The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The Significance of the Celestial Bodies Surrounding the Earth for Human Life IV

[ 1 ] Allow me to begin with an anthroposophical discussion, and then, at the end, return briefly to what the Christmas Conference was intended to be.

[ 2 ] You are familiar, from various anthroposophical accounts, with the significance of the celestial bodies surrounding the Earth for human life and existence. Today I would like to speak to you about a particular aspect of this subject. When we let our gaze wander here during our earthly existence over all that surrounds us on Earth, and also over what surrounds us in the cosmos surrounding the Earth, we actually perceive with our physical senses—even when these physical senses wander up toward the stars— we see only that which is connected to that part of our human being which we shed at death. We know, of course, from various anthroposophical descriptions that the human physical body derives its forces—and also its substantial composition—from what surrounds us on Earth. We also know that, in addition to the physical body, we carry within us an etheric body, and that just as the physical body draws its forces and its substantial constituents from the Earth, so this etheric body draws its constituents and its forces from the vastness of the outer cosmos, the etheric world. And it is indeed this etheric world that surrounds the Earth in the vastness of space; it is this etheric world in which the stars are embedded, from which the light of the universe streams down upon the Earth. Thus, we owe our physical and etheric existence to that which we can perceive—either in our earthly surroundings or in the world surrounding the Earth. But within what envelops us as the Earth’s etheric environment in the cosmos, we first see two celestial bodies that we can truly describe as gateways into the spiritual world. We see these two celestial bodies, the Moon and the Sun. From time immemorial, all those who, through their insight, are able to look more deeply into the structure of the whole universe have attributed the greatest possible significance to these two celestial bodies—the Moon and the Sun—for human life and existence.

[ 3 ] When we consider the human being in the anthroposophical sense, we can indeed know that, in addition to the physical body and the etheric body, the astral entity and the “I” entity are present within the human being. However, when we look at these astral and “I” entities, we find nothing anywhere in the vast expanses we can observe with our external senses—even when, as mentioned, we let our gaze wander up into the world of the stars—that, at first glance, resembles the human astral being and the human I-being. We find only that which resembles the physical and etheric beings. Nothing in the vast universe that becomes visible and manifest to our senses and to our intellect; nothing provides the astral body and the I-being with constituents or forces. Yet it is precisely in the Moon and the Sun that we find something that appears as gateways into that world from which our astral body and our I-being originate.

[ 4 ] You have surely followed how, in my Occult Science and other writings, reference has been made to a point in time when the physical Moon separated from the Earth. It has been pointed out how the physical Moon once formed—together with the Earth—a single body in the cosmos, and how this physical Moon subsequently separated from the Earth. However, this physical separation—or even etheric separation—is not all that should concern us in relation to the Moon’s existence and human life; rather, in the Moon’s separation we are simultaneously dealing with a significant spiritual fact. And let us now turn our attention to this spiritual fact.

[ 5 ] I have also pointed out on several occasions how, in the Earth’s ancient past, humankind possessed what is called “primordial wisdom.” Today we take pride in our intellectual insight, in our so-called intellectual and observational knowledge. Well, certainly, what we know today in this way was not known to earlier humanity; for that to happen, the Earth first had to undergo a certain development, and humanity along with it. Only through this development was humanity able to use its physical body—refined into a nervous system—to such an extent that it could acquire intellectual knowledge. Humanity’s ancient knowledge was instinctive and manifested itself in a different way than most of today’s knowledge does. What humanity knew in ancient times about the mysteries of the world was expressed in powerful, sweeping poetic forms. And in what has been preserved through tradition—what we can trace today in the documents—there is really only an echo of the grandeur and power of the primordial wisdom that humanity once possessed on Earth. Yet today we can be filled with deep wonder when we allow something like the Vedas of the East or Vedanta philosophy to take effect upon us. We admire the magnificent verses of the Bhagavad Gita; we see something great in all of this. Yet we must be aware: these are, after all, merely the final vestiges of something much greater, of something much more powerful that once existed for humanity. And this greatness and power that once existed—humanity owed it to the fact that, at that time, it lived in communion with beings who stood higher in their existence than humanity today and, of course, than humanity of that time as well— beings who did not possess a physical body of the kind found in today’s human form, beings who walked the earth only in their etheric bodies, yet who nevertheless led a life in common with the rest of humanity.

[ 6 ] Since these beings had no physical body, they naturally could not speak to humans in the way we are accustomed to today, when one person speaks to another. But in certain states of consciousness, the people of primeval times—and after all, we were all like that ourselves in our earlier earthly lives— we, I might say, felt in the early days of Earth’s evolution, in particular states of consciousness, how inner sensations and thoughts arose—and we knew that these did not originate from the person experiencing them, just as what we hear today from another through spoken communication does not originate from ourselves. In a spiritual sense, one might say that the ethereal superhuman beings wandering the Earth inspired into human beings the far higher, far more powerful knowledge that these beings possessed. Thus, in our earlier Earth lives during the primordial times of Earth, we had contact with beings of a non-physical nature. These beings are no longer here today. They have not been part of earthly life for a very long time. They have withdrawn from contact with human beings, and humanity has preserved only scant remnants of what it once learned about the mysteries of the universe from these primeval beings—scant remnants that humanity has preserved in various documents. And in fact, one could say that humanity barely understands these scant remnants anymore.

[ 7 ] Where have these beings from the primeval ages withdrawn to? You see, just as the physical Moon separated from the Earth, so too have these beings, in union with this physical world-body of the Moon, withdrawn out into the vast cosmos. I have, in fact, already spoken about something similar. Today we want to learn more about these beings, so that—when we turn our gaze upward toward this lunar body—we can say to ourselves: It is inhabited by beings who were once companions of humanity on Earth and who have withdrawn to this lunar colony. At first glance, these beings seem to have no connection to the outer human being who lives on Earth in his physical body; yet they do have one. And it is precisely this connection that we wish to point out. We can already infer that these beings are connected in some way to humanity’s past from the fact that in bygone times they were indeed companions of humanity on Earth. And they have remained linked to humanity’s past.

[ 8 ] When we consider human beings as they live out their lives here on Earth within their physical bodies, we find that what we call “fate” is woven into the fabric of that life. This destiny, which people have come to refer to by the Eastern term “karma,” appears to be something quite mysterious in human life. But this mystery is not always viewed in its meaningful context. Consider this: At a certain age, two people meet. They have never seen each other before. From the moment they meet, something enters their lives that is connected to what they have in common. They recognize one another, so to speak, and they know that they will now have a great deal to do with one another. But when such people then look back on the life they have lived on Earth since childhood, if they view the matter without prejudice, everything they have done up to the point where they met takes on extraordinary meaning in the sense that it becomes clear to them how they have, in fact, arranged every step of their lives since childhood as if they had intended from the very beginning to take the path leading to that place—the place where they would eventually meet. Looking back from that moment when one met another person with whom one then shares a bond, looking back—one’s previous earthly life often appears in such a way that one can say to oneself: There is my starting point in a distant childhood, but I took every step in such a way that my path was bound to lead me ultimately to the place where I would meet the other person. Everything I did in such a meaningful way—all of that happened entirely unconsciously; what happened consciously only comes into play after the meeting, but the unconscious merges in a wonderful way with the conscious into a single whole. And there is a great difference in the weaving of destiny with regard to what we have so unconsciously arranged as our earthly path in order to meet the other person, and what we then accomplish once we have met them. There he is before us; there we see him; there we understand what he says; there we adjust our actions according to how he expresses himself, how he appears to us in outward life; there we lead a shared life with him that is accessible to our senses and our intellect. But we will see how, into this shared life—now accessible to our senses and our intellect—the very way we lived up to the moment we met once again unconsciously intermingles. We may ask: What is at work and alive in all these directions, in all these forces with which we move toward the other?

[ 9 ] It can also be any event toward which we are moving. Anything fateful comes into consideration here. We will find that there is a great difference in experience between one kind of experience and the other. For we can encounter a person in two different ways in life. In one way, we immediately have the feeling—or we have it after we have subsequently become acquainted with a person or the event—the feeling that we take into our will. We get to know the person; what he is, what he is now doing together with us—we feel it willfully within ourselves. Above all, we want to think as they think, feel as they feel, and will as they will. Indeed, we feel: this person begins to take effect within us. We feel them inside. They stir something within us that comes from them, yet lives within our will, and permeates our mind from the will. We even come to know ourselves better in this way, by perceiving in our will and in the feelings more deeply connected to it that this person is not merely there to affect us from the outside when we look at him, but rather that he stirs and shakes something within us that is already within ourselves. This is one way in which we encounter other people as a matter of destiny in life.

[ 10 ] The other type is one in which we are less deeply stirred within ourselves when getting to know people; in which we view people more from the outside; in which we judge them based on the intellectual impression they make on us, based on the aesthetic impression they make on us. Consider what a great difference there is between these two ways of getting to know other people.

[ 11 ] Just imagine: You get to know one person or another, then end up somewhere else, and you’re tempted to talk about this acquaintance of yours—or rather, about the other person you’ve come to know. The way we talk in these situations differs quite significantly depending on the people we know in life. Sometimes we speak in a way that makes it clear to everyone that we’re fully present in our words, that we’re sharing a part of ourselves by talking about the other person—and we say things that the other person can’t understand at all. We speak of the other person in beautiful terms, but they are ugly, and there are people around who simply cannot comprehend why we speak this way, because to them, this person gives the impression of being ugly. They cannot fathom how we can sing the praises of someone they consider ugly. But it’s none of our business what others find ugly about him based on an external, aesthetic impression; we’re not talking about what reflects the impression he makes from the outside. We’re talking about what he has stirred and shaken within us—what belongs to us—and what we say about this person doesn’t have to match the impression other people have.

[ 12 ] With other people, however, it’s different. In those cases, we can tell at a glance whether they’re beautiful or ugly. We speak in such a way that it’s clear: the intellectual impression, the sensory impression, and the aesthetic impression are what matter. We speak in a way that might lead us to say, “What a splendid fellow!” You know, there are acquaintances in life where it would never occur to us to speak about a person in this superficial way. We also speak in a way that allows others to understand the situation immediately, whether they already know the person or are just getting to know him.

[ 13 ] These two ways of describing—or even of viewing—encounters with people simply exist. However, the first way is the one that points back to the fact that, when we encounter a person, our shared life in a previous earthly existence is stirred and shaken within us. That something points back to earlier incarnations in which we lived together with this person—that is what then comes to light in this way, intuitively, in the first way of assessing a person. And with the second type, we judge outwardly, in a way that others can also understand, because we were not together with this person in previous earthly lives—perhaps we are meeting for the very first time in this earthly life.

[ 14 ] But if we then examine with spiritual insight what underlies this fateful aspect, which manifests itself in such a characteristic way in the first case, we find that before a human being descends into physical life on Earth—as he moves through the sphere of the Moon prior to this descent, after having passed through other spheres, moves through the lunar sphere—what constitutes his shared karma with other human beings is implanted in his astral body; it is implanted in him for his present earthly existence by those fellow human beings who once lived on Earth with humanity, just as I have described to you previously, and who have withdrawn to the lunar existence. These are the beings through whose sphere we pass before we descend into earthly existence. These are the beings who, ever since that time—ever since they left the Earth and the human community—have been engaged in recording the destiny that human beings share with one another. And so it is that we can look back upon what is within us—what stirs there—when we encounter another human being in the first sense; that we find what is within us at the same time in those great books of destiny, which these lunar beings fill with their knowledge of human earthly lives. These are books kept in the spiritual realm. These are books that contain everything we have experienced together with other people. As we pass through the lunar sphere, we read together in these books what we then carry down with us, and with what we have read in these books, we chart our course—perhaps twenty-five to thirty years—until we find that person in earthly existence about whom it was written in the lunar books, before we descended to Earth, that we had experienced this or that with them in past earthly lives.

[ 15 ] The mysterious interconnections in the universe are arranged in such a wondrous way. And so we must look up at the lunar realm with a deeper sense—a sense deepened by anthroposophy—and not merely consider what physical science describes about the Moon, but rather consider what spiritual science can tell us about the spiritual-soul aspects, about the spiritual nature of the Moon. If only one would consider, just once, how everywhere we find parables for what makes this sphere of the universe comprehensible! With regard to the earthly parable, there is knowledge today that is, admittedly, not taken into account in life; but it is, after all, there as knowledge.

[ 16 ] It has also been emphasized many times within our own ranks: Human beings simply renew their physical substance every seven to eight years. As you know, human beings shed the physical substance on their skin, and they trim their nails and hair. All of this points to the fact—and it is indeed true—that human beings constantly push physical matter forward from the center of their being, and new matter constantly follows. What you cut off your nail today was, seven or eight years ago, a substance at the center of your organism; you push it forward, and it then disappears. Physical matter is renewed. Yes, it is true that those who were already sitting here ten years ago must not imagine that the very same muscles and the very same physical constituents that sat in these chairs back then are sitting here again today. Nothing of all that remains; but their spiritual-soul aspect remains—that is here again. The same is true, however, when we look out toward the celestial bodies. The physical observer wants to look only at physical substance and speaks as if the Moon up there were the same one that once separated from the Earth in terms of its physical substance. That is just as much nonsense as if you were to believe that these muscles, these physical components, which sat in these chairs ten years ago, would be sitting there today as well. It does, however, take longer for the substances of the celestial bodies to be replaced, but they are indeed replaced. The physical Moon, of which physical science speaks, is not something one can speak of in the usual sense. What has remained there are the spiritual-soul entities that were fellow inhabitants of humanity on Earth. That which constitutes the lunar existence on which they live has been replaced as physical substance. The spiritual-soul entities that actually constitute lunar existence—just as your spiritual-soul existence forms the connection between your being ten years ago and your being today—these spiritual-soul beings are the ones who, in a sense, record our past.

[ 17 ] What can be described in this way can be explored even more deeply if one attempts to explain it through the science of initiation. So far, I have presented it in such a way as to point out to you how what begins to stir within us in the first kind of acquaintance is what the lunar beings allowed us to read from their books before we descended to Earth. The initiate perceives what confronts him in this way in life in an entirely different manner. He, too, encounters another human being in life: While for ordinary consciousness there is only the inner feeling of accepting the other person into one’s will—without judging them by outward impressions—for the initiate, what actually becomes visible to him is the past earthly lives of the personalities he encounters. It is not only this physical human being who appears with his spiritual and soul content, but, in a sense, behind him, like a shadow, a previous earthly life—perhaps several previous earthly lives. One comes to know a person in such a way that, through spiritual and soul perception, a whole series of people appears before one. At the same time as making an acquaintance, one gets to know a whole series of individuals who are just as tangible as the person one has before oneself in the physical realm. In civilizations where people still had some inkling of such things, they even painted such scenes. Just think: there are, after all, old paintings where you see one human figure, behind it a second one slightly elevated, and behind that a third one slightly elevated. This is what artists sought to capture in their paintings: the impression the initiate gains from an acquaintance who approaches him in such a way that the human being in question reveals to him not only the aspect presented to him in the present earthly life, but also what is presented to him from past earthly lives. Thus, what is merely a kind of feeling and sensation for ordinary consciousness appears with vivid clarity to the initiated consciousness. And it may be said, in the sense of spiritual science, that this is indeed the case: that which is karmically connected to a person and appears as a vision to the initiate appears as a dark feeling not when initiation is present, but when ordinary consciousness is present.

[ 18 ] Thus we can call that which works from our past and weaves itself into our destiny the “lunar aspect” within us. We look back on our earthly lives: the lunar aspect is at work within us. It works in such a way that when we encounter other people, we are actually always encountering a multitude of them when these people are karmically connected to us. For the initiate, an acquaintance of this nature is, in a sense, an acquaintance with several people within him—or at least with several human lives within him. For this acquaintance with past lives is at least as vivid as that with the other person’s present life.

[ 19 ] Now let us consider that other kind of acquaintance, where we judge a person more by their outward appearance, more by what our intellect tells us about them, what our senses tell us about them—things that everyone immediately understands—by the aesthetic impression, and so on. From a spiritual-scientific perspective, nothing here leads back into the past; there are no beings within the lunar sphere who mediate the path leading up to this acquaintance in earthly life; nor has anything been inscribed within the lunar sphere into the human astral body. But other forces are at work here. The forces that are now connected to solar existence as spiritual-soul forces are at work here. The forces—the spiritual-soul forces of solar existence—act down upon this second kind of acquaintance and weave destiny from another direction. Indeed, from a spiritual perspective, it is as if we—I would say—were first experiencing, like the mysterious night, that which leads us to people with whom we have accomplished many things in past earthly lives. Then we encounter this person directly: Now we are guided more by the impression they evoke in us; now it is as if the brightness of day were to replace the mysterious night, as if the sun were to rise. Spiritually, it is the same: now, for those who have long been karmically bound together, not only the past but also the present and the future come to the fore. Destiny continues to unfold. Something spiritual and sun-like draws near to the person.

[ 20 ] But even for those who have not shared any experiences together in previous earthly lives, this spiritual-solar aspect also comes into play in the weaving of destinies in the present and future. And again: the person who views such things with the insight of initiation does not come to know a human being—with whom he was not together in previous earthly lives, but with whom he is meeting for the first time or one of the first times—in such a way that he perceives the shadowy earthly lives behind that person. But when approaching this person in this way, he perceives, behind this person, beings of the higher hierarchies—beings of a kind that the person has not yet attained. Angels and archangels now appear behind the person. Within the insight of initiation, there is a great difference between encountering a person with whom one has already been together and encountering them for the first time. If one has spent a great deal of time with that person, their past earthly lives appear behind them. If one has not been with them, then beings from the next higher hierarchies appear in their background—namely, those beings who descend to us on Earth with the sunbeams, with the radiance of the sunbeams. And just as the lunar beings weave past karma into our astral body, this host of solar beings weaves into our ego-organization—into the subconscious ego-organization of the human ego-essence—that which unfolds after we have encountered another human being here on Earth: that which forms the basis for further karma extending into the future. The present, after all, is constantly transforming into the future. What is still the present now was the future for the preceding moment. So, in fact, our development runs from the past into the future.

[ 21 ] What we see in human beings as a progressive movement from the past into the future, we see reflected in the cosmos outside, as we observe the moon traversing the sky and then, following in its wake or preceding it, the sun. Just as the sun and moon move in their orbits around the world, so do the past and future unfold in the course of human life within the mysteriously woven fabric of destiny. Just as one says to oneself—out of the deepest, most stirring feeling—when encountering a person through the science of initiation: “What you see behind him, what the lunar beings have inscribed in his astral body, belongs to you just as much as it does to him; through this you have grown together with him”—so one says to oneself when, through the science of initiation, one meets a person in the world for the first time: There stand angels and archangels behind him. Each, as it were, points a finger toward the future. — Many possibilities arise there, possibilities for a future life in accordance with destiny.

[ 22 ] You see, when one gazes out into the vastness of the universe in this way, the moon and the sun appear as the two gateways into the spiritual world. And one says to oneself: That which is in the physical environment of the Earth lives in my physical body at this very moment; that which is in the vast etheric spheres, where the stars are, lives in my etheric body. But when I look up at the moon, at the sun, I am looking up not at what is in my physical body, nor at what lives in my etheric body, but at what lives in my astral body and through which my “I” works. There, through the presence of the moon, we are led out of the physical and etheric worlds and into the spiritual world. And again, when one looks up at the sun, one says to oneself: There I am guided by that which, as spiritual-soul elements, belongs to the sun, through a gateway that leads me into a world that is of the same nature as my I-being; not merely into a world that is equivalent to my physical and astral bodies, but one that is equivalent even to my I-essence, through which I appear in the world as a conscious being with that which appears woven into our destiny as a necessity—a destiny we follow because we possess this or that physical disposition, this or that temperament, this or that character. All of this is merely an expression of our karma. — In everything we follow as the necessity of our body, in all that the poet expresses with the words: “This is how you must be; you cannot escape it”—in all of this lives the human past of the lunar existence. And in everything that lives within us as freedom, so that we intervene—we do so out of our full deliberation—there the solar existence is at work.

[ 23 ] Thus, from a spiritual perspective, natural existence and moral existence are woven together into one. In such a spiritual contemplation, we do not have, on the one hand, nature with its rigid necessity and, on the other hand, the spiritual-psychic realm, which cannot enter into any connection with it but lies there as an abstract moral world order—no, we do not have this contrast; we have the possibility of finding, in the phenomena of nature, at the very same time, that which lives within us morally. However, we must then move beyond ordinary natural phenomena to that which presents itself to us in the spiritual existence of the sun and moon.

[ 24 ] You see, it is only in the context of such a perspective that this possibility—of rising from humanity’s natural existence to a spiritual-soul existence—arises at all. After all, we look out into nature in such a way that, as we look out—even if we cannot fully comprehend it with our ordinary consciousness—we are looking at that which, in our earthly environment or even in the environment of the worlds, brings us illness. It is everywhere in our surroundings. Our organism in and of itself is healthy, for it is born from its healthy “I,” from its healthy astral body, and, in fact, also from the healthy etheric body. Here on Earth, the only thing that can make us sick is something that approaches the human being from the outside and that the human being is unable to fully transform in accordance with their inner nature. You can observe this even in the simplest phenomena. Just suppose you are somehow in a room that is a certain temperature—whether warm or cold—and you absorb that warmth or cold. It must not pass through you as it would through a piece of wood or a piece of stone. You do not stand in a warm or cold room like a piece of wood or stone and thereby become warm or cold like wood or stone; rather, you process the warmth that exists outside of you. The external environment merely stimulates you; the warmth you carry within you is generated by your own body. But if you are unable to do this—if you place yourself in your environment like a piece of wood or stone, and your environment treats you like a piece of wood or stone—then external influences penetrate you without your being able to transform them: you immediately catch a cold. Human beings cannot absorb the Earth’s environment into themselves untransformed, not even through food. To believe that is merely a scientific fantasy. Human beings transform food just as they transform everything in their environment. If they cannot do so, illness befalls them: that is the physical cause of illness. But illness also has an element of fate; it enters their life as something fated.

[ 25 ] Yes, you see, if we consider this one earthly life—as we are now, from some point in the 19th or 20th century up to February 6, 1924—if we focus solely on this one human life, then we can already say: If we want to become ill due to our surroundings within this life, those surroundings must have a powerful effect on us. At the very least, heat or cold, or some kind of harmful air, or the like, must affect us. It must be something powerful coming from the outside that affects us and leads to illness. If one merely looks at a belladonna, one does not poison oneself with it. If one has any kind of harmful air far enough away from oneself, one does not poison oneself with it either; one does not make oneself sick. In short, if one merely has an impression on the soul, one does not make oneself sick. A more robust influence must take place.

[ 26 ] But now suppose the following. In the present day, there are so many people who live entirely materialistically, who want only materialistic impressions of their surroundings. In this life, they will reject—even with regard to certain bodily functions—the idea of being materialists: they consume the spiritual essence of plants and the soul-aspect of animals; for if they were true materialists even in their eating, they would have to eat only stones—the inorganic, the dead. But into their soul they take in only ideas, concepts of the inanimate. That which connects spiritually and soulfully with the human soul becomes a source of illness for the next earthly life. There the impressions take effect; there they are transformed so that they can become physically active forces. We carry the fateful aspects of illness from previous earthly lives into our present one because we become susceptible to illness as a result of having experienced certain impressions in earlier lives that were not appropriate for human beings. These impressions now act in the same way that physically robust pathogens act in this earthly life. Everything that was merely an idea, a feeling, or an inner soul-life in one earthly life is transformed, during the passage through the time we spend between death and a new birth, into physically active forces in human life; and we carry within us many physically active forces that were merely soul-forces in previous earthly lives. In this way, we must also find something fateful in illness; we must not, for example, fall into the superstition that illnesses can be healed only by spiritual means. This requires physical means, or means similar to the physical. But when we face the fact with full understanding that the physical effects of the present go back to the soul-related effects of earlier earthly lives, we can say to ourselves: What we would otherwise carry over from this illness into our next earthly life, we heal for a subsequent earthly life by diverting our thoughts away from what was imperfect in the human being and directing them toward what is perfect in the human being. If, for example, we are certain that a particular illness is connected to a materialistic spiritual life in a previous earthly existence, we can be sure that we can only remove this illness by treating it through spiritual perspectives and ideas. Everything that is at work in anthroposophy operates in such a way that it is not mere theory, but is directly connected to life and evokes sensations and feelings in life.

[ 27 ] And what, in fact, does this starry sky—the earthly setting for our contemplation—become when we are able to view it in the light that anthroposophy, when practiced in the right way, radiates? How closely related the sun and moon become to us when we view them in this way as the outer cosmic images of our own past and our own future! How deeply and intensely we then carry within us the awareness of our kinship with the cosmos and the world: We see our past and future weaving our destiny within us; we look outward, gaze upon the sun and moon, and see how the destiny of the world confronts us in the sun and moon, revealing itself externally. We sense in our past something that stands alongside the present and future just as the moon stands alongside the sun in the cosmos. Our reverence, our devotion, and our capacity for self-sacrifice for the universe are heightened when we thus learn to expand our own existence outward into the existence of the world, so that we may perceive, in every detail, the kinship between what lives within us and what weaves throughout the universe.

[ 28 ] You see, helping human beings to grow together with the world in this way is also one of the tasks that anthroposophy sets for itself in its work. And I hope that we—who are gathered here in such large numbers, especially in these branches—will, through such reflections, grow ever closer to this task of anthroposophy: to deepen not only people’s thoughts but also their feelings and their hearts. And the Christmas Conference was held precisely so that this might happen ever more effectively and intensely. This Christmas Conference has pointed out that if the Anthroposophical Society is to properly unfold its effectiveness in the future, it must depart from the paths it has taken over the last ten years; it must move from the outer, social realm into the inner, spiritual realm. It must, as a whole, take on an esoteric character. What will exist in the future as the School of Spiritual Science in Dornach must have a kind of esoteric character, and the entire institution of the Society must have an esoteric character. In this way, the Society will be able to maintain the spiritual life it needs. It must not become externalized, and this externalization has threatened it over the past ten years.

[ 29 ] What have we experienced over the past ten years—and even before that? Take, for example, the fact that a very effective opposition—one that is currently making itself felt very strongly—stems from the fact that this opposition can point to cycles and transcripts of lectures that are not publicly available. Isn’t it true that one would wish such lecture cycles and transcribed lectures existed? How much has one had to resign oneself to such wishes up to now, even though one knew: it is precisely through this that the opposition is provided with the very thing it needs most. We are, after all, living in a time when such things are impossible. That is why, at the Christmas Conference, the Society had to make full use of public exposure. This in no way contradicts the fact that, on the other hand, it is becoming all the more esoteric. But a more intense awareness must permeate the entire leadership of the Society; the Society must, so to speak, be led in an anthroposophical manner. That is why, with regard to what one might call statutes, a completely different approach was taken at the Christmas Conference than in the usual process of drafting statutes. In the usual process of drafting statutes, one says: We commit ourselves to these or those principles. We, too, had such principles in the Theosophical Society in the past. First principle: the formation of a universal brotherhood of humanity; second principle: demonstrating unity among the religions, and so on. I have often pointed out that it is precisely here that what can actually establish the Anthroposophical Society as a reality must begin. Then, at the Christmas Conference, this reality was indeed brought to the fore. There was no talk of principles; instead, it was pointed out: Something is alive in Dornach; there is something living there. And whoever sees something legitimate in the living reality that exists in Dornach joins the Society. The emphasis is not on abstract principles, but on something living, on something that is actually there. And the life of the Society is not demanded in the form of abstractions in these so-called statutes, which are not actually statutes at all, but rather a narrative of what exists in Dornach and what we intend to do from there. These principles are a narrative, not statutes. I have pointed out that the society should have a board of directors—a txt—that, in its actions and initiatives, recognizes what shapes it and what forms it. Thus, an effort has been made to replace abstractions with the purely human, the immediately human, in every aspect—even within the “statutes” themselves. And this is the only way a society can live—a society that is meant to be an organism for a spiritual reality flowing into the world.

[ 30 ] You see, what I want to say is this: This executive committee, which was formed in Dornach at Christmas, is based on a kind of hypothetical judgment. If the Society is willing to accept what it does, then it will be the executive committee; if it is not willing to accept it, then it will be nothing at all. But it will also only be possible to regard it as, I would say, the center of a living activity. With this I can only hint—for as I said, I wish to speak only a few words; everything else is clearly stated in the “Mitteilungen”—that an attempt was indeed made during the Christmas Conference to introduce a new spirit into the Society. But it is desirable that people understand what kind of spirit this new spirit is: that it is a spirit of liveliness as opposed to the spirit of abstractions, that it is a spirit that seeks to speak not to the head but to the hearts. That is why this Christmas Conference is, in fact, either nothing or everything for the anthroposophical cause. It will be nothing if it is not followed up, if it was merely a festive occasion where people enjoyed themselves a little; afterward, the whole thing is forgotten, and life continues in the old rut. Then it has no substance; nothing radiates back to it. It derives its substance only from life in the various spheres of society; it becomes a reality only through what comes of it—what continually takes place in the life of the Anthroposophical Society through it. The Christmas Conference becomes real only through what grows out of it. Reflecting on the Christmas Conference already entails a certain responsibility in the soul to make it real, whereas otherwise it withdraws from earthly existence and will follow the same path that I described today in relation to the lunar being. It was, of course, present in the world in a certain sense. Whether it will have an effect on life as the Christmas Conference depends on whether it is continued.

[ 31 ] You see, we have expressed this quite clearly. The spiritual foundation of the Anthroposophical Society has been laid deep within the heart of every participant. Although we have formally concluded the conference, this Christmas conference was never actually meant to end, but rather to continue forever in the life of the Anthroposophical Society. Therefore, I would like to ask you to take what is published in the newsletter very seriously—truly to regard with the utmost seriousness what will gradually come to you, not only in description but as reality. After all, not everything can be rushed through right now; at first, the question that constantly arises is: How should this or that be done? — Of course, not everything can happen in a single day. You will see, as one of the next initiatives, that in the newsletter, “What Is Happening in the Anthroposophical Society,” you will find guidelines every week—if I may express myself abstractly, in the form of theses. Each week, in short sentences, there will be something about anthroposophical truths as they relate to human beings—human life, religion, art, and so on—and what is happening in the Anthroposophical Society. And there, in the various anthroposophical branches, we will have the opportunity to say: “This or that thought is being sent to us from Dornach as a guideline; let us, in the branches alongside one another, discuss above all else each week what is sent to us from Dornach—the thought expressed in the newsletters.”

[ 32 ] This will bring unity into the various areas of anthroposophical life within the Society. And in this way, many things will gradually come into being that will truly permeate the Anthroposophical Society like blood—not merely so that one can speak of unity, but so that something may be infused into it that can flow through it as a unified spiritual blood. This was the point I wanted to emphasize at the Christmas Conference. At that time, people could sense it; they will continue to see it in the future.

[ 33 ] But this is particularly necessary here in Germany. After all, in Germany one’s place within anthroposophical life is indeed quite different from elsewhere. Elsewhere, opposition is not as pronounced as it is here. One can see that, wherever it occurs elsewhere, it is often imported from here, even though a certain kind of opposition exists everywhere, especially around Dornach itself. But then again, the kind of opposition one faces in Germany is quite unique; I would say: it is a very robust opposition that operates systematically, fully consciously, and in an organized manner. It was therefore a difficult decision to turn the Anthroposophical Society upside down. For that is, in fact, what happened. When the Anthroposophical Society was founded in 1912–1913—well, just consider this: I held no office whatsoever in the Anthroposophical Society, nor was I even a member. I was not a member of the Anthroposophical Society from its founding; I have emphasized this many times, but people simply did not listen closely enough to what I meant, for I wanted the Anthroposophical Society to regard me solely as a teacher—as the one who leads to the sources of anthroposophical life, and so on. And an attempt had to be made first to see what could happen in this way.

[ 34 ] Well, you see, it just so happens that at an age when people usually retire, I am only just beginning; for in fact, I regard what happened at the Christmas Conference in Dornach as a beginning—as a true new beginning in life. And I would like people to feel that we are standing at the threshold of a new beginning. And if one truly feels that we are standing at the threshold of a new beginning—since this beginning holds so much within it—then something can indeed come of it. As I said, it was purely out of necessity that I became a member, and even chairman, of this Anthroposophical Society, and I would very much like people to truly grasp the full gravity of what is connected with the Christmas Conference.

[ 35 ] If we come to understand this, then perhaps this endeavor will indeed make it possible for genuine anthroposophical life to flow through the Anthroposophical Society as all local groups collaborate with what is to emanate from Dornach. With this spirit—and it is this spirit that will be of paramount importance in the Anthroposophical Society—with this spirit, I would like to respond most cordially to the greeting extended to me today by Dr. Kolisko following the Christmas Conference, now that I am among you once again for the first time; I would like to respond with an equally heartfelt greeting, so that greeting answers greeting, and heart speaks to heart: Let us work together in the spirit that was intended by the Christmas Conference, so that the active impulse of this Christmas Conference may never cease among anthroposophists who strive to correctly recognize the conditions of anthroposophical life; so that through this anthroposophical striving, the Dornach Conference may increasingly take on its true substance; that this Dornach “Conference,” through what anthroposophists all over the world make of it, may in fact never cease; that the spirit which was sought to be invoked there—that this spirit may always be present through the good will, through the devotion, and through the deep understanding of the membership for anthroposophy and anthroposophical life.

[ 36 ] Let us work together in this way; but let us also truly regard the Dornach Conference as something worthwhile, as something serious—not viewing it as something we can be indifferent to, but rather as something that truly penetrates deep, deep into our hearts, our souls, and our very consciences. Then, in the right way, the Christmas Conference will not merely have been a week of celebration, but something that influences the world and overcomes human destiny. And everything that influences the world and overcomes human destiny can be the right impulse for anthroposophical work, anthroposophical activity, and anthroposophical life.