From Jesus to Christ
GA 131
13 October 1911, Karlsruhe
Lecture IX
The lectures given so far have led essentially to two questions. One relates to the objective event connected with the name, Christ Jesus; to the nature of that impulse which as the Christ-Impulse entered into human evolution. The other question is: how can an individual establish his connection with the Christ-Impulse? In other words, how can the Christ-Impulse become effective for the individual? The answers to these two questions are of course interrelated. For we have seen that the Christ-Event is an objective fact of human Earth-evolution, and that something real, something actual, comes forth to meet us in the Resurrection. With Christ there rose out of the grave a kind of seed-kernel for the reconstruction of our human Phantom. And it is possible for this seed-kernel to incorporate itself in those individuals who find a connection with the Christ-Impulse.
That is the objective side of the relationship of the individual to the Christ-Impulse. Today we wish to add the subjective side. We will try to find an answer to the question: ‘How does the individual now find it possible gradually to take into himself that which comes forth through the Resurrection of Christ?’
To answer this question, we must first distinguish between two things. When Christianity entered into the world as a religion, it was not merely a religion for those who wished to approach Christ by one or other of the spiritual paths. It was to be a religion which all men could accept and make their own. A special occult or esoteric development was not necessary for finding the way to Christ. We must therefore fix our attention first on that path to Christ, the exoteric path, which every soul, every heart, can find in the course of time. We must then distinguish this path from the esoteric path which right up to our own time has revealed itself to the soul who desired to seek the Christ by gaining access to occult powers. We must distinguish between the path of the physical plane and the path of the super-sensible worlds.
In hardly any other century has there been such obscurity concerning the outward, exoteric way to Christ as in the nineteenth. And this obscurity increased during the second half of the century. More and more men came to lose the knowledge of the way to Christ. Those imbued with the thought of today no longer form the right concepts, such concepts for example as souls even in the eighteenth century formed on their way to the Christ-Impulse. Even the first half of the nineteenth century was illumined by a certain possibility of finding the Christ-Impulse as something real. But for the most part in the nineteenth century this path to Christ was lost to men. And we can understand this when we realise that we are standing at the beginning of a new path to Christ. We have often spoken of the new way now opening for souls through a renewal of the Christ-Event. In human evolution it always happens that a kind of low point must be reached in any trend before a new light comes in once more. The turning away from the spiritual worlds during the nineteenth century was only natural in face of the fact that in the twentieth century a quite new epoch for the spiritual life of men must begin, in the special sense we have often mentioned.
To those who have come to know something of Spiritual Science, our Movement often appears to be something quite new. If, however, we look away from the enrichment that spiritual endeavours in the West have experienced recently through the inflow of the concepts of reincarnation and karma, bound up with the whole teaching of repeated earth lives and its significance for human evolution, we must say that, in other respects, ways into the spiritual world, similar to our theosophical way, are by no means new in Western history. Anyone, however, who tries to rise into the spiritual world along the present path of Theosophy will find himself somewhat estranged from the manner in which Theosophy was cultivated in the eighteenth century. At that time in this neighbourhood (Baden), and especially in Württemberg, much Theosophy was studied, but everywhere an illuminated view of the teaching concerning repeated earth lives was lacking, and thereby a cloud was cast over the whole field of theosophical work. For those who could look deeply into occult connections, and particularly into the connection of the world with the Christ-Impulse, what they saw was over-shadowed for this reason. But within the whole horizon of Christian philosophy and Christian life, something like theosophical endeavours arose continually. This striving towards Theosophy was active everywhere, even in the outward, exoteric paths of men who could go no further than sharing externally in the life of some congregation, Christian or otherwise.
How theosophical endeavours penetrated Christian endeavours is shown by figures such as Bengel and Oetinger, who worked in Württemberg, men who in their whole way of thinking—if we remember that they lacked the idea of reincarnation—reached all that man can reach of higher views concerning evolution, in so far as they had made the Christ-Impulse their own. The ground-roots of theosophical life have always existed. Hence there is much that is correct in a treatise on theosophical subjects written by Oetinger in the eighteenth century. In the preface to a book on Oetinger's work, published in 1847, Rothe, who taught in Heidelberg University, wrote:
What Theosophy really wants is often difficult to recognise in the case of the older theosophists ... but it is none the less clear that Theosophy, as far as it has gone today, can claim no scientific status and therefore cannot extend its influence more widely. It would be very hasty to conclude that Theosophy is only an ephemeral phenomenon, and entirely unjustifiable from a scientific standpoint. History already testifies loudly enough to the contrary. It tells us how this enigmatic phenomenon has never been able to accomplish anything, and yet, unnoticed, it is continually breaking through afresh, held together in its most varied forms by the chain of a never-dying tradition.
Now we must remember that the man who wrote this learnt about Theosophy only in the forties of the nineteenth century, as it had come over from many theosophists of the eighteenth. What came over was certainly not clothed in the forms of our scientific thought. It was therefore difficult to believe that the Theosophy of that time could affect wider circles. Apart from this, such a voice, coming to us out of the forties of the nineteenth century, must appear significant when it says:
The main thing is that once Theosophy has become a real science, and has thus clearly yielded definite results, these will gradually become matters of general and even popular conviction, and will be regarded as accepted truths by people who could not follow the paths by which they were discovered and by which alone they could be discovered.
After this, certainly, comes a pessimistic paragraph with which, in its bearing on Theosophy, we cannot now agree. For anyone familiar with the present form of spiritual-scientific endeavours will be convinced that this Theosophy, in the form in which it desires to work, can become popular in the widest circles. Even such a paragraph may therefore inspire us with courage when we read further:
Still, this rests in the lap of the future, and there we will not encroach: for the present we will gratefully rejoice in what our valued Oetinger has so beautifully set forth, and which may certainly count upon a sympathetic reception in a wide circle.
Thus we see that Theosophy was a pious hope of those who came to know something of the old Theosophy that was handed down from the eighteenth century.
After that time the stream of theosophical life was buried under the materialistic trends of the nineteenth century. Only through what we may now accept as the dawn of a new age do we again approach the true spiritual life, and now in a form which can be so scientific that in principle every heart and every soul can understand it. During the nineteenth century there was a complete loss of understanding for something that the theosophists of the eighteenth century still fully possessed; they called it Zentralsinn (inner light). Oetinger, who worked in Murrhard, near Karlsruhe, was for a time the pupil of a quite simple man in Thuringia, named Voelker, whose pupils knew that he possessed what was called ‘inner light’. What in those days was this ‘inner light’? It was none other than that which now arises in every man when earnestly and with iron energy he works through the content of my book, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds. It was fundamentally nothing else that this simple man of Thuringia possessed. What he brought into existence—for his time a very interesting Theosophy—was the teaching which influenced Oetinger. It is difficult for a man of the present day to reconcile himself to the knowledge that a deepening of Theosophy occurred so recently, and gave rise to a rich literature, buried though this is in libraries and among antiquarians.
Something else is equally difficult for a man of today: to accept the Christ-Event as first of all an objective fact. How much discussion of this matter there was in the nineteenth century! It is impossible in a short course to indicate even in outline how many and diverse are the views of the nineteenth century concerning Christ Jesus. And anyone who takes the trouble to inquire further into opinions concerning Christ Jesus, whether those of theologians or of laymen, will encounter some very real difficulties, if the views of the nineteenth century on this question are considered in relation to the times in which better traditions still prevailed. In the nineteenth century it even became possible for persons to be regarded as great theologians when they were far removed from any acceptance of an objective Christ who entered into and worked in the history of the world. And here we come to the question: What relationship to the Christ can be found by an individual who takes no esoteric path, but remains entirely in the field of the exoteric?
So long as we keep to the standpoint of those nineteenth-century theologians who held that human evolution can take its course purely in the inner being of man, and has nothing to do with the external world of the Macrocosm, we cannot reach an objective appreciation of Christ Jesus; we come to all kinds of grotesque ideas, but never to a relationship with the Christ-Event. For anyone who believes that he can reach the highest human ideal compatible with Earth-evolution merely by an inner soul-path, through a kind of self-redemption, a relationship with the objective Christ is impossible. We may also say that wherever the redemption of man is thought of as a matter for psychology to deal with, there is no relationship to the Christ. Anyone who penetrates further into cosmic mysteries soon finds that when a man believes that he can attain his highest ideal of Earth-existence solely through himself, only through his own inner development, he cuts off altogether his connection with the Macrocosm. Such a person believes that he has the Macrocosm before him as a kind of Nature, and that his inner soul-development, side by side with the Macrocosm, is something running parallel with it. But a connection between the two he cannot find. This is just what is so terribly grotesque in the evolution of the nineteenth century. The connection that should exist between Microcosm and Macrocosm, has been torn asunder. If this had not happened, we should not have seen all those misunderstandings that have arisen over the terms ‘theoretical materialism’ on the one hand and ‘abstract idealism’ on the other. Just consider—the sundering of Microcosm and Macrocosm has led men who care little for the inner life of the soul to assign it, as well as the external life of the body, to the Macrocosm, thus making everything subject to material processes. Others, aware that there is nevertheless an inner life, have fallen gradually into abstractions concerning everything of significance to the human soul.
To be clear regarding this difficult matter, let us recall something very significant that was learnt in the Mysteries. How many people today believe in their innermost consciousness: ‘If I think something—for instance, if I entertain a bad thought about my neighbour—it has no significance for the outer world; the thought is only in myself. It has a quite different significance if I give him a box on the ears. This is something that happens on the physical plane; the other is a mere feeling or a mere thought.’ Or again, how many people there are who, when they fall into a sin or a lie or an error, say: ‘This is something that happens in the human soul.’ And, by contrast, if a stone falls from the roof: ‘This is something that takes place externally.’ And they will readily explain, using crude sense-concepts, that when a stone falls, perhaps accidentally, into water, it sets up ripples which spread out far and wide, so that everything produces effects which continue unobserved; but anything that has occurred in the soul is shut off from the world outside. People could therefore come to believe that to sin, to err, and then to put it right again, is entirely a concern of the individual soul. To anyone with an outlook of this kind, something many of us have witnessed in the last two years must seem grotesque.
Let me recall to you the scene in the Rosicrucian drama, The Portal of Initiation, where Capesius and Strader enter the astral world, and it is shown that what they think, speak, and feel is not without significance for the objective world, the Macrocosm, but actually releases storms in the elements. For modern man it is absurd to suppose that destructive forces can strike at the Macrocosm through somebody having had wrong thoughts. In the Mysteries it was made very clear to the pupil that when, for example anyone tells a lie or falls into error, this is a real process which does not concern himself only. The Germans say ‘Thoughts are duty free’, because they see no Customs barrier when the thoughts arise. Thoughts belong to the objective world; they are not merely experiences of the soul. The pupil of the Mystery saw: ‘When you tell a lie, it signifies in the super-sensible world the darkening of a certain light; when you perpetrate a loveless action, something in the spiritual world is burnt up in the fire of lovelessness; with errors you extinguish light in the Macrocosm.’ The effect was shown to the pupil through objective experience: how, through an error, something is extinguished on the astral plane, and darkness follows; or how through a loveless action something acts like a burning and destroying fire.
In exoteric life man does not know what is going on around him. He is like an ostrich with its head in the sand; he does not see effects which nevertheless are there. The effects of feeling are there, and they would be visible to super-sensible sight if the man were led into the Mysteries. It was not until the nineteenth century that anyone could say: ‘Everything in which a man has sinned, everything in which he is weak, is his personal affair only. Redemption must come about through an experience in the soul, and so Christ also can be only an experience in the soul.’ What is necessary, in order that man may not only find his way to Christ, but that he may not sunder his connection with the Macrocosm, is the knowledge: ‘If you incur error and sin, these are objective, not subjective events, and because of them something happens outside in the Cosmos.’ And in the moment when a man becomes conscious that with his sin, with his error, something objective happens; when he knows that what he has done, what he has given out from himself, is not connected merely with himself but with the whole objective course of cosmic development, then he will no longer be able to say to himself that compensation for what he has brought about is only an inner concern of the soul. There is indeed a good and significant possibility that a man who sees that thoughts and feelings are objective may also see that what has brought and brings people into mistakes through successive earth-lives is not an inward affair related to a single life, but is the consequence of karma.
Now an event which was outside history and outside human responsibility, as was the Luciferic influence in the old Lemurian period, could not possibly be expunged from the world by a human event. Through the Luciferic event man gained a great benefit: he became a free being. But he also incurred a liability: the propensity to deviate from the path of the good and the right, and from the path of the true. What has happened in the course of incarnations is a matter of karma. But all that has crept down from the Macrocosm into the Microcosm, all that the Luciferic forces have given to man, is something that man cannot deal with by himself. To compensate for the objective Luciferic event, another objective act was needed. In short, man must feel that what he incurs as error and sin is not merely subjective, and that an experience in the soul which is merely subjective is not sufficient to bring about Redemption.
Anyone who is convinced of the objectivity of error will thus understand also the objectivity of the act of Redemption. One cannot by any means treat the Luciferic influence as an objective act without treating in the same manner the compensating act, the Event of Golgotha. A theosophist can only choose between two things. Everything may be set on the foundation of karma; of course that is quite right as regards everything that man himself has brought about. But then we come to the necessity of stretching out the repeated lives forward and backward as far as we like, with no end to it in either direction. It always goes round and round like a wheel. The other thing—the alternative choice—is the concrete idea of evolution we must hold: that there was a Saturn, a Sun, and a Moon existence which were quite different from the Earth existence; that in the Earth existence the kind of repeated earth-life as we know it first occurred; that the Luciferic event was a single unrepeated event—all this alone gives real content to our theosophical outlook. All this, however, is inconceivable without the objectivity of the Event of Golgotha.
In pre-Christian times men were—as you know—different in various ways. One particular difference was that when they came down from spiritual worlds into earthly incarnations they brought with them, as substance, some of the Divine element. For this reason, when a man reflected on his own weakness, he always felt that the best part of him had originated in the Divine sphere from which he had descended. But the Divine element gradually became exhausted in the course of further incarnations, and it was quite exhausted when the Events of Palestine drew near. The last after-effects of it continued to be felt, but none of it was left when John the Baptist declared: ‘Change your conception of the world, for the times have changed. Now you will no longer be able to rise up into the spiritual as in the past, for the vision that could see into the old spirituality is lost. Change your thinking, and accept the Divine Being who is to give anew to men what they have had to lose through their descent to earth!’ Consequently—you may deny this if you think in the abstract, but not if you look at history in concrete terms—the feelings and perceptions of men changed altogether at the turning-point of the old and new epochs, a point marked by the Events of Palestine.
After these events, men began to feel forsaken. They felt forsaken when they approached the hardest questions, those which concerned most directly the innermost part of the soul; when, for example, they asked themselves: ‘What will become of me when I go through the gate of death with a number of deeds that have not been made good?’ Then there came to meet them a thought which certainly might be born from the longing of the soul, but could be allayed only when the soul could say to itself: ‘Yes, a Being has lived who entered into the evolution of mankind and to whom you can hold fast. He is working in the outer Cosmos, where you cannot go. He is working to bring about compensation for your deeds. He will help you to make good the evil results of the Luciferic influence!’ Through this feeling oneself forsaken, and then feeling oneself rescued by an objective power, there enters into humanity an intuitive feeling that sin is a real power, an objective fact, and that the Act of Redemption is also objective, an act that cannot be accomplished by an individual, for he has not invoked the Luciferic influence, but only by One who works in the worlds where Lucifer is consciously active.
All that I have thus set before you, in words drawn from Spiritual Science, was not grasped intellectually, as knowledge. It resided in feelings and intuitive perceptions, and from this source came the need to turn to Christ. For those who felt this need there was of course the possibility of finding in Christian communities ways by which they could deepen all such perceptions and feelings.
After man had lost his primal connection with the Gods, what did he find when he looked out at the material world? Through his descent into the material realm, his perception of the spiritual, of the physical manifestation of the Divine in the cosmos, steadily declined. The remnants of the old clairvoyance faded by degrees, and nature, for him, was in a certain sense deprived of the Divine. A merely material world was spread out before him. And in face of this material universe he could in no way maintain a belief that the Christ-Principle was at work there. The nineteenth-century Kant-Laplace theory, whereby our solar system developed out of a cosmic nebula, and eventually life arose on individual planets, has led finally to the universe being regarded as a collaboration of atoms. If we try to think of Christ in this setting, as conceived by materialistic scientists, it makes no sense. There is no place for the Christ-Being in this cosmogony, no place for anything spiritual. You remember someone saying—I read you the passage—that he would have to tear up his whole conception of the universe if he had to believe in the Resurrection. This shows that in contemplating Nature, or in thinking about Nature, all possibility of penetrating into the living essence of natural facts has disappeared.
When I speak like this, it is not by way of disapproval. The time had to come when Nature would be deprived of the Divine, deprived of the Spirit, so that man could formulate the totality of abstract thoughts required to comprehend external nature, as the outlook of Copernicus, Kepler and Galileo enabled him to do. The web of thoughts which has led to our age of machinery had to take hold of humanity. On the other hand, it was necessary that this age should have a compensation for the fact that it had become impossible in exoteric life to find a direct path from the Earth to the spiritual. For if man had been able to find this path, he would have been able to find the path to Christ, as he will find it in the coming centuries. There had to be a compensation.
The question now is: What had become necessary as an exoteric path for man to Christ during the centuries in which an atomistic conception of the universe became gradually accepted, a conception which alienated Nature more and more from the Divine and in the nineteenth century grew into the study of nature deprived of the Divine?
A two-fold remedy was required. A spiritual vision of the Christ could be found exoterically in two ways. One way was to show that all matter is completely foreign to man's inner spiritual being. He could be shown that it is untrue to say that everywhere in space where matter appears, only matter is present. How could this come about? In no other way than by something being given to man which is at one and the same time spirit and matter; something which he knows is spirit and yet sees to be matter. Therefore the transformation, the eternally valid transformation, of spirit into matter, of matter into spirit, had to continue as a vital fact. And this came to pass because the Holy Communion has been celebrated, has been maintained through the centuries as a Christian ritual. And the further we go back in the centuries towards the institution of the Holy Communion, the more can we trace how in the older times, not yet so materialistic, it was better understood.
In regard to higher things, when people begin to discuss something, it is a proof, as a rule, that they no longer understand it. Even simple matters, as long as they are understood, are not much discussed. Discussions are a proof that the point at issue is not understood by a majority of the people involved. Thus it was with the Holy Communion. As long as it was known that the Holy Communion furnished a living proof that matter is not merely matter, but that there are ceremonial acts through which the spirit can be united with matter—as long as people knew that this interpenetration of matter with spirit, as it finds expression in the Holy Communion, is a union with the Being of Christ, so long was the Holy Communion accepted without argument. But then came the time when Materialism arose, when people no longer understood what lies at the foundation of the Holy Communion. Then they disputed whether the bread and wine are merely symbols of the Divine, or whether Divine power actually flows into them. For anyone who can see more deeply, all the disputes which arose on this account at the beginning of the new epoch signify that the original understanding of the ritual had been lost. For those who desired to come to Christ, the Holy Communion was a complete equivalent of the esoteric path, if they could not take that path, and thus in the Holy Communion they could find a real union with Christ. For all things have their time. Certainly, just as it is true in regard to the spiritual life that a quite new age is dawning, so is it true that the way to Christ which for centuries was the right one for many people will remain for centuries more the right one for many. Things pass over gradually into one another, and what was formerly right will gradually pass over into something else when people are ready for it.
The aim of Theosophy is to work in such a way that we shall grasp in the spirit itself something concrete, something real. By means of meditation, concentration and all that we learn as the knowledge of higher worlds, men become ripe in their inner being not merely to experience thought-worlds, or worlds of abstract feelings and perceptions, but to permeate themselves inwardly with the element of the Spirit; thereby they will experience the Communion in the Spirit; thereby thoughts, meditative thoughts, will be able to live in man; they will even be the very same, only from within outwards, as the symbol of the Holy Communion, the consecrated Bread, has been from without inwards. And as the undeveloped Christian can seek his way to Christ through the Holy Communion, so the developed Christian who, through progressive knowledge of the Spirit has learnt to know the Form of the Christ, can raise himself in spirit to what will indeed be in the future an exoteric path for men. That will be the force which is to bring to men a widening of the Christ-Impulse. But then all ceremonies will change, and that which formerly came to pass through the attributes of bread and wine will come about in the future through a spiritual Communion. The thought of the Sacrament, the Holy Communion, will remain. Only it must be made possible that certain thoughts which flow to us through what is imparted within our Movement, certain inner thoughts and feelings, shall permeate and spiritualise our inner being—thoughts and feelings as fully consecrated as in the best sense of inner Christian development the Holy Communion has spiritualised the human soul and filled it with the Christ.
When this becomes possible—and it will be possible—we shall have progressed a stage further in evolution. And then we shall see the real proof that Christianity is greater than its external form. For a poor opinion of Christianity is held by anyone who thinks it will be obliterated when the external forms of the Christianity of a certain period are swept away. A true opinion will be permeated with the conviction that all Churches which have cherished the Christ-Thought, all external thoughts, all external forms, are temporal and therefore transitory, while the Christ-Thought will live in ever-new forms in the hearts and souls of men in the future, little as these new forms are evident today. Thus we are first taught by Spiritual Science how, along one exoteric path, the Holy Communion had its significance in earlier times.
The other exoteric path was through the Gospels. And here again we must realise what in earlier times the Gospels still were for men. It is not very long since the Gospels were not read as they were in the nineteenth century. In those days they were read as a life-giving fountain whence something substantial passed over into the soul. They were not read in the way described in the first lecture of this course, when we were speaking of a false path, but so that a person saw approaching from outside something for which his soul was panting with thirst; they were so read that his soul found pictured therein the real Redeemer, of whom the soul knew that He must be there, in the wide universe.
Those who understood how to read the Gospels in this way never thought of asking the endless questions which first became questions for the intelligent, clever people of the nineteenth century. You need only recall how many times in speaking of these questions, in one form or another, we have had to say that for quite clever people, who have all science and learning at their finger tips, the thought of Christ Jesus and the Events of Palestine are truly not compatible with the modern conception of the universe. In an apparently enlightened way they say that when men were not aware that the earth is a quite small heavenly body, they could believe that with the Cross of Golgotha a special new event took place on earth. But since Copernicus taught that the earth is a planet like others, can one still believe that Christ came to us from another planet? Why should we believe that the earth is so exceptionally situated as was formerly thought? A simile is then brought in: ‘Since our conception of the universe has been so much enlarged, it seems as though one of the most important artistic presentations had taken place, not on the great stage of a capital city, but on the small stage of some provincial theatre.’ So that is how it looks to these people: the earth is such an insignificant little cosmic body that the Events of Palestine appear like the performance of a great cosmic drama on the stage of a small provincial theatre. We can no longer imagine such a thing, because the earth is so small in comparison with the great universe!
It seems so clever when something like that is said, but after all there is not much cleverness in it, for Christianity never asserted what is here apparently contradicted. Christianity has never placed the beginning of the Christ-Impulse in the magnificent places of the earth. It has always seen a certain deep seriousness in the fact that the bearer of the Christ was born in a stable among poor shepherds. Not only the little earth, but a very obscure place on earth, was sought out in Christian tradition to place the Christ therein. Christianity from the very first answered the questions of the clever people. But they have not understood the answers which Christianity itself has given, because they could no longer let the living force of the great majestic pictures work upon the soul.
Nevertheless, through the Gospel pictures alone, without the Holy Communion and all that is connected with it—for the Holy Communion stands at the centre of all Christian cults—an exoteric path to Christ could not have been found. For the Gospels could not then have been widely enough popularised for a finding of the way to Christ to depend on them alone. And when the Gospels were popularised, we can see that it was not an unmixed blessing. For at the same time arose the great misunderstanding of the Gospels: they were taken superficially, and then all that the nineteenth century made of them came about; and indeed—speaking quite objectively—it was bad enough. I think anthroposophists will understand what is meant here by ‘bad enough’. No censure is intended, for we cannot but acknowledge the diligence which the nineteenth century brought to the task of scientific investigation, including all the work in natural science. The tragedy is that this very science—and anyone familiar with it will grant this—owing to its deep seriousness and its tremendous, devoted industry, which one can only admire, has led to a complete splitting up and destruction of what it wished to teach. When in the future course of evolution people look back at our time, they will feel it to be particularly tragic that men sought to conquer the Bible by means of a science worthy of endless admiration—and succeeded only in losing the Bible.
Thus we can see that as regards these two aspects of the exoteric we are living in a transitional period, and in so far as we have grasped the spirit of Theosophy, the old paths must lead over into others. And having now considered the exoteric paths of the past to the Christ-Impulse, we shall see tomorrow how this relationship to Christ takes form in the realm of the esoteric. We will then conclude our study by showing how we can come to grasp the Christ-Event not only for the whole evolution of humanity, but for each individual man. We shall be able to review the esoteric path more briefly, because we have assembled building-stones for it during past years. We will crown our endeavours by fixing our gaze upon the relationship of the Christ-Impulse to every individual human soul.
Neunter Vortrag
Die Vorträge, die bisher gehalten worden sind, haben uns im wesentlichen zu zwei Fragen geführt. Die eine Frage bezieht sich auf das objektive Ereignis, das mit dem Namen des Christus Jesus verknüpft ist; sie bezieht sich auf das Wesen jenes Impulses, der als der Christus-Impuls eingegriffen hat in die menschliche Entwickelung. Die andere Frage bezieht sich darauf, wie nun der einzelne Mensch seine Beziehung zu dem Christus-Impuls herstellen kann, wie sozusagen dieser Christus-Impuls für den einzelnen Menschen wirksam wird. Selbstverständlich verknüpfen sich die Antworten auf diese beiden Fragen. Denn wir haben ja gesehen, daß das Christus-Ereignis eine objektive Tatsache der menschlichen Erdenentwickelung ist und daß gerade von dem, was uns in der Auferstehung entgegengetreten ist, etwas Reales, etwas Wirkliches ausgeht. Gewissermaßen eine Art Keim zu einer Wiederherstellung des Zustandes unseres menschlichen Phantomes hat sich mit dem Christus aus dem Grabe erhoben, und das, was sich da als Keim mit dem Christus aus dem Grabe erhoben hat, hat die Möglichkeit, sich einzuverleiben denjenigen Menschen, die eine Beziehung zu dem Christus-Impuls finden.
Das ist der objektive Teil dieser Beziehung des einzelnen Menschen zu dem Christus-Impuls. Heute wollen wir in die Betrachtungen, die wir in den letzten Tagen gepflogen haben, die subjektive Seite einfügen, das heißt, wir wollen versuchen, eine Antwort auf die Frage zu finden, welche etwa so gestellt werden kann: Wie findet nun der einzelne Mensch die Möglichkeit, in sich nach und nach dasjenige aufzunehmen, was durch die Auferstehung von dem Christus ausgegangen ist?
Wenn wir uns diese Frage beantworten wollen, müssen wir zunächst zweierlei unterscheiden. Als das Christentum als eine Religion in die Welt getreten ist, da war es nicht etwa bloß eine Religion für okkult strebende Menschen, das heißt für solche Menschen, welche auf irgendeinem Geisteswege an den Christus herankommen wollten; sondern das Christentum war eine Religion, welche für alle Menschen geeignet sein sollte, welche von allen Menschen sollte aufgenommen werden können. Daher darf nicht etwa geglaubt werden, daß eine besondere okkulte oder esoterische Entwickelung notwendig war, um den Weg zu dem Christus zu finden. Daher müssen wir den einen Weg zu dem Christus zunächst einmal ins Auge fassen, den exoterischen Weg, den eine jede Seele, ein jedes Herz hat finden können im Laufe der Zeit. Und dann müssen wir von diesem Wege den anderen unterscheiden: den Weg, der sich bisher, bis in unsere Zeit herein, einer Seele eröffnete, die esoterisch den Weg gehen will; die also nicht bloß auf dem äußeren Pfad den Christus suchen will, sondern die ihn suchen will durch eine Erschließung der okkulten Kräfte. Also den Weg des physischen Planes — und den Weg der übersinnlichen Welten müssen wir unterscheiden.
Es ist wohl kaum ein früheres Jahrhundert so unklar gewesen über den äußeren exoterischen Weg zu dem Christus als das neunzehnte Jahrhundert. Und der Verlauf des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts war wieder so, daß die erste Hälfte dieses Jahrhunderts noch klarer war als die zweite. Man darf sagen, immer mehr und mehr haben sich die Menschen von einer Erkenntnis des Weges zu dem Christus entfernt. In dieser Beziehung machen sich die Menschen, die am heutigen Denken teilnehmen, gar nicht mehr die richtigen Vorstellungen, wie Seelen zum Beispiel noch im achtzehnten Jahrhundert ihren Weg zu dem Christus-Impuls gemacht haben, und wie auch noch in die erste Hälfte des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts hereingeleuchtet hat eine gewisse Möglichkeit, den Christus-Impuls als etwas Reales zu finden. Im neunzehnten Jahrhundert ist am allermeisten den Menschen dieser Weg zu Christus verlorengegangen. Und das ist begreiflich, wenn wir ins Auge fassen, daß wir ja vor dem Ausgangspunkte eines neuen Weges zu dem Christus stehen. Wir haben öfter von dem neuen Weg, der sich den Seelen eröffnet, sozusagen von einer Erneuerung des Christus-Ereignisses, gesprochen. Es ist immer so in der Entwickelung der Menschheit, daß eine Art Tiefstand in bezug auf eine Sache eintreten muß, bevor wieder ein neues Licht kommt. So ist denn auch die Abwendung von den spirituellen Welten, wie sie im neunzehnten Jahrhundert eingetreten ist, nur selbstverständlich gegenüber der Tatsache, daß im zwanzigsten Jahrhundert eben in der eigenartigen Weise, wie es öfter erwähnt worden ist, eine ganz neue Epoche für das spirituelle Leben der Menschen beginnen muß.
Manchmal erscheint es selbst denjenigen Menschen, die sich schon etwas in die Geisteswissenschaft hineingefunden haben, so, als ob die spirituelle Bewegung, wie wir sie haben, etwas durchaus Neues sei. Wenn wir davon absehen, daß die Bereicherung, die das spirituelle Streben im Abendlande in den letzten Zeiten erfahren hat, darin besteht, daß die Ideen von Reinkarnation und Karma eingeflossen sind, wenn wir absehen von dem Einfließen der Lehre der wiederholten Erdenleben und ihrer Bedeutung für die ganze menschliche Entwickelung, so müssen wir sagen, daß im übrigen die Wege in die geistige Welt hinein, die unseren theosophischen sehr ähnlich sind, durchaus nicht etwas ganz Neues für die abendländische Menschheitsentwickelung sind. Nur findet sich der Mensch, der auf dem heutigen Wege der Theosophie in die geistigen Welten emporzudringen sucht, etwas befremdet von der Art und Weise, wie zum Beispiel 'Theosophie im achtzehnten Jahrhundert gepflogen worden ist. Gerade in diesen Gegenden (Baden) und namentlich in Württemberg wurde im achtzehnten Jahrhundert viel, viel Theosophie getrieben. Nur fehlte überall ein lichtvoller Ausblick in die Lehre von den wiederholten Erdenleben, und dadurch war das ganze Feld des theosophischen Arbeitens in einer gewissen Weise getrübt. Es wurden auch für die, welche tiefe Einblicke tun konnten in okkulte Zusammenhänge, und namentlich auch in den Zusammenhang der Welt mit dem ChristusImpuls, diese Einblicke dadurch getrübt, daß eine richtige Lehre über die wiederholten Erdenleben fehlte. Aber aus dem ganzen Umkreise der christlichen Weltanschauung und des christlichen Lebens erhob sich immer so etwas wie theosophisches Streben. Und dieses theosophische Streben wirkte überall hinein, auch in die äußeren exoterischen Wege der Menschen, die eben nicht weiter kommen konnten als zu einem äußeren Mitleben, sagen wir, des christlichen Gemeindelebens oder dergleichen. Wie aber ein Theosophisches das christliche Streben durchdrang, das können wir sehen, wenn wir zum Beispiel Namen nennen wie Bengel, Oetinger, Leute, die in Württemberg gewirkt haben, die in ihrer ganzen Art und Weise — wenn wir berücksichtigen, daß ihnen die Idee der wiederholten Erdenleben fehlte — durchaus zu alledem kamen, wozu man auch in bezug auf höhere Anschauungen über die Entwickelung der Menschheit kommen kann, insofern der Christus-Impuls ihr eignet. Wenn wir das ins Auge fassen, müssen wir sagen: den Grundnerv des theosophischen Lebens hat es immer gegeben. Deshalb ist viel Richtiges darin, was in einer Abhandlung gerade über manches Theosophische des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts Rothe, der ja in der unmittelbaren Nähe Karlsruhes, an der Heidelberger Universität, gelehrt hat, in der Vorrede zu einem 1847 erschienenen Buche geschrieben hat. Er sagt:
«Was die Theosophie eigentlich will, das ist bei den älteren Theosophen oft schwer zu erkennen... nicht minder deutlich aber auch, daß es die Theosophie auf ihrem bisherigen Wege zu keiner wissenschaftlichen Existenz und mithin auch zu keiner ins Größere gehenden Wirkung bringen kann. Sehr voreilig würde man daraus schließen, daß sie überhaupt ein wissenschaftlich unberechtigtes und nur ephemeres Phänomen sei. Dagegen zeugt schon die Geschichte laut genug. Sie erzählt uns, wie diese rätselhafte Erscheinung nie durchdringen konnte, und dessen ungeachtet immer wieder von neuem durchbrach, ja, durch die Kette einer nie aussterbenden Tradition in ihren verschiedenartigsten Formen zusammengehalten wird.»
Nun muß man daran denken, daß der, der dies geschrieben hart, in den vierziger Jahren des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts Theosophie nur so kennenlernen konnte, wie sie herüberkam von manchem Theosophen des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts. Da muß man schon sagen: Was da herüberkam, war allerdings in die Formen unserer Wissenschaftlichkeit nicht zu kleiden; daher war es auch schwer zu glauben, daß die damalige Theosophie weitere Kreise ergreifen könnte. Wenn wir davon absehen, muß uns doch gerade eine solche Stimme aus den vierziger Jahren des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts bedeutsam erscheinen, die uns da sagt:
«... Und was die Hauptsache ist, wenn sie nur erst einmal eigentliche Wissenschaft geworden ist, und also auch deutlich bestimmte Resultate abgesetzt hat, so werden diese schon nach und nach in die allgemeine Überzeugung übergehen oder populär werden, und sich so auch für die als gemeingültige Wahrheiten vererben, die sich in die Wege nicht finden können, auf denen sie entdeckt wurden und allein entdeckt werden konnten.»
Allerdings kommt dann eine pessimistische Wendung, die wir heute in bezug auf 'Theosophie nicht mehr teilen können. Denn wer sich in die heutige Art des geisteswissenschaftlichen Strebens hineinfindet, wird die Überzeugung gewinnen, daß diese Theosophie in den breitesten Kreisen in der Art, wie sie wirken will, populär werden kann. Deshalb muß uns eine solche Wendung dennoch nur zu Mut anfeuern können, wenn es weiter heißt:
«Doch dies ruht im Schoße der Zukunft, der wir nicht vorgreifen wollen; für jetzt mögen wir uns der schönen Darstellung des lieben Oetingers dankbar erfreuen, die gewiß in einem weiten Kreise auf Teilnahme rechnen darf.»
So sehen wir, wie sozusagen Theosophie eine fromme Hoffnung der Menschen ist, die gleichsam aus dem achtzehnten Jahrhundert herüber noch etwas von der alten Theosophie gewußt haben. Dann allerdings ist der Strom theosophischen Lebens überschüttet worden von dem materialistischen Streben des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts, und durch das, was wir jetzt in uns aufnehmen dürfen als die Morgenröte einer neuen Zeit, kommen wir erst wieder dem wirklichen spirituellen Leben nahe, jetzt aber in einer Form, die so wissenschaftlich sein kann, daß sie im Grunde genommen jedes Herz und jede Seele verstehen kann. Es ist ja ganz und gar auch dem neunzehnten Jahrhundert das Verständnis für etwas verlorengegangen, was zum Beispiel die 'Theosophen des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts noch voll gehabt haben, was sie dazumal genannt haben den «Zentralsinn». Von Oetinger zum Beispiel, der hier in unmittelbarer Nähe, in Murrhardt, gewirkt hat, wissen wir, daß er eine Zeitlang Schüler war eines sehr einfachen Menschen in Thüringen, von dem seine Schüler wußten, daß er das besessen hat, was man den Zentralsinn nannte. Was war dieser Zentralsinn für die damalige Zeit? Nichts anderes war es, als was jetzt in jedem Menschen entsteht, wenn er im Ernst und mit eiserner Energie das befolgt, was Sie auch in meiner Schrift «Wie erlangt man Erkenntnisse der höheren Welten?» finden. Im Grunde genommen war es nichts anderes, was dieser einfache Mensch in Thüringen — Völker hieß er — besaß, und was er dann auch in einer für seine Zeit sehr interessanten Theosophie zustande gebracht hat, das auf Oetinger wirkte. Ebenso, wie es schwer ist für den Menschen der Gegenwart, sich hineinzufinden in die Erkenntnis, daß eine theosophische Vertiefung uns eigentlich noch so nahe liegt, und daß diese theosophische Vertiefung eine reiche Literatur hat, die allerdings in den Bibliotheken und bei Antiquaren vergraben ist, ebenso schwer wird ihm ein anderes: das ChristusFreignis als eine objektive Tatsache überhaupt zunächst zu nehmen. Wie viel ist in dieser Richtung im neunzehnten Jahrhundert diskutiert worden! Es ist in einer kurzen Zeit gar nicht einmal skizzenhaft anzudeuten, wie vielerlei Anschauungen im neunzehnten Jahrhundert über den Christus Jesus zu verzeichnen sind. Und wenn man sich die Mühe gibt, auf eine größere Anzahl, sei es laienhafter, sei es theologenhafter Anschauungen über den Christus Jesus einzugehen, dann hat man wirklich gewisse Schwierigkeiten, wenn man das, was das neunzehnte Jahrhundert gerade in dieser Frage produziert hat, heranbringen will an die Zeiten, in denen noch bessere Traditionen geherrscht haben. Es ist ja sogar im neunzehnten Jahrhundert möglich geworden, Leute als große christliche Theologen anzusehen, die überhaupt der Annahme eines objektiven Christus, der in die Weltgeschichte eingetreten ist und darin gewirkt hat, ganz fern stehen. Und da kommen wir auf die Frage: Welche Beziehung zu dem Christus kann der finden, der nun keinen esoterischen Weg geht, sondern ganz im Felde des Exoterischen bleibt?
Solange man auf dem Boden steht, auf dem also wirklich auch Theologen des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts standen, daß die menschliche Entwickelung etwas ist, was rein im Innern des Menschen ablaufen kann, was mit der äußeren Welt des Makrokosmos sozusagen nichts zu tun hat, kann man zu einer objektiven Würdigung des Christus Jesus überhaupt nicht kommen. Da kommt man zu allerlei grotesken Ideen, nie aber zu einer Beziehung zu dem ChristusEreignis. Wenn der Mensch glaubt, daß er das höchste menschliche Ideal, wie es für die Erdentwickelung angemessen ist, erreichen kann auf einem bloßen inneren Seelenwege, durch eine Art Selbsterlösung, dann ist eine Beziehung zu dem objektiven Christus nicht möglich. Man könnte auch sagen: Sobald der Erlösungsgedanke für den Menschen etwas ist, was sich auf psychologischem Wege beantworten läßt, gibt es keine Beziehung zu dem Christus. Wer aber tiefer in die Weltgeheimnisse eindringt, wird sehr bald finden, daß, wenn der Mensch glauben kann, daß er sein höchstes Ideal des Erdendaseins lediglich durch sich selbst, nur durch innere Entwickelung erlangen kann, er überhaupt seinen Zusammenhang mit dem Makrokosmos abschneidet; daß er dann den Makrokosmos wie eine Art Natur vor sich hat — und dann wieder die innere Seelenentwickelung neben dem Makrokosmos als etwas parallel damit Verlaufendes; aber einen Zusammenhang zwischen beiden kann er nicht finden. Das ist ja gerade das furchtbar Groteske in der Entwickelung des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts, daß das, was einen Zusammenhang braucht — Mikrokosmos und Makrokosmos —, entzweit, auseinandergerissen worden ist. Wäre das nicht geschehen, so hätten alle die Mißverständnisse nicht entstehen können, die verknüpft sind mit den Namen «theoretischer Materialismus» auf der einen Seite und «abstrakter Idealismus» auf der anderen Seite. Denken Sie, daß das Auseinanderreißen von Mikrokosmos und Makrokosmos dazu geführt hat, daß die Menschen, die wenig auf das innere Seelenleben achten, dazu kamen, daß sie das innere Seelenleben wie die äußere Leiblichkeit zu dem Makrokosmos rechneten, um dann alles im materiellen Prozesse aufgehen zu lassen. Die andern, die gewahr wurden, daß es doch ein inneres Leben gibt, verfielen nach und nach in Abstraktionen bei allem, was schließlich nur für die menschliche Seele eine Bedeutung hat.
Wenn man sich über diese schwierige Sache klar sein will, muß man vielleicht an etwas sehr Bedeutsames erinnern, was die Menschen in den Mysterien gelernt haben. Fragen Sie sich einmal, wie viele Menschen in ihrem innersten Bewußtsein heute glauben: Wenn ich irgend etwas denke — zum Beispiel über meinen Nebenmenschen einen schlechten Gedanken habe — so hat das für die Außenwelt ja schließlich keine Bedeutung; der Gedanke ist nur in mir. Eine ganz andere Bedeutung hat es, wenn ich ihm eine Ohrfeige gebe; das ist ein Ereignis auf dem physischen Plan; das andere ist eine bloße Empfindung oder ein bloßer Gedanke. - Oder gehen wir weiter. Wie viele Menschen gibt es, die, wenn sie eine Sünde, eine Lüge oder einen Irrtum begehen, sagen: Das ist etwas, was in der menschlichen Seele vorgeht — und im Gegensatze dazu, wenn etwa ein Stein vom Dache fällt: Das ist etwas, was draußen vorgeht. — Da wird man nach grobsinnlichem Begreifen leicht dem Menschen klarmachen können: wenn ein Stein vom Dache fällt, oder vielleicht zufällig ins Wasser fällt, da werden im Wasser Wellen erregt, die weiterspielen und so weiter, so daß das alles Wirkungen hat, die sich im geheimen fortsetzen; aber was in der Seele eines Menschen vorgeht, das ist abgeschlossen von allem anderen. Daher haben die Menschen glauben können, daß es überhaupt eine Angelegenheit der Seele ist, sagen wir, zu sündigen, zu irren und das wieder gutzumachen. Auf ein solches Bewußtsein müßte eines, was wenigstens einer größeren Anzahl von uns in den letzten zwei Jahren entgegengetreten ist, grotesk wirken. Ich möchte in dem Rosenkreuzerdrama «Die Pforte der Einweihung» an die Szene erinnern, wo Capesius und Strader auftreten in der astralen Welt, und wo gezeigt wird, wie das, was sie denken, reden und fühlen, nicht bedeutungslos ist für die objektive Welt, für den Makrokosmos, sondern geradezu Stürme entfesselt in den Elementen. Es ist ja wirklich für die heutigen Menschen toll, zu denken, daß zerstörende Kräfte dadurch auch für den Makrokosmos wirken, daß jemand einen unrichtigen Gedanken hat. Das aber wurde den Menschen in den Mysterien recht sehr klar gemacht, daß, wenn jemand zum Beispiel lügt, Irrtümer begeht, dies ein realer Vorgang ist, der nicht bloß mit uns etwas zu tun hat. Das deutsche Sprichwort ist sogar entstanden: «Gedanken sind zollfrei», weil man eben die Zollschranke nicht sieht, wenn die Gedanken aufdämmern. Sie gehören aber dann der objektiven Welt an, sind nicht bloß Ereignisse der Seele. Da hat dann der Mysterienschüler gesehen: Wenn du eine Lüge sagst, bedeutet das in der übersinnlichen Welt eine Verfinsterung eines gewissen Lichtes, und wenn du eine lieblose Handlung begehst, so wird dadurch in der geistigen Welt durch das Feuer der Lieblosigkeit etwas verbrannt; und mit den Irrtümern löschest du Licht aus dem Makrokosmos aus. — Das war die Wirkung, die dem Schüler gezeigt wurde durch das objektive Ereignis: wie durch den Irrtum auf dem Astralplan etwas ausgelöscht wird und Finsternis auftritt, oder wie eine lieblose Handlung wie ein zerstörendes und verbrennendes Feuer wirkt.
Der Mensch weiß im exoterischen Leben nicht, was um ihn herum vorgeht. Er ist wirklich wie der Vogel Strauß und muß den Kopf in den Sand stecken, weil er die Wirkungen nicht sieht, die aber doch vorhanden sind. Die Wirkungen der Empfindungen sind da, und anschaulich wurden sie für die übersinnlichen Augen, wenn der Mensch zum Beispiel in die Mysterien geführt wurde. Das aber ist etwas, was nur dem neunzehnten Jahrhundert passieren konnte, daß man sich sagte: Alles, was der Mensch gesündigt hat, was er an Schwäche an sich hat, ist nur seine persönliche Angelegenheit; die Erlösung muß durch ein Ereignis in der Seele eintreten. Daher kann Christus auch nur ein innerliches Ereignis der Seele sein. — Was notwendig ist, damit der Mensch nicht nur seinen Weg zu dem Christus findet, sondern seinen Zusammenhang mit dem Makrokosmos überhaupt nicht abreißt, das ist die Erkenntnis: Begehst du Irrtum und Sünde, so sind dies objektive, nicht subjektive Ereignisse, und es geschieht dadurch etwas draußen in der Welt. Und in dem Augenblick, wo der Mensch sich bewußt wird, daß mit seiner Sünde und mit seinem Irrtum etwas Objektives geschieht, wo er weiß, es wirkt etwas, was er getan hat und von sich weggegeben hat, was nicht mehr mit ihm zusammenhängt, aber zusammenhängt mit dem ganzen objektiven Gange der Weltentwickelung, wird der Mensch, wenn er nun den ganzen Gang der Weltentwickelung überblickt, nicht mehr sagen können, daß es nur eine innere Angelegenheit der Seele ist, das, was er angerichtet hat, wieder gutzumachen. Es gäbe eine Möglichkeit, die sogar eine gute Bedeutung hat: daß man das, was den Menschen in Irrtum und Schwäche bringt und gebracht hat durch die aufeinanderfolgenden Erdenleben, als eine innere Angelegenheit nicht des einzelnen Lebens, aber des Karmas ansieht. Aber dafür gibt es keine Möglichkeit, daß ein Ereignis, das nicht geschichtlich ist und nicht der Menschheit angehört, wie es bei dem luziferischen Einfluß in der alten lemurischen Zeit der Fall ist, durch ein menschliches Ereignis wieder aus der Welt geschafft werden könnte! Durch das luziferische Ereignis ist auf der einen Seite die große Wohltat dem Menschen geworden, daß er zum freien Menschen wurde; aber auf der anderen Seite hat er dafür in Kauf nehmen müssen, daß er abirren kann von dem Pfade des Guten und des Rechten, auch von dem Pfade des Wahren. Was im Laufe der Inkarnationen eingetreten ist, ist eine Angelegenheit des Karmas. Aber alles, was so sich einnistet vom Makrokosmos in den Mikrokosmos, was die luziferischen Kräfte dem Menschen gegeben haben, das ist etwas, womit der Mensch allein nicht fertig wird. Um das wieder auszugleichen — dazu braucht es einer objektiven Tat. Kurz, der Mensch muß empfinden, weil das, was er als Irrtum und Sünde begeht, nicht bloß subjektiv ist, daß auch nicht bloß ein Subjektives in der Seele genügt, um die Erlösung herbeizuführen.
So wird der, welcher überzeugt ist von der Objektivität des Irrtums, auch unmittelbar einsehen die Objektivität der Erlösungstat. Man kann gar nicht den luziferischen Einfluß als eine objektive Tat hinstellen, ohne zugleich die ausgleichende Tat — das Ereignis von Golgatha — hinzustellen. Und als Theosoph hat man im Grunde genommen nur die Wahl zwischen zwei Dingen. Man kann alles auf Grundlage des Karmas setzen; dann hat man natürlich für alles, was durch den Menschen selbst herbeigeführt wird, durchaus recht; aber man kommt dann in die Notwendigkeit, die wiederholten Leben nach vorn und nach rückwärts in beliebiger Weise zu verlängern, und kommt zu keinem Ende nach vorn und rückwärts. Das geht immer wie das gleiche Rad rund herum. Jener konkrete Gedanke der Entwickelung dagegen — und das ist das andere — wie wir ihn fassen mußten: daß es ein Saturn-, ein Sonnen- und ein Mondendasein gab, die ganz verschieden sind vom Erdendasein, daß dann im Erdendasein erst jene Art der wiederholten Erdenleben stattfindet, wie wir sie kennen, daß dann das luziferische Ereignis da war als ein einmaliges Ereignis, — das alles gibt erst dem, was wir theosophische Anschauung nennen, einen wirklichen Inhalt. Das alles aber ist nicht zu denken ohne die Objektivität des Ereignisses von Golgatha.
Wenn wir die vorchristlichen Zeiten betrachten, so waren — von einer anderen Seite aus wurde das schon erwähnt — die Menschen in einer gewissen Beziehung anders. Die Menschen haben, als sie hinuntergestiegen sind aus den geistigen Welten in die irdischen Inkarnationen, eine gewisse Summe des göttlichen substantiellen Elementes mitgenommen. Das versiegte nur nach und nach, je weiter der Mensch in den Erdeninkarnationen vorrückte, und war versiegt in der Zeit, als die Ereignisse von Palästina heranrückten. Daher haben die Menschen in den vorchristlichen Zeiten, wenn sie sozusagen auf ihre eigene Schwäche reflektierten, immer gefühlt: es stammt doch das Beste, was der Mensch hat,”her aus der göttlichen Sphäre, aus welcher der Mensch heruntergestiegen ist. Sie haben immer noch die letzten Nachwirkungen des göttlichen Elementes gefühlt. Das aber war versiegt, als der Täufer Johannes den Ausspruch tat: Ändert eure Auffassung von der Welt, denn die Zeiten sind andere geworden; jetzt werdet ihr nicht mehr wie bisher zum Geistigen emporsteigen können, weil der Ausblick in die alte Geistigkeit nicht mehr möglich ist. Andert den Sinn und empfanget jene göttliche Wesenheit, welche aufs neue den Menschen geben soll, was sie verlieren mußten durch ihr Herabsteigen! — Deshalb wurde auch — man mag es hinwegleugnen, wenn man abstrakt denken will, man kann es aber nicht hinwegleugnen, wenn man mit einem wirklichen konkreten Blick auf die äußere Geschichte sieht — das ganze Fühlen und Empfinden der Menschen anders um die Wende der alten und der neuen Zeit, deren Abgegrenztheit dargestellt ist durch die Ereignisse von Palästina. Die Menschen fingen an, sich verlassen zu fühlen, nachdem die Ereignisse von Palästina geschehen waren. Sie fingen an sich verlassen zu fühlen, wenn sie an die schwersten Fragen herantraten, die das Innerste, das Konkreteste der Seele betrafen, wenn sie sich zum Beispiel fragten: Was wird aus mir im ganzen Zusammenhange des Weltalls, wenn ich durch die Todespforte mit einer Anzahl unausgeglichener Taten gehe? Da trat denn heran an diese Menschen ein Gedanke, der allerdings aus der Sehnsucht der Seele zunächst geboren werden konnte, der aber nur dadurch befriedigt werden konnte, daß die Menschenseele die Anschauung fand: Ja, es hat ein Wesen gelebt, das da hereingetreten ist in die Menschheitsentwickelung, an das du dich halten kannst, und das in der Außenwelt, wo du nicht hin kannst, wirkt zum Ausgleiche deiner Taten; das dir hilft, das gutzumachen, was durch die luziferischen Einflüsse schlecht gemacht worden ist! — Das Sichverlassenfühlen und das Sichgeborgenfühlen in einer objektiven Macht trat in die Menschheit herein; das Empfinden, daß die Sünde eine reale Macht ist, eine objektive Tatsache. Und das andere, was dazu gehört: daß das Erlösende eine objektive Tatsache ist, etwas, was nicht der einzelne ausmachen kann, weil er nicht den luziferischen Einfluß hereinbeschworen hat, sondern nur der, der in den Welten wirkt, in denen Luzifer bewußt wirkt.
Dies alles, was ich so darstellte mit Worten, die aus der Geisteswissenschaft genommen sind, das war nicht bewußt als Begriffe, als Erkenntnis vorhanden, aber es lag in den Gefühlen und Empfindungen; und es lebte die Notwendigkeit, sich zu dem Christus zu wenden in den Gefühlen und Empfindungen. Dann gab es natürlich für diese Menschen die Möglichkeit, in den christlichen Gemeinschaften die Wege zu finden, um alle solche Empfindungen und Gefühle zu vertiefen. Was fand denn schließlich der Mensch in der Zeit, da er seinen ursprünglichen Zusammenhang mit den Göttern verloren hatte, wenn er draußen die Materie anschaute? Immer mehr und mehr verlor sich durch das Heruntersteigen des Menschen in die Materie der Anblick des Spirituellen, des physisch Göttlichen in der großen Welt. Die Reste des alten Hellsehens, die noch da waren, verloren sich allmählich, und die Natur wurde in einer gewissen Weise entgöttert. Eine bloße materielle Welt war vor dem Menschen ausgebreitet. Und dieser materiellen Welt gegenüber konnte der Mensch gar nicht den Glauben aufrechterhalten, daß darinnen ein ChristusPrinzip objektiv wirksam sein soll. Was sich zum Beispiel im neunzehnten Jahrhundert herausgebildet hat: daß die Welt, wie sie unserer Erde zugrunde liegt, sich aus dem Kant-Laplaceschen Weltennebel herausgestellt hat, daß dann auf den einzelnen Planeten das Leben entstanden sei, und was schließlich dazu geführt hat, überhaupt die ganze Welt als ein Zusammenwirken von Atomen zu denken, da hinein den Christus zu denken, in das Weltbild des materialistischen Naturdenkers den Christus hineinzudenken, das wäre allerdings Wahnsinn. Gegenüber diesem Weltbilde ist die Christus-Wesenheit nicht aufrechtzuerhalten. Gegenüber diesem Weltbilde ist überhaupt nichts Geistiges aufrechtzuerhalten. Aber wir müssen es verstehen, daß jemand das sagt, was ich Ihnen vorgelesen habe: daß er sein ganzes Weltbild durchschneiden müßte, wenn er die Auferstehung glauben sollte. Dieses ganze Weltbild, das dann nach und nach entstanden ist, zeigt nur, daß für die äußere Naturbetrachtung, in bezug auf das Denken über die äußere Natur, die Möglichkeit geschwunden ist, sich hineinzudenken in das lebendige Wesen der Naturtatsachen.
Wenn ich jetzt in dieser Weise spreche, so ist das keine abfällige Kritik. Es mußte geschehen, daß einmal die Natur entgöttert und entgeistert wurde, damit der Mensch die Summe von abstrakten Gedanken fassen konnte, um die äußere Natur zu begreifen, wie es in der kopernikanischen, keplerischen und galileischen Anschauung möglich geworden ist. Es mußte die Menschheit das Gewebe von Gedanken ergreifen, wie es zu unserem Maschinenzeitalter geführt hat. Aber auf der anderen Seite war dazu notwendig, daß diese Zeit einen Ersatz hatte für das, was nicht da sein konnte im exoterischen Leben, einen Ersatz dafür, daß es unmöglich geworden war, unmittelbar von der Erde den Weg zum Geistigen zu finden. Denn hätte man den Weg zum Geistigen finden können, so hätte man den Weg zum Christus finden müssen, wie man ihn in den nächsten Jahrhunderten finden wird. Ein Ersatz mußte da sein.
Die Frage ist nun: Was ist notwendig gewesen für einen exoterischen Weg des Menschen zum Christus während der Jahrhunderte, in denen sich nach und nach eine Weltanschauung vorbereitete, die atomistisch war, die immer mehr und mehr die Natur entgöttern mußte, und die hineinwuchs bis ins neunzehnte Jahrhundert in eine entgötterte Naturbetrachtung?
Zweierlei war notwendig. Auf zweierlei Wegen konnte exoterisch der geistige Anblick des Christus gefunden werden. Das eine konnte dadurch geschehen, daß dem Menschen die Möglichkeit vorgeführt wurde, daß es allerdings nicht wahr ist, daß alle Materie dem menschlichen Innern, dem Geistigen im eigenen Innern ein völlig Fremdes ist, Es mußte auf der einen Seite tatsächlich die Möglichkeit vorgeführt werden, daß es nicht richtig ist, daß überall im Raume, wo Materie erscheint, nur Materie vorhanden ist. Wodurch konnte das geschehen? Auf keinem anderen Wege konnte das geschehen, als daß man dem Menschen etwas vermittelte, was zugleich Geist und zugleich Materie ist, wovon er wissen mußte, daß es Geist ist, und wovon er sah, daß es Materie ist. Das mußte also lebendig bleiben: die Verwandlung, die ewig gültige Verwandlung von Geist in Materie, von Materie in Geist. Und das ist dadurch geschehen, daß sich das Abendmahl als eine christliche Einrichtung durch die Jahrhunderte herauf erhalten hat, daß es gepflegt worden ist. Und je weiter wir, seit Einsetzung des Abendmahles, in die Jahrhunderte zurückgehen, desto mehr spüren wir, wie die älteren, noch weniger materialistischen Zeiten das Abendmahl auch besser noch verstanden haben. Denn gegenüber den höheren Dingen ist es in der Regel so, daß als Beweis dafür, daß man sie nicht mehr versteht, die Tatsache sich zeigt, daß man über sie zu diskutieren anfängt. Es gibt eben einfach Dinge, bei denen die Sache so liegt, daß man, solange sie verstanden werden, wenig über sie diskutiert, und daß man anfängt zu streiten, wenn man sie nicht mehr versteht; wie überhaupt Diskussionen ein Beweis dafür sind, daß die Mehrzahl derer, die über die Sache diskutieren, sie nicht verstehen. So war es auch mit dem Abendmahl. Solange vom Abendmahl gewußt wurde, daß es den lebendigen Beweis dafür bedeutet, daß Materie nicht bloß Materie ist, sondern daß es zeremonielle Handlungen gibt, durch die der Materie der Geist beigefügt werden kann, solange der Mensch wußte, daß diese Durchdringung der Materie mit dem Geist eine Durchchristung ist, wie sie im Abendmahl zum Ausdruck kommt, so lange wurde es hingenommen, ohne daß man sich stritt. Dann aber kam die Zeit, wo der Materialismus schon heraufkam, wo man dann nicht mehr verstand, was dem Abendmahl zugrunde liegt, wo man stritt, ob Brot und Wein bloße Sinnbilder des Göttlichen seien, oder ob da wirklich göttliche Kraft hineinfließe; kurz, wo alle die Streitigkeiten kamen, die eben im Beginne der neuen Zeit entstanden, die aber für den, der tiefer sieht, nichts anderes bedeuten, als daß das ursprüngliche Verständnis für die Sache verlorengegangen war. Das Abendmahl war für die Menschen, die zu dem Christus hinkommen wollten, ein völliger Ersatz für den esoterischen Weg, wenn sie diesen nicht gehen konnten, so daß sie in dem Abendmahl eine wirkliche Vereinigung mit dem Christus finden konnten. Aber alle Dinge haben ihre Zeit. Freilich, so wahr es ist, daß in bezug auf das spirituelle Leben ein ganz neues Zeitalter anbricht, so wahr ist es auch, daß der Weg zum Christus, der für viele Jahrhunderte der richtige war, es auch für viele Jahrhunderte noch bleiben wird. Die Dinge gehen nach und nach ineinander über, aber das, was früher richtig war, wird sich nach und nach in ein anderes verwandeln, wenn die Menschen dafür reif werden. Und dazu soll die Theosophie wirken: im Geiste selber etwas Konkretes, etwas Reales zu erfassen. Dadurch, daß zum Beispiel durch Meditationen, Konzentrationen und alles, was wir lernen als die Erkenntnisse höherer Welten, die Menschen reif werden, in ihrem Innern nicht bloß Gedankenwelten, nicht bloß abstrakte Gefühls- und Empfindungswelten zu leben, sondern sich in ihrem Innern zu durchdringen mit dem Element des Geistes, dadurch werden sie die Kommunion im Geiste erleben; dadurch werden Gedanken — als meditative Gedanken — im Menschen leben können, die ebendasselbe sein werden, nur von innen heraus, wie es das Zeichen des Abendmahles — das geweihte Brot — von außen gewesen ist. Und wie sich der unentwickelte Christ seinen Weg durch das Abendmahl zu dem Christus suchen konnte, so kann der entwickelte Christ, der durch die vorgeschrittene Wissenschaft des Geistes die Gestalt des Christus kennen lernt, sich im Geiste zu dem erheben, was ja auch in Zukunft ein exoterischer Weg für die Menschen werden soll. Das wird als die Kraft fließen, die dem Menschen eine Erweiterung des Christus-Impulses bringen soll. Aber dann werden sich auch alle Zeremonien ändern, und was früher durch die Attribute von Brot und Wein geschehen ist, das wird in Zukunft durch ein geistiges Abendmahl geschehen. Der Gedanke jedoch des Abendmahles, der Kommunion wird bleiben. Es muß nur einmal die Möglichkeit gegeben werden, daß gewisse Gedanken, die uns zufließen durch die Mitteilungen innerhalb der Bewegung für Geisteswissenschaft, daß gewisse innere Gedanken, innere Fühlungen ebenso weihevoll das Innere durchdringen und durchgeistigen, wie in dem besten Sinne der inneren christlichen Entwickelung das Abendmahl die Menschenseele durchgeistigt und durchchristet hat. Wenn das möglich wird — und es wird möglich — dann sind wir wieder um eine Etappe in der Entwickelung weitergeschritten. Und dadurch wird wieder der reale Beweis geliefert werden, daß das Christentum größer ist als seine äußere Form. Denn der hat eine geringe Meinung über das Christentum, der da glaubt, daß es hinweggefegt würde, wenn die äußere Form des Christentums einer bestimmten Zeit hinweggefegt wird. Der nur hat die wahre Meinung von dem Christentum, der durchdrungen ist von der Überzeugung, daß alle Kirchen, die den Christus-Gedanken gepflegt haben, alle äußeren Gedanken, alle äußeren Formen zeitlich und daher vorübergehend sind, daß aber der Christus-Gedanke sich in immer neuen Formen hereinleben wird in die Herzen und Seelen der Menschen in der Zukunft, so wenig diese neuen Formen sich auch heute schon zeigen. So lehrt uns eigentlich erst die Geisteswissenschaft, wie auf dem exoterischen Wege das Abendmahl seine Bedeutung hatte in früheren Zeiten.
Und der andere exoterische Weg war der durch die Evangelien. Und da muß man wieder gewahr werden, was die Evangelien in früheren Zeiten noch für die Menschen waren. Die Zeit liegt gar nicht so weit hinter uns, da las man die Evangelien nicht so wie im neunzehnten Jahrhundert; sondern da las man sie so, daß man sie als einen lebendigen Quell betrachtete, aus dem Substantielles in die Seelen übergeht. Man las sie auch nicht so, wie ich es in der ersten Stunde dieses Zyklus auseinandergesetzt habe bei Besprechung eines falschen Weges, sondern man las sie so, daß man von außen entgegenkommen sah, wonach die Seele lechzte; daß sie den realen Erlöser geschildert fand, von dem sie wußte, daß er ganz gewiß da sein muß im Weltenall.
Für Menschen, die die Evangelien so zu lesen verstanden, waren eigentlich unendlich viele Fragen schon erledigt, die für die gescheiten, für die ganz klugen Leute des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts erst Fragen wurden. Man braucht da nur auf eines hinzuweisen: wie viele Male ist es wiederholt worden bei Besprechung der Christus Jesus-Fragen — in der einen oder anderen Form — von den ganz klugen Leuten, denen alle Wissenschaftlichkeit und Gelehrsamkeit schon an den Haaren herauswuchs, daß mit der modernen Weltanschauung doch wahrhaftig nicht vereinbar sei der Gedanke an den Christus Jesus und die Ereignisse von Palästina! Da wird in einer scheinbar recht einleuchtenden Weise gesagt: als der Mensch noch nicht wußte, daß die Erde ein ganz kleiner Weltenkörper ist, da konnte er glauben, daß mit dem Kreuz von Golgatha auf der Erde ein neues, besonderes Ereignis geschehen sei. Aber nachdem Kopernikus gelehrt hat, daß die Erde ein Planet ist wie andere, konnte man da noch annehmen, daß Christus von einem anderen Planeten zu uns gewandert ist? Warum sollte man annehmen, daß die Erde eine solche Ausnahmestellung habe, wie man geglaubt hatte?! Und dann wurde das Bild gebraucht: seitdem sich die Weltanschauung so erweitert hat, erschien es so, wie wenn eine der wichtigsten Aufführungen oder Darstellungen künstlerischer Art, nicht auf einer großen Bühne einer Hauptstadt stattfände, sondern auf der kleinen Bühne irgendeines Provinztheaters. So erschienen den Leuten die Ereignisse von Palästina — weil die Erde ein so winzig kleiner Weltenkörper ist — wie die Aufführung eines großen weltgeschichtlichen Dramas auf der Bühne eines kleinen Provinztheaters. Und das könnte man sich doch nimmermehr denken, weil eben die Erde so klein ist gegenüber der großen Welt! Es schaut so gescheit aus, wenn so etwas gesagt wird; es ist aber nicht viel Gescheitheit da drinnen. Denn es hat ja niemals das Christentum das behauptet, was hier scheinbar widerlegt wird. Das Christentum hat nicht einmal in die glanzvollen Stätten des Erdendaseins das Aufgehen des Christus-Impulses verlegt, sondern immer ist ein gewisser großer Ernst darin gesehen worden, im Stall bei armen Hirten den Träger des Christus geboren werden zu lassen. Nicht nur die kleine Erde, sondern die Stätte, die eben ganz verborgen auf der Erde ist, hatte man in der christlichen "Tradition ausgesucht, um den Christus da hineinzuversetzen. Die Fragen der ganz gescheiten Leute sind im Christentum schon ursprünglich beantwortet gewesen; man hat nur die Antworten, die das Christentum selber gegeben hat, nicht verstanden, weil man nicht mehr die lebendige Kraft der großen majestätischen Bilder auf die Seele wirken lassen konnte.
Dennoch hätte in den Evangelienbildern allein, ohne das Abendmahl und was damit zusammenhängt — denn das steht in der Mitte der ganzen christlichen und anderen Kulte —, der exoterische Weg der Menschen zu dem Christus nicht gefunden werden können; denn die Evangelien hätten in dem Grade nicht populär werden können, wenn einzig und allein durch sie der Weg zu dem Christus hätte populär werden müssen. Und als dann die Evangelien populär wurden, zeigte es sich, daß das gar nicht so sehr zum innerlichen Segen gereichte. Denn mit der Popularisierung der Evangelien entstand auch zugleich das große Mißverständnis: das Trivialnehmen und dann all das, was das neunzehnte Jahrhundert aus den Evangelien gemacht hat, was ja, rein objektiv sei es gesagt, schlimm genug ist, daß es geschehen ist. Ich denke, Anthroposophen könnten es verstehen, was es heißt, wenn man sagt: «schlimm genug»; daß man damit nicht eine Kritik meint und auch nicht den Fleiß verkennt, den bei den wissenschaftlichen, einschließlich aller naturwissenschaftlichen Arbeiten die Forschung des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts aufgebracht hat. Aber das ist ja gerade das 'Tragische, daß diese Wissenschaft — und wer sie kennt, wird das zugeben — gerade wegen ihres tiefen Ernstes und ihres ungeheuer hingebungsvollen Fleißes, die man nur bewundern kann, zu einem vollständigen Zersplittern und Vernichten dessen geführt hat, was sie hat lehren wollen. Und die künftige Entwickelung der Menschheit wird dies als ein besonders tragisches Kulturereignis unseres Zeitalters empfinden, daß man hat wissenschaftlich die Bibel erobern wollen durch eine unendlich bewundernswürdige Wissenschaft, und daß dies dazu geführt hat, daß man die Bibel verloren hat.
So sehen wir, daß wir nach diesen beiden Richtungen in bezug auf das Exoterische in einem Übergangszeitalter leben, und daß wir die alten Wege — sofern wir den Geist der Theosophie ergriffen haben — in andere hinüberleiten müssen. Und nachdem wir so die verflossenen exoterischen Wege zu dem Christus-Impuls betrachtet haben, werden wir morgen sehen, wie sich das Verhältnis zu dem Christus im esoterischen Gebiete gestaltet — und werden den Abschluß unserer Betrachtungen herbeiführen, der darin bestehen soll, daß wir das Christus-Ereignis zu erfassen in die Lage kommen, nicht nur für die ganze Menschheitsentwickelung, sondern für jeden einzelnen Menschen. Mit dieser Betrachtung wollen wir unseren Weg, der in diesem Zyklus eingeschlagen werden sollte, zu Ende führen. Wir werden den esoterischen Weg kürzer betrachten können, weil wir die Bausteine dazu in den verflossenen Jahren schon herbeigetragen haben. Und so werden wir die Krönung unseres Gebäudes dadurch herbeiführen, indem wir das Verhältnis des Christus-Impulses zu einer jeden einzelnen Menschenseele ins Auge fassen.
Ninth Lecture
The lectures that have been given so far have essentially led us to two questions. One question relates to the objective event associated with the name of Christ Jesus; it relates to the nature of the impulse that intervened in human development as the Christ impulse. The other question relates to how the individual human being can establish a relationship with the Christ impulse, how this Christ impulse becomes effective for the individual human being, so to speak. Of course, the answers to these two questions are connected. For we have seen that the Christ event is an objective fact of human earthly evolution and that something real, something actual, emanates from what we encountered in the Resurrection. In a sense, a kind of seed for the restoration of the state of our human phantom rose from the grave with Christ, and what rose from the grave with Christ as a seed has the possibility of becoming incorporated into those human beings who find a relationship to the Christ impulse.
This is the objective part of the relationship between the individual human being and the Christ impulse. Today we want to add the subjective side to the considerations we have been engaged in over the last few days, that is, we want to try to find an answer to the question that can be posed as follows: How does the individual human being find the possibility of gradually taking into himself what has gone forth from the resurrection of Christ.
If we want to answer this question, we must first distinguish between two things. When Christianity entered the world as a religion, it was not merely a religion for people with occult aspirations, that is, for people who wanted to approach Christ by some spiritual means; rather, Christianity was a religion that was intended to be suitable for all people, that could be accepted by all people. Therefore, it must not be believed that a special occult or esoteric development was necessary in order to find the way to Christ. Therefore, we must first consider the one way to Christ, the exoteric way, which every soul, every heart, has been able to find in the course of time. And then we must distinguish this path from the other: the path that has been open until now, up to our time, to a soul that wants to follow the esoteric path; that is, a soul that does not want to seek Christ merely on the outer path, but wants to seek him through the development of occult forces. So we must distinguish between the path of the physical plane and the path of the supersensible worlds.
There has hardly been a century in which the external, exoteric path to Christ was as unclear as in the nineteenth century. And the course of the nineteenth century was such that the first half of this century was even clearer than the second. It can be said that people have increasingly distanced themselves from an understanding of the path to Christ. In this respect, people who participate in today's thinking no longer have the right ideas about how souls found their way to the Christ impulse in the eighteenth century, for example, and how, even in the first half of the nineteenth century, a certain possibility still shone through of finding the Christ impulse as something real. In the nineteenth century, this path to Christ was lost to most people. And this is understandable when we consider that we are standing at the starting point of a new path to Christ. We have often spoken of the new path that is opening up to souls, of a renewal of the Christ event, so to speak. It is always the case in the development of humanity that a kind of low point must be reached in relation to a particular matter before a new light can shine forth. Thus, the turning away from the spiritual worlds that occurred in the nineteenth century is only natural in view of the fact that in the twentieth century, in the peculiar way that has often been mentioned, a completely new epoch must begin for the spiritual life of human beings.
Sometimes even people who have already found their way into spiritual science feel as if the spiritual movement we have today is something entirely new. If we disregard the fact that the enrichment experienced by spiritual striving in the West in recent times consists in the ideas of reincarnation and karma have been incorporated, if we disregard the influence of the teaching of repeated earthly lives and its significance for the whole of human development, we must say that, apart from that, the paths into the spiritual world, which are very similar to our theosophical ones, are by no means something entirely new for the development of Western humanity. However, people who seek to ascend to the spiritual worlds on the present path of theosophy find themselves somewhat alienated by the manner in which theosophy was practiced in the eighteenth century. In these regions (Baden) and especially in Württemberg, there was a great deal of theosophy in the eighteenth century. But everywhere there was a lack of a clear view of the teaching of repeated lives on earth, and this clouded the whole field of theosophical work in a certain way. Even for those who were able to gain deep insights into occult connections, and especially into the connection between the world and the Christ impulse, these insights were clouded by the lack of a correct teaching about repeated earthly lives. But from the whole sphere of the Christian worldview and Christian life, something like a theosophical striving always arose. And this theosophical striving had an effect everywhere, even in the outer, exoteric paths of people who could not go further than an outer participation in, let us say, Christian community life or the like. But we can see how theosophy permeated Christian striving when we mention names such as Bengel, Oetinger, people who were active in Württemberg, who in their whole manner — if we take into account that they lacked the idea of repeated earthly lives — arrived at everything that can be arrived at in relation to higher views of the development of humanity, insofar as the Christ impulse is inherent in them. When we consider this, we must say that the basic nerve of theosophical life has always existed. That is why there is much that is correct in what Rothe, who taught at the University of Heidelberg in the immediate vicinity of Karlsruhe, wrote in the preface to a book published in 1847, specifically about some aspects of eighteenth-century theosophy. He says:
“What theosophy actually wants is often difficult to discern in the older theosophists... but it is no less clear that theosophy, on its present path, cannot achieve a scientific existence and therefore cannot have any greater effect. It would be very hasty to conclude from this that it is a scientifically unjustified and merely ephemeral phenomenon. History itself is loud enough testimony to the contrary. It tells us how this enigmatic phenomenon has never been able to penetrate, and yet has broken through again and again, held together in its most diverse forms by a chain of never-ending tradition."
Now we must remember that the person who wrote this harshly could only have known theosophy in the 1840s as it was presented by some theosophists of the 18th century. One must say that what came across then could not be clothed in the forms of our scientific thinking; therefore, it was difficult to believe that theosophy at that time could spread to wider circles. If we disregard this, then a voice from the 1840s that tells us the following must seem significant to us:
“... And what is most important is that once it has become a true science and has produced clearly defined results, these will gradually become part of general conviction or become popular, and will thus be handed down as universally valid truths that cannot find their way back to the paths along which they were discovered and could only be discovered.”
However, there is then a pessimistic turn that we can no longer share today with regard to theosophy. For anyone who finds their way into the present-day form of spiritual scientific endeavor will gain the conviction that this theosophy can become popular in the broadest circles in the way it aims to work. Therefore, such a turn of phrase can only encourage us when it continues:
“But this rests in the bosom of the future, which we do not wish to anticipate; for now we may gratefully enjoy the beautiful presentation of dear Oetinger, which may certainly count on participation in a wide circle.”
Thus we see how theosophy is, so to speak, a pious hope of people who, as it were, still knew something of the old theosophy from the eighteenth century. Then, however, the stream of theosophical life was overwhelmed by the materialistic striving of the nineteenth century, and through what we are now able to take in as the dawn of a new age, we are once again approaching real spiritual life, but now in a form that can be so scientific that it can, in essence, be understood by every heart and every soul. The nineteenth century completely lost its understanding of something that the theosophists of the eighteenth century still possessed in full, something they called the “central sense.” We know, for example, that Oetinger, who worked here in the immediate vicinity, in Murrhardt, was for a time a pupil of a very simple man in Thuringia, whom his pupils knew to possess what was called the central sense. What was this central sense for the time? It was nothing other than what arises in every human being when they follow with earnestness and iron energy what you will also find in my book How to Know Higher Worlds. Basically, it was nothing else that this simple man in Thuringia — his name was Völker — possessed, and what he then achieved in a form of theosophy that was very interesting for his time and had an influence on Oetinger. Just as it is difficult for people today to realize that a deeper understanding of theosophy is actually so close at hand, and that this deeper understanding has a rich literature, albeit buried in libraries and antique bookshops, so it is difficult for them to accept the Christ event as an objective fact at all. How much was discussed in this direction in the nineteenth century! It is impossible to even sketch out in a short time how many different views on Christ Jesus were held in the nineteenth century. And if one takes the trouble to examine a large number of views, whether lay or theological, about Jesus Christ, one really encounters certain difficulties in trying to relate what the nineteenth century produced on this very question to times when better traditions still prevailed. Even in the nineteenth century, it became possible to regard as great Christian theologians people who were completely alien to the idea of an objective Christ who entered world history and worked in it. And this brings us to the question: What relationship to Christ can someone find who does not follow an esoteric path, but remains entirely in the realm of the exoteric.
As long as one stands on the ground on which even nineteenth-century theologians stood, namely that human development is something that can take place purely within the human being and has nothing to do with the outer world of the macrocosm, so to speak, it is impossible to arrive at an objective appreciation of Christ Jesus. This leads to all kinds of grotesque ideas, but never to a relationship with the Christ event. If people believe that they can attain the highest human ideal, as appropriate for the evolution of the earth, by a mere inner soul path, through a kind of self-redemption, then a relationship with the objective Christ is not possible. One could also say: as soon as the idea of redemption is something that can be answered by psychological means, there is no relationship to Christ. But anyone who penetrates more deeply into the mysteries of the world will very soon find that if human beings can believe that they can attain their highest ideal of earthly existence solely through themselves, by inner development alone, he cuts himself off from his connection with the macrocosm; that he then has the macrocosm before him as a kind of nature — and then again the inner soul development alongside the macrocosm as something parallel to it; but he cannot find a connection between the two. This is precisely what is so terribly grotesque in the development of the nineteenth century, that what needs a connection — microcosm and macrocosm — has been divided and torn apart. Had this not happened, all the misunderstandings associated with the names “theoretical materialism” on the one hand and “abstract idealism” on the other would not have arisen. Consider that the tearing apart of microcosm and macrocosm led people who paid little attention to the inner life of the soul to regard the inner life of the soul as part of the macrocosm, just like the outer physical body, and then to allow everything to dissolve into material processes. Others, who became aware that there is indeed an inner life, gradually fell into abstractions about everything that ultimately has meaning only for the human soul.
If one wants to be clear about this difficult matter, one must perhaps recall something very significant that people learned in the mysteries. Ask yourself how many people today believe in their innermost consciousness that when I think something—for example, a bad thought about my neighbor—it ultimately has no meaning for the outside world; the thought is only within me. It has a completely different meaning if I slap him in the face; that is an event on the physical plane; the other is merely a sensation or a thought. Or let us go further. How many people are there who, when they commit a sin, a lie, or an error, say: That is something that happens in the human soul — and in contrast, when a stone falls from the roof, for example: That is something that happens outside. It is easy to explain to people with a coarse understanding that when a stone falls from the roof, or perhaps accidentally falls into the water, waves are created in the water that continue to play and so on, so that all of this has effects that continue in secret; but what goes on in a person's soul is separate from everything else. That is why people have been able to believe that it is a matter of the soul, so to speak, to sin, to err, and to make amends for it. To such a consciousness, something that at least a large number of us have encountered in the last two years must seem grotesque. I would like to recall the scene in the Rosicrucian drama “The Gate of Initiation” where Capesius and Strader appear in the astral world and where it is shown how what they think, say, and feel is not meaningless for the objective world, for the macrocosm, but actually unleashes storms in the elements. It is really wonderful for people today to think that destructive forces also affect the macrocosm when someone has an incorrect thought. However, it was made very clear to people in the mysteries that when someone lies or makes mistakes, for example, this is a real process that is not just something that has to do with us. The German proverb even arose: “Thoughts are duty-free,” because you cannot see the customs barrier when thoughts dawn. But they then belong to the objective world; they are not merely events of the soul. The mystery student then saw that when you tell a lie, this means in the supersensible world that a certain light is darkened, and when you commit an unloving act, something is burned in the spiritual world by the fire of unlovingness; and with your errors you extinguish light from the macrocosm. That was the effect shown to the student through the objective event: how something is extinguished on the astral plane through error and darkness arises, or how an unloving act acts like a destructive and burning fire.
In exoteric life, human beings do not know what is going on around them. They are truly like ostriches, having to bury their heads in the sand because they do not see the effects that are nevertheless present. The effects of sensations are there, and they became visible to the supersensible eyes when, for example, people were led into the mysteries. But that is something that could only happen in the nineteenth century, when people said to themselves: Everything that man has sinned, everything that is weak in him, is only his personal affair; redemption must come through an event in the soul. Therefore, Christ can only be an inner event of the soul. What is necessary for human beings not only to find their way to Christ, but also to maintain their connection with the macrocosm, is the realization that when they commit errors and sins, these are objective, not subjective events, and that something happens in the world as a result. And at the moment when human beings become aware that something objective happens with their sin and their error, when they know that something they have done and given away is at work, something that is no longer connected with them but is connected with the whole objective course of world evolution, then, when they look at the whole course of world evolution, they will no longer be able to say that it is only an inner matter of the soul to make amends for what he has done. There would be a possibility that even has a good meaning: that one regards what brings and has brought people into error and weakness through successive earthly lives as an inner matter not of the individual life, but of karma. But there is no possibility that an event that is not historical and does not belong to humanity, as is the case with the Luciferic influence in the ancient Lemurian era, could be removed from the world through a human event! On the one hand, the Luciferic event brought great benefit to human beings in that they became free; but on the other hand, they had to accept that they could stray from the path of good and right, and also from the path of truth. What has happened in the course of incarnations is a matter of karma. But everything that has become embedded in the microcosm from the macrocosm, everything that the Luciferic forces have given to man, is something that man cannot cope with alone. To compensate for this, an objective act is needed. In short, human beings must feel that what they commit as error and sin is not merely subjective, that something more than a subjective act in the soul is needed to bring about redemption.Thus, those who are convinced of the objectivity of error will also immediately understand the objectivity of the act of redemption. One cannot present the Luciferic influence as an objective act without at the same time presenting the compensating act — the event of Golgotha. And as a theosophist, one basically has only two choices. One can base everything on karma; then, of course, one is absolutely right about everything that is brought about by human beings themselves; but then one is forced to extend repeated lives forward and backward in any way one likes, and there is no end to the forward and backward movement. It always goes round and round like the same wheel. On the other hand, the concrete idea of development — and this is the other thing — as we had to understand it: that there was a Saturn, a Sun, and a Moon existence, which are completely different from the Earth existence, that then in the Earth existence only that kind of repeated Earth life takes place as we know it, that then the Luciferic event was there as a unique event — all this gives real content to what we call theosophical insight. But all this is inconceivable without the objectivity of the event of Golgotha.
When we consider pre-Christian times, we see that — as already mentioned from another point of view — human beings were different in a certain respect. When they descended from the spiritual worlds into earthly incarnations, they brought with them a certain amount of the divine substantial element. This only dried up gradually as human beings advanced in their earthly incarnations, and had dried up by the time the events in Palestine approached. Therefore, in pre-Christian times, when people reflected on their own weakness, they always felt that the best that man has comes from the divine sphere from which man descended. They still felt the last after-effects of the divine element. But that dried up when John the Baptist said, “Change your view of the world, for the times have changed; now you will no longer be able to ascend to the spiritual as before, because it is no longer possible to look into the old spirituality. Change your minds and receive that divine essence which is to give back to people what they had to lose through their descent!” That is why—one may deny it if one wants to think abstractly, but one cannot deny it if one looks at external history with a real, concrete view—the whole feeling and perception of people was different at the turn of the old and new ages, the separation of which is represented by the events in Palestine. People began to feel abandoned after the events in Palestine. They began to feel abandoned when they approached the most difficult questions concerning the innermost, most concrete aspects of the soul, when they asked themselves, for example: What will become of me in the whole context of the universe when I pass through the gates of death with a number of unbalanced deeds? Then a thought came to these people, which could indeed have been born out of the longing of the soul, but which could only be satisfied when the human soul found the insight: Yes, there has lived a being who entered into human evolution, to whom you can hold fast, and who works in the outer world, where you cannot go, to balance your deeds; who helps you to make amends for what has been made bad by the Luciferic influences! — The feeling of abandonment and the feeling of security in an objective power entered into humanity; the feeling that sin is a real power, an objective fact. And the other thing that goes with this: that redemption is an objective fact, something that the individual cannot bring about, because he did not summon the Luciferic influence, but only he who works in the worlds where Lucifer consciously works. All this, which I have described in words taken from spiritual science, was not consciously present as concepts or knowledge, but lay in feelings and sensations; and the necessity of turning to Christ lived in those feelings and sensations. Then, of course, these people had the opportunity to find ways in Christian communities to deepen all such feelings and emotions. What did people ultimately find when they looked at matter outside themselves, having lost their original connection with the gods? As humans descended into matter, they increasingly lost sight of the spiritual, the physically divine in the greater world. The remnants of the old clairvoyance that still existed gradually disappeared, and nature was in a sense deified. A purely material world spread out before humans. And in the face of this material world, man could not maintain the belief that a Christ principle was objectively at work within it. What emerged in the nineteenth century, for example, was the idea that that the world, as it underlies our earth, emerged from the Kant-Laplace nebula, that life then arose on the individual planets, and what finally led to thinking of the whole world as an interaction of atoms, to thinking of Christ within this, to thinking Christ into the worldview of the materialistic natural philosopher, would indeed be madness. In contrast to this world picture, the Christ being cannot be upheld. In contrast to this world picture, nothing spiritual can be upheld at all. But we must understand that someone who says what I have read to you would have to cut through his entire world picture if he were to believe in the resurrection. This entire worldview, which has gradually emerged, only shows that, for the external observation of nature, in relation to thinking about external nature, the possibility has disappeared of thinking one's way into the living essence of natural facts. When I speak in this way, it is not meant as disparaging criticism. It had to happen that nature was once deified and de-spiritualized so that human beings could grasp the sum of abstract thoughts in order to understand external nature, as became possible in the Copernican, Keplerian, and Galilean views. Humanity had to grasp the fabric of thoughts that led to our machine age. But on the other hand, it was necessary for this age to have a substitute for what could not be present in exoteric life, a substitute for the fact that it had become impossible to find the way to the spiritual directly from the earth. For if it had been possible to find the way to the spiritual, one would have had to find the way to Christ as it will be found in the coming centuries. There had to be a substitute.The question now is: What was necessary for an exoteric path for human beings to Christ during the centuries in which a worldview gradually developed that was atomistic, that had to increasingly deify nature, and that grew into a deified view of nature in the nineteenth century?
Two things were necessary. The spiritual vision of Christ could be found exoterically in two ways. One was to show people that it is not true that all matter is completely foreign to the human inner being, to the spirit within. On the one hand, it had to be shown that it is not true that wherever matter appears in space, only matter exists. How could this be done? There was no other way than to convey to human beings something that is both spirit and matter, something they had to know was spirit and see was matter. This had to remain alive: the transformation, the eternally valid transformation of spirit into matter, of matter into spirit. And this has happened because the Lord's Supper has been preserved as a Christian institution throughout the centuries, because it has been cultivated. And the further back we go in time since the institution of the Lord's Supper, the more we feel how the older, less materialistic times understood the Lord's Supper better. For with higher things, it is usually the case that the fact that one begins to discuss them is proof that one no longer understands them. There are simply things where, as long as they are understood, there is little discussion about them, and where people begin to argue when they no longer understand them; as discussions are generally proof that the majority of those discussing the matter do not understand it. This was also the case with the Lord's Supper. As long as the Lord's Supper was known that it was the living proof that matter is not merely matter, but that there are ceremonial acts through which spirit can be added to matter, as long as people knew that this permeation of matter with spirit is a Christianization, as expressed in the Lord's Supper, it was accepted without dispute. But then came the time when materialism was already on the rise, when people no longer understood what lay at the basis of the Lord's Supper, when they argued whether bread and wine were mere symbols of the divine or whether divine power really flowed into them; in short, when all the disputes arose that arose at the beginning of the new era, but which, for those who see more deeply, mean nothing other that the original understanding of the matter had been lost. For people who wanted to come to Christ, the Lord's Supper was a complete substitute for the esoteric path if they could not follow it, so that they could find real union with Christ in the Lord's Supper. But all things have their time. Of course, just as it is true that a completely new age is dawning in relation to spiritual life, it is also true that the path to Christ, which was the right one for many centuries, will remain so for many centuries to come. Things gradually merge into one another, but what was right in the past will gradually transform into something else when people are ready for it. And this is what Theosophy should work towards: to grasp something concrete, something real in the spirit itself. Through meditation, concentration, and everything we learn as insights into higher worlds, people will become mature enough to live not merely in worlds of thoughts, not merely in abstract worlds of feelings and sensations, but to permeate themselves with the element of the spirit, they will experience communion in the spirit; through this, thoughts — as meditative thoughts — will be able to live in human beings, which will be the same thing, only from within, as the sign of the Last Supper — the consecrated bread — has been from without. And just as the undeveloped Christian was able to find his way to Christ through the Lord's Supper, so the developed Christian, who through advanced spiritual science comes to know the form of Christ, can rise in spirit to what will indeed become an exoteric path for human beings in the future. This will flow as the power that will bring an expansion of the Christ impulse to human beings. But then all ceremonies will also change, and what used to happen through the attributes of bread and wine will happen in the future through a spiritual communion. The idea of the Lord's Supper, of communion, will remain. It must simply be made possible that certain thoughts, which flow to us through the messages within the spiritual science movement, that certain inner thoughts, inner feelings, may penetrate and spiritualize the inner being just as solemnly as the Lord's Supper has spiritualized and Christified the human soul in the best sense of inner Christian development. When that becomes possible — and it will become possible — then we will have advanced another stage in our development. And this will once again provide real proof that Christianity is greater than its outer form. For anyone who believes that Christianity would be swept away if the outer form of Christianity at a particular time were swept away has a low opinion of Christianity. Only those who are imbued with the conviction that all churches that have cultivated the Christ idea, all external thoughts, all external forms are temporary and therefore transitory, but that the Christ idea will live on in ever new forms in the hearts and souls of people in the future, however little these new forms may already be apparent today, have the true opinion of Christianity. It is actually spiritual science that teaches us how the Last Supper had its meaning in earlier times on the exoteric path.
And the other exoteric path was that of the Gospels. And here we must again become aware of what the Gospels meant to people in earlier times. The time is not so far behind us when the Gospels were not read as they were in the nineteenth century; instead, they were read as a living source from which something substantial passed into the souls. They were not read as I explained in the first lecture of this cycle when discussing a false path, but rather in such a way that one saw from outside what the soul was longing for; that it found the real Redeemer, whom it knew must certainly exist in the universe.
For people who understood how to read the Gospels in this way, an infinite number of questions that only became questions for the clever, the very intelligent people of the nineteenth century had already been answered. One need only point out one thing: how many times has it been repeated in discussions of the questions surrounding Christ Jesus—in one form or another—by very clever people, who were brimming with scientific knowledge and erudition, that the idea of Christ Jesus and the events in Palestine are truly incompatible with the modern worldview! It is said in a seemingly quite plausible way: when people did not yet know that the earth is a very small world, they could believe that a new, special event had taken place on earth with the cross of Golgotha. But after Copernicus taught that the earth is a planet like any other, could one still assume that Christ had migrated to us from another planet? Why should one assume that the earth has such an exceptional position as had been believed? And then the image was used: since the worldview had expanded so much, it seemed as if one of the most important performances or representations of an artistic nature was taking place not on a large stage in a capital city, but on the small stage of some provincial theater. Because the Earth is such a tiny world, the events in Palestine appeared to people like the performance of a great drama of world history on the stage of a small provincial theater. And one could never imagine that, because the Earth is so small compared to the big world! It sounds so clever when something like that is said, but there is not much cleverness in it. For Christianity has never claimed what is apparently refuted here. Christianity did not even place the emergence of the Christ impulse in the glorious places of earthly existence, but always saw a certain great seriousness in allowing the bearer of Christ to be born in a stable among poor shepherds. Not only the small earth, but the place that is completely hidden on earth was chosen in the Christian “tradition” to place Christ. The questions of very intelligent people have already been answered in Christianity; it is just that the answers given by Christianity itself have not been understood, because it was no longer possible to allow the living power of the great majestic images to work on the soul.
Nevertheless, in the Gospel images alone, without the Last Supper and everything connected with it — for that is at the center of the whole Christian and other cults — the exoteric path of human beings to Christ could not have been found; for the Gospels could not have become popular to the degree that they did if they alone had been the means of making the path to Christ popular. And when the Gospels became popular, it became apparent that this did not lead to much inner blessing. For with the popularization of the Gospels arose at the same time the great misunderstanding: the trivialization and then all that the nineteenth century made of the Gospels, which, objectively speaking, is bad enough that it happened. I think anthroposophists can understand what it means to say “bad enough”; that this is not meant as a criticism, nor does it disparage the diligence that nineteenth-century research brought to bear on scientific work, including all natural science. But that is precisely the tragedy: that this science — and anyone who knows it will admit this — precisely because of its profound seriousness and its tremendous dedication, which one can only admire, has led to the complete fragmentation and destruction of what it wanted to teach. And the future development of humanity will regard this as a particularly tragic cultural event of our age, that one has sought to conquer the Bible scientifically through an infinitely admirable science, and that this has led to the loss of the Bible.So we see that, in relation to the exoteric, we are living in a transitional age in these two directions, and that we must lead the old ways over into new ones, insofar as we have grasped the spirit of theosophy. And after we have thus considered the past exoteric paths to the Christ impulse, we will see tomorrow how the relationship to Christ is formed in the esoteric realm — and we will bring our considerations to a conclusion, which will consist in our being able to grasp the Christ event, not only for the whole of human evolution, but for each individual human being. With this consideration, we will bring to a close the path we have taken in this cycle. We will be able to consider the esoteric path more briefly, because we have already laid the building blocks for it in the past years. And so we will bring about the crowning glory of our edifice by considering the relationship of the Christ impulse to each individual human soul.