Earth-Death and Universal-Life
Anthroposophical Life-Gifts
Essential Aspects of Consciousness for the Present and the FutureGA 181
29 January 1918, Berlin
Translated by Steiner Online Library
Earth-Death and Universal-Life II
[ 1 ] In the course of our reflections, attention has often been drawn to the maxim “Know thyself!”—which has shone through the ages and is inscribed on the Greek Temple of Apollo. This maxim contains much—indeed, an infinite amount—of the call to strive for human wisdom and, thereby, for worldly wisdom. However, the maxim has undergone a significant renewal and deepening through the impulse provided by the Mystery of Golgotha. We may yet have the opportunity, if circumstances permit, to speak of all these things in the course of this winter. We will endeavor to find the path leading precisely to the goals implied by this maxim.
[ 2 ] Today, I would like to begin with what appears to be an external observation of the human being—that is, in a sense, an external form of human self-knowledge—which, however, is only seemingly external, yet remains a primary and significant force when one makes use of it to penetrate the inner essence of the human being. I would like to begin—though in reality only seemingly so—with the external human form.
[ 3 ] Today, in what is recognized as science, one finds a consideration of this outer human form only in a sense that is quite unsatisfactory for a higher spiritual contemplation. It is fair to say that anyone who wishes to recognize the human being as a human being today finds little inspiration for such an understanding of humanity in science—at least in science as it is currently practiced. For what this science has already produced, what is currently available, you can see from the various hints in my latest book, *On the Mysteries of the Soul*. This book provides important, meaningful building blocks for a far-reaching understanding of the human being. But these building blocks are simply not being sought after at present. And what anatomy, physiology, and so on offer today provides very little to the inquirer who seriously wishes to penetrate the essence of the human being through an understanding of the outer physical form of the human being. In fact, what the artistic approach offers is far more substantial today. It is fair to say that science today leaves much unsatisfied. And if one can only resolve, in the spirit of Goethe, to seek real, substantial truth in art—namely, in the artistic contemplation of the world—then one might find more truth in this way today than in what is recognized as science. In the future, there will be a worldview that will emerge precisely from spiritual science, even if we cannot yet fully grasp this today. There will be a worldview that, arising from a certain human need for knowledge, will unite the scientific perception of the world and the artistic perception of the world in a higher synthesis and harmony. In this, there will be far more clairvoyance than in the kind of clairvoyance that many people dream of today—but which is, after all, only a dream.
[ 4 ] When we approach the human form, we can first perceive something important about it as we direct our gaze—as I’m sure more or less all of you have already done—toward this foundation of the human form, which we encounter in the skeleton. You have all certainly seen a human skeleton before and noticed the distinction that exists between the head and the rest of the human form. You will have observed that the head, in a certain sense, is a self-contained whole that actually rests, as if on a pillar, upon everything that constitutes the limb system—that is, the rest of the human organism. It is very easy to distinguish the head, resting upon the rest of the human organism, from the skeleton. If you consider the most superficial distinction in this way, you may notice that the head is, in fact, shaped more or less approximately like a sphere; it is not a perfect sphere, but the spherical form is inherent in the human head. Now, as a researcher in the spiritual sciences, one must even warn against basing an endeavor toward knowledge on external, superficial analogies. But viewing the human head as approximating a spherical shape is not a superficial observation of the head’s form; for the human being is, in the first instance, truly a kind of duality, and the spherical shape of the head is by no means a matter of chance. One need only consider what one actually has before one’s eyes in the human head. Initial hints as to what I mean here were given within our spiritual scientific considerations in the work I have titled *The Spiritual Guidance of the Individual and of Humanity*, in which I have already indicated how, in fact, the human head represents an image of the entire universe—the universe that appears to us externally as a spatial sphere, as a hollow sphere.
[ 5 ] When discussing these matters, one must draw attention to something that is still far removed from the way people today tend to think—something they always apply in one area, yet refuse to apply precisely where it has immense significance. No one who picks up a compass—a magnetic needle—and sees that one end of this magnetic needle points toward the magnetic North Pole and the other toward the magnetic South Pole would today think to look for the reasons why the needle aligns in precisely this way solely within the magnetic needle itself; rather, the physicist will feel compelled to view the magnetic needle and the magnetic force emanating from the Earth’s magnetic North Pole as a single entity, since this magnetic force directs one end of the needle toward the North Pole and the other toward the South Pole. Thus, one seeks the cause of what happens within the magnetic needle—in the tiniest of spaces—in the vast universe. Yet one does not do the same thing in a context where one ought to do so—and where it would be of the utmost importance to do so. If someone today observes—and specifically as a scientist—that one living being is forming within another living being, for example, if someone observes that an egg is forming inside a chicken, then something is also happening within the tiniest space; yet it usually does not occur to people to apply the same reasoning they use for the magnetic needle and say: It is not within the chicken, but within the entire cosmos, that the egg germ forms within the chicken’s body. — Just as the great universe is involved in the magnetic needle, so too is the entire cosmos, in its spherical form, involved in the chicken’s body—in the mother hen—despite all the processes that are also at work there. The processes that trace back through the hereditary line to the ancestors merely play a part when the germ cell forms in the mother’s organism. This is still considered heresy by official science today, but it is nonetheless the truth. And the forces of the cosmos are at work in the most diverse ways. And just as it is true that in human beings—as empirical embryology proves—the head, initially in its embryonic form, develops out of the entire universe, just as it is true that the human head first arises within the mother’s organism, so it is equally true, on the other hand, that the most fundamental forces underlying this formation act from the entire cosmos, and that the human being is, in his head, a reflection of the entire cosmos. Only what is attached to the head—the skeleton, one might say—if one considers it closely, is in its configuration and form more closely connected to what lies in the hereditary line—that which is related to the father and mother, grandfather and grandmother—than to what exists in the cosmos outside. Thus, with regard to his origin and development, the human being is, at first, a dual being. In terms of his form, on the one hand, he is shaped out of the cosmos, and this is revealed in the spherical shape of his head; on the other hand, he is shaped out of the entire stream of heredity, and this is revealed in the rest of the organism attached to the head. The entire external form of the human being reveals him to us as a hybrid being, showing us that he has a dual origin.
[ 6 ] Such a way of looking at things is significant not only because it enables us to learn something, but also for an entirely different reason. Anyone who today observes human beings according to the guidelines of conventional official science—who, for example, looks through a microscope and watches a germ develop, seeing only what is inside it — just as one might try to see, for example, from a magnetic needle why it has the ability to align itself in the direction from north to south — lives within a mass of thought that renders them immobile and useless for external life, especially when proceeding as is done in external science. And if one applies such thoughts to the social sciences, they are insufficient, or they lead to a kind of global schoolmasterly attitude, which, in other words, can also be called “Wilsonianism.” The question, then, is what kind of thinking is cultivated within us, what forms arise in our thoughts as we devote ourselves to certain ideas. Knowing about things is what is of lesser importance. What shapes a particular kind of knowledge within us, and what practical value it brings—that is what matters. And if one has an open mind for viewing human beings in connection with the whole of the world, then those thoughts are also awakened within us that lead to an ethical view of the world, to a legal view of the world—which in reality should be the highest, but which today is something quite peculiar. So you see, there are certain other impulses for seeking the kind of knowledge meant here, beyond the satisfaction—I won’t say of curiosity, but of mere thirst for knowledge.
[ 7 ] Thus, the human being stands before us as a dual being, as a hybrid. This has an even deeper meaning. And today I would like only to set the tone for the topics we will be exploring, in order to awaken in your souls a sense of the importance of what we are considering.
[ 8 ] Let us agree that, as our lives unfold—the head that now confronts us as a reflection of the entire world—is essentially the mediator of our cognition; I do not wish to call it a tool, for that would not be entirely accurate. But it is not the head alone that serves as the mediator of our cognition—let us stick with cognition, with the perception of the world—the head mediates it, but so does the rest of the human being. And since the rest of the human being, even in terms of its origin, is quite different from the head—is something else entirely—the human being, even insofar as it is a knowing being, consists of the head-human and—I call it what I have called it before—the heart-human, because everything else is concentrated in the heart. We are, in fact, two human beings: a head-person, who relates to the world through perception, and a heart-person. The difference is that human beings, no matter how much they sometimes rail against the world, use only their heads for cognition. What actually underlies this? If one were to draw parallels between head-cognition and heart-cognition, not much would come of it. The one who is able to grasp with the heart what the head recognizes would have a warmer understanding than the other. There would be a distinction among people, but the difference would not be very great. But if one approaches things through the experience of spiritual science, something quite different emerges. After all, we acquire insights and perceptions. Gradually, perceptions and insights come to us. Thus, the following is the case: How we relate to the world with our minds—how we perceive and recognize there—happens relatively quickly; and how we relate to the world through the rest of our organism in a cognitive sense happens slowly. In addition to all the other distinctions I already mentioned last winter regarding the development of the world and of human beings, there is also the fact that our head, with its cognition, moves quickly, while the rest of the organism does not. This has an immensely profound significance. When we are educated in the conventional school system, the focus is really only on the education of the head. People today are educated solely for the head; that is what the school system can do. For the head, in the extreme case—if it has long been engaged in the development of cognition, though for most people it does not go that far—reaches its limit in one’s twenties. By then, the head is finished with its cognition, with its assimilation of the world. The rest of the organism, however, needs the entire time until death to accomplish this. And one can certainly say: In this respect, the head moves about three times as fast as the rest of the organism; the rest of the organism has time—it moves three times slower, at a completely different pace. Therefore, it is clear to anyone who has the gift of observing such things through insight that, once they have grasped something with the head, they must wait until they have united it with the whole human being. To take something in as something alive, one must truly—if the process of taking it in through the mind has taken about a day—wait three to four days until it has been fully assimilated. The conscientious researcher of the spiritual realm will never recount what he has taken in solely with his mind, but only what he has grasped with his whole being. This has an extraordinary, far-reaching, and profound significance.
[ 9 ] Given the existing educational system, we can really only provide our children with a certain kind of intellectual knowledge today; we do not give them knowledge that the rest of their being can assimilate. It remains mere intellectual knowledge—knowledge that is already prepared in such a way that it must be quickly absorbed by the mind so that it can be recalled later. Admittedly, when it comes to subjects taught in school, one no longer remembers them later; in fact, one is glad to have them out of the way soon after the final exam. Knowledge that can be fully processed by the rest of the organism would, under all circumstances, later—when one recalls it—inspire love, joy, and warmth. How one should structure instruction is connected to the deepest secrets of humanity’s mysteries, so that later in life, when a person looks back on their time in school, they can yearn for it with warmth, joy, and a certain sense of bliss.
[ 10 ] There is an enormous amount of work to be done in this area. For anyone familiar with these matters knows that everything we present to children today, in particular, is already prepared from the outset in such a way that the rest of the organism does not accept it, and that it brings no joy later on. This is connected to the fact that people in our time age emotionally at a relatively early age. For that is, after all, the mystery of the human being: if the head, for example, is twenty-eight years old, the rest of the organism—which lags behind in its development—is only a third or a quarter of that age. The rest of the organism proceeds at a pace that is three or four times slower. We will come to understand other aspects of this as well. Thus, if educational approaches were designed to accommodate these mysteries, a person could absorb something so fruitful and nourishing that it would suffice until the time of their death. For if a person has absorbed such things by the age of twenty-five and needs only three times as long to process them, the rest of the organism would be able to process them by the age of seventy-five. But for the human being in his or her entirety, the knowledge acquired by the head does not have comprehensive significance; rather, it is only the inner, experiential knowledge that the whole human being, in his or her entirety, takes in. Yet even today, public life is averse to this; it wants to absorb only what constitutes intellectual knowledge. For just think about it—you can count on your fingers the full significance of what I mean: Someone might absorb so much with their head by the age of fifteen that, if they processed these concepts—and if these concepts related, for example, to the administration of public affairs—they would be mature enough by the age of forty-five to be elected to a city council or a parliament; for there they must engage as a whole human being. For it must be said: If one can instill in a person by the age of fifteen such conceptual faculties that they can be integrated into the whole of their being, then by the age of forty-five they will be mature enough to be elected to a city council or a parliament. And such principles still underlay the views of the ancients, who still possessed a living knowledge of these matters from the Mysteries. Today, however, efforts are directed toward lowering the age limit as much as possible, for today everyone at the age of twenty is just as mature as someone used to be at eighty. But it is not eager demands that can decide this, but only true insight.
[ 11 ] These things, then, already have a fundamental significance for life. Our entire public life is geared toward taking into account only what people are through their heads. But even though it is true that today, in their social interactions, people wisely interact only with their heads, this interaction of heads—just think about it: the entire social interaction is nothing but an interaction of heads!—is completely unsuitable for shaping social life. For where does the mind come from? The human mind—as we have explained—is not of this earth; it is created directly from the cosmos. If one wants to manage earthly affairs with the mind, one cannot do so. With the mind, no one is a national being; with the mind, no one belongs to any part of the earth. With the head, we are to decide only what belongs to the whole world. However, in order to be able to decide what belongs to the Earth, we must first, throughout our entire lives, grow together with that which belongs to the Earth and which makes us citizens of the Earth, not citizens of heaven. These things must be so. What can underlie public judgment must be drawn from deeper insights into human nature itself. And again, we must consider—I want only to sketch out the outlines today; the details will be elaborated upon later: What Goethe expressed as the idea of metamorphosis has a profound significance, and it has a much broader application than Goethe himself was able to derive from it in his time. |
[ 12 ] Our head, then, is formed from the cosmos. If we consider the matter from a spiritual scientific perspective, we must say: During the entire period between death and a new birth, we work in advance—for we are indeed working there in the cosmos—to form our head. We work on our organism by focusing primarily on our head between death and a new birth. This head is, in a certain sense, the tomb of the soul, in terms of what the soul was like before birth or, if we wish to say so, before conception. It is there that the activities we carry out in a spiritual life between death and a new birth come to rest. And to that which, in a certain sense, is formed out of the spiritual world, is then added that which is attached to it from the stream of heredity. But what is it that is attached from the stream of heredity? It is, nevertheless, something connected to the head. I have pointed this out before: what is in a human being apart from the head is the predisposition for the head in the next incarnation. The entire rest of the organism is something that can pass over, through metamorphosis, into the head of the next incarnation. The forces we develop throughout our entire life break away from the rest of the organism when we pass through the gate of death; but they remain in the forms that the rest of the organism had during life; this is carried through the time between death and the next birth and is reshaped into the head. Thus, in our head we always have what is inherited from the previous incarnation. And at the same time, in the rest of our organism, we have something that has a decisive influence on the formation of our head in the coming incarnation. In this respect, we are also a dual nature.
[ 13 ] Consider how, when one looks at things in this way—that human beings are truly and completely embedded in cosmic contexts—one comes to the conclusion that they do not merely arise and take shape within the aspects of time and space that are visible to us in external physical observation, but that they are situated within an immensely vast context. It is extraordinarily fascinating—not merely, as Goethe did, to look at a vertebra and then at the skull bones and conclude that the skull bones are simply transformed vertebrae—but it is extraordinarily fascinating to see how everything that is present in the head is also present in the rest of the organism. However, this requires an extraordinarily open-minded approach—not only to recognize, for example, the nose and everything on the head as such a transformation, but also to recognize that everything found in the rest of the organism is merely in a later stage of metamorphosis; all of this is transformed in an earlier stage of metamorphosis into what we then encounter on the head.
[ 14 ] I said: From an educational standpoint, the implications of such a view are extraordinarily important, and once people’s thinking turns toward this insight from the humanities, it will give rise to immensely significant demands for fields such as practical pedagogy.
[ 15 ] Above all, one thing is significant: We grow old in the course of our lives. But strictly speaking, we can only say that our physical body grows old. For as strange as it may seem—and I have mentioned this before—our etheric body, the next spiritual aspect of our being, grows ever younger. The older we get, the younger our etheric body becomes. And while our physical body develops wrinkles and goes bald, we—or at least our etheric body—can become increasingly rosy-cheeked and radiant. But we must, of course—just as external nature ensures that the physical body grows older—ensure that our etheric body is supplied with the forces of youth. We can do this, however, only if we take in through the mind such spiritual nourishment of the imagination that it is sufficient to be processed throughout our entire life.
[ 16 ] A student of the spiritual sciences might envision how to teach children in their earliest years that the human being is a reflection of the entire universe, a reflection of the divine, wise world order—but in such a way that it is grasped immediately and intuitively, rather than by reciting incomprehensible Bible verses to them. All of this, however, must be created out of the spirit of spiritual science; then there will be a richer, more vibrant body of knowledge than we have today. And this will be a source of rejuvenation for people throughout their lives, whereas our current education is not such a source of rejuvenation, but rather the opposite. And if we are in the fortunate position today of not being the most dreadful sourpusses because of our earlier education, it is only because today’s way of catering to the intellect—which has been developing for about four centuries and has now reached its peak—has not yet been able to ruin so much of what remains as a cultural heritage from ancient times. But if we continue in this way, teaching solely for the mind, then we are well on our way to truly raising sourpusses. I said just the other day—though the war did interrupt matters—that in the years before the war, there were large numbers of people heading to sanatoriums, and great resources [were expended] to alleviate nervousness.
[ 17 ] All of this stems from the fact that the mind is not given what the whole person needs. I have also mentioned how rarely one finds that proper care is taken of these matters. For I am constantly reminded of how, a few years ago, I once visited a sanatorium to see someone there. We arrived just as it was lunchtime. The entire group of sanatorium guests filed past us. Some of them were quite peculiar people, whose nervousness was literally written all over their faces, and who fidgeted with their hands and feet. But I then got to know the most nervous, the most fidgety person in that sanatorium—namely, the attending physician. And it must be said that a chief physician cannot find the right approach to treating his patients if he himself is the one who most needs treatment. Otherwise, however, he was an exceptionally amiable person, but he was an example of those people who, at least in their youth, did not absorb what could keep them youthful throughout their lives. Such things cannot be changed by isolated reforms or by shifting them from their current circumstances to different ones; such things can only be improved if the entire social organism is improved. Therefore, one must direct one’s attention to the entire social organism. The great laws of the universe already ensure that the individual cannot satisfy his egoism in such matters, but that, in a sense, he can find his salvation only by seeking it in communion with others.
[ 18 ] This is how I imagine it—and anyone who does not merely imagine what exists in the sensory realm, as is customary today, but who is able to look beyond the sensory into the supersensory, from which the forces must come to reform the world in the near future, can imagine this— this is how I imagine that in such a field, but also in others, the introduction of spiritual science into life can take place—by working out in a concrete, honest, and sincere way what spiritual science can provide the impetus for. You see, in the sense we have often spoken of—and will continue to speak of time and again—one need not strive for visionary clairvoyance, but one need only meaningfully grasp the human being as the image of the world’s spiritual nature; then the spiritual will come to one of its own accord. It is impossible to grasp and penetrate the human being in his or her entirety without penetrating and taking in sight what lies at the foundation of the human being as the spiritual. But one thing is necessary—I have often drawn attention to this—the abandonment of a vice that is so terribly prevalent today in relation to all questions of worldview: the abandonment of human complacency in knowledge. Our entire spiritual-scientific approach shows us, after all, that one must proceed step by step, that one must be inclined to delve into details in order to build a whole out of these details, and that one must, so to speak, start from what is sensually closest at hand in order to ascend to the supersensible. In what is immediately perceptible to the senses, one can almost grasp the supersensible with one’s own hands. For whoever can correctly contemplate the human head sees in it that which has been formed out of the entire universe, and sees in the rest of the human organism that which is once again forming itself back into the universe, only to return from the universe in the next incarnation. If one correctly observes what is outwardly perceptible to the senses, one can already arrive at the supersensible in a perfectly proper way. But one must be willing to accept the inconvenience of allowing the human being to be treated fairly, at least to the extent that one grants him, in terms of his understanding, what one grants, for example, to a clock or an entirely ordinary object. Anyone who has learned even a little about how mechanical devices function will admit that one cannot understand a clock without considering the interplay of its gears. When it comes to human beings, however, everyone speaks without making such a requirement; indeed, everyone believes they can speak about the highest essence of the human being, and very often invokes the argument that: “Yes, the truth must simply be ‘simple’”—and then they cobble together that accusation against spiritual science, which always consists in the claim that spiritual science is far too complicated. Human desire may well be to acquire in five minutes—or perhaps in no time at all—what is necessary for understanding the highest nature of the human being. But the human being is, after all, a complex being. It is precisely in this—that he is a complex being—that his greatness in the universe lies, and one must overcome the tendency toward intellectual laziness if one truly wishes to penetrate the essence of the human being. In our time, there is no understanding of what is necessary unless one is willing to put oneself in a position to at least intuitively penetrate the full complexity of human nature. For by cultivating only intellectual knowledge, by refusing to process with the whole human being what the mind learns, and by failing to provide the mind with anything that can be processed by the whole human being—in this way we place human beings within the social order in such a way that, in a sense, we do not wish to make earthly life a reflection of a supersensible, spiritual life. We suffer from a peculiar conflict. But this is not a conflict like the other conflicts I have just spoken of; rather, it is a harmful conflict that we must overcome.
[ 19 ] Human life has changed over the course of its development. To observe this, one need only go back four centuries—not even that far. Anyone who understands life in its reality—not from conventional literary history, but from the history of ideas—knows how infinitely different life and thought in the 18th century were from those of the 19th century. We need only go back a little to see how human thought as a whole has changed over the past four centuries. This human thought, which has changed so much, has gradually come to form increasingly abstract concepts by the 20th century. More and more intellectual concepts have emerged. If we consider the rich, vivid concepts of people in the 13th and 14th centuries, if we look at the natural sciences of those centuries: there is a striking contrast to the abstract, dry regularity of today’s natural sciences! There is a very well-known book attributed to Basilins Valentinus. It contains some very interesting insights. Recently, a Swedish scholar wrote a book on “matter” and quoted various passages from Valentinus in it, and his verdict is: Let those who can understand it do so; one simply cannot understand it. — We are quite willing to believe that he cannot understand anything in this book by Valentinus. For Valentinus, when read through the concepts we bring with us today from physics and chemistry, is completely incomprehensible! This is connected to the same phenomena that explain, for example, how the good old proverb “The early bird catches God and gold” has, over time, transformed into the other proverb “The early bird catches gold.” As a result, the traditional European saying “The early bird catches God and gold” has become Americanized: “The early bird catches gold.”
[ 20 ] In those days, the description and understanding of nature were permeated by what arises from the whole human being. Today, it is intellectual knowledge. As a result, on the one hand, it is abstract, dry, and does not fulfill a person’s entire life; and on the other hand, it is nevertheless very spiritual. We are faced with this dual nature: that we actually produce the most spiritual things today; these abstract concepts are the most spiritual things there can be, yet they are incapable of grasping the spirit. It is incredibly easy to see the conflict into which human beings are drawn by the spiritual concepts they have developed. Strangely enough, it is precisely in these spiritual concepts that they have become materialists. But if the concepts were correct, materialism would never arise from them. The very existence of abstract concepts is in itself the first refutation of materialism. We live within this conflict. We have become immensely spiritualized over the past four centuries, and we must rediscover the living spiritual within this spirituality that we possess only in the abstract. We have risen to the point of having only concrete concepts, but we must return to imagination, inspiration, and intuition. We have cast aside what had been handed down to us from ancient, time-honored wisdom in the form of imaginations, inspirations, and intuitions. We must regain it, now that we have so thoroughly divested ourselves of the full richness of knowledge pertaining to the whole human being.
[ 21 ] This is something that can truly inspire a sense of seriousness toward spiritual science. And if I have spoken more in an introductory manner in these two lectures that I have now had the privilege of presenting to you again, my intention was to show how, even from the most external observation of the human being, the impulse can arise to engage with that which lies at the spiritual foundation of the world. In pursuing these impulses and ideas, humanity will arrive at something that is so sorely lacking today: inner truthfulness. One cannot truly strive fruitfully toward the spirit unless one strives in inner truthfulness, and one will never go astray if, through life experience, one gains the insight that a true harmony between intellectual knowledge and heart-based knowledge is possible only when one truly engages with life. For this is precisely why people today do not want to transform intellectual knowledge into heart-based knowledge: not only because heart-based knowledge takes longer, but also because it reacts against intellectual knowledge, rejecting it when it is untrue. The rest of the human being then makes itself felt as a kind of conscience. This is what the modern human race, inclined solely toward the intellect, fears.
[ 22 ] And now, in conclusion—since it is always our concern, when we are gathered together like this, to consider the position of our spiritual scientific endeavors, which we have characterized in the manner we did today and last time, in the context of the entire world—in conclusion, a few remarks that have immediate practical implications for us.
[ 23 ] Spiritual science can only flourish if one takes it seriously in terms of truthfulness; for it must address the deepest needs of humanity, especially in the present. It must expose itself to those pangs of conscience that can very easily arise when the heart says “no” to the head. For the heart always says “no” to the head when the spiritual is not sought, or when knowledge is pursued solely out of mere selfishness, desire, ambition, and so on. For this reason, it has always been necessary, in the practice of spiritual science, not to allow even the slightest compromise to arise on any side. Spiritual science must be pursued positively from within itself; one cannot make compromises with half-measures, quarter-measures, or eighth-measures; it is too serious a matter today. Having said a few introductory remarks, we may now follow them with these observations, which are not meant personally, even if they touch on personal matters. A large part of the opposition to spiritual science can only be understood if one considers its origins and how it has developed. Here and there, for example, someone appears who turns against spiritual science in the most vehement manner. There are other cases as well, but in many instances, opposition to spiritual science arises from something like what I am about to cite as a concrete example.
[ 24 ] I was once in Frankfurt am Main to give some lectures. Someone called me to say that a gentleman wanted to speak with me. I had no objection and said he could speak with me at such-and-such a time. The man in question arrived and said: “Oh, I’ve actually been following you around for quite some time now, just to see if I could speak with you someday.” I had no objection to that, but I wasn’t particularly interested either. The man then went on and on about all sorts of things. But one simply cannot help but take spiritual science seriously, and if one wants to do that, then one must reject many things that come along and claim to be scholarly. You can’t compromise on just anything. I wasn’t rude to the man, but I let him run on, making it clear that I wouldn’t pay any further attention to him. It was my deepest conviction that the man was spouting empty nonsense, but that he was seeking support in the process. That really did come to light in countless cases. — What I am saying now, I am not saying out of frivolity, but precisely to characterize certain events. — So I had to let this man run his course. Much of what the man said was extraordinarily flattering, but the only question was whether there was any truth to his “also” spiritual-scientific aspirations. Soon afterward, announcements by this man appeared in Switzerland, from which it emerged that the “demonic” and “diabolical” aspects of Steiner’s spiritual science were to be thoroughly debunked. — I could also recount a follow-up to this story, but I’d rather not. This, however, is one of the ways in which opponents arise here and there. Very often, these are people who were actually seeking some kind of connection, and whose search for such a connection simply had to be ignored for specific reasons. Much had to be ignored in order to keep spiritual science pure. That was a necessity one had to accept.
[ 25 ] Now I would like to mention something else in this context: Our highly esteemed friend Dr. Rittelmeyer recently wrote in the journal *Die christliche Welt* about the relationship between our spiritual science and religious questions, and in doing so attempted to dispel many other prejudices against our spiritual science in an exceptionally commendable and gratifying manner . I hope that all of you will familiarize yourselves with the essay that Dr. Rittelmeyer published in *Die christliche Welt*. Now, however, Dr. Johannes Müller—who is, of course, known to many—has seen fit to write a series of essays spanning three issues of the same *Die christliche Welt* in opposition to Dr. Rittelmeyer’s treatise. It is truly not my intention to address in any way what Dr. Johannes Müller has written. For a long series of years—one that has no beginning—it has essentially always been my aim not to speak about Dr. Johannes Müller; for I have reasons to keep spiritual science free from dilettantish endeavors and to avoid entangling it in compromises of any kind. And I believe that this is best achieved by not paying attention to it—at least not by speaking about it—since it must, supposedly, have an effect through its own merit, if it is to have any effect at all. I have never mentioned Dr. Johannes Müller in any specific context. Now, in our time there is not much sense of what actually constitutes truth and falsehood in this field. If you go through Johannes Müller’s essays now, you will find that they already contain a good deal of what one must call objective falsehoods—caused by carelessness or by something else. They are brimming with them. Such things must be examined closely. In one instance, I had to characterize such a falsehood: the Dessoir falsehoods in my *Seelenrätsel* (*Riddles of the Soul*). I am now very curious, for the evidence presented there against the professor at the University of Berlin should actually lead to some action. One need only read the essay—the second one I wrote in my book *On the Riddles of the Soul*—about the way Professor Dessoir operates. Anyone, of course, who writes about Dessoir’s book after this essay—which is now available—and fails to take this essay into account is an accomplice to these matters. But people don’t take these things seriously today; many simply make excuses: “I didn’t know”—as if the one who makes a claim weren’t the one who should first properly consider the facts. — Well, as for such trifles as the claim that my posters are “sensationalist” and so on, I’d rather leave it to those who are familiar with Johannes Müller’s lectures and posters to judge; and as for the suggestion that my lectures are designed to capitalize on people’s particular thirst for sensation, I’ll likewise leave that to others to judge. Not long ago, a highly esteemed elderly gentleman—who truly seeks to form a conscientious judgment on these matters—told me that he was actually surprised that so many people attended my lectures, since I did not set out to make them easy. Now it is very easy to prove that Johannes Müller’s accusations are untrue. For in a city where spiritual science has not yet taken root, the mere announcement of my lectures usually does not draw a large crowd; but where many do come, it is because genuine efforts have been made to promote and cultivate interest in such matters in that place. However, I do not wish to dwell on this further; at most, I will point out the final section of Johannes Müller’s statement, in which he goes on at length about my speaking of the “drama of God,” who is to be redeemed through humanity, and the like, and where Johannes Müller fills one and a half columns by quoting a few sentences from any random passage in my book *Christianity as a Mystical Fact*, which he tears out of context as it happens to suit him. But because of what he has omitted beforehand, everything he says becomes utter nonsense. In my book on Christianity, the exact opposite is stated regarding the “Drama of God and its Enchantment.” Johannes Müller, however, excuses himself by claiming that he could not make sense of my writings. I certainly believe him! But without having understood even the slightest bit, Johannes Müller sets about attacking this book. I have often pointed out that this book sees the central theme in the Mystery of Golgotha—unlike all other mysteries. Johannes Müller has no sense of this. So I would never expect him to understand my book, nor do I believe he would be capable of doing so, yet he criticizes it. And here’s the strange thing: this book was published in 1902; so by 1906, it had been available for four years. It was well known that, in that first edition, I had set forth my relationship to the natural sciences on the one hand and to philosophy on the other. *Christianity as a Mystical Fact* had become well known. Well, if Johannes Müller was not yet familiar with it, that is his business. But I mention that it was well known in 1906, and that it was just as much a part of my overall worldview as, for example, my *Philosophy of Freedom*. Anyone who formed an opinion about me in 1906, therefore, had to consider me from the standpoint of my entire worldview and, strictly speaking, could not accept half-measures. So in 1906, the fact was that *Christianity* had already been published for four years. But in 1906, Johannes Müller sent me the book *The Sermon on the Mount*. It bore the following dedication: “To Dr. R. Steiner, in fond memory of *The Philosophy of Freedom*. Mainberg, August 17, 1906.” This matter is one of those in which I was compelled to remain silent; for it was not possible to make compromises along the lines I have spoken of. And I consider it my right, rather than telling someone, “I view your ideas as such and such,” to remain silent when he approaches me in this manner. But remaining silent can, under certain circumstances, annoy people the most. I said that one must look for opposition to spiritual science in the real circumstances. It is often much more unpleasant for people when one uncovers the real circumstances. I could recount even more unpleasant things. But anyone who now reads Dr. Johannes Müller’s essays about our friend Dr. Rittelmeyer would perhaps do well not merely to seek opposition in these matters, but in contributions such as the one I briefly mentioned. One must investigate everywhere to see if one can find reasons that are much more genuine than those lying on the surface. It is irritating when someone approaches the topic “with fond memories of the *Philosophy of Freedom*” and the other person does not address it or offer a response.
[ 26 ] I thought I might as well share this brief piece on Johannes Müller’s psychology with you, so that you might gain a clearer understanding of that subject than you might otherwise gain simply from reading his essays.
