Mystery Knowledge & Mystery Centers
GA 232
2 December 1923, Dornach
6. The Ephesian Mysteries Of Artemis
When man today speaks of the word, he means, as a rule, only the weak human word which has so little significance in comparison with the majesty of the Universe indicated at the beginning of St. John’s Gospel with the momentous words: In the beginning was the Word, the Logos, and the Word was with God, and a God was the Word. Anyone who meditates on this most significant opening of St. John’s Gospel must ask himself: What does it mean, when the Word is placed at the primal beginning of all things? What is meant by the Logos, the Word? And how is this connected with our trivial human words?
The name of John is also connected with the city of Ephesus, and Imaginative perception of the world’s history, the significant saying, Tn the primal beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and a God was the Logos’, will lead one again and again, by an inner path, back to the ancient Temple of Diana at Ephesus. For one who has attained a certain degree of Initiation, the enigma presented in the first verses of St. John’s Gospel points to the Mysteries of the Temple of Diana, at Ephesus. And so it must seem to him that knowledge of the Mysteries of Ephesus will help him to understand the beginning of St. John’s Gospel.
Prepared by what we have heard in the last two lectures, let us think of the Mysteries of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus as they were six or seven centuries before the birth of Christianity, or even earlier, and of what was done in this sanctuary that was held to be so holy by the men of that olden time. We find that the instruction given in the Mysteries at Ephesus was primarily concerned with the processes active in human speech. We can learn—not from any historical account, for the barbarism of humanity takes good care that such records are destroyed—we can learn from the Akashic Record, that thought-record in the ether and accessible to spiritual sight, where the events of world-history are inscribed, from this record we can learn of the teachings given in these Ephesian Mysteries. And the Akashic Record reveals again and again how the teacher directed the attention of the pupil to human speech. Again and again he was exhorted: Learn to feel in your own instrument of speech what it is that takes place there when you speak!
The processes at work in speech elude crude perception, for they are delicate and intimate. But let us consider first of all the external aspect of speech, for it was from this that the instruction given in these Mysteries took its start. The attention of the pupil was first directed to the way in which the word sounds forth from the mouth. He was told, over and over again: Mark well what you feel when the word sounds forth from your mouth! He was then taught to notice how something of the spoken word turns upwards in order to receive the thought in the head; while something from the same word takes its way downwards in man, in order that the feeling-content may be experienced inwardly.
Again and again the pupil was instructed to force his speech through the larynx, carrying it to its extreme limits, and thereby to perceive the ebb and flow manifest in the word as it is uttered. ‘I am, I am not’—a positive assertion and a negative assertion—these he had to utter as articulately as possible and then to observe how, in the words ‘I am’, the ascending upwards is felt, while in the ‘I am not’ there is rather the feeling of pressing downwards.
The attention of the pupil was then turned more towards the intimate, feelings and experiences connected with the word. He became aware that from the word something like warmth mounts up towards the head; and this warmth, this fire, grasps the thought. And there is also a flowing downwards as it were of a watery element, pouring itself out downwards, like a glandular secretion in the human organism. Thus it was made clear to the pupil in the Ephesian Mysteries: this is how man makes use of the air in order to let the word sound forth; but in the act of speaking the air transforms itself, into the next element, into fire, into warmth, draws down the thought from the heights of the head, and embodies it in itself. And again, another change ensues: not only is there a sending upwards of fire, but a sending downwards of the fluid element contained in the word: the air trickles down as it were like a glandular secretion, as water, as a fluidic element. By means of this latter process the word becomes inwardly perceptible; it can be felt inwardly.

The pupil was then led into the real secret of speech. But this secret is connected with the secret of Man. This secret of Man is today hidden from the scientists, inasmuch as science places at the summit of all thought the incredible caricature of a truth, namely, the so-called law of the conservation of energy and of matter. In man, matter is continually being transformed. It does not endure. For instance, the air that forces its way out of the throat is transformed in the process into the next higher element, fire; and again also into the water-element—Fire, Water; Fire, Water.
The pupil at Ephesus came to understand how, when he spoke, a wave went forth from his mouth: Fire, Water; Fire, Water. This was nothing more or less than the striving upward of the word towards thought, and the trickling downward of the word towards feeling. Thus are thought and feeling interwoven in man’s speech, inasmuch as the living wave of speech, beginning as air, first rarefies to fire, then densifies to water, and so on, again and again.
Fire => Thought, Water => Feeling, Fire, Water
The great truth relating to his own speaking was brought home to the pupil in the Mysteries of Ephesus, in these words:
Speak, O Man, and thou
revealest through thyself
the Becoming of Worlds.1For the German original see end of lecture.
When the pupil came to the portal leading into the Mysteries, these were the words addressed to him:
Speak, O Man, and thou
revealest through thyself
the Becoming of Worlds.
And when he left the Mysteries, the words resounded to him in a different form:
World-Becoming reveals itself
through thee, O Man,
when thou speakest.
Then the pupil began to feel that he himself enveloped with his own body, as with a sheath, the Cosmic Secret which sounded from his breast and was contained in his speech.
All this was brought to the pupil as preparation for the really deeper secret. For this preparation enabled him to know how his own human nature is inwardly connected with the secret of the Cosmos. The saying ‘Know thyself!’ acquired a holy significance inasmuch as it was not uttered as theory but inwardly and solemnly felt and experienced.
Then, after the pupil had ennobled his being in this way, and was able to feel his manhood as a vessel enveloping the Cosmic Secret of the Cosmos, he could be led still further and come to know the power which spread the Secret over the wide spaces of the Cosmos.
Let me remind you here of what was said in the last lecture. I described a condition in the evolution of the Earth when the following occurred. We know that during this ancient period there was present in the Earth even then, as a substance essential for that stage of evolution, what we now know as opaque chalk such as is found, for instance, in the Jura mountains. In the chalk mountains, in the chalk of the Earth today, we have what is to be observed in that ancient period when the Earth was surrounded by what I called the ‘fluid albumen’. Cosmic forces worked into this fluid albumen, causing it to coagulate into certain definite forms; and while the Earth was in this condition a process took place resembling in a higher degree and in a denser substance what we know today as the rising of the mist and falling of the rain. The chalky element rose upwards and permeated what had hardened in the fluid albumen, so that these forms acquired a bony content. The result was that the animal came into being in the course of Earth-evolution. Through the spirituality contained in the chalk the animals were drawn down, as it were, out of the still albuminous atmosphere.

I also said that if a man unites his being with the metallic element, the ‘metallity’ of the Earth, he can inwardly feel and experience; everything that happened in that remote past, he can feel it in his own being, as a memory. At that stage of evolution man did not yet feel himself to be a little human being enclosed in his skin; he felt that he embraced the whole earthly sphere. To put it rather grotesquely, I should say: man felt that his head embraced the whole Earth-planet.
The processes described in the last lecture were felt by man to be taking place in himself. But how? Everything I have described to you here as the rising of the chalk, the uniting of this chalk with the coagulated albumen and then the descent of the animal-nature on to the Earth—all this was experienced by man at that time in such a way that he heard it. You must try to imagine this. He experienced it inwardly, and in so doing he heard it. The forms that arose when the chalk filled out the coagulated albumen and made it bony and gristly—all that then took shape, was ‘felt’ in the ear, it was audible. The Cosmic Mystery was heard.
And it is the same today, when man learns in memory about the past of the Earth the memory that is kindled by the metals. It is as if he hears it. And in the sound the stream of cosmic happenings fives and weaves.
What is it that man hears? What is revealed, what is disclosed to him? The stream of cosmic happenings reveals itself as the Word of the World, as the Logos. It is the Logos, the Word of the World, that resounds in the arising and falling of the chalk. And when man is able to perceive and understand this language, he learns something else besides.
What modern anatomy says about a human or an animal skeleton is dreadfully external. But when, with inner mindfulness of the reality of Nature and of Spirit we look at a skeleton, what do we feel? We say to ourselves: Do not merely look at it. It is terrible merely to look at it as it stands there with its forms: the spinal column with its wonderfully shaped, intersecting vertebrae, with the ribs bending and curving forwards with all the wonderful articulation as the vertebrae are metamorphosed into the bones of tire skull; and that even more mysterious articulation where the ribs, bending to embrace the breast from either side, then with a sharp turn form themselves again to the bones of the arm and the bones of the leg! Confronted with this mystery of the skeleton, we can do no other than say to ourselves: Do not merely look, but listen. Listen how one bone transforms itself into another. Listen—for it speaks!
At this point let me make a personal remark. When with a feeling for these things we go into a natural history Museum, we are confronted by something really miraculous. For there we have a collection of what are really musical instruments forming a mighty orchestra and resounding in the most wonderful way. I experienced this very deeply when I once visited the Museum in Trieste. There, owing to a particular arrangement—made quite instinctively—of the animal skeletons, one could hear resound, one after the other, at one end of the animal the secrets of the Moon and at the other end the secrets of the Sun. The whole room was as though filled with the tones of Sun and planets. One could feel the connection between the skeleton—the bony-system living in the chalk—and that which once upon a time spoke to man out of the weaving Cosmos, when he himself was one with this Cosmos, with the secret of the Universe, which is at the same time the secret of Man himself.
The beings which came into existence at that time—the animal beings to begin with—spoke forth what they are; for the animal-nature lived in the Logos, in the sounding Mystery of the World. There were not two separate phenomena to be perceived. One did not perceive the animals, and then in some way or other the inner nature of the animals. The animals themselves, living and moving in their own essential being—that was what spoke.
The pupil of the Ephesian Mysteries could take into his soul, into his heart, in the right way for that ancient time, what could then be revealed to him concerning the primal Beginning, when the Word, the Logos, was moving and weaving as the living essence of all things. The pupil could receive it because he had been prepared by having ennobled and sublimated his human nature, in that he felt himself to be a vessel for the faint reflection of the Cosmic Mystery which lay in the sounding of his own speech.
And now let us consider how the evolutionary process has passed, as it were from one level to another. In the chalk element there was still something perfectly fluid. It rose as vapour, fell again as drops of rain. It was fluid. As it rose it was transmuted into Air. When it descended it was changed into Earth, and so we have, firstly Water, then Air and Earth. Now this is one level deeper than in the human copy of it: Air, Warmth, Water. In those primeval times the still fluid chalk rarefied to Air and condensed to Earth; just as in our larynx today the Air rarefies to Warmth and condenses to Water. And thereby it is possible for human beings to encompass this Cosmic Mystery in miniature. When it was still the mighty Maya of the Cosmos it was at a deeper level. The Earth densified everything. The chalk became denser, and so on. We human beings would not have been able to receive the Cosmic Mystery in this form, we could not have held it even in miniature. This was possible for us only because it rose one stage higher, from Water to Air; and therewith it begins to surge upwards into Warmth and downwards into Water—which is now the denser element.
Thus did the great Macrocosmic Mystery become the Microcosmic Mystery of human speech. It is this Macrocosmic Mystery, to which the beginning of St. John’s Gospel points. Tn the primal, beginning was the Word, the Logos, and the Word was with God, and a God was the Word.’ For that was still a living tradition in Ephesus, at the time when the Evangelist, the writer of St. John’s Gospel, could read there in the Akashic Record that for which his heart yearned namely, the right wording in which to clothe what he had to say to mankind concerning the secret of Cosmic Evolution.
But we can go a stage further. We can remind ourselves of what was said in the last lecture, namely that preceding the chalk there was the silica, which appears today in quartz. In this there appeared the plant-forms as I have described them—those great cloud-forms greening and fading away. And if, as I said, a man had been able at that time to look out into the wide spaces of the Cosmos, he would have seen this evolution of the animal nature, he would have seen, too, those primeval plants greening and passing away. All this was an inner experience in man. He perceived it as belonging to his own being. Nor was this all. For while he heard as a living inner experience the ‘sounding’ of the animal-nature coming into being, he could also in a certain sense accompany inwardly what he heard; as in his own head, in his breast, in his heart, he ascended with the words through the Warmth to grasp the element of Thought, so he could accompany what he heard resounding from the creation of the animals and follow what was experienced in the evolution of the plants.
This was the strange thing, my dear friends. Man could experience the weaving and working of the creation of the animals in the rarefying and descending chalk. And when, going further, knowledge came of what was in the silica, the plant-beings becoming green and again losing colour, then the Cosmic Word became Cosmic Thought; through the plant living in the silicious element Thought was added to the resounding Word.
We take a step upwards and Cosmic Thought is added to the sounding Logos, just as today, when speech goes out on a wave of Fire, Water, Fire Water, in the element of Fire the Thought is grasped by the resounding word.
Even today, if you study how to deal with certain pathological conditions connected with the sense-organs of the head, or with the sense-organs in general, you will learn of the healing effects of silica. Silica then appears to you as the Thought-element among the secrets of the Cosmos and you behold it as such in the greening and fading of the original plant-forms. Was I not able to say that through it the Earth perceives the whole structure of the Cosmos? In a wonderful way there is expressed in present-day man, microcosmically, that which once was macrocosmic, that which once was the weaving and moving, the very coming-into-being, of the Cosmos.
Just think for a moment how man lived then, lived still at one with the Cosmos, in unity with the Cosmos. When a man thinks today he has to picture himself isolated in his head. Inside his head are his thoughts, and the words come forth from there. The Cosmos is outside; words can only point to the Cosmos, thoughts can only mirror the Cosmos. It was not so when man was still one with the Macrocosm. Then he experienced the Cosmos as though it were within himself. The Word was his environment; and Thought was that which permeated and streamed through this environment. Man listened; and what he heard was World, was Cosmos. He looked upwards from what he heard, but he looked upwards within himself. The Word was first Tone. The Word was first something which struggled, as it were, for the solution of its own riddle. In the creation of the animal something that struggled for a solution was revealed. The animal kingdom arose within the chalk as a question. Man turned to the silica; he looked into the silica, and there the plant-creation gave the answer; the silica gave the answer to the riddle set by the animal creation. It was the beings themselves who solved each other’s riddles. One being, in this case the animal, put the question. The other being, in this case the plant, gave the answer. The whole Cosmos became Speech.
This is the reality contained in the words at the beginning of the Gospel of St. John. We are pointed back to a primal beginning of everything we see all the time around us today. In this primal Beginning, in this Principle, was the Word, and the Word was with God, and a God was the Word, for it was the creative essence in everything.
It is really the case that in the teaching concerning the Primal Word given to the pupils of the Mysteries at Ephesus lies that which afterwards led to the beginning of St. John’s Gospel. And here let me say that the time is fully ripe for anthroposophists to turn their attention to these secrets which rest in the womb of the Ages. For you see, in a very particular and special sense, the Building that stood here on the Dornach hill, the Goetheanum, had become the central point of anthroposophical striving. The pain in us today must live on further as pain, and will do so in everyone who was able to feel what the Goetheanum was intended to be. But whatever takes place in the physical world around us, that, my dear friends, for one who is striving upwards in his knowledge towards the Spiritual, must be at the same time an external revelation, a picture of something deeper, something spiritual. If, on the one hand, we have to experience this pain, then we, as human beings striving for spiritual knowledge, must nevertheless be able to turn what has happened into an opportunity for looking into an ever-deepening revelation. This Goetheanum was truly a place in which one longed to speak, in which one did speak again and again, of the things that are connected with the beginning of St. John’s Gospel: In the beginning was the Word, the Logos, and the Word was with God and a God was the Word.
The Goetheanum went up in flames of fire; and this terrible picture of the burning Goetheanum stands before us. Out of the pain can be born the demand and the call to look ever more deeply into that which is always there if only our thought is strong enough to see it, the call to look ever more deeply into the burning Goetheanum as it stood there in the flames of that New Year’s Eve. Although this was such a painful event, it was nevertheless one which can lead us into greater and greater depths of knowledge. Something was to have been founded there, something that had a connection with the Gospel of St. John. In a certain sense we may say that this placed itself into the consuming, burning flames, it was borne upwards in the flames. And mighty indeed is the impulse that can lay hold of us, to let those flames prompt us to look through them to other flames, to the flames that once upon a time consumed the Temple at Ephesus. Let that be a challenge to us to seek a meaning, a significance, for what is contained in the beginning of St. John’s Gospel. Urged on by these painful but holy impulses, let us look back from that Gospel to the Temple at Ephesus which was also burnt down, long ago; and then the Goetheanum flames which speak so painfully and so eloquently, will serve to remind us of what streamed into the Akashic Records with the flames of the burning Ephesian Temple. When we turn our eyes to that tragic night, to the flames of the burning Goetheanum, did we not see, do we not still see, the molten metals of the musical instruments? And have we not within the flames these metals of the musical instruments uttering in clear tones their holy speech, enchanting into the flames the most marvellous colours, eloquent colours, colours that speak, colours that are akin to the metals? Through union with the metals there rises up within us something that is like memory in the earthly sphere. And this memory unites us with what was burned together with the Temple at Ephesus. Then, even as there is a connection between those two burnings, so the longing to learn the meaning of the opening words of St. John’s Gospel can link us to what was brought home again and again to the pupil at Ephesus: Study the mystery of Man in the little word, the Micrologos, in order to make yourself ripe to experience within yourself the mystery of the Macrologos!
Man is the Microcosm in relation to the world which is the Macrocosm, but he also bears within him the mysteries of the Cosmos. And we learn to understand the Cosmic Mystery contained in the first three verses of St. John’s Gospel when we bear in our hearts, in the right way, that which was spoken by the flames of the Goetheanum, densified as it were to a kind of script:
Behold the Logos
In the burning Fire;
Find the clue
In Diana’s House.
The Fire-Akasha of New Year’s Eve speaks these and many other words very clearly. And it demands of us that we understand the Micrologos in the Microcosmos, so that man may gain understanding for that from which his own being proceeds, for the Macrocosmos through the Macrologos.
Sechster Vortrag
Wenn der Mensch heute vom Worte redet, dann meint er ja gewöhnlich nur das schwache, im Grunde gegenüber der Majestät des Weltalls wenig bedeutende Menschenwort. Aber wir wissen, daß das JohannesEvangelium beginnt mit den bedeutungsvollen Worten: «Im Urbeginne war das Wort - der Logos. Und das Wort war bei Gott. Und ein Gott war das Wort.» Und wer nachsinnt über diesen bedeutungsvollen Eingang des Johannes-Evangeliums, der wird sich fragen müssen: Auf was wird da eigentlich verwiesen, wenn im Urbeginne aller Dinge das Wort angesetzt wird? Was ist eigentlich mit diesem Logos, mit diesem Worte gemeint? Und wie hängt dies Gemeinte zusammen mit dem schwachen, gegenüber der Majestät des Weltenalls unbeträchtlichen Menschenworte?
Nun ist ja auch der Name des Johannes verknüpft mit der Stadt Ephesus. Und derjenige, der, ausgerüstet mit dem imaginativen Anschauen der Weltgeschichte, herantritt an diese bedeutungsvollen Worte: «Im Urbeginne war der Logos. Und der Logos war bei Gott. Und ein Gott war der Logos», der wird durch einen inneren Weg immer und immer wiederum verwiesen nach dem alten Tempel der Diana in Ephesus. Und für dasjenige, was als ein Rätsel aus den ersten Versen des Johannes-Evangeliums herausklingt, für das wird gerade der in die Weltgeheimnisse bis zu einem gewissen Grade Eingeweihte verwiesen auf die Mysterien des Artemis-, des Dianen-Tempels in Ephesus. So daß es ihm scheinen muß, als ob aus der Erkundung der Mysterien von Ephesus etwas fließen könnte für das Verständnis des Beginnes des Johannes-Evangeliums.
Schauen wir deshalb heute einmal, ausgerüstet mit demjenigen, was wir gerade in den letzten zwei Tagen hier als Betrachtungen vor unsere Seele haben treten lassen, in die Geheimnisse, in die Mysterien des Dianen-Tempels in Ephesus hinein, schauen wir hinein für die Zeit des etwa sechsten oder siebenten vorchristlichen Jahrhunderts oder noch früher, um zu sehen, was da in dieser den Alten so geheiligten Stätte getrieben worden ist. Da finden wir, daß der Mysterien-Unterricht in Ephesus allerdings zunächst verwies auf dasjenige, was in der menschlichen Sprache erklingt. Wir können erfahren, nicht aus einer historischen Darstellung, für deren Vernichtung hat ja der Barbarismus der Menschheit genügend gesorgt, wohl aber aus der dem geistigen Erkennen zugänglichen, gedanklich-ätherischen Chronik, in welcher die Ereignisse des Weltgeschehens aufgezeichnet sind, wie es zugegangen ist innerhalb dieser ephesischen Mysterien.
Da tritt uns immer wieder und wieder für das Schauen entgegen, wie der Schüler von dem Lehrer verwiesen worden ist zunächst auf die menschliche Sprache; wie er ermahnt worden ist, immer wieder und wieder ermahnt worden ist: Fühle in deinen eigenen Sprachwerkzeugen, was da eigentlich vorgeht, indem du sprichst. - Die Vorgänge im Sprechen sind nicht durch grobe Empfindung wahrzunehmen, denn sie sind fein und intim. Aber bedenken wir zunächst das Äußerliche des Sprechens. Und von diesem Äußerlichen des Sprechens wurde ja bei den ephesischen Mysterien im Unterrichte zunächst ausgegangen.
Da wurde der Schüler aufmerksam gemacht, wie das Wort aus dem Munde erklingt. Es wurde ihm immer wieder und wiederum gesagt: Merke auf, was du empfindest, wenn das Wort aus dem Munde erklingt. - Und der Schüler sollte zunächst merken, wie gewissermaßen vom Worte etwas nach oben sich wendet, um den Gedanken desHauptes in sich aufzunehmen; und wie dann wiederum von demselben Worte etwas nach unten im Menschen sich wendet, um den Empfindungsgehalt des Wortes innerlich zu erleben.
Immer wieder und wieder wurde der Schüler darauf verwiesen, die äußersten Extreme des Sprechens sich durch die Kehle zu drängen und dabei das Auf- und Abwogende, das im Worte, das aus der Kehle dringt, wahrzunehmen ist, zu beobachten. Ich bin, ich bin nicht: eine positive, eine negative Behauptung sollte in einer möglichst artikulierten Weise der Schüler sich durch die Kehle dringen lassen und dann beobachten, wie gefühlt wird im: Ich bin - mehr das Aufsteigen, im: Ich bin nicht - das Abwärtsdringende.
Aber nun wurde der Schüler mehr noch auf die intimen inneren Empfindungen und Erlebnisse des Wortes verwiesen, wie er wahrnehmen konnte: Vom Worte steigt etwas auf wie Wärme nach dem Kopfe hin, und diese Wärme, dieses Feuer, fängt den Gedanken ab. Und nach unten fließt etwas wie wäßriges Element; das ergießt sich nach unten, wie sich eine Drüsenabsonderung in den Menschen ergießt. Und so bedient sich der Mensch - wurde dem Schüler in den ephesischen Mysterien klar gemacht — so bedient sich der Mensch der Luft, um das Wort erklingen zu lassen; aber die Luft verwandelt sich im Sprechen in das nächste Element, in das Feuer, in die Wärme und holt den Gedanken von den Höhen des Hauptes herunter, verleibt sich ihm ein. Und wiederum, indem ein Wechselzustand eintritt: Hinaufsenden des Feuers, Hinuntersenden desjenigen, was im Worte liegt, träufelt gewissermaßen die Luft wie eine Drüsenabsonderung nach unten als Wasser, als Flüssiges. Dadurch wird das Wort dem Menschen innerlich fühlbar. Das Wort träufelt als flüssiges Element nach unten.

Und dann wurde der Schüler eingeführt in das eigentliche Geheimnis des Sprechens. Aber dieses Geheimnis hängt zusammen mit dem Geheimnis des Menschen. Dieses Geheimnis des Menschen ist heute für wissenschaftliche Menschen geradezu verbarrikadiert; denn die Wissenschaft setzt die unglaublichste Karikatur einer Wahrheit heute an die Spitze von allem Nachdenken: nämlich das sogenannte Gesetz von der Erhaltung der Kraft und des Stoffes. Im Menschen wird der Stoff fortwährend umgewandelt. Er bleibt nicht. Dasjenige, was als Luft aus der Kehle dringt, verwandelt sich im Herausdringen abwechselnd in das nächste, höhere Element, in das Wärme- oder Feuerelement - und wiederum in das Wasserelement: Feuer, Wasser - Feuer, Wasser.
So wurde der Schüler zu Ephesus darauf aufmerksam gemacht: indem er spricht, dringt ein Wellenzug aus seinem Munde - Feuer, Wasser — Feuer, Wasser. Das aber ist nichts anderes, als das Hinauflangen des Wortes nach dem Gedanken, das Hinunterträufeln des Wortes nach dem Gefühle. Und so webt im Sprechen Gedanke und Gefühl, indem die lebendige Wellenbewegung des Sprechens als Luft zu Feuer sich verdünnt, zu Wasser sich verdichtet und so fort.
Feuer => Gedanke Wasser => Gefühl Feuer Wasser
Und das sollte der Schüler fühlen, wenn ihm im Mysterium zu Ephesus die große Wahrheit aus seinem eigenen Sprechen heraus vor die Seele geführt wurde:
Mensch, rede, und du
offenbarest durch dich
das Weltenwerden.
Ja, es war geradezu in Ephesus so, daß, wenn der Schüler zum Tore des Mysteriums hineinging, er immerzu ermahnt wurde mit diesem Spruch:
Mensch, rede, und du
offenbarest durch dich
das Weltenwerden.
Und wenn er wieder herausging, wurde ihm der Spruch in der anderen Form gesagt: Das Weltenwerden offenbart sich durch dich, o Mensch, wenn du redest. Und der Schüler fühlte allmählich, wie wenn er mit seinem eigenen Leibe als einer Hülle das Weltengeheimnis, das aus seiner Brust tönt und im Sprechen lebt, umschließen würde.
Es wurde dies als Vorbereitung für das eigentlichetiefere Geheimnis an den Schüler herangebracht. Denn dadurch kam der Schüler in die Lage, das eigene menschliche Wesen als innerlich mit dem Weltengeheimnisse verbunden zu wissen. Das «Erkenne dich selbst» bekam einen heiligen Sinn dadurch, indem es nicht nur theoretisch gesprochen wurde, indem es innerlich feierlich gefühlt und empfunden werden konnte.
Und dann konnte der Schüler, wenn er in dieser Weise gewissermaBen seinen Menschen geadelt und erhoben hatte, indem er ihn fühlte als eine Hülle, die das Weltengeheimnis umschließt, dann konnte er weiter eingeführt werden in dasjenige, was das Weltengeheimnis gewissermaßen hinaus ausbreitet über die Weiten des Kosmos. Und da gedenken wir desjenigen, was gestern vor unsere Seele getreten ist.
Ich habe Ihnen einen Weltwerdezustand geschildert, in dem das Folgende geschieht. Wir haben in diesem damaligen Zustand die Erde. Wir wissen, in der Erde ist vorhanden, schon als ein Wesentliches für die damalige Etappe des Erdenwerdens, alles das, was wir in dem unscheinbaren Kalk, den wir auch im Jura haben, antreffen. Im Kalkgebirge, in den Kalkeinsätzen der Erde haben wir das, was wir da beachten wollen. Und wir haben die Erde umgeben mit dem, was ich gestern genannt habe das flüssige Eiweiß. Und wir wissen, daß die kosmischen Kräfte in dieses flüssige Eiweiß so hereinwirken, daß in bestimmten Formen dieses flüssige Eiweiß gerinnt. Und wir haben gehört, während dieses Zustandes des Erdenwerdens findet in einem erhöhten Maße, in einem dichteren Maße das statt, was wir heute im Aufsteigen der Regendünste, im Herabkommen des Wassers haben. Das Kalkige steigt nach oben, durchsetzt das, was sich da in dem flüssigen Eiweiß verdichtet hat, mit Kalkigem, füllt es so aus, daß es Knochiges als Inhalt bekommt, und wir haben die Tierwerdung im Laufe des Erdenwerdens. Das Tier wird gewissermaßen durch die Geistigkeit, die im Kalkigen lebt, heruntergeholt aus der noch eiweißartigen Atmosphäre.

Aber ich habe auch noch etwas anderes gesagt. Ich habe gesagt: Der Mensch fühlt alles das, was da geschehen ist, wenn er sich mit der Metallität der Erde verbindet, wie sein eigenes Wesen, wie eine in ihm befindliche Erinnerung. Und für dieses Stadium fühlt er sich noch nicht als der kleine Mensch in seiner Haut eingeschlossen, sondern er fühlt sich als umfassend den ganzen Erdenplaneten. Wenn ich es grotesk schematisch zeichnen will, so müßte ich sagen: Der Mensch fühlt ja zunächst hauptsächlich sein Haupt als den Erdenplaneten umfassend.
Die Vorgänge also, die ich schildern konnte, die fühlt der Mensch als Vorgänge in sich. Aber wie fühlt er sie in sich? Schen Sie, alles das, was ich Ihnen hier geschildert habe als Aufsteigen des Kalkigen, Verbinden des Kalkigen mit dem Eiweißgeronnenen, wieder Herunterkommen, Herunterholen des Tierwesens auf die Erde, das erlebt der Mensch in dieser Zeit so, daß er es hört. Der Mensch erlebt es ja innerlich. Sie müssen sich nur vorstellen, der Mensch erlebt es innerlich. Er hört es. Diese Bildung, die da entsteht, indem der Kalk das Eiweißgetinnsel ausfüllt, knochig, knorpelig macht, das, was da sich bildet, das ist etwas wie im Ohr Gefühltes, Gehörtes. Das Weltengeheimnis wird gehört.
Tatsächlich vernimmt man auch in der Erinnerung, in dieser metallinisch erzeugten Erinnerung, diese Vergangenheit der Erde so, als ob man dies, was ich beschrieben habe, erklingen hörte. Und in diesem Erklingen webt und lebt doch das Weltengeschehen drinnen.
Ja, was ist denn das, was man da hört? Dieses Weltgeschehen, als was enthüllt es sich, als was offenbart es sich denn? Es offenbart sich als das Wort der Welt, als der Logos. Es erklingt der Logos, das Weltenwort in dem aufsteigenden und abwogenden Kalkigen. Und man vernimmt schon, wenn man diese Sprache in sich vernehmen kann, noch etwas anderes. Da wird einem das zu etwas durchaus Möglichem.
Meine lieben Freunde, man steht vor einem menschlichen, vor einem tierischen Skelett. Das, was äußere Anatomie darüber sagt, ist ja etwas so Äußerliches, etwas so schändlich Äußerliches diesen Formen gegenüber. Was sagt man sich, wenn man in innerlichem Zusammenhang mit dem Natur- und Geisteswesen dieses Skelett anschaut? Man sagt sich: Schaue das doch nicht bloß an. Es ist entsetzlich, das bloß in seinen Formen anzuschauen, dasjenige, was da steht als Wirbelsäule mit den wunderbar gebildeten, aufeinandergeschichteten Wirbelknochen, mit den Rippen, die herauskommen und sich nach vorne beugen und biegen, mit der wunderbaren Artikulierung, wie sich die Wirbel umsetzen in die Schädelknochen, und der noch schwerer zu durchschauenden Artikulierung, wie sich die Rippen, die sich nur wie gleichförmige Bögen um die Brust herumschlingen, dann gewissermaßen scharf artikulierend ausbilden zu den Armknochen, zu den Beinknochen. Diesem Geheimnis des Skelettes gegenüber kann man gar nicht anders, als sich etwas ganz Bestimmtes zu sagen. Es ist tatsächlich so, daß man sich sagt: Höre doch das alles, schaue es dir doch nicht bloß an, höre das alles - höre, wie ein Knochen in den andern sich verwandelt. Das spricht ja.
Wenn ich hier eine persönliche Bemerkung machen darf, so müßte es diese sein. Es tritt einem etwas ganz Wunderbares entgegen, wenn man mit einem Gefühl für diese Dinge ein naturhistorisches Kabinett oder Museum betritt. Denn das ist eine wunderbare Zusammenstellung von Instrumenten zu einem großartigen Orchester, das symphonisch in der wunderbarsten Weise erklingt, wenn Sie hineingehen in ein solches Museum. Ich mußte es einmal besonders tief empfinden, als ich das Museum in Triest besuchte, und da durch eine besondere Aufstellung von Tierskeletten, die instinktiv gemacht worden ist, tatsächlich hintereinander einem immer erklangen an dem einen Ende des Tieres die Mondengeheimnisse, an dem anderen Ende des Tieres die Sonnengeheimnisse. Und das Ganze war durchsetzt wie mit den erklingenden Sonnen und Planeten. Da fühlt man schon den Zusammenhang zwischen diesem im Kalk lebenden Knochensystem, dem Skelett, und demjenigen, was da aus dem webenden Weltenall dereinst dem Menschen, der selber noch eins war mit diesem Weltenall, herausklang, herausklang als das Weltengeheimnis, herausklang zugleich als sein eigenes Geheimnis.
Die Wesen, die da entstanden zunächst, die tierischen Wesen, die sagten ja damit, was sie sind. Denn in dem Logos, in dem tönenden Weltengeheimnis lebte doch das Wesen dieses Tierischen. Es war ja nicht zweierlei, was man währnahm. Man nahm nicht da die Tiere wahr und dann auf irgendeine Weise das Wesen der Tiere. Das Werden und Weben der Tiere selber in ihrem Wesen, das war es, was sprach.
Sehen Sie, in der richtigen Weise, wie man es in diesem Altertum forderte, konnte eben der Schüler der ephesischen Mysterien das in seine Seele, in sein Herz aufnehmen, was da klar gemacht werden konnte für den Urbeginn, wo das Wort, der Logos, als Wesen der Dinge webte. Er konnte das aufnehmen, weil er vorbereitet war dazu dadurch, daß er seine Menschheit geadelt und gehoben hatte, indem er sich als Hülle fühlen konnte für den kleinen Abglanz dieses Weltengeheimnisses, das in seinem eigenen Sprach-Erklingen lag. Und nun fühlen wir, wie das Werden der Welt gewissermaßen von einem Niveau zu dem anderen übergegangen ist. Schauen wir uns das an. Wir haben hier in dem Kalkigen durchaus noch etwas, das ein Flüssiges war; es stieg als Dunst auf, träufelte als Regen herab. Das Kalkige war ein Flüssiges; indem es aufstieg, wandelte es sich in Luft, indem es abstieg, wandelte es sich in Erde. Wir haben hier Wasser, Luft, Erde. Es ist um ein Niveau tiefer als hier im menschlichen Abbilde:
Luft, Wärme, Wasser. Damals in diesem Urzustande webt das Wasser: das heißt, der noch flüssige Kalk verdünnt sich zu Luft, verdichtet sich zur Erde, wie sich heute in unserer Kehle die Luft zum Feuer, zur Wärme verdünnt, verdichtet zum Wasser. Dasjenige, was in der Welt lebte, ist von dem Wasser in die Luft aufgestiegen. Früher lebte es im Wasser, verdichtete sich zur Erde, verdünnte sich zur Luft. Es ist aufgestiegen zur Luft, verdünnt sich zur Wärme, verdichtet sich zum Wasser. Dadurch ist es möglich, daß wir Menschen dieses Weltgeheimnis im Kleinen umschließen. Als es noch groß war, als es die mächtige Maja der Welt war, da war es ein Niveau tiefer. Die Erde verdichtete alles. Der Kalk wurde dichter, und so weiter. Das hätten wir nicht bergen können, auch wenn es in Miniaturausgabe an uns herangekommen wäre. Wir konnten es nur bergen dadurch, daß es um ein Niveau höher gestiegen ist, vom Wasser in die Luft hinauf und damit in seinem Auf- und Abwogen in die Wärme und in das Wasser hinein, das jetzt das Dichtere ist. So wurde das, was große Welt war, das makrokosmische Mystezium, zum mikrokosmischen Mysterium der Menschensprache. Und auf dieses makrokosmische Mysterium, die Übersetzung in die Maja, in die große Welt, deutet der Beginn des Johannes-Evangeliums hin: «Im Urbeginne war der Logos. Und der Logos war bei Gott. Und ein Gott war der Logos». Denn das war dasjenige, was lebte und webte noch in der Tradition zu Ephesus, auch als der Evangelist, der Schreiber des Johannes-Evangeliums, in der Akasha-Chronik zu Ephesus lesen konnte dasjenige, wonach sein Herz dürstete: die richtige Einkleidung für das, was er als das Geheimnis des Weltenwerdens der Menschheit sagen wollte.
Aber wir können noch einen Schritt weitergehen. Wir können uns daran erinnern, daß wir ja gestern gesagt haben: Vorangegangen dem Kalkigen ist das Kieselige, das im Quarz erscheint. Da drinnen erschienen die Pfanzenformen, wie, ich sagte grünende, vergrünende Wolkengebilde. Und wenn man damals schon, sagte ich, hätte hinausschauen können in die Weiten des Kosmos, dann hätte man geschaut dieses Werden des Tierwesens und diese grünende und vergrünende Urpflanze. Aber das alles nahm man ja als ein Inneres wahr. Man nahm es als Eigenwesen des Menschen wahr. Neben dem, daß man hörte, wie etwas, was in einem selbst lebte, das Erklingen des tierischen Werdens, konnte man innerlich in einem gewissen Sinne gehen mit dem, was man da klingen hörte, wie wenn man im eigenen menschlichen Haupte, in der menschlichen Brust und dem Haupt, mit den Worten durch die Wärme hinaufgeht, um den Gedanken zu erfassen; so konnte man gehen mit demjenigen, was man hörte aus der Tierwerdung, nach demjenigen, was man erlebte in der Pflanzenwerdung. Und da war das Eigentümliche: das Weben und Wesen des Tierwerdens erlebte man im verdunsteten und heruntersickernden Kalk; und wenn man dann weiterspürte nach demjenigen, was im Kieseligen als das grünende und entgrünende, vergrünende Pflanzenwesen war, dann wurde das Weltenwort zum Weltengedanken, und die Pflanze im kieseligen Elemente fügte den Gedanken hinzu zu dem tönenden Worte. Man ging gewissermaßen um einen Schritt nach oben, und zu dem tönenden Logos wurde der Weltengedanke gefügt, so wie heute zu dem im Sprachlichen ertönenden Worte, indem das Sprachliche hinauswellt: Feuer, Wasser, Feuer, Wasser - im Feuer der Gedanke erfaßt wird.
Meine lieben Freunde, wenn Sie heute nachsehen, wie man gerade denjenigen krankhaften Zuständen beikommt, die sich auf das Sinnessystem des Hauptes und überhaupt auf das Sinnessystem beziehen, so werden Sie die heilsamen Wirkungen der Kieselsäure erfahren. Und hier tritt Ihnen innerhalb der Weltengcheimnisse das Kieselsäure-Element als dasjenige entgegen, was in den ursprünglichen grünenden und vergrünenden Pflanzenformen gerade das gedankenhafte Element ist, von dem ich Ihnen aber auch sagen konnte: das ist ja die Wahrnehmung, die Sinneswahrnehmung der Erde gegenüber dem Weltengebäude. In einer wunderbaren Weise tatsächlich drückt sich im heutigen Menschen mikrokosmisch dasjenige aus, was im Makrokosmischen war, was Werden und Weben der Welt war.
Denken Sie sich nur einmal, wie da der Mensch lebte, lebte noch eins mit dem Kosmos, in Einheit mit dem Kosmos. Heute, wenn der Mensch denkt, muß er sich isoliert denken mit seinem Haupte. Da sind drinnen die Gedanken, da heraus kommen die Worte. Das Weltenall ist draußen. Die Worte können nur das Weltenall bedeuten; die Gedanken können nur das Weltenall abbilden. Es war nicht so, als der Mensch noch eins war mit dem Makrokosmischen; da erlebte er das Weltenall als in sich. Das Wort war zu gleicher Zeit die Umgebung; der Gedanke war dasjenige, was diese Umgebung durchsetzte und durchströmte. Der Mensch hörte, und das Gehörte war Welt. Der Mensch schaute auf von dem Gehötten, aber er schaute in sich selber auf. Das Wort war zunächst Ton. Das Wort war zunächst dasjenige, was nach Enträtselung rang. Im Tier-Entstehen offenbarte sich etwas, was nach Enträtselung rang. Wie eine Frage entstand das Tierreich innerhalb des Kalkigen. Ins Kieselige sah man hinein: da antwortete das Pflanzenwesen mit demjenigen, was es aufgenommen hat als das Sinneswesen der Erde, und enthüllte die Rätsel, die das Tierreich aufgab. Die Wesen selbst waren es, die sich gegenseitig enträtselten. Das eine Wesen, hier das Tierische, gibt die Frage auf, die anderen Wesen, hier das Pflanzliche, geben die Antwort darauf. Und die ganze Welt wird zur Sprache. Und man darf schon sagen: Das ist die Realität vom Beginn des Johannes-Evangeliums. Denn wir sind da zunächst zu einem Urbeginne desjenigen, was jetzt überhaupt da ist, zurückgekehrt. In diesem Urbeginne, in diesem Prinzip, war das Wort. Und das Wort war bei Gott. Und ein Gott war das Wort. Denn es war das schöpferische Wesen in alledem.
Es ist wahrhaftig so, daß in dem, was da gerade den ephesischen Mysterienschülern gelehrt wurde von dem Urworte, dasjenige liegt, was dann zum Anfang des Johannes-Evangeliums geführt hat. Und man möchte schon sagen, daß das Hinschauen auf diese Geheimnisse, die im Schoße der Zeiten ruhen, unter Anthroposophen heute recht, zecht zeitgemäß ist. Denn sehen Sie, in einem gewissen Sinne, in einem sehr, sehr eigentlichen Sinne war eben doch das, was hier auf dem Dornacher Hügel als das Goetheanum stand, der Mittelpunkt des anthroposophischen Wirkens geworden. Das, was heute als Schmerz in uns lebt, muß als Schmerz weiterleben und wird es bei jedem, der eben fühlen konnte, was das Goetheanum sein sollte. Aber alles das, was in der physischen Welt sich abspielt, es muß ja für denjenigen, der aufstrebt in seiner Erkenntnis zum Geistigen, zugleich eine äußere Offenbarung, ein Bild werden von tieferem Geistigen. Und wenn wir das Schmerzliche auf der einen Seite hinnehmen müssen, so müssen wir ja gerade aber als Menschen, die nach geistiger Erkenntnis streben, auch wiederum das, was im Schmerz geschehen ist, zum Anlaß nehmen können, in eine Offenbarung hineinzuschauen, die tiefer und immer tiefer geht. Ist doch dieses Goetheanum eine Stätte gewesen, in der gesprochen hat werden wollen, immer wieder und wiederum auch gesprochen worden ist, über diejenigen Dinge, die zusammenhängen mit dem Beginne des Johannes-Evangeliums: «Im Urbeginne war das Wort. Und das Wort war bei Gott. Und ein Gott war das Wort».
Und dann ist dieses Goetheanum im Feuer aufgegangen. Und dieses furchtbare Bild des Goetheanum-Brandes kann vor uns stehen. Und aus dem Schmerze heraus kann sich gebären die Aufforderung, nun immer tiefer und tiefer zu sehen, hineinzuschauen in das, was für unsere Gedankenkraft noch immer dasteht: dieses in der Neujahrsnacht abbrennende Goetheanum. Aber das ist ein, wenn auch so schmerzliches, so doch in die Tiefe und immer größere Tiefe führendes Ereignis. Dasjenige, was darinnen hat ergründet werden sollen und was so, wie einiges von dem, was ich gestern und vorgestern gesagt habe, zusammenhängt mit dem Johannes-Evangelium, das bildete schon einen Einschluß in die versengenden und verzehrenden Flammen. Und es ist ein Wichtiges, ein wichtiger Impuls, meine lieben Freunde, den wir fassen können: Lassen wir doch diese Flammen zum Anlaß sein, durch sie hindurchzuschauen auf andere Flammen, auf jene Flammen, die einstmals den Tempel zu Ephesus verzehrt haben. Und lassen wir das die Aufforderung sein, einen Sinn zu haben für die Ergründung desjenigen, was im Johannes-Evangelium-Anfang liegt. Schauen wir, gerade aufgefordert durch diese schmerzlich heiligen Impulse, von dem Johannes-Evangelium zurück zu dem Tempel zu Ephesus, der auch einstmals gebrannt hat, und wir werden dann in den ja so schmerzlich sprechenden Goetheanum-Flammen eine Mahnung haben an das, was mit den versengenden Flammen des Ephesustempels in die Akasha hineingeströmt ist.
Haben wir denn nicht heute noch, meine lieben Freunde, wenn wir das Auge gerichtet haben in jener Unglücksnacht auf die versengenden Flammen dieses Goetheanum-Brandes, darinnen die schmelzenden Metalle von den Musikinstrumenten? Haben wir nicht darinnen diese so laut und so heilig sprechenden schmelzenden Metalle gerade der Musikinstrumente, die in die Flammen die merkwürdigsten Farben hineinzauberten? Vielsprechende Farben, Farben, die dem Metallischen nahestehen! Und durch das Verbinden mit dem Metallischen ersteht schon etwas wie Erinnerung im Irdischen. Dieses Erinnernde, wir haben es hier an das, was mit dem Tempel zu Ephesus verbrannte. Und zusammenschließen kann sich, wie diese beiden Brände, so die Sehnsucht, zu ergründen so etwas, wie: «Im Urbeginne war das Wort, und das Wort war bei Gott, und ein Gott war das Wort» — mit demjenigen, was immer wieder und wiederum dem Schüler zu Ephesus klar gemacht wurde: Studiere das Menschengeheimnis in dem kleinen Worte, in dem Mikrologos, damit du reif wirst, in dir zu empfinden das Geheimnis des Makrologos.
Der Mensch ist der Mikrokosmos gegenüber der Welt, die der Makrokosmos ist, aber er trägt auch die Weltengeheimnisse in sich. Und jenes Weltengeheimnis, das in den ersten drei Versen des JohannesEvangeliums liegt, wir ergründen es, wenn wir im rechten Sinne dasjenige, wozu sich auch, wie zu so vielem anderen, die GoetheanumFlammen wie zu Schriftzeichen verdichten, wenn wir das ins Auge fassen:
Schaue den Logos
Im sengenden Feuer;
Finde die Lösung
In Dianens Haus.
Die Feuer-Akasha vom Silvesterabend spricht schon sehr deutlich diese Worte neben vielem anderen. Und sie fordert uns auf, zu ergründen im Mikrokosmos den Mikrologos, damit der Mensch Verständnis gewinne für dasjenige, woraus er seinem Wesen nach selber ist: für den Makrokosmos durch den Makrologos.
Sixth Lecture
When a person speaks of the word today, he usually means only the weak word, which is in fact of little significance compared to the majesty of the universe. But we know that the Gospel of John begins with the significant words: “In the beginning was the Word - the Logos. And the Word was with God. And the Word was God.” And anyone who reflects on this meaningful introduction to the Gospel of John will have to ask themselves: What is actually being referred to when the word is set in the beginning of all things? What is actually meant by this Logos, by this Word? And how is this meaning connected with the weak, insignificant human word in the face of the majesty of the universe?
Now John's name is also associated with the city of Ephesus. And anyone who, equipped with an imaginative view of world history, approaches these significant words: “In the beginning was the Logos. And the Logos was with God. And the Logos was God,” will be led again and again through an inner path to the ancient temple of Diana in Ephesus. And for that which sounds like a riddle from the first verses of the Gospel of John, for that, the initiate into the secrets of the world, is referred to the mysteries of the temple of Artemis, of Diana, in Ephesus. So that it must seem to him as if something could flow from the exploration of the mysteries of Ephesus for the understanding of the beginning of the Gospel of John.
Therefore, let us look today, equipped with what we have just seen in the last two days here as reflections before our soul, into the secrets, into the mysteries of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, let us look into them for the time of about the sixth or seventh century BC or even earlier, to see what was going on in this place so sacred to the ancients. We find that the mystery teaching in Ephesus initially referred to that which resounds in human language. We can learn, not from a historical account (the barbarism of humanity has seen to the destruction of these), but from the chronicle of world events, which is accessible to spiritual perception and in which the events of world history are recorded as they took place within these Ephesian mysteries.
There we encounter again and again, for the beholding, how the disciple was expelled by the teacher, first of all in human speech; how he was admonished, admonished again and again: Feel in your own speech tools what is actually going on there when you speak. The processes of speaking cannot be perceived through gross sensation, for they are subtle and intimate. But let us first consider the outward aspect of speaking. And it was from this outward aspect of speaking that the Ephesian mysteries began their teaching.
The student was made aware of how the word sounds when it leaves the mouth. He was told again and again: Pay attention to what you feel when the word sounds from the mouth. And the student should first notice how something of the word turns upwards, as it were, to take in the thought of the head; and how then, in turn, something of the same word turns downwards in the person, in order to inwardly experience the content of the feeling of the word.
Again and again, the student was instructed to push the extremes of speaking through the throat and to observe the surging that can be perceived in the word that emerges from the throat. I am, I am not: a positive, a negative assertion should be articulated in the most articulate way possible. The student should let the word penetrate through the throat and then observe how it is felt: in “I am” more of an upward surge, in “I am not” more of a downward surge.
But now the student was referred even more to the intimate inner sensations and experiences of the word, as he was able to perceive: something rises from the word like warmth towards the head, and this warmth, this fire, intercepts the thought. And something like a watery element flows downwards; this pours downwards, like a glandular secretion pours into the human being. And so man avails himself — the pupil in the Ephesian Mysteries was made to understand this — of the air to make the word resound; but the air, in speaking, transforms itself into the next element, into fire, into warmth, and brings the thought down from the heights of the head, incorporates itself into it. And again, as a state of change occurs: sending up the fire, sending down that which lies in the word, the air, as it were, trickles downwards like a glandular secretion as water, as a liquid. In this way, the word becomes inwardly tangible to the human being. The word trickles down as a liquid element.

And then the pupil was introduced to the actual secret of speaking. But this secret is connected with the secret of the human being. Today, this mystery of the human being is virtually barricaded for scientific people; for science puts the most incredible caricature of a truth at the top of all its thinking: namely, the so-called law of the conservation of energy and matter. In the human being, matter is constantly being transformed. It does not remain. That which escapes from the throat as air is transformed in the process of escaping, alternately into the next higher element, into the warmth or fire element, and then again into the water element: fire, water – fire, water.
The pupil at Ephesus was made aware of this: when he speaks, a wave emanates from his mouth – fire, water – fire, water. But this is nothing other than the upward reaching of the word after the thought, the downward trickling of the word after the feeling. And so thought and feeling interweave in speaking, as the living wave motion of speaking thins as air into fire, condenses into water, and so forth.
Fire => thought Water => feeling Fire Water
And this is what the disciple should feel when, in the Mystery at Ephesus, the great truth is revealed to his soul from his own speaking:
Man, speak, and you
reveal through you
the becoming of the world.
Yes, it was literally so in Ephesus, that when the disciple went in at the gate of the mystery, he was constantly admonished with this saying:
Man, speak, and you
reveal through you
the becoming of the world.
And when he went out again, the saying was said to him in the other form: The world-becoming reveals itself through you, O man, when you speak. And the disciple gradually felt as if he were enveloping the world secret, which resounded from his breast and lived in his speech, with his own body as a shell.
This was brought to the disciple as a preparation for the actual deeper secret. For through it the disciple came to know his own human nature as inwardly connected with the secret of the world. The “know thyself” took on a sacred meaning through this, in that it was not only spoken of theoretically, but could be inwardly felt and experienced as a solemn ceremony.
And then the disciple, when he had in this way, as it were, ennobled and uplifted his human nature by feeling it as a shell enclosing the secret of the world, could then be further introduced to that which the secret of the world spreads out over the vastness of the cosmos. And there we remember what came before our soul yesterday.
I have described to you a world-becoming state in which the following happens. We have the earth in this state at that time. We know that everything we encounter in the inconspicuous limestone, which we also have in the Jura, is present in the earth as an essential element for the stage of earth-becoming at that time. In the limestone mountains, in the limestone deposits of the earth, we have what we want to observe there. And we have surrounded the earth with what I called yesterday the liquid egg white. And we know that the cosmic forces act in this liquid egg white in such a way that this liquid egg white coagulates in certain forms. And we have heard that during this state of becoming earth, what we have today in the rising of rain vapors, in the descent of water, takes place to a greater extent, in a denser form. The chalky rises to the top, permeating what has condensed in the liquid egg white with chalky, filling it so that it takes on a bone-like consistency, and we have the animal becoming an animal in the course of becoming an earthling. The animal is, so to speak, brought down out of the still egg-white-like atmosphere by the spirituality that lives in the chalky.

But I also said something else. I said: When connecting with the metallity of the earth, the human being feels everything that has happened as if it were his own being, as if it were a memory within him. And at this stage, he no longer feels like the little human being enclosed in his skin, but feels as if he encompasses the entire planet. If I wanted to draw a grotesquely schematic picture, I would have to say: at first, the human being mainly feels his head as encompassing the planet Earth.
The processes that I have been able to describe, man feels as processes within himself. But how does he feel them within himself? Consider everything that I have described to you here as the rising of the limy, the connecting of the limy with the coagulated egg white, the coming down again, the bringing down of the animal being to the earth, man experiences this at this time in such a way that he hears it. The human being experiences it inwardly. You just have to imagine that the human being experiences it inwardly. He hears it. This formation that arises as the lime fills the egg white clot, making it bony and cartilaginous, that which is formed there, is something like what is felt and heard in the ear. The secret of the world is heard.
In fact, in memory, in this metalically generated memory, one also hears this past of the earth as if one heard this, what I have described, resound. And in this resounding, the world event weaves and lives in it.
Yes, what is it that one hears? This cosmic event, how does it reveal itself, how does it reveal itself? It reveals itself as the word of the world, as the Logos. The Logos, the word of the world, resounds in the rising and falling calcareous. And if one can hear this language within oneself, one can discern something else as well. It becomes something thoroughly possible.
My dear friends, we are standing before a human, an animal skeleton. What external anatomy has to say about it is something so external, something so shamefully external to these forms. What do we say to ourselves when we look at the skeleton in an inward connection with the nature and spirit of the being? We say to ourselves: Don't just look at that. It is terrible to look at it only in its forms, at what stands there as a spine with the wonderfully formed, layered vertebral bones, with the ribs coming out and bending forward and bending, with the marvelous articulation of how the vertebrae are transformed into the skull bones, and the even more difficult-to-grasp articulation of how the ribs, which only wrap around the chest like uniform arches, then, as it were, articulate sharply with the arm bones, with the leg bones. In the face of this secret of the skeleton, one cannot but say something very definite to oneself. It is actually the case that one says to oneself: Listen to all this, don't just look at it, listen to it all – listen to how one bone transforms into another. That is what speaks.
If I may make a personal comment here, this is how it should be. When you enter a natural history cabinet or museum with a feeling for these things, you encounter something quite wonderful. Because that is a wonderful combination of instruments for a great orchestra, which sounds symphonically in the most wonderful way when you enter such a museum. I felt it particularly deeply once when I visited the museum in Trieste, and there, because of a special display of animal skeletons that had been done instinctively, one actually heard the secrets of the moon at one end of the animal and the secrets of the sun at the other end. And the whole thing was permeated as if with the sounding suns and planets. Here we can already feel the connection between this bone system, this skeleton, living in the lime, and that which once sounded out of the weaving universe for man, who himself was still one with this universe, sounded out as the world secret, and at the same time sounded out as his own secret.
The beings that arose first, the animal beings, said what they are. For in the logos, in the sounding world secret, the essence of the animal lived. It was not two different things that were perceived. One did not perceive the animals and then somehow perceive the essence of the animals. It was the becoming and weaving of the animals themselves in their essence that spoke.
You see, in the right way, as demanded in this antiquity, the student of the Ephesian mysteries could absorb into his soul, into his heart, what could be made clear for the very beginning, where the word, the logos, wove as the essence of things. He could absorb this because he had been prepared for it by ennobling and elevating his humanity, by feeling that he was a vessel for the small reflection of this cosmic secret that lay in the resonance of his own language. And now we feel how the evolution of the world has, so to speak, passed from one level to another. Let us look at this. Here in the limestone we still have something that was liquid; it rose as a vapour and fell as rain. The limestone was liquid; as it rose it changed into air, as it descended it changed into earth. Here we have water, air and earth. It is one level lower than here in the human image:
Air, warmth, water. In this original state, water is weaving: that is, the still liquid lime dilutes into air, condenses into earth, just as today in our throat air dilutes into fire, into warmth, condenses into water. That which lived in the world has risen from water into air. Formerly living in water, it condensed into the earth, rarefied into air. It has risen into the air, rarefied into warmth, condensed into water. This makes it possible for us to contain this cosmic secret in miniature. When it was still large, when it was the mighty Maja of the world, it was at a lower level. The earth condensed everything. The lime became denser, and so on. We could not have recovered it even if it had come to us in miniature. We could only recover it by rising one level higher, from water into air and thus, in its surging up and down, into warmth and into the water, which is now the denser. Thus that which was the great world, the macrocosmic mystery, became the microcosmic mystery of human language. And the beginning of the Gospel of John points to this macrocosmic mystery, the translation into the Maja, into the great world: “In the beginning was the Logos. And the Logos was with God. And the Logos was God”. For this was the one that lived and moved even in the tradition at Ephesus, and when the evangelist, the writer of the Gospel of John, was able to read in the Akasha Chronicle at Ephesus what his heart thirsted for: the right clothing for what he wanted to say as the secret of the world becoming humanity.
But we can go a step further. We can remember that we said yesterday: the siliceous precedes the calcareous, which appears in quartz. Plant forms appeared in it, as I said, greening, greening cloud formations. And if one could already at that time, as I said, have looked out into the vastness of the cosmos, then one would have seen this becoming of the animal being and this greening and turning-green primeval plant. But all this one perceived as something inward. One perceived it as a being of one's own, as something within oneself. Besides the fact that one heard, as something that lived within oneself, the sounding of the animal becoming, you could, in a sense, go inwardly with what you heard resounding, as if you were going up with the words through the warmth in your own human head, in the human chest and head, in order to grasp the thought; you could go with what you heard from the animal becoming, to what you experienced in the plant becoming. And there was the peculiar thing: one experienced the weaving and nature of animal becoming in the evaporating and seeping lime; and when one then sensed further into the siliceous as the greening and de-greening, re-greening plant being, then the world word became world thought, and the plant in the siliceous element added the thought to the sounding word. One went, as it were, one step upward, and the world-thought was joined to the sounding Logos, just as today it is joined to the word resounding in speech, as speech rolls out: fire, water, fire, water – the thought is grasped in the fire.
My dear friends, if you look today at how to treat precisely those pathological conditions that relate to the sensory system of the head and to the sensory system in general, you will learn about the healing effects of silicic acid. And here, within the secrets of the world, the element of silicic acid confronts you as that which is the conceptual element in the original greening and greening plant forms, but of which I could also tell you: this is indeed the perception, the sensory perception of the earth in relation to the world building. In a wonderful way, what was in the macrocosm, what was the becoming and weaving of the world, is actually expressed microcosmically in today's human being.
Just imagine how man lived, still lived one with the cosmos, in unity with the cosmos. Today, when man thinks, he must think himself isolated with his head. The thoughts are inside, the words come out. The universe is outside. The words can only mean the universe; the thoughts can only depict the universe. It was not so when man was still one with the macrocosm; then he experienced the universe as within himself. The word was at the same time the environment; the thought was that which penetrated and flowed through this environment. Man heard, and what was heard was world. Man looked up from what was heard, but he looked up into himself. The word was initially sound. The word was initially that which struggled for unraveling. Something was revealed in the emergence of the animal kingdom that was striving for elucidation. Like a question, the animal kingdom arose within the calcareous. The siliceous was observed: the plant being responded with what it had absorbed as the sensory being of the earth, revealing the riddles posed by the animal kingdom. It was the beings themselves that mutually revealed the riddles. The one being, here the animal, poses the question, the other being, here the plant, provides the answer. And the whole world becomes language. And it may be said: this is the reality of the beginning of the Gospel of John. For we have returned to the very beginning of that which is there at all. In this beginning, in this principle, was the word. And the Word was with God. And the Word was God. For it was the creative being in all things.
It is truly the case that what was taught to the Ephesian mystery school students about the original word is what led to the beginning of the Gospel of John. And one would like to say that looking at these mysteries, which lie at the heart of time, is quite timely among anthroposophists today. Because, you see, in a certain sense, in a very, very real sense, what stood here on the Dornach hill as the Goetheanum had become the center of anthroposophical work. What lives in us today as pain must continue to live as pain and will do so in everyone who was able to feel what the Goetheanum should be. But everything that takes place in the physical world must, at the same time, become an external revelation, an image of a deeper spiritual reality for those who are striving towards spiritual knowledge. And if we must accept the painful side of it, then we must, precisely because we are human beings striving for spiritual knowledge, be able to take what happened in the pain as an opportunity to look into a revelation that goes deeper and deeper. This Goetheanum was a place where people wanted to speak, spoke again and again, about the things that are connected with the beginning of the Gospel of John: “In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God. And the Word was God.”
And then this Goetheanum was destroyed by fire. And this terrible image of the burning of the Goetheanum can stand before us. And out of the pain can be born the challenge to look ever deeper and deeper, to look into that which still stands there for our power of thought: this Goetheanum burning down on New Year's night. But this is an event that, although so painful, nevertheless leads into the depths and ever greater depths. That which was to be fathomed in it and which, as some of what I said yesterday and the day before, is connected with the Gospel of John, was already forming an enclosure in the scorching and consuming flames. And there is an important, an important impulse, my dear friends, that we can grasp: let us let these flames be the reason to look through them to other flames, to those flames that once consumed the Temple at Ephesus. And let us let that be the call to have a sense of the exploration of that which lies at the beginning of the Gospel of John. Let us look, prompted by these painfully sacred impulses, from the Gospel of John back to the temple at Ephesus, which also once burned, and we will then have in the so painfully speaking Goetheanum flames a reminder of what flowed into the akasha with the scorching flames of the Ephesus temple.
Do we not still have today, my dear friends, when we have fixed our eyes on the scorching flames of this Goetheanum fire on that ill-fated night, the melting metals of the musical instruments within it? Did we not hear the loud and holy speech of the melting metals, the metals of musical instruments, conjuring up the most remarkable colors in the flames? These were promising colors, colors that are close to the metallic! And by connecting with the metallic, something like memory arises in the earthly. This reminiscence, we have here to what burned with the temple at Ephesus. And, like these two fires, the longing to fathom something like “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” can be combined with what was repeatedly made clear to the student at Ephesus: Study the human mystery in the small word, in the micrologos, so that you may mature to feel within you the mystery of the macrologos.
The human being is the microcosm in relation to the world, which is the macrocosm, but he also carries the secrets of the world within him. And that world secret, which lies in the first three verses of the Gospel of John, we fathom it when we contemplate in the right sense that to which, as to so much else, the Goetheanum flames condense as to written characters, when we contemplate that:
See the Logos
In the scorching fire;
Find the solution
In Diana's house.
The Fire Akasha of New Year's Eve speaks these words very clearly, along with many others. And it challenges us to fathom the microcosm in the micrologos, so that man may gain understanding of that from which he himself is made: for the macrocosm through the macrologos.