Man in the Light of Occultism, Theosophy and Philosophy
GA 137
6 June 1912, Oslo
Lecture IV
My dear Friends,
We have now to give our consideration to the third experience in the super-sensible world,—the consciousness that holds sway there. But before we can do so, we must first take cognisance of something which everyone possesses but which not everyone takes the trouble to observe, namely, the ordinary consciousness of this world, the consciousness which is centred in the fact that man becomes aware of his ego, becomes aware of himself as a self-existent being having knowledge of the objects and beings around him.
This consciousness is an element in our life which we have to examine with particular care and accuracy, when we are considering occultism. For it is true to say that this consciousness, which we may call an ego-consciousness, is for the occultist that element in his life which he is in the greatest danger of losing when he passes over into the super-sensible worlds. A man who wants to penetrate into super-sensible worlds has to exercise extreme caution on this account, since the loss of this ego-consciousness, the cessation and suppression of it, is as dangerous as it is necessary! Here, you see, we have come again to a contradiction, but I have already told you how inevitable contradictions are in this realm.
If you will reflect a little upon the ego-consciousness, you will see that it is really the ground of your existence in yourself through the fact that you have an ego-consciousness, you are in your soul self-contained. When you are not using your senses, then, except when you are asleep, you must always be as it were together with yourself in your consciousness. The consciousness only sinks down into darkness when you fall asleep.
Now it does not require much thought to perceive that what we are accustomed to call the Divine, or the One and undivided Foundation of the Worlds, cannot be counted as forming part of this consciousness, for man loses this consciousness every evening when he goes to sleep and finds content of it again every morning. Everything he has in it in the evening when he falls asleep remains, and he is able on awakening to take up again the threads of his inner life where he dropped them when he fell asleep. It has all stayed as it was; only, man has had no knowledge of himself while he slept. The one Divine Ground of the World that maintains everything must, therefore, maintain also man's consciousness while he sleeps It must keep watch over man's nature, both when he wakes and when he sleeps.
From this it will be evident that man must necessarily think of the Divine Ground of the Worlds as outside the Earth consciousness within which he himself stands. Consequently man cannot by means of his own consciousness have any knowledge whatsoever of the Ground of the Worlds, This has naturally always meant that since with ordinary Earth consciousness man is unable to approach by his own efforts the things that belong to the Foundation of the Worlds, these things have had to come to him by means of what is called “revelation.” Revelations, and particularly the revelations of religion, have always been given to man, for the simple reason that he cannot find them within his own consciousness, in so far as it is the Earth consciousness. If he wants to establish a relationship with the Ground of the Worlds, if he wants to inform himself about the nature and being of the original Ground and Foundation of existence, he must receive a revelation. And revelation has come, as we know, again and again, throughout the evolution of mankind. When we look back into ancient pre-Christian times, we find many great religious teachers,—such, for example, as were called in the language of Buddha, Bodhisattvas; other peoples knew them by other names. These great teachers came among men and communicated to them what men were unable to discover by means of their Earth consciousness.
The question may here be asked: how did these religious teachers obtain knowledge of the things that lie behind human consciousness? You know very well that there has always been in the world what we call “initiation,” and all great religious teachers have had either to undergo initiation, that is to say, ultimately to ascend for themselves an occult path, or to receive teaching from initiates who have ascended the occult path and have come to a comprehension of the Divine, not with their Earth consciousness but with a consciousness that has gone beyond the Earth consciousness.
This was the origin of the religions of olden times. All the communications and revelations that men received in pre-Christian times from great teachers of mankind go back ultimately to such founders of religion,—initiates who had themselves experienced in super-physical conditions what they communicated to mankind. And in consequence the relationship of a religious man to his God is always of such a kind that he conceives of his God as a Being outside his world, a Being who is beyond and of whom he can by special means receive a revelation.
Unless man lifts himself up to initiation, he must necessarily maintain this attitude. He must feel himself to be standing here on Earth, surveying with his consciousness the things of Earth, and receiving from the founders of religion knowledge of the things that are outside the world of the senses and outside the world of the understanding, in a word, outside the world of human consciousness. This is how it has been with all religions, and in a certain respect we may say it is so still. We know, for example, that Buddhism is to be traced back to the great founder Buddha. And whenever the foundation of Buddhism is spoken of, it is always expressly stated that the Buddha attained to initiation and higher vision while under the Bodhi tree, which is only a particular way of expressing the fact that in the twenty-ninth year of his life he became able to look into the spiritual world and to reveal what he saw and learned.
What exactly is revealed is not for us of very great importance. It varied in accordance with man's need and capacity to receive. Take, for example, ancient Greece. In so far as ancient Greece received its religious ideas through the teaching of Pythagoras, we find again here the consciousness that Pythagoras has undergone an initiation and has consequently been able to bring down from spiritual worlds and incorporate into human consciousness what he saw to be right and necessary for the men who were on Earth at that time.
Such then is the relation of the religious man to the spiritual world; nor can we imagine it otherwise. Man and the divine world stand over against one another. Whether in that world man beholds a plurality of Beings or a unity, whether polytheism or monotheism is taught, need not concern us here. The important point is that man finds himself standing over against the divine world, which must be revealed to him.
This is also the reason why theology has made such a point of not allowing place in religious ideas for knowledge man acquires by himself. Such knowledge could only have been attained by undergoing inner development and rising into the spiritual worlds. It would thus imply a penetration into regions which theology—not religion as such, but theology—is most anxious to exclude from having any influence upon the religious conceptions of mankind. Hence the care that is taken in theology to warn man of two wrong paths that are to be avoided. One is the path that leads to theosophy, where man seeks to develop himself upward to his God, when he should only stand over against his God as a man, and the other, so say the theologians, is the path of mysticism,—although theologians themselves not infrequently make little detours into the regions both of theosophy and of mysticism. But religious people, people who are purely and simply religious, are to be distinguished not only from theosophists, but also from mystics; for the mystic too is quite different from the religious man. The religious man is essentially one who stands here on the Earth and establishes a relationship with a God who is outside his consciousness.
Now there are, as you know, other things in the soul of man besides what we have already touched on today. There is in the soul of man the life of thought, that makes use of the instrument of the brain. Inasmuch as man has his ordinary consciousness, he has of course also his brain and his world of thought. Consciousness cannot be there without them. Playing into what we may call human consciousness, we have the thoughts, the experiences man has when he makes use of the instrument of the brain. Religions have consequently always contained thoughts that employ the instrument of the brain, since one who is a revealer, a founder of a religion, can clothe the divine revelations in forms men will understand by making use of the instrument of the brain. Religion can however also be clothed in ideas which make use rather of the instrument of the heart. Any particular religion, therefore, may speak either more to the brain or more to the heart of man. If we make comparison between the various religions of the world, we find that some speak more to the understanding, to those experiences of man which are connected with the brain, while others speak rather to the ideas and feelings of the heart, appeal to the life of inner perception and feeling. This difference can readily be observed in the several religions. All religions have, however, this characteristic in common, that man maintains intact his ego-consciousness, he remains conscious as man. Here on Earth works the ego-consciousness, and upon it from without works what belongs to the nature of the divine super-sensible world.
All this is changed when a man becomes a mystic. For when a man becomes a mystic, then everything connected with ordinary Earth consciousness is thrown to the winds. What is so carefully guarded in religion, so long as it remains religion pure and simple,—namely, that a man stands on his own feet and confronts the divine world in full consciousness—breaks down in mysticism. Mystics, pre-Christian as well as Christian, have always done their best to break down the human consciousness. Their concern has ever been to take the upward path into the super-sensible worlds, that is to say, to come right out of ordinary human Earth consciousness, to transcend it. That is the characteristic of mysticism. It sets out to overcome ordinary consciousness and live its way into a state where self-forgetfulness supervenes. And then, if the mystic can come so far, self-forgetfulness passes on to self-annihilation, self-extinction. Essentially mystical states, raptures, ecstasies have all of them this end in view, to do away with the limitations of Earth consciousness, to grow out beyond them into a higher consciousness.
It is difficult to form a conception of the nature of mysticism because it shows itself in so many different forms. It will be good if at this point we consider some individual examples.
We will imagine that a mystic, in accordance with what I have just explained to you, feels called upon to suppress his ordinary ego-consciousness, to break it down and get beyond it. He will still have left of course the other experiences of the soul, the experiences man has by the use of the brain and the heart. The mystic tries to extinguish his consciousness, but he does not necessarily at the same time extinguish as well the experiences of brain and heart. The way opens here, as you see, for many different shades of mysticism. Let us consider what varieties are possible.
A mystic can have experiences of brain and of heart, while consciousness is extinguished. Then we can say of him that he goes out of himself in ecstasy, but that we recognise from the thoughts and feelings he still has that he has not obliterated what is thought and felt by the use of brain and heart. To discover mystics who can truthfully be reckoned in this category we have to go rather far back in history. We may find them among those who, after the founding of Christianity, endeavoured to rise to the divine Self with the help of the philosophy of Plato,—Neo-Platonists, that is, such as Iamblichus and Plotinus. In this class too, belongs Scotus Erigena, and if one does not hold too strictly to the definition but admits a mystic in whom the brain experiences outweigh the experiences of the heart, then we may include also Master Eckhart, These will then form class A; mystics who still admit experiences of brain and heart.
A second kind of mystic is one who shuts out not his consciousness alone, but in addition his brain experiences, retaining only the ideas and conceptions that are acquired by use of the instrument of the heart. We generally find that mystics of this order have no love for anything that is thought out. They want to exclude thought altogether as well as consciousness. What the heart can achieve,—that is all they will allow themselves to use for their development. Such mystics, although their endeavour is to overcome human consciousness, to go out beyond it in ecstasy, retain nevertheless a connection with their fellows through the fact that they base their relationship with the surrounding world on the experiences of the heart.
Picture to yourselves a mystic of this type,—an ecstatic whose desire and aim is to come out of himself, who loves to be in a state where he is entirely free from himself! Such a mystic will at once reject anything you set out to communicate to him which requires him to use his brain. He will have nothing to do with it. Whether what you have to say concerns the higher worlds or the world of external nature, it makes no difference; he will in either case reply that there is no need to know all that.
A mystic who is in this way connected with his surroundings through the heart alone is able to be of good service to mankind. But since all the experiences of the human soul he lets speak only the experiences of the heart, he will not find easily accessible the complicated ideas that are acquired on the path of occultism; to receive these one does need to do at any rate a little thinking!
It was a mystic of this kind who, when asked whether he would not like to have a Book of Psalms—for he never read the Holy Scriptures—made answer: “If a man once uses a Book of Psalms, he will very soon want a bigger book, and there is no telling what more he will want when he begins to desire after knowledge in the form of thoughts.” The same mystic had no wish to have thoughts even about Nature. He used to say: “Man can know nothing he does not know already.” With this gesture he put all knowledge from him. Here then was a mystic with experiences of the heart alone, belonging to our second category,—class B.
Now in the case of such a mystic you will find there is a kind of economy of his soul forces In so far as he makes no use of his understanding and his power of thought, to that extent his soul forces are, as it were, husbanded. Consciousness also he puts out of use. All this has an interesting result. For when he is in his ecstatic states, with human Earth consciousness shut off, then because he still perceives around him whatever he can see with his eyes and hear with his ears and so on, and yet does not want to comprehend his surroundings, not thinking there is any necessity so to do, such a mystic will have great forces to spare which enable him to feel in the surrounding Nature all the more.
As mystic, one can protect oneself entirely from theology; but Nature surrounds all mystics. A mystic of this kind however will have nothing to do with any knowledge even about Nature. In this way he saves up the forces he would otherwise use in reflecting upon Nature in thought. He rejects all study of the Science of Nature. But the forces of the heart,—these he uses, and they will be able to develop all the more strongly. He will feel through the instrument of the heart all that the Being of Nature can say to him, and he will feel it more powerfully than a man who uses up his soul forces for his intellect and self-consciousness. Consequently we shall expect to find in a mystic of this type a feeling for Nature that is very positive and very concrete. Such a one did in time past clothe his feeling for Nature in the following words, which I will here read to you, that you may see how, for a mystic of this type, life itself becomes a feeling for Nature.
“Oh, Most High, Almighty, Good Lord God, to Thee
belong praise, glory, honour and all blessing.
Praised be my Lord God! and with all His creatures, and
especially our brother the Sun, who brings us the
day and who brings us the light: fair is he, and he
shines with a very great splendour.
O Lord he signifies to us Thee!
Praised be my Lord for our sister the Moon, and for
the Stars, the which He has set clear and lovely in
the heaven.
Praised be my Lord for our brother the wind, and for
air and clouds, calms and all weather, by which
Thou upholdest life and all creatures.
Praised be my Lord for our sister water, who is very
serviceable to us, and humble and precious and clean.
Praised be my Lord for our brother fire, through whom
Thou givest us light in the darkness; and he is
bright and pleasant and very mighty and strong.
Praised be my Lord for our mother the earth, the
which doth sustain us and keep us, and bringeth
forth divers fruits and flowers of many colours, and grass.”
We have here, as you see, a complete exodus of the soul from self-consciousness, a kind of intoxication of the heart. All is feeling. The poem is saturated with something that the eye cannot perceive (for the writer is a mystic) but the soul can feel. Observe however, it is what the soul feels when it does not yet go so far as to enter into the experience of the Divine in Nature. When this also becomes a part of the experience of the soul, then there can arise that feeling for Nature which is so beautifully expressed by Goethe in his Faust:
“Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all
For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain
Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire.
Thou gav'st me Nature as a kingdom grand,
With power to feel and to enjoy it.
Thou Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st,
But grantest, that in her profoundest breast
I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend.
The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead
Before me, teaching me to know my brothers
In air and water and the silent wood.”1From Bayard Taylor's Translation.
Here we have an echo of the same feeling, and its mystery has been solved. When we look at the figure of Faust, we can see how this experience becomes a part of his soul life.
To return to the hymn quoted above. It is the hymn of a mystic in whom this one aspect of human experience overshadows all others. He stands in such intimate relation to Nature that the Sun is his brother and the Moon his sister; the water too, he calls sister, the fire, brother, and the Earth herself his mother. This is how he feels the spiritual in Nature. You have here a mystic who comes right out beyond ordinary human consciousness, but at the same time retains all those experiences of the soul which are acquired through the instrumentality of the heart. He is a mystic whom you all know well,—Francis of Assisi.
In Saint Francis of Assisi we have a striking example of a mystic of whom we can actually assert that for this one incarnation he rejected all theology and all knowledge whatsoever, even of super-sensible things. On the other hand we find that on this very account he was able to live in extraordinary intimacy with the spirit of Nature. This was indeed an outstanding feature of his life.
In Saint Francis we have no mere vague pantheism of the spirit,—which has always a trace of affectation about it. He does not just sing rapturously of a universal Spirit in Nature; he sings of definite positive feelings that fill his soul when he encounters the beings of Nature,—filial, sisterly, brotherly feelings.
We must now pass on to a third class of mystics, class C. These are mystics who set out to experience ecstasy—that is to say, the loss or the darkening of self-consciousness—and under certain conditions to shut out also the experiences of the soul which make use of the heart, while on the other hand retaining thoughts, or experiences, of the brain. Such men are often not described in ordinary language as mystics at all, since it is generally expected of a mystic that his experiences shall be permeated with feeling. And it is easy to see why. Think of a man who has driven out of his soul-experiences all his personal self-consciousness. This will mean that there is absent in him the very thing that most people find interesting in their fellowmen,—namely, personality. People are interested in each other on account of their personality. Now experiences of the heart have still so much of the personal about them—for example, in Saint Francis of Assisi,—they exercise still such a compelling influence upon what is human in us, that we are kept awake in our consciousness and we go with such a person with interest,—though not, it is true, so readily with our will. And that is also quite right for ordinary life, especially in the present day; we cannot all be like Saint Francis of Assisi! The universality of the heart, when it manifests as it did in Saint Francis, has a powerful influence upon people, even when the essentially personal element is dulled and darkened. This suppression and extinction of consciousness leads on the one hand, in a mystic like Saint Francis, as you know, to a kind of radicalism in life, and on the other hand it restrains people from imitating him even when their interest is aroused. For as a general rule people are not at all anxious to come out of their consciousness, they are afraid they will lose the ground from under their feet.
But now consider how it might be with a mystic who shuts out all personal consciousness and in addition all experiences of the heart. Such a mystic would give to men nothing but pure thoughts,—thoughts and ideas that make use of the brain alone. No one will easily be able to carry on his life in such a condition. A man may be a Saint Francis as much as he likes, for the experiences of the heart can be helpful to mankind in general. But a mystic who suppresses not only his personal ego-consciousness but also his heart experiences and lives in thoughts alone—thoughts that are bound to the brain—will find it necessary to limit his devotion to this path to particular solemn moments of his life. For life always calls one back, again and again, to the personal element on Earth, and anyone who lived in thoughts alone and used only his brain would not be able to perform any ordinary Earth activity. He can, therefore, only occupy himself in this way for quite short periods; no one can ever use the brain exclusively for more than moments at a time. And as for his fellowmen, and his relation to them, they will simply not concern themselves with him, but will all run away from him! For what interests people most of all is personal experiences; and these he suppresses. And the heart experiences, which work so powerfully upon people, these too he renounces. The consequence is, people will steer clear of him altogether, they will not have the least desire to approach him.
The philosopher Hegel is a mystic of this kind in the true sense of the word. What he gives in his philosophy is expressly intended to exclude every personal point of view and also in addition all experiences of the heart. It sets out to be pure contemplation in thought, and we may accordingly take Hegel as an eminent example of a mystic with brain experiences alone. Such a man leads us up into the purest ether heights of thought. Whereas in ordinary life man is accustomed only to have thoughts that are rooted and grounded in personal interest and in self-consciousness, these are the very thoughts that in a philosophical mystic of this kind are forbidden. And he excludes also what makes the spiritual attractive and desirable, namely, its interplay with the experiences of the heart. He devotes himself in majestic resignation to following the course of the experiences of the brain and these alone. Of all that the human soul can experience, there remain to him only thoughts.
This is the very thing of which so many people complain in Hegel; there is nothing to recall the experiences of the heart, everything is put forward solely and entirely in thought pictures. Most people feel they are left desolate and chill, when they find what they themselves love with their heart crystallised out in cold thought. And the consciousness of self, wherein personality is rooted and whereby man stands fast in earth life,—Hegel has it only as a thought. Of course he devotes consideration to the ego, because it is for him the thought of a particularly important experience. This he does. But it remains no more than a thought picture; for him, human personality is not fired with that living and direct quality which springs from self-consciousness.
We have still one more possible kind of mystic. It would be a mystic who shut out all three,—Earth-consciousness, heart experiences, brain experiences. We would then have as class D, mystics who obliterate all Earth experiences of the soul. You can well imagine, such a thing is extraordinarily difficult to accomplish. For an occultist, it is quite a matter of course; we shall go into that more deeply in the coming lectures. An occultist rises to states where he silences all that is connected with the brain as well as with the heart, in so far as these are composed of Earth forces and in so far as they make use of consciousness. A practical occultist who ascends into higher worlds will regard this step as obvious. But at this point the occultist begins to live and experience in the super-sensible world, and during the time that he is shut off from everything in connection with the world that surrounds man on Earth he has around him the higher world. He steps out of [one] thing into another. A mystic on the other hand who shuts out all these three experiences that make use of the instruments of Earth, would enter into nothing that can fill his consciousness. He does not, of course, step into nothingness, for outside our consciousness is, as we know, the divine spiritual super-sensible world. But he does not enter this world as the occultist does, to whom is then revealed the unspoken word and the super-sensible light; no, he suppresses his consciousness, he suppresses all the powers that are in him, and only feels at last, after suppressing all these human experiences, a sense of being united with something, of being within something.
There begins for him an experience that has the impression, after the extinction of consciousness and all Earth experiences, of a marriage with something that is felt and perceived in a kind of intoxication. The mystic unites himself with it in rapture and ecstasy, but he cannot make any communication about it, because it is not experienced in any definite way, he has no concrete impressions of which he can tell.
We shall see, when we go on to speak further of occultism, into what desperate situation a man would come who eradicated all three kinds of experience—experiences of heart and brain and consciousness. He would become a mystic who underwent the so-called mystic union, but was, in the ecstasy, just like a man asleep, united with the Divine in sleep and knowing nothing of it, not even having a feeling that he has been united with the Divine. If the mystic is to retain any degree of living feeling for his union with the Divine he must at any rate wipe out these several personal experiences in succession.
Now, we have an example of such a mystic, a person who actually trod this path and in her writings even went so far as to recommend it to others. First, she strove with all her powers to overcome personal self-consciousness, to suppress it and extinguish it altogether. There were then left still active within her the powers of the heart and of the intellect. The next step was the conquest of the power of the understanding. Last of all, she overcame the powers of the heart. The fact that the powers of the heart remained with her longest accounts for the extraordinary force and intensity with which she experienced the entry into the world that lies beyond consciousness. The three things were overcome in this order; first the consciousness, then the brain experiences, and last of all the experiences of the heart.
It is characteristic that the one who accomplished this feat with remarkable order and regularity was a woman. As you know, these things must be looked at quite objectively; and when speaking with theosophists I need have no fear of being misunderstood when I say that this path comes easier to a woman. For, as we shall come to understand also from other connections, it is a peculiarity of woman's nature that it is less difficult for her to conquer herself, that is to say, to conquer all her soul experiences. The woman whose experience of mysticism followed the path we have described—extinguishing and eliminating one after the other the experiences connected with brain and with heart, and then experiencing a union with the Divine Spirit which was like a marriage, like an embrace—was Saint Theresa.
If you will study the life of Saint Theresa in the light of our considerations today, you will be prepared to admit that it can only be in very exceptional cases that a mystic comes through on this path. It will much more usually happen that the several soul experiences are not overcome in such utter purity and power as was the case with Saint Theresa, but are only partially conquered, so that some portion of them remains.
This gives us, in fact, three more kinds of mystics. We have those who mean to overcome all soul experiences, but in whom the experiences bound to the brain remain unextinguished. Such mystics are as a rule persons who may be described as wise and practical in the best sense of the word, who know their way about in life, because they make good use of their brain, and who, having to a large extent suppressed the personal element, are in their impersonal character sympathetically received by their fellowmen.
Then there are mystics who also try to overcome all their soul experiences, but have only partial success with those of the heart. Mark well the difference between a mystic of this kind and a mystic like Saint Francis of Assisi. Saint Francis of Assisi made no attempt to overcome the experiences of the heart; on the contrary he retained them in full, and the consequence was, he retained them in perfect health. That is what is so grand and majestic about Francis of Assisi; he enlarged his heart to cover his whole soul. I am not speaking of mystics of this kind, who do not endeavour to overcome the experiences of the heart. I am speaking of mystics who make great endeavours, who wrestle with all their might in this direction, but do not succeed.
In the case of these mystics we do not find that same wonderful kind of marriage with the super-sensible and spiritual which we meet with in Saint Theresa. When a mystic has striven to get free of all that is personal and human and earthly and has nevertheless still retained in conspicuous measure the experiences connected with the heart, then something very much of the nature of human limitations interferes in his striving. And it can actually come about that this marriage, this embrace of the Divine and spiritual, becomes very like the feelings and instincts of human love in ordinary life.
Mystics of this kind abound who, so to speak, love their God and their divine world in the same way as man loves in human life. Look through the histories of the saints and the accounts of monks and nuns, and you will find a great number of this type of mystic. They are “in love” with the Madonna with an altogether human passion. She is for them a substitute for a human wife. Or again, you find nuns who are in love with the Christ as their Bridegroom, they have for Him all the feelings of earthly human love. We have here reached a chapter that is very interesting from a psychological point of view—perhaps more interesting than attractive,—religious mystics who strove after what we have described but were not able to reach it because human nature held them back.
We find mystics—such, for example, as Saint Hildegard—who have good and beautiful impulses but who have also a considerable measure of ordinary earthly instinct and desire, and this taints their mystical feelings and perceptions. They come to an experience that is very like an erotic experience, they come into a kind of mystic eroticism, as you will find if you study the history of the mystics. The outpourings of their heart speak of the “Bride of their soul,” or of their passionate love for the “Bridegroom Jesus,” and so on.
We are the more ready to bear with mystics of this kind, if they have preserved quite a good bit of ordinary human consciousness, and are able as it were to stand aside in their human personality and look on at their own mystical experience. For, as they do this and see that they have not really won the victory but have still something very human left in them, a trace of humour and irony will often enter their consciousness. This gives a personal touch to the whole thing, and we do not dislike them so much; we even begin to feel a sympathetic interest in their unattained conquest of the experiences of the heart. Otherwise it repels one; the whole thing savours of pretence and hypocrisy. For the mystic sets out to compensate for the failure to overcome what lives in ordinary human impulses and instincts in a roundabout way, by asceticism.
If, however, this trait of humour and irony is present, if the person in question has moments when he uses his ordinary human consciousness, turns round on himself and tells himself the truth from the ordinary human standpoint, interspersing in this way his mystical moments with moments when he tells himself the hard plain truth, then we can feel a certain sympathy with him—as we do, for example, when we study such a mystic as Mechthild of Magdeburg.
For there is this difference between Mechthild of Magdeburg and mystics who are like her in other respects, that while she too manifests erotic passion for the Divine and Spiritual, and speaks of her Divine Lover in the same terms as men speak of human love, she expresses herself always with a certain touch of humour. She does not use high-flown language, but speaks in such a way that we can always detect a trace of irony in her words. The difference is very marked between such a mystic as Hildegard who has also not succeeded in overcoming the human personal consciousness, and Mechthild of Magdeburg, who feels herself passionately moved as she comes to the boundary of the Divine, but expresses herself with honest truthfulness and does not call that which still contains erotic passion of the heart by the specious name of “religious rapture,” but calls it quite plainly “religious love,” and speaks constantly of her Lover, her divine Bridegroom.
As you see, there are all manner of shades of mysticism! And even now, we have not so much as touched upon the ancient Greek mysticism which you will find described in my book Christianity as Mystical Fact. We shall have to speak of that later. One thing you will have been able to learn from the kinds of mysticism we have studied today; namely, that the endeavour of all mystics is to make their way out beyond ordinary personal ego-consciousness, to eliminate this consciousness, but that in reality, if man is not then to lose the ground from under his feet, another consciousness must emerge. It is of the nature of mysticism to come to the boundary of the spiritual, to experience the Divine and Spiritual like a kind of marriage, but not to enter into the world of the Divine and Spiritual. The mystic divests himself of the consciousness that requires an external object. His endeavour is to rid himself entirely of this consciousness. What the mystic wants is to go out beyond himself. If however a man wants then to experience consciously the unspoken word and the unmanifest light he must obviously experience them in a new and different consciousness. In other words, if the mystic wants to become an occultist, he must not merely undertake the negative striving, but must centre his attention also on the development of a new and higher consciousness, namely, the consciousness without an object of knowledge. We will speak further tomorrow about this higher consciousness into which the occultist has to enter.
Vierter Vortrag
Wir müssen uns jetzt etwas näher zu dem dritten Erlebnisse der übersinnlichen Welt wenden, zu dem in der übersinnlichen Welt herrschenden Bewußtsein. Nun müssen wir, wenn wir eine Betrachtung anstellen wollen über das Bewußtsein ohne Gegenstand in der übersinnlichen Welt, zuerst einmal etwas kennenlernen, was ja jeder Mensch zunächst hat, was aber gewöhnlich nicht jeder Mensch ordentlich beobachtet, nämlich das gewöhnliche Bewußtsein in dieser Welt hier, dasjenige Bewußtsein, welches beim Menschen innerlich zusammengefaßt wird dadurch, daß der Mensch sein Ich gewahr wird; gewahr wird, daß er ein für sich bestehendes, von den anderen Gegenständen und Wesen um ihn herum wissendes Wesen ist.
Dieses Bewußtsein ist nun das Element unseres Lebens, das wir, der okkulten Beobachtung gegenüber, uns ganz besonders genau ansehen müssen. Denn man darf wohl sagen, dieses Bewußtsein, oder man könnte auch sagen, dieses Ich-Bewußtsein des Menschen ist für den Okkultisten dasjenige Lebenselement, welches beim Übergehen in die übersinnlichen Welten am meisten droht verloren zu gehen und auf welches der Mensch, der in diese übersinnlichen Welten eindringen will, auch ganz besonders achtgeben muß. Die besondere Achtsamkeit auf das gewöhnliche, alltägliche Bewußtsein, sagen wir auf das Erdenbewußtsein — hier komme ich schon wieder auf einen gewissen Widerspruch, aber die Notwendigkeit, Widersprüche hinzunehmen, wurde ja schon betont -, ist deshalb beim okkulten Wege so notwendig, weil der Verlust dieses Bewußtseins, das Aufgeben und Überwinden dieses Bewußtseins ebenso notwendig wie gefährlich ist. Also, sowohl eine Gefahr liegt hier vor, wie eine Notwendigkeit.
Wenn Sie sich nun ein wenig überlegen, wie es mit diesem Ich-Bewußtsein beschaffen ist, dann werden Sie sich sagen müssen: Dieses Bewußtsein ist ja eigentlich dasjenige, wodurch Sie seelisch in sich selber sind, wodurch Sie sich in sich selber seelisch abschließen. Wenn Sie Ihre Sinne nicht gebrauchen, so haben Sie noch immer, zunächst in nicht schlafendem Zustande, die Möglichkeit, mit sich selber zu sein in Ihrem Bewußtsein. In die Finsternis hinuntergetaucht wird dieses Bewußtsein erst, wenn der Mensch in Schlaf versinkt.
Nun werden Sie nicht viel nachzudenken brauchen, um sich zu sagen: Dasjenige, was der Mensch gewohnt ist, das Göttliche oder den einheitlichen Grund der Welt zu nennen, darf zunächst in dieses Bewußtsein, das der Mensch jeden Abend beim Einschlafen verliert, nicht eigentlich hineingerechnet werden. Denn der Mensch findet jeden Morgen den Inhalt seines Bewußtseins wieder; es ist alles, was er am Abend beim Einschlafen gehabt hat, geblieben, und er kann sozusagen wiederum den Faden des inneren, seelischen Lebens beim Aufwachen dort aufnehmen, wo er ihn abgeschnitten hat beim Einschlafen. Es ist also alles, vom Einschlafen bis zum Aufwachen, geblieben; nur hat der Mensch von sich selber nichts gewußt, während er geschlafen hat. Der einheitliche göttliche Weltengrund, der alles erhält, muß also auch sein Bewußtsein erhalten haben; er muß also völlig unabhängig sein von des Menschen Schlafzustand, muß gleichsam wachen über die menschliche Natur, wenn der Mensch wacht und auch, wenn er schläft.
Daraus ersehen Sie, daß der Mensch jedenfalls, wenn er in diesem Erdenbewußtsein steht, den göttlichen Weltengrund außerhalb dieses Erdenbewußtseins denken muß. Und dieses Denken des Weltengrundes außerhalb des Erdenbewußtseins macht notwendig, daß der Mensch durch sein eigenes Bewußtsein, also durch dieses Bewußtsein, welches sein Ich in sich schließt, von dem Weltengrunde zunächst überhaupt nichts wissen kann. Dieser Umstand hat selbstverständlich auch immer bewirkt, daß es notwendig war, daß zu dem gewöhnlichen Erdenbewußtsein die Dinge vom Weltengrund nicht durch eine Anstrengung dieses Erdenbewußtseins gekommen sind, sondern durch das, was man Offenbarung nennt. Die Offenbarungen, insbesondere die religiösen Offenbarungen, sind immer dem Menschen gegeben worden aus dem einfachen Grunde, weil er sie innerhalb des eigenen Bewußtseins, insofern dieses Bewußtsein das Erdenbewußtsein ist, nicht finden kann. Daher muß der Mensch, wenn er zu dem Urgrunde ein Verhältnis gewinnen will, sich über das Wesen dieses Urgrundes aufklären lassen, eine Offenbarung empfangen. Das ist ja auch immer geschehen in der ganzen Entwickelung der Menschheit. Wenn wir in die alten vorchristlichen Zeiten zurückschauen, so haben wir die verschiedenen großen religiösen Lehrer, die zum Beispiel in der Buddhasprache die Bodhisattvas genannt, von den anderen Völkern aber in anderer Weise bezeichnet werden. Diese haben sich sozusagen unter die Menschen hineingestellt und ihnen dasjenige mitgeteilt, was sie durch ihr Erdenbewußtsein nicht haben erringen können.
Woher, so können Sie nun fragen, haben diese religiösen Lehrer ein Wissen von den Dingen gehabt, die hinter dem menschlichen Bewußstsein liegen? Sie wissen ja aus den mancherlei Vorträgen und theosophischen Mitteilungen, daß es eine Initiation gegeben hat, die sogenannte Einweihung, und daß alle die großen Religionslehrer zuletzt sich selber haben einweihen lassen müssen, das heißt, zuletzt haben aufsteigen müssen zu einem gewissen okkulten Weg, oder daß sie sich haben belehren lassen müssen von anderen Initiierten, welche zu dem okkulten Wege aufgestiegen waren, also von solchen, welche nicht mit ihrem Erdenbewußtsein das Göttliche ergriffen haben, sondern mit dem Bewußtsein, das sich außerhalb des Erdenbewußstseins gestellt hat.
Daher kommen die alten Religionen. Alle Mitteilungen und Offenbarungen, die die Völker in vorchristlichen Zeiten erhalten haben von großen Menschheitslehrern, führen zuletzt zurück auf solche Stifter der großen Religionen, welche Initiierte, welche Eingeweihte waren, welche das, was sie der Menschheit mitteilten, in überphysischen Zuständen erfahren hatten,
Und daher blieben auch die Verhältnisse des religiösen Menschen zu seinem Gotte immer so, daß sich der Mensch seinen Gott als ein Wesen außerhalb seiner Welt vorstellte, als ein jenseitiges Wesen, von dem ihm eine Offenbarung nur durch besondere Mittel zukommen kann.
Wenn der Mensch sich nicht selber zur Initiation erhebt, so muß dieses religiöse Verhältnis auch ein solches bleiben, daß der Mensch sich hier auf der Erde stehend empfindet, so empfindet, daß er mit seinem Bewußtsein die Gegenstände der Erde überschaut, und durch die Religionsstifter etwas über die Dinge erfährt, welche außerhalb der Sinneswelt und außerhalb der Welt des Verstandes, überhaupt außerhalb der Welt des menschlichen Bewußtseins zunächst liegen. So war es mit allen Religionen, und in gewisser Beziehung ist es auch mit den Religionen bis auf den heutigen Tag so geblieben.
Wir wissen, daß der Buddhismus zum Beispiel zurückzuführen ist auf den großen Religionsstifter Buddha. Aber es wird auch immer betont, wenn von der Stiftung des Buddhismus durch den Buddha die Rede ist, daß der Buddha die Einweihung, das höhere Schauen erlangt hat bei seinem Sitzen unter dem Bodhibaume, was nur ein besonderer Ausdruck dafür ist, daß er im neunundzwanzigsten Jahre seines Lebens fähig geworden war, in die geistige Welt hineinzuschauen und das zu offenbaren, was er in der geistigen Welt erfahren hat.
Dabei kommt es nicht so sehr darauf an, was geoffenbart wird. Das, was geoffenbart wird, richtet sich nach dem, was empfangen werden kann. Nehmen wir zum Beispiel das alte Griechentum: Insofern es seine religiösen Vorstellungen durch den Pythagoreismus hatte, so haben wir wieder das Bewußtsein, daß Pythagoras eine Einweihung durchgemacht hat und dadurch heruntertragen konnte aus den geistigen Welten, was er mit Rücksicht auf die Menschen, die da waren, einzuverleiben hatte dem menschlichen Bewußtsein.
Damit ist das Verhältnis des religiösen Menschen zur geistigen Welt gekennzeichnet, und es ist dieses Verhältnis ein solches, daß es nicht anders gedacht werden kann als ein Gegenüberstehen von Mensch und göttlicher Welt. Ob nun in dieser göttlichen Welt ein Pluralismus, eine Vielheit von Wesenheiten gesehen wird oder eine Einheit, ob Polytheismus oder Monotheismus gelehrt wird, das braucht uns bei dieser Frage weniger zu berühren. Das Wichtigste ist, daß der Mensch sich als Mensch gegenübergestellt findet der göttlichen Welt, die ihm geoffenbart werden muß.
Dieses ist auch der Grund, warum die Theologie so sehr darauf hält, daß eigenes menschliches Wissen nicht einfließen soll in die religiösen Vorstellungen. Denn sobald eigenes menschliches Wissen in die religiösen Vorstellungen einfließt, ist es ein Wissen, das durch den Menschen in überphysischen Zuständen errungen sein muß durch ein Hinaufwachsen in die geistigen Welten. Es ist eine Art Eindringen in die Gebiete, die die Theologie, nicht die Religion als solche, durchaus ausschließen will von dem Einflusse auf die religiösen Vorstellungen der Menschheit. Daher wird auch von den Theologen so sorgfältig gelehrt, daß es zwei Abwege gebe, welche die Theologie zu vermeiden habe. Der eine Abweg sei der, wenn die Theologie ausartet in Theosophie, weil dadurch der Mensch gleichsam hinaufwachsen will zu seinem Gott, dem er aber nur als Mensch gegenüberstehen soll. Daß die Theologie nicht ausarten dürfe in Theosophie, wird ja überall von den Theologen gelehrt.
Die zweite Entartung, sagen die Theologen, sei die Mystik, wenn sie auch manchmal selber kleine Ausflüge machen in theosophisches oder mystisches Gebiet. So trennen wir recht gut alle bloß religiösen Menschen wieder von den Mystikern, denn der Mystiker ist etwas anderes als der bloß religiöse Mensch. Der religiöse Mensch ist dadurch charakterisiert, daß er hier auf der Erde steht und ein Verhältnis zu seinem außer seinem Bewußtsein liegenden Gotte bekommt.
Nun haben wir gesehen, daß im menschlichen Seelenleben noch andere Dinge vorhanden sind. Wir haben gesehen, daß außer dem, was wir heute berührten, im menschlichen Seelenleben das Gedankenleben liegt, das Leben, das sich des Gehirns als Instrument bedient. Indem der Mensch sein gewöhnliches Bewußtsein hat, hat er natürlich auch sein Gehirn, und er hat auch seine Gedankenwelt. Das spielt alles ineinander. Das eine ist nicht ohne das andere da. Daher spielen in das, was wir nennen können das menschliche Bewußtsein, die Gedanken, die Erlebnisse hinein, die Sie haben, wenn Sie sich des Instrumentes des Gehirnes bedienen.
Die Religionen werden daher immer durchsetzt sein mit Gedanken, die sich des Instrumentes des Gehirnes bedienen, denn man kann, wenn man ein Offenbarer, ein Religionsstifter ist, so sprechen, daß man die göttlichen Offenbarungen in solche Formen kleidet, daß die Menschen sie verstehen, wenn sie sich des Instrumentes des Gehirnes bedienen. So kann Religion also gekleidet werden in Vorstellungen des Gehirns. Aber außerdem kann sie auch in solche Vorstellungen gekleidet werden, welche sich des Instrumentes des Herzens bedienen, so daß die Religion entweder mehr zu dem Gehirn oder mehr zu dem Herzen sprechen kann. Wenn wir daher die verschiedenen Religionen miteinander vergleichen, so finden wir, daß die einen mehr sprechen zum Verstande, zu den Erlebnissen des Menschen, die an das Gehirn gebunden sind, die anderen mehr sprechen zu den Vorstellungen und Empfindungen des Herzens und zum Gemütsleben.
Dieser Unterschied kann durchaus in den einzelnen Religionen beobachtet werden. Aber das alle Religionen Charakterisierende liegt darinnen, daß der Mensch sein Ich-Bewußtsein aufrechterhält, daß der Mensch als Mensch bewußt bleibt. Da wirkt hier auf der Erde das IchBewußtsein und wirkt von außen her das, was wesenhaft der göttlichübersinnlichen Welt angehört.
Wenn nun der Mensch Mystiker wird, so geht es bei der Entwickelung des Mystikers in der Tat zunächst am radikalsten los auf alles das, was mit dem gewöhnlichen Erdenbewußtsein verbunden ist. Worauf gerade die Religion als solche sorgfältig hält, solange sie Religion bleibt, nämlich, daß der Mensch als Mensch sich auf sich selbst gestellt findet, daß er sein völliges Erdenbewußtsein entgegenstellt der göttlichen Welt, das durchbricht die Mystik. Alle Mystiker, die vorchristlichen und die nachchristlichen, waren immer bemüht, dieses menschliche Bewußtsein zu durchbrechen. Sie waren immer bemüht, den Gang hinauf zu tun in die übersinnlichen Welten, das heißt, aus dem gewöhnlichen menschlichen Erdenbewußtsein herauszukommen, es zu überwinden. Das ist das Charakteristische der Mystik: die Überwindung des gewöhnlichen Bewußtseins, das Hineinleben in einen Zustand, wo Selbstvergessenheit auftritt. Und wenn die Mystiker weit genug kommen, so soll diese Selbstvergessenheit bis zur Selbstvernichtung, bis zur Selbstauslöschung gehen. Die eigentlichen mystischen Zustände, die Entzückungen, die Ekstase gehen darauf hinaus, auszulöschen dasjenige, was der Mensch die Begrenztheit seines Erdenbewußtseins nennt, um dadurch in das höhere hineinzuwachsen.
Man gelangt, weil sie in so vielen Formen auftritt, weil es so vielerlei Mystiken gibt, nur schwer zu einer Vorstellung über das Wesen der Mystik, wenn man nicht an einzelne Beispiele anknüpft. Deshalb ist es ganz gut, auch hier an einzelne solche Beispiele anzuknüpfen.
Denken wir einmal, daß der Mystiker, nach dem, was wir jetzt gesagt haben, zunächst sich berufen fühlt, sein gewöhnliches Ich-Bewußtsein zu unterdrücken, auszuschalten und so über sich hinauszukommen. Dabei bleibt ihm ja, das können Sie sich leicht denken, das, was sonst der Mensch als seine Seelenerlebnisse hat, wenn er sich des Gehirns und des Herzens bedient. Der Mystiker will das Bewußtsein ausschalten, aber er schaltet damit nicht aus die Erlebnisse durch das Gehirn und durch das Herz. Damit haben Sie schon alle möglichen Schattierungen von Mystikern. Machen wir uns einmal klar, welche Schattierungen möglich sind. Damit wir uns dieselben deutlich machen, schreiben wir sie hier übersichtlich nieder:
Gehirnerlebnisse
Herzenserlebnisse
Bewußtseinserlebnisse.
Ein Mystiker kann also Gehirnerlebnisse und Herzenserlebnisse haben. Das Bewußtsein aber wird von ihm ausgelöscht. Dann erscheint uns der Mystiker so, daß wir sagen können, er geht in der Ekstase aus sich heraus; aber die Gedanken und Empfindungen sind solche, daß wir erkennen, er hat noch nicht ausgeschaltet das, was durch das Instrument des Gehirns und des Herzens gedacht und empfunden wird. Solche Mystiker, welche Herz- und Gehirnerlebnisse haben, finden wir eigentlich so recht nur, wenn wir ziemlich weit in der Geschichte zurückgehen, und zwar finden wir sie dann bei solchen Mystikern, welche, nachdem das Christentum begründet war, mit Hilfe der griechisch-platonischen Philosophie versuchten, zu dem göttlichen Selbst mystisch aufzusteigen. Das sind zum Beispiel die Neuplatoniker Jamblichos und Plotinos. Dazu gehört auch der Mystiker Scotus Erigena. Und man könnte, wenn man die Schattierung nicht streng einhält, sondern einen Mystiker dazunimmt, bei dem die Gehirnerlebnisse überwiegen und die Herzenserlebnisse geringer sind, in die Reihe dieser Mystiker auch den Meister Eckhart rechnen. Das wäre sozusagen die Klasse A, die Mystiker mit Herz- und Gehirnerlebnissen.
A. Herzenserlebnisse, Gehirnerlebnisse => Neuplatoniker, Scotus Erigena, Meister Eckhart.
Eine zweite Art von Mystikern wären diejenigen, welche nicht nur ihr Bewußtsein, sondern zu ihrem Bewußtsein hinzu noch ihre Gehirnerlebnisse ausschließen und nur diejenigen Vorstellungen behalten, welche man hat, wenn man nur das Instrument des Herzens gebraucht. Solche Mystiker treten uns in der Regel schon so entgegen, daß sie alles das nicht lieben, was gedacht ist. Die Gedanken wollen sie auch noch ausschließen zu dem Bewußtsein hinzu. Nur was durch das Instrument des Herzens errungen werden kann, ist ihnen eigentlich zur menschlichen Entwickelung persönlich allein brauchbar. Also es wären Mystiker, welche ausschließen die Gehirnerlebnisse und die Bewußtseinserlebnisse, und die das menschliche Bewußtsein dadurch zu überwinden versuchen, daß sie ekstatisch herausgehen aus diesem Bewußtsein, aber einen Zusammenhang mit dem Menschen sich noch dadurch erhalten, daß sie in den Herzenserlebnissen ihr Verhältnis zu der Umwelt begründen.
Wenn Sie sich nun einen solchen Mystiker konkret vorstellen, dann können Sie etwa sagen: Wird er ein Ekstatiker sein, so wird er außer sich kommen wollen und wird solche Zustände, wo er ganz von sich frei wird, lieben; aber er wird zugleich, wenn Sie ihm dasjenige, wozu man sich des Gehirns bedienen muß, überliefern wollen, sich diesem gegenüber ablehnend verhalten. Ob Sie ihm etwas über die höheren Welten oder über die äußere Natur mitteilen, das wird ihm schließlich gleichgültig sein. Er wird immer sagen: Das braucht man alles nicht zu wissen; man kann, wenn man nur ein Verhältnis begründet zur Umwelt mit dem Instrumente des Herzens, allen Menschheitsdienst ganz gut besorgen. — Solche Mystiker, welche eigentlich von allen menschlichen Seelenerlebnissen nur noch die Herzenserlebnisse sprechen lassen, werden nicht leicht den besonders komplizierten Vorstellungen zugänglich sein, die durch den Okkultismus gewonnen werden; denn dazu ist immer ein bißchen Denken wenigstens notwendig.
So antwortete zum Beispiel ein Mystiker, als man ihn fragte, ob er sich nicht eines Psalmbuches bedienen wolle, weil er nichts von heiligen Schriften las: Jemand, der sich erst eines Psalmbuches bedient, wird bald noch ein größeres Buch haben wollen, und man kann gar nicht absehen, was er dann noch haben will, wenn er anfängt, etwas wissen zu wollen von dem, was sich in Gedanken kleidet. - Auch über die äußere Natur hat sich dieser Mystiker keine äußerlichen Gedanken machen wollen; er sagte: Der Mensch kann doch nichts wissen, was er nicht schon weiß. — So hat er alles Wissen abgelehnt. Das wäre ein Mystiker mit bloßen Herzenserlebnissen, also zur Kategorie B gehörig. Nun tritt bei einem solchen Mystiker in hohem Grade eine Art Ersparnis gegenüber seinen Seelenkräften auf, weil er sich ja des Verstandes, der Gedankenkraft gar nicht bedient. Das Bewußtsein schließt er auch aus. Wenn er also in besonderen ekstatischen Zuständen mit Ausschluß des menschlichen Erdenbewußtseins ist, so wird ein solcher Mystiker, weil er das, was man mit den Augen sieht, mit den Ohren hört, kurz, mit den Sinnen wahrnimmt, um sich herum hat und es nicht begreifen will, weil er nicht für notwendig hält, es zu begreifen, viele Kräfte übrig behalten, um in der Natur, die uns umgibt, zu fühlen. Wir können uns gegenüber der Theologie als Mystiker schützen in der Weise, wie der Mystiker es getan hat, von dem wir sprechen. Die Natur umgibt also alle Mystiker; ein Mystiker würde aber auch die Wissenschaft über die Natur ablehnen. Dadurch spart er die Kräfte, die er gebrauchen würde, um über die Natur nachzudenken. Er wird also nicht Naturwissenschaft studieren. Aber weil er sich der Kräfte des Herzens bedient, werden diese sich stärker entwickeln können. Er wird in höherem Maße als ein Mensch, der seine Kräfte für den Verstand und für sein Selbstbewußtsein verbraucht, fühlen und empfinden durch das Instrument seines Herzens, was alles die Wesen der Natur rings um ihn herum zu ihm sagen können. Daher können wir gerade bei einem solchen Mystiker das ausgesprochenste, das konkreteste Naturgefühl voraussetzen. Ein solcher hat einmal ein derartiges Naturgefühl in folgende Worte gekleidet, die ich Ihnen mitteilen will, damit Sie sehen, wie das Leben Naturgefühl wird bei einem solchen Mystiker:
Höchster, allmächtiger und gütiger Herr!
Dein sei Preis, Herrlichkeit, Ehre und jeglicher Segen.
Dir allein gebühren sie;
kein Mensch ist wert, Dich zu nennen.Gepriesen sei Gott, der Herr und alle Geschöpfe,
vor allem unser edler Bruder, die Sonne,
die den Tag bewirkt und uns leuchtet mit ihrem Lichte.
Sie ist schön und strahlend in ihrem großen Glanze;
von Dir, o Herr, ist sie das Sinnbild.Gepriesen sei Gott, der Herr,
um unsrer Schwester willen, des Mondes,
und auch um aller Sterne willen;
die er am Himmel gestaltet hat
und erscheinen läßt in Schönheit und Helle.Gepriesen sei Gott, der Herr,
um unsrer Brüder willen, um des Windes,
der Luft und der Wolken willen,
um der heiteren und aller Zeiten willen,
durch die er alle Geschöpfe erhalten will.Gepriesen sei Gott, der Herr,
um unsrer Schwester willen, des Wassers,
das so nützlich ist und demütig
und auch köstlich und keusch.Gepriesen sei Gott, der Herr,
um unsres Bruders willen, des Feuers,
durch das er uns die Nacht erhellt,
und das so schön und fröhlich
und so stark und mächtig ist.Gepriesen sei Gott, der Herr,
um unsrer Mutter willen, der Erde;
durch die wir Nahrung und Kraft erhalten
und vielerlei Frucht auch
und aller Blumen und Kräuter Farbenfülle.
Sie sehen, hier ist alles aus dem Selbstbewußtsein hinausgekommen, und man kann deshalb sagen, trunkene Gefühlskraft des Herzens ist es, durchzogen von dem, was nicht das Auge, nicht die Sinne wahrnehmen können — denn der Betreffende ist ein Mystiker —, sondern was die Seele fühlt, wenn es für sie nicht zu einem Teile des Erlebens wird, aufzugehen in dem Göttlichen der Natur. Wenn das beim Menschen aber ein Teil wird, dann kann er jenes Naturgefühl haben, von dem Goethe im «Faust» so schön sagt:
Erhabner Geist, du gabst mir, gabst mir alles,
Warum ich bat. Du hast mir nicht umsonst
Dein Angesicht im Feuer zugewendet.
Gabst mir die herrliche Natur zum Königreich,
Kraft, sie zu fühlen, zu genießen. Nicht
Kalt staunenden Besuch erlaubst du nur,
Vergönnest mir, in ihre tiefe Brust
Wie in den Busen eines Freunds zu schauen.
Du führst die Reihe der Lebendigen
Vor mir vorbei und lehrst mich meine Brüder
Im stillen Busch, in Luft und Wasser kennen...
Da haben Sie einen Anklang an ein solches Gefühl, von dem eben das Geheimnis gelöst worden ist. Und wenn wir den Faust betrachten, so wird das zu einem Teile von seinem Seelenleben. Hier haben Sie aber auch den Mystiker, bei dem diese eine Seite, dieses eine Element des menschlichen Erlebens alles übrige überstrahlt, und der sich der Natur so gegenüberstellt, daß ihm die Sonne zum Bruder, der Mond zur Schwester, das Wasser zur Schwester, das Feuer zum Bruder, die Erde zur Mutter wird, daß er ihr Geistiges in dieser Weise fühlt. Da haben Sie das Heraustreten aus dem gewöhnlichen menschlichen Bewußtsein und zugleich das Erhalten aller derjenigen Seelenerlebnisse, welche durch das Instrument des Herzens erlebt werden können. Es ist das der Mystiker, den Sie alle kennen: Franz von Assisi.
In ihm haben wir ein ganz besonderes Beispiel eines Mystikers, der wirklich sich so verhalten hat, daß er alle Theologie als äußeres Wissen und auch alles Wissen von übersinnlichen Dingen für die Inkarnation, in der damals Franz von Assisi gelebt hat, ablehnte. Das, was bei ihm daher so groß und gewaltig herauskommt, ist das Zusammenfließen mit dem Geiste der Natur. Nur ist es nicht so wie ein pantheistisches Geistiges, das immer etwas von einem feineren Gefühl, von Affektation hat; nicht so, daß er von einem allgemeinen Geiste in der Natur schwärmt und singt, sondern von den konkreten Empfindungen kindlicher, brüderlicher, schwesterlicher Art, die seine Seele durchziehen, wenn er den Wesenheiten der Natur gegenübersteht.
B. Herzenserlebnisse => Franz von Assisi.
Menschen, welche die Ekstase, das heißt den Verlust ihres Selbstbewußtseins oder die Verdunkelung ihres Selbstbewußtseins suchen und für gewisse Zustände diejenigen Seelenerlebnisse ausschließen, die sich des Instrumentes des Herzens bedienen, dafür aber zurückbehalten die Gedanken, die Gehirnerlebnisse, die bezeichnet man in der gewöhnlichen Sprache oftmals nicht als Mystiker, weil man von einem Mystiker gewöhnlich verlangt, daß seine Erlebnisse der Dinge von Gefühlen durchdrungen sind. Sie können sich auch leicht denken, warum man das tut. Denken Sie sich einen Menschen, der alles persönliche Selbstbewußtsein herausgedrängt hat aus seinen Seelenerlebnissen. Dann ist es bei diesem Menschen eben so, daß gerade das bei ihm nicht vorhanden ist, was die meisten Menschen an den anderen Menschen interessant finden, nämlich die Persönlichkeit. Die Menschen interessieren sich ja füreinander wegen ihrer Persönlichkeit.
Nun hat das, was wir Herzenserlebnisse nennen, noch so viel persönlichen Anstrich, wenn es uns so entgegentritt wie bei Franz von Assisi, noch so viel zwingende Gewalt über das Allgemein-Menschliche, daß uns das Bewußtsein wach bleibt, so daß man bei ihm noch mit dem Interesse mitgeht, nicht so gern aber mit dem Willen. Das ist auch für das gewöhnliche Leben in der Ordnung, besonders in der Gegenwart, denn es können nicht alle in der Gegenwart so werden wie Franz von Assisi. Das Allgemeine des Herzens, das, was von ihm bewußt werden kann, überwältigt doch die Menschen, wenn auch das Persönliche abgestumpft ist. Dieses Zurückdrängen und Auslöschen des Bewußtseins, diese Abgestumpftheit bei einem solchen Mystiker wie Franz von Assisi führt bei ihm auf der einen Seite, wie Sie wissen, einen Radikaliismus herbei, und auf der anderen Seite hält es die Menschen ab, wenn sie sich auch für ihn interessieren, es ihm nachzumachen. Die Menschen wollen gewöhnlich nicht aus ihrem Bewußtsein heraus, weil sie fühlen, daß sie den Boden unter ihren Füßen verlieren, wenn sie aus ihrem Bewußtsein herauskommen.
Aber nun denken Sie sich, wenn es einen Mystiker geben könnte, der nun gar ausschlösse alles persönliche Bewußtsein und außerdem die Herzenserlebnisse. Der würde den Menschen etwas geben, was nur reine Gedanken sind, Gedanken, Vorstellungen, die sich nur des Instrumentes des Gehirns bedienen. Der Mensch wird in der Regel nicht in der Lage sein, in einem solchen Zustande zu leben. Ein Franz von Assisi kann man in ausgiebigem Maße sein, weil dasjenige, was als Herzenserlebnisse erlebt wird, wirklich anwendbar ist in allgemeinmenschlicher Weise. Jemand, der nun zu seinem Bewußtsein, zu seinem persönlichen Ich-Bewußtsein auch noch die Herzenserlebnisse unterdrückt und bloß in Gedanken lebt, nur das in Gedanken ausprägt, was an das menschliche Gehirn gebunden ist, der wird erst notwendig haben, in bestimmten, man möchte sagen, feierlichen Augenblicken seines Lebens sich dieser Beschäftigung hinzugeben. Denn das Leben ruft immer wieder zum Persönlichen auf der Erde zurück; und jemand, der nur in Gedanken leben würde, der sich nur des Gehirns bedienen würde, könnte gar keine Erdenbeschäftigung verrichten. Daher kann es nur für kurze Zeit sein, nur für die Augenblicke, wo man sich ausschließlich des Gehirns bedienen kann. Aber für die anderen Menschen wird es schon mit einem solchen Menschen so sein, daß sie sich nicht einmal einen Augenblick mit ihm beschäftigen, sondern überhaupt von ihm weglaufen. Das, was die Menschen am meisten interessiert, sind die persönlichen Erlebnisse. Die unterdrückt er aber. Das Überwältigende der Herzenserlebnisse gibt er auch auf. Und so laufen denn die Menschen in Scharen davon, das heißt, sie haben überhaupt keine Lust, an ihn heranzutreten.
Ein solcher Mystiker ist der Philosoph Hegel, von dem ich auch schon zu Ihnen gesprochen habe. Das, was er gibt, soll ganz absichtlich allen persönlichen, bewußten Standpunkt und auch alle Herzenserlebnisse ausschließen. Es soll bloße Gedankenkontemplation sein, so daß wir als Beispiel eines Mystikers mit bloßen Hirnerlebnissen im eminentesten Sinne Hegel zu nennen haben. Ein solcher Mensch führt uns sozusagen in die reinsten Ätherhöhen des Gedankens hinauf. Denn während der Mensch im gewöhnlichen Leben nur Gedanken hat, die im persönlichen Interesse, im Selbstbewußtsein wurzeln und von ihnen durchzogen und durchdrungen sind, muß gerade das bei einem solchen philosophischen Mystiker ausgeschlossen werden. Und auch dasjenige, was das Geistige begehrenswert macht dadurch, daß es hineinspielt in Herzenserlebnisse, schließt solch ein Mystiker aus. Er widmet sich in majestätischer Resignation dem Ablauf der bloßen Hirnerlebnisse. Er hat daher von alledem, was das menschliche Herz erleben kann, nur die Gedanken.
Das ist es, was die meisten an Hegel so besonders ärgert, daß er nichts hat, was an die Herzenserlebnisse erinnert, sondern alle Dinge nur in Gedankenbildern bringt. Kalt und öde fühlen sich die meisten Menschen, wenn sie das, was sie im Herzen lieben, bei Hegel bis zur Kälte des Gedankens auskristallisiert finden. Und das, worin die Persönlichkeit wurzelt, wodurch der Mensch im Erdenleben feststeht, das Selbstbewußtsein, das Ich-Bewußtsein, Hegel hat es überhaupt nur als Gedanke. Hegel widmet selbstverständlich dem Ich auch seine Aufmerksamkeit, weil es der Gedanke eines besonders wichtigen Erlebens ist, des Ich-Erlebens. Das tut er. Aber es bleibt ein Gedankenbild, und Hegel ist nicht durchdrungen von der Lebendigkeit und Unmittelbarkeit der menschlichen Persönlichkeit, die im Selbstbewußtsein wurzeln.
C. Gehirnerlebnisse => Hegel.
Sodann haben wir noch eine andere Möglichkeit eines Mystikers. Das wäre der Mystiker, der nun ausschließen würde alle drei Dinge: das Erdenbewußtsein, die Herzenserlebnisse und die Gehirnerlebnisse, So also hätten wir den Mystiker D, der alle menschlichen Erdenerlebnisse der Seele von sich ausschließen würde. Sie können sich vorstellen, daß das außerordentlich schwierig ist. Es ist das etwas, was ja beim Okkultisten — und wir werden davon eindringlich sprechen in den nächsten Tagen - selbstverständlich ist, daß er sich in Zustände erhebt, wo alles ausgeschlossen ist, was sich an das Instrument des Gehirns und auch an das Instrument des Herzens gebunden findet, soweit sie aus Erdenkräften sind und soweit sie sich des Bewußtseins bedienen. Das ist beim praktischen Okkultisten, der in die höheren Welten hinaufsteigt, etwas Selbstverständliches. Aber da fängt der praktische Okkultist an, in der übersinnlichen Welt zu leben und zu erfahren; und während er alles ausgelöscht hat, was ihn in Zusammenhang bringt mit der den Erdenmenschen umgebenden Welt, hat er die höhere Welt um sich. Er tritt also aus etwas heraus und in etwas anderes hinein. Der Mystiker aber, der alle diese drei Erlebnisse ausschließt, die sich der Erdeninstrumente bedienen, wird in nichts hineintreten, was in sein Bewußtsein hineinfallen kann. Er tritt natürlich nicht in das Nichts hinein, denn außer unserem Bewußtsein ist ja die göttlich-geistige übersinnliche Welt da. Aber er tritt auch nicht so hinein wie der Okkultist, dem dann aufgeht das unaussprechliche Wort, das übersinnliche Licht, sondern er unterdrückt sein Bewußtsein, er unterdrückt alle Kräfte, die in ihm sind, und fühlt zuletzt nur noch, wie er nach Unterdrückung aller dieser menschlichen Erlebnisse mit etwas vereinigt wird und dann darinnen ist.
Dann beginnt etwas, was tatsächlich auf ihn wirkt wie die Auslöschung des Bewußtseins, wie die Auslöschung aller Erdenerlebnisse, wie die Vermählung mit etwas, das gefühlt und empfunden wird, das in Trunkenheit aufgenommen wird, mit dem man sich vereinigt in Entzückung und Ekstase, von dem aber eine Mitteilung nicht zu machen ist, weil es nicht in einer besonderen Weise, nicht in konkreten Erlebnissen erlebt wird.
Wir werden, wenn wir später vom Okkultismus sprechen, sehen, daß es verhängnisvoll sein würde, wenn der Mensch alle drei Arten von Erlebnissen, nämlich Gehirn-, Herz- und Bewußtseinserlebnisse zugleich mit der Wurzel aus sich herauslöste. Dann würde er ein Mystiker werden, welcher nach der sogenannten Vereinigung [mit dem Göttlichen], in der Entzückung, eben bloß einem schlafenden Menschen gleichkäme, der sich im Schlafe mit dem Göttlichen vereinigt, aber nichts davon weiß, nicht einmal ein Gefühl davon hat, daß er mit dem Göttlichen vereinigt ist. Will sich der Mystiker wenigstens eine lebendige Empfindung und ein Gefühl von der Vereinigung mit dem Göttlichen erhalten, so muß er nacheinander diese einzelnen persönlichen Erlebnisse tilgen.
Da kommen wir zu einem Beispiele eines Mystikers, der uns das zeigen kann, zu einer Persönlichkeit, die tatsächlich diesen Weg eingeschlagen und gewissermaßen auch zur Nachahmung in ihren Betrachtungen empfohlen hat; eine Persönlichkeit, die zuerst mit aller Kraft danach strebte, das persönliche Selbstbewußtsein zu überwinden, das unterdrückt und ausgelöscht werden sollte. Dabei blieben also noch tätig die Herz- und Gemütskräfte und der Verstand. Das nächste, was dann überwunden wurde von der Persönlichkeit, waren die Verstandeskräfte und das letzte die Herzkräfte. Daß die Herzkräfte die letzten geblieben sind, das macht es, daß das Hineinschreiten in die Welt, die außerhalb des Bewußtseins liegt, ganz besonders kräftig und intensiv empfunden wurde. In dieser Reihenfolge wurden also die Dinge überwunden: zuerst das Bewußtsein, dann die Gehirnerlebnisse und zuletzt die Herzenserlebnisse.
Es ist sehr charakteristisch, daß diese Persönlichkeit, die eigentlich in der regulärsten Weise einen solchen mystischen Weg durchgemacht hat, eine Frau ist. Nicht wahr, auf theosophischem Felde kann man bei solchen Dingen nicht mißverstanden werden; die Dinge müssen da objektiv aufgenommen werden. Bei einer Frau ist es nämlich tatsächlich leichter, denn es ist ja, wie wir auch noch aus anderen Dingen kennenlernen werden, die Eigentümlichkeit der Frauennatur, daß es ihr leichter wird, sich selbst, das heißt alle Seelenerlebnisse zu besiegen. Die Frau, die in der geschilderten regulären Weise Mystik erlebt hat, so daß sie nacheinander ausgelöscht und ausgerottet hat aus sich die an die Instrumente des Gehirns und des Herzens gebundenen Seelenerlebnisse und dann die Verbindung mit dem göttlichen Geiste wie eine Vermählung, wie eine Umfassung empfunden hat, ist die heilige Theresia.
D. — => die heilige Theresia.
Wenn Sie das Leben der heiligen Theresia verfolgen und es auf der Grundlage solcher Betrachtungen ansehen, wie wir sie heute gepflogen haben über das Verstehen der Mystik im Menschen, dann werden Sie sagen, daß ein solcher Mystiker nur ein außerordentlicher Ausnahmefall sein kann. Das gewöhnliche ist vielmehr, daß die einzelnen Seelenerlebnisse nicht in solcher Reinheit und Stärke überwunden werden wie bei der heiligen Theresia, sondern daß sie nur teilweise überwunden werden und daß irgendein Teil davon nachbleibt.
Dadurch erhalten wir eigentlich wiederum drei Gestalten von Mystikern. Wir erhalten diejenigen Mystiker, die zwar alles überwinden wollen, was in ihnen als Seelenerlebnisse lebt, aber bei denen hauptsächlich solche Erlebnisse zurückbleiben, die an das Gehirn gebunden sind. Solche Mystiker sind in der Regel, man möchte sagen — wenn man das Wort nicht trivial versteht — Naturen, die man ansprechen wird im höchsten Sinne des Wortes als praktische, weise Menschen; als Menschen, die sich gut auskennen im Leben, weil sie sich ihres Gehirns bedienen, und die, weil sie bis zu einem hohen Grade das Persönliche unterdrückt haben, auch dadurch in ihrer unpersönlichen Natur sympathisch anmuten.
Solche Mystiker gibt es dann, wenn die betreffenden Menschen zwar getrachtet haben, alles zu überwinden, wenn es ihnen aber nur wenig gelungen ist, die Herzenserlebnisse zu überwinden. Merken Sie wohl den Unterschied zwischen solchen Mystikern und Mystikern, wie Franz von Assisi einer war, der nicht danach strebte, die Herzenserlebnisse zu überwinden, sondern sie in vollem Umfange behalten hat, daher er sie auch mit voller Gesundheit erhalten hat. Das ist das Majestätisch-Großartige bei Franz von Assisi, daß sich sein Herz ausgebreitet hat über sein ganzes seelisches Wesen. Ich meine also nicht Mystiker von solcher Art, die nicht danach streben, die Herzenserlebnisse zu überwinden. Ich rede vielmehr von solchen, die tatsächlich danach streben, die Herzenserlebnisse zu überwinden, die mit aller Gewalt danach ringen, sie zu unterdrücken, denen es aber nicht gelingt. Bei diesen findet man dann nicht das Außerordentliche der Vermählung mit dem Übersinnlich-Geistigen, das uns bei der heiligen "Theresia entgegentrat. Wir finden bei diesen Mystikern, die gestrebt haben, über alles Persönlich-Menschlich-Irdische hinauszukommen und sich doch in hervorragendem Maße erhalten haben die Erlebnisse, die an ‘das Herz gebunden sind, daß sich in ihr Streben etwas hineinmischt, was menschlich recht sehr begrenzt ist. Es wird dann wirklich so sein, daß dieses Vermählen, dieses Umfangenwerden von einem GöttlichGeistigen sehr ähnlich ist den Liebesempfindungen, Liebesinstinkten der menschlichen Natur im gewöhnlichen Leben.
Solche Mystiker, die sozusagen ihren Gott oder ihre göttliche Welt lieben, wie man irgend etwas Menschliches liebt, finden Sie genug, wenn Sie die Heiligengeschichte, die Geschichte der Mönche und Nonnen einmal durchblättern. Da werden Sie sehen, wie viele von diesen heiligen Mystikern in einer ganz menschlichen Inbrunst, man möchte sagen, mit menschlicher Liebe verliebt sind in die Madonna, die ihnen geradezu ein Ersatz für ein menschliches Weib wird. Oder wie Nonnen in ihren Christus-Bräutigam verliebt sind mit all den Gefühlen irdisch-menschlicher Liebe. Das ist ein Kapitel, das psychologisch sehr interessant ist, wenn es auch nicht immer sympathisch berührt; das ist ein Kapitel der kirchlich-religiösen Mystiker, die das vorhin Geschilderte anstreben, es aber nicht erreichen können, weil die menschliche Natur sie zurückhält.
Dann kommen wir zu einer Art von Mystikern, die ähnlich sind wie die heilige Hildegard, die recht schöne Anlagen haben, aber daneben auch etwas von gewöhnlichem irdischem Trieb, was sich dann in ihr mystisches Erleben, in ihre mystischen Empfindungen hineinmischt. Sie kommen schon in ein Erleben, das dem erotischen Erleben sehr ähnlich ist, in die mystische Erotik hinein, die Sie aus der Geschichte der Mystiker ersehen können, wenn diese in ihren Herzensergießungen von ihrer Seelenbraut, von ihrer brünstigen Liebe zu dem Bräutigam Jesus oder dergleichen sprechen.
Am leichtesten erträglich werden solche mystischen Persönlichkeiten noch dann, wenn sie sich einen guten Rest von gewöhnlichem menschlichem Bewußtsein dazu bewahrt haben, wenn sie sozusagen mit ihrem Menschlich-Persönlichen immer etwas über ihrem mystischen Erleben darüberstehen können, wenn etwas Humor und Ironie in ihr Bewußtsein hineinkommt, wenn sie sich betrachten und sehen, daß sie nicht überwunden haben, sondern daß noch etwas Menschliches in ihnen ist. Da bekommt die Sache einen persönlichen Anstrich und wird nicht so unsympathisch, weil sie einen bestimmten Zug nicht hat bei der angestrebten, aber nicht erreichten Überwindung aller Herzenserlebnisse. Das Unsympathische ist nämlich gerade, daß der Mensch strebt, etwas zu erreichen, es aber nicht erreichen kann und zurückgehalten wird gerade durch das, was er selbst am meisten überwinden möchte. Dadurch erhält das ganze dann einen gewissen unsympathischen Zug, den man wie eine Scheinheiligkeit, wie eine Heuchelei empfindet, weil wie auf einem Umweg durch Askese die Nichtüberwindung dessen ersetzt werden soll, was sich in den gewöhnlichen menschlichen Trieben auslebt. Dagegen, wenn dieser Zug von Ironie und Humor dabei ist, wo der Betreffende dann auch wieder Momente hat, in denen er sich seines gewöhnlichen menschlichen Bewußtseins bedient und sich selber anschaut, wenn er seine mystischen Momente abwechseln läßt mit solchen, wo er sich von dem gewöhnlichen menschlichen Standpunkte aus die Wahrheit sagt, dann gewinnt das Ganze doch an Sympathie, wie es der Fall ist, wenn wir eine mystische Persönlichkeit verfolgen wie Mechthild von Magdeburg.
Mechthild von Magdeburg zeigt gerade diesen Unterschied gegenüber den ihr ähnlichen Persönlichkeiten, daß sie zwar das BrünstigErotische mit dem Göttlich-Geistigen hat, sich aber auch mit einem gewissen Anstrich von Humor über ihre göttliche Frau Minne oder ihre göttliche Minne überhaupt ausspricht, wie man etwa von menschlicher Liebe spricht. Sie kleidet das nicht in hochtrabende Worte, sondern spricht davon so, daß immer etwas von Ironie dabei ist. Es ist ein Unterschied, wenn wir dagegen etwas lesen von dem, was die heilige Hildegard sagt in ihren Schriften, die ja davon auch nicht ganz frei sind, oder die Niederschriften von selbst sehr hoch geschätzten Mystikern. Das ist der Unterschied gegenüber solchen Persönlichkeiten, die auch noch nicht das menschlich-persönliche Bewußtsein überwunden haben, daß sich Mechthild von Magdeburg brünstig hineinversetzt fühlt bis an die Grenze des Göttlich-Geistigen und wirklich aufrichtig spricht, so daß sie dasjenige, worin noch Herzenserotik ist, nicht benennt mit dem Ausdruck religiöser Entzückung, sondern spricht von religiöser Liebschaft. Denn das dürfte das gleiche sein, wenn sie spricht von der Frau Minne, mit der sie ihren göttlichen Bräutigam meint.
So haben Sie auch hierin noch allerlei Schattierungen. Das letzte war eine Schattierung, wo starke Herzenserlebnisse vorhanden sind, aber auch noch etwas darin geblieben ist, was man nennen kann das persönliche Bewußtsein. Kurz, Mystik ist eine Sache, die ungeheuer viele Schattierungen hat. Und dabei haben wir noch nicht einmal dasjenige berührt, von dem wir noch zu sprechen haben werden, was bezeichnet wird als die älteste griechische Mystik, wie Sie sie dargestellt finden in meinem Buche «Das Christentum als mystische Tatsache». Zu dieser Mystik sind wir mit den heutigen Nuancen noch nicht gedrungen. Aber eines haben die heutigen Nuancen uns lehren können, nämlich daß alle Mystiker das Bestreben haben, hinauszudringen über das gewöhnliche persönliche Ich-Bewußtsein, es auszulöschen, und daß, wenn der Mensch nicht den Boden unter seinen Füßen verlieren will, ein anderes Bewußtsein auftauchen muß. Das ist das Wesen der Mystiker, daß von ihnen - bis an die Grenze des Geistigen gekommen - das Göttlich-Geistige noch empfunden wird wie eine Vermählung, daß aber nicht eingetreten wird in die Welt des GöttlichGeistigen. Abgestreift wird das Bewußtsein, das geschult ist an den äußeren Gegenständen, das immer einen äußeren Gegenstand braucht. Es ist das Bestreben der Mystiker, dieses Bewußtsein abzuwerfen. Der Mystiker will über sich selber hinausgehen. Wenn aber der Mensch bewußt erleben will, was zu erleben ist durch die Erlebnisse des unaussprechlichen Wortes und des ungeoffenbarten Lichtes, so ist es klar, daß er das erleben muß in einem neuen, in einem anderen Bewußtsein. Daher muß der Mystiker, wenn er Okkultist werden will, nicht nur das negative Streben aufgeben, sondern darum besorgt sein, ein anderes, ein höheres Bewußtsein zu entwickeln, nämlich das Bewußtsein ohne einen bewußten Gegenstand.
Morgen werden wir von diesem höheren Bewußtsein, in das der Okkultist eintreten muß, weiter sprechen.
A. Herzenserlebnisse, Gehirnerlebnisse => Neuplatoniker, Scotus Erigena, Meister Eckhart.
B. Herzenserlebnisse => Franz von Assisi.
C. Gehirnerlebnisse => Hegel.
D. — => die heilige Theresia.
Fourth Lecture
We must now turn our attention to the third experience of the supersensible world, to the consciousness that prevails in the supersensible world. Now, if we want to consider consciousness without an object in the supersensible world, we must first become acquainted with something that every human being has, but which not everyone usually observes properly, namely, ordinary consciousness in this world, the consciousness that is summarized within the human being by the fact that the human being becomes aware of his ego; becomes aware that he is a being existing in himself, knowing the other objects and beings around him.
This consciousness is now the element of our life which we must examine very closely from the point of view of occult observation. For it is safe to say that this consciousness, or one could also say this ego-consciousness of the human being, is for the occultist the element of life that is most in danger of being lost when passing into the supersensible worlds, and to which the human being who wants to enter these supersensible worlds must pay particular attention. The special attention to ordinary, everyday consciousness, let us say to earthly consciousness — here I come back to a certain contradiction, but the necessity of accepting contradictions has already been emphasized — is so necessary on the occult path because the loss of this consciousness, the abandonment and overcoming of this consciousness, is as necessary as it is dangerous. So there is both a danger and a necessity here.If you now consider a little how this ego-consciousness is constituted, you will have to say to yourself: This consciousness is actually that through which you are spiritually within yourself, through which you close yourself off spiritually within yourself. When you are not using your senses, you still have the possibility, at first in a non-sleeping state, of being with yourself in your consciousness. This consciousness is only plunged into darkness when the human being sinks into sleep.
Now you will not need to think much to tell yourself: That which man is accustomed to calling the divine or the unified basis of the world cannot, at first, be included in this consciousness, which man loses every evening when he falls asleep. For every morning man finds the contents of his consciousness again; everything he had in the evening when he fell asleep has remained, and he can, so to speak, pick up the thread of his inner, soul life where he left off when he fell asleep. Everything has therefore remained the same from falling asleep to waking up; it is only that man knew nothing of himself while he was asleep. The unified divine foundation of the world, which sustains everything, must therefore also have sustained its consciousness; it must therefore be completely independent of the human state of sleep, must, as it were, watch over human nature when humans are awake and also when they are asleep.
From this you can see that, in any case, when humans are in this earthly consciousness, they must think of the divine foundation of the world outside this earthly consciousness. And this thinking of the world foundation outside of earthly consciousness makes it necessary that human beings, through their own consciousness, that is, through this consciousness which includes their I, cannot know anything at all about the world foundation at first. This circumstance has, of course, always made it necessary that things from the world foundation did not come to ordinary earthly consciousness through an effort of this earthly consciousness, but through what is called revelation. Revelations, especially religious revelations, have always been given to man for the simple reason that he cannot find them within his own consciousness, insofar as this consciousness is earthly consciousness. Therefore, if human beings want to gain a relationship with the primordial ground, they must be enlightened about the nature of this primordial ground; they must receive a revelation. This has always been the case throughout the entire development of humanity. If we look back to ancient pre-Christian times, we find various great religious teachers who, for example, in the language of Buddhism are called Bodhisattvas, but are referred to in other ways by other peoples. These teachers placed themselves, so to speak, among human beings and communicated to them what they could not attain through their earthly consciousness.
Where, you may ask, did these religious teachers obtain their knowledge of the things that lie beyond human consciousness? You know from various lectures and theosophical communications that there was an initiation, the so-called initiation, and that all the great religious teachers ultimately had to undergo this initiation themselves, that is, they had to ascend to a certain occult path, or that they had to be taught by other initiates who had ascended to the occult path, that is, by those who had not grasped the divine with their earthly consciousness, but with the consciousness that had placed itself outside of earthly consciousness.
This is where the old religions come from. All communications and revelations that the peoples received in pre-Christian times from great teachers of humanity ultimately lead back to such founders of the great religions, who were initiates, who had experienced in superphysical states what they communicated to humanity.
And therefore, the relationship of religious people to their God always remained such that they imagined their God as a being outside their world, as a being in the beyond, from whom revelation could only come to them through special means.
If man does not raise himself to initiation, this religious relationship must remain such that man feels himself standing here on earth, feeling that he surveys the objects of the earth with his consciousness and learns through the founders of religion something about things that lie outside the sensory world and outside the world of the intellect, in general lie outside the world of human consciousness. This was the case with all religions, and in a certain sense it has remained so with religions to this day.
We know that Buddhism, for example, can be traced back to the great religious founder Buddha. But when we speak of the founding of Buddhism by Buddha, it is always emphasized that Buddha attained initiation, higher vision, while sitting under the Bodhi tree, which is only a special expression for the fact that in the twenty-ninth year of his life he became capable of looking into the spiritual world and revealing what he had experienced there.
It is not so important what is revealed. What is revealed depends on what can be received.
It is not so important what is revealed. What is revealed depends on what can be received. Take, for example, ancient Greece: insofar as it had its religious ideas through Pythagoreanism, we are again aware that Pythagoras underwent an initiation and was thus able to bring down from the spiritual worlds what he had to incorporate into human consciousness with consideration for the people who were there.
This characterizes the relationship of the religious person to the spiritual world, and this relationship is such that it cannot be conceived of as anything other than a confrontation between the human and the divine worlds. Whether this divine world is seen as pluralistic, a multiplicity of beings, or as a unity, whether polytheism or monotheism is taught, is of little concern to us in this question. The most important thing is that human beings find themselves as human beings confronted with the divine world, which must be revealed to them.
This is also the reason why theology insists so much that human knowledge should not flow into religious ideas. For as soon as human knowledge flows into religious ideas, it is knowledge that must be acquired by humans in superphysical states through growth into the spiritual worlds. It is a kind of intrusion into areas that theology, not religion as such, wants to exclude from influencing the religious ideas of humanity. This is why theologians teach so carefully that there are two paths that theology must avoid. The first is when theology degenerates into theosophy, because this leads people to want to ascend to their God, whom they should only face as human beings. Theologians everywhere teach that theology must not degenerate into theosophy.
The second degeneration, say the theologians, is mysticism, even though they themselves sometimes make small excursions into theosophical or mystical territory. Thus we can quite clearly distinguish all merely religious people from mystics, for the mystic is something different from the merely religious person. The religious person is characterized by the fact that he stands here on earth and enters into a relationship with God, who lies outside his consciousness.
Now we have seen that there are other things present in the human soul life. We have seen that, apart from what we have touched upon today, there is the life of thought in the human soul life, the life that uses the brain as its instrument. In having his ordinary consciousness, man naturally also has his brain, and he also has his world of thoughts. All of this interacts. One cannot exist without the other. Therefore, what we can call human consciousness, the thoughts, the experiences you have when you use the instrument of the brain, all play a part in this.
Religions will therefore always be permeated with thoughts that make use of the instrument of the brain, because if you are a revelator, a founder of a religion, you can speak in such a way that you clothe divine revelations in forms that people can understand when they use the instrument of the brain. Religion can thus be clothed in ideas of the brain. But it can also be clothed in ideas that make use of the instrument of the heart, so that religion can speak either more to the brain or more to the heart. When we compare different religions, we find that some speak more to the intellect, to human experiences that are bound to the brain, while others speak more to the ideas and feelings of the heart and to the life of the mind.
This difference can certainly be observed in the individual religions. But what characterizes all religions is that human beings maintain their ego-consciousness, that human beings remain conscious as human beings. Here on earth, the ego-consciousness is at work, and from outside, that which belongs essentially to the divine supersensible world is at work.
When a person becomes a mystic, the development of the mystic begins most radically with everything connected with ordinary earthly consciousness. What religion as such carefully preserves as long as it remains religion, namely that human beings find themselves dependent on themselves, that they oppose their complete earthly consciousness to the divine world, is broken through by mysticism. All mystics, both pre-Christian and post-Christian, have always endeavored to break through this human consciousness. They always endeavored to ascend into the supersensible worlds, that is, to leave ordinary human earthly consciousness behind and overcome it. This is the characteristic feature of mysticism: the overcoming of ordinary consciousness, living into a state where self-forgetfulness occurs. And when mystics go far enough, this self-forgetfulness should go as far as self-destruction, self-annihilation. The actual mystical states, the raptures, the ecstasy, lead to the annihilation of what human beings call the limitations of their earthly consciousness, in order to grow into the higher.
Because it appears in so many forms, because there are so many kinds of mysticism, it is difficult to form an idea of the nature of mysticism unless one refers to individual examples. It is therefore quite useful to refer to individual examples here as well.
Let us consider that, according to what we have just said, the mystic initially feels called upon to suppress and switch off his ordinary ego-consciousness in order to transcend himself. In doing so, he retains, as you can easily imagine, what human beings otherwise experience as their soul experiences when they use their brain and heart. The mystic wants to switch off consciousness, but in doing so he does not switch off the experiences of the brain and the heart. This already gives you all the possible shades of mysticism. Let us clarify what shades are possible. To make them clear, let us write them down here in a clear list:
Brain experiences
Heart experiences
Experiences of consciousness.
A mystic can therefore have brain experiences and heart experiences. However, consciousness is erased by him. Then the mystic appears to us in such a way that we can say he is going out of himself in ecstasy; but the thoughts and feelings are such that we recognize that he has not yet switched off what is thought and felt through the instruments of the brain and the heart. Such mystics, who have heart and brain experiences, can really only be found if we go back quite far in history, and we find them among those mystics who, after Christianity was established, attempted to ascend mystically to the divine self with the help of Greek-Platonic philosophy. These include, for example, the Neoplatonists Iamblichus and Plotinus. The mystic Scotus Erigena also belongs to this group. And if we do not adhere strictly to the distinction, but include a mystic in whom brain experiences predominate and heart experiences are less significant, we could also include Meister Eckhart in this group of mystics. This would be, so to speak, class A, the mystics with heart and brain experiences.
A. Experiences of the heart, experiences of the brain => Neoplatonists, Scotus Erigena, Meister Eckhart.
A second type of mystic would be those who exclude not only their consciousness but also their brain experiences from their consciousness and retain only those ideas that one has when using only the instrument of the heart. Such mystics usually present themselves to us in such a way that they do not love anything that is thought. They also want to exclude thoughts from consciousness. Only what can be achieved through the instrument of the heart is actually useful to them personally for human development. So there would be mystics who exclude brain experiences and conscious experiences and who try to overcome human consciousness by ecstatically leaving this consciousness, but still maintain a connection with human beings by basing their relationship to the environment on heart experiences.
If you now imagine such a mystic in concrete terms, you can say, for example: If he is an ecstatic, he will want to come out of himself and will love states in which he becomes completely free of himself; but at the same time, if you want to pass on to him that which requires the use of the brain, he will reject it. Whether you tell him something about the higher worlds or about external nature will ultimately be of no importance to him. He will always say: You don't need to know all that; if you establish a relationship with the environment using the instruments of the heart, you can serve humanity very well. Such mystics, who actually allow only the experiences of the heart to speak of all human soul experiences, will not easily be accessible to the particularly complicated ideas gained through occultism; for this always requires at least a little thinking.
For example, when asked if he would like to use a book of psalms because he did not read sacred writings, a mystic replied: Someone who first uses a psalm book will soon want a bigger book, and there is no telling what he will want next when he begins to want to know something about what is clothed in thoughts. This mystic did not want to think about external nature either; he said: Man cannot know anything that he does not already know. — Thus he rejected all knowledge. That would be a mystic with mere heart experiences, belonging to category B. Now, in such a mystic, a kind of economy of soul forces appears to a high degree, because he does not make use of the intellect, of the power of thought. He also excludes consciousness. So when he is in special ecstatic states with the exclusion of human earthly consciousness, such a mystic, because he does not want to comprehend what he sees with his eyes, hears with his ears, in short, perceives with his senses, because he does not consider it necessary to comprehend it, retains many powers to feel in the nature that surrounds us. We can protect ourselves from theology as mystics in the same way that the mystic we are talking about did. Nature therefore surrounds all mystics; but a mystic would also reject science about nature. In this way, he saves the powers he would use to think about nature. He will therefore not study natural science. But because he makes use of the powers of the heart, these will be able to develop more strongly. To a greater extent than a person who uses his powers for the intellect and for his self-consciousness, he will feel and sense through the instrument of his heart what all the beings of nature around him can say to him. Therefore, we can assume that such a mystic has the most pronounced and concrete sense of nature. One such mystic once expressed this sense of nature in the following words, which I would like to share with you so that you can see how life becomes a sense of nature in such a mystic:
Most High, almighty, and gracious Lord!
Praise be to God, the Lord, and all creatures,
Yours is the praise, glory, honor, and every blessing.
They belong to you alone;
no human being is worthy to name you.
especially our noble brother, the sun,
which brings the day and shines upon us with its light.
It is beautiful and radiant in its great splendor;
it is a sign of you, O Lord.Praise be to God, the Lord,
for our sister, the moon,
and also for all the stars;
which he has made in the heavens
and makes them appear in beauty and brightness.Praise be to God, the Lord,
for our brothers, for the wind,
for the air and the clouds,
for the sake of the cheerful and all times,
through which he wants to preserve all creatures.Praise be to God, the Lord,
for our sister, water,
which is so useful and humble
and also delicious and chaste.Praise be to God, our Lord,
for our brother, fire,
through whom he gives us the night,
and who is so beautiful and joyful
and so strong and powerful.Praise be to God, our Lord,
for our mother, the earth;
who gives us bread for our sustenance
and many fruits for our enjoyment
and all kinds of flowers for the beauty of the earth.
You see, here everything has emerged from self-awareness, and one can therefore say that it is the intoxicating emotional power of the heart, permeated by what cannot be perceived by the eye or the senses—for the person concerned is a mystic—but rather what the soul feels when it does not become part of its experience, when it merges with the divine in nature. But when this becomes part of a person, then they can have that feeling for nature of which Goethe speaks so beautifully in Faust:
Sublime spirit, you gave me, gave me everything,
Why I asked. You didn't tell me.
Your face turned toward the fire.
You gave me the glorious natural world as my kingdom,
The power to feel it, to enjoy it. Not
Coldly allowing only astonished visitors,
You grant me to look into its deep bosom
As into the bosom of a friend.
You lead the procession of the living
past me and teach me to know my brothers
in the silent bush, in the air and in the water...
Here you have an echo of a feeling whose mystery has just been revealed. And when we look at Faust, this becomes part of his inner life. But here you also have the mystic, in whom this one side, this one element of human experience outshines everything else, and who stands in such opposition to nature that the sun becomes his brother, the moon his sister, water his sister, fire his brother, the earth his mother, that he feels its spiritual nature in this way. Here you have the stepping out of ordinary human consciousness and at the same time the preservation of all those soul experiences that can be experienced through the instrument of the heart. This is the mystic you all know: Francis of Assisi.
In him we have a very special example of a mystic who really behaved in such a way that he rejected all theology as external knowledge and also all knowledge of supersensible things for the incarnation in which Francis of Assisi lived at that time. What therefore emerges so great and powerful in him is the merging with the spirit of nature. However, it is not like a pantheistic spirituality, which always has something of a refined sentiment, of affectation; it is not that he raves and sings about a general spirit in nature, but rather about the concrete feelings of a childlike, brotherly, sisterly nature that pervade his soul when he encounters the beings of nature.
B. Heart experiences => Francis of Assisi.
People who seek ecstasy, that is, the loss of their self-consciousness or the darkening of their self-consciousness, and who, for certain states, exclude those soul experiences that make use of the instrument of the heart, but retain the thoughts, the experiences of the brain, are often not referred to as mystics in everyday language, because a mystic is usually expected to have experiences of things that are permeated by feelings. You can easily imagine why this is so. Imagine a person who has pushed all personal self-consciousness out of their soul experiences. Then it is precisely the case with this person that they lack what most people find interesting in other people, namely personality. People are interested in each other because of their personality.
Now, what we call heart experiences still have such a personal touch when they come to us as they did with Francis of Assisi, and still have such compelling power over what is generally human, that our consciousness remains awake, so that we still follow him with interest, but not so much with our will. This is also true of ordinary life in the order of things, especially in the present, for not everyone in the present can become like Francis of Assisi. The universality of the heart, that which can be consciously perceived, overwhelms people even if the personal aspect is dulled. This suppression and extinguishing of consciousness, this dullness in a mystic such as Francis of Assisi, leads on the one hand, as you know, to radicalism, and on the other hand, it prevents people, even if they are interested in him, from following his example. People usually do not want to leave their consciousness because they feel that they lose the ground beneath their feet when they do so.
But now think about it: if there could be a mystic who completely excluded all personal consciousness and, moreover, all heartfelt experiences. He would give people something that is only pure thoughts, thoughts, ideas that only use the instrument of the brain. As a rule, people will not be able to live in such a state. One can be a Francis of Assisi to a large extent because what is experienced as heart experiences is really applicable in a general human way. Someone who suppresses the experiences of the heart in addition to his consciousness, his personal ego-consciousness, and lives only in thoughts, expressing only what is bound to the human brain, will first have to devote himself to this activity at certain, one might say, solemn moments of his life. For life always calls us back to the personal on earth; and someone who lives only in their thoughts, who uses only their brain, could not perform any earthly activity. Therefore, it can only be for a short time, only for those moments when one can use only one's brain. But for other people, even spending a moment with such a person would be so unpleasant that they would run away from him. What interests people most are personal experiences. But he suppresses these. He also gives up the overwhelming nature of heart experiences. And so people run away in droves, that is, they have no desire whatsoever to approach him.
Such a mystic is the philosopher Hegel, of whom I have already spoken to you. What he offers is deliberately intended to exclude all personal, conscious points of view and all heartfelt experiences. It is supposed to be mere contemplation of thought, so that we have to name Hegel as an example of a mystic with mere brain experiences in the most eminent sense. Such a person leads us, so to speak, up into the purest etheric heights of thought. For while in ordinary life human beings have only thoughts that are rooted in personal interest and self-consciousness and are permeated and imbued with them, precisely this must be excluded in such a philosophical mystic. And such a mystic also excludes that which makes the spiritual desirable by playing into the experiences of the heart. He devotes himself with majestic resignation to the course of mere brain experiences. He therefore has only thoughts of all that the human heart can experience.
This is what annoys most people so much about Hegel, that he has nothing that reminds us of heart experiences, but presents all things only in thought images. Most people feel cold and desolate when they find what they love in their hearts crystallized in Hegel's cold thoughts. And that in which personality is rooted, that which anchors human beings in earthly life, self-consciousness, ego-consciousness, Hegel has only as a thought. Hegel naturally also devotes his attention to the ego, because it is the thought of a particularly important experience, the experience of the ego. He does that. But it remains a mental image, and Hegel is not imbued with the liveliness and immediacy of the human personality that are rooted in self-consciousness.
C. Brain experiences => Hegel.
Then we have another possibility of a mystic. This would be the mystic who would now exclude all three things: earthly consciousness, heart experiences, and brain experiences. So we would have the mystic D, who would exclude all human earthly experiences of the soul from himself. You can imagine that this is extremely difficult. It is something that is self-evident for occultists — and we will speak about this in detail in the next few days — that they raise themselves to states where everything that is bound to the instrument of the brain and also to the instrument of the heart is excluded, insofar as these are earthly forces and insofar as they make use of consciousness. This is something that is taken for granted by practical occultists who ascend to the higher worlds. But then the practical occultist begins to live and experience the supersensible world; and while he has extinguished everything that connects him to the world surrounding earthly human beings, he has the higher world around him. He thus steps out of something and into something else. The mystic, however, who excludes all three of these experiences that make use of earthly instruments, will not enter into anything that can fall into his consciousness. Of course, he does not enter into nothingness, for outside our consciousness there is the divine-spiritual supersensible world. But he does not enter it in the same way as the occultist, who then experiences the inexpressible word, the supernatural light. Instead, he suppresses his consciousness, he suppresses all the forces within him, and finally feels only how, after suppressing all these human experiences, he is united with something and then is within it.
Then something begins that actually affects him like the extinction of consciousness, like the extinction of all earthly experiences, like a marriage with something that is felt and sensed, that is absorbed in intoxication, with which one unites in rapture and ecstasy, but which cannot be communicated because it is not experienced in a particular way, in concrete experiences.
When we speak later about occultism, we will see that it would be disastrous if human beings were to uproot all three kinds of experience, namely brain, heart, and consciousness experiences, from themselves at the same time. Then they would become mystics who, after the so-called union [with the divine], in ecstasy, would be like a sleeping person who unites with the divine in sleep but knows nothing about it, does not even have a feeling that they are united with the divine. If the mystic wants to retain at least a living sensation and a feeling of union with the divine, he must successively erase these individual personal experiences.
This brings us to an example of a mystic who can show us this, a personality who actually followed this path and, in a sense, also recommended it for imitation in his contemplations; a personality who first strove with all his might to overcome the personal self-consciousness that was to be suppressed and extinguished. In the process, the powers of the heart and mind and the intellect remained active. The next thing to be overcome by the personality was the powers of the intellect, and the last were the powers of the heart. The fact that the powers of the heart were the last to remain meant that stepping into the world that lies outside consciousness was felt particularly strongly and intensely. In this order, then, things were overcome: first consciousness, then brain experiences, and lastly heart experiences.
It is very characteristic that this personality, who actually went through such a mystical path in the most regular way, is a woman. Indeed, in the field of theosophy, one cannot be misunderstood in such matters; things must be taken objectively. It is actually easier for a woman, because, as we will learn from other things, it is a peculiarity of female nature that it is easier for her to overcome herself, that is, all soul experiences. The woman who has experienced mysticism in the regular manner described, so that she has successively extinguished and eradicated from herself the soul experiences bound to the instruments of the brain and the heart, and then felt the connection with the divine spirit as a marriage, as an embrace, is Saint Teresa.
D. — => Saint Teresa.
If you follow the life of Saint Teresa and view it on the basis of such considerations as we have made today about understanding mysticism in human beings, then you will say that such a mystic can only be an extraordinary exception. It is much more common for individual soul experiences not to be overcome with such purity and strength as in Saint Teresa, but only partially, with some part of them remaining.
This actually gives us three types of mystics. We have those mystics who want to overcome everything that lives in them as soul experiences, but in whom mainly those experiences remain that are bound to the brain. Such mystics are, as a rule, one might say — if one does not understand the word trivially — natures that one will address in the highest sense of the word as practical, wise people; as people who are well versed in life because they use their brains, and who, because they have suppressed the personal to a high degree, also appear sympathetic in their impersonal nature.
Such mystics exist when the people concerned have tried to overcome everything, but have succeeded only to a limited extent in overcoming their heart experiences. Notice the difference between such mystics and mystics such as Francis of Assisi, who did not strive to overcome the experiences of the heart, but retained them in their entirety, and therefore also retained them in full health. This is the majestic greatness of Francis of Assisi, that his heart spread out over his entire soul. I am not referring to mystics of this kind, who do not strive to overcome the experiences of the heart. I am talking rather about those who actually strive to overcome the experiences of the heart, who struggle with all their might to suppress them, but who do not succeed. In these people, we do not find the extraordinary marriage with the supersensible-spiritual that we encountered in St. Teresa. In these mystics, who have strived to transcend everything personal, human, and earthly, yet have preserved themselves to an outstanding degree, we find experiences that are bound to the heart, so that something very limited in human terms is mixed into their striving. It is then really the case that this marriage, this being embraced by a divine spirit, is very similar to the feelings of love, the instincts of love, of human nature in ordinary life.
You will find plenty of such mystics who love their God or their divine world, as one loves something human, if you leaf through the history of the saints, the history of monks and nuns. There you will see how many of these holy mystics are in love with the Madonna with a completely human fervor, one might say with human love, who becomes for them a substitute for a human woman. Or how nuns are in love with their Christ-bridegroom with all the feelings of earthly human love. This is a chapter that is psychologically very interesting, even if it does not always strike one as sympathetic; it is a chapter about ecclesiastical-religious mystics who strive for what has just been described but cannot achieve it because human nature holds them back.
Then we come to a type of mystic who is similar to St. Hildegard, who has quite beautiful dispositions, but also something of the ordinary earthly instinct, which then mixes into her mystical experience, into her mystical feelings. They already enter into an experience that is very similar to the erotic experience, into mystical eroticism, which you can see in the history of mystics when they speak in their heartfelt outpourings of their soul mate, of their passionate love for the bridegroom Jesus or the like.
Such mystical personalities are easiest to tolerate when they have retained a good deal of ordinary human consciousness, when they are always able to rise above their mystical experience with their human personality, so to speak, when a little humor and irony enters their consciousness, when they look at themselves and see that they have not overcome but that there is still something human in them. This gives the matter a personal touch and makes it less unsympathetic, because it lacks a certain trait in the desired but unattainable overcoming of all heartfelt experiences. What is unsympathetic is precisely that the person strives to achieve something but cannot achieve it and is held back by the very thing he most wants to overcome. This gives the whole thing a certain unsympathetic trait, which is perceived as hypocrisy or insincerity, because asceticism is used as a detour to replace the non-conquest of what is lived out in ordinary human instincts. On the other hand, when this trait is accompanied by irony and humor, and the person concerned also has moments in which he makes use of his ordinary human consciousness and looks at himself, when he alternates his mystical moments with moments in which he tells the truth from the ordinary human point of view, then the whole thing gains sympathy, as is the case when we follow a mystical personality such as Mechthild of Magdeburg.
Mechthild of Magdeburg shows precisely this difference from personalities similar to her in that she has the passionate eroticism of the divine-spiritual, but also expresses herself with a certain touch of humor about her divine woman Minne or her divine Minne in general, as one might speak of human love. She does not clothe this in high-sounding words, but speaks of it in such a way that there is always a touch of irony. It is different when we read something of what St. Hildegard says in her writings, which are not entirely free of this, or the writings of highly esteemed mystics themselves. This is the difference between such personalities, who have not yet overcome the human-personal consciousness, and Mechthild of Magdeburg, who feels herself passionately drawn to the limits of the divine-spiritual and speaks truly sincerely, so that she does not describe what is still heartfelt eroticism with the expression of religious ecstasy, but speaks of religious love. For it must be the same when she speaks of the woman Minne, by whom she means her divine bridegroom.
So here, too, you have all kinds of nuances. The last one was a nuance where strong heartfelt experiences are present, but something has remained that can be called personal consciousness. In short, mysticism is something that has an enormous number of shades. And we have not even touched on what we are yet to discuss, which is referred to as the oldest Greek mysticism, as you will find it described in my book “Christianity as Mystical Fact.” We have not yet penetrated this mysticism with today's nuances. But today's nuances have taught us one thing, namely that all mystics strive to go beyond the ordinary personal ego-consciousness, to extinguish it, and that if man does not want to lose the ground beneath his feet, another consciousness must emerge. This is the essence of mystics: that they—having reached the limits of the spiritual—still perceive the divine-spiritual as a marriage, but do not enter into the world of the divine-spiritual. They cast off the consciousness that is trained on external objects and always needs an external object. It is the striving of mystics to cast off this consciousness. The mystic wants to go beyond himself. But if man wants to consciously experience what can be experienced through the experiences of the inexpressible word and the unrevealed light, it is clear that he must experience it in a new, different consciousness. Therefore, if the mystic wants to become an occultist, he must not only give up negative striving, but also be concerned with developing a different, higher consciousness, namely consciousness without a conscious object.
Tomorrow we will talk more about this higher consciousness, which the occultist must enter into.
A. Experiences of the heart, experiences of the brain => Neoplatonists, Scotus Erigena, Meister Eckhart.
B. Experiences of the heart => Francis of Assisi. C. Experiences of the brain => Hegel. D. — => Saint Teresa.