The Rudolf Steiner Archive

See GA 231

The Dutch national society was founded during the autumn conference of the Anthroposophical Society in the The Hague, Netherlands from November 13-18, 1923

My dear friends! You will rightly assume that I have come here to you again with great satisfaction to discuss anthroposophical matters with you and in front of you. Of course, this can happen rarely enough, but it should also be possible for some things to be said on such occasions that they provide direction and thus an impetus for further work on what has been said. And that is always the basis for a meeting, even if we cannot realize this meeting spatially.

This time we have also come together to take this opportunity to form the Dutch Anthroposophical Society. The formation of these individual Anthroposophical Societies is necessary in the present circumstances if we want to create a good, solid foundation for what we need in the present. The International Anthroposophical Society, which is to be founded at Christmas in Dornach, will only be able to be founded if the individual national societies are then represented in such a way that their representatives can truly express, I would like to say, the inner substance of the individual anthroposophical national societies. This will also enable us to carry out something very necessary, very important and meaningful in the founding of the General Anthroposophical Society. If you can feel with me how important these matters are for the present time, then we will all find the right mood for these days. And in this mood, I would like to express my heartfelt thanks for your words and send you all my warmest greetings for these days.

Carl Unger from the lecture “Esotericism” given at the opening conference of the second Goetheanum building on Michaelmas 1928.¹ Carl Unger (1878–1929) was one of the first members of all departments of Rudolf Steiner's Esoteric School and was a member of the leadership of the Anthroposophical Society from 1908 until his death.

The nature of esotericism cannot be described in a few words. I would like to try to gain some insights into the position of esotericism in the present day.

Rudolf Steiner often said that there was always an esoteric element in the various epochs, but that something different was always referred to as esotericism. However, at all times, esotericism included an attitude of mind that lay outside the ordinary life and knowledge of the respective time, a difficult path that first had to be taken in order for people to strive and develop.

I would like to point out the transitions from the third cultural epoch to the fourth and from the fourth to the fifth epoch. The impulse of the third epoch is emerging again in our time, and so there is ample reason to occupy ourselves with it.

From Rudolf Steiner's “Occult Science” ² we know how the cosmic developmental processes of an earlier time become the path of initiation for a later one.

In this sense, we can look at the ancient Indian mysteries as a repetition of the Saturn development in the polaric time, and we can look at the Persian path of initiation, in which the ancient solar development was reflected in its repetition during the Hyperborean time. Then we stand in the third post-Atlantic culture, the Egyptian-Chaldean epoch, which also contains the history of the Hebrew people. Ancient lunar forces well up in the soul, as they had changed throughout the Lemurian period. In ancient Lemuria, man still lived in magical connection with the elements of the earth; to a large extent, he could influence and conquer the forces of nature. We find this magical potency of the ancient times transformed and living on in the mystery centers of the third culture; we must indeed describe the esotericism prevailing in them as magical. What had been preserved as a cultural symbol from that time could only have been formed under the influence of a magical esotericism. Only a select few had access to it, and they were trained for it through tremendously hard and difficult trials. Often selected as young children, they had to undergo years of psychological and spiritual training to prepare them for the organic interaction of forces in their bodies, until they were able to experience the death of the mystic. This required the unconditional submission of the disciple to the teacher, who, by manipulating spiritual forces, detached the higher limbs of the disciple from the physical body and then guided them back again. Initiation could only be achieved through the magical assistance of the hierophant. And it was from the mystery centers that the nations were led and guided to cultural progress through magical powers and powerful suggestions.

The mystery centers themselves were protected by magical means against the intrusion of unauthorized persons. Whoever entered without permission, or whoever did not prove himself, perished. We find allusions to this protection of the holy places right up to the Old Testament: no one except the high priest himself may enter the Holy of Holies; any unconsecrated person who approaches it suffers death. Of course I know that there are materialistic interpretations of this in every detail; they only show that anyone who makes or believes such interpretations understands nothing of the things they are dealing with.

Then followed the Greek period, in which the memory of Atlantis was particularly alive and permeated the mystery being. It had a “secret esotericism”. It no longer shaped directly into the physical and bodily, but it became indirectly effective through the experience of the soul in the awakening consciousness. It sparked enthusiasm, the powers of inspiration, “being filled with the god,” and through art it developed spirit-begetting powers in human life.

To the same extent that the power to protect the mysteries through magic was lost, the secrecy of the esoteric was established and sought under oaths and threats. Those who betrayed the mysteries were persecuted and punished by death.

We still have traces of secret esotericism in the present day in the various secret societies; they cultivate the remains of ancient times in forms and rituals that they endeavor to keep strictly secret. There, too, betrayal is punished.

Today, however, we are dealing with completely different impulses. We have emerged from the era of magical efficacy and secret esotericism, because the mystery has been brought into the light of the public. The Mystery of Golgotha brought the turning point, in that Christ consciously broke through the barriers of old efficacy - and then, with his death and resurrection, “fulfilled” the mystery wisdom of all time, and “before all the people”. The knowledgeable people of that time also recognized this, which is why he was accused of betraying the mysteries. In the New Testament it says of Christ: “For he has done signs before the people,” so they sought “a cause against him.”

Rudolf Steiner presents this fundamental difference between the Christ-act and all previous initiations in his book ² (1902), GA 8, and in many lectures. The Mystery of Golgotha is meant to reach the whole world; it is a cosmic event; in it we have the liberation of the mystery being. Since the Mystery of Golgotha, we must recognize esotericism as a free one; that is the essential point. Rudolf Steiner took up this fact and, during the second period of his work in the Anthroposophical Society, introduced us ever more deeply into the Mystery of Golgotha with the help of the Gospels. By sharing with us the results of his spiritual scientific research into the cosmic deed of Christ Jesus, he opened up a new understanding for us of the biblical accounts as well; genuine and true reverence for the soul arose anew from such insight into the religious documents. Placed in this context, the individual word of the Bible regained its sacred, all-encompassing truth; the individual word was experienced in its esoteric power.

Rudolf Steiner wanted to convey to the people who had come together in the Anthroposophical Society an esoteric teaching appropriate to the spiritual situation of our fifth cultural epoch. He wanted to show them the paths to a Christian esoteric development by further developing the methods of supersensible research in a way that was appropriate for the time of the consciousness soul, based on an understanding of ancient occult tradition.

I would like to illustrate this a little with words that he himself used. Rudolf Steiner once said: People do not consider that in each of my lectures, including public lectures, there is a wealth of esoteric information. The lectures must only be able to be properly received. He said this after it was no longer possible during the war years to cultivate esotericism in the usual way, and members approached him with the request to resume this esotericism. Rudolf Steiner wanted to characterize what he wanted to be understood by “esoteric” in today's world. On another occasion he said: “I would like to draw your attention to an esoteric book that, although it is right in front of everyone, is not understood as such by anyone, namely Fichte's ‘Wissenschaftslehre’ (The Theory of Knowledge). In the same sense, Rudolf Steiner described every table of logarithms as esoteric, i.e. it is part of the understanding of the same that the person acquires the scientific prerequisites through learning, musters the goodwill to work out the necessary preparations. For us, it all comes down to taking such words very seriously.

But how did Rudolf Steiner cultivate esotericism in our society?

Anyone who has followed Rudolf Steiner's path since the turn of the century could have experienced the following: Rudolf Steiner often sought the ground for certain presentations, and it could happen that he shared something from his spiritual research with a very small group, sometimes even only with three, two or even just one person - on a trial basis. He conducted a kind of primeval experiment to see how far the present consciousness could 'bear' these things. He would present some new research result to a few people in this way. One could ask questions and discuss the matters. After some time, however, one could experience him putting the same question to a larger circle, for example to the circle of people who formed an esoteric group. But then it happened that Rudolf Steiner presented the context to all members of the Anthroposophical Society; and if one waited a little longer, he began to speak about the same fact in lectures to the public.

You see how the esoteric, i.e. the spiritual, which is still inaccessible to ordinary experience, had to be introduced step by step into contemporary consciousness. The soil had to be plowed step by step so that the seed could be sown. But these things were certainly meant for all people from the very beginning. Rudolf Steiner broke through the wall that had enclosed the spiritual life of the new era until the end of the Kaliyuga [1899]. Even today there are initiates of different directions, progressive and conservative. Rudolf Steiner, however, wanted to give people everything they would prove themselves ready for. Just as Jesus Christ went through the Mystery of Golgotha for all people, so here too no one should be excluded.

However, it should be noted that the spiritual world also has its laws, and does not allow those who do not have the will to prepare themselves to approach it. The effort that the individual has to expend, the circumstances and the state of consciousness ensure that no unauthorized person can approach the things. The mystery protects itself through itself; today it needs no means, neither of magic nor of secrecy.

In the methodology of the paths to the esoteric, Rudolf Steiner provided protection for the mystery. These paths are such that in the preparation, in what Rudolf Steiner called the “study” of anthroposophy, lies the awakening power for true self-knowledge of the human being. The call, “O man, know thyself,” which resounds from the mysteries, penetrates the soul that is seriously striving for spiritual knowledge of anthroposophy. In the practice of the soul, it transforms the ordinary experience of the self into true self-awareness, out of which a new sense of human responsibility arises: responsibility to the spirit. In the awakening of the spiritual self, the soul feels at home among spiritual beings; under their gaze, a new moral soul attitude arises in it. Just as the 'old knowledge' required protection through magic or secrecy, so the new knowledge is based on the true self-knowledge of the human being and the spiritual responsibility that blossoms from it. This is why Rudolf Steiner brought everything into the public sphere with the Christmas Conference ³. He wanted a new mystery movement whose impulses could lead directly to the Christ event; free esotericism is the only thing possible today. Just as magical esotericism shaped physical events, and secret esotericism awakened new powers of experience through the art of the soul, so free esotericism addresses the human spirit.

• 1. Carl Unger, “Schriften” II, Stuttgart 1966, Verlag Freies Geistesleben. Esotericism (1928), lecture “Esotericism”, p. 224ff
• 2. “Occult Science: An Outline of Occult Science” (1910), GA 13
• 2. “Christianity as Mystical Fact and the Mysteries of Antiquity”
• 3. See “The Christmas Conference for the Founding of the General Anthroposophical Society 1923/24”, GA 260.

When I made some suggestions last Sunday for a renewal of our Christmas thinking, I spoke of the real, inner human being who comes from the spiritual world and unites with the body that is given to him from the stream of heredity. I described how this human being, when he enters the life he is to experience between birth and death, enters it with a certain sense of equality. I said that someone who observes a child with understanding will notice how he does not yet know of the distinctions that exist in the human social structure, due to all the relationships into which men's karma leads them. I said that if we observe clearly and without prejudice the forces residing in certain capacities and talents, even in genius, we shall be compelled to ascribe these in large measure to the impulses which affect mankind through the hereditary stream; that when such impulses appear clearly in the natural course of that stream, we must call them luciferic. Moreover, in our present epoch these impulses will only be fitted into the social structure properly if we recognize them as luciferic, if we are educated to strip off the luciferic element and, in a certain sense, to offer upon the altar of Christ what nature has bestowed upon us—in order to transform it.

There are two opposite points of view: one is concerned with the differences occurring in mankind through heredity and conditions of birth; the other with the fact that the real kernel of a man's being holds within it at the beginning of his earthly life the essential impulse for equality. This shows that the human being is only observed correctly when he is observed through the course of his whole life, when his development in time is really taken into account. We have pointed out in another connection that the developmental motif changes in the course of life. You will also find reference to this in an article I wrote called “The Ahrimanic and the Luciferic in Human Life,” where it is shown that the luciferic influence plays a certain role in the first half of life, the ahrirnanic in the second half; that both these impulses are active throughout life, but in different ways.

Along with the idea of equality, other ideas have recently been forced into prominence in a tumultuous fashion, in a certain sense precipitating what should have been a tranquil development in the future. They have been set beside the idea of equality, but they should really be worked out slowly in human evolution if they are to contribute to the well-being of humanity and not to disaster. They can only be rightly understood and their significance for life rightly estimated if they are given their proper place in the sequence of a man's life.

Side by side with the idea of equality, the idea of freedom resounds through the modern world. I spoke to you about the idea of freedom some time ago in connection with the new edition of my The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity. We are therefore able to appreciate the full importance and range of this impulse in relation to the innermost kernel of man's being. Perhaps some of you know that it has frequently been necessary, from questions here and there, to point to the entirely unique character of the conception of freedom as it i is delineated in my The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity. There is a certain fact that I have always found necessary to emphasize in this connection, namely, that the various modern philosophical conceptions of freedom have made the mistake (if you want to call it a mistake) of putting the question thus: Is the human being free or not free? Can we ascribe free will to man? or may we only say that he stands within a kind of absolute natural necessity, and out of this necessity accomplishes his deeds and the resolves of his will? This way of putting the question is incorrect. There is no “either-or.” One cannot say, man is either free or unfree. One has to say, man is in the process of development from unfreedom to freedom. And the way the impulse for freedom is conceived in my The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity, shows you that man is becoming ever freer, that he is extricating himself from necessity, that more and more impulses are growing in him that make it possible for him to be a free being within the rest of the world order.

Thus the impulse for equality has its greater intensity at birth—even though not in consciousness, since the latter is not yet developed—and it then decreases. That is to say, the impulse for equality has a descending development. We may make a diagram thus:

At birth we find the height of the impulse for equality, and it moves in a descending curve. With the impulse for freedom the reverse is true. Freedom moves in an ascending curve and has its culmination at death. By that I do not mean to say that man reaches the summit of a freely-acting being when he passes through the gate of death; but relatively, with regard to human life, a man develops the impulse for freedom increasingly up to the moment of death, and he has achieved relatively the greatest possibility of becoming free at the moment he enters the spiritual world through the gate of death. That is to say: while at birth he brings with him out of the spiritual world the sense of equality which then declines during the course of physical life, it is just during his physical lifetime that he develops the impulse toward freedom, and he then enters the spiritual world through the gate of death with the largest measure of this impulse for freedom that he could attain in the course of his physical life.

You see again how one-sidedly the human being is often observed. One fails to take into account the time element in his being. He is spoken of in general terms, in abstracto, because people are not inclined today to consider realities. But man is not a static being; he is an evolving being. The more he develops and the more he makes it possible to develop, so much the more does he fulfill his true task here in the course of physical life. People who are inflexible, who are disinclined to undergo development, accomplish little of their real earthly mission. What you were yesterday you no longer are today, and what you are today you will no longer be tomorrow. These are indeed slight shades of differences; but happy is he in whom they exist at all—for standing still is ahrimanic! There should be shades of difference. No day should pass in a man's life without his receiving at least one thought that alters his nature a little, that enables him to develop instead of merely to exist. Thus we recognize man's true nature—not when we insist in an absolute sense that mankind has the right to freedom and equality in this world—but only when we know that the impulse for equality reaches its culmination at the beginning of life, and the impulse toward freedom at the end. We unravel the complexity of human development in the course of life here on earth only when we take such things into consideration. One cannot simply look abstractly at the whole man and say: he has the right to find freedom, equality, and so forth, within the social structure. These things must be brought to people's attention again through spiritual science, for they have been ignored by the recent developments that move toward abstract ideas and materialism.

The third impulse, fraternity, has its culmination, in a certain sense, in the middle of life. Its curve rises and then falls. (See diagram.) In the middle of life, when the human being is in his least rigid condition—that is, when he is vacillating in the relation of soul to body—then it is that he has the strongest tendency to develop brotherliness. He does not always do so, but at this time he has the predisposition to do so. The strongest prerequisites for the development of fraternity exist in middle life.

Thus these three impulses are distributed over an entire lifetime. In the times we are approaching it will be necessary for our understanding of other men, and also—as a matter of course—for our so-called self-knowledge, that we take such matters into account. We cannot arrive at correct ideas about community life unless we know how these impulses are distributed in the course of life. In a certain sense we Will be unable to live our lives usefully unless we are willing to gain this knowledge; for we will not know exactly what relation a young man bears to an old man, or an older person
to one in middle life, unless we keep in mind the special configuration of these inner impulses.

But now let us connect all this with lectures⁵ I gave here earlier about the whole human race gradually becoming younger. Perhaps you recall that I explained how the particular dependence of soul development upon the physical organism that a human being has today only during his very earliest years was experienced in ancient times up to old age. (We are speaking now only of post-Atlantean epochs.) I said that in the ancient Indian cultural epoch man was dependent upon his so-called physical development into his fifties, in the way that he is now dependent only in the earliest years. Now in the first years of life man is dependent upon his physical development. We know the kind of break the change of teeth causes, then puberty, and so on. In these early years we see a distinct parallel in the development of soul and of body; then this ceases, vanishes. I pointed out that in older cultural epochs of our post-Atlantean period that was not the case. The possibility of receiving wisdom from nature simply through being a human being—lofty wisdom which was venerated among the ancient Indians, and could still be venerated among the ancient Persians—that possibility existed because the conditions were not the same as they are now. Now a man becomes a finished product in his twenties; he is then no longer dependent upon his physical organism. Starting from his twenties, it gives him nothing more. This was not the case in ancient times. In ancient times the physical organism itself gave wisdom to man's soul into his fifties. It was possible for him in the second half of life, even without special occult training, to extract the forces from his physical organism in an elemental way, and thus attain a certain wisdom and a certain development of will. I pointed to the significance of this for the ancient Indian and Persian epochs, even for the Egypto-Chaldean epoch, when it was possible to say to a boy or girl, or young man or young woman: “When you are old you may expect that something will come into your life, will be bestowed upon you simply by your having become old, because one continues to develop up to the time of death.” Age was looked up to with reverence , because a man said to himself: With old age something will enter my life that I cannot know or cannot will while I am still young. That gave a certain structure to the entire social life which only ceased when during the Greco-Latin epoch this point of time fell back into the middle years of human life. In the ancient Indian civilization man was capable of development up to his fifties. Then during the ancient Persian epoch mankind grew younger: that is, the age of the human race, the capacity for development, fell back to the end of a man's forties. During the Egypto-Chaldean epoch it came between the thirty-fifth and the forty-second year. During the Greco-Latin epoch he was only capable of development up to a point of time between the twenty-eighth and the thirty-fifth year. When the Mystery of Golgotha occurred, he had this capability up to the thirty-third year. This is the wonderful fact we discover in the history of mankind's evolution: that the age of Christ Jesus when he passed through death on Golgotha coincides with the age to which humanity had fallen back at that time.

We pointed out that humanity is still becoming younger and younger; that is, the age at which it is no longer capable of development continues to decrease. This is significant, for example, when today a man enters public life at the particular age at which humanity now stands—twenty-seven years—without having received anything beside what he took in from the outside up to his twenty-seventh year. I mentioned that in this sense Lloyd-George⁶ is the representative man of our time. He entered public life at twenty-seven years. This had far-reaching consequences, which you can of course discover by reading his biography. These facts enable one to understand world conditions from within.

Now what strikes you as the most important fact when you connect what we have just been indicating—the increasing youthfulness of the human race—with the thoughts we have brought before our souls in these last days in relation to Christmas? The state of our development since the Mystery of Golgotha is this, that starting from our thirtieth year we can really gain nothing from our own organism, from what is bestowed upon us by nature. If the Mystery of Golgotha had not taken place, we would be going about here on earth after our 30th year saying to ourselves: Actually we live in the true sense only up to our thirty-second or thirty-third year at most. Up to that time our organism makes it possible for us to live; then we might just as well die. For from the course of nature, from the elemental occurrences of nature, we can gain nothing more for our soul development through the impulses of our organism. If the Mystery of Golgotha had not taken place, the earth would be filled with human beings lamenting thus: Of what use to me is life after my thirty-third year? Up to that time my organism can give me something. After that I might just as well be dead. I really go about here on earth like a living corpse. If the Mystery of Golgotha had not taken place, many people would feel that they are going about on earth like living corpses. But the Mystery of Golgotha, dear friends, has still to be made fruitful. We should not merely receive the Impulse of Golgotha unconsciously, as people now do: we should receive it consciously, in such a manner that through it we may remain youthful up to old age. And it can indeed keep us healthy and youthful if we receive it consciously in the right way. We shall then ' be conscious of its enlivening effect upon our life. This is important!

Thus you see that the Mystery of Golgotha can be regarded as something intensely alive during the course of our earthly life. I said earlier that people are most predisposed to brotherliness in the middle of life—around the thirty-third year, but they do not always develop it. You have the reason for this in what I just said. Those who fail to develop brotherliness, who lack something of brotherliness, simply are too little permeated by the Christ. Since the human being begins to die, in a certain sense, in middle age from the forces of nature, he cannot properly develop the impulse, the instinct, of brotherliness—and still less the impulse toward freedom, which is taken up so little today—unless he brings to life within himself thoughts that come directly from the Christ Impulse. When we turn to the Christ Impulse, it enkindles brotherliness in us directly. To the degree to which a man feels the necessity for brotherliness, he is permeated by Christ.

One is also unable alone to develop the impulse for freedom to full strength during the remainder of one's earthly life. (In future periods of evolution this will be different.) Something entered our earth evolution as human being and flowed forth at the death of Christ Jesus to unite Itself with the earthly evolution of humanity. Therefore Christ is the One who also leads present-day mankind to freedom. We become free in Christ when we are able to grasp the fact that the Christ could really not have become older, could not have lived longer, in a physical body than up to the age of thirty-three years. Suppose hypothetically that He had lived longer: then He would have lived on in a physical body into the years when according to our present earth evolution this body is destined for death. The Christ would have taken up the forces of death. Had he lived to be forty years old, He would have experienced the forces of death in His body. These He would not have wished to experience. He could only have wished to experience those forces that are still the freshening forces for a human being. He was active up to His thirty-third year, to the middle of life; as the Christ He enkindled brotherliness. Then He caused the spirit to flow into human evolution: He gave over to the Holy Spirit what was henceforth to be within the power of man. Through this Holy Spirit, this health-giving Spirit, a human being develops to freedom toward the end of his life. Thus is the Christ Impulse integrated into the concrete life of humanity.

This permeation of man's inner being by the Christ Principle must be incorporated into human knowledge as a new Christmas thought. Mankind must know that we bring equality with us out of the spiritual world. It comes, one might say, from God the Father, and is given to us to bring to earth. Then brotherliness reaches its proper culmination only through the help of the Son. And through the Christ united with the Spirit we can develop the impulse for freedom as we draw near to death.

This activity of the Christ Impulse in the concrete shaping of humanity is something that from now on must be accepted consciously by human souls. This alone will be really health-giving when people's demands for refashioning the social structure become more and more urgent and passionate. In this social structure there live children, youths, middle-aged and old people; and a social structure that embraces them all can only be achieved when it is realized that human beings are not simply abstract Man. The five-year-old child is Man, the twenty-year-old youth, the twenty-year-old young woman, the forty-year-old man—at the present time to undertake an actual observation of human beings, which would result in a consciousness of humanity in the concrete, human beings as they really are. When they are looked at concretely, the abstraction Man-Man-Man has no reality whatsoever. There can only be the fact of a specific human being of a specific age with specific impulses. Knowledge of Man must be acquired, but it can only be acquired by studying the development of the essential living kernel of the human being as he progresses from birth to death. That must come, my dear friends. And probably people will not be inclined to receive such things into their consciousness until they are again able to take a retrospective view of the evolution of mankind.

Yesterday I drew your attention to something that entered human evolution with Christianity. Christianity was born out of the Jewish soul, the Greek spirit, and the Roman body. These were the sheaths, so to speak, of Christianity. But within Christianity is the living Ego, and this can be separately observed when we look back to the birth of Christianity. For the external historian this birth of Christianity has become very chaotic. What is usually written today about the early centuries of Christianity, whether from a Roman Catholic or a Protestant point of view, is very confused wisdom. The essence of much that existed in those first Christian centuries is either entirely forgotten by present theologians or else it has become, may I say, an abomination for them. Just read and observe the strange convulsions of intellectualism—they almost become a kind of intellectual epilepsy—when people have to describe what lived in the first centuries of Christianity as the Gnosis.⁷ It is considered a sort of devil, this Gnosis, something so demonic that it should absolutely not be admitted into human life. And when such a theologian or other official representative of this or that denomination can accuse anthroposophy of having something in common with gnosticism, he believes he has made the worst possible charge.

Underlying all this is the fact that in the earliest centuries of Christianity gnosticism did indeed penetrate the spiritual life of European humanity—so far as this was of importance for the civilization of that time—and, moreover, much more significantly than is now supposed. There exists on the one hand, not the slightest idea of what this Gnosis actually was; on the other hand, I might say, there is a mysterious fear of it. To most of the present-day official representatives of any religious denomination the Gnosis is something horrible. But it can of course be looked at without sympathy or antipathy, purely objectively. Then it would best be studied from a spiritual scientific standpoint, for external history has little to offer. Western ecclesiastical development took care that all external remains of the Gnosis were properly eradicated, root and branch. There is very little left, as you know—only the Pistis Sophia and the like—and that gives only a vague idea of it. Otherwise the only passages from the Gnosis that are known are those refuted by the Church Fathers. That means really that the Gnosis is only known from the writings of opponents, while anything that might have given some idea of it from an external, historical point of view has been thoroughly rooted out.

An intellectual study of the development of Western theology would make people more critical on this point as well—but such study is rare. It would show them, for instance, that Christian dogma must surely have its foundation in something quite different from caprice or the like. Actually, it is all rooted in the Gnosis. But its living force has been stripped away and abstract thoughts, concepts, the mere hulls are left, so that one no longer recognizes in the doctrines their living origin. Nevertheless, it is really the Gnosis. If you study the Gnosis as far as it can be studied with spiritual scientific methods, you will find a certain light is thrown upon the few things that have been left to history by the opponents of gnosticism. And you will probably realize that this Gnosis points to the very widespread and concrete atavistic-clairvoyant world conception of ancient times. There were considerable remnants of this in the first post-Atlantean epoch, less in the second. In the third epoch the final remnants were worked upon and appeared as gnosticism in a remarkable system of concepts, concepts that are extraordinarily figurative. Anyone who studies gnosticism from this standpoint, who is able to go back, even just historically, to the meager remnants—they are brought to light more abundantly in the pagan Gnosis than in Christian literature—will find that, as a matter of fact, this Gnosis contained wonderful treasures of wisdom relating to a world with which people of our present age refuse to have any connection. So it is not at all surprising that even well-intentioned people can make little of the ancient Gnosis.

Well-intentioned people? I mean, for instance, people like Professor Jeremias of Leipzig, who would indeed be willing to study these things. But he can form no mental picture of what these ancient concepts refer to—when, for example, mention is made of a spiritual being Jaldabaoth, who is supposed with a sort of arrogance to have declared himself ruler of the world, then to have been reprimanded by his mother, and so on. Even from what has been historically preserved, such mighty images radiate to us as the following: Jaldabaoth said, “I am God the Father; there is no one above me.” And his mother answered, “Do not lie! Above thee is the Father of all, the first Man, and the Son of Man.” Then—it is further related—Jaldabaoth called his six co-workers and they said, “Let us make man in our image.” Such imaginations, quite self-explanatory, were numerous and extensive in what existed as the Gnosis. In the Old Testament we find only remnants of this pictorial wisdom preserved by Jewish tradition. It lived especially in the Orient, whence its rays reached the West; and only in the third or fourth century did these begin to fade in the West. But then there were still some after-effects among the Waldenses and Cathars⁸ that finally died out.

People of our time can hardly imagine the condition of the souls living in civilized Europe during the first Christian centuries, in whom there lived not merely mental pictures like those of present-day Roman Catholics, but in a supreme degree vivid, unmistakable echoes of this mighty world-picture of the Gnosis. What we see when we look back at those souls is vastly different from what we find in books that have been written about these centuries by ecclesiastical and secular theologians and other scholars. In the books there is nothing of all that lived in those great and powerful imaginative pictures describing a world of which, as I have said, people of our time have no conception. That is why a man possessing present-day scholarship can do nothing with such concepts—for instance, with Jaldabaoth, his mother, the six co-workers, and so on. He does not know what to do with them. They are words, word-husks; what they refer to, he does not know. Still less does he know how the people of that earlier age ever came to form such concepts. A modern person can only say, “Well, of course, the ancient Orientals had lively imaginations; they developed all that fantasy.” We ourselves must marvel that such a person has not the slightest idea how little imagination a primitive human being has, what a minor role it plays, for instance, among peasants. In this respect the mythologists have done wonders! They have invented the stories of simple people transforming the drifting clouds, the wind driving the clouds, and so on, into all sorts of beings. They have no idea how the earlier humanity to whom they attribute all this were really constituted in their souls, that they were as far removed as could possibly be from such poetic fashioning. The fantasy really exists in the circles of the mythologists, the scholars who think out such things. That is the real fantasy!

What people suppose to have been the origin of mythology is pure error. They do not know today to what its words and concepts refer. Certain, may I say, clear hints concerning their interpretation are therefore no longer given any serious attention. Plato pointed very precisely to the fact that a human being living here in a physical body has remembrance of something experienced in the spiritual world before this physical life. But present-day philosophers can make nothing of this Platonic memory-knowledge; for them it is something that Plato too had imagined. In reality, Plato still knew with certainty that the Greek soul was predisposed to unfold in itself what it had experienced in the spiritual world before birth, though it still possessed only the last residue of this ability. Anyone who between birth and death perceives only by means of his physical body and who works over his perceptions with a present-day intellect, cannot grant any rational meaning to observations that have not even been made in a physical body but were made between death and a new birth. Before birth human beings were in a world in which they could speak of Jaldabaoth who rose up in pride, whose mother admonished him, who summoned the six co-workers. That is a reality for the human being between death and a new birth, just as plants, animals, minerals, and other human beings are realities for him here in this world, about which he speaks when he is confined in a physical body. The Gnosis contained what was brought into this physical world at birth; and it was possible to a certain extent up to the Egypto-Chaldean epoch, that is, up to the eighth century before the Christian era, for human beings to bring very much with them from the time they had spent between death and a new birth. What was brought in those epochs from the spiritual world and clothed in concepts, in ideas, is the Gnosis. It continued to exist in the Greco-Latin epoch, but it was no longer directly perceived; it was a heritage existing now as ideas. Its origin was known only to select spirits such as Plato, in a lesser degree to Aristotle also. Socrates knew of it too, and indeed paid for this knowledge with his death.

Now what were the conditions in this Greco-Latin age in the fourth post-Atlantean epoch? Only meager recollections of time before birth could now be brought over into life, but something was brought over, and in this Greek period it was still distinct. People today are inordinately proud of their power of thinking, but actually they can grasp very little with it. The thinking power that the Greeks developed was of a different nature. When the Greeks entered earthly life through birth, the images of their experiences before birth were lost; but the thinking force that they had used before birth to give an intelligent meaning to the images still remained. Greek thinking differed completely from our so-called normal thinking, for the Greek thinking was the result of pondering over imaginations that had been experienced before birth. Of the imaginations themselves little was recalled; the essential thing that remained was the discernment that had helped a person before birth to find his way in the world about which imaginations had been formed. The waning of this thinking power was the important factor in the development of the fourth post-Atlantean period, which continued, as you know, into the fifteenth century of the Christian era.

Now in this fifth epoch the power to think must again be developed, out of our earthly culture. Slowly, haltingly, we must develop it out of the scientific world view. Today we are at the beginning of it. During the fourth post-Atlantean period, that is, from 747 B.C. to 1413 A.D.—the Event of Golgotha lies between—there was a continual decrease of thinking power. Only in the fifteenth century did it begin slowly to rise again; by the third millennium it will once more have reached a considerable height. Of our present-day power of thought mankind need not be especially proud; it has declined. The thinking power, still highly developed, that was the heritage of the Greeks shaped the thoughts with which the gnostic pictures were set in order and mastered. Although the pictures were no longer as clear as they had been for the Egyptians or the Babylonians, for example, the thinking power was still there. But it gradually faded. That is the extraordinary way things worked together in the earliest Christian centuries.

The Mystery of Golgotha breaks upon the world. Christianity is born. The waning thinking power, still very active in the Orient but also reaching over into Greece, tried to understand this event. The Romans had little understanding of it. This thinking power tried to understand the Event of Golgotha from the standpoint of the thinking used before birth, the thinking of the spiritual world. And now something significant occurred: this gnostic thinking came face to face with the Mystery of Golgotha. Now let us consider the gnostic teachings about the Mystery of Golgotha, which are such an abomination to present-day, especially Christian, theologians. Much is to be found in them from the ancient atavistic teachings, or from teachings that are permeated by the ancient thought-force; and many significant and impressive things are said in them about the Christ that today are termed heretical, shockingly heretical. Gradually this power of gnostic thought declined. We still see it in Manes⁹ in the third century, and we still see it as it passes over to the Cathars—downright heretics from the Catholic point of view: a great, forceful, grandiose interpretation of the Mystery of Golgotha. This ebbed away, strangely enough, in the early centuries, and people were little inclined to apply any effort toward an understanding of the Mystery of Golgotha. These two things, you see, were engaged in a struggle: the gnostic teaching, wishing to comprehend the Mystery of Golgotha through powerful spiritual thinking; and the other teaching, that reckoned with what was to come, when thought would no longer have power, when it would lack the penetration needed to understand the Mystery of Golgotha, when it would be abstract and unfruitful. The Mystery of Golgotha, a cosmic mystery, was reduced to hardly more than a few sentences at the beginning of the Gospel of St. John, telling of the Logos, of His entrance into the world and His destiny in the world, using as few concepts as possible; for what had to be taken into account was the decreasing thinking power.

Thus the gnostic interpretation of Christianity gradually died out, and a different conception of it arose, using as few concepts as possible. But of course the one passed over into the other: concepts like the dogma of the Trinity were taken over from gnostic ideas and reduced to abstractions, mere husks of concepts.The really vital fact is this, that an inspired gnostic interpretation of the Mystery of Golgotha was engaged in a struggle with the other explanation, which worked with as few concepts as possible, estimating what humanity would be like by the fifteenth century with the ancient, hereditary, acute thinking power declining more and more. It was also reckoning that this would eventually have to be acquired again, in elementary fashion, through the scientific observation of nature. You can study it step by step. You can even perceive it as an inner soul-struggle if you observe St. Augustine,¹⁰ who in his youth became acquainted with gnostic Manichaeism, but could not digest that and so turned away to so-called “simplicity,” forming primitive concepts. These became more and more primitive. Even so, in Augustine there appeared the first dawning light of what had again to be acquired: knowledge starting from man, from the concrete human being. In ancient gnostic times one had tried to reach the human being by starting from the world. Now, henceforth, the start must be made from man: knowledge of the world must be acquired from knowledge of the human being. This must be the direction we take in the future. I explained this here some time ago and tried to point to the first dawning light in humanity. One finds it, for instance, in the Confessions of St. Augustine—but it was still thoroughly chaotic. The essential fact is that humanity became more and more incapable of taking in what streamed to it from the spiritual world, what had existed among the ancients as imaginative wisdom and then was active in the Gnosis, what had evoked the power of acute thinking that still existed among the Greeks. Thus the Greek wisdom, even though reduced to abstract concepts, still provided the ideas that allowed some understanding of the spiritual world. This then ceased; nothing of the spiritual world could any longer be understood through those dying ideas.

A man of the present day can easily feel that the Greek ideas are in fact applicable to something entirely different from that to which they were applied. This is a peculiarity of Hellenism. The Greeks still had the ideas but no longer the imaginations. Especially in Aristotle this is very striking. It is very singular. You know there are whole libraries about Aristotle, and everything concerning him is interpreted differently. People even dispute whether he accepted reincarnation or pre-existence. This has all come about because his words can be interpreted in various ways. It is because he worked with a system of concepts applicable to a supersensible world but he no longer had any perception of that world. Plato had much more understanding of it; therefore his system of concepts could be worked out better in that sense. Aristotle was already involved in abstract concepts and could no longer see that to which his thought-forms referred. It is a peculiar fact that in the early centuries there was a struggle between a conception of the Mystery of Golgotha that illuminated it with the light of the supersensible world, and the fanaticism that then developed to refute this. Not everyone saw through these things, but some did. Those who did see through them did not face them honestly. A primitive interpretation of the Mystery of Golgotha, an interpretation that was rabid about using only a few concepts, led to fanaticism.

Thus we see that supersensible thinking was eliminated more and more from the Christian world conception, from every world conception. It faded away and ceased. We can follow from century to century how the Mystery of Golgotha appeared to people as something tremendously significant that had entered earth evolution, and yet how the possibility of their comprehending it with any system of concepts vanished—or of comprehending the world cosmically at all. Look at that work from the ninth century, De Divisione Naturae by Scotus Erigena.¹¹ It still contains pictures of a world evolution, even though the pictures are abstract. Scotus Erigena indicates very beautifully four stages of a world evolution, but throughout with inadequate concepts. We can see that he is unable to spread out his net of concepts and make intelligible, plausible, what he wishes to gather together. Everywhere, one might say, the threads of his concepts break. It is very interesting that this becomes more noticeable from century to century, so that finally the lowest point in the spinning of concept-threads was reached in the fifteenth century. Then an ascent began again, but it did not get beyond the most elementary stage. It is interesting that on the one hand people cherished the Mystery of Golgotha and turned to it with their hearts, but declared that they could not understand it. Gradually there was a general feeling that it could not be understood. On the other hand the study of nature began at the very time when concepts vanished. Observation of nature entered the life of that time, but there were no concepts for actually grasping the phenomena that were being observed.

It is characteristic of this period, at the turn of the fourth to the fifth post-Atlantean epoch, halfway through the Middle Ages, that there were insufficient concepts both for the budding observation of nature and for the revelations of saving truths. Think how it was with Scholasticism in this respect: it had religious revelations, but no concepts out of the culture of the time that would enable it to work over these religious revelations. It had to employ Aristotelianism; this had to be revived. The Scholastics went back to Hellenism, to Aristotle, to find concepts with which to penetrate the religious revelations; and they elaborated these with the Greek intellect because the culture of their own time had no intellect of its own—if I may use such a paradox. So the very people who worked the most honestly, the Scholastics, did not use the intellect of their time, because there was none, none that belonged to their culture. It was characteristic of the period from the tenth to the fifteenth century that the most honest of the Scholastics made use of the ancient Aristotelian concepts to explain natural phenomena; they also employed them to formulate religious revelations. Only thereafter did there rise again, as from hoary depths of spirit, an independent mode of thinking—not very far developed, even to this day—the thinking of Copernicus and Galileo. This must be further developed in order to rise once more to supersensible regions.

Thus we are able to look into the soul, into the ego, so to speak, of Christianity, which had merely clothed itself with the Jewish soul, the Greek spirit, and the Roman body. This ego of Christianity had to take into account the dying-out of supersensible understanding, and therefore had to permit the comprehensive gnostic wisdom to shrink, as it were—one may even say, to shrink to the few words at the beginning of the Gospel of John. For the evolution of Christianity consists essentially of the victory of the words of St. John's Gospel over the content of the Gnosis. Then, of course, everything passed over into fanaticism, and gnosticism was exterminated, root and branch.

All these things are linked to the birth of Christianity. We must take them into consideration if we want to receive a real impulse for the consciousness of humanity that must be developed anew, and an impulse for the new Christmas thought. We must come again to a kind of knowledge that relates to the supersensible. To that end we must understand the supersensible force working into the being of man, so that we may be able to extend it to the cosmos. We must acquire anthroposophy, knowledge of the human being, which will be able to engender cosmic feeling again. That is the way. In ancient times man could survey the world, because he entered his body at birth with memories of the time before birth. This world, which is a likeness of the spiritual world, was an answer to questions he brought with him into this life. Now the human being confronts this world bringing nothing with him, and he must work with primitive concepts like those, for instance, of contemporary science. But he must work his way up again; he must now start from the human being and rise to the cosmos. Knowledge of the cosmos must be born in the human being. This too belongs to a conception of Christmas that must be developed in the present epoch, in order that it may be fruitful in the future.

• 5. Rudolf Steiner, Dornach, 11 Jan. 1918, Ancient Myths, Their Meaning and Connection with Evolution, GA 180 (Vancouver, Steiner Book Centre, 1971).
• 6. David Lloyd-George: 1863–1945. British statesman. Elected to Parliament 1890; Prime Minister during World War I. One of the “Big Four” statesmen at Paris Peace Conference 1919.
• 7. Gnosis: esoteric knowledge in Greco-Latin world of the 2nd century A.D.
• 8. Waldenses and Cathars: heretical Christian sects in western Europe, 12th and 13th centuries. They joined the Reformation movement during the 16th century.
• 9. Manes: 216–274 A.D. See Rudolf Steiner, Nurnberg, 25 June 1908, Apocalypse of St. John, GA 104 (London, Rudolf Steiner Press, 1977).
• 10. Augustine: 354–430 A.D. See Rudolf Steiner, Dornach, 22 May 1920, The Redemption of Thinking, GA 74 (Spring Valley, Anthroposophic Press, 1983).
• 11. Scotus Erigena: 810–877 A.D. See Rudolf Steiner, Riddles of Philosophy, GA 18 (Spring Valley, Anthroposophic Press, 1973).

Words of Introduction before the Lecture

The conference in Vienna that I have just come from went very satisfactorily. Two public lectures were held on September 26 and 29, which were very well attended: the first lecture on Anthroposophy as a contemporary challenge, the second lecture on the moral-religious significance of Anthroposophy. I was then able to give four branch lectures at the conference, in which I dealt in particular with the relationship between anthroposophy and the human soul, incorporating some of the material that has already been discussed here from a wide variety of perspectives: the significance and possible renewal of the Feast of St. Michael.

Then, on Sunday, September 30th, there was a very well-attended eurythmy performance at the Vienna New City Theater. The success of this eurythmy performance has given rise to the fact that next Sunday, the day after tomorrow, another such eurythmy performance will take place in Vienna. The eurythmy performances have also been given a further impetus by the fact that just this evening, while I am speaking to you here, one is taking place in Gmunden in the Salzkammergut. It is possible that other eurythmy performances will follow in Austria.

On Monday, October 1, a meeting of the Austrian members of the Anthroposophical Society took place. The Austrian Anthroposophical Society will now join the other national societies, so that the Austrian Anthroposophical Society will also be present among the national societies at the founding of the International Anthroposophical Society at Christmas in Dornach.

On Tuesday evening, thanks to the extremely valuable suggestion of Dr. Wegman, our medical friend Dr. Glas in Vienna was able to give a lecture and hold a very detailed discussion with a number of Viennese doctors, scientists and medical students at the home of Mr. van Leer. We can already say that just like the similar one in London at the beginning of September, went very well, so we can hope that a lot can be done for this medical-therapeutic side of anthroposophical endeavor.

My dear friends!

We have seen two of the most self-sacrificing members of our Anthroposophical Society pass through death and depart from the physical world in quick succession. Mrs. Ferreri died recently in Milan during the time of my absence, and today is the first time that I can reflect on this departure. Mrs. Ferreri was a long-standing member of our society who worked for it in the most self-sacrificing and dedicated way. Wherever it was a matter of selflessly standing up for something that affected the interests of society in one way or another, Mrs. Ferreri was there.

She was not only active in northern Italy, working from Milan for the anthroposophical cause, to which she was completely devoted, but she also worked in distant Honolulu to establish a branch that is actually her work. Although it is not seen much here because it is so far away, it is thriving in an extraordinarily favorable way and has a warm and supportive effect within the anthroposophical movement. It is precisely from this branch that we repeatedly receive the strongest evidence of interest and participation.

It was always extraordinarily touching to see how devotedly Mrs. Ferreri worked in every respect. And for her, this arose from a deep inner connection with the anthroposophical cause, from that deep inner connection that I would call an inner knowing faith, knowing through its certainty. That is how it was with her: knowing through the certainty of being inside the anthroposophical movement. And so she remained faithful in her heart until her death. She was so faithful that, although she was extremely ill and although she undoubtedly received every help in the place where she was, in Milan, she still wanted to travel here during the last days of her illness because, as she wrote to Dr. Wegman, she believed that she could only recover here, at the center of the Anthroposophical Movement. Only her rapid death prevented her from coming and taking this last step, which was one of the most beautiful testimonies of her loyal devotion to the cause.

I think that we – and I mean the most diverse among us, numerous members who are also gathered here today, numerous other members – have come to know the wonderful mind and noble soul of Mrs. Ferreri in the most beautiful way. and that we follow with our thoughts, in the deepest feeling of our hearts, the soul that has passed through the gate of death and will certainly continue to live in intimate relationship with the anthroposophical cause. I ask that with these thoughts, which linger with the thoughts of the departed, our dear members, insofar as they are gathered here, rise from their seats for a while to unite their thoughts with the departed.

Now, my dear friends, on the occasion of a member who was deeply involved in the construction of the Goetheanum in Dornach, who was actively involved in the construction of the Goetheanum itself, has left the physical plane, and now, at this very moment, the coffin has to be closed and taken away, you will allow me to interrupt this lecture for ten to fifteen minutes to close the coffin and then continue it. It is Saturday, and there is no other way, the coffin has to be transferred to the crematorium in Basel today. (pause.)

My dear friends, now we have had to send the earthly remains of Edith Maryon to the crematorium in Basel. Friday morning, the membership of our Anthroposophical Society, as far as they are here, were affected by the painful news that our long-standing colleague, a colleague since the beginning of the work here at the Goetheanum, Edith Maryon, has left the physical plane. Today it is my task to briefly point out some of the things that the deceased found and gave within the Anthroposophical Society, what she has done here at the Goetheanum, and we will then gather at the Basel Crematorium at 11 o'clock on Tuesday for the actual funeral service.

Edith Maryon sought out what could be found in the anthroposophical movement by first becoming a member of another esoteric group and participating in the most diverse works of this group as a very active member. This was an esoteric group that later found its way into our anthroposophical movement through a number of its members. Then, still during brief visits to the anthroposophical movement in Germany, Edith Maryon came over from England. At first she found it difficult to integrate on the outside, as she did not understand German. But with an iron will she overcame precisely this obstacle and was thus able to fit into everything that was happening within the German-speaking part of the anthroposophical movement in a relatively short time. She identified so closely with the Anthroposophical Society that she participated from the very first task here in 1914, from the perspective of her particular artistry.

Edith Maryon had been a well-known sculptor for many years. She has created sculptured portraits of prominent figures in English politics, diplomacy and society that have received acclaim. It is, of course, difficult to make an impact in the field of art today; but Miss Maryon has, to a high degree, succeeded in making a name for herself in the art of sculpture.

But the most essential thing in her soul was not any particular branch of human activity, even if it were art; the most essential thing in her soul, her soul's intentions, was the striving for spirituality, which, as already mentioned, she had sought in that esoteric group in which she had been before she joined the Anthroposophical Movement. It was mainly this esoteric deepening that she then continued to seek within the Anthroposophical Society for herself and for the striving of her soul. But she was inspired by a far-reaching and comprehensive intention to work with us on our work. And that is what I would like to present here, because Edith Maryon was a long-standing and intensive collaborator, and we have now lost her in her.

I would like to point out how exemplary she was in certain respects, especially in the particular way she devoted herself to the Society in terms of her work for it. Anthroposophy today, my dear friends, is not only a much-challenged but also a difficult thing to accomplish if it is taken seriously. If anthroposophy and the anthroposophical movement are taken seriously, then there is no other way than for the individual to offer what they are able to contribute in this or that field at the sacrificial altar of the work of the society. And so it was with Miss Maryon. She offered her entire artistic talent at the sacrificial altar of the anthroposophical cause. She had grown into a kind of sculpture that one acquires today by going through the appropriate school, by going through everything that then brings about the opportunity to present one's work to an audience interested in art and so on. All this – it may be said, because Miss Maryon understood it perfectly – actually helps nothing within the Anthroposophical movement. Anyone who believes that it helps within the anthroposophical movement is on the wrong track. You cannot bring anything into the anthroposophical movement in a certain sense; rather, you must first leave what you have before if you want to work actively. If you do not believe this, then you do not have a clear idea of the extent to which the anthroposophical movement must draw on the very earliest sources of human development in order to fulfill its task and achieve its goal. And just as it is possible in the most diverse fields, my dear friends, so it was also possible in the field of sculpture when it came to building this Goetheanum, which unfortunately was so painfully snatched from us.

Edith Maryon not only took part in the development of the central group, but also in the most diverse sculptural work that was needed for the construction of the Goetheanum. And it was not always just a matter of producing some model or other. It was also a matter of doing all the work that was not actually visible on the outside, but which was necessary if such a special art was to be integrated into what the Goetheanum must generally achieve. And so, if we fully penetrate ourselves with the awareness from the outset that in Miss Maryon a person has come into the anthroposophical movement who has sought the esoteric in the most ardent, fullest sense, we can throw into the balance the way in which she, who has now left the physical plane, really engaged with the work. That is what I would like to characterize in particular by evoking her memory in you.

It is quite natural, my dear friends, for someone to bring in something from outside, be it this or that art. Anything that is brought in through external training is actually something that I cannot agree with, so that what is brought in is actually not something that I can agree with. Nevertheless, it is necessary for the whole to flourish that the individual contributes his abilities. You understand from the outset that the individual must contribute his abilities. The sculptor must contribute his abilities. The painter must contribute his abilities, and so on and so forth. You understand this, because otherwise I would have had to carry out the whole Goetheanum construction alone. So, in the truest sense, co-workers were really needed for the Goetheanum, co-workers who could bring the best of their abilities, but who could also sacrifice this best of their abilities, because, if I express it in external terms, I can never actually agree with what is brought in.

What I myself now had to accomplish in the field of sculpture was, of course, something quite different from what Miss Maryon could contribute. So what was it actually about? It could not be about working together in such a way that some kind of resultant of the interaction would arise, but it could only be about the work being done the way I had to have it done, the way it had to be done according to the intentions of the Goetheanum, which I had to represent.

You see, my dear friends, what comes into consideration here is that a completely new interest arises: the interest in the work itself. For this to happen, people are needed who have this interest in the work, without anything else, so that the work itself comes about. Whether or not they agree with each other, the work must come about, the work must be possible. In characterizing this, I am characterizing precisely what is needed for the work at the Goetheanum.

And Miss Maryon had two qualities that I would say are most needed for the real work in the Anthroposophical Movement: two qualities on which the work of Miss Maryon here at the Goetheanum and in the Anthroposophical Society in general was actually based. The first was absolute reliability. There was no possibility that anything I intended that Miss Maryon was supposed to carry out would not be carried out, would not be taken completely seriously and taken as far as it could be taken, as far as it was intended to go. That is the one quality needed – I mean within anthroposophical work – so that when I state something about myself, it is then sufficient in the statement, that the fact of the statement can simply stand, and that there is then certainty that the matter will be carried out.

The second was an extremely well-developed practical sense. This can be said precisely with regard to the occasion of passing away from the physical plane, for the reason that this practical sense is actually what we leave behind here on earth when we go through the gate of death, but which is indispensable when it comes to really working. You see, there are many idealists who are mere idealists without a practical sense. And it is good when there are idealists, and the idealist himself is good. But the idealist with a practical sense is what is needed in the world. And mere idealists are dependent on those people who develop a versatile practical sense, if only these practical people stand at the same level of idealism. Contempt for practical sense is not at all what can somehow lead to such work, imbued and permeated with spirit, as is urgently needed within the Anthroposophical Society and movement. People with a practical mind are particularly valuable there. People who are sculptors are valuable there, but also people who, when necessary, can make a lampshade in a place where a special design is needed, who can actually do everything they set their minds to, in a certain way. Of course, this is always subject to certain limits. But we do need people within the anthroposophical movement who can really do what they want, because many people want to do, but the prosperity of our Anthroposophical Society is based on those who can do what they want.

Fichte's saying has also been quoted here often: Man can do what he should, and when he says, I cannot, he will not.

These two qualities then led Miss Maryon to do a great deal, which was done in a quiet, calm manner, after she had actually only sporadically brought her own sculpture to bear, and without which the work of the last few years would not have been possible.

In doing so, she extended her practical interest and sense to other things, which certainly helped our movement. It is thanks to her selfless efforts that the teacher training course was held here, which was attended by English teachers and was held around Christmas time some time ago. It is thanks to her selfless efforts that Mrs. Mackenzie has campaigned so energetically for the movement in the field of education in English-speaking countries. Finally, it is also due to her selfless efforts that the Oxford course was able to take place, the Stratford Shakespeare visit was able to take place and many other things were able to take place precisely because of her mediation between the anthroposophical center and the English-speaking regions.

It was extremely valuable that she, on the other hand, never encountered strong resistance in her work when it came to completely changing an intention that was dear to her. For example, the idea of the eurythmy figures originated with her, as did the first attempts to make such eurythmy figures. The idea was extraordinarily fruitful. But the form of the eurythmy figures had to be completely changed. Miss Maryon never shrank from completely changing anything to suit the circumstances, so that the resistance of an attachment did not work in this direction.

And so I may say, my dear friends, that through her work, many quiet and peaceful tasks have been accomplished for the Anthroposophical Society, for which it has every reason to be deeply grateful. I do not even want to look so much at the quantity, certainly, in terms of quantity, very many achieve very much, but in terms of the quality of the work, of the way this work is integrated into the anthroposophical cause, very much has been achieved by those who have passed away that is actually irreplaceable. Only that which has a special inner quality is irreplaceable in the development of humanity. Of course, even such things can be replaced, but then an equal inner quality comes. As a rule, however, they are not replaced in the process of development. And it must be reckoned with this karma that precisely this special quality of Miss Maryon will be lacking in the building of the second Goetheanum.

The most remarkable chains of fate are connected with the construction of the first and second Goetheanum. The germ of Miss Maryon's illness was laid during the night of the fire at the Goetheanum. And from what was laid by that germ during the night of the fire at the Goetheanum, she could not be cured, no matter how careful the care. These are karmic connections. And although much can and must be done through the art of healing against these karmic connections, karma is nevertheless an iron law, and only when even the most careful care has failed can we truly think of karma. While a person is still on the physical plane, we must think only of how he can be cured. And in this direction, through the completely self-sacrificing efforts of Dr. Wegman, everything that could be done has been done. Edith Maryon also left the physical plane at Dr. Wegman's side – I myself was unable to be present due to other commitments.

Now, my dear friends, I have thus pointed out the special kind of connection that existed between the Anthroposophical Society and Edith Maryon. And I believe that this kind of connection will be what makes Miss Maryon unforgettable for the Anthroposophical Society. She will be unforgettable to all those members whom she has met in one way or another over the years, and I may call out to her in particular what is still to be said about the deceased when we have the funeral service at the Basel Crematorium at eleven o'clock on Tuesday.

What I had to say today should culminate in showing how a quiet, self-sacrificing working life within the anthroposophical cause has been effective here, that it is irreplaceable, and that I am certain that those who understand what it actually means to work in a leading position within the anthroposophical movement, as I must do, will take what has been said in an understanding sense. It is not easy to work responsibly within the anthroposophical movement.

My dear friends, please regard what I am about to say about Miss Maryon's death as something that I would like to say to you in general today. This leadership, what does it require? This leadership requires the following, and in particular, since the Christmas Conference, I have often had to point out what this leadership of the anthroposophical movement requires. It requires that I myself be able to carry up to the spiritual world what happens in connection with me, so that I am not only fulfilling a responsibility towards something here on the physical plane, but a responsibility that goes up into the spiritual worlds. And you see, if you want to participate in the right way, you have to be willing to participate in what the anthroposophical movement has become since the Christmas Conference, to understand what it means to be accountable to the spiritual world for the anthroposophical movement.

I could talk a lot about this topic, and I would like to say one of the many things on this very occasion. Of course, a wide range of personal matters are expressed by people in the anthroposophical movement. What is represented on earth as personal, when it mixes with what is supposed to happen for the anthroposophical cause, is an element that, when it remains personal, cannot be justified to the spiritual world. And what difficulties arise for someone who has to justify a matter to the spiritual world when they sometimes have to bring with them what they have to answer for, which comes from the personal aspirations of the people involved. You should be aware of the effect this has. It causes the most dreadful setbacks from the spiritual world when one has to face the spiritual world in the following way.

Every person working in the anthroposophical movement is working with personal ambitions, personal intentions, personal qualities into that which they are working with. Now one has these personal ambitions, these personal tendencies. Most people are unaware that they are personal; most people consider what they do to be impersonal because they deceive themselves about the personal and the impersonal. This is then to be taken along. And this has the most dreadful repercussions from the spiritual world on those who have to carry these things, which arise from personalities, into the spiritual world.

These are the inner difficulties, my dear friends, that arise for a movement such as that of Anthroposophy within the Anthroposophical Society. And it must be pointed out. It is certainly terrible that we have such terrible opponents, but these opponents must be treated in the right way in some way. But as regards the inner life, as regards how anthroposophy is to be represented, it is much more terrible when it becomes necessary to carry the fruits of the labors of the anthroposophical movement burdened up into the spiritual world, burdened with the personal interests of one or other. And little thought is actually given to this fact.

This is what I must mention when I want to characterize the particular achievement of Edith Maryon. And in this respect, the Anthroposophical Society owes a great debt of gratitude to the departed, because she has increasingly understood how to carry out her work in this spirit. These are the things I wanted to and should mention today, based on the idea that such achievements, symbolically speaking, are truly entered in the golden book of the Anthroposophical Society, and above all should be entered in the books of the hearts of its members.

I am sure you would also want me to place what is to be developed today and on Tuesday at the cremation in your hearts in such a way that I ask you to direct your thoughts to her, who has entered the spiritual world, for her thoughts will most certainly be with the further progress of the Anthroposophical Movement. And because of the way she has engaged with it, her thoughts will be full of strength, and it will therefore also be a powerful experience to connect with her thoughts. And as a sign that this is our will, we will rise from our seats in honor of the departed, in the certain confidence that a beautiful, lasting, and powerful connection for the anthroposophical movement has been created.

Now, my dear friends, I have said all I wanted to say today, which in a sense is also connected with the idea of karma, for life and teaching are connected for us, already incorporated into the two obituaries that I had to speak with a heavy heart today. It will now be my task to continue the reflections on karma so that what we have gained from the consideration of individual karmic connections in the human world can now be applied when we ask the big question in our own hearts, in our individual being, how what we personally experience, what we see as often overwhelming, often distressing events in our environment, what we see that is distressing, that we are distressing part of, how that relates to karma, if we want to observe it in a fateful, karmic way, if we want to come to a powerful effect in life by observing the Katmas. This will be able to follow on from the karmic considerations that we have been practising for weeks and which we will then begin to develop in this way tomorrow, applying them specifically to the individual human being, that is to say to individual human experience, to the personal position of the human being in relation to karma.

If now we go forward from Easter, the spring festival, we shall need to penetrate much more spiritually into the subject than we had to do in considering the previous seasons of the year. This may sound like a contradiction, but it is not so. In thinking of the Christmas season, we had to start from the way in which earthly mineral limestone is gradually transformed, and we carried this thought over to the time of Easter. In general, we have been turning our eyes on the active working of the spiritual in the material realm. Now in summer, high summer, man is really bound up with the being of Nature. From spring onwards into summer, Nature becomes constantly more active, more satisfied inwardly, and man with his whole being is woven into this mood of Nature. We can indeed say that in high summer man experiences a kind of Nature-consciousness. During spring, if he has the perception and feeling for it, he becomes one with all that is growing and sprouting. He blossoms with the flower, germinates with the plant, fruits with the plant, enters into everything that lives and has its being in the world outside. In this way he spreads out his own being over the being of Nature, and a kind of Nature-consciousness arises in him. Then, since in autumn Nature dies away and thus bears death within itself, man too, if he participates in what autumn—the time of Michaelmas—means for Nature, must experience in himself this dying away; but with his own self he must not take part in it. He must raise himself above it. In place precisely of a Nature-consciousness, a strengthening of his self-consciousness must occur. But in the glow of summer, just because a Nature-consciousness is then at its height in man, it is all the more necessary for the cosmos that—if only man is willing—the cosmos should bring the spiritual to meet him.

Hence we can say: In summer man is bound up with Nature, but, if he has the right feeling and perception for it, objective spirituality comes towards him from out of Nature's interweaving life. And so, to find the essential human being during the St. John's time, at midsummer, we must turn to the objective spirituality in the outer world, and this is present everywhere in Nature. Only in outward appearance is Nature the sprouting, budding—one might say the sleeping—being which calls forth from the powers of sleep the forces of vegetative growth, in which a kind of sleeping Nature-life is given form. But in this sleeping Nature, if only man has the perception for it, the spiritual which animates and weaves through everything in Nature is revealed.

So it is that if we follow Nature in high summer with deepened spiritual insight and with perceptive eyes, we find our gaze directed to the depths of the Earth itself. We find that the minerals down there send their inner crystal-forming process towards us more vividly than at any other time of the year. If we look with Imaginative perception into the depths of the Earth at St. John's-tide, we really have the impression that down there are the crystalline forms in which the hard earth consolidates itself—the very crystalline forms which gain their full beauty at the height of summer. At midsummer everything down below the earth shapes itself into lines, angles and surfaces. If we are to have an impression of it as a whole, we must picture this crystallising process as an interweaving activity, coloured throughout with deep blue.

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I will try to show it on the blackboard, though of course I can do so only in a quite sketchy way. So we can say: On looking downwards, we have an impression of line-like forms, suffused with blue, and everywhere the blue is shot through with lines which sparkle like silver, so that everywhere within the silver-sparkling blue the crystallising process (white) can be discerned. It is as though Nature wishes to present her formative power in a wonderful plastic design, but a design that cannot be seen in the way we see with ordinary eyes. It is seen in such a way that one really feels oneself dissolved into the plastic design, and feels every silver-gleaming line down there to be within oneself, part of oneself. One feels that as a human form one has grown out of the blue depths of the earth's crust, and one feels oneself inwardly permeated with force by the silver-gleaming crystal lines. All this one feels as part of one's own being. And if one comes to oneself and asks—How is it that these silver-sparkling crystal lines and waves are working within myself? What is it that lives and works there, silver-gleaming in the blue of the Earth?—then one knows: That is cosmic Will. And one has the feeling of standing upon cosmic Will.

So it is when one looks down into the depths of the Earth. And if one looks up to the heights, how is it then? The impression one has is of out-spreading cosmic Intelligence. Human intelligence—as I have often said—is not of much value at its present stage. But the heavens at midsummer give one the feeling that cosmic Intelligence is alive everywhere—the intelligence not of single beings but of many beings who live together and within one another. Thus we have up there the out-spreading Intelligence woven through with light; the living Intelligence shining forth (yellow) as the polaric opposite of the Will. And while down below we feel—in that blue darkness everything is experienced only as forces, up above we feel—everything is such that in perceiving it we are illumined, permeated, with a feeling of intelligence.

And now within this radiant activity there appears—I cannot put it otherwise—a Form. When we were speaking of autumn, I had to name Michael as the most significant figure who rises before our souls out of the weaving of Nature. As to how Gabriel—to use the old name—enters into the time of Christmas, we shall have more to say. In the last lecture I showed you how at Easter, the season of spring, the figure of Raphael comes before us. He comes in dramatic guise, as the mediator who arouses in us the rightful approach, through reverence and worship, to what the Easter Imagination, the cosmic Easter Imagination, is. And now, for the St. John's time, there comes before us—to describe it in human terms, which are of course bound to be only approximate—an extraordinarily earnest countenance, which arises glowing warmly out of the pervading radiant Intelligence (red head in the yellow). We have the impression that this figure forms its body of light out of the radiant Intelligence. And for this to happen at the height of summer, something I have already described must come in: the elemental spirits of the Earth must soar upwards. As they do so, they weave themselves into the shining Intelligence up above, and the shining Intelligence receives them into itself. And out of that gleaming radiance the figure I have just mentioned takes form.

This form was divined by the old instinctive clairvoyance, and we can give it the same name by which it was known then. We can say: In summer, Uriel appears in the midst of the shining Intelligence.

It is with great earnestness that this representative of the weaving cosmic forces, seeking to embody himself in a vesture of light, appears in the time of summer. There are further things we can observe as the deeds accomplished by Uriel in the radiant light—Uriel, whose own intelligence arises fundamentally from the working together of the planetary forces of our planetary system, supported by the working of the fixed stars of the Zodiac; Uriel, who in his thoughts preserves the thoughts of the cosmos. And so, quite directly, the feeling comes: You clouds of summer, radiant with Intelligence, in which are reflected up above the blue crystal-formations of the earth below, just as these blue crystal-formations mirror in turn the shining Intelligence of the summer clouds—out of your shining there appears in high summer, with earnest countenance, a concentrated Imagination of Cosmic Understanding.

Now the deeds of this embodied cosmic Understanding, this cosmic Intelligence, are woven in light. Through the power of attraction residing in the concentrated cosmic Intelligence of Uriel, the silver forces (white) are drawn upwards, and in the light of this inwardly shining Intelligence, as seen from the Earth, they appear as radiant sunlight, densifying into a glory of gold. One has the immediate feeling that the gleaming silver, streaming up from below, is received by the sunlit radiance above. And the earth-silver—the phrase is quite correct—is changed by cosmic alchemy into the cosmic gold which lives and weaves in the heights.

If we follow these happenings further, on through August, we gain an impression of something that completes the form of Michael, already described. I told you what the sword of Michael is made of, and whence the dragon draws his coiling life. But now, in the radiant beauty which appears spiritually out of the cosmic weaving at the height of summer, we ask ourselves: Whence does Michael, who leads us over to the autumn time of Michaelmas, derive his characteristic raiment—the raiment which first lights up in golden sunshine and then shines forth inwardly as a silver-sparkling radiance within the golden folds? Where does Michael acquire this gold-woven, silver-sparkling raiment? It comes from that which is formed in the heights through the upward-raying silver and the gold that flows to meet it; from the transmutation by the sun's power of the silver sparkling up from the Earth. As autumn approaches we see how the silver given by the Earth to the cosmos returns as gold, and the power of this transmuted silver is the source of that which goes on in the Earth during winter, as I have described. The Sun-gold, formed in the heights, in the dominion of Uriel, during high summer, passes down to weave and flow through the depths of the Earth, where it animates the elements that in the midst of winter are seeking to become the living growth of the following year.

So you see that when we come to the time of sprouting, springing life, we can no longer speak of matter permeated by spirit, as we speak of the Earth in winter. We have to speak of spirit woven through with matter—that is, with silver and gold.

Of course you must not take all this in a crude sense; you must think of the silver and gold as diluted beyond human measure. Then you will come to feel that all this is a kind of background for the cosmic, light-filled deeds of Uriel, and a clear impression of the countenance and gaze of Uriel will come before you.

We feel a deep longing to understand this remarkable gaze, directed downwards, and we have the impression that we must look around to find out what it signifies. Its meaning first dawns upon the mind when as human beings we learn to look with spiritual eyes still more deeply into the blue, silver-gleaming depths of the Earth in summer. And we see that weaving around these silver-gleaming crystalline rays are shapes—disturbing shapes, I might almost call them—which continually gather and dissolve, gather and dissolve again.

Then we come to perceive—the vision will be different for everyone—that these shapes are human errors which stand out against the natural order of regular crystals here below. And it is on this contrast that Uriel directs his earnest gaze. Here during the height of summer the imperfections of mankind, in contrast to the regularity of the growing crystal forms, are searchingly surveyed. Here it is that from the earnest gaze of Uriel we gain the impression of how the moral is interwoven with the natural.

Here the moral world-order does not exist only in ourselves as abstract impulses. For whereas we habitually look at the realms of Nature and do not ask—is there morality in the growth of plants, or in the process of crystallisation?—now we see how at midsummer human errors are woven into the regular crystals which are formed in the normal course of Nature.

On the other hand, all that is in human virtue and human excellence rises up with the silver-gleaming lines and is seen as the clouds that envelop Uriel (red). It enters into the radiant Intelligence, transmuted into cloud-shaped works of art.

It is impossible to look towards the increasingly earnest gaze of Uriel, directed towards the depths of the Earth, without also seeing there something like wing-like arms, or arm-like wings, raised in earnest admonition, and this gesture by Uriel has the effect of imparting to mankind what I might call the historic conscience. Here at high summer appears the historic conscience, which at the present time has become uncommonly feeble. It appears, as it were, in Uriel's warning gesture.

Of course, you must picture all this as an Imagination. These things are quite real, but I cannot speak of them in the way a physicist speaks of positive and negative, of potential energy and so on. I have to speak in pictures that will come to life in your souls. But everything expressed in these living pictures is reality; it is there.

And now if we have gained the impression of the connection of human morality with the crystalline element below and of human virtues with the shining beauty above, and if we take these connections into our inward experience, the real St. John Imagination will come to meet us. For the St. John Imagination is there, just as we have the Michael Imagination, the Christmas Imagination, the Easter Imagination.

So to spiritual observation there appears, as a kind of culmination, this picture: Above, illuminated as it were by the power of Uriel's eyes, the Dove (white). The silver-sparkling blue below, arising from the depths of the Earth and bound up with human weaknesses and error, is gathered into a picture of the Earth-Mother (blue). Whether she is called Demeter or Mary, the picture is of the Earth-Mother. So it is that in directing our gaze downwards, we cannot do otherwise than bring together in Imagination all those secrets of the depths which go to make up the material Mother of all existence; while in all that is concentrated in the flowing form above we feel and experience the Spirit-Father of everything around us. And now we behold the outcome of the working together of Spirit-Father with Earth-Mother, bearing so beautifully within itself the harmony of the earthly silver and the gold of the heights. Between the Father and the Mother we behold the Son. Thus arises this Imagination of the Trinity, which is really the St. John Imagination. The background of it is Uriel, the creative, admonishing Uriel.

That which the Trinity truly represents should not be placed dogmatically before the soul, for then an impression is given that such an idea, or picture, of the Trinity can be separated from the weaving of cosmic life. This is not so. At midsummer the Trinity reveals itself out of the midst of cosmic life, cosmic activity. It stands forth with inwardly convincing power, if—I might say—one has first penetrated into the mysteries of Uriel.

If we were to present St. John's-tide in this way, there would have to be an arched or vaulted background, with the figure of Uriel and his gesture in the manner I have described. And against this background a living picture of the Imagination of the Trinity would have to emerge. Special arrangements would be necessary; the effect would have to be that of painting done instantly, perhaps by making artistic use of vaporous substances or the like. And if the true Imagination of these things is to be called up for people to witness, it must be at St. John's time. At Easter we have the complete picture only when we bring it into dramatic form, with Raphael present as a teacher in the Mystery Play that would have then to be presented; Raphael who leads man into the secrets of healing nature, of the healing cosmos. In a similar way, at St. John's time, all that can then be seen in weaving pictures would have to be transposed into powerful music, so that the cosmic Mystery, as it can be experienced by man at this season of St. John, would speak to our hearts.

We must imagine how all that I have described should find artistic expression, on the one hand, in pictorial and plastic art. But what is experienced in this way must be given life by the musical tones that embody the poetic motif which plays through our souls when we feel our way into great Uriel, active in the light, who calls up in us a powerful impression of the triune, the Trinity. The silver-shining that rays up from below, and is revealed in the form-giving beauty of the light above, must be expressed at St. John's-tide through appropriate musical instruments. Thus we should find, through these musical harmonies, our own inner harmony with the cosmos, for in them the secret of man's living together with the cosmos at St. John's tide would have to sound forth. All this would have to be given voice in the music, so that in looking up to the heights we would be looking at the weaving gold of the cosmos, and would see the glowing form of Uriel emerging from the light-filled gold and directing his gaze and his gesture down to the Earth, as I have described it. All this would have to be not in any fixed form, but in living movement. That would be one motif, a heavenly motif through which a man can feel himself united, on one side, with the shining Cosmic Intelligence.

On the other side, down below, he feels himself united with the tendency to fixed form; with that which is immersed in the bluish darkness from out of which the silvery radiance streams forth. Down there he feels the material foundation of active spiritual being. The Heights become Mysteries, the Depths become Mysteries, and man himself becomes a Mystery within the Mysteries of the Cosmos. Right into his bony system he feels the crystal-forming power. But he feels also how this same power is in cosmic union with the living power of light in the heavens above. He feels how all that comes about through mankind as morality in these Mysteries of the Heights lives and weaves in these Mysteries of the Depths, and in the conjunction between the two. He feels himself no longer sundered from the world around him, but placed within it, united above with the shining Intelligence, in which he experiences, as in the womb of worlds, his own best thoughts. He feels himself united below, right into his bony system, with the cosmic crystallising force—and again the two united with one another. He feels his death united with the spirit-life of the universe; and he feels how this spirit-life craves to awaken the crystal forces and the silver-gleaming life in the midst of earthly death.

All this, too, would have to sound forth in musical tones—tones which carry these motifs on their wings and make them part of human experience. For these motifs are there. They do not have to be sought out; they can be read from the cosmic activity of Uriel. Here it is that Imagination passes over into Inspiration.

Man, however, lives in a certain sense as an embodied Inspiration, as a being brought into existence by Inspiration, in the Mysteries of the heights and depths and in the Mysteries of their conjunction. He lives in the Mysteries to which the Spirit-Father points upward; the Mysteries to which the Spirit-Mother points downwards, the Mysteries which are united by the fact that the Christ, though the working together of the Spirit-Father and the Spirit-Mother, stands directly before the human soul as the sustaining Cosmic Spirit.

That which is woven out of all these cosmic secrets I may put before you somewhat in the following way. It is as though the human being, placed in the midst of all that goes on in high summer, were to feel something like this. The first words endeavour to represent how the gaze of Uriel concentrates itself into Inspiration, united with the Spirit-tones of the whole choir:

Here in these nine lines are the Mysteries of the Heights, the Mysteries of the Depths, and the Mysteries of the Midst, which are also those of the inner being of man. And then we have the whole gathered up as a cosmic statement of these Mysteries of the Heights, the Depths and the Midst, sounding out as though with organ and trumpet tones:

Here you have that which can permeate the human being at midsummer, supporting him, exalting him, confirming him—the St. John Imagination filled with Inspiration, the St. John Inspiration filled with Imagination—in these words:

Schaue unser Weben
Das leuchtende Erregen
Das warmende Leben
Lebe irdisch Erhaltendes
Und atmend Gestaltetes—
Als wesenhaft Waltendes
Fühle dein Menschengebeine
Mit himmlischen Scheine
Im waltenden Weltenvereine

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