Anthroposophical Community Building
GA 257
6 February 1923, Stuttgart
Translated by Steiner Online Library
Third Lecture
[ 1 ] In light of the negotiations currently taking place here regarding a sort of reorganization of the Anthroposophical Society, I would like to structure my lecture today in such a way that it might be useful to some in forming an independent judgment during these decisive days. To this end, I would like to begin today by speaking in a relatively concise and summarized manner—more so than I usually do when addressing anthroposophical topics—about what I would like to call the third phase of our anthroposophical work. And then, for the purpose stated, I would like to say a few words to you this evening about the three phases of our anthroposophical movement.
[ 2 ] We hear it said very often today that there was a major shift in Western intellectual life when Copernicus transformed the old view of the heavens into the new one. And when people try to explain what this means, they often put it this way: In earlier times, human beings initially regarded the Earth as the realm of their knowledge, made it the primary focus of their intellectual inquiry, and imagined the entire celestial sphere revolving around the Earth. In more recent times, the other celestial bodies have, in a certain sense, expanded far beyond the realm previously assigned to them in human perception; the Earth has become like a speck of dust in the cosmos, and human beings feel, on this Earth—which is insignificant in comparison to the totality of the universe—amidst thousands upon thousands of worlds, as if they were merely a speck of dust in this cosmic expanse. But today—allow me this sketchy description, for I wish, so to speak, merely to characterize the nature of the third phase of our anthroposophical movement— —I must also point out that, while on the one hand humanity has, in its view, reduced the Earth to a speck of dust in the cosmos, on the other hand it has lost the ability to form any cognitive judgments at all about the rest of the cosmos—except for those that create a mental image of this cosmos according to the concepts of physics, or, at most in more recent times, according to the concepts of chemistry. Today, however—and this is, of course, in keeping with the overall attitude of our modern epistemology—we refrain from considering, above all, that which goes beyond this: a perspective that looks toward the animation and spiritualization of the universe. We are losing the ability to relate in any way what human beings call their soul life and their spiritual life to what shines down upon us from the stars in outer space. Anthroposophy—as you can see from the suggestive sketches in my *Outline of Esoteric Science*—seeks once again to penetrate the soul-infusion and spiritualization of the entire universe, the connection between human thought and cosmic thought, the connection between the human soul and other cosmic souls, the connection between the human spirit and other cosmic spirits, and the creative spirituality of the universe as a whole. Anthroposophy, then, seeks to restore the possibility of recognizing spirit in the universe. As anthroposophy strives toward this goal, it encounters a major obstacle along the way; today I would like to describe this major obstacle quite impartially. There are people who proclaim anthroposophy rightly, quite rightly, and with enthusiasm. In doing so, however, they emphasize that in this proclamation they are presenting a teaching that is not immediately accessible to their experience—a teaching they present as one accessible only to the spiritual researcher as such. This brings about a conflict with the mindset of today’s civilization. Today’s civilization reproaches people when they, in a sense, advocate a certain worldview based on a kind of authority. This reproach would, of course, disappear if both sides were to thoroughly recognize that the results of spiritual research, as understood in anthroposophy, must indeed be arrived at through methods that the individual must acquire in various ways; yet once these results are obtained, they can in fact be understood by a truly unbiased human intellect. However, what could be discovered on the common ground of truly unbiased human reason will nevertheless not always lead to something fruitful unless, precisely on the ground of anthroposophy, something emerges that is akin to a different attitude than the one adopted by many of those who proclaim anthroposophy today. The point is as follows:
[ 3 ] I would like to refer back to my book *The Philosophy of Freedom*, which was published three decades ago. And I would like to point out that in this book I have already referred to a particular kind of thinking that differs from the one generally accepted today. When people speak of thinking today—especially when they speak of it in the most influential circles—they associate this concept of thinking with a certain passivity in the attitude of the human spirit. As the human spirit, one submits to external observation; one observes or experiments, and one links these observations through human thought, thereby arriving at laws of nature, and perhaps also debating the validity of these laws of nature—their metaphysical or merely physical significance. But it is quite another matter to simply have these thoughts about nature—or to truly gain insight into how one, as a human being, relates to these thoughts about nature, which—as we form them today—can only be formed in the most recent times. For the ideas about nature from an earlier time—even from the 13th, 12th, and 11th centuries A.D.—were quite different in terms of the human attitude of mind. For people today, thinking means passively observing phenomena and forming mental images about their regularity or irregularity. One allows thoughts to arise, as it were, from the phenomena; one allows them to be passively present in the human soul. In contrast, in my *Philosophy of Freedom* I have emphasized the active element in human thinking; I have emphasized how the will intervenes in the element of thought, and how one can become aware of one’s own inner activity in so-called pure thinking, while at the same time showing that everything that can in reality be moral impulses flows out of this pure thinking. Thus, I have sought to demonstrate the intervention of the will into the passive world of thought, and thereby the transformation of that passive world into something that the human being carries out inwardly and actively.
[ 4 ] What kind of reading was assumed for this *Philosophy of Freedom*? This *Philosophy of Freedom* assumed a particular kind of reading. It was assumed that, while reading the book, the reader would undergo a kind of inner experience that can truly be compared, externally speaking, to the waking up one experiences early in the morning when transitioning from sleep to wakefulness. One should feel, as it were, as follows: In passive thinking, I was merely asleep in relation to the world at a higher level; now I am waking up—just as one knows in the morning when one wakes up: You lay passively in bed; you surrendered to the course of natural processes within your body; you are now beginning to be inwardly active; you are now connecting the activity of your senses with what is happening out there in the world of sound and color; you are now connecting the activity of your own body with your intentions. - This moment of transition from mere passivity to active engagement—that is what, on a higher level and in a similar way, should arise in a person when reading *The Philosophy of Freedom*. One should, so to speak, say to oneself: Yes, I have been thinking up to now, but this thinking actually consisted in letting thoughts flow within me; I surrendered to the stream of thoughts. Now, bit by bit, I am beginning to connect my inner activity with thought; now it is with thoughts as it is when I wake up in the morning and connect the activity of my senses with the world of colors and sounds, or connect the activity of my organism with my will. - But by having such an experience of awakening—I alluded to this in my book *The Enigma of Man*, where I speak of Johann Gottlieb Fichte—one arrives at a state of mind that is indeed quite different from the one that is common today. But this state of mind to which one arrives gradually leads one not merely to a realization that one must accept on authority, but it leads one to ask oneself: Yes, what are these thoughts that you used to have, and what is this activity that you have now allowed to penetrate your passive thoughts—the thoughts that you merely had to endure? What is it, then, that has entered into your former thinking, just as the soul-spiritual life of the morning enters the body? By this I mean nothing other than the external fact of waking up. That is precisely how one comes to have an experience of thinking that one cannot possibly have as long as one has not come to know thinking as something living and active.
[ 5 ] As long as one focuses solely on passive thinking, thinking is simply that which develops within the human body when that body perceives external things through its senses. But if one allows the activity of the inner human being to penetrate this passive thinking, then one can compare what one previously had to something else; only then can one begin to gain insight into the nature of this passive thinking. And then one comes to realize that this passive thinking actually appears in the life of the soul much like a human corpse in the physical world. When one has a human corpse in the physical world, one says to oneself: Something like this cannot come into being on its own; no ordinary laws of nature can bring about such a composition of matter as lies before me in a corpse. This composition of matter is possible only because the corpse was once animated by a human being, because it is a remnant, a remnant left behind by a living human being who once bore this body. - The corpse as such can only be explained on the premise of the living human being who previously existed. In their passive thinking, human beings stand in the same position as a being that had never seen humans, but only corpses. Such a being would have to perceive all corpses as so many miracles; for they could not possibly arise from what exists in the rest of nature surrounding the corpses. Thus, at the very moment when the active element of soul life surges into thinking, one first learns to recognize thinking as something that is a remnant. One learns to recognize it as a remnant of something. Ordinary thinking is dead; it is a corpse of the soul, and one must become attentive to this corpse of the soul by allowing one’s own soul life to surge into it and thereby come to know the corpse—abstract thinking—in its liveliness. If one wishes to understand a corpse, one must look at a living human being alongside it. If one wants to understand ordinary thinking, one must say to oneself: It is dead; it is a corpse of the soul; and its living essence was in the pre-earthly life; there the soul lived without the body in the vitality of this thinking, and what has remained for me here in earthly life, I must regard as the corpse of the living soul of the pre-earthly life.
[ 6 ] This becomes an inner experience. One can gain inner clarity about this by allowing the will to penetrate into one’s thinking. One must view this thinking in this way, by seeking out the ethical and moral impulses in pure thinking in light of the current development of humanity. Then one comes to be lifted out of one’s body through pure thinking itself into a world that is not the earthly one, and one now knows: What you have in your living thinking actually has nothing to do with this physical world at first, but it is a reality; it pertains to a world that your eyes here cannot see, in which you were before you descended into your physical body. It concerns a spiritual world. And one ultimately comes to realize that even the laws of our planetary system are such that they have nothing to do with the world into which one is now transported through animated thinking. So one must go all the way to the end of the planetary system—I am deliberately characterizing the matter in the old sense—to enter a world in which what one grasps through living thought has meaning. That is to say, one must go beyond Saturn to find the world to which living thoughts are now applicable, but in which one can find that which, coming from the universe, is also creative on our Earth. - Now a first step has been taken in an age that otherwise feels merely relegated to the speck of dust that is Earth in the vastness of space; now a first step has been taken to venture out once more into the cosmos, to have a means of seeing something out there again—of seeing something with living thought. One goes beyond the solar system.
[ 7 ] And if one continues to examine the human will in the manner I did in my *Philosophy of Freedom*—in that work I chose to limit myself to the purely sensory world; it was only in my subsequent writings that I went further, since these matters had to be developed step by step— one comes to the realization that, just as the will penetrates into passive thinking—the kind of thinking one can only endure—and leads one beyond Saturn into the universe, so too, by immersing oneself in the will to the point where, in a sense, one’s entire being becomes still—like a resting pole amid the turbulence of the world of the will that one otherwise unfolds— one proceeds to the other side. When we will within our body, we are actually in motion. Even if the act of willing is merely a desire, there is an inner movement of substance. Willing, as it appears to ordinary human consciousness, is movement. Through the act of willing, a person is, so to speak, placed within the movement of the world. If, through the exercises I have described in my book *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?*, one succeeds in countering this movement—in which one stands within the act of willing—with the stillness of one’s own being, one succeeds, to put it figuratively, in remaining still in the soul while walking through space with the body—it is merely a metaphor, it must be applied to all activities of the will—if one succeeds in being active in the world while remaining calm in one’s soul, in a sense allowing one’s own activity to proceed while calmly observing it: then one carries thinking into the will, just as one formerly carried the will into thinking. Then one emerges from the world onto the other side. For in this way one comes to recognize the will as something that, in turn, detaches itself from the physical body—something that even leads one out of the ordinary laws of the earth—and in this way one comes to know a particularly significant fact concerning the connection between the human being and the universe. One learns to say to oneself: You have within you all manner of drives, instincts, and passions that already lie within the realm of the will. But these drives, instincts, and passions—which are absent from the corpse—do not belong at all to the world you can perceive through your experiments by limiting yourself to the earthly sensory world. They belong to another world that is set within this world and whose influence reflects back everything that lies within this sensory world.
[ 8 ] Today I want only to sketch out these ideas briefly, because I wish to explain the nature of the third phase of anthroposophy. One comes to enter the universe from the other side—namely, the side that is outwardly and physically characterized by the Moon. Just as the Moon reflects the sunlight—not absorbing it, but allowing the sunlight to pass through it as it reflects everything back—so, too, does it reflect other forces of the universe. It excludes them; it belongs to a different world than the one through which we perceive things. We see things through light; the Moon reflects that light back to us—it does not absorb it. On the one hand, through thinking—which grasps itself in inner activity—we are led all the way up to Saturn. On the other hand, by grasping the will, we are led into the activity of the Moon; we learn to relate the human being to the universe, are led beyond the speck of dust that is Earth, raise our knowledge once more toward the universe, and find within the universe something that is akin to what lives within us in a soul-spiritual sense. And when we then have, on the one hand, active thinking imbued with the will in our soul’s attitude, and on the other hand, the will imbued with thinking, and have become conscious of this: on the one hand, we reach the boundary of the planetary system all the way to the Saturnian realm; on the other hand, within the earthly realm, beyond the planetary system, through the universe into the lunar realm—when we feel ourselves with our consciousness in the universe, just as we feel ourselves here on Earth with our consciousness in the earthly realm—and then, with this consciousness, which now, just as ordinary consciousness experiences the earthly realm, experiences the universal-heavenly realm—when we stand within the heavenly realm with such consciousness and attain self-consciousness there—then the memory of our past earthly lives emerges; then these repeated earthly lives become a fact of the world memory that we have made our own. One need not be surprised that the repeated earthly lives cannot be remembered in the earthly realm; for what lies in between is not experienced on Earth, and the influence of one earthly life on a later one comes about only when the human being rises above the earthly realm. How could a person remember past earthly lives if they did not first rise to a heavenly consciousness!
[ 9 ] I wanted to speak only briefly about this today, since I have, after all, spoken about such matters here many times before. I wanted, so to speak, to hint at the areas in which anthroposophical research is active—or, more specifically, has been active in recent years. Those who wish to examine what has taken place here will know how the focus of my lectures in recent years has shifted precisely in these areas. The aim has been to gradually bring about a clarification of how one can move from ordinary consciousness into a higher consciousness. And although I have repeatedly said that ordinary, unbiased human reason can grasp the findings of anthroposophy, I have also emphasized that such a state of consciousness is accessible to everyone today—one through which a person can directly attain a new way of thinking and a new will, thereby feeling transported into the very world of which anthroposophy speaks. What would have been necessary is to move away from reading something like my *Philosophy of Freedom* with the same frame of mind as one might read other philosophical works. One would have had to read it with a frame of mind that makes one aware that one is entering into an entirely different way of thinking, perceiving, and willing. But then one would have known: With this different attitude of consciousness, one rises from the earth into another world, and from the awareness of such a state of mind springs precisely that inner steadfastness which allows one to speak with conviction about what spiritual research can fathom. If one reads *The Philosophy of Freedom* in the proper sense, then one speaks about what the spiritual researcher has to say—who is indeed able to fathom more than the beginner can—with certainty and inner conviction. But anyone can become such a beginner, as I have just characterized him, simply by reading *The Philosophy of Freedom* correctly. This beginner can then speak of the more detailed insights that the advanced spiritual researcher can offer in the same way that someone who has studied chemistry speaks of research results that they have not seen for themselves, but about which they know from what they have learned—from how such things are discussed and how they belong to the real sphere of life. When it comes to anthroposophy, what always matters is that a certain attitude of mind takes hold—not merely the assertion of a worldview different from that of ordinary consciousness. One has simply not experienced reading *The Philosophy of Freedom* in a way that differs from how other books are read. And that is what matters, and that is what must now be pointed out with the utmost clarity, because otherwise the development of the Anthroposophical Society will simply lag far behind the development of anthroposophy. Then, through the detour of the Anthroposophical Society, anthroposophy will indeed be completely misunderstood by the world, and nothing but conflict upon conflict can result!
[ 10 ] I would now like to speak very briefly about the three phases in the development of the Anthroposophical Society, precisely in order to serve the immediate present of anthroposophy. About two decades ago, the proclamation of anthroposophy began—essentially, I would say, for the seeds of it are certainly present, for example, in my *Philosophy of Freedom* and already in my writings on Goethe’s worldview—but essentially, it began two decades ago. And the fact that it began to be proclaimed as anthroposophy may become clear to you from what follows.
[ 11 ] When I gave my first lectures in Berlin—which are contained in the booklet *Mysticism at the Dawn of Modern Spiritual Life and Its Relationship to the Modern Worldview*—when I gave these lectures in Berlin at the beginning of the 20th century, the Theosophical Society asked me to join them, if I may put it that way. I did not seek out the Theosophical Society. What had arisen in those lectures purely from the pursuit of my own worldview was taken to be exactly what they wanted to hear there. This led me to say: The Theosophists want to hear what is to be heard there, and I, in turn, will speak whenever and wherever people want to hear me. - Therefore, although I had not previously characterized the Theosophical Society in a particularly favorable light—I acted that way before, and I acted that way later as well—I saw no reason not to comply with the request to represent within the Theosophical Society what I myself have to represent from the spiritual world. However, the fact that it was presented as anthroposophy may be evident from the fact that at the very same time—indeed, at the very same hour—that the German Section of the Theosophical Society was founded in Berlin, I, quite separately from that, gave my series of lectures on anthroposophy, which was also titled as such. On the one hand, the German Section of the Theosophical Society was founded, and I gave my lecture series on anthroposophy at that time. So from the very beginning, the aim was to advocate nothing other than anthroposophy. And so begins the first phase of the anthroposophical movement, embodied by those who came together at that time to embrace the anthroposophical worldview, first within the German Section and then in wider circles of the Theosophical Society. Throughout this first phase, the Anthroposophical Society existed, so to speak, in a kind of embryonic state within the Theosophical Society. I would say it was a kind of embryo within the Theosophical Society, but it developed precisely as the Anthroposophical Society. It had a very special task during this first phase: its task was, first of all, to counter what existed within the Theosophical Society—which was the traditional acceptance of ancient Eastern wisdom traditions—with the spirituality of Western civilization, centered on the Mystery of Golgotha.
[ 12 ] Now we have the first period of the anthroposophical movement, which lasted roughly until 1908 or 1909. Those who trace the history of the anthroposophical movement’s development will be able to see how everything that is now — not through the adoption of old traditions, but out of an immediate awareness of the present — could be discovered regarding pre-existing life, repeated earthly lives, and so on, and how all of this was oriented toward that historical development within human existence on Earth that has its center in the Mystery of Golgotha and in the Christ impulse. The Gospels were elaborated there, other works were elaborated, and—roughly at the time when the transition of the anthroposophical movement to a kind of artistic revelation could begin, which then initially took place through my Mystery Dramas—anthroposophy had first been elaborated and brought to that central point which lay in the Mystery of Golgotha.
[ 13 ] Then came the time when the Theosophical Movement degenerated into a kind of absurdity, for this movement was simply unable to grasp the mystery of Golgotha and thus committed the absurdity of proclaiming to the world a sort of reincarnated Christ in the form of a contemporary human youth, along with all sorts of other absurdities. It was only natural that a serious person could not go along with these absurdities at all, that these absurdities were ridiculous in the context of Western civilization. But anthroposophy had become so deeply integrated into this Western civilization—so deeply integrated that the Mystery of Golgotha appeared within anthroposophy in a renewed understanding. And this led to those differences with the Theosophical Society, which ultimately resulted in all anthroposophists being effectively expelled from the Theosophical Society. This did not bother them, for the simple reason that it did not change anything about anthroposophy. I myself have never engaged in anything other than anthroposophy with those who wished to hear it, not even during the time when anthroposophy was outwardly part of the Theosophical Society.
[ 14 ] Now came the second phase of the anthroposophical movement. This second phase of the anthroposophical movement was thus based on the most important teachings about destiny and repeated earthly lives; it viewed the Mystery of Golgotha in a spiritual light that was in harmony with contemporary civilization; it also offered an interpretation of the Gospels that brought tradition into harmony with what can still be grasped today through the Christ who is alive, present, and active. In the second phase, which lasted roughly until 1916 or 1917, the first task, I would say, was to take stock of everything that constitutes the outer scientific and practical civilization of the present. The aim was to show how anthroposophy can be brought into harmony with what is scientific today, what is artistic today—in a deeper sense, of course—and what constitutes practical life today. You need only consider such things as the lecture series I gave in Prague in 1911 and in Kristiania in 1910—one on “Occult Physiology,” the other on the European national souls— and you will see how, in the second phase of anthroposophy, the connection with the scientific questions of the present and with the questions of practical life today was worked out. But these are only examples; the task was to seek out the connections to contemporary science and practical life. During this second phase of the Anthroposophical Society, the only thing that mattered was that a number of people could be found in the world who, through their inner spiritual disposition, were able to listen to anthroposophy. These people came together in ever-increasing numbers. Nothing else was necessary except for people to come together who, out of an honest spiritual attitude, were able to listen to anthroposophy. This allowed a kind of anthroposophical community to emerge, and its task was really only this: to do justice to those people who, in accordance with the inner course of humanity’s development in the present, were receptive to anthroposophical insight—and this was the only thing that mattered—and to give these people what they needed for their spiritual development. All that was needed, therefore, was the proclamation of anthroposophy. And, fundamentally speaking, it did not matter whether the adherents of anthroposophy in these first two phases of the Anthroposophical Society gathered in sect-like circles, or whether they came together for public lectures and the like. One need only stand on the foundation of honestly acquired knowledge and say what needed to be said based on that foundation of honestly acquired knowledge. And one could certainly find one’s place within what had emerged as the Anthroposophical Society.
[ 15 ] Another development during this phase was the further unfolding of the artistic aspect. About halfway through this phase, the intention arose to construct the Goetheanum, the building in Dornach. What had been artistically presented in the Mysteries was thereby extended into architecture, sculpture, and painting. Eurythmy was added to this, the essence of which I have often been able to characterize in the introductions to eurythmy performances. And all of this sprang, so to speak, from the source that had just been opened up through the paths I outlined in the book *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?*, but to such an extent that anyone who wishes can gain a mental image of how to walk such paths. A particular difficulty arose for this second phase of the Anthroposophical Society in that it coincided with that terrible period in the history of Europe and modern civilization that was to witness the horrific World War. And it was particularly difficult during this time, when mistrust and hatred permeated the entire modern civilization, to steer the little ship of anthroposophy through these waters—especially since the Goetheanum stood on neutral ground that was not always easy to reach during the period of the blockade. But what could be described as trust in the sincerity of the anthroposophical endeavor was, even during the war, greater than the mistrust directed against it in the postwar period. And one can say: The war years did not actually disrupt anthroposophical work; this work was able to continue. - And it has often been emphasized how a large number of people from the most diverse European nations—who, outwardly, had faced one another with hatred and enmity on the battlefields—worked together peacefully in Dornach, united by an anthroposophical spirit, to erect the building that has now been snatched from us by this terrible tragedy.
[ 16 ] And then came the third phase of the anthroposophical movement, that third phase in which a number of individuals took on all kinds of activities. I have already emphasized, here as well: the content of these activities was good. But the activities had to be undertaken with iron will and pursued in their own right. One had to take on what one undertook—at that time it was called the “Threefold Social Order Movement,” later the “League for a Free Spiritual Life,” the “University League,” and so on—one had to take on all of this in such a way that one knew one was fully committed to it, that one was inseparably bound to it with one’s whole being. In the third phase of anthroposophy, it was no longer possible to maintain the situation in which anthroposophy was simply proclaimed and those whose honest inner sense led them to it came together; rather, it had now come to pass that a number of individuals wanted to do this or that—wanted to do it of their own accord and did so— so that within the anthroposophical movement, all manner of communities arose that were different from the original anthroposophical one. For example, a scientific movement. This scientific movement arose on the basis of what had been established in the second phase regarding anthroposophy’s relationship to science. Scientists came forward. Their task was to provide modern science precisely with what anthroposophy can offer from modern science. But what I had begun—establishing relationships with modern science—should have been continued. I would like to recall lectures that were given during the second phase of the anthroposophical movement. For example, I always drew attention to the fact that one should observe how modern physicists arrive at this or that way of thinking. I took as my starting point what modern physicists have arrived at; I did not initially deny it, but affirmed it, saying: Let us begin where the physicists leave off; then we will move from physics into anthroposophy. And I did the same for various other fields. This approach should have been continued; then a different picture of scientific activity would have emerged in the third phase than the one that actually did. Above all, it would not have resulted in what I already called, last time, a fruitless polemic and a fruitless discussion. And today, the positive task would be to say: Certainly, anthroposophy has something to contribute to science; science can gain a certain continuation under the influence of anthroposophy—this is how it should be done. - Then a different attitude toward science would emerge than the one that appeared in one of the latest issues of *Die Drei* or in a number of issues I had to go through because of the lecture series on natural science that I had to give last Christmas in Dornach. I was alarmed by the way these issues dealt with science and anthroposophy—a way that is harmful to both anthroposophy and science. This fruitless polemic on the part of the anthroposophists only serves to bring a certain discredit upon anthroposophy. In saying this, I have not merely offered a critique, but have also indicated what the scientist has to do today within the Anthroposophical Society.
[ 17 ] Something similar must happen in another context. Let us consider another case. I already drew attention to this last time. In the third phase of the anthroposophical movement, we saw the founding of the University League. This University League emerged with an excellent program; but someone should have stuck to it, should have stood up for it with their whole being. I myself had only to stand up for anthroposophy. If anyone undertook an independent initiative based on anthroposophy, they had to stand behind it themselves. They did not stand behind the program, even though I had explicitly pointed this out when the program was drawn up—I used these words: “One should only draw up such programs if one has the iron will to carry them out; otherwise, one should refrain from doing so.” —So one should refrain from them if one does not wish to stick with them. Those who did not stick with them were the leadership of the Anthroposophical Society. What has emerged? Something has emerged that is returning to anthroposophy—that is, to the living source of anthroposophy: a number of younger people from the student community who, with all their longing, wish to return to genuine anthroposophy and who, for their part, cannot find what they are seeking within the Anthroposophical Society—they have explicitly pointed out: “We want, for example, to approach the anthroposophical impulse from the artistic side as well.” — People came to Dr. Steiner to enter into the anthroposophical spirit through recitation and declamation, if I may put it that way.
[ 18 ] Alongside this, there was another development, my dear friends. It was also the case that, in the third phase of the anthroposophical movement, the spiritual worlds were described precisely as I have now briefly outlined at the beginning of my lecture today for a specific chapter that was, so to speak, elevated into the sphere of purely spiritual contemplation, where one can show how the human being attains a different kind of consciousness in order to enter the spiritual world. In addition to the orientation toward the Mystery of Golgotha and the orientation toward science and practical life in the first and second phases, the third phase—I would say—brought the direct depiction of the spiritual worlds. And anyone who has followed what has been attempted in this direction during the three phases in Dornach—and has also been attempted here, for example—anyone who has had a heart and a mind for the progress that lay therein compared to the first and second phases, and who, in particular, has followed what has recently been proclaimed as anthroposophical content even outside of Central European civilization—such a person will realize that the aim is to establish a true third phase of the anthroposophical movement, one that, however, lies in a direct ascent and further development of the first two phases. And, fundamentally speaking, it would not have been possible to create Waldorf school pedagogy—which had to be created out of both the eternal and the temporal nature of the human being—without this third phase of the anthroposophical movement.
[ 19 ] Now compare all that I have just told you—I do not wish to criticize anyone, but I must speak to you now with an open heart—with the two discussions that took place here yesterday and a week ago, and ask yourselves how the three phases of anthroposophical work have passed the Anthroposophical Society by. Wouldn’t these discussions have been possible eighteen years ago—or, for that matter, sixteen years ago—with exactly the same content as they are now, after two decades of anthroposophical work? Isn’t it as if the Anthroposophical Society were back at the very beginning, at the time of its founding? As I said, I do not wish to criticize anyone in any way, but the Anthroposophical Society can only be something if it is the place where what is achieved in anthroposophical work is nurtured, if those who are active within it—for example, as scientists—are mindful that they must not set anthroposophy apart from science, but rather that they must crown the very latest phase of science with anthroposophy, rather than, through fruitless polemics, exposing—I would say—anthroposophy to the scrutiny of science. Those who work as teachers have a similar task. And in particular, those who work as practitioners would have a similar task; for it is precisely practical life that will raise the most objections against anthroposophy—which can indeed be very practical, yet which people seek most intensely to dispute as being practical. Today, the Anthroposophical Society faces the necessity not merely to observe the actual anthroposophical work and, alongside it, to justify all sorts of things without grounding these justifications in anthroposophical zeal and enthusiasm; today, the Anthroposophical Society faces the necessity of becoming conscious of the anthroposophical work itself. This is a very positive definition of its task, which need only be carried out in detail. Otherwise, if this positive step is not taken, it will lead to anthroposophy being harmed—and increasingly so—in the eyes of the world by the Anthroposophical Society itself. For example, how much opposition did the Threefold Social Order movement bring upon the anthroposophical movement simply because the Threefold Social Order movement failed to understand how to stand on anthroposophical ground, but instead stood on the ground of all manner of compromises, and people in certain circles gradually began to despise anthroposophy. The situation is similar in other areas. What we must recognize is precisely that anthroposophy, as I said in the first of the lectures I was permitted to give here before you, is the mother of this movement. We must become aware of this; it would also have led to finding the proper orientation toward the movement for religious renewal that I myself inaugurated. Instead, only distortions have come to light in this area as well. Today, in this grave hour, the task is to find the words that lead to positive work—to move beyond fruitless talk, as if we were still living two decades ago and as if no anthroposophical work had been accomplished.
[ 20 ] My dear friends, please do not take it amiss that I have spoken to you in this way; I had to do so, for the situation is as I already stated in Dornach on January 6: the Anthroposophical Society is good; the Anthroposophical Society can accommodate even what I have just characterized in the strongest terms. But the leadership of the Anthroposophical Society must become aware of the task that, if the Anthroposophical Society wishes to continue calling itself the Anthroposophical Society, it must carry within itself the awareness that it is the bearer of anthroposophical work. The moment this awareness is expressed with sufficient clarity and good will, the moment the conflicts that have now broken out will cease. At that moment, the crisis will also be over. But it takes good will to actually articulate this, rather than merely engaging in fruitless criticism; nor, of course, to lull oneself into illusions after having brokered a few compromises between this or that movement, only to then sail on in the old rut; rather, it is a matter of taking the anthroposophical work completely seriously. All the individual currents within the anthroposophical movement must work together to bring about this seriousness. There must not be a separate Waldorf school movement, a movement for a free spiritual life, or a movement for religious renewal; rather, all of this can only flourish if it feels at home within the mother movement, the anthroposophical movement. I know that, ultimately, this is spoken from the heart for all those who are sincere in their commitment to the anthroposophical movement. That is why I felt I could express it here before you today in somewhat stronger terms. Most of you will already have realized that what matters now is to express things in clearly defined terms, so that precisely this awareness—the necessity of which I sought to explain—may arise.
[ 21 ] The anthroposophical movement has gone through three phases. In the third phase, anthroposophy was, in a certain sense, forgotten amid all sorts of individual movements. It must be rediscovered—rediscovered as a living spiritual movement, precisely the kind of living spiritual movement demanded by modern civilization and, above all, by the genuine feelings of modern human hearts. Please take these words to heart in this sense. Even if they sounded harsh, my dear friends, please believe that they were meant all the more sincerely—that they are intended not to provoke any caustic reflection, but to inspire a movement springing from a good anthroposophical heart.
