The Rudolf Steiner Archive

9. Reflections on the Inner Nature of the Teaching and Educating Professions III

[ 1 ] What I wish to offer you over the next few days is essentially meant to be an inspiration for a deep inner understanding of the teaching and educational professions, and in that regard—building on what was said this afternoon—I would like to present the following to you. You see, we must advance our understanding of human beings to the point where we can truly know, in detail, what happens to a person as they go about their daily life in the world. I have told you that the first activity we observe in a person is when they move their limbs. Now we must ask the question: What actually moves the limbs? What is the active force when, for example, a person walks, or when a person uses their arms to perform some task? What is the active force at work here? The materialistic view, of course, will simply say: It is the person themselves—and in doing so will think of that part of the person which the materialistic view is capable of conceiving. This fragment of the cosmos made of blood, bones, and so on, which is described as the human being—that is what moves the limbs! That is the actual agent! But that makes no sense at all, fundamentally speaking; for that is the object of the movement—it is that which is being moved. And when we ask: Who is the actual subject here—who moves the leg, the arm?—then we do not arrive at the material, but rather at the spiritual. Then we come to say to ourselves: The spiritual itself must set physical forces—forces that we otherwise call physical forces—in motion. Our leg must be able to be moved by a spiritual force just as, say, a piece of wood that we move from one place to another is moved by us.

[ 2 ] But this brings us to something quite remarkable that is not usually considered, because there is a great illusion surrounding it. Our human movement is actually a magical effect, consisting of the mind setting something in motion. In fact, our movement as human beings is a magical effect, and we do not view human beings correctly at all if we do not conceive of them—as moving beings—as being moved in a magical way. The will, which is purely spiritual, must intervene in physical activity. These are magical effects. When you walk, the inner magician is at work—this is something quite essential. How does this come about? The fact that we are physical human beings made of bones, blood, and so on does not in itself make us a moving human being; at most, it would make us a stationary human being, one who lies in bed forever—but we could not be a moving human being. For the will must be directly active here. Materialistic science takes the easy way out when it puts forward the theory: “It’s the motor nerves and so on.” That is nonsense. In reality, there is a magical effect at work here in human movement—a direct intervention of the spirit in physical movements. How is that possible? It is brought about in the following way.

[ 3 ] As I already hinted at this afternoon: When the human being lives from the rhythmic system toward the limb-metabolic system, what becomes of the carbon reveals its kinship with what becomes of the nitrogen, and there is a constant tendency within the human being to form downward-directed compounds of carbon and nitrogen. This tendency exists. One will not be able to fully understand the digestive process itself—and especially the excretory process—unless one takes into account the tendency for carbon to combine with nitrogen. This tendency for carbon and nitrogen to combine ultimately leads to the formation of hydrocyanic acid, and in fact, there is a constant downward tendency within the human being to produce hydrocyanic acid or hydrocyanic acid salts. We do not even have a proper term for what is produced there. — What is produced there is driven only so far that it reaches the very point of just beginning to form; then it is immediately neutralized, specifically through the secretion of bile. Thus, moving downward in the human body, we have a tendency to create cyanide compounds, which are neutralized in their nascent state by bile secretions. But creating cyanide compounds in the human body means destroying the human being. It is the quickest way to destroy the human form—by saturating it with cyanide. This tendency is particularly evident in the metabolic system of the limbs. The human organism constantly seeks to create cyanide compounds, which are immediately destroyed again. But in this moment between the formation and the immediate dissolution of the cyanide compounds, the will takes hold of the muscular system. — It is in the paralysis of this process that the possibility for the will to intervene lies, so that the human being can move. There is a constant downward-moving tendency within the human being to destroy the organic substance through poisoning. It is constantly in its infancy, and we could not move; we could not attain the liberation of the will if we did not constantly have the tendency to destroy ourselves. So that, to put it grotesquely, we have a constant downward tendency to turn ourselves into ghosts and thereby move in a magical way. When a person walks, we must not look at the physical body, but at their will, at the evocation of spatial movements in a purely magical way.

[ 4 ] So you see that every time we set people in motion, we are faced with the responsibility of intervening in processes that are, in fact, processes of death and illness. We therefore have the task, on the other hand, of recognizing that this process of illness is counterbalanced by the process of healing, which lies in what I already mentioned this afternoon: At all times, a process in the lower part of the human being must be counterbalanced by a corresponding process in the upper part. Just as carbon tends to form nitrogen compounds downward, so does it tend to form oxygen compounds upward. The alchemists of old called it the “Philosopher’s Stone”; this is nothing other than carbon fully understood. It has a tendency upward to produce oxygen compounds—oxygen acids or oxygen-acid salts. These, however, stimulate thought, and every time we engage the child in vivid, imaginative activities, we stimulate the production of carbon dioxide and, with it, thinking. Every time we guide the child to do something while thinking, we bring about a state of equilibrium between the formation of carbon dioxide and the production of cyanide; and this is actually what everything in human life depends on—that these two things are produced in equal measure.

[ 5 ] For example, if a person is engaged solely in intellectual activity, the process of carbon dioxide production is actually stimulated too strongly. This results in an oversaturation of the upper organism with carbon dioxide. Now, a proper, tactfully guided musical education counteracts the excessive production of this carbon dioxide process, making the person capable once again of incorporating activity—at least inner activity—into the carbon dioxide process. In fact, when we design a curriculum and, for example, allocate music lessons and other subjects, we are directly intervening in the processes of illness and healing within the human organism. I am not telling you these things today merely for the sake of the subject matter I am explaining to you, although I believe that these matters are among the most fascinating one can encounter in physiology, for it is only through them that one gains insight into the living activity and dynamics of the substances and forces within the human being. In the human organism, illness and healing are constantly taking place, and everything a person does—everything they are guided to do—intervenes in this process of illness and healing. Thus, drawing on this knowledge, one must cultivate a sense of responsibility and a true awareness of what one is as a teacher and educator; one must know how to take oneself seriously in the teaching profession with all humility; one must know that one is aligning oneself with a process that is cosmic in the most eminent sense, that one becomes a co-creator in the very governance of the world by becoming an educator. Today I would like to place special emphasis on the emotional value that such an understanding holds for our consciousness.

[ 6 ] Once you see through this, every single teaching method will become extraordinarily important to you. Think of how often I have said that anyone who insists on teaching only trivial, concrete examples and who wants to teach a child nothing more than what it already understands fails to grasp the whole of human development; for they fail to realize that much of what is taught to a child in the 8th or 9th year of life is accepted by the child only when the child is faced with a beloved teacher, out of a natural sense of authority, because the teacher is meant to represent to the child the entire world of truth, beauty, and goodness. What the teacher considers beautiful should be beautiful to the student; what the teacher considers good should be good to the students; what the teacher considers true should be true to the student. Everything must be built upon this natural authority during the period between the loss of baby teeth and puberty. What one absorbs under the impulse of this natural authority is not always fully understood; rather, it is absorbed because one loves the teacher. Later in life—for example, at the age of 35—it then resurfaces and brings about a profound revitalization of the person’s entire inner being. Anyone who says that one need only teach a child trivial visual images fails to see into human nature; they do not know what a vital force is contained within a person when, at the age of 35, they can bring to the surface what they once absorbed out of love for their teacher. Now you can see what inner significance this has. The process within the human being—which is the balance between the carbonic acid and cyanide processes—is substantially supported and substantially enlivened by the fact that such a thing remains deep within human nature as something that was absorbed out of love in the 8th or 9th year, which then remains hidden and is understood later, after decades. What takes place between the act of taking in and the act of understanding—which in the soul corresponds directly to the balancing process between the lower and upper human beings and the corresponding behavior of carbon—has the greatest influence of all.

[ 7 ] Of course, you cannot apply these things in detail within the individual methods; but you yourself, guided by this understanding of human nature, can enter the classroom and, in one area or another of instruction, make use of one thing or another—and it can then be put to use; for when one possesses such knowledge, a certain effect already takes place. One can distinguish between whether someone possesses knowledge that is inwardly dynamic or knowledge that is inwardly static. For those who merely know that diamonds, graphite, and coal exist—and stop there, focusing only on how these things appear in the external, non-human world—history will not come alive for them. But whoever has knowledge that the carbon found in coal, graphite, and so on actually lives within the human being as a substance undergoing such extensive metamorphosis that, on the one hand, it enters only into life-destroying compounds, and on the other hand, only into life-giving compounds; who, therefore, does not merely speak of the metamorphoses of carbon—which are determined by the Earth’s various geological eras and manifest as diamond, coal, graphite—but who also has a sense that there are entirely different metamorphoses for carbon within the human being, that it becomes alive inwardly, indeed spiritualizes itself, that it can mediate between death and life—whoever can understand this has, in this understanding, a direct source of inspiration. If you can understand this, the right method will come to you in school, and that is what matters—that the right method comes to mind—not that you stand there in the classroom feeling drained, that you can see in the teacher’s eyes that he is drained, that he stands before the children in a bad mood. That is not possible if you possess a knowledge that is inwardly dynamic, a creative knowledge. Then, in all humility, the sense of importance arises that is necessary precisely for teaching. This extends even into the teacher’s facial features. Of course, the facial features are then illuminated by the etheric and astral and merge with the outer form to become a whole.

[ 8 ] A teacher’s face has three distinct expressions and all the nuances in between. The expression with which he otherwise encounters you in life—when he forgets that he is a teacher and is simply chatting with you—the expression he has when he’s done teaching and steps out of the classroom, and the expression he has when he’s standing inside it. One is sometimes ashamed of human nature when one sees the great difference in the teacher’s expression as he enters the classroom and then as he leaves it. These are things connected to the teacher’s entire state of mind. Perhaps it will comfort you a little when I tell you: Every face becomes twice as beautiful as it otherwise is under the influence of active, vital knowledge. Every face becomes twice as beautiful—that is true; but the knowledge must be at work, it must be alive, and teachers’ faces, especially during class, should always be alive, should speak volumes from within. In all that I am telling you now, my aim is not that you know all these things I am saying, but rather that this should have an effect on your spirit and strengthen and invigorate you in the spiritualization of your profession.

[ 9 ] Teachers, especially today, should be aware of their great social responsibility; in fact, they should reflect deeply on this social responsibility. For who else but teachers should be fully attuned to what today’s civilization needs?

[ 10 ] Today I want to give you an obvious example of what is needed to position oneself correctly within modern civilization. You have heard of Mahatma Gandhi, who in the years since the war—in fact, as early as 1914—launched a movement in India that can be called the Indian liberation movement from British rule. This man first began his work in South Africa on behalf of the Indians living there, who were actually in a terrible situation, and for whose liberation he did a great deal up until 1914. Then he went to India itself and launched the freedom movement there. Today I want to speak only about the scenes surrounding Mahatma Gandhi’s final conviction—and even then, not about the preceding trial, but only about what took place as the final act between him and his judge. Mahatma Gandhi was accused of inciting the Indian people to rise up against British global domination and to make India independent. Since he was a lawyer, he took on his own defense, and there was, of course, no doubt in his mind that he would have to be convicted. He first delivered his defense speech—I cannot quote it word for word—but it went something like this: “Your Honors, I ask that you sentence me to the full extent of the law. I am fully aware that, under British law in India, I am a criminal, that I must therefore be convicted without exception, and that, under British law, my crime is the gravest conceivable. I do not ask for mitigating circumstances; I ask that you convict me without mitigating circumstances, to the full extent of the law.” I would also like to note that it is not only the principles of external justice that call for my conviction, but also the utilitarian standpoint of the British government. For if I were set free, I would feel compelled to continue the movement, and millions of Indians would join me. That would lead to a result that I consider to be in accordance with my duty.

[ 11 ] If you consider the content of this speech, you already have something that is very indicative of what is alive and at work in our time. The man thus describes being convicted as a necessity and declares it his duty to resume the activity for which he will be convicted. The judge replies: “Mahatma Gandhi, you have made it exceedingly easy for me to deliver the verdict; for this shows that I am compelled to convict you. It goes without saying that you have violated English law, but you and everyone present will understand how difficult it is for me to convict you; for it is clear that a large portion of the Indian people regard you as a saint, as a man who has taken upon himself the task of fulfilling the highest duties of humanity, and that the verdict I am about to deliver will be viewed by a large portion of the Indian people as the condemnation of a man who has placed himself in the highest service of humanity. But the full severity of English law must, of course, be applied. You would consider it your duty, were you released, to continue tomorrow what you did yesterday. We must consider it our solemn duty to make that impossible. I am, of course, sentencing you in the full knowledge that my verdict will be condemned by millions of people. I am sentencing you while admiring your deeds, but I must sentence you. — The sentence was six years in a hard labor prison.

[ 12 ] One cannot describe what lives and weaves in the present more strikingly. There are two levels of being before us: below, the level of truth—the level where the defendant declares that it is his sacred duty, if he is released, to continue what he must define as a crime in the eyes of external law. We have the level of truth below, in the judge’s statement that he admires the man whom he is sentencing to six years of harsh imprisonment out of a sense of duty toward his government. Above, on the level of what is happening, we have what the defendant, in this case—because he is a great soul—describes as a crime. The crime that is his duty, which he would also continue immediately if he were released. While below you have the judge’s admiration for a great man, above you have the passing of the sentence and its outward justification. Below you have truths, and above you have facts that have nothing to do with one another. They do not intersect at any point, except in the sense that they are set against one another in speech and counter-speech.

[ 13 ] Yes, my dear friends, this is a striking example that reveals how today we have the level of truth and the level of untruth. But the level of untruth is found in public affairs. And the two do not intersect at any point. We must keep this in mind, for it is intimately connected with the meaning of the entire spiritual life of our time. At such a striking point, what is otherwise present everywhere in a less striking, less conspicuous way becomes apparent. But we must first attain a true awareness of what must happen in the present in order to replace what is currently happening with the truth. However, we must find the right path—so as not to overturn everything, of course, and so as not to view what can be done through the lens of some false radicalism that leads to nothing but destruction. We must find a way to gain clear insight and then act at the point where we can have a fruitful impact.

[ 14 ] And it is precisely in the field of teaching and education that the most fruitful work can be done. Even when we find ourselves in a classroom run in a completely tyrannical manner, the teacher can infuse it with what comes from a true vocation as an educator and instructor; but they must possess a passion rooted in an understanding of human nature that breathes life into dead knowledge, and, on the other hand, an enthusiasm that springs from a truly unbiased view of what actually exists in life today. One must be clear about this: outwardly in life, one stands at the higher level; but as a teacher facing a child, it is possible to remain at the lower level. But not by engaging in clichéd pedagogy, but rather by allowing oneself to be inspired by one’s profession, by the awareness of one’s profession—by being liberated from what is coercive in the work of education and inspired by what appears to one as magnificent in the understanding of human nature. Truly, it is sometimes incredibly painful when, for example, one speaks to anthroposophists today and is actually forced to tell people things that—and I don’t mean this in a bad way—turn the world upside down in relation to what people have learned, and yet no one is paying any attention at all. When one grasps the full weight of what it means to speak about something like—let’s say, for example—meteoric iron in the way that was done yesterday, one is astonished at the indifference with which such a thing is accepted. I understand it from those who have learned nothing; but from those who have taken on board the scientific concepts regarding iron, one cannot understand it. But that’s just the way the world is today.

[ 15 ] But the world must not be like this in the mind—and especially in the heart—of the educator and teacher. They must be driven by the awareness that all the knowledge we have acquired through modern scholarship is dead knowledge; and we must create something alive out of this death, and only what springs from this enthusiasm can be of use to us in school. If you are imbued, on the one hand, with what can dawn on you through such an understanding of human nature, and on the other hand, with the awareness of the necessity that truth must be set in place of the lie—which is acknowledged, for there is no more magnificent way to acknowledge it than in the court proceedings I have described to you— if one is imbued with this necessity and knows that it is above all the teacher’s task to set one’s course based on an understanding of this necessity—on an understanding of the stark reality of what truth looks like in public life today—then something takes place within a person that rubs off on every area of life. You will become a different eurythmy teacher, a different art historian, a different math teacher; in every field you will be different if you are, in the truest sense, permeated by this awareness. Everything depends on this enthusiasm. This is not the time to engage in pedantic discussions about the subtleties of this or that method; we must bring life into a world that faces the danger of killing itself further through its dead, intellectualistic ways.

[ 16 ] Basically, we have lost the habit of being inwardly horrified by the things that exist. But simply putting on a bored face in the face of the things that must be rejected in our age of civilization—that is certainly no way to educate. That is precisely why it is so necessary, from time to time, to discuss matters that come from such a perspective that they can stir our hearts. If you walk away from these reflections today with the feeling that what currently governs the world spiritually must change—then you have grasped what I actually mean by these lectures.

[ 17 ] The dragon takes on the most diverse forms; the dragon takes on all manner of forms. Those arising from human emotions are harmful enough, but they are not as harmful as the form the dragon assumes from the dead, the deadly knowledge of the present. That is when the dragon becomes particularly hideous, and one might actually say that the true symbol of today’s institutions of higher learning should be a thick black cloth, which, in essence, should hang somewhere on the wall in every lecture hall. People would know there is something behind it, but it must not be shown to anyone, because that would cast a strange light on what is going on there. And behind the black cloth there should be the image of Michael’s battle with the dragon—the battle against deadly intellectualism. What has been said today is the form in which Michael’s battle with the dragon should live on among teachers and educators today. That is what I wanted to present to you; we must come to the point where we can once again present this battle of Michael as a reality before us, in order to be able to celebrate the Feast of Michael in the proper way. And no one is actually more called upon to intervene in bringing about the Feast of Michael in the right way than the teacher and educator. He must connect himself very particularly with Michael; for to live in keeping with the times today means to crawl into the dragon and continue the old intellectual routine. To live in truth means to connect with Michael. We must connect with Michael when we enter the classroom; for only in this way can we bring the necessary strength into it. And Michael is strong. If we understand Michael’s struggle with the dragon in a specific context, then we will work for the healing of humanity in the future. So that if I were to give these reflections a title, I would have to say: Michael’s Battle with the Dragon, Presented for the Waldorf School Teaching Staff. — We should not even speak of the possibility of celebrating any Michaelmas festivals at this time, but should only consider: how can we cultivate such an awareness in the most diverse areas of life that a Michaelmas festival can be established? If we are indeed able to allow that which permeates us so deeply and warmly in this way to fill our souls, if we can carry that back into the classroom in complete calm and maintain it there in complete calm—not in restless agitation, not in boastful, clichéd speeches— but rather allow oneself to be inspired, in the details of unassuming action, by what can be kindled in consciousness through devotion to this necessity—then one enters into the covenant with Michael, as is necessary for the teacher and educator. I would like to express this in a formula that encapsulates it for your meditation, but I can only bring it up to the school tomorrow.