The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Third Lecture

[ 1 ] Last time, I pointed out here how the conditions prevailing across today’s civilized Earth can be understood in terms of the embodiment of souls. I pointed out how anthroposophical truths must be perceived in external reality, and how seriously we must take what hinders us—what prevents us, for example, from viewing the historical development of humanity as it is often viewed today: merely as a kind of continued effect of externally perceptible forces throughout the generations. One must be absolutely clear that what flows through the generations with the blood does not explain the events of the present. These events are explained solely when one is aware that souls come from regions entirely different from those in which the physical ancestors of present-day humanity in any given territory lived. We have attempted to shed some light on this. Today I would like to discuss this entire situation—which we have described as characteristic of our earthly existence—once again from a different perspective.

[ 2 ] I will, however, have to point out a number of things that have already been discussed in previous lectures from various perspectives. But the point at the moment is certainly that we are receiving more and more inner impulses to be able to rise to the challenges of the present. This ability to rise to the challenge cannot come about if only a few people have a serious inkling of what the great challenges of the present consist of. We are living in a time when many people must come to realize what needs to happen. And therefore, we must work to ensure that as many people as possible grasp what must be known, willed, and felt in the present, so that humanity can achieve a kind of ascent. For in today’s world, not wanting to ascend means wanting to descend.

[ 3 ] However, there is another insight regarding the incarnation of souls into present-day bodies, in addition to the one I discussed last time.

[ 4 ] I have already indicated in earlier lectures that it is clearly evident in spiritual scientific research how many souls, who are now, so to speak, supposed to descend from spiritual worlds into physical bodies, view this incarnation into physical bodies with a kind of aversion, with a kind of antipathy. At present—and this is precisely what underlies our current earthly conditions—there is already a certain antipathy among human souls toward descending once more into physical bodies. It goes without saying that, in hinting at this, one is speaking of soul experiences that preceded incarnation into physical bodies and that do not belong to ordinary present-day memory, so that what is characterized in this way is unconscious to many people today. But it can become conscious if what arises from spiritual research is measured against the phenomena of the day, against the phenomena of the present. We should, in fact, take this measuring of insights derived from spiritual research against the events of the present very, very seriously.

[ 5 ] The present is, in essence, a time that does not approach people in the same way that past times have approached them. As you know, I am quite averse to going along with the cliché of a “time of transition”—for one always lives in a time of transition. What matters is what is changing. And it is less important to bandy about the phrase that we are living in a “time of transition” than it is to recognize, right here in the present, what has come into the present from the past that must be overcome, and what must be prepared for the future. And here one must say: This 20th century in which we live is such in its relationship to evolving humanity that, by living in part within this 20th century—that is, by the fact that those souls who are in physical bodies are to experience something quite special through this life on Earth—these experiences are meant to be significant, decisive in a certain way. Just try for a moment to compare what can be experienced in the present with the experiences of humanity in earlier times, and you will come to realize that, although some may speak of it lightly when they say: “What has transpired so far in the 20th century bears no comparison to previous events in the history recorded in the annals of humanity.” — But precisely when one delves deeper into the events of the present, one must note that it is indeed the case that in our time, humanity is to experience things that cannot be compared to those of earlier times.

[ 6 ] One could now point to many examples from current events to corroborate what I have just said. But I will mention only a few. Precisely from the perspective of the region of the Earth in which we live, and considering things more from a spiritual standpoint at this very moment, we can say: It is, after all, something that might be described as frightening: that in Central Europe, the transformations that have taken place—roughly from the middle of the 19th century into the 20th—have occurred with such tremendous speed. People simply do not usually take note of everything that has happened there. Anyone who has a sense for such things can compare the entire way in which the people of Central Europe thought seventy or eighty years ago with how they think today—and especially how they felt back then compared to how they feel today. There is a very clear outward difference. The state of mind of the people of Central Europe, in particular, has changed extraordinarily. And there is something else to add to this. Certainly, people—at least most people—sleep through the most important events; they do not notice them. But these events are still there. There are well-meaning writings today, authored by people from the more western regions of the world—by English and Americans—that are full of superficial sympathy for the material circumstances of the people of Central Europe. That is true. But what underlies this very spiritual current is something that should be closely observed in Central Europe. For this Central Europe, which today more than ever finds itself in a decisive position between the Orient and the Occident—whereby by “Occident” I mean primarily those regions where the Anglo-American element sets the tone—seems, above all, when one considers the external circumstances today, to be in danger of being deprived of its distinctive spiritual character. I earnestly ask you not to misunderstand what I am saying now. Certainly, one can have full understanding for material hardships, and it is not so difficult to have that today in this time of misery and need; but spiritual distress—that is something that must be taken into account above all else, even today.

[ 7 ] Try, without paying attention to what is said out of prejudice—or what may be said out of prejudice in your own mind—to summarize what today’s events hold in store for the spiritual destiny of Central Europe. Doesn’t everything, absolutely everything, tend toward the actual eradication of this Central European spirituality on Earth? If one were to face this fact impartially, one would surely feel an impulse welling up within to do everything one can to further this true Central European spirituality. Unless very significant forces come into play, both the East and the West of the Earth will unite across Central Europe—at first, probably, in a terrible enmity, but then, transcending that enmity, into some current that Central Europe itself must not will, into some current that will then seek to propagate itself as a world culture, as a world civilization. And what I am saying now is connected to the antipathy that souls descending to Earth today feel toward inhabiting present-day physical bodies. Not only those souls of whom I told you recently—that they largely originate from what was once Central Europe and then migrated eastward in their present incarnations—had, prior to their incarnation, little desire to be in these bodies, but also those souls who are in the western regions, in America and in large parts of England—who, as you know, lived in Oriental bodies a relatively long time ago—did not view their incarnation with full sympathy, as was the case in earlier periods of Earth’s development. The souls of neither the East nor the West live, if I may say so, in a completely normal way within these bodies. This becomes clearly apparent when one approaches today’s civilization through the methods of spiritual scientific research.

[ 8 ] First and foremost, there are these people from the East. We now know which souls these are. And from the various descriptions of cultural history in spiritual science that have been presented, we also know in which bodies these souls dwell. Certainly not all of these souls from the East share a common interest, but there is nevertheless a certain interest that extends predominantly into the eastern regions of Europe. These souls—the leading souls—all unconsciously draw the conclusion from their antipathy toward their physical embodiment that they should not fully place themselves within the arena of earthly events, nor fully immerse themselves in the facts of these earthly events. There is an innate aversion among the souls of the East—particularly among the most prominent people of the East—toward becoming acquainted with and participating in what has become external culture in Central Europe and the West: external natural science, external technology, and so on. And one can say: In stark contrast to what was precisely the finest Central European state of mind in earlier times, we see today how numerous souls in Central Europe, arising from the conditions of embodiment that I described last time, are seized by this aversion to integrating themselves into the realities and circumstances of the present. — Let us just take an unbiased look at our own time. How many people are there today who, in a completely misguided way, want to transport themselves back, in a spiritual sense, to the Eastern conception of the spirit—who feel a certain mystical urge not to participate in what is happening in the outer world today, who would like to flee into a mystical -warm perspective on life—in other words, who wish to bring into our entirely different way of life what was once justified for the Oriental way of life of earlier times but has now become decadently outdated.

[ 9 ] That is the one thing that is so harmful in our time: otherworldly mysticism. This otherworldly mysticism takes various forms. It is found in those who are enamored with all sorts of spiritual views modeled on Eastern traditions. But it is also present in a way that goes more unnoticed—and that deserves our attention. For today, throughout the entire civilized world, from East to West, we live in a very peculiar relationship to something that is intimately connected with our entire civilization—indeed, with life itself: we live in a peculiar relationship to language. The further we move toward the East, the stronger the tendency becomes not to allow language itself to descend entirely onto the physical plane, but rather to let language—speech—be permeated by a certain direction of the soul; not to be absorbed into the words, but to have an overflowing, surging feeling that does not strive to be completely absorbed into the words. One might say there is a desire not to adapt language to the conditions of the physical plane, but rather to retain it, as it were, within the human being, in order to express states of ecstasy and ecstatic experiences more fully through language. One must develop an eye for the fact that there are many people today who find it downright contemptible when a person strives to make their language as vivid as possible. They find this too intellectualistic; they find it too deeply immersed in the conditions of the physical plane. They wish to keep language in a half-light, in a twilight state. They consider poetic only that which keeps language in a twilight state; they love such a romanticization of the linguistic element. If one strives to have something in every word, in every sentence, that corresponds to some fully experienced reality, this is something that does not appeal to such souls. Such souls wish to speak without living with that for which language exists—with realities. This unwillingness to live with realities is something that is very characteristic of a large part of our present-day humanity. And this is, to a greater or lesser extent, the defining characteristic of language itself, the further one goes toward the East.

[ 10 ] Western languages, on the other hand, have a different characteristic. They do strive to capture reality through language, to immerse themselves in realities through language, but they do not shape the language itself; they allow the language to become blurred, so that while they do immerse themselves in realities, they do so with a language that lacks sufficient vividness—a language that does not embrace things with enough love. This is connected to other tendencies in the West. After all, it is essentially from the West that the perspective has come which, in fact, does not extend all the way up to human beings. First, there is Darwinism, which certainly contains admirable insights when it comes to understanding the animal world. One need not focus so much on the fanatics of Darwinism as on Darwinism itself. There is much in it that penetrates the animal world in a truly admirable way, and one can then say: Human beings stand at the pinnacle of the animal world. — But this does nothing to help us understand human beings themselves. We see this in the West as well in the social sphere. We see strange views gaining ground in the West that actually exclude human beings from the field of consideration. We see how, within the Western national economy, human beings as such do not actually play a special role. What plays a role is that which is attached to human beings as external and material. The private property that a person possesses is actually regarded as the embodiment of individuality in national economics, not the human being himself. And in the West, people do not actually speak of the freedom that springs from the whole human being, but rather—with complete conviction—they speak only of economic freedom. Ever since Adam Smith—and even earlier—people have spoken of economic freedom: of what a person has to contribute to the balance of civilization by possessing something they can enjoy in the world, and by the fact that this possession grants them economic independence, and so on. But people do not speak of what a human being actually is, of what springs forth from within the human being itself with the character of freedom.

[ 11 ] All these things, however, point to much deeper phenomena. Those souls who, with a certain antipathy, incarnate today into Eastern bodies—because other circumstances compel them to do so—often actually strive to prevent the cognitive faculties of these bodies from grasping earthly reality. They strive, so to speak, to keep human beings in their consciousness outside of earthly reality. There is something Luciferic in the truest sense of the word in this state of mind, and this Luciferic element blows over from the East.

[ 12 ] In the West, on the other hand, there is something eminently Ahrimanic in the souls. They do not wish to take possession of their bodies in such a way that they look out into the world through these bodies with open senses; rather, they immerse themselves so deeply in these bodies that they do not fully encompass or spiritualize them. They live in their bodies, but they do not fully permeate them. This gives rise to what is the inevitable consequence of living in a human body without an open sense for what surrounds one in the world. If one has an open sense, one discovers in this world not only the outer physical-sensory reality, but also the spirituality underlying this physical-sensory reality. One does not discover this underlying spirituality if, although one is housed in a body, one does not fully permeate that body right to its very periphery. This is the soul-disposition of the West. Due to these circumstances, one might say, it is indeed the case that some bodies of Western people are constituted in such a way that the souls within them do not come fully into their own as the bodies grow. But because the human souls in these bodies do not come into their own, the bodies can become shells or vessels for entirely different beings who then move into them—beings who virtually sleep through what lies in the very nature of the human soul itself.

[ 13 ] And through all these things, one mood spreads from the East and another from the West. The mood spreading from the East is this: to preserve people in the emotional and sensory modes of earlier times, which rise even more instinctively toward spirituality; not to let people descend so far onto the Earth that they can fully connect with the situation here on Earth. In the West, on the other hand, the prevailing current is not to view what is present now in such a way as to perceive in it the spirituality that is ever progressing in all existence, but rather to remain stuck at the stage of what humanity has once become—because one inhabits it, but does not permeate it; because one does not actually love it enough to want to permeate it completely. From the West, there is a desire to preserve the current state of humanity with its materialistic mindset and materialistic actions. From the East, there is a desire not to allow humanity to reach the point where it is fully united with the material conditions of the Earth, but rather to prevent people from fully embracing the present within themselves. On both sides, there is actually an effort to prevent people from fully grasping the present. And an immense fear, which unconsciously takes hold of humanity, further supports this. Anyone who views this present impartially, with the great decisions it holds within its bosom, must, in a certain sense, face these decisions courageously.

[ 14 ] There are two ways to avoid confronting the decisions of the present. One is to become an enthusiastic mystic or “theosophist” and to repeat the phrase “ex oriente lux” in a superficial manner. Then one can derive an inner sense of well-being from a certain flight from the events of the present. One can rise above them, can even feel like a superior being within this mysticism or theosophy, and can despise everything happening around one as “the evil world,” as the world of matter, which is inferior. But that is precisely the harm of this one extreme, just as the other extreme is harmful—one that manifests in the more Western current, which, taken to its ultimate conclusion, produces the materialistic person, for whom the fear of confronting the decisions of the present takes on a different character, so that he says: Human beings are the product of what takes place within them physically and physiologically, and to speak of anything that lies within a person’s own decision-making is nonsense; one need not take it into account. It is necessary to nurture what has once taken physical form in humanity. One is superstitious when one speaks of a special spirituality. — On the one hand, one flees from spirituality, while on the other hand, one flees from materiality.

[ 15 ] Thus, today we have two extremes in the human soul: on the one hand, materialism, which is Ahrimanic; on the other hand, mysticism, which is Luciferic. On the one hand, we have the great ideological movement from the West to the East, which develops a mechanistic natural science based solely on matter and which, so to speak, permeates our external education. On the other hand, we have the movement from the East to the West, which is truly captivating many minds today and will continue to captivate more and more. And one would hope that what anthroposophy is will not be destroyed by these minds through their interpreting it in the spirit of an impassioned mysticism. We do, after all, have this other current that seeks only to draw from a sphere detached from the real world; we find this tendency particularly present in the theosophical worldview, which seeks to import from the East things that have long since faded away and are entirely unsuitable for humanity today.

[ 16 ] These are the two extremes that, in fact—perhaps despite a terrible enmity brought about by external circumstances and internal contradictions—would like to reach out to one another from both sides. And because these currents exist, and because that is the case, it is—to put it trivially, though it is truly not meant to be trivial but rather tragic—that people in Central European regions are in such a poor state, especially spiritually.

[ 17 ] This is what one should observe with the watchful eye of the soul. For if one were to express the matter somewhat radically, one might say: In this Central Europe, the higher synthesis, the harmony, the higher harmony of these two extremes has been prepared—and it is from this harmony, from this unity alone, that progress for humanity can spring forth. For here in Central Europe, spiritual currents have culminated that emerged from truly significant underlying sources—most recently from what, though fading at the time and overshadowed by the other, initially appeared as an intellectualist spirituality in German idealism, in such worldviews as those held by Fichte, Schelling, Hegel held—of which Schelling’s, even at its end, was close to gradually bringing forth what could have developed into a true anthroposophical spiritual science, for which the time was simply not yet ripe.

[ 18 ] But it really does seem as if the whole world had conspired to prevent whatever was in the making from ever coming to fruition. I would say: From the East and the West, Lucifer and Ahriman have conspired to ensure that this synthesis cannot flourish. For here, in this central region of the Earth, there have actually been those people who—even if they sometimes had to stop halfway due to the circumstances of the times—strived for spirituality, but at the same time strove for a devoted understanding of nature. What a wonderful pendulum swing we see, for example, in Goethe—between his constant attraction to viewing the world spiritually and, in turn, to viewing the world in the breadth of its outward natural phenomena. How earnestly Goethe sought harmony between what the spirit told him and what nature revealed to him. And how do we see this very Goethean spirit—which, after all, already has roots throughout Central Europe—how do we see it being overgrown! On the one hand, we constantly see the influence of the West. We have seen it in our external science, which is, if I may use the expression, entirely “Westernized,” and which is completely hostile to the spiritual in its methods. Even if it sometimes embraces something spiritual in name, it is nevertheless averse to incorporating the spiritual into its methods, particularly in scientific research. And what, on the other hand, have we experienced in recent decades from those people who seek to break free from this antagonistic atmosphere that paralyzes the spirit? — Within that civilization in Europe, which has seen the emergence in its bosom of something like Schiller’s *Aesthetic Letters*—from which a wonderful unfolding of the soul and the spiritual could have grown—numerous people have clung to the drivel of all sorts of American mystics, such as Ralph Waldo Trine and the like, to that mystical drivel, which, compared to what exists in the spiritual substance of Central Europe, is something extraordinarily inferior—a soul-centered, egoistic striving for inner well-being, not for a genuine spiritual uplift. Here we see the full scope of what I would like to call the tendency for the Western to overwhelm what is uniquely Central European. Of course—and in the field of anthroposophy this goes without saying—this is not meant to be a criticism of people. People must be held in equal esteem throughout the world. But is what lives within people the same as what permeates human souls as a culture, as the atmosphere of civilization? Is it at all right for someone to say that by opposing Western spiritual currents, they are thereby attacking Western people? — No, they are not attacking the people, but rather pointing to what exists as a spiritual atmosphere in the West.

[ 19 ] And do we not see, on the other hand, that this Central European mindset is, in many people, positively filled with a longing to incorporate fragments of ancient wisdom from the East into their spiritual life? To the connoisseur, such an incorporation of Eastern spiritual wisdom truly pains the soul. Even if one takes something relatively easy to assimilate, such as the Bhagavad Gita, one must still be clear that what the Central European person can gain from the Bhagavad Gita today can, at best, be something they have fashioned for themselves—and that this is by no means Eastern spiritual wisdom. For even in the East itself, this is no longer present. People rave when they can meditate on some passage from the Bhagavad Gita, but fundamentally they gain nothing of substance from it; rather, they merely have something through which they indulge in a certain inner pleasure. They lack the courage to embrace that which, as a balancing force, would now be breathable as a spiritual atmosphere precisely in the central regions of the Earth. It must be said: Precisely in the penetration of so-called Eastern theosophy lies something that has long been a harmful countercurrent within Central Europe. — This judgment does not extend to the idea that one cannot use the terminology of the East—including its concepts—for certain things, or that one should not attempt to understand the East. That goes without saying. It concerns entirely different matters—precisely the things I have attempted to characterize in these remarks.

[ 20 ] In contrast, it must be pointed out how such devotion—whether to the overt materialism of the West, as it manifests in this movement, or to the veiled materialism of the West, as it enters through Trine or Christian Science, which is also nothing other than materialism, only from the opposite side—constitutes spiritual regression. Both devotion to this and devotion to all manner of mysticism—that is what most decisively brings about regression in the spiritual realm. What can bring progress is that which is, in essence, well-prepared—but which already exists today, so to speak, as the underlying layer of Central European civilization, over which has already been superimposed the convergence of East and West. For it is a truth—as has often been hinted at here, and as you can also glean from my writings and lecture series— What we have as the external Bible, what we have externally as the New Testament, has essentially suffered the same fate as other Oriental writings. We do not have them today in their true form. And if one attempts to arrive at their true form, it can only be done through spiritual science, which in turn brings the vitality necessary to penetrate these matters. But when one brings this vitality into the Bible, into the New Testament, then those who are the official representatives today—the Traubs and so on—are the very first to present it to the world as a fantasy, as something utterly monstrous, as something worthy of condemnation.

[ 21 ] Here in Central Europe, there are essentially people who, on the one hand, truly wish to rise to a spiritual level and, on the other hand, also have an aptitude for grasping the full breadth of the external natural world. That is what is necessary today. Only from this spirit can humanity move forward. Therefore, in the realm of knowledge, it is just as necessary today for people to delve deeply into what the study of nature has to offer as it is, on the other hand, for them to delve deeply into what spiritual science has to offer. Neither one nor the other contains the full truth; only the harmony of both within the human soul reveals the full truth. And the same is true in the practical realm. Neither the one-sided practice of religion—which seeks to flee the world, or at least to accept the world just as it is while living in all manner of religious exaltations that are detached from reality—nor, on the other hand, the outward routine that prevails in our public life can bring about any real progress. Only those who lovingly embrace both—on the one hand, what the external world demands of us in terms of practical measures, and, on the other hand, is inclined to combine what the external world demands of us with what can be acquired through an education in spiritual science—an education that equips us with skill in such a way that this skill is not merely external training, but a way of acting illuminated by inner spirituality, which is at the same time rooted in the state of the soul. Only in this way can we achieve what the present age sets as our task. This is what we must recognize above all else.

[ 22 ] There are so many people today who oppose this spiritual science—the one referred to here—because it speaks quite openly about spiritual realities; because, just as physics speaks of the anode and cathode, this spiritual science speaks of how souls, under certain moods — with sympathy or antipathy — find their way from the spiritual worlds into earthly bodies. Because this spiritual science looks at natural phenomena just as it does at spiritual facts, it is rejected from many quarters. This spiritual science is rejected by those who wish to look only at external nature, because they cannot really imagine what it entails—perhaps they find only words in it. But this spiritual science is also rejected by all those people who wish to live in vague mysticism, in old, traditional religious creeds that have not found a connection to modern ways of life. This spiritual science is also rejected by those whose concepts have no substance whatsoever, but who merely drift and slide along with the sound and meaning of words—like so many contemporary philosophers, even those who are currently founding “schools of wisdom.” But that is precisely what we do not need. We do not need a wisdom of words that refuses to penetrate the facts of nature. Nor do we need an obscure, fanciful mysticism. And we certainly do not need that which seeks to penetrate natural phenomena in a spiritless manner. What we need is a synthesis, a union of both, for that alone is reality. And from this point of view, we must certainly consider that our language—the language of humanity—simply by advancing from the East to the West, and fundamentally also in Central Europe, has taken on precisely those forms that give this language its plasticity, that allow this language to be something that feels connected, in the innermost being of the human being, to the entire mood and disposition of the soul. On the other hand, however, the language of Central Europe in particular seeks to be something that now also flows out into external events, something that is not selfishly held back within the human being. This is something that could be seen, for example, in a language such as that of Goethe and Hegel. There, it is clearly present in its potential. And the potentials that exist there are very, very capable of further development; they are precisely directed toward what we seek to achieve through the aims of spiritual science.

[ 23 ] It is no surprise, however, that spiritual science is slandered—unconsciously, objectively, and for my sake—by both those influenced by the East and those influenced by the West. But on the other hand, spiritual science must also make clear, time and again, what its true nature actually is. And that is why it was my duty today to speak to you about these matters, and it is actually incumbent upon those within the anthroposophical movement to try to clearly articulate what this anthroposophical spiritual science aims to achieve—to clearly articulate how, within this anthroposophical spiritual science, one does not shy away from to speak of spiritual facts and the supersensible world as a complete reality in the same way that one speaks of the physical world; and to make it clear, too, that what matters most to this spiritual science is to strengthen the soul through spiritual scientific education to such an extent that the human being gains an open, free judgment regarding what are today’s practical necessities. The fact that our practical undertakings flow with a certain inner consistency precisely from our most spiritual perspective—this is what everyone within this spiritual science movement should make quite clear to themselves. For it then falls to them to present this spiritual science in the right light in the face of the world’s errors, to show what it actually aims to achieve. One cannot find too many opportunities today, for countless opportunities are still being allowed to pass unused, opportunities in which one would be in a position to present the true face of this spiritual science in its proper light.

[ 24 ] It may seem to you as though I am examining certain matters from far too many angles. But what matters today is not that we should learn more and more interesting facts from the spiritual worlds, but rather that we imprint the impulses that can come to us from these facts of the supersensible worlds onto the sensory worlds in the right way.

[ 25 ] Today it is necessary for the alert soul to be truly aware of the danger that threatens humanity’s development—both from the side that seeks to keep people in a Luciferic frenzy, and from the side that seeks to plunge them entirely into the Ahrimanic-material realm. For false mysticism, false intellectualism, and a detachment from the world—which strive for a state of intoxication rather than for outer clarity and inner light—this false Eastern mood leads precisely toward inner untruth. It becomes inner untruth, just as the Western mindset—which seeks to drag people down into materialistic views and behavior—leads to outward falsehood.

[ 26 ] This is precisely what threatens humanity today: on the one hand, a descent into inner untruth through false mysticism and the continued preservation of old religious creeds; on the other hand, a descent into outward deceitfulness—the empty rhetoric of our time is already the beginning of this outward deceitfulness—through a complete immersion in mere materiality. These two dangers should actually be discerned with an alert soul precisely by those who seek an understanding of anthroposophical spiritual science. That is what I wanted to inscribe into your souls today as a thought that is not merely meant to be a thought that is heard or taken theoretically, but one that seeks to become a thought that truly warms the soul and whose warmth brings with it impulses of life. For spiritual science is not what it aims to be unless it warms the soul and, through this warming of the souls, indirectly creates life impulses within them. If we do this as best we can—each and every one of us—then the union of souls attuned in this way will become something that the present age very, very much needs.

[ 27 ] And now, my dear friends, I would like to make one more aside—one that is very painful for me, but which I must make. I have said this before, but I must say it again today: I am currently unable to accommodate many requests for private conversations and the like; I cannot now maintain my private life as I did in the past. For if these duties now take up the entire day—and sometimes even part of the night—then my friends should understand that there is no time left for private conversations. It seems that this is very, very poorly understood. But on the other hand, there is a good way to remedy this—I admit—harmful situation: it would consist in all of us truly working together, as much as is in our power, on the tasks of the anthroposophical movement. For the fact that individuals are so overburdened now is merely the result of having so few people who are truly active participants. Of course, this, too, is easily misunderstood, for it is usually interpreted to mean that everyone should try to contribute as much as possible in whatever way suits them best. But one must simply risk this misunderstanding when one has to emphasize the truth that we have too many contributors. In the positions we have been able to create, we do not have too few, but too many—too many, in many respects. But what matters is not that everyone jostles for what has already been created, but that an opportunity be created to work truly and energetically by continually creating more and more. Only if we view the matter in this way can we move forward in the right way.

[ 28 ] As I said, it pains me immensely, but it is simply an absolute necessity that I must reject many of my personal wishes. And, my dear friends, many matters that are personal can indeed be handled differently until more favorable times return. There is a widespread tendency among us to cling to the past—to try, almost forcefully, to restore conditions that were once quite good but can no longer exist—until we begin to work more energetically on the tasks that are now absolutely necessary, from morning till night, as long as time allows, and even beyond. We must first come to an understanding on these matters; otherwise, we will certainly not make any headway within our movement. There is far too little awareness that mutual assistance and consultation are also necessary given the current expansion of the movement. Imagine if, every time I’m here in Stuttgart, I were to have private conversations with each and every one of you sitting here—how could we then possibly solve the tasks that are currently before us? Some may say they don’t quite understand these things, but there will also be those here who already know why I must say these things.