The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Sixth Lecture

[ 1 ] In recent days, I have endeavored to show how Western civilization came into being, how a significant, momentous turning point in human development can be traced to the 4th century A.D., and it has been necessary to point out how Greek civilization gradually developed, as it were, toward this twilight, how Central and Western European civilization then arose from entirely different impulses, and how the concept of Christianity took shape under these influences. Let us first attempt to highlight the relevant facts once more from a somewhat different perspective. Christianity arose in the Western Orient out of the Mystery of Golgotha. Oriental culture, in its distinctive character, was already in a state of decline. The ancient primordial wisdom was present in its final phases in what emerged in the Near East and Greece as Gnosis. This Gnosis was, after all, still a form of wisdom that synthesized in the most diverse ways the phenomena of the world and nature as they presented themselves to human beings. Yet, in relation to the immediate, intuitive insights into the spiritual world that actually underlay Eastern development, it already possessed a character that was, one might say, more intellectual and rational. The spiritual life that had permeated all human perception in the ancient Orient was no longer present. And it was actually from the last remnants of the ancient primordial wisdom that people sought to piece together that philosophical-human perspective, which they applied as a treasure of wisdom in order to understand the Mystery of Golgotha. What lay at the heart of the Mystery of Golgotha was clothed in the wisdom that had been preserved and carried over from the Orient into Greek civilization. Now let us consider this wisdom entirely in the sense of spiritual science. If we wish to consider the human being as he once devoted himself to this wisdom, we find that in the ancient Orient the essential point was that the human being viewed the world through what his astral body was working within him—through what he could experience in his soul via his astral body—even after the sensory soul, the intellectual soul, and the emotional soul had developed. It was the astral body that worked within these soul members of the human being and enabled him to actually turn his gaze away from earthly phenomena and to clearly perceive what penetrates from the cosmos in the spiritual-super-sensible realm. Humanity did not yet have an “I”-based view of the world. The “I” spoke only faintly. The “I” was not yet a real question for humanity. Humanity lived in the astral realm, and within this astral realm, it still lived in a certain harmony with the worldly phenomena surrounding it. In a sense, the truly mysterious world for them was the one they saw with their eyes—the one that unfolded as the human world around them. In contrast, the comprehensible world for them was the supersensible world of the gods, the world in which spiritual beings existed. Human beings looked toward these spiritual beings, toward their actions, toward their destinies. This was, after all, the essence of the worldview of the ancient Orient: that one’s gaze was directed toward these spiritual worlds. It was from these spiritual worlds that people sought to understand the sensory world.

[ 2 ] Today, as members of our civilization, we take the opposite standpoint. The sensory-physical world is given to us, and from it we seek to comprehend the spiritual world in some way—if we want to do so at all, if we do not reject it, if we do not remain stuck in mere materialism. We regard the material world as a given. The ancient Oriental regarded the spiritual world as a given. From the material world, we seek to glean something in order to understand the wonder of phenomena, the purposefulness of the structure of organisms, and so on; and from this physical-sensory environment, we seek to prove the existence of the supersensible. The ancient Oriental sought to understand the physical-sensory environment through the supersensible, spiritual world given to him. From it he sought to receive the light—and indeed he did receive it—and without it, the physical-sensory world was for him nothing but darkness and dread. And so he also perceived that which he felt as his innermost being—still entirely permeated by the astral body—as having emerged from the spiritual worlds. He did not say to himself: “I have grown out of earthly life”—rather, he said: “I have grown out of the divine-spiritual being; I have descended from divine-spiritual worlds, and the best thing I carry within me is the memory of these divine-spiritual worlds.” Even Plato, the philosopher, speaks of how human beings possess insights and memories from their pre-existing life—the life they led before descending into the physical-sensory world. Human beings regarded their “I” entirely as a ray emanating from the light of the supersensory world. For them, the sensory world was a mystery, not the supersensory world.

[ 3 ] This view had then found its way into Greece. The Greeks already felt themselves in their bodies, but they did not yet feel anything within their bodies that could particularly explain that body. They still held onto the traditions of the ancient Orient. In a certain sense, they viewed themselves as something that had descended from the spiritual worlds, but which, in a certain sense, had already lost consciousness of those spiritual worlds. It is, in fact, the final phase of Eastern wisdom that emerged in Greece. And it was from this worldview that the Mystery of Golgotha was to be understood. For this mystery presented humanity with the great problem, this immense problem of life: How could the supermundane, the supersensible being, the cosmic being—Christ—find his place within the human body? —The permeation of Jesus by Christ—that was the great problem, and we see it shining through everywhere in Gnostic endeavors. But human beings, of their own accord, had no such understanding of the connection between the supersensible aspect of their own being and the sensory-physical aspect of that same being; and because they lacked, in and of themselves, the knowledge of the connection between the spiritual-soul aspect and the bodily-physical aspect, the Mystery of Golgotha became, precisely for those influenced by the Greek worldview, an insoluble problem, but a problem with which Greek civilization wrestled, devoting its finest wisdom to it. History has handed down far too little of what actually took place in terms of spiritual struggles.

[ 4 ] I have pointed out that Gnostic literature has, in fact, been eradicated. If this Gnostic literature were still in existence, one would see in it this tragic struggle to understand the coexistence of the supernatural Christ with the physical Jesus; one would see the development of this extraordinarily profound problem. But this struggle has been wiped out. An end was put to this struggle by the sober, abstract nature that emanated from Roman Catholicism, which only manages—I would say—by whipping up emotions to infuse inner life into its abstractions. Gnosticism was overwhelmed, and dogmatics and council decrees took its place. The profound insights of the East, which had nothing to do with legalism, were imbued with a form that Christianity assumed in the more Western world—the Western world of that time, the Roman world.

[ 5 ] Christianity emerged from this Roman tradition by, so to speak, being “legalized”—as legal concepts permeated every aspect of it and Roman concepts of the state spread throughout Christianity. Christianity took on the form of the Roman state, and we see the Christian capital of Rome emerge from what was once the capital of the world, Rome. We see how this Christian Rome adopts from ancient Rome the specific views on how to govern people and how to extend one’s rule over them. We see a kind of ecclesiastical imperialism spreading as the essence of Christianity is poured into the Roman form of government. What had been cast into forms of spiritual knowledge was incorporated into a legal-human form of government. For the first time, Christianity and external statecraft were, in a certain sense, forged together, and it was in this form that Christianity then spread. There are such profound forces in Christianity, such powerful impulses, that they could naturally remain active and continue to exert their influence, even though they had been cast into the form of the Roman state. And so, as this Roman form of government took hold of the Western world, the simple narratives—the actual events that took place in Palestine—were able to be preserved alongside it.

[ 6 ] But in this Western world, people were prepared for Christianity in a very special way—and they were prepared in such a way that human beings perceived themselves from their physical nature and felt their “I” from their physical nature. The difference became apparent when, as it were, Christianity passed through the Greek world and that Greek world began to fade away; the enormous difference became evident between this Greek Christianity and the Christianity that then became the actual state Christianity—the Christianity of domination, Roman Christianity. And then, coming more from the north, that form of Christianity emerged which was instilled into the northern peoples—those whom the Greeks and Romans had called “barbarians”—into those northern peoples who, by their very nature, I would say, by their very nature, felt their “I” as the sum of their being and understood themselves through the whole human being in the physical-sensual realm—through the human-physical-sensual embodiment of the “I”—and now also wanted to understand what had been passed down to them as a simple narrative of the events in Palestine. And so, in this barbaric world, the simple narrative of the events in Palestine clashed with what was a sense of the “I”—I might say, a sense of the “blood-I”—particularly in Central Europe and in Northern Europe. These things clashed. And people wanted to understand—from this human sense of “I”—they wanted to understand the simple narrative about the events in Palestine. They did not want to grasp its deeper meaning. They did not want to penetrate it with wisdom. They simply wanted to draw it into the physical-sensual-human realm.

[ 7 ] We see how, in the Heliand, these accounts of the events in Palestine appear to be fully humanized and drawn entirely into the European human world—into this “I”-centered world. We see how everything there is humanized, how there is no capacity—as there was in Greece—to penetrate the mystery of Golgotha with the treasure of wisdom. And the urge developed to portray the work of Christ Jesus in the world as mere human events, without any reference to the supersensible, humanizing these narratives more and more. And into this was thrust what spread dogmatically from the Roman-Christian Empire in the form of council decrees; like two worlds alien to one another, these intermingled: that Christianity which, so to speak, “Europeanized” the Palestinian narrative, and that Christianity which was a legalistic, Romanized form of Hellenism that had become abstract. This is what has lived on through the centuries, and only a few individuals were able to engage with it in the way I described yesterday regarding the sages who developed the concept of the Grail and who pointed out that the impulse of Christianity was once clothed in Eastern wisdom, but that the vessel of this Eastern conception—the Holy Grail— the Holy Grail, could only be brought to Europe by being held aloft above the earth by supernatural spirits, and only then was a hidden castle built for it—the Grail Castle on Montsalvatsch. But attached to this was also the idea that human beings could approach the wonders of the Holy Grail only by traversing impassable regions. Then these sages did not say: “Sixty miles is the circumference one must traverse through impassable terrain if one wishes to reach the wonders of the Grail”—but rather, they described in a much more esoteric way what this path to the Holy Grail is actually like; they said: “Oh, these people of Europe, they do not reach the Holy Grail, for the path they must take to reach the Holy Grail is as long as the path from birth to death; and only when people reach death—having traversed the path that is impassable for Europe, which stretches from birth to death—only then do they arrive at the Grail Castle on Montsalvatsch. — That was, in essence, the esoteric secret that was revealed to the disciple. It was revealed to the disciples—because the time had not yet dawned when people could see with clear consciousness how the spiritual world could be rediscovered—it was revealed to the disciples for this reason: that they can enter the Holy Grail Castle only in fleeting flashes of light. But it was particularly impressed upon them that they had to ask; that the time had come in human evolution when a person, if they do not ask—that is, if they do not develop their inner self, if they do not seek the impulse of truth from within themselves, if they remain passive—cannot come to an experience of their own self. — For human beings must find their “I” within their physical organization. And this “I,” which finds itself within the physical organization, must in turn raise itself up through its own power to see itself where even in the ancient Greek civilization this Self was perceived—in supersensible worlds. The “I” must first raise itself up again in order to recognize itself as a supersensible being. |

[ 8 ] In the ancient Orient, people could see what was taking place in the astral body, and in the astral body they could see the consequences of previous earthly lives. That is why they spoke of karma there. In Greece, this concept had already become blurred. People perceived world events only in a vague, astral way. That is why people spoke vaguely of fate, of “fatum.” This view of fate, of “fatum,” is merely a weakening, a dulling of the ancient Orient’s full, concrete conception of the human being’s passage through repeated earthly lives, the consequences of which were foreshadowed—albeit only instinctively— were foreshadowed in the astral body, so that one could speak of karma forming through repeated earthly lives, the consequences of which were precisely present in astral experience.

[ 9 ] Now the “I” experience began to move toward the West. But this sense of self was initially bound to the physical body. This sense of self was self-centered and closed in on itself. This sense of self initially lived in dullness; even though there was a strong impulse within it toward supersensible worlds, it lived in dullness; and Parzival, who goes on a pilgrimage for the Holy Grail, is portrayed to us as a human being in this state of dullness. One must certainly understand that when the cult of Mithras spread from the East to the West, it was rejected by the West and not understood. For the one who sat upon the bull—who was to become the conqueror of the lower forces—found himself to have emerged from those very lower forces. When Westerners saw Mithras riding the bull, they did not understand this being, for this being could not possibly be what the “I” perceives and experiences through its physical organization. Understanding of this riding Mithras faded and died out.

[ 10 ] One could say: All of this had to happen, because the “I” had to experience its impulse within the physical organism. The “I” had to bind itself firmly to the physical organization, but it must not become rigid in this sense of being firmly anchored within the physical organization. — It was a powerful reaction to the wisdom traditions of the East when, in the West, there was an ever-increasing emphasis on what develops out of the purely physical. This reaction was inevitable. All sorts of factors also came together in Europe to make this reaction quite strong. But it was not allowed to extend into this spiritual striving for more than a few centuries. A new spirituality did indeed emerge then, but it was an abstract spirituality, a sublimated spirituality, a filtered spirituality dating from the first third of the 15th century.

[ 11 ] People have taken up physical astronomy, as well as physical medicine, and initially had to draw this inspiration from this physically sensed “I” impulse. But it must not become rigid within European civilization if that civilization is to avoid decline. And there are already enough forces of decline present—remnants that should remain just that, and which should be recognized as such. One need only consider how modern theology in particular—as I have often emphasized—has lost the ability to comprehend Christ, how it has increasingly come to completely earthenize Christ Jesus, to completely humanize him, how it has placed the “simple man from Nazareth” in the place of Christ Jesus, and how, within a materialistically structured hierarchy rooted in Romanism, the living spirituality through which the Mystery of Golgotha can truly be brought close to human beings has been increasingly lost. And observe how a science has developed in recent times that seeks to comprehend everything that is external, yet refuses to penetrate to the core of the human being. And one sees how, in the wake of this science, impulses arise in social life that seek only to bring about human physical order and do not seek to permeate human physical orders with that which is the divine-spiritual, the supersensible-spiritual principle.

[ 12 ] It is always just as if a single glimmer of light were to remain in human souls—in some human souls. ‘When a ray of what still lives within them from this astral realm mingles with the ego, they experience such glimmers of light; and it is one of the most striking phenomena of modern Europe when we see how a powerful reminder shines forth from the East in the philosophy of religion—in, I might say, in Soloviev’s philosophy of religion steeped in Eastern opulence—how something of this shines forth: that a supersensible-spiritual element must permeate the earthly social order. We see, as it were, how this Soloviev dreams of a kind of Christ-State. He is able to dream of this Christ-State because within him lie the last remnants of an astral, subjective experience that radiates through the “I.”

[ 13 ] Let us set these dreams of a thoroughly Christianized state side by side with what has now been established in the East through the rejection of all that is spiritual—that which harbors within itself only forces of decline—a tremendous, a colossal contrast! The world ought to take notice of such a colossal contrast. And if we had enough distance today to see these things, we would place on one side the advocate of the Christianized state, of the Christianized social structure, Soloviev; we would regard him as someone who was still inspired by an Eastern spirit and who, in a sense, cast a final spark into this ossifying Europe to enliven it from this perspective. One could then calmly place Tsar Nicholas or his predecessors on one side and Tsar Lenin on the other, for the fact that they speak differently into the course of human development does not, in essence, constitute their difference. What matters is only what world-shaping forces live within them, and the same force lives in Lenin as in the Russian tsar; there is, in essence, no particular difference. It is, of course, difficult to find one’s bearings amid these surging, conflicting forces that reach from antiquity into European civilization. At first, it is a tumult, and what must be sought is a firm direction. This firm direction can be found in nothing other than the elevation of the “I” to a spiritual grasp of the world. The Christian impulse must be reborn in a spiritual understanding of the world. What has been sought for the external world since the first third of the 15th century must now be sought for the human being; the whole human being must be understood in relation to the world. Understanding the world and understanding humanity must be viewed in harmony. We must understand the Earth’s development in phases, in metamorphoses. We must see earlier incarnations of our Earth, but we must not look toward primordial nebulae devoid of human life. We must look to Saturn, the Sun, and the Moon, which were already imbued with human presence; we must look at how the present form of human being emerged from the forms of the Earth’s earlier metamorphoses, and how the human form was already active there in an earlier phase. We must recognize the human being in the world, and from this recognition of the human being in the world, an understanding of the Mystery of Golgotha will in turn be able to spring forth. People must learn to understand why the area around the Grail Castle is impassable, why the path between birth and death is impassable. And when they understand why it is impassable, when they understand that the “I” now perceives itself within it from within the physical organization, when they feel how impossible mere physical astronomy is, when they feel how impossible mere physical medicine is, then they will blaze their own trails, then they will bring into this hitherto impassable life between birth and death something that arises through the human being’s own soul work. From the very substance of the soul and the spirit, the tools must be created by which the first spadefuls are turned in that field—which must be a spiritual one—leading to the Grail Castle, to the mystery of the bread and the blood, to the fulfillment of the words: “Do this in remembrance of me.”—For this remembrance has been forgotten; what lives in the words “Do this in remembrance of me” has become unconscious. For one does this in remembrance of the great moment on Golgotha when one understands, in the symbol of the bread, that is, of that which develops from the earth through the synthesis of cosmic forces, and when one understands how to comprehend the world through a cosmology and astronomy that have been re-spiritualized, and when one learns to understand the human being from that which is his essence—that is, the place where the spiritual intervenes directly within him—and when one understands the mystery of the blood. The path to the Holy Grail must be found through work on the inner life of human souls. This is a task of knowledge; it is a social task. But it is also a task that is, to the greatest extent, hated in the present day.

[ 14 ] For what people develop within themselves as a result of being immersed in the “I-education” of Western civilization is, above all, a longing to remain passive in their inner lives, to refuse to allow worldly existence to provide them with what should propel their souls forward. The active grasping of the soul’s powers, the inner experience—which need not necessarily be an occult development, but rather the experience of the soul in general—is precisely what humanity in Europe does not want, as it seeks to continue what was taken for granted in the era immediately preceding our own: the development of the “I,” which, however, leads into the most blatant egoism, into the blindest rage of the instincts, when it is extended beyond its proper time. This sense of the “I,” extending beyond its proper time, has initially found its way into national chauvinisms; it appears in national chauvinisms, and from these chauvinisms emerge the spirits that seek to keep the path to the Holy Grail impassable. But the obligation, after all, is to do everything that can be done to call human souls to activity, both in the realm of knowledge and in the social sphere. Yet against such a call rise precisely all those forces that are filled with hatred toward this activity of the soul. Have people not been taught long enough to say to themselves: We should regard the soul’s own work to free itself from guilt as heretical; we should properly develop a sense of sin and guilt, for we are not to advance through our own efforts, but are to be redeemed through Christ in passivity?

[ 15 ] One fails to recognize Christ if one does not see him as the cosmic force that unites itself completely with us when we work our way toward him through questions and inner activity. And everywhere today one sees forces rising up—from the denominations, from theology, from those who have always been connected to theology, from the military, from academia—everywhere one sees those forces rising up today that seek to block the path of activity.

[ 16 ] I have long had to point out that this is the case, and for a long time I have had to say again and again: What is rising as hostile forces will become ever more intense; and to this day, that has certainly come to pass. And it is by no means possible to say today that this opposition has reached its peak. This opposition is still far from reaching its peak. This opposition possesses a strong organizing power in bringing together all that which, though in reality destined for decline, can—in its very decline—definitely hold back, for the time being, that which works with the forces of ascent. In contrast, the forces working toward the activity of the soul are weak today. Those forces are weak which, through an understanding of the spiritual world, seek to make the forces of ascent the very forces of their own soul. The world has taken on an Ahrimanic character. For it was bound to happen that the “I,” by grasping itself in the physical realm—if it does not, at the right time, rise to a spiritual self-realization as a spiritual being—would, if it remains in the physical realm, be seized by the Ahrimanic forces. And we see this seizing by the Ahrimanic forces; we see it in the fact that—however much the slumbering souls may not want to admit it—a veritable inclination toward evil is asserting itself everywhere today. A tendency toward evil can indeed be clearly perceived, particularly in the manner of the campaign waged, for example, against anthroposophical spiritual science and everything associated with it. From the murkiest puddles are drawn the very things with which certain figures—who even enjoy a scientific or theological reputation in the world—are fighting against anthroposophical spiritual science today. No one asks for the truth; instead, they look only to see which slander these figures find more appealing, which slander might be more to their liking; humanity is strongly possessed by the forces of evil, by a love of evil. And anyone today who does not understand how to reckon with this love of evil—with the ever-increasing growth of this very love of evil in the struggle against anthroposophical spiritual science—will be unable to develop within themselves a feeling or an insight into all the opposing forces and powers that are yet to arise. For years I have been speaking of this ever-increasing trend. And even if, at first, nothing more can be attained than a clear sense of it, then at least this clear sense—which is, after all, a power in itself—must be maintained. One must look into the world as it surrounds us today, and one must see with a sober eye what is actually at stake in such matters—such as the slander now emerging from our opponents, which makes all the more of an impression the murkier the puddles from which it springs.

[ 17 ] It is indeed necessary to familiarize oneself with this particular trait—which will become increasingly prevalent—this love of evil, and not to keep, in a complacent manner, indulging in excuses that the opponents are convinced of these things. Do you really believe that in a person such as the one who has emerged as the latest opponent of anthroposophical spiritual science, do you really believe that there is any possibility of inner conviction at all? — There is absolutely no possibility of inner conviction in him. He acts from entirely different motives. And it is, I would say, a clever move to look specifically in this direction—to look for that way of viewing things which is based precisely on deceiving the opponent. When is one a better commander? — When one is better able to deceive the opponent! — But when this principle is applied to the struggle for truth, then this struggle becomes a struggle of lies—the personified lie against the truth. And one must come to terms with the fact that this battle of the personified lie against the truth is capable of anything—that it will seek to take away from us precisely what we have tried and are trying to gain, namely external support, in order to find bearers of the truth within civilization. It is no exaggeration to say: Everything that exists as the “Waldorf School” and so on—including this building—is met by the deepest, most profound longing in the world to take it away from us! And if we are not attentive to this, if we do not even develop a sense within ourselves of the entire nature of this mode of struggle, then we will simply remain sleeping souls; then we will not grasp with inner vigilance that which seeks to well up through anthroposophical spiritual science.

[ 18 ] Strictly speaking, we should not have reached the point where we are surprised that our opponents could have become what they are; for this could have been foreseen long ago. And today we are certainly under the impression that we have too few individuals who are willing to become active champions of our spiritual movement. In general, it is still easier for people today to act through violence, power, and injustice than through freedom. The truth that is to be proclaimed through anthroposophical spiritual science can rely only on human freedom. It must find those who ask questions. And one must not say at all: Why does this truth not possess, in and of itself, the power through divine-spiritual force to compel souls? — It does not want to do that; it cannot. Rather, because it will always regard inner freedom—the freedom of the human being in general—as the most inviolable thing of all. If a person is to come to anthroposophical spiritual science through their own judgment, they must become a seeker; they must convince themselves within the innermost freedom of judgment. The word of spiritual truth is to be spoken to them; they must convince themselves. If they are to be active participants in social life, they must do so out of the innermost impulse of their hearts. Those who belong to anthroposophical spiritual science in the true sense of the word must become questioners.

[ 19 ] What do we see on the opposing side? — Do not think that only those who are in some way one-sided in their beliefs are organizing themselves there. No, in Stuttgart, a sermon is being preached in a Catholic church: “Go in to hear Mr. von Gleich’s lecture, for through it you can strengthen your Catholic souls; you can overcome the enemies of your Catholic souls!”—And the Catholic souls go in; the Catholic General von Gleich gives a lecture and concludes with a Lutheran hymn! What a beautiful union on both sides—opponents are organizing together! — It doesn’t matter whether they are in any way united in their faith or their opinions.

[ 20 ] For us, however, what matters is the strength to stand firm on the ground we recognize as right. Yes, no stone will be left unturned in an effort to undermine this ground—of that you can be certain. I had to say this once more, particularly in light of the reflections on the course of European civilization, for it is necessary that at least the intention arise to stand firm on the ground that we must recognize as the right one. And it is necessary that we among ourselves not succumb to the all-too-popular illusions about our adversaries. They are setting out to undermine our foundation. It is up to us to work as hard as we possibly can, and even if the ground were to be undermined and we were to fall into the chasm, our work would still have to be such that it finds its spiritual path through the world. For what is happening there is the final convulsion of a world in decline; but even if it is the final convulsion, it can still lash out like a madman; one can lose one’s life in the midst of this frenzied lashing about. Therefore, we must at least recognize the impulses driving this frenzied lashing about. Nothing will be achieved with meager means; we must appeal to the greater forces. Let us strive to be worthy of such an appeal!

[ 21 ] I had to include this so that people would realize that we are at an important, significant, and decisive moment, and that we need to consider how we can find the strength to get through it.