Death and Cosmic Life
GA 181

5 March 1918, Berlin

4. The Cosmic Thoughts and our Dead

In a recent lecture held here I spoke of the possible relations of the incarnate to the discarnate human souls—the so-called dead;—relations not only possible but which really always exist. To-day I shall add a few remarks to what I have already said.

From various facts presented to our souls by Spiritual Science, we know that in course of the earth's evolution, the spirit of man passes through an evolution of its own. We know that man can only understand himself by a fruitful consideration of the question: What is man's attitude in any one incarnation, in his present incarnation, to the spiritual world, to the spiritual realms? To what stage of evolution has mankind in general attained in the time when we ourselves live in a definite incarnation.

We know that outer observation of this general evolution of mankind allows of the opinion that in earlier times, earlier epochs, a certain ‘atavistic clairvoyance’ was poured over mankind, the human soul was then, as it were, nearer to the spiritual worlds. But it was also further from its own freedom, its own freewill, to which in our age we are nearer while more shut off from the spiritual world. Anyone who knows the real nature of man at the present time must say: in the unconscious self, in the really spiritual part of man, there is, of course, the same relation to the whole spiritual world; but in his knowledge, in his consciousness, man in general cannot realise it in the same way as was possible to him in earlier epochs, though there are exceptions. If we enquire into the reason why man cannot bring to consciousness the relation of his soul to the spiritual world,—which is, of course, as strong as ever though of a different kind—we find that it is due to the fact that we have passed the middle of the earth's evolution and are now in the ascending stream of its existence, and our physical organisation (although, of course, this is not perceptible to external anatomy and physiology) has become more ‘physical’ than it was, so that in the time we spend between birth or conception and death, we are no longer organised to bring fully to consciousness our connection with the spiritual world. We must clearly understand that no matter how materialistic we are we actually experience in the subconscious region of the soul much more than the sum of our general conscious knowledge.

This goes even further, and here we come to a very important point in the evolution of present humanity. In general, man is not able to think, perceive and feel all that could really be thought, perceived and felt within him. At the present time he is gifted for far more intensive thoughts and perceptions than are possible through the coarse material components of his organism. This has a certain consequence, namely, that at the present epoch of human evolution we are not in a position to bring our capacities to complete development in our earthly life. Whether we die young or old has very little influence upon that. For both young and old it is the rule that, on account of the coarse substance of his organism, man cannot fully attain to what would be possible were his body more finely organised. Thus, whether we pass through the gate of death old or young, there is a residue of unexercised thoughts, perceptions and feelings which, for the above reason, we could not elaborate. We all die leaving certain thoughts, feelings and perceptions unexercised. These are there, and when we pass through the gate of death, whether young or old, these occasion an intense desire to return to earthly life for further thinking, feeling and perceiving.

Let us reflect upon the bearing of this. We only become free after death to form certain thoughts, feelings and perceptions. We could do much more for the earth if we had been able to bring them to fruition during our physical life, but we cannot do this. It is actually true that every man to-day could do much more for the earth with the capacities within him than he actually does. In earlier epochs of evolution this was not so, for when the organism was finer there was a certain conscious looking into the spiritual world, and man could work from the spirit. Then he could, as a rule, accomplish all for which his gifts fitted him. Although man is now so proud of his talents, the above is true.

Because of this, we can recognise how necessary it is that what is carried through the gate of death unused should not be lost to earth-life. That can only be brought about by cultivating the union with the dead under the guidance of Spiritual Science, in the sense often described, by rightly maintaining the connection with the dead with whom we are united by karmic ties, and endeavouring to make the union a conscious, a fully conscious one. Then these unfulfilled thoughts of the dead pass through our souls into the world, and, through this transmission, we can allow these stronger thoughts—which are possible to the dead because they are free from the body—to work in our souls. Our own thoughts we cannot bring to full development, but these thoughts could work within us.

We see from this that what has brought us materialism should also show us how absolutely necessary at the present time and for the near future is the quest of a true relation to the spirits of the dead. The only question is: How can we draw these thoughts, perceptions and feelings from the realm of the dead into our own souls?

I have already given certain hints as to this, and in the last lecture spoken of the important moments which should be well observed: the moment of falling asleep and that of waking. I shall now describe with more detail a few things connected with this.

The dead cannot directly enter this world of ordinary waking life, which we outwardly perceive, in which we act through our will and which rests upon our desires. It is out of their reach, when they have passed through the gate of death; yet we can have a world in common with them if, spurred on by Spiritual Science, we make the effort—which is difficult in our present materialistic age—to discipline the world of our thinking as well as our outer life, and not to allow our thoughts the customary free course. We can develop certain faculties which introduce us to a ground in common with the spirits who have passed through the gate of death. There are, of course, at the present time a great many hindrances to finding this common ground. The first hindrance is one to which I have but little referred, but what is to be said thereon follows from other considerations already discussed here. The first hindrance is that we are, as a rule, too prodigal with our thoughts, we might even say we are dissipated in our thought-life. What, exactly, is meant by this?

The man of to-day lives almost entirely under the influence of the saying: ‘Thoughts pay no toll.’ That is, one may allow almost anything to flash at will through the mind. Just consider that speech is a reflection of our thought life; and realise what thought-life is allowed free course by the speech of most people, as they chatter and wander from subject to subject, allowing thoughts to flash up at will. This means a dissipation of the force with which our thinking is endowed! We continually indulge in prodigality, we are wholly dissipated in our thought-life. We allow our thoughts to take their own course. We desire something which occurs to us, and we drop that as something else occurs; in short, we are disinclined in some respects to keep our thought under control. How annoying it is, sometimes, for instance, when someone begins to talk; we listen to him for a minute or two, then he turns to quite a different subject, while we feel it necessary to continue the subject he began. It may be important. We must then fix our attention and ask ourselves, ‘Of what did we begin to talk?’ Such things occur every day, when subjects of real earnestness are to be brought into discussion, we have continually to keep in mind the subject begun. This prodigality, this dissipation of thought-force, hinders thoughts which, coming from the depths of our soul-being, are not our own, but which we have in common with the universal ruling spirit. This impulse to fly at will from thought to thought does not allow us to wait in the waking condition for thoughts to come from the depths of our soul-life; it does not allow us to wait for ‘inspirations,’ if we may so express it. That, however should be so cultivated—especially in our time, for the reasons given—that we actually form in our souls the disposition to wait watchfully until thoughts arise, in a sense, from the subsoil, which distinctly proclaim themselves as ‘given,’ not formed by ourselves.

We must not suppose that the formation of such a mood is able to appear on swift wings—it cannot do so. It has to be cultivated; but when it is cultivated, when we really take the trouble to be awake and, having driven out the arbitrary thoughts, wait for what can be received in the mind, this mood gradually develops. Then it becomes possible to receive thoughts from the depths of the soul, from a world wider than our ego-hood. If we really develop this, we shall soon perceive that in the world there is not only what we see, hear and perceive with our outer senses, and combine with our intellect, but there is also an objective thought-texture. Only few possess this to-day as their own innate knowledge. This experience of a universal thought-tissue, in which the soul actually exists, is not some kind of special occult experience; it is something that any man can have if he develops the aforementioned mood. From this experience he can say: In my every-day life I stand in the world which I perceive with my senses and have put together with the intellect; I now find myself in a position in which I am as though standing on the shore, I plunge into the sea and swim in the surging water; so can I, standing on the brink of sense-existence, thus plunge into the surging sea of thought. I am really as though in a surging sea. We can have the feeling of a life—or, at least, we have an inkling of a life, stronger and more intense than the mere dream-life, yet having just such a boundary between it and outer sense-reality as that between dream-life and sense-reality. We can, if we desire, speak of such experience as ‘dreams,’ but they are no dreams! For the world into which we plunge, this world of surging thoughts which are not our own, but those in which we are submerged, is the world out of which our physical sense-world arises, out of which it arises in a condensed form, as it were. Our physical world of sense is like blocks of ice floating in water: the water is there, the ice congeals and floats in it. As the ice consists of the same substance as the water, only raised to a different physical condition, so our physical world of sense arises from this surging, undulating sea of thought. That is its actual origin. Physics speaks only of ‘ether,’ of whirling atoms, because it does not know this actual primordial substance. Shakespeare was nearer to it when he makes one of his characters say: ‘The world of reality is but the fabric of a dream.’ Men lend themselves too easily to all kinds of deception in respect to such things. They wish to find a great atomic world behind physical reality; but if we wish to speak of anything at all behind physical reality, we must speak of the objective thought-tissue, the objective thought-world. We only arrive at this when, by ceasing the prodigality and dissipation of thought, we develop that mood which comes when we can wait for what is popularly called ‘inspiration.’

For those who study Spiritual Science it is not so difficult to develop the mood here described, for the method of thought necessary for the study of anthroposophical Spiritual Science trains the soul for such development. When a man seriously studies Spiritual Science he comes to the need of developing this intimate thought-tissue within. This thought-tissue provides us with the common sphere in which are present we ourselves on the one hand, and on the other hand the so-called dead. This is the common ground on which we can ‘meet with’ them. They cannot come into the world which we perceive with our senses and combine with our intellect, but they can enter the world just described.

A second thing was given in the observation of finer, more intimate life-relationships. I spoke of this last year and gave an example which can be found in psychological literature. Schubert calls attention to it; it is an example taken from old literature, but such examples can still often be found in life. A man was accustomed to take a certain walk daily. One day, when he reached a certain spot, he had a feeling to go to the side and stand still, and the thought came to him whether it was right to waste time over this walk. At that moment a boulder which had split from the rock fell on the road and would certainly have struck him if he had not turned aside from the road on account of his thought.

This is one of the crude experiences we may encounter in life, but those of a more subtle kind daily press into our ordinary life, though as a rule we do not observe them; we only reckon with what actually does happen, not with what might have happened had it not been averted. We reckon with what happens when we are kept at home a quarter of an hour longer than we intended. Often and often, if we did but reflect, we should find that something worthy of remark happened, which would have been quite different if we had not been detained.

Try to observe systematically in your own life what might have happened had you not been delayed a few minutes by somebody coming in, though, perhaps, at the time, you were very angry at being detained. Things are constantly pressed into one's life which might have been very different according to their original intention. We seek a ‘causal connection,’ between events in life. We do not reflect upon life with that subtle refinement which would he in the consideration of the breaking of a probable chain of events, so that, I might say, an atmosphere of possibilities continually surrounds us.

If we give our attention to this, and have been delayed in doing something which we have been accustomed to do at mid-day, we shall have a feeling that what we do at that time is often—it may not always be so—not under the influence of foregoing occurrences only, but also under the influence of the countless things which have not happened, from which we have been held back. By thinking of what is possible in life—not only in the outer reality of sense—we are driven to the surmise that we are so placed in life that to look for the connection of what follows with what has gone before is a very one-sided way of looking at life. If we truly ask ourselves such questions, we rouse something which in our mind would otherwise lie dormant. We come, as it were, to ‘read between the lines’ of life; we come to know it in its many-sidedness. We come to see ourselves, so to speak, in our environment, and we see how it forms us and brings us forward little by little. This we usually observe far too little. At most, we only consider the inner driving forces that lead us from stage to stage. Let us take some simple ordinary instance from which we may gather how we only bring the outer into connection with our inner being, in a very fragmentary way.

Let us turn our attention to the way we usually realise our waking in the morning. At most, we acquire a very meagre idea of how we make ourselves get up; perhaps, even the concept of this is very nebulous. Let us, however, reflect for a while upon the thought which at times drives us out of bed; let us try to make this individual, quite clear and concrete. Thus: yesterday I got up because I heard the coffee being made ready in the next room; this aroused an impulse to get up; to-day something else occurred. That is, let us be quite clear, what was the outer impelling force. Man usually forgets to seek himself in the outer world, hence he finds himself so little there. Anyone who gives even a little attention to such a thought as this will easily develop that mood of which man has a holy—nay, an unholy—terror,—the realisation that there is an undercurrent of thought which does not enter the ordinary life. A man enters a room, for instance or goes to some place, but he seldom asks himself how the place changes when he enters it. Other people have an idea of this at times, but even this notion of it from outside is not very widespread to-day. I do not know how many people have any perception of the fact that when a company is in a room, often one man is twice as strongly there as another; the one is strongly present, the other is weak. That depends on the imponderabilities. We may easily have the following experience: A man is at a meeting, he comes softly in, and glides out again; and one has the feeling that an angel has flitted in and out. Another's presence is so powerful that he is not only present with his two physical feet but, as it were, with all sorts of invisible feet. Others do not, as a rule, notice it, although it is quite perceptible; and the man himself does not notice it at all. A man does not, as a rule, hear that ‘undertone’ which arises from the change called forth by his presence; he keeps to himself, he does not enquire of his surroundings what change his presence produces. He can, however, acquire an inkling, a perception of the echo of his presence in his surroundings. Just think how our outer lives would gain in intimacy if a man not only peopled the place with his presence but had the feeling of what was brought about by his being there, making his influence felt by the change he brings.

That is only one example. Many such can be brought forward for all situations in life. In other words, it is possible in quite a sound way—not by constantly treading on his own toes—for a man so to densify the medium of life that he feels the incision he himself makes in it. In this way he learns to acquire the beginning of a sensitivity to karma; but if he were fully to perceive what comes about through his deeds or presence, if he always saw in his surroundings the reflection of his own deeds and existence, he would have a distinct feeling of his karma; for karma is woven of this joint experience. I shall now only point to the enrichment of life by the addition of such intimacies, when we can thus read between the lines, when we learn to look thus into life and become alive to the fact that we are present, when we are present with our ‘consciousness.’ By such consciousness we also help to create a sphere common to us and to the dead. When we in our consciousness are able to look up to the two pillars just described: a high-principled course of life, and an economy, not prodigality of thought,—when we develop this inner frame of mind it will be accompanied by success, the success that is necessary for the present and the future when, in the way described, we approach the dead. Then, when we form thoughts, which we connect not merely with a union in thought with one of the dead, but with a common life in interest and feeling; when we further spin such thoughts of life-situations with the dead, thoughts of our life with him, so that a tone of feeling plays between us—when we thus unite ourselves, not to a casual meeting with him but to a moment when it interested us to know how he thought, lived, acted, and when what we roused in him interested him,—we can use such moments to continue, as it were, the conversation of the thoughts. If we can then allow these thoughts to lie quiet, so that we pass into a kind of meditation, and the thoughts are, as it were, brought to the altar of the inner spiritual life, a moment comes when we receive an answer from the dead, when he can again make himself understood by us. We only need to build the bridge of what we develop towards him, by which he on his side can come to us. For this coming it will be specially useful to develop in our deepest soul an image of his entity. That is something far from the present time because, as we said, people pass one another by, often coming together in most intimate spheres of life and parting again without knowing one another. This becoming acquainted does not depend on mutual analysis. Any one who feels himself being analysed by those living with him, if he is of a finely organised soul, feels as though he received a blow. It is of no moment to analyse one another. The best knowledge of another is gained by harmony of heart; there is no need to analyse at all.

I started with the statement that cultivation of relations with the so-called dead is specially needed to-day, because not from choice but simply through the evolution of humanity, we live in an epoch of materialism. Because we are not able to mould and fashion all our capacities of thought, feeling and perception before we die, because something of it remains over when we pass through the gate of death, it is necessary for the living to maintain the right intercourse with the dead, that the ordinary life of man may be enriched thereby. If we could but bring to the heart of men to-day the fact that life is impoverished if the dead are forgotten! A right thinking of the dead can only be developed by those in some way connected with them by karma.

When we strive for a similar intercourse with the dead as with the living (as I said before, these things are generally very difficult, because we are not conscious of them, but we are not conscious of all that is true, and not everything of which we are conscious is on that account unreal)—if we cultivate intercourse with the dead in this way, the dead are really present, and their thoughts, not completed in their own life will work into this life. What has been said makes indeed a great demand on our age. Nevertheless, it is said, because we are convinced by spiritual facts, that our social life, our ethical religious life, would experience an infinite enrichment if the living allowed themselves to be ‘advised’ by the dead. To-day man is disinclined to consult even those who have come to a mature age. To-day it is regarded as right for quite a young man to take part in councils of town and state, because while young he is mature enough for everything—in his own opinion. In ages when there was a better knowledge of the being of man, he had to reach a certain age before being in any council. Now people must wait until others are dead in order to receive advice from them! Nevertheless, our age, our epoch, ought to be willing to listen to the counsel of the dead, for welfare can only come about when man is willing to listen to their advice.

Spiritual Science demands energy of man. This must be clearly understood. Spiritual Science demands a certain direction; that man should really aspire to consistency and clearness. There is need to seek for clearness in our disastrous events: the search for it is of the utmost importance. Such things as we have been discussing are connected, more than is supposed, with the great demands of our time. I have tried this winter, and many years before this world-catastrophe, in my lectures on the European Folk-Souls, to point out much which is to be found to-day in the general relations of humanity. A certain understanding of what plays its part in present events can be derived from reading the course of lectures I gave in Christiania on ‘The Mission of the Several Folk Souls.’ It is not too late, and much will still take place in the coming years for which understanding can be gained from that series of lectures.

The mutual relations of man to-day are only really comprehensible to one who can perceive the spiritual impulses. The time is gradually approaching when it will be necessary for man to ask himself: How is the perception and thought of the East related to that of Europe—especially of Mid-Europe? Again, how is this related to that of the West, of America? These questions in all their possible variations ought to arise before the souls of men. Even now man should ask himself: How does the Oriental regard Europe to-day? The Oriental who scrutinises Europe carefully, has the feeling that European civilisation leads to a deadlock, and has led to an abyss. He feels that he dare not lose what he has brought over of spirituality from ancient times when he receives what Europe can give him. He does not disdain European machines, for instance, but he says—and these are the actual words of a renowned Oriental: ‘We will accept the European machines and instruments, but we will keep them in the shops, not in our temples and homes as he does.’ He says that the European has lost the faculty to perceive the spirit in nature, to see the beauty in nature. When the Oriental looks upon what he alone can see—that the European only holds to outer mechanism, to the outer material in his action and thought—he believes that he is called upon to reawaken the old spirituality, to rescue the old spirituality of earthly humanity. The Oriental who speaks in a concrete way of spiritual things says: (as Rabindranath Tagore a short while ago) Europeans have drawn into their civilisation those impulses which could only be drawn in by harnessing Satan to their car of civilisation; they utilise the forces of Satan for progress. The Oriental is called upon—so Rabindranath Tagore believes—to cast out Satan and bring back spirituality to Europe.

This is a phenomenon which, unfortunately, is too easily overlooked. We have experienced much, but in our evolution we have left out of account much that might have been brought in if we had, for instance, a spiritual substance like that of Goethe, livingly in our civilisation. Someone might say: The Oriental can look towards Europe to-day and know that Goethe lived in European life. He can know this. Does he see it? It might be said: The Germans have founded a Society, the ‘Goethe Society’. Let us suppose the Oriental wished to be well-informed about it and to look into the facts. (The question of East and West already plays a part, it ultimately depends on spiritual impulses.) He would say to himself: Goethe worked so powerfully that even in 1879 the opportunity presented itself to make Goethe fruitful to German civilisation in an unusual way, so to say, under favourable circumstances. A Princess, the Grand Duchess Sophia of Weimar, with all those around her, in 1879 took over Goethe's library of writings in order to cultivate it as had never been done for any other writer before. That is so. Let us, however, consider the Goethe Society as an outer instrument. It, too, exists. A few years ago the post of President fell vacant. In the whole realm of intellectual life only one, a former Minister of Finance, was found to be elected as President of the Society! That is what is to be seen outwardly. Such things are more important than is usually supposed. What is more necessary is that the Oriental, aflame with spirituality and wise in it, should come to know that there is in European civilisation a Spiritual Science directed by Anthroposophy; yet he cannot know of this. It cannot reach him, because it cannot get through what exists—because the President of the Goethe Society is a retired Minister of Finance. But, of course, that is only one phenomenon symptomatic of the times.

A third demand, we might say, is an incisive thinking bound up with reality, a thinking in which man does not remain in want of clearness, in vague life-compromises. On my last journey someone put into my hand something concerning a fact with which I was already acquainted. I will only give a short extract from a cutting from a periodical:—

‘To any one who has ever sat on a school bench, the hours when he enjoyed the conversations between Socrates and his friends in “Plato” will ever be memorable; memorable on account of the prodigious tediousness of these speeches. He remembers, perhaps, that he found them absolutely idiotic, but, of course, he did not dare to express this opinion, for the man in question was indeed Socrates, the Greek Philosopher. Alexander Moszkowski's book, “Socrates the Idiot,” (publisher, Eysler and Co., Berlin), duly does away with this wholly unjustifiable estimate of the great Athenian. The multi-historian, Moszkowski, undertakes in this small, entertaining book nothing less than almost entirely to divest Socrates of his dignity as a philosopher. The title “Socrates, the Idiot,” is meant literally. One will not go astray in the assumption that scientific discussions will be attached to this work.’

The first thing which strikes a man when he is made acquainted with such a matter makes him say: How does so extraordinary a thing come about, that a person like Alexander Moszkowski should wish to furnish proof that Socrates was an idiot? This is the first impression; but that is a feeling of compromise which does not arise from a clear, incisive thinking, a confronting of actual reality.

I should like to compare this with something else. There are books written on the life of Jesus from the standpoint of psychiatry. They examine all that Jesus did from the standpoint of modern psychiatry and compare it with various abnormal actions, and the modern psychiatrist proves from the Gospels that Jesus must have been an abnormal man, an epileptic, and that the Gospels can only be understood at all from the Pauline point of view. Full particulars are given on this subject.

It is very simple to lightly overlook these things; but the matter lies somewhat deeper. If we take the stand of modern psychiatry, if we accede to it as officially recognised, on thinking over the life of Jesus, we must come to the same conclusion as the authors of these books. We could not think differently or we should be untrue; in no sense a modern psychiatrist. Nor should we be true modern psychiatrists in the sense of Alexander Moszkowski, if we did not regard Socrates as an idiot. Moszkowski only differs from those who do not regard Socrates as an idiot, in that they are untrue;—he is true—he makes no compromise. It is not possible to be true and to take up the standpoint of Alexander Moszkowski without regarding Socrates as an idiot. If a man wishes to be at the same time an adherent of the philosophy of life held by modern science and yet to esteem Socrates without regarding him as an idiot, he is untrue. So, too, is a modern psychiatrist who holds to the life of Jesus. Modern man, however, does not wish to go so far as this clear standpoint, or he would have to put the question differently. He would have to say to himself: I do not regard Socrates as an idiot, I have learned to know him better; but that demands the rejection of Moszkowski's philosophy of life; in Jesus, too, I see the greatest bearer of ideas who has at any time come in touch with earthly life; but this demands the rejection of modern psychiatry; they cannot agree!

The point in question is: clear thinking in accordance with reality, a thinking that makes none of the ordinary idle compromises which can only be removed when one understands life. It is easy to think—or be filled with indignation, if one is asked to allow that according to Moszkowski, Socrates is an idiot; yet it is consistent with the modern philosophy of life to regard Socrates as an idiot. People of this age, however, do not wish to draw these logical conclusions, they do not wish to relinquish anything like the modern philosophy of life lest they come into a still more troublesome position. One would then have to make compromises, and perhaps admit that Socrates was no idiot; but suppose it then appears that—Moszkowski is an idiot? Well, he is not a great man; but if this were applied to much greater men, many and various untoward things might happen!

To penetrate into the spiritual world, a thinking in accordance with truth is necessary. This requires, on the other hand, a clear recognition of how things stand. Thoughts are real entities, and untrue thoughts are evil, obstructing, destructive entities. To spread a veil of mist over this avails nothing, because man himself is untrue if he wishes to give to Moszkowski's philosophy of life equal weight with that of Socrates. It is an untrue thought to place the two side by side in his soul, as the modern man does.

Man is only true when he brings before his soul the fact that he either stands with Moszkowski, at the standpoint of the pure mechanism of pure natural science, regarding Socrates as an idiot, in which he is then true; or, on the other hand, he knows that Socrates was no idiot, and then in order to think clearly, the other must necessarily be firmly rejected. The ideal, which the man of to-day should set before his soul, is to be true; for thoughts are realities, and true thoughts are beneficial realities. Untrue thoughts—however well they may be enwrapped with the cloak of leniency as regards their own nature,—untrue thoughts received into man's inner being, are realities which retard the world and humanity.

Vierter Vortrag

In einer der letzten Betrachtungen, die wir hier gepflogen haben, habe ich von dem Verhältnis gesprochen, in welchem die hier im Leibe verkörperten Menschenseelen zu den entkörperten Menschenseelen, zu den sogenannten Toten stehen können, oder eigentlich immer stehen. An diese Betrachtungen möchte ich heute mit einigen andern Bemerkungen anknüpfen.

Wir wissen aus Verschiedenem, was durch die Geisteswissenschaft an unsere Seelen herangetreten ist, daß der Menschengeist im Laufe der Erdenentwickelung auch seine Entwickelung durchmacht. Wir wissen ferner, daß der Mensch sich nur dadurch selbst erkennen kann, daß er sich in fruchtbarer Weise die Frage vorlegt: Wie verhält sich der Mensch in einer bestimmten Inkarnation, in dieser Inkarnation, in der er eben ist, zu den geistigen Welten, zu den geistigen Reichen? Welche Stufe der Entwickelung der allgemeinen Menschheit ist erreicht, wenn wir selbst in einer bestimmten Inkarnation leben?

Wir wissen, wie die mehr ausführliche Betrachtung dieser Gesamtentwickelung der Menschheit uns darüber zur Einsicht kommen läßt, daß in früheren Zeiten, in früheren Epochen der Menschheitsentwickelung ein gewisses, wir haben es atavistisches Hellsehen genannt, über die Menschheit ausgegossen war, daß in früheren Epochen der Menschheitsentwickelung gewissermaßen die Menschenseele näher war den geistigen Welten. Während sie damals den geistigen Welten näher war, war sie ferner ihrer eigenen Freiheit, ihrem eigenen freien Willen, dem sie wiederum näher ist in unserer Zeit, in der sie im allgemeinen mehr abgeschlossen ist von den geistigen Welten. Erkennt man das Wesen des Menschen innerhalb der Gegenwart wirklich, so muß man sagen, im Unbewußten, im eigentlich Geistigen des Menschen besteht natürlich dasselbe Verhältnis zur gesamten geistigen Welt. Aber im Wissen, im Bewußtsein kann heute der Mensch selber dieses Verhältnis sich im allgemeinen nicht in derselben Weise vergegenwärtigen; gewisse Einzelne können es, aber im allgemeinen kann es sich der Mensch nicht so vergegenwärtigen, wie ihm das in früheren Zeitepochen möglich war. Wenn wir nach den Gründen fragen, warum der Mensch heute das Verhältnis seiner Seele zur geistigen Welt, das selbstverständlich in derselben Stärke vorhanden ist wie nur je, wenn auch in anderer Art, sich nicht zum Bewußtsein bringen kann, so rührt das davon her, daß wir bereits die Mitte der Erdenentwickelung überschritten haben, uns gewissermaßen in der absteigenden Entwickelungsströmung des Erdendaseins befinden, daß wir mit unserer physischen Organisation — wenn das auch natürlich für die äußere Anatomie und Physiologie nicht bemerkbar ist - physischer geworden sind, als es früher der Fall war, und daß wir so während der Zeit zwischen Geburt oder Empfängnis und Tod nicht mehr die Organisation haben, um unseren Zusammenhang mit der geistigen Welt uns voll zum Bewußtsein bringen zu können. Wir erleben heute tatsächlich — dessen müssen wir uns nur ganz klar sein - in den unterbewußten Seelenregionen, und wenn wir noch so materialistisch sind, viel mehr als das ist, wessen wir uns im allgemeinen bewußt werden können.

Das geht aber noch weiter. Und da komme ich auf einen sehr wichtigen Punkt in der gegenwärtigen Menschheitsentwickelung. Es geht so weit, daß der Mensch in der Gegenwart im allgemeinen nicht in der Lage ist, alles das wirklich durchzudenken, durchzuempfinden, durchzufühlen, was in ihm eigentlich gedacht, empfunden, gefühlt werden könnte. Der Mensch ist heute zu viel intensiveren Gedanken, zu viel intensiveren Gefühlen und Empfindungen veranlagt, als er sie haben kann durch die, ich möchte sagen, grobe Stofflichkeit seines Organismus. Das hat eine gewisse Folge, die Folge nämlich, daß wir in der gegenwärtigen Zeit der Menschheitsentwickelung nicht in der Lage sind, mit der völligen Ausbildung unserer Anlagen in unserem Erdenleben fertig zu werden. Darauf hat im Grunde genommen wenig Einfluß, ob wir in jungen Jahren sterben oder als alte Leute. Für jung und alt Sterbende gilt es, daß der Mensch heute, vermöge der Grobstofflichkeit seines Organismus, nicht voll ausleben kann, was er ausleben würde, wenn er eben feiner, intimer in bezug auf seinen Leib organisiert wäre. Und so bleibt - ob wit, wie gesagt, jung oder alt durch des Todes Pforte gehen -— während unserer Erdenorganisation ein gewisser Rest unverarbeiteter Gedanken, unverarbeiteter Empfindungen und Gefühle, die wir aus dem angegebenen Grunde eben wirklich nicht verarbeiten können. Wir sterben heute alle gewissermaßen so, daß wir Gedanken, Gefühle und Empfindungen unverarbeitet lassen. Diese Gedanken, Gefühle und Empfindungen und immer wieder muß ich betonen, ob wir jung oder alt sterben, es kommt auf dasselbe hinaus — sind unverarbeitet da, und wir haben, wenn wir durch‘die Pforte des Todes gegangen sind, eigentlich alle noch den Drang, weiter im Irdischen zu denken, weiter im Irdischen zu fühlen, weiter im Irdischen zu empfinden.

Bedenken wir einmal, was das für eine Tragweite hat. Wir werden nach dem Tode frei, gewisse Gedanken, Gefühle und Empfindungen dann erst auszubilden. Wir würden viel mehr auf der Erde leisten, wenn wir diese Gedanken, Gefühle und Empfindungen während unseres physischen Lebens ganz ausleben könnten. Wir können es nicht. Tatsächlich ist es so, daß jeder Mensch heute nach dem Maße der Anlagen, die in ihm sind, auf der Erde viel mehr leisten könnte, als er tatsächlich leistet. Das war in früheren Epochen der Menschheitsentwickelung nicht so, als die Organismen feiner waren und ein gewisses bewußtes Hineinschauen in die geistige Welt vorhanden war und die Menschen aus dem Geiste heraus wirken konnten. Da leisteten die Menschen in der Regel alles, was sie ihren Anlagen gemäß leisten konnten. Wenn auch der Mensch heute so stolz ist auf seine Anlagen, die Sache verhält sich doch so, wie geschildert.

Indem die Sache so ist, wird man aber auch für die heutige Zeit die Notwendigkeit anerkennen können, daß dasjenige, was die Toten unverarbeitet durch die Pforte des Todes tragen, für das Erdenleben nicht verlorengehe. Das kann nur dann sein, wenn wir in dem öfter erwähnten Sinne die Verbindung mit den Toten nach Anleitung der Geisteswissenschaft wirklich pflegen, wirklich aufrechterhalten, wenn wir uns bemühen, die Verbindung mit den Toten, mit denen wir karmisch verbunden sind, zu einer bewußten, einer voll bewußten zu machen. Dann leiten sich die nicht ausgelebten Gedanken der Toten durch unsere Seele herein in die Welt, und durch dieses Hereinleiten können diese stärkeren Gedanken dann - diese Gedanken, die der Tote haben kann, weil er vom Leibe befreit ist - in unseren Seelen wirken. Unsere eigenen Gedanken können wir auch nicht bis zur vollen Ausbildung bringen, aber diese Gedanken können wirken,

Wir sehen daraus: Was uns den Materialismus gebracht hat, das sollte uns zu gleicher Zeit darauf aufmerksam machen, wie nötig, wie unbedingt nötig ein Suchen nach einem konkreten, einem wirklichen Verhältnis zu den Geistern der Toten eigentlich für die Gegenwart und die nächste Zukunft ist. Es fragt sich nur: Wie können wir die Gedanken, die Empfindungen und Gefühle, die herein wollen aus dem Reiche, in dem die Toten sind, in unsere Seelen entsprechend hereinbekommen? Auch dazu haben wir schon Gesichtspunkte angegeben, und ich habe bei einer letzten Betrachtung hier gesprochen von den wichtigen Momenten, die der’ Mensch wohl beachten sollte: von dem Moment des Einschlafens und dem Moment des Aufwachens. Ich will heute einiges noch genauer charakterisieren, das damit im Zusammenhang steht.

In diese Welt, in der wir mit unserem gewöhnlichen Wachleben sind, die wir von außen wahrnehmen und in der wir handeln durch unseren Willen, der auf unseren Trieben beruht, in diese Welt kann der Tote nicht unmittelbar herein. Aus dieser Welt ist er, indem er durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen ist, entrückt. Aber wir können dennoch eine Welt gemeinsam mit den Toten haben, wenn wir, angespornt durch die Geisteswissenschaft, den Versuch machen - der ja

‚In unserer heutigen materialistischen Zeit allerdings ein schwieriger Versuch ist -, sowohl die innere Welt unseres Denkens, wie auch die Welt unseres Lebens etwas in Zucht zu nehmen und sie nicht, wie wir es gewohnt sind, frei laufen zu lassen. Wir können gewisse Fähigkeiten ausbilden, die uns einen gemeinsamen Boden mit den Geistern, die durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen sind, zuweisen. Es sind natürlich gerade in der Gegenwart außerordentlich viele Hindernisse im allgemeinen Leben vorhanden, um diesen gemeinsamen Boden zu finden. Das erste Hindernis ist das, was ich vielleicht noch weniger berührt habe. Aber was darüber zu sagen ist, geht aus andern Betrachtungen, die ebenfalls ‚hier gepflogen worden sind, auch schon hervor, Das erste Hindernis ist, daß wir im allgemeinen in unserem Leben mit unseren Gedanken zu verschwenderisch sind. Wir sind alle heute, in unserer Gegenwart, verschwenderisch in bezug auf unser Gedankenleben, ich könnte auch sagen: Wir sind ausschweifend in bezug auf das Gedankenleben. -— Was ist damit eigentlich gemeint?

Der heutige Mensch lebt fast ganz unter dem Eindrucke des Sprichwortes: Gedanken sind zollfrei. Das heißt, man soll eigentlich fast alles durch die Gedanken schießen lassen, was durch die Gedanken schießen will. Bedenken Sie nur einmal, daß doch das Sprechen ein Abbild unseres Gedankenlebens ist, und bedenken Sie, auf welches Gedankenleben das Sprechen der meisten Menschen heute schließen läßt, wenn sie so schnattern, von Thema zu Thema wandern, die Gedanken nur so schießen lassen, wie sie gerade kommen, das heißt: Verschwendung treiben mit der Kraft, die uns zum Denken verliehen ist! Und wir treiben fortwährend Verschwendung, wir sind ganz ausschweifend in unserem Gedankenleben. Wir gestatten uns ganz beliebige Gedanken. Wir wollen etwas, was uns gerade einfällt, oder unterlassen es auch, indem wir einen andern Gedanken einschieben. Kurz, wir sind abgeneigt, unsere Gedanken in gewisser Beziehung unter Kontrolle zu nehmen. Wie unangenehm ist es zum Beispiel manchmal: Jemand fängt etwas zu reden an; man hört ihm eine, zwei Minuten zu; da ist er aber bei einem ganz andern Thema. Nun hat man aber das Bedürfnis, über das, womit man angefangen hat zu reden, sich weiter zu unterhalten. Das kann wichtig sein. Man muß dann aufmerksam machen: Wovon haben wir eigentlich angefangen zu reden? - Dergleichen passiert heute alle Augenblicke, so daß man, wenn wirklich Ernst in das Leben gebracht werden soll, an das begonnene Gespräch erinnern muß. Dieses Verschwenden der Gedankenkraft, dieses Ausschweifen der Gedankenkraft verhindert, daß aus der Tiefe unseres Seelenlebens diejenigen Gedanken zu uns heraufkommen, die nicht die unsrigen sind, sondern die wir mit dem Geistigen, mit dem allgemein waltenden Geist gemein haben. Dieses Drängen in beliebiger Weise von Gedanke zu Gedanke läßt uns nicht dazu kommen, im Wachzustande zu warten, bis aus den Tiefen unseres Seelenlebens die Gedanken heraufkommen, läßt uns nicht auf Eingebungen warten, wenn ich mich so ausdrücken darf. Das aber ist etwas, was — und zwar besonders in unserem Zeitalter, aus den angedeuteten Gründen — geradezu gepflegt werden sollte, so gepflegt werden sollte, daß man wirklich in der Seele die Stimmung ausbildet, welche darin besteht: wachend warten zu können, bis sich Gedanken gewissermaßen aus dem tiefen Untergrunde der Seele heraufheben, die sich deutlich ankündigen als das, was uns gegeben ist, was wir nicht gemacht haben.

Man soll nicht glauben, daß das Ausbilden einer solchen Stimmung in raschem Fluge vor sich gehen könnte. Das kann es nicht. So etwas muß gepflegt werden. Aber wenn es gepflegt wird, wenn wir uns wirklich bemühen, einfach wach zu sein, und nicht, wenn wir die unwillkürlichen Gedanken ausschließen, gleich einzuschlafen, sondern einfach wach zu sein und auf das zu warten, was man eingegeben bekommt, dann bildet sich nach und nach diese Stimmung aus. Dann bildet sich in uns die Möglichkeit aus, Gedanken in unsere Seele hereinzubekommen, die aus der Tiefe der Seele kommen und dadurch aus der Welt kommen, die weiter ist als unsere Egoität. Wenn wir so etwas wirklich ausbilden, werden wir schon wahrnehmen, daß in der Welt nicht bloß das vorhanden ist, was wir mit Augen sehen, mit Ohren hören, mit den äußeren Sinnen wahrnehmen, und wie unser Verstand diese Wahrnehmungen kombiniert, sondern daß ein objektives Gedankenweben in der Welt vorhanden ist. Dies haben heute noch die wenigsten Menschen als ihre ureigene Erfahrung. Dieses Erlebnis von dem allgemeinen Gedankenweben, in dem die Seele eigentlich drinnen ist, ist noch nicht irgendein bedeutsameres, okkulteres Erlebnis; es ist etwas, was jeder Mensch haben kann, wenn er die angedeutete Stimmung in sich ausbildet. Er kann dann das Erlebnis haben, daß er sich sagt: Im alltäglichen Leben stehe ich in der Welt, die ich durch meine Sinne wahrnehme und mit dem Verstande mir zusammenkombiniert habe. Dann aber komme ich in die Lage, wie wenn ich, am Ufer stehend, eintauche in das Meer und da webe in dem wellenden Wasser. So kann ich, am Ufer des sinnlichen Daseins stehend, eintauchen in das webende Meer der Gedanken; da bin ich dann wirklich wie in einem webenden Meer drinnen. — Man kann dann das Gefühl haben, daß man ein Leben ahnt wenigstens, das stärker, intensiver ist als das bloße Traumleben, das aber doch zwischen sich und der äußeren sinnlichen Wirklichkeit eine solche Grenze hat, wie es das Traumleben für die sinnliche Wirklichkeit hat.

Man kann, wenn man will, von solchen Erlebnissen als von Träumen sprechen. Es ist kein Träumen! Denn die Welt, in die man da eintaucht, diese Welt der wogenden Gedanken, die nicht unsere Gedanken sind, sondern die Gedanken, in die man untergetaucht ist, das ist die Welt, aus der unsere physisch-sinnliche Welt aufsteigt, gewissermaßen verdichtet aufsteigt. Unsere physisch-sinnliche Welt ist so wie die Eisblöcke, die Eisklöße im Wasser: das Wasser ist da, die Eisklöße verhärten sich, schwimmen darin. Wie das Eis aus dem Stoffe des Wassers besteht, nur zu anderem Aggregatzustande gefügt ist, so erhebt sich unsere physisch-sinnliche Welt aus diesem wogenden, wellenden Gedankenmeer. Das ist der wirkliche Ursprung. Die Physik spricht nur von ihrem « Äther», von den wirbelnden Atomen, weil sie nicht weiß, welches die wirkliche Urstofflichkeit ist. Shakespeare war dieser wirklichen Utstofflichkeit näher, da er eine seiner Personen sagen ließ: Die Welt der Wirklichkeit ist aus Träumen gewoben. - Die Menschen geben sich in bezug auf solche Dinge nur allzu gern Täuschungen hin. Sie möchten eine grobklotzige atomistische Welt hinter der physischen Wirklichkeit finden. Aber wenn man überhaupt von einem solchen «hinter der physischen Wirklichkeit» sprechen will, so muß man von dem objektiven Gedankenweben, von der objektiven Gedankenwelt sprechen. Dazu kommt man aber nur, wenn man die Ausschweifung, die Verschwendung in bezug auf die Gedanken einstellt und jene Stimmung entwickelt, die dann kommt, wenn man warten kann auf das, was man populär als Eingebung bezeichnet.

Für die, welche sich etwas mit Geisteswissenschaft beschäftigen, ist es nicht so schwierig, diese hier gekennzeichnete Stimmung zu entwickeln. Denn die Art des Denkens, die man entfalten muß, wenn man anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft treibt, leitet die Seele an, eine solche Stimmung zu entwickeln. Und wenn man ernst diese Geisteswissenschaft treibt, dann kommt man zu dem Bedürfnis, solch intimes Gedankenweben in sich zu entwickeln. Dieses Gedankenweben aber bietet uns die gemeinsame Sphäre, in der wir auf der einen Seite, die sogenannten Toten-auf der andern Seite sind. Das ist der gemeinsame Boden, wo man sich mit den Toten treffen kann. In die Welt, die wir mit unseren Sinnen wahrnehmen und mit unserem Verstande kombinieren, kommen die 'Toten nicht herein; aber sie kommen herein in die Welt, die ich eben charakterisiert habe.

Ein zweites ist gegeben in dem, was ich im vorigen Jahre einmal besprochen habe: in dem Beobachten feiner, intimer Lebenszusammenhänge. Sie erinnern sich, um anzudeuten, was ich eigentlich damit meine, habe ich auf ein Beispiel hingewiesen, das man in der psychologischen Literatur finden kann. Schubert macht auch darauf aufmerksam; es ist noch aus der älteren Literatur, aber man kann solche Beispiele immer wieder und wieder im Leben finden. — Ein Mensch ist gewohnt, täglich einen bestimmten Spaziergang zu machen. Als er ihn eines Tages auch wieder macht, hat er, indem er an einem bestimmten Punkt seines Weges ankommt, die Empfindung, er müsse stehenbleiben, zur Seite treten, und es kommt ihm der Gedanke, ob es eigentlich recht ist, die Zeit mit diesem Spaziergange zu verbringen. In diesem Augenblick fällt auf den Weg ein Stein, der sich vom Felsen abgespalten hat und der ihn ganz sicher getroffen hätte, wenn er nicht durch seine Gedanken veranlaßt worden wäre, einen Schritt zur Seite zu treten.

Es ist dies ein grobes Erlebnis, auf das jeder aufmerksam wird, dem dergleichen im Leben passiert. Aber solche Erlebnisse, wenn sie auch feiner geschürzt sind, drängen sich täglich in unser ganz gewöhnliches Leben herein. Wir beachten sie in der Regel nicht. Wir rechnen nur mit dem im Leben, was geschieht, nicht aber mit dem, was hätte geschehen können und dadurch nicht geschehen ist, daß irgend etwas eingetreten ist, was uns von diesem oder jenem abgehalten hat. Wir rechnen mit dem, was passiert ist, wenn wir zu Hause eine Viertelstunde aufgehalten worden sind und einen Gang nun eine Viertelstunde später machen, als beabsichtigt. Oft und oft würde sehr Merkwürdiges herauskommen, wenn wir darüber nachdenken wollten, was denn eigentlich alles anders geworden wäre, wenn wir nun nicht aufgehalten worden wären und eine Viertelstunde früher von Hause weggegangen wären.

Versuchen Sie einmal, systematisch so etwas wirklich in Ihrem Leben zu beobachten, was alles anders geworden wäre, wenn nicht im letzten Augenblicke, als Sie haben weggehen wollen, jemand gekommen wäre, auf den Sie vielleicht sehr böse waren, der Sie einige Minuten aufgehalten hat. Fortwährend drängt sich alles, was hätte anders sein können, nach seiner Veranlagung, in das menschliche Leben herein. Wir suchen einen kausalen Zusammenhang zwischen dem, was im Leben wirklich passiert. Wir denken nicht daran, mit derjenigen Subtilität durch das Leben zu gehen, die in der Annahme eines Abbrechens von veranlagten Geschehensketten liegen würde, so daß, ich möchte sagen, fortwährend über unser Leben eine Atmosphäre von Möglichkeiten ausgegossen ist.

Wenn wir dies mitbeachten, dann haben wir eigentlich immer das Gefühl, wenn wir um zwölf Uhr Mittags etwas tun, nachdem wir Morgens einmal zehn Minuten aufgehalten worden sind: Es steht das, was wir um zwölf Uhr Mittags tun, oftmals — es kann ja auch anders sein — nicht nur unter dem Einfluß der vorhergehenden Ereignisse, sondern auch unter dem Einfluß des Unzähligen, was nicht geschehen ist, wovon wir abgehalten worden sind. Dadurch daß wir das Mögliche, nicht nur das äußerlich-sinnlich Wirkliche, mit unserem Leben in Zusammenhang denken, werden wir zu der Ahnung getrieben, wie wir eigentlich im Leben so drinnenstehen, daß das Aufsuchen von Zusammenhängen des Folgenden mit dem Vorhergehenden eine recht einseitige Art ist, das Leben anzusehen. Wenn wir uns wirklich solche Frage stellen, dann wird wiederum etwas in unserem Geist angeregt, was sonst unangeregt bliebe. Wir kommen dazu, gleichsam zwischen den Zeilen des Lebens zu beobachten; wir kommen dazu, das Leben in seiner Vieldeutigkeit kennenzulernen. Wir kommen schon dann dazu, gewissermaßen uns in der Umgebung drinnen zu sehen, wie sie uns formt, wie sie uns Stück für Stück im Leben vorwärtsbringt. Das beachten wir ja für gewöhnlich viel zu wenig. Wir beachten meistens nur, welche inneren Triebkräfte uns von Stufe zu Stufe leiten. Nehmen Sie irgendein einfaches, gewöhnliches Beispiel, an dem Sie ersehen können, wie Sie das Äußere nur in sehr fragmentarischer Weise mit Ihrem Inneren in Zusammenhang, in ein Verhältnis bringen.

Versuchen Sie einmal den Blick zu werfen auf die Art, wie Sie Ihr Aufstehen am Morgen vorzustellen gewohnt sind. Sie werden zumeist, wenn Sie sich das klarzumachen versuchen, eine sehr eindeutige Idee davon bekommen: die Idee, wie Sie getrieben werden, aufzustehen, aber vielleicht auch noch dies sich recht nebulos vorstellen. Aber versuchen Sie nur einmal, ein paar Tage lang über den Gedanken nachzudenken, der Sie eigentlich jeweils aus dem Bette treibt; versuchen Sie sich völlig klarzumachen, welcher einzelne Gedanke Sie konkret aus dem Bette treibt, also sich klarzumachen: Gestern bist du deshalb aufgestanden, weil du gehört hast, daß im Nebenzimmer der Kaffee bereitet worden ist; das hat dich aufmerksam gemacht, das hat bewirkt, daß du dich gedrängt fühltest, aufzustehen; heute passierte dir etwas anderes. Ich meine, machen Sie sich konkret klar, nicht was Sie aus dem Bette getrieben hat, sondern was das treibende Außen war. Der Mensch vergißt gewöhnlich, sich in der Außenwelt zu suchen, daher findet er so wenig sich in der Außenwelt. Wer nur ein wenig auf so etwas achtet, der wird wieder leicht jene Stimmung entwickeln, vor der die Menschen heute geradezu eine heilige, nein, eine «unheilige» Scheu haben, jene Stimmung, die darin besteht, daß man wenigstens einen Untergedanken bei dem ganzen Leben hat, den man eigentlich im gewöhnlichen Leben nicht hat. Es bringt sich zum Beispiel der Mensch in ein Zimmer hinein, er bringt sich an irgendeinen Ort, aber er denkt wenig daran: Wie verändert sich der Ort, wenn er hineintritt? — Andere Menschen haben zuweilen davon eine Anschauung, aber selbst diese Anschauung von außen ist heute nicht sehr verbreitet. Ich weiß nicht, wie viele Menschen eine Empfindung dafür haben: Wenn eine Gesellschaft in einem Raume ist, dann ist der eine Mensch oftmals doppelt so stark da wie der andere; der eine ist stark da, der andere schwach. - Das ist etwas, was von den Imponderabilien abhängt. Sie können leicht die Erfahrung machen: Ein Mensch ist in einer Gesellschaft, er huscht hinein, er huscht wieder hinaus, und man hat das Gefühl, als ob es ein Engel gewesen ist, der herein- und heraushuschte. Mancher dagegen ist so stark da, daß er nicht nur mit seinen beiden sichtbaren Beinen da ist, sondern mit allerlei unsichtbaren Beinen - wenn man so sagen darf — auch da ist. Die andern beachten es in der Regel sehr wenig, obwohl es für sie sehr wahrnehmbar sein kann, aber der Mensch selber beachtet es von sich aus schon gar nicht. Der Mensch hat gewöhnlich nicht jenen -Unterton, den man haben kann von der Veränderung, die man durch seine Anwesenheit in der Umgebung hervorruft; man bleibt bei sich, man fragt nicht bei der Umgebung an, was man da für eine Veränderung hervorbringt. Aber die Ahnung, das Echo seines Daseins in der Umgebung wahrzunehmen, kann man sich anerziehen. Und denken Sie nur, wie das äußere Leben an Intimität gewinnen würde, wenn so etwas systematischer anerzogen würde, wenn die Menschen nicht bloß die Orte mit ihrer Anwesenheit bevölkern würden, sondern ein Gefühl dafür haben würden, was das ausmacht, daß sie an einem Orte sind, sich dort geltend machen, daß sie eine Veränderung dadurch hervorrufen, daß sie an diesem Orte sind.

Das ist nur ein Beispiel. Solche Beispiele könnte man für alle möglichen Lagen des Lebens anführen. Mit andern Worten, man kann auf ganz gesunde Weise — nicht dadurch, daß man sich fortwährend selber auf die Füße tritt, sondern auf ganz gesunde Weise — das Medium des Lebens verdichten, so daß man fühlt, was man selber für einen Einschnitt im Leben macht. Dadurch lernt man den Anfang desjenigen kennen, was Karmaempfindung, was Schicksalsempfindung ist. Denn wenn man vollständig empfinden würde, was dadurch geschieht, daß man dies oder jenes tut, daß man da oder dort ist, wenn man gewissermaßen immer das Bild vor sich hätte, das man in der Umgebung mit seinem 'Tun, mit seinem Sein hervorbringt, dann hätte man ein deutliches Gefühl seines Karma vor sich, denn Karma ist aus diesem Miterlebten gewoben. |

Jetzt aber will ich nur darauf hinweisen, wie das Leben durch die Einfügung solcher Intimitäten reicher wird, wenn wir so zwischen den Zeilen des Lebens beobachten, wenn wir so auf das Leben hinzuschauen lernen, daß wir gewissermaßen darauf aufmerksam werden, daß wir da sind, wenn wir mit «Gewissen» da sind. Dann entwickeln wir durch solches Bewußtsein wiederum etwas von der gemeinsamen Sphäre mit den Toten. Und wenn wir in einem solchen Bewußtsein, das zu diesen zwei Säulen hinblicken darf, die ich jetzt charakterisiert habe: gewissenhaftes Verfolgen des Lebens, und Sparsamkeit, nicht Verschwendüngssucht in den Gedanken -, wenn wir eine solche innere Stimmung entwickeln, dann wird es von Erfolg, von dem für die Gegenwart und Zukunft notwendigen Erfolg begleitet sein, wenn wir uns in der geschilderten Weise den Toten nähern. Wenn wir dann Gedanken ausbilden, die wir anknüpfen an, jetzt nicht bloß gedankenmäßiges Zusammensein mit einem Verstorbenen, sondern an gefühlsmäßiges, interessevolles Zusammensein, wenn wir solche Gedanken an Lebenssituationen mit dem Toten weiterspinnen, Gedanken an das, wie wir mit ihm gelebt haben, so daß sich ein Gefühlston zwischen uns abgespielt hat, wenn wir so anknüpfen nicht an gleichgültiges Zusammensein, sondern an Momente, wo uns das interessiert hat, wie er dachte, lebte, handelte, und wo ihn interessiert hat, was wir in ihm anregten, so können wir solche Momente nützen, um gewissermaßen das Gespräch der Gedanken fortzusetzen. Und wenn man dann diesen Gedanken ruhen lassen kann, so daß man übergeht in eine Art Meditation, daß dieser Gedanke gewissermaßen dargebracht wird am Altar des inneren geistigen Lebens, dann kommt der Augenblick, wo wir gewissermaßen von dem Toten Antwort bekommen, wo er sich wieder mit uns verständigen kann. Wir brauchen nur die Brücke herzustellen von dem, was wir an dem Toten entwickeln, zu dem, wodurch er seinerseits wieder herüberkommen kann zu uns. Diesem Herüberkommen wird es aber besonders nützen, wenn wir imstande sind, wirklich in tiefster Seele ein Bild zu entwickeln von der Wesenheit des Toten. Das ist ja etwas, was der heutigen Zeit auch wirklich sehr ferne steht, weil - wie ich schon in früheren Betrachtungen gesagt habe — die Menschen sehr aneinander vorübergehen, oft im vertrautesten Lebenskreise zusammen sind und dann auseinandergehen, ohne daß sie sich kennen. Das Kennenlernen braucht ja nicht darauf zu beruhen, daß man sich analysiert. Wer sich von dem mit ihm Lebenden analysiert weiß, der fühlt sich, wenn er eine feiner veranlagte Seele ist, auch geprügelt. Also darauf kommt es nicht an, daß man sich analysiert. Die beste Kenntnis vom andern erlangt man, wenn das Herz zusammenstimmt; man braucht sich gar nicht irgendwie zu analysieren.

Ich bin davon ausgegangen, daß solche Pflege des Verhältnisses zu den sogenannten Toten in unserer Zeit ganz besonders notwendig ist, gerade weil wir nicht durch Willkür, sondern einfach durch die Evolution der Menschheit im Zeitalter des Materialismus leben, weil wir nicht imstande sind, bevor wir durch die Pforte des Todes gehen, alle unsere Anlagen an Gedanken, Gefühlen und Empfindungen auszubilden, auszugestalten. Weil noch etwas bleibt, wenn wir durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen sind, deshalb ist es notwendig, daß die Lebenden den Verkehr mit den Toten aufrechterhalten, damit das gewöhnliche Leben der Menschen bereichert werde durch diesen Verkehr mit den Toten. Wenn man doch nur den Menschen der Gegenwart dies ans Herz legen könnte, daß das Leben verarmen muß, wenn der Toten vergessen wird! Und richtiges Gedenken der Toten können doch nur diejenigen entwickeln, die irgendwie karmisch mit ihnen verbunden waren.

Wenn wir zu einem unmittelbaren Verkehr mit den Toten hinstreben, der sich so gestaltet wie der Verkehr zu den Lebenden - ich habe auch darüber gesprochen, daß die Dinge gewöhnlich deshalb als besonders schwierig empfunden werden, weil sie nicht bewußt sind; aber nicht alles, was wirklich ist, ist auch bewußt, und nicht alles, was [nicht bJewußt wird, ist deshalb unwirklich -, wenn wir den Verkehr mit den Toten in dieser Weise pflegen, dann ist er vorhanden, dann wirken die im Leben unausgebildeten Gedanken der Toten in dieses Leben herein. Es ist ja allerdings eine Zumutung an unsere Zeit, was damit gesagt wird. Jedoch sagt man so etwas, wenn man davon überzeugt ist durch die geistigen Tatsachen: daß unser soziales Leben, unser ethisches, unser religiöses Leben unendliche Bereicherung erfahren würden, wenn die Lebenden sich von den Toten beraten ließen. Heute ist man ja schon abgeneigt, zum Beraten den Menschen bis in ein gewisses Alter kommen zu lassen. Denken Sie nur einmal, daß man es heute für das einzig Richtige betrachtet, daß der Mensch so jung wie möglich in Stadt- und Staatsverrichtungen komme, weil er so jung wie möglich reif zu allem möglichen ist - auch nach seiner Ansicht heute. In Zeitaltern, in denen man bessere Kenntnis hatte von dem Wesen des Menschen, wartete man, bis die Menschen ein gewisses Alter hatten, um in diesem oder jenem Rate zu sein. Nun sollen gar die Menschen warten, bis die andern gestorben sind, um sich dann von ihnen beraten zu lassen! Dennoch müßte gerade unsere Zeit auf den Rat der Toten hinhorchen wollen. Heil wird erst entstehen können, wenn man in der angedeuteten Weise wird auf den Rat der Toten hinhorchen wollen. |

Geisteswissenschaft mutet schon einmal dem Menschen Energisches zu. Das muß verstanden werden, muß begriffen werden. Geisteswissenschaft verlangt nach einer gewissen Richtung hin, daß der Mensch wirklich nach Konsequenz und Klarheit trachtet. Und wir stehen heute vor der Notwendigkeit, nach Klarheit zu suchen innerhalb unserer katastrophalen Ereignisse, da dieses Suchen nach Klarheit das Allerwichtigste ist. Mehr als man glaubt, hängen solcheDinge, wie sie heute wieder besprochen worden sind, mit den großen Anforderungen unserer Zeit zusammen. Ich habe schon auch in diesem Winter hier darauf hingewiesen, wie ich versuchte, viele Jahre bevor diese Weltkatastrophe hereinbrach, in meinen Vortragszyklen über die europäischen Völkerseelen auf manches hinzudeuten, was im allgemeinen Menschheitszusammenhange heute zu finden ist. Wenn Sie jenen Zyklus über «Die Mission einzelner Volksseelen im Zusammenhange mit der germanisch-nordischen Mythologie», den ich einmal in Kristiania gehalten habe, zur Hand nehmen, werden Sie ein gewisses Verständnis gewinnen können für das, was sich in den heutigen Ereignissen abspielt. Es ist nicht zu spät, und es wird sich manches abspielen, wofür Sie auch noch Verständnis aus diesem Zyklus, selbst noch für die nächsten Jahre, werden gewinnen können.

So wie die Menschen auf der Erde heute zueinander stehen, sind ihre Verhältnisse nur für den wirklich durchdringbar, der die geistigen Impulse zu schauen vermag. Und die Zeit rückt immer mehr und mehr heran, wo es ein wenig nötig werden wird, daß die Menschen sich die Frage vorlegen: Wie verhält sich zum Beispiel das Empfinden ° und das Denken des Ostens zum Denken und Empfinden Europas, namentlich Mitteleuropas? Und wie verhält sich dieses wieder zum Denken des Westens, zum Denken Amerikas? Diese Frage sollte in allen möglichen Varianten vor die Menschenseele treten. Man sollte sich schon jetzt ein wenig fragen: Wie sieht der Orientale heute Europa an? Der Orientale, der auf Europa viel schaut, hat von ihm heute die Empfindung, daß das europäische Kulturleben sich in eine Sackgasse hineinführt, sich zu einem Abgrund geführt hat. Der Orientale hat heute das Gefühl, daß er nicht verlieren darf, was er aus seinen alten Zeiten sich an Spiritualität heraufgebracht hat, wenn er das übernimmt, was Europa ihm geben kann. Der Orientale verachtet nicht die europäischen Maschinen zum Beispiel, aber er sagt sich heute es sind dies eigene Worte eines berühmten Orientalen, was ich hiermit ausspreche: Wir wollen schon annehmen, was die Europäer an Maschinen und Werkzeugen geformt haben, aber wir wollen es in den Schuppen stellen, nicht in die Tempel und nicht in die heimatlichen Wohnungen, wie es die Europäer tun! - Der Orientale sagt, der Europäer hätte die Möglichkeit verloren, den Geist in der Natur zu schauen, die Schönheit in der Natur zu schauen. Indem der Orientale auf das schaut, was er allein sehen kann, wie der Europäer nur bei äußerlich Mechanischem, bei dem äußerlich Sinnlichen im Handeln und in der Betrachtung stehenbleiben will — denn das kann er ja nur sehen -, da glaubt der Orientale, daß er berufen sei, die alte Geistigkeit wieder aufzuwecken, die alte Geistigkeit der Erdenmenschheit zu retten. Der Orientale, der in konkreter Art von geistigen Wesenheiten spricht — Rabindranath Tagore hat es zum Beispiel vor kurzem getan -, sagt: Die Europäer haben in ihre Kultur diejenigen Impulse einbezogen, die nur dadurch einbezogen werden können, daß sie vor ihren Kulturwagen den Satan gespannt haben; sie benutzen die Kraft des Satans, um vorwärtszukommen. Der Orientale ist dazu berufen — meint Rabindranath Tagore -, diesen Satan wieder auszuschalten und "Spiritualität über Europa zu bringen.

Da liegt schon ein Phänomen vor, an dem leider heute zu stark vorübergegangen wird. Wir haben mancherlei erlebt - darüber will ich nächstens reden -, aber wir haben zum Beispiel innerhalb unserer Entwickelung vieles außer acht gelassen, was wir in diese Entwickelung hereingebracht hätten, wenn wir zum Beispiel spirituelle Substanz, wie sie von Goethe kommt - ich will nur diesen einen Namen nennen -, wirklich lebendig in unserer Kulturentwickelung hätten. Nun kann jemand sagen: Der Orientale kann heute nach Europa schauen und kann dann wissen: in diesem europäischen Leben lebt Goethe. - Er kann es wissen. Sieht er es? Man kann sagen, die Deutschen haben ja zum Beispiel eine Gesellschaft gegründet, die «GoetheGesellschaft», ich meine nicht den «Goethe-Verein». Und nehmen wir an, der Orientale wollte sie kennenlernen — die große Frage des Orients und des Okzidents ist schon ins Rollen gekommen, sie hängt doch zuletzt von geistigen Impulsen ab -, er wollte sich über die Goethe-Gesellschaft unterrichten und die Realität ins Auge fassen. Dann würde er sich sagen: Goethe hat so stark gewirkt, daß sich sogar in den Achtzigerjahren des 19. Jahrhunderts die Möglichkeit geboten hat, in einer seltenen Weise Goethe für die deutsche Kultur fruchtbar zu machen, sozusagen ein günstiger Umstand, wie er sich dadurch geboten hat, daß eine Fürstin mit ihrer ganzen Umgebung sich gefunden hat, wie es die Großherzogin Sophie von Sachsen-Weimar war, die den Nachlaß Goethes in den Achtzigerjahren des 19. Jahrhunderts hergenommen hat, um diesen Nachlaß zu pflegen, wie noch nie einer gepflegt worden ist. Das ist da. Aber betrachten wir als äußeres Instrument die Goethe-Gesellschaft. Sie ist auch da. Nun war vor einigen Jahren wieder einmal der Posten des Präsidenten dieser Goethe-Gesellschaft vakant. Innerhalb der ganzen Weiten des Geisteslebens fand sich nur ein ehemaliger Finanzminister, den man zum Präsidenten der Goethe-Gesellschaft gemacht hat! Das ist das, was äußerlich gesehen wird. Solche Dinge sind schon wichtiger, als man eigentlich denkt. Was notwendiger wäre, das ist, daß zum Beispiel der für Spiritualität entflammte und für Spiritualität verständige Orientale in die Möglichkeit käme, zu wissen, daß innerhalb der europäischen Kultur so etwas doch auch da ist wie eine anthroposophisch orientierte Geisteswissenschaft. Doch das kann er ja nicht wissen. Das kann nicht an ihn heran, weil es nicht durch kann durch das, was sonst da ist - natürlich nicht nur in der einen Erscheinung. Es ist nur symptomatisch, was dadurch da ist, daß der Präsident der Goethe-Gesellschaft ein ehemaliger Finanzminister ist und so weiter. Ich brauchte nicht aufzuhören mit solchen Beispielen.

Das ist nun, ich möchte sagen, eine dritte Forderung: durchgreifendes, mit der Wirklichkeit verbundenes Denken, ein Denken, mit dem man nicht stehenbleibt bei Unklarheiten, bei unklaren Lebenskompromissen. Bei meiner letzten Reise hat mir jemand über ein Faktum, das mir bereits schon gut bekannt war, etwas in die Hand gedrückt. Ich will Ihnen von der Sache nur den einen kurzen Auszug hier geben: «Wer jemals die Bänke eines Gymnasiums gedrückt hat, dem werden die Stunden unvergeßlich sein, da er im Plato die Gespräche zwischen Sokrates und seinen Freunden «genoß» — unvergeßlich wegen der fabelhaften Langenweile, die diesen Gesprächen entströmt. Und man erinnert sich vielleicht, daß man die Gespräche des Sokrates eigentlich herzhaft dumm fand; aber man wagte natürlich nicht, diese Ansicht zu äußern, denn schließlich war der Mann, um den es sich handelte, ja Sokrates, der «griechische Philosoph». Mit dieser ganz ungerechtfertigten Überschätzung des braven Atheners räumt das Buch «Sokrates — der Idiot» von Alexander Moszkowski (Verlag Dr. Eysler & Co., Berlin) gehörig auf. Der Polyhistoriker Moszkowski unternimmt in dem kleinen, unterhaltend geschriebenen Werk nichts Geringeres, als Sokrates seiner Philosophenwürde so ziemlich vollständig zu entkleiden. Der Titel «Sokrates — der Idiot» ist wörtlich gemeint. Man wird nicht fehlgehen in der Annahme, daß sich an das Buch noch wissenschaftliche Auseinandersetzungen knüpfen werden.»

Das nächste, wozu der Mensch mit seinem Empfinden kommt, wenn er von so etwas Kenntnis nimmt, das ist, daß er sich sagt: Was ist das für etwas Merkwürdiges, daß jemand kommt wie der Alexander Moszkowski und den Beweis liefern will, daß Sokrates ein Idiot war? Das ist das Nächstliegende, was die Leute empfinden. Aber das ist eine Kompromißempfindung, die nicht herrührt von einem klaren, durchgreifenden Denken, die nicht herrührt von einem Sich-Gegenüberstellen der wahren Wirklichkeit.

Damit möchte ich noch ein anderes vergleichen. Es gibt heute schon Bücher, die vom psychiatrischen Standpunkte aus geschrieben sind über das Leben Jesu. Darin wird das, was Jesus alles getan hat, vom Standpunkte der heutigen Psychiatrie aus untersucht und mit allerlei krankhaften Handlungen verglichen, und es wird dann vom modernen Psychiater bewiesen aus den Evangelien, daß Jesus ein krankhafter Mensch, ein Epileptiker gewesen sein muß, daß ja die ganzen Evangelien überhaupt nur vom Paulinischen Standpunkte aus zu verstehen sind und so weiter. Ausführliche Berichte gibt es über diese Sache.

Es ist wieder sehr einfach, nun leichten Herzens über diese Dinge hinwegzugehen. Aber die Sache liegt etwas tiefer. Stehen Sie vollständig auf dem Standpunkte der heutigen Psychiatrie, geben Sie diesen Standpunkt der heutigen Psychiatrie so, wie er offiziell anerkannt ist, zu, dann müssen Sie, wenn Sie über das Leben Jesu nachdenken, zu demselben Resultat kommen wie die Verfasser dieser Bücher. Sie können nicht anders denken, denn sonst wären Sie unwahr, sonst wären Sie nicht im wahren Sinn des Wortes moderner Psychiater. Und Sie sind nicht im wahren Sinne des Wortes moderner Psychiater im Sinne der Anschauung Alexander Moszkowskis, wenn Sie nicht denken, daß Sokrates ein Idiot war. Und Moszkowski unterscheidet sich von denen, die auch Anhänger dieser Theorien sind und Sokrates für keinen Idioten halten, nur dadurch, daß die letzteren unwahr sind — und er ist wahr; er geht keinen Kompromiß ein. Denn es gibt keine Möglichkeit, wahr zu sein, auf dem Standpunkte der Weltanschauung Alexander Moszkowskis zu stehen und Sokrates nicht als einen Idioten anzuschauen. Will man beides, will man zugleich Anhänger der modernen naturwissenschaftlichen Weltanschauung sein und dennoch Sokrates gelten lassen, ohne ihn als einen Idioten anzuschauen, so ist man unwahr. Ebenso ist man unwahr, wenn man moderner Psychiater ist und das Leben Jesu gelten läßt. Aber der moderne Mensch will nicht bis zu diesem klaren Standpunkt kommen; denn sonst müßte er sich die Frage ganz anders stellen. Sagen müßte er sich dann: Nun wohl, ich betrachte Sokrates nicht als einen Idioten, ich lerne ihn besser kennen, aber das fordert von mir auch die Ablehnung einer Weltanschauung, wie es diejenige des Moszkowski ist; und ich sehe in Jesu den größten Träger von Ideen, der jemals mit dem Erdenleben in Berührung gekommen ist; das aber erfordert, daß ich die moderne Psychiatrie ablehne, sie nicht gelten lassen darf!

Das ist es, worum es sich handelt: wirklichkeitsgemäßes, klares Denken, das nicht die gewöhnlichen faulen Kompromisse schließt, die ja im Leben da sind, die aber aus dem Leben nur entfernt werden können, wenn man sie in Wahrheit erfassen kann. Es ist leicht, zu denken oder entrüstet zu sein, wenn man den Beweis anerkennen soll, daß nach Moszkowski Sokrates ein Idiot ist. Aber richtig ist es, wenn man die Konsequenzen der modernen Weltanschauung zieht, daß sie von ihrem Standpunkte aus in Sokrates einen Idioten sieht. Aber solche Konsequenzen wollen die Leute nicht ziehen: so etwas wie die moderne Weltanschauung ablehnen. Denn sie könnten sonst in eine noch unangenehmere Lage kommen: Man müßte dann Kompromisse machen und sich vielleicht darüber klar sein, daß Sokrates kein Idiot ist; aber wenn man dann vielleicht darauf käme, daß -— Moszkowski ein Idiot ist? Er ist ja nun kein mächtiger Mann, aber wenn es nun mächtigere Leute sind, so könnte allerlei und viel Schlimmeres passieren!

Ja, um in die geistige Welt einzudringen, ist wirklichkeitsgemäßes ‚Denken nötig. Das erfordert auf der andern Seite, sich klar vor Augen zu stellen, wie die Dinge sind. Gedanken sind Wirklichkeiten, und unwahre Gedanken sind böse, hemmende, zerstörende Wirklichkeiten. Es hilft nichts, wenn man sich einen Nebel darüber breitet, daß man selber unwahr ist, indem man neben der Weltanschauung des Moszkowski auch die Weltanschauung des Sokrates gelten lassen will. Denn das ist ein unwahrer Gedanke, wenn man beides nebeneinander in seiner Seele postiert, wie es der moderne Mensch tut. Wahr wird man nur, wenn man sich vor Augen führt, daß man entweder auf dem Standpunkt des reinen naturwissenschaftlichen Mechanismus steht wie Moszkowski, daß man dann Sokrates als einen Idioten anzuschauen hat; dann ist man wahr. Oder aber man weiß aus anderem, daß Sokrates kein Idiot war; dann hat man nötig, sich darüber Klarheit zu verschaffen, wie stark das andere abgelehnt werden muß. Wahrsein ist ein Ideal, das die Seele des heutigen Menschen vor sich hinstellen sollte. Denn Gedanken sind Wirklichkeiten. Und wahre Gedanken sind heilsame Wirklichkeiten. Und unwahre Gedanken, auch wenn sie noch so sehr mit dem Mantel der Nachsicht gegen das eigene Wesen zugedeckt werden, unwahre Gedanken, im Inneren des Menschen gefaßt, sind Wirklichkeiten, welche die Welt und die Menschheit zurückbringen.

Fourth Lecture

In one of the last reflections we shared here, I spoke about the relationship that human souls embodied here in the body can have, or actually always have, with disembodied human souls, with the so-called dead. Today I would like to follow up on these reflections with a few other remarks.

We know from various sources, from what spiritual science has revealed to our souls, that the human spirit also undergoes development in the course of the Earth's evolution. We also know that human beings can only recognize themselves by asking themselves the fruitful question: How does the human being in a particular incarnation, in the incarnation in which he or she currently finds himself or herself, relate to the spiritual worlds, to the spiritual realms? What stage of development has humanity as a whole reached when we ourselves are living in a particular incarnation?

We know how a more detailed consideration of this overall development of humanity leads us to the insight that in earlier times, in earlier epochs of human development, a certain, what we have called atavistic clairvoyance was poured out over humanity, that in earlier epochs of human development the human soul was, in a sense, closer to the spiritual worlds. While it was closer to the spiritual worlds at that time, it was further away from its own freedom, its own free will, to which it is closer again in our time, when it is generally more cut off from the spiritual worlds. If one truly recognizes the nature of the human being in the present, one must say that in the unconscious, in the actual spirit of the human being, the same relationship to the entire spiritual world naturally exists. But in knowledge, in consciousness, human beings today cannot generally realize this relationship in the same way; certain individuals can, but in general human beings cannot realize it as they were able to in earlier epochs. If we ask why human beings today cannot bring to consciousness the relationship of their soul to the spiritual world, which of course exists as strongly as ever, albeit in a different form, this is because we have already passed the midpoint of Earth's development and are, so to speak, in the descending stream of Earth's evolution. that with our physical organization—even if this is not noticeable in our external anatomy and physiology—we have become more physical than we were in the past, and that during the time between birth or conception and death we no longer have the organization to bring our connection with the spiritual world fully into our consciousness. We must be very clear that what we experience today in the subconscious regions of the soul, no matter how materialistic we may be, is much more than what we are generally aware of.

But it goes even further. And here I come to a very important point in the present development of humanity. It goes so far that human beings today are generally not able to really think through, feel through, and experience everything that could actually be thought, felt, and experienced within them. Human beings today are predisposed to much more intense thoughts, feelings, and sensations than they can have due to, I would say, the coarse materiality of their organism. This has a certain consequence, namely that in the present stage of human development we are not able to complete the full development of our faculties in our earthly life. Whether we die young or old has little influence on this. For those who die young or old, it is true that human beings today, due to the gross materiality of their organism, cannot fully live out what they would live out if they were organized in a more refined, more intimate way in relation to their body. And so, whether we pass through the gates of death young or old, as I have said, a certain residue of unprocessed thoughts, unprocessed sensations, and feelings remains during our earthly organization, which we cannot really process for the reason I have given. Today, we all die, in a sense, leaving thoughts, feelings, and sensations unprocessed. These thoughts, feelings, and sensations—and I must emphasize again and again that it makes no difference whether we die young or old, it amounts to the same thing—are left unprocessed, and when we have passed through the gate of death, we all still have the urge to continue thinking, feeling, and sensing in the earthly realm.

Let us consider the implications of this. After death, we become free to develop certain thoughts, feelings, and sensations for the first time. We would accomplish much more on earth if we could live out these thoughts, feelings, and sensations fully during our physical life. We cannot do this. In fact, every human being today could accomplish much more on earth than he actually does, according to the measure of his abilities. This was not the case in earlier epochs of human development, when organisms were more refined and a certain conscious insight into the spiritual world existed and people could work out of the spirit. At that time, people generally achieved everything they were capable of according to their predispositions. Even though people today are so proud of their predispositions, the situation is still as described.

Since this is the case, however, we can also recognize the necessity for the present time that what the dead carry unprocessed through the gate of death should not be lost for earthly life. This can only be the case if we truly cultivate and maintain the connection with the dead in the sense mentioned above, following the guidance of spiritual science, if we strive to make the connection with the dead with whom we are karmically connected a conscious, a fully conscious one. Then the unlived thoughts of the dead are channeled through our souls into the world, and through this channeling, these stronger thoughts—these thoughts that the dead can have because they are freed from the body—can then work in our souls. We cannot bring our own thoughts to full development either, but these thoughts can work.

We see from this that what materialism has brought us should at the same time make us aware of how necessary, how absolutely necessary, it is for the present and the near future to seek a concrete, real relationship with the spirits of the dead. The only question is: How can we allow the thoughts, sensations, and feelings that want to enter from the realm where the dead are to enter our souls in the appropriate way? We have already indicated some points of view on this, and in a recent reflection I spoke here of the important moments that human beings should pay attention to: the moment of falling asleep and the moment of waking up. Today I would like to characterize some of the related aspects in more detail.

The dead cannot immediately enter this world in which we live our ordinary waking lives, which we perceive from the outside and in which we act through our will, which is based on our instincts. Having passed through the gate of death, they are removed from this world. But we can still have a world in common with the dead if, inspired by spiritual science, we make the attempt—which is, of course, a difficult attempt in our present materialistic age—to discipline both the inner world of our thinking and the world of our life, and not let them run free as we are accustomed to doing.

We can develop certain abilities that give us common ground with the spirits who have passed through the gate of death. We can develop certain abilities that will give us common ground with the spirits who have passed through the gate of death. Of course, there are an extraordinary number of obstacles in general life at present that prevent us from finding this common ground. The first obstacle is one that I have perhaps touched on even less. But what needs to be said about it is already clear from other considerations that have also been made here. The first obstacle is that we are generally too wasteful with our thoughts in our lives. Today, in our present, we are all wasteful in our thought life; I could also say that we are extravagant in our thought life. — What is actually meant by this?

People today live almost entirely under the impression that thoughts are free. This means that one should let almost everything that wants to pass through one's thoughts pass through. Just consider that speech is a reflection of our thought life, and consider what kind of thought life the speech of most people today reveals when they chatter away, wandering from topic to topic, letting their thoughts run wild, that is, wasting the power we have been given to think! And we are constantly wasting it; we are completely dissolute in our mental life. We allow ourselves to have any thoughts we like. We want something that just occurs to us, or we refrain from doing something by inserting another thought. In short, we are averse to controlling our thoughts in any way. How unpleasant it is, for example, when someone starts talking; you listen to them for a minute or two, but then they are on a completely different subject. Now you feel the need to continue talking about what you started talking about. This may be important. You then have to draw attention to what you were talking about. This happens all the time today, so that if you really want to take life seriously, you have to remind yourself of the conversation you started. This waste of mental energy, this digression of the mind, prevents those thoughts from rising up from the depths of our soul that are not our own, but which we have in common with the spiritual, with the universal spirit. This pushing from one thought to another in any arbitrary way prevents us from waiting in the waking state until thoughts rise up from the depths of our soul life, prevents us from waiting for inspiration, if I may express it that way. But this is something that — especially in our age, for the reasons indicated — should be cultivated, cultivated in such a way that we really develop in our souls the mood that consists in being able to wait awake until thoughts rise up, as it were, from the deep underground of the soul, clearly announcing themselves as what is given to us, what we have not made.

One should not believe that the development of such a mood can happen quickly. It cannot. Something like this must be cultivated. But if it is cultivated, if we really strive to simply be awake, and not, when we exclude involuntary thoughts, to fall asleep immediately, but simply to be awake and wait for what is given to us, then this mood gradually develops. Then the possibility develops within us to receive thoughts into our soul that come from the depths of the soul and thus come from a world that is wider than our egoity. If we really develop this, we will already perceive that what exists in the world is not merely what we see with our eyes, hear with our ears, perceive with our outer senses, and how our mind combines these perceptions, but that there is an objective web of thoughts in the world. Very few people today have this as their own experience. This experience of the general web of thoughts in which the soul actually exists is not yet some kind of significant, occult experience; it is something that every human being can have if they develop the mood indicated above within themselves. They can then have the experience of saying to themselves: In everyday life, I stand in the world that I perceive through my senses and have combined with my mind. But then I find myself in a situation as if I were standing on the shore and diving into the sea, where I float in the undulating water. In the same way, standing on the shore of sensory existence, I can dive into the undulating sea of thoughts; there I am then really as if I were inside a undulating sea. — One can then have the feeling that one senses at least a life that is stronger and more intense than mere dream life, but which nevertheless has such a boundary between itself and external sensory reality as dream life has for sensory reality.

If you want, you can talk about such experiences as dreams. But it is not dreaming! For the world into which you immerse yourself, this world of surging thoughts, which are not your thoughts but the thoughts into which you have immersed yourself, is the world from which our physical-sensory world rises, condensed, as it were. Our physical-sensory world is like blocks of ice, ice cubes in water: the water is there, the ice cubes harden and float in it. Just as ice consists of the substance of water, only in a different state of aggregation, so our physical-sensory world rises from this surging, undulating sea of thoughts. That is the real origin. Physics speaks only of its “ether,” of swirling atoms, because it does not know what the real primordial substance is. Shakespeare was closer to this real primordial substance when he had one of his characters say: The world of reality is woven from dreams. People are only too happy to delude themselves about such things. They want to find a crude, atomistic world behind physical reality. But if one wants to speak of such a “behind physical reality” at all, one must speak of the objective web of thoughts, of the objective world of thoughts. But you can only get there if you stop wasting your thoughts and develop that mood that comes when you can wait for what is popularly called inspiration.

For those who are into spiritual science, it's not that hard to develop this mood I'm talking about. For the kind of thinking that must be developed when pursuing anthroposophically oriented spiritual science guides the soul to develop such a mood. And if one seriously pursues this spiritual science, one feels the need to develop such intimate thought-weaving within oneself. This web of thoughts, however, offers us a common sphere in which we are on one side and the so-called dead are on the other. This is the common ground where one can meet the dead. The dead do not enter the world that we perceive with our senses and combine with our intellect, but they do enter the world that I have just described.

A second example is given in what I discussed last year: in the observation of subtle, intimate connections in life. You will remember that, to illustrate what I actually mean, I referred to an example that can be found in psychological literature. Schubert also draws attention to this; it is from older literature, but such examples can be found again and again in life. — A man is accustomed to taking a certain walk every day. One day, when he is taking his walk again, he arrives at a certain point along the way and has the feeling that he must stop, step aside, and the thought occurs to him whether it is really right to spend his time on this walk. At that moment, a stone falls onto the path, which has broken away from the rock and would certainly have hit him if he had not been prompted by his thoughts to step aside.

This is a crude experience that anyone who has had something similar happen to them in life will be aware of. But such experiences, even if they are more subtle, intrude into our everyday lives on a daily basis. We do not usually pay attention to them. We only reckon with what happens in life, not with what could have happened but did not happen because something else happened that prevented us from doing this or that. We expect what happens when we are delayed at home for fifteen minutes and now have to do something a quarter of an hour later than we intended. Often, very strange things would come to light if we were to think about what would actually have been different if we had not been delayed and had left home a quarter of an hour earlier.

Try to systematically observe something like this in your life, what would have been different if, at the last moment when you were about to leave, someone you were perhaps very angry with had come along and delayed you for a few minutes. Everything that could have been different constantly intrudes into human life according to its predisposition. We look for a causal connection between what really happens in life. We do not think of going through life with the subtlety that would lie in the assumption of an interruption of predisposed chains of events, so that, I would say, an atmosphere of possibilities is constantly poured out over our lives.

If we take this into account, then we actually always have the feeling, when we do something at twelve noon after having been delayed for ten minutes in the morning, that What we do at noon is often — though it may also be otherwise — influenced not only by the events that preceded it, but also by the countless things that did not happen, that we were prevented from doing. By thinking of the possible, not just the external, sensory reality, in connection with our lives, we are driven to the realization that we are actually so immersed in life that seeking connections between what follows and what precedes is a rather one-sided way of looking at life. When we really ask ourselves such questions, something is stimulated in our minds that would otherwise remain unstimulated. We begin, as it were, to observe between the lines of life; we begin to get to know life in its ambiguity. We begin to see ourselves, as it were, within our environment, how it shapes us, how it advances us step by step in life. We usually pay far too little attention to this. We mostly only notice the inner driving forces that guide us from stage to stage. Take any simple, ordinary example where you can see how you relate your outer world to your inner world in a very fragmentary way.

Try to take a look at the way you are used to imagining yourself getting up in the morning. When you try to clarify this for yourself, you will usually get a very clear idea of how you are driven to get up, but perhaps you will also find this idea quite nebulous. But just try for a few days to think about the thought that actually drives you out of bed; try to make it completely clear to yourself what single thought specifically drives you out of bed, i.e., to make it clear to yourself: Yesterday you got up because you heard coffee being made in the next room; that caught your attention and made you feel compelled to get up; today something else happened to you. I mean, try to figure out specifically what drove you out of bed, not what the external factor was. People usually forget to look for themselves in the outside world, which is why they find so little of themselves there. Anyone who pays just a little attention to this will easily develop that mood which people today have an almost sacred, no, an “unholy” fear of, that mood which consists in having at least one underlying thought in one's whole life, which one does not actually have in ordinary life. For example, a person enters a room, he places himself in a certain place, but he thinks little about how the place changes when he enters it. Other people sometimes have an idea of this, but even this idea from the outside is not very widespread today. I do not know how many people have a feeling for this: When a group of people is in a room, one person is often twice as strong as another; one is strongly present, the other weakly. This is something that depends on imponderables. You can easily experience this: a person is in a group, they dart in, they dart out again, and you have the feeling that it was an angel who darted in and out. Some, on the other hand, are so strong that they are not only there with their two visible legs, but also with all kinds of invisible legs, if you may say so. The others usually pay very little attention to this, although it may be very noticeable to them, but the person himself does not notice it at all. People do not usually have that undertone that one can have from the change one causes by one's presence in one's surroundings; one remains with oneself, one does not ask one's surroundings what kind of change one is causing there. But one can train oneself to perceive the echo of one's existence in one's surroundings. And just think how much more intimate external life would become if this were taught more systematically, if people did not merely populate places with their presence, but had a sense of what it means to be in a place, to assert themselves there, to cause a change by being there.

This is just one example. Such examples could be cited for all possible situations in life. In other words, one can in a very healthy way—not by constantly stepping on one's own toes, but in a very healthy way—condense the medium of life so that one feels what one oneself is doing to make an impact on life. In this way, one learns the beginning of what karma perception, what fate perception is. For if one were to feel completely what happens as a result of doing this or that, of being here or there, if one always had before one, as it were, the picture that one creates in one's surroundings through one's actions, through one's being, then one would have a clear sense of one's karma, for karma is woven from these shared experiences. |

But now I just want to point out how life is enriched by the inclusion of such intimacies when we observe between the lines of life, when we learn to look at life in such a way that we become aware, as it were, that we are there when we are there with our “conscience.” Then, through such consciousness, we develop something of the common sphere with the dead. And if we develop such an awareness, which allows us to look toward these two pillars that I have now characterized: conscientious pursuit of life and thriftiness, not wastefulness in our thoughts—if we develop such an inner attitude, then it will be accompanied by success, the success necessary for the present and the future, when we approach the dead in the manner described. If we then develop thoughts that we link not merely to a mental togetherness with a deceased person, but to an emotional, interested togetherness, if we spin out such thoughts about life situations with the deceased, thoughts about how we lived with him, so that a feeling tone has developed between us, if we connect not with indifferent togetherness, but with moments when we were interested in how they thought, lived, acted, and when they were interested in what we inspired in them, then we can use such moments to continue the conversation of thoughts, so to speak. And when we can let these thoughts rest, so that we enter into a kind of meditation, so that these thoughts are offered up, as it were, on the altar of our inner spiritual life, then the moment comes when we receive an answer from the dead, when they can communicate with us again. We only need to build a bridge between what we develop in the dead and what enables them, in turn, to come back to us. However, this coming back will be particularly beneficial if we are able to develop a picture of the essence of the dead in the depths of our souls. This is something that is really very distant from our time because, as I have already said in earlier reflections, people pass each other by, often living together in the most intimate circles and then going their separate ways without really knowing each other. Getting to know someone does not have to be based on analyzing them. Anyone who analyzes those with whom they live, if they are a sensitive soul, will feel hurt. So it is not important to analyze each other. The best way to get to know someone is when your hearts are in harmony; there is no need to analyze each other in any way.

I have assumed that such care for our relationship with the so-called dead is particularly necessary in our time, precisely because we do not live by chance, but simply by the evolution of humanity in the age of materialism, because we are not able, before we pass through the gate of death, to develop and shape all our predispositions in thoughts, feelings, and sensations. Because something remains when we have passed through the gate of death, it is necessary for the living to maintain contact with the dead, so that the ordinary life of human beings may be enriched by this contact with the dead. If only we could impress upon the people of today that life must become impoverished when the dead are forgotten! And only those who were somehow karmically connected to the dead can develop a proper remembrance of them.

If we strive for direct communication with the dead, which takes the same form as communication with the living—I have also spoken about the fact that things are usually perceived as particularly difficult because they are not conscious; but not everything that is real is conscious, and not everything that is not conscious is therefore unreal—if we cultivate communication with the dead in this way, then it exists, then the thoughts of the dead that were undeveloped in life have an effect on this life. What is being said here is certainly an imposition on our time. However, one says such things when one is convinced by spiritual facts: that our social life, our ethical life, our religious life would be infinitely enriched if the living sought advice from the dead. Today, people are already reluctant to let people reach a certain age before seeking advice. Just think how today it is considered the only right thing for people to enter city and state affairs as young as possible, because they are mature for everything possible at that age – at least according to today's view. In ages when people had a better understanding of human nature, they waited until people had reached a certain age before allowing them to participate in this or that council. Now people are supposed to wait until others have died before seeking their advice! Yet it is precisely our time that should be listening to the advice of the dead. Salvation will only be possible when people are willing to listen to the advice of the dead in the manner indicated. |

Spiritual science demands a great deal of energy from people. This must be understood and grasped. Spiritual science requires a certain direction, that people truly strive for consistency and clarity. And today we are faced with the necessity of seeking clarity within our catastrophic events, because this search for clarity is the most important thing. More than one might think, such things as have been discussed again today are connected with the great demands of our time. I have already pointed out here this winter how, many years before this world catastrophe broke out, I tried in my lecture cycles on the souls of the European peoples to point to many things that can be found in the general context of humanity today. If you pick up the lecture series on “The Mission of Individual Folk Souls in Connection with Germanic-Nordic Mythology,” which I once gave in Kristiania, you will gain a certain understanding of what is happening in today's events. It is not too late, and many things will happen for which you will be able to gain understanding from this series, even in the coming years.

The way people on earth relate to one another today can only be truly understood by those who are able to see the spiritual impulses. And the time is drawing ever closer when it will become necessary for people to ask themselves: How, for example, do the feelings and thinking of the East relate to the thinking and feelings of Europe, particularly Central Europe? And how does this in turn relate to the thinking of the West, to the thinking of America? This question should be posed to the human soul in all its possible variations. We should already be asking ourselves: How does the Oriental view Europe today? The Oriental, who looks a lot at Europe, has the feeling today that European cultural life is leading itself into a dead end, has led itself to an abyss. The Oriental today has the feeling that he must not lose what he has built up in spirituality from his ancient times if he is to take on what Europe can give him. The Oriental does not despise European machines, for example, but he says to himself today—and these are the words of a famous Oriental that I am quoting here: “We are willing to accept what the Europeans have created in terms of machines and tools, but we want to put them in sheds, not in temples and not in our homes, as the Europeans do!” The Oriental says that Europeans have lost the ability to see the spirit in nature, to see the beauty in nature. By looking at what he alone can see, while Europeans want to remain focused on external mechanics, on the external sensual in action and observation — for that is all they can see — the Oriental believes that he is called upon to reawaken the ancient spirituality, to save the ancient spirituality of humanity on Earth. The Oriental, who speaks in concrete terms of spiritual beings — Rabindranath Tagore did so recently, for example — says: Europeans have incorporated into their culture those impulses that can only be incorporated by harnessing Satan to their cultural chariot; they use Satan's power to advance. The Oriental is called upon — says Rabindranath Tagore — to eliminate this Satan again and “bring spirituality to Europe.”

This is a phenomenon that is unfortunately overlooked too often today. We have experienced many things—I will talk about them later—but we have neglected many things in our development that we would have brought into this development if, for example, we had truly brought spiritual substance, as it comes from Goethe—I will mention only this one name—into our cultural development. Now someone might say: Orientals can look to Europe today and know that Goethe lives in this European life. They can know it. But do they see it? One could say that the Germans, for example, have founded a society called the “Goethe Society,” and I don't mean the “Goethe Association.” And let us assume that the Oriental wanted to get to know it — the great question of the Orient and the Occident has already been raised, and ultimately it depends on spiritual impulses — he wanted to learn about the Goethe Society and face reality. Then he would say to himself: Goethe had such a powerful influence that even in the 1880s there was a rare opportunity to make Goethe fruitful for German culture, a favorable circumstance, so to speak, which arose when a princess with her entire entourage came together, as was the case with Grand Duchess Sophie of Saxe-Weimar, who took on Goethe's estate in the 1880s in order to preserve it as no one had ever done before. That is a fact. But let us consider the Goethe Society as an external instrument. It also exists. A few years ago, the position of president of this Goethe Society became vacant once again. Within the whole expanse of intellectual life, only a former finance minister could be found to become president of the Goethe Society! That is what is seen externally. Such things are more important than one might think. What would be more necessary is for the Oriental, who is passionate about spirituality and understands spirituality, to have the opportunity to learn that something like an anthroposophically oriented spiritual science also exists within European culture. But he cannot know that. It cannot reach them because it cannot pass through what else is there – not only in this one manifestation, of course. It is only symptomatic that the president of the Goethe Society is a former finance minister and so on. I could go on with such examples.

This is now, I would say, a third requirement: thorough thinking connected with reality, thinking that does not stop at ambiguities, at unclear compromises in life. On my last trip, someone pressed something into my hand about a fact that I was already well aware of. I will give you just a short excerpt from it here: “Anyone who has ever sat on the benches of a high school will remember the hours spent ‘enjoying’ Plato's dialogues between Socrates and his friends — unforgettable because of the fabulous boredom that emanates from these conversations. And one may remember that one actually found Socrates' conversations heartily stupid; but of course one did not dare to express this opinion, because after all, the man in question was Socrates, the 'Greek philosopher'. The book “Socrates — the Idiot” by Alexander Moszkowski (Verlag Dr. Eysler & Co., Berlin) thoroughly dispels this completely unjustified overestimation of the good Athenian. In this small, entertaining work, the polymath Moszkowski undertakes nothing less than to strip Socrates of his philosophical dignity almost completely. The title “Socrates — the Idiot” is meant literally. It would not be wrong to assume that the book will be followed by scholarly debate.

The next thing that comes to mind when one learns of such a thing is to ask oneself: What is this strange thing that someone like Alexander Moszkowski comes along and wants to prove that Socrates was an idiot? That is the most obvious reaction. But this is a compromise feeling that does not stem from clear, thorough thinking, that does not stem from confronting the true reality.

I would like to compare this with something else. There are already books today that are written from a psychiatric point of view about the life of Jesus. In these books, everything Jesus did is examined from the standpoint of modern psychiatry and compared with all kinds of pathological behavior, and modern psychiatrists then prove from the Gospels that Jesus must have been a sick man, an epileptic, that the entire Gospels can only be understood from the Pauline standpoint, and so on. There are detailed reports on this matter.

It is again very easy to dismiss these things with a light heart. But the matter lies somewhat deeper. If you stand completely on the standpoint of modern psychiatry, if you accept this standpoint of modern psychiatry as it is officially recognized, then when you think about the life of Jesus, you must come to the same conclusion as the authors of these books. You cannot think otherwise, because otherwise you would be untruthful, otherwise you would not be modern psychiatrists in the true sense of the word. And you are not modern psychiatrists in the true sense of the word, in the sense of Alexander Moszkowski's view, if you do not think that Socrates was an idiot. And Moszkowski differs from those who also adhere to these theories and do not consider Socrates an idiot only in that the latter are untruthful—and he is truthful; he does not compromise. For there is no way to be truthful, to stand on the standpoint of Alexander Moszkowski's worldview, and not regard Socrates as an idiot. If one wants both, if one wants to be a follower of the modern scientific worldview and still accept Socrates without considering him an idiot, then one is untrue. Likewise, one is untrue if one is a modern psychiatrist and accepts the life of Jesus. But modern man does not want to arrive at this clear position, because otherwise he would have to ask himself the question in a completely different way. He would then have to say to himself: Well, I do not consider Socrates an idiot; I am getting to know him better, but that also requires me to reject a worldview such as that of Moszkowski; and I see in Jesus the greatest bearer of ideas who ever came into contact with earthly life; but that requires me to reject modern psychiatry, to refuse to accept it!

That is what it is all about: realistic, clear thinking that does not make the usual lazy compromises that exist in life but can only be removed from life if they can be grasped in truth. It is easy to think or be indignant when one has to acknowledge the proof that, according to Moszkowski, Socrates is an idiot. But it is correct to draw the consequences of the modern worldview, which, from its point of view, sees Socrates as an idiot. But people do not want to draw such consequences: to reject something like the modern worldview. For otherwise they might find themselves in an even more unpleasant situation: one would then have to make compromises and perhaps realize that Socrates is not an idiot; but then one might come to the conclusion that Moszkowski is an idiot? He is not a powerful man, but if there are more powerful people, then all sorts of things could happen, and much worse!

Yes, in order to penetrate the spiritual world, realistic thinking is necessary. On the other hand, this requires clearly seeing things as they are. Thoughts are realities, and untrue thoughts are evil, inhibiting, destructive realities. It does not help to spread a fog over the fact that one is oneself untrue by wanting to accept Socrates' worldview alongside Moszkowski's. For it is an untrue thought to place both side by side in one's soul, as modern man does. One only becomes true when one realizes that one either stands on the standpoint of pure scientific mechanism like Moszkowski, in which case one must regard Socrates as an idiot; then one is true. Or else one knows from other sources that Socrates was not an idiot; then one must clarify for oneself how strongly the other must be rejected. Truthfulness is an ideal that the soul of modern man should set before itself. For thoughts are realities. And true thoughts are salutary realities. And false thoughts, even if they are covered with the cloak of indulgence toward one's own nature, false thoughts conceived within man are realities that hold back the world and humanity.