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Between Death and Rebirth
GA 141

3 December 1912, Berlin

Lecture III

From what has already been indicated about the life between death and the new birth you will recall that during that period a human being continues, to begin with, to live in conditions and with relationships he himself prepared during his existence on Earth. It was said that when we again encounter some personality in the spiritual world after death, the relationship between us is, at first, the same as was formed during our existence on Earth and we cannot, for the time being, change it at all. Thus if in the spiritual world we come into contact with a friend or an individual who has predeceased us, and to whom we owed a debt of love but during life withheld that love from him, we shall now have to experience again the relationship that existed before death because of the lack of love of which we were guilty. We confront the person in question in the way described in the last lecture, beholding and experiencing over and over again the circumstances created during the life before our death. For instance, if at some particular time, say ten years before the death of the person in question, or before our own death, we allowed the relationship caused by our self-incurred debt of love to be established, we shall have to live through the relationship for a corresponding length of time after death and only after that period has elapsed shall we be able to experience once again, during our life after death, the happier relationship previously existing between us. It is important to realise that after death we are not in a position to expunge or change relationships for which we had been responsible on Earth. To a certain extent change has become impossible.

It might easily be believed that this is inevitably a painful experience and can only be regarded as suffering. But that would be judging from the standpoint of our limited earthly circumstances. Viewed from the spiritual world things look different in many respects. It is true that in the life between death and the new birth the individual concerned must undergo all the suffering resulting from the admission: I am now in the spiritual world and realise the wrong I committed, but I cannot rectify it and must rely upon conditions to bring about a change. An individual who is aware of this undergoes the pain connected with the experience, but he also knows that it must be so and that it would be detrimental for his further development if it were otherwise, if he could not learn from the experience resulting from such suffering. For through experiencing such conditions and recognising that they cannot be changed we acquire the power to change them in our later karma. The technique of karma enables these conditions to be changed during another physical incarnation. There is only the remotest possibility that the dead himself can change them. Above all during the first period after death, during the time in Kamaloka, an individual sees what has been determined by his life before death, but to begin with he must leave it as it is; he is unable to bring about any change in what he experiences.

Those who have remained behind on Earth have a far greater influence on the dead than the dead has on himself or others who have also died have upon him. And this is tremendously important. It is really only an individual who has remained on the physical plane, who had established some relationship with the dead, who through human will is able to bring about certain changes in the conditions of souls between death and rebirth.

We will now take an example that can be instructive in many respects. Here we can also consider the life in Kamaloka, for the existing relationships do not change when the transition takes place into the period of Devachan. Let us think of two friends living on Earth, one of whom comes into contact with Anthroposophy at a certain time in his life and becomes an anthroposophist. It may happen that because of this, his friend rages against Anthroposophy. You may have known such a case. If the friend had been the first to find Anthroposophy he might himself have become a very good adherent. Such things certainly happen but we must realise that they are very often clothed in maya. Consequently it may happen that the one who rages against Anthroposophy because his friend has become an adherent is raging in his surface consciousness only, in his Ego-consciousness. In his astral consciousness, in his subconsciousness he may very likely not share in the antipathy. Without realising it he may even be longing for Anthroposophy. In many cases it happens that aversion in the upper consciousness takes the form of longing in the subconsciousness. It does not necessarily follow that an individual feels exactly what he expresses in his upper consciousness. After death we do not experience only the effects of the contents of our upper consciousness, our Ego-consciousness. To believe that would be to misunderstand entirely the conditions prevailing after death. It has often been said that although a human being casts off physical body and etheric body at death, his longings and desires remain. Nor need these longings and desires be only those of which he was actually aware. The longings and desires that were in his sub-consciousness, they too remain, including those of which he has no conscious knowledge or may even have resisted. They are often much stronger and more intense after death than they were in life. During life a certain disharmony between the astral body and the ‘I’ expresses itself as a feeling of depression, dissatisfaction with oneself. After death, the astral consciousness is an indication of the whole character of the soul, the whole stamp of the individual concerned. So what we experience in our upper consciousness is less significant than all those hidden wishes, desires and passions which are present in the soul's depths and of which the ‘I’ knows nothing.

In the case mentioned, let us suppose that the man who denounces Anthroposophy because his friend has become an adherent passes through the gate of death. The longing for Anthroposophy, which may have developed precisely because of his violent opposition, now asserts itself and becomes an intense wish for Anthroposophy. This wish would have to remain unfulfilled, for it could hardly happen that after death he himself would have an opportunity of satisfying it. But through a particular concatenation of circumstances in such a case, the one who is on Earth may be able to help the other and change something in his conditions. This is the kind of case that may frequently be observed in our own ranks.

We can, for instance, read to the one who has died. The way to do this is to picture him vividly there in front of us; we picture his features and go through with him in thought the content, for example, of an anthroposophical book. This need only be done in thought and it has a direct effect upon the one who has died. As long as he is in the stage of Kamaloka, language is no hindrance; it becomes a hindrance only when he has passed into Devachan. Hence the question as to whether the dead understands language need not be raised. During the period of Kamaloka a feeling for language is certainly present. In this practical way very active help can be given to one who has passed through the gate of death. What streams up from the physical plane is something that can be a factor in bringing about a change in the conditions of life between death and the new birth; but such help can only be given to the dead from the physical world, not directly from the spiritual world.

We realise from this that when Anthroposophy actually finds its way into the hearts of men it will in very truth bridge the gap between the physical and the spiritual worlds, and that will constitute its infinite value in life. Only a very elementary stage in anthroposophical development has been reached when it is thought that what is of main importance is to acquire certain concepts and ideas about the members of man's constitution or about what can come to him from the spiritual world. The bridge between the physical world and the spiritual world cannot be built until we realise that Anthroposophy takes hold of our very life. We shall then no longer adopt a merely passive attitude towards those who have passed through the gate of death but shall establish active contact with them and be able to help them. To this end Anthroposophy must make us conscious of the fact that our world consists of physical existence and superphysical, spiritual existence; furthermore that man is on Earth not only to gather for himself the fruits of physical existence between birth and death but that he is on Earth in order to send up into the superphysical world what can be gained and can exist only on the physical plane. If for some justifiable reason or, let us say, for the sake of comfort, a man has kept aloof from anthroposophical ideas, we can bring them to him after death in the way described. Maybe someone will ask: Is it possible that this will annoy the dead, that he does not want it? This question is not entirely justifiable because human beings of the present age are by no means particularly opposed to Anthroposophy in their subconsciousness. If the subconsciousness of those who denounce Anthroposophy could have a voice in their upper consciousness, there would be hardly any opposition to it. For people are prejudiced and biased against the spiritual world only in their Ego-consciousness, only in what expresses itself as Ego-consciousness on the physical plane.

This is one aspect of mediation between the physical world and the spiritual world. But we can also ask: Is mediation also possible in the other direction, from the spiritual to the physical world? That is to say, can the one who has passed through the gate of death communicate in some way with those who have remained on the physical plane? At the present time the possibility of this is very slight because on the physical plane human beings live for the most part in their Ego-consciousness only and not in the consciousness connected with the astral body. It is not so easy to convey an idea of how men will gradually develop consciousness of what surrounds them as an astral or devachanic or other spiritual world. But if Anthroposophy acquires greater influence in the evolution of humanity, this will eventually come about. Simply through paying attention to the teachings of Anthroposophy men will find the ways and means to break through the boundaries of the physical world and direct attention to the spiritual world that is round about them and eludes them only because they pay no heed to it.

How can we become aware of this spiritual world?

Today I want to make you aware of how little a man really knows about the things of the world surrounding him. He knows very little indeed of what is of essential importance in that world. Through his senses and intellect he gets to know and recognise the ordinary facts of life in which he is involved. He gets to know what is going on both in the world and in himself, establishes some kind of association between these happenings, calls the one ‘cause’ and the other ‘effect’ and then, having ascertained some connection based either upon cause and effect or some other concept, thinks he understands the processes that are in operation. To take an example: We leave our home at eight o’clock in the morning, walk along the street, reach our place of work, have a meal during the day, do this or that to amuse ourselves. This goes on until the time comes for sleep. We then connect our various experiences; one makes a strong impression upon us, another a weaker impression. Effects are also produced in our soul, either of sympathy or antipathy. Even trifling reflection can teach us that we are living as it were on the surface of a sea without the faintest idea of what is down below on the sea's bed. As we pass through life we get to know external reality only. But an example will show that a very great deal is implicit in this external reality. Suppose one day we leave home three minutes later than usual and arrive at work three minutes late; after that we carry on just as if we had left home at the usual time. Nevertheless it may be possible to verify that had we been in the street punctually at eight o'clock we might have been run over by a car and killed; if we had left home punctually we should no longer be alive. Or on another occasion we may hear of an accident to a train in which we should have been travelling and thus have been injured. This is an even more radical example of what I just said. We pay attention only to what actually happens, not to what may be continually happening and which we have escaped. The range of such possibilities is infinitely greater than that of actual happenings.

It may be said that this happening had no significance for our outer life. For our inner life, however, it is certainly of importance. Suppose, for instance, you had bought a ticket for a voyage in the Titanic but were dissuaded by a friend from travelling. You sold the ticket and then heard of the disaster. Would your experience have been the same as if you had never been involved? Would it not far rather have made a most striking impression upon you? If we knew from how many things we are protected in the world, how many things are possible for good or for ill, things which are converging and only through slight displacement do not meet, we should have a sensitive perception of experiences of happiness or unhappiness, of bodily experiences which are possible for us but which simply do not come our way. Who among all of you sitting here can know what you would have experienced if, for example, the lecture this evening had been cancelled and you had been somewhere else. If you had known about the cancellation your attitude of mind would be quite different from what it now is, because you have no idea of what might conceivably have happened.

All these possibilities which do not become reality on the physical plane exist as forces and effects behind the physical world in the spiritual world and reverberate through it. It is not only the forces which actually determine our life on the physical plane that stream down upon us but also the measureless abundance of forces which exist only as possibilities, some of which seldom make their way into our physical consciousness. But when they do, this usually gives rise to a significant experience. Do not say that what has been stated, namely that numberless possibilities exist, that for example this lecture might have been cancelled, in which case those sitting here would have had different experiences—do not say that this invalidates karma. It does nothing of the kind. If such a thing were said it would imply ignorance of the fact that the idea of karma just presented holds good only for the world of realities within the physical life of men. The truth is that the spiritual life permeates our physical life and there is a world of possibilities where the laws operating as karmic laws are quite different. If we could feel what a tiny part of what we might have experienced is represented by the physical realities and that our actual experiences are only a fractional part of the possibilities, the infinite wealth and exuberance of the spiritual life behind our physical life would be obvious to us.

Now the following may happen. A man may take serious account in his thoughts of this world of possibilities or perhaps not in his thoughts but only in his feelings. He may realise that he would probably have been killed in an accident to a train which he happened to miss. This may make a deep impression upon him and such happenings are able as it were to open the soul to the spiritual world. Occasions such as this with which we are in some way connected may actually reveal to us wishes or thoughts of souls living between death and the new birth.

When Anthroposophy wakens in men a feeling for possibilities in life, for occurrences or catastrophes which did not take place simply because something that might have happened did not do so, and when the soul abides firmly by this feeling, experiences conveyed by individuals with whom there had been a connection in the physical world may be received from the spiritual world.

Although during the hurry and bustle of daily life people are for the most part disinclined to give rein to feelings of what might have happened, nevertheless there are times in life when events that might have happened have a decisive influence upon the soul. If you were to observe your dream-life more closely, or the strange moments of transition from waking life to sleep or from sleep to waking life, if you were to observe with greater exactitude certain dreams which are often quite inexplicable, in which certain things that happen to you appear in a dream-picture or vision, you would find that these inexplicable pictures indicate something that might have happened and was prevented only because other conditions, or hindrances. intervened. A person who through meditation or some other means makes his thinking more mobile, will have moments in his waking life during which he will feel that he is living in a world of possibilities; this may not be in the form of definite ideas but of feelings. If he develops such feelings he is preparing himself to receive from the spiritual world impressions from human beings who were connected with him in the physical world. Such influences then manifest as genuine dream-experiences which have meaning and point to some reality in the spiritual world. In teaching us that in the life between birth and death karma holds sway, Anthroposophy makes it quite clear that wherever we are placed in life we are faced perpetually with an infinite number of possibilities. One of these possibilities is selected in accordance with the law of karma; the others remain in the background, surrounding us like a cosmic aura. The more deeply we believe in karma, the more firmly we shall also believe in the existence of this cosmic aura which surrounds us and is produced by forces which converge but have been displaced in a certain way, so that they do not manifest on the physical plane.

If we allow our hearts and minds to be influenced by Anthroposophy, this will be a means of educating humanity to be receptive to impressions coming from the spiritual world. If, therefore, Anthroposophy succeeds in making a real effect upon culture, upon spiritual life, influences will not only rise up from physical life into the spiritual world but the experiences undergone by the dead during their life between death and the new birth will flow back. Thus here again the gulf between the physical and the spiritual worlds will be bridged. The consequence will be a tremendous widening of human life and we shall see the purpose of Anthroposophy fulfilled in the creation of an actual link between the two worlds, not merely a theoretical conception of the existence of a spiritual world. It is essential to realise that Anthroposophy fulfils its task in the real sense only when it permeates the souls of men as a living force and when by its means we not only comprehend something intellectually but our whole attitude and relationship to the world around us is changed.

Because of the preconceptions current in our times, man's thinking is far too materialistic, even if he often believes in the existence of a spiritual world. Hence it is extremely difficult for him in the present age to picture the right relationship between soul and body. The habits of thought peculiar to the times tend to make him picture the life of soul as being connected too closely with the bodily constitution. An analogy may be the only means of helping to clarify what must be understood here.

If we examine a watch we see that it consists of wheels and other little metal parts. But do we look at our watch in the course of everyday life in order to study the works or the interplay of the wheels? No, we look at our watch in order to find out the time; but time has nothing whatever to do with any of the metal parts or wheels. We look at the watch and do not trouble about what there is to be seen inside the watch itself. Or let us take another example. When somebody speaks of telegraphing today he has the electric apparatus in mind. But even before electric telegraphy was invented, telegraphing went on. Provided the right signs, etc. are known it would be possible for people to speak from one town to another without any electric telegraph—and perhaps the process would not be very much slower. Suppose, for instance, pillars or poles were erected along the highway between Berlin and Paris and a man posted on the top of each pole to pass on the appropriate signs. If that were done quickly enough there would be no difference between this method and what is done by means of the electric telegraph. Certainly the latter is the simpler and much quicker method but the actual process of telegraphing has as little to do with the mechanism of the electric telegraph as time has to do with the works in a watch.

Now the human soul has just as much and just as little to do with the processes of the human body as the communication from Berlin to Paris has to do with the mechanism of the electric telegraph. It is only when we think in this way that we can have a true conception of the independence of the soul. For it would be perfectly possible for this human soul with all its content to make use of a differently formed body, just as the message from Berlin to Paris could be sent by means other than the electric telegraph. The electric telegraph merely happens to be the most convenient way of sending messages, given the conditions of our present existence, and in the same sense the body with its possibility of movement and the head above provides the most convenient means, in the conditions of our existence on Earth, for the soul to express itself. But it is simply not the case that the body as such has anything more directly to do with the life of the soul than the electric telegraph with its mechanism has directly to do with the transmission of a communication from Berlin to Paris, or a watch with time. It would be possible to devise an instrument quite different from our watches for measuring time. Similarly it is possible to conceive of a body—quite different from the one we use in the conditions prevailing on Earth—that would enable the soul to express itself.

How are we to picture the relation of the human soul to the body? A saying of Schiller, applied to man, is particularly relevant here: “If you are seeking for the highest and the best, the plant can teach it to you.” We look at the plant which spreads out its leaves and opens its blossoms during the day and draws them in when the light fades. That which streams to the plant from the sun and the stars has been withdrawn. But it is what comes from the sun that enables the leaves to open again and the blossom to unfold Out yonder in cosmic space, therefore, are the forces which cause the organs of the plant to fold up limply when they withdraw or unfold when they are active. What is brought about in the plant by cosmic forces is brought about in the human being by his own Ego and astral body. When does a human being allow his limbs to relax and his eyelids to close like the plant when it draws in its leaves and blossoms? When his Ego and astral body leave his bodily organism. What the sun does to the plant, the Ego and astral body do to the organs of the human being. Hence we can say: the plant's body must turn to the sun as man's body must turn to the Ego and astral body and we must think of these members of his being as having the same effect upon him as the sun has upon the plant.

Even externally considered, will it still surprise you to know what occult investigation reveals, namely that the Ego and astral body originate from the cosmic sphere to which the sun belongs and do not belong to the Earth at all? Nor will you be surprised, after what has been said in previous lectures, to realise that when human beings leave the Earth, either in sleep or at death, they pass into the conditions prevailing in the Cosmos. The plant is still dependent upon the sun and the forces operating in space. The Ego and the astral body of man have made themselves independent of the forces in space and go their own way. A plant is bound to sleep when the sunlight withdraws; in respect of his Ego and astral body, however, man is independent of the sun and planets which are his real home, and for this reason he is able to sleep by day, even when the sun is shining. In his Ego and astral body man has emancipated himself from that with which he is really united—namely the forces of the sun and stars. Therefore it is not grotesque to say that what remains of man on the Earth and in its elements after death belongs to the Earth and to its forces; but the Ego and astral body belong to the forces of the Cosmos. After the death of the human being Ego and astral body return to those cosmic forces and pass through the life between death and rebirth within their spheres. During the period on Earth between birth and death, while the soul is living in a physical body, the life of soul which strictly belongs to the sun and the stars has no more to do with this physical body than time as such—which is in reality conditioned by the solar and stellar constellations—has to do with the watch and its mechanism of wheels. It is quite conceivable that if, instead of living on the Earth, we were born on some other planet, our soul would be adapted to a quite different planetary existence. The particular formation of our eyes and ears is not attributable to the soul but to the conditions prevailing on the Earth. All we do is to make use of these organs. If we make ourselves consciously aware of the fact that with our soul we belong to the world of the stars, we shall have taken a first step towards a real understanding of our relationships as human beings and our true human nature. This knowledge will help us to adopt the right attitude to our conditions of existence here on Earth. To establish even this more or less external relationship to our physical body or etheric body will give us a sense of security. We shall realise that we are not merely beings of the Earth but belong to the whole Universe, to the Macrocosm, that we live within the Macrocosm. It is only because a man here on Earth is bound to his body that he is not conscious of his connection with the forces of the great Universe.

Wherever and whenever in the course of the ages a deepening of the spiritual life was achieved, efforts were made to bring this home to the souls of men. In point of fact it is only during the last four centuries that man has lost this consciousness of his connection with the spiritual forces weaving and holding sway in cosmic space. Think of what has always been emphasised: that Christ is the great Sun-Being who through the Mystery of Golgotha has united Himself with the Earth and its forces and has thus made it possible for man to take into himself the Christ-force on Earth; permeation with the Christ Impulse will include the impulses of the Macrocosm and in every epoch of evolution it will be right to recognise in Christ the power that imparts feeling of kinship with the Macrocosm.

In the twelfth century a story, a splendid allegory, became current in the West. It was as follows: Once upon a time there was a girl who had several brothers, all of whom were as poor as church mice. One day the girl found a pearl, thereby becoming the possessor of great treasure. All the brothers were determined to share the wealth that had come her way. The first brother was a painter and he said to the girl: “I will paint for you the finest picture ever known if you will let me share your wealth.” But the girl would have nothing to do with him and sent him away. The second brother was a musician. He promised the girl that he would compose the most beautiful piece of music if she would let him share her wealth. But she sent him away. The third brother was an apothecary and, as was customary in the Middle Ages, dealt chiefly in perfumes and other goods that were not remedial herbs but quite useful in life! This brother promised to give the girl the most fragrant scent in the world if she would let him share her wealth. But she sent this brother away too. The fourth brother was a cook. He promised the girl that he would cook such good dishes for her that by eating them she would get a brain equal to that of Zeus and would be able to enjoy the very tastiest food. But she rejected him too. The fifth brother was an innkeeper (Wirt) and he promised to find the most desirable suitors for her if she would let him share her wealth. She rejected him too. Finally, or so the story tells, came one who was able to find his way to the girl's soul, and with him she shared her treasure, the pearl she had found.

The story is graphically told and it has been narrated in greater detail and even more beautifully by Jakob Balde,1Jakob Balde, born in Ensisheim, Upper Alsace, 4th January, 1604, died 9th August, 1668. Entered the Order of Jesuits in 1624. Was widely acclaimed during his life but after his death was neglected as a poet until the end of the eighteenth century. Herder translated many of Balde's lyrics and brought his genius to the notice of scholars. a lyric poet of the seventeenth century. There is also an exposition dating from the thirteenth century by the poet himself, so it cannot be called a mere interpretation. The poet says that he had wanted to portray the human being and the free will. The girl represents the human soul endowed with free will. The five brothers are the five senses: the painter is the sense of sight, the musician the sense of hearing, the apothecary the sense of smell, the cook the sense of taste, the innkeeper the sense of touch. The girl rejects them all, in order, so the story tells, to share her treasure of free will with the one with whom her soul has true affinity—with Christ. She rejects the attractions of the senses in order to receive that to which the Christ Impulse leads when it permeates the soul. The independence of the life of the soul—the soul that is born of the Spirit and has its home in the Spirit—is beautifully contrasted with what is born of the Earth, namely the senses and all that exists solely in order to provide a habitation—an earthly body—for the soul.

In order that a beginning may be made in the matter of showing that right thinking can lead beyond the things of everyday life, it will now be shown how reliable and well-founded are the findings of occult investigation when the investigator knows from his own direct vision of the spiritual world that the Ego and astral body of man belong to the world of the stars. When we consider how man is related to those members of his being which remain together during sleep, how this condition is independent of the world of the stars, as indicated by the fact that a man can also sleep in the daytime, and if we then make a comparison with the plant and the sunlight, we can be convinced of the validity of occult investigations. It is a matter of recognising the confirmations which can actually be found in the world. When someone asserts that the findings of occult research lack any real foundation, this is only a sign that he has not paid attention to everything that can be gathered from the external world and lead to knowledge. Admittedly this often calls for great energy and freedom from bias—qualities that are not always put into practice. But it may well be insisted that someone who genuinely investigates the spiritual world and then passes on the results of his investigation to the world, passes it on, presumably, to sound judgement. Genuine occult research is not afraid of intelligent criticism; it objects only to superficial criticism which is not, properly speaking, criticism at all.

If you now recall how the whole course of the evolution of humanity has been described, from the Old Saturn period, through the periods of Old Sun and Old Moon up to our Earth period, you will remember that during the Old Moon period a separation took place; a second separation occurred again during the Earth period, one of the consequences being that the life of soul and the bodily life are more widely separated from each other than was the case during the Old Sun period. As a consequence of the separation of the Moon from the Sun already during the Old Moon period, man's soul became more independent. At that time, in certain intervals between incarnations, the element of soul forced its way out into the Macrocosm and made itself independent. This brought about those conditions in the evolution of the Earth which resulted in the separation of the Sun from the Earth and later of the Moon, during the Lemurian epoch. As a consequence, a host of individual human souls, as described in detail in the book Occult Science—an Outline,2See PP. 177–9 in the translation by George and Mary Adams, Rudolf Steiner Press, 1963. pressed outwards in order to undergo particular destinies while separated from the Earth, returning only at a later time. Now, however, it must be made clear that when a man has passed through the gate of death into the spiritual world which is his real home, he—or rather what remains of him—lives a life that is radically different from and fundamentally has very little relationship with the former earthly body.

In the next lecture we shall be able to learn what is necessary for more detailed knowledge of the life between death and the new birth.

Dritter Vortrag

Unter dem, was in unsern Betrachtungen über das Leben zwischen dem Tode und der neuen Geburt schon angedeutet worden ist, wird Ihnen erinnerlich sein, wie der Mensch zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt zunächst in den Verhältnissen weiterlebt, die er sich hier im Erdendasein vorbereitet hat. Wir haben darauf hingewiesen, daß, wenn wir eine Persönlichkeit in der geistigen Welt nach dem Tode wieder antreffen, das Verhältnis zwischen uns und dieser andern Persönlichkeit zunächst das ist, das sich während des Erdendaseins angesponnen hat, daß wir aber an diesen Verhältnissen zunächst nichts ändern können. Sagen wir also: Irgendein Freund oder sonst eine Persönlichkeit, die vor uns hingestorben ist, wurde von uns nach dem Tode in der geistigen Welt angetroffen. Nehmen wir an, sie wäre eine derjenigen Persönlichkeiten, der wir durch gewisse Umstände zum Beispiel Liebe schuldig waren und der wir diese Liebe in einer gewissen Beziehung entzogen haben. Wir werden nun das Verhältnis, das vor dem Tode bestanden hat, das Verhältnis einer gewissen durch uns verschuldeten Lieblosigkeit, weiter zu erleben haben. Wir stehen in der im vorhergehenden Vortrage geschilderten Weise der Persönlichkeit gegenüber und schauen sozusagen das an, erleben es immer wieder und wieder, was wir im Leben vor dem Tode herausgebildet haben. Wenn zum Beispiel das Leben so war, daß wir von einem bestimmten Zeitpunkte an im Erdenleben eine Änderung haben eintreten lassen in dem Verhältnisse zu der betreffenden Persönlichkeit, daß wir zum Beispiel zehn Jahre vor dem Ableben dieser Persönlichkeit, oder bevor wir gestorben sind, erst das eben geschilderte Verhältnis der selbst verschuldeten Unliebe haben eintreten lassen, so werden wir durch entsprechend lange Zeit nach dem Tode in diesem Verhältnisse zu leben haben und erst, nachdem wir dieses Verhältnis durchgekostet haben, weiterkommen, um auch das bessere Verhältnis, in dem wir zu dieser Persönlichkeit vorher waren, nach dem Tode in entsprechender Weise zu durchleben. Das ist es, was wir ins Auge fassen müssen: daß wir gegenüber der Änderung von Verhältnissen, die wir auf der Erde haben eintreten lassen, nach dem Tode nicht in der Lage sind, sie sozusagen auszugleichen, zu verändern, daß eine gewisse Unveränderlichkeit eingetreten ist.

Man könnte sehr leicht glauben, daß dies nur ein schmerzvolles Verhältnis sei, und daß eigentlich diese ganze Sache nur mit Leid von dem Menschen erblickt werden könnte. Wir würden, wenn wir so urteilen, nach unsern beschränkten irdischen Verhältnissen urteilen. Die Dinge nehmen sich aber, von der geistigen Welt aus gesehen, vielfach anders aus. Im Leben zwischen dem Tode und der neuen Geburt muß der Mensch allerdings den ganzen Schmerz durchmachen, der dadurch verursacht wird, daß er sich sagen muß: Ich sehe jetzt, wo ich in der geistigen Welt bin, das Unrecht ein, kann es aber nicht ändern, muß es sozusagen ändern lassen durch die Verhältnisse. — Wer das sieht, lebt allerdings diesen Schmerz durch. Aber er lebt durchaus auch das durch, daß er weiß, daß es so sein muß, und daß es für seine Fortentwickelung schädlich, schlimm wäre, wenn es nicht so wäre, wenn er nicht das aufnehmen könnte, was er durch einen solchen Schmerz erleben kann. Denn indem wir ein solches Verhältnis ansehen und nicht ändern können, nehmen wir die Kraft auf, um es später im Lebenskarma zu ändern. So arbeitet die Technik des Karma, daß wir es umwandeln und ändern können, wenn wir wieder in eine physische Verkörperung eintreten. Nur im geringsten Maße ist eigentlich die Möglichkeit vorhanden, daß der Verstorbene selbst es ändern kann. Er sieht gleichsam herankommen - das bezieht sich vor allen Dingen auf die erste Zeit nach dem Tode, auf die Zeit im Kamaloka -, was bedingt ist durch das Leben vor dem Tode; aber er muß dabei zunächst stehenbleiben und kann eine Änderung in seinen Verhältnissen, in seinem Erleben nicht eintreten lassen.

Da dürfen wir sagen: Viel mehr Einfluß als der Verstorbene selbst auf sich hat, und als andere Hingestorbene auf ihn haben, haben die Lebenden, die Zurückgebliebenen hier. Und das ist etwas, was ungeheuer bedeutsam ist. Wer noch auf dem physischen Plane zurückgeblieben ist und ein gewisses Verhältnis mit den Verstorbenen angeknüpft hat, wer Beziehungen hat zu den Seelen zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt, der ist eigentlich allein imstande, aus menschlicher Willkür heraus während dieses Lebens noch irgendwelche Veränderungen bei den Verstorbenen nach dem Tode eintreten zu lassen.

Nehmen wir einen konkreten Fall, der uns zugleich Verschiedenes lehren kann. Und dabei können wir auch Rücksicht nehmen auf das Kamaloka leben; denn in dieser Beziehung ändern sich die Verhältnisse nicht, wenn in die spätere Devachanzeit übergegangen wird. Denken wir uns, zwei Menschen haben auf der Erde gelebt. Es kann der Fall eintreten, daß der eine in einem bestimmten Zeitpunkte seines Lebens ein Verhältnis gewonnen hat - sagen wir, was uns naheliegt — zur Anthroposophie; er ist Anthroposoph geworden. Der andere, der neben ihm hergeht, wird dadurch, daß der Freund Anthroposoph geworden ist, gerade recht wütend auf die Anthroposophie, fängt jetzt erst an, ganz furchtbar über dieselbe zu schimpfen. Vielleicht haben Sie auch etwas darüber erfahren, wodurch Sie sich sagen können: Es würde der andere vielleicht gar nicht auf die Anthroposophie so wütend sein, wenn sein Freund nicht gerade Anthroposoph geworden wäre! - Nehmen wir an, die Anthroposophie wäre zuerst an ihn herangetreten: dann würde er vielleicht ein guter Anthroposoph geworden sein. Das kann sein; solche Verhältnisse gibt es im Leben. Aber wir müssen uns klar sein, daß solche Verhältnisse oft gar sehr in der Maja, in dem, was wir die Täuschung des Lebens nennen, spielen können. So kann folgendes der Fall sein. Der da beginnt furchtbar auf die Anthroposophie zu schimpfen, weil sein Freund Anthroposoph geworden ist, schimpft nur in seinem Oberbewußtsein, in seinem IchBewußtsein; in seinem astralen Bewußtsein, in seinem Unterbewußtsein braucht er durchaus nicht die Abneigung gegen die Anthroposophie zu teilen. Ohne daß er es weiß, kann sich sogar eine Sehnsucht nach der Anthroposophie herausstellen. Und bei vielen ist es so, daß dasjenige, was sich als Abneigung im Oberbewußtsein herausstellt, Neigung ist im Unterbewußtsein. Dadurch, daß jemand im Oberbewußtsein dies oder jenes äußert, braucht er noch nicht ebenso zu fühlen und zu empfinden, wie er sich äußert. Nach dem Tode erleben wir nicht bloß die Nachwirkungen dessen, was in unserem Oberbewußtsein, in unserem Ich-Bewußtsein ist. Wer das glaubte, würde die Verhältnisse nach dem Tode ganz falsch ansehen. Wir haben oft betont, wie der Mensch zwar physischen Leib und Ätherleib mit dem Tode abstreift, aber Wünsche, Sehnsuchten und so weiter bleiben. Doch es bleiben nicht nur die Wünsche und Sehnsuchten, von denen der Mensch etwas weiß, sondern auch die, welche in seinem Unterbewußtsein sind und von denen er nichts weiß, die er vielleicht bekämpft, gegen die er wütet. Diese sind nach dem Tode oft viel stärker und intensiver, als sie im Leben sind. Im Leben zeigt sich eine gewisse Disharmonie zwischen Astralleib und Ich in einem Sich-Ödefühlen, Sich-Unbefriedigtfühlen und so weiter. Nach dem Tode gibt gerade das astralische Bewußtsein den ganzen Charakter der menschlichen Seele an, das ganze Gepräge, wie der Mensch ist. Was wir in unserem Oberbewußtsein ausleben, ist nicht einmal von so großer Bedeutung wie alle die verborgenen Wünsche, Begierden, Leidenschaften, die in den Seelentiefen vorhanden sind und von denen das Ich oft gar nichts weiß. So kann es sein, daß ein solcher Mensch, der, weil sein Freund Anthroposoph geworden ist, über die Anthroposophie herzieht, durch die Pforte des Todes geht. Und jene Sehnsucht, die sich vielleicht gerade deshalb ausgebildet hat, weil er über die Anthroposophie geschimpft hat, macht sich geltend und wird jetzt ein innigster Wunsch nach der Anthroposophie. Dieser Wunsch müßte ungestillt bleiben; denn es könnte kaum der Fall eintreten, daß der Mensch nach dem Tode selbst Gelegenheit hätte, diesen Wunsch zu befriedigen. Aber durch eine eigentümliche Verkettung der Umstände kann in einem solchen Falle der, welcher auf der Erde zurückgeblieben ist, dem andern helfen und an dessen Verhältnissen etwas ändern. Und hier tritt der Fall ein, der in zahlreichen Fällen auch in unseren Reihen zu beobachten ist.

Wir können zum Beispiel den Verstorbenen vorlesen. Das macht man in der Weise, daß man sich die lebendige Vorstellung bildet, der Tote sei vor einem: man stellt sich etwa seine Gesichtszüge vor und geht in Gedanken die Dinge mit ihm durch, die zum Beispiel in einem anthroposophischen Buche stehen. Man braucht es nur in Gedanken zu tun; das wirkt in einer unmittelbaren Weise auf den, der durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen ist. Und solange er im Kamaloka-Zustand ist, ist die Sprache auch kein Hindernis; das wäre sie erst, wenn er im Devachan ist. Daher kann auch nicht die Frage aufgeworfen werden: Versteht denn der Tote die Sprache? - Während der Kamalokazeit ist durchaus noch eine Empfindung für die Sprache vorhanden. In einer solchen aktiven Weise kann der Mensch demjenigen Hilfe leisten, der durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen ist. Was so aus dem physischen Plan heraufströmt, das ist etwas, was eine Änderung in den Verhältnissen des Lebens zwischen dem Tode und der neuen Geburt hervorrufen kann, was dem Verstorbenen gegeben werden kann nur von der physischen Welt aus, was ihm aber nicht von der geistigen Welt direkt gegeben werden kann.

Wir sehen daraus, daß Anthroposophie, wenn sie sich wirklich in die Herzen der Menschen einlebt, tatsächlich die Kluft überbrücken wird zwischen der physischen und der geistigen Welt, und das wird der Lebenseflekt, der große Lebenswert der Anthroposophie sein. Es ist die Anthroposophie wirklich erst im Anfange ihres Wirkens, wenn man die Hauptsache darin sieht, daß man sich gewisse anthroposophische Begriffe und Ideen aneignet, wie der Mensch aus seinen Wesensgliedern besteht oder was ihm aus der geistigen Welt zukommen kann. Erst wenn man weiß, wie Anthroposophie in unser Leben eingreift, wird sie die Brücke schaffen zwischen der physischen und der geistigen Welt, aber praktisch schaffen. Wir werden uns dann nicht mehr bloß passiv verhalten zu denen, die durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen sind, sondern wir werden uns aktiv zu ihnen verhalten, werden in einem lebendigen Verkehr mit ihnen stehen und ihnen helfen können. Dazu muß sich allerdings die Anthroposophie in das Bewußtsein einleben, daß unsere gesamte Welt zusammengefügt ist aus dem physischen Dasein und dem überphysischen, dem spirituellen Dasein, und daß der Mensch nicht nur auf der Erde ist, um für sich selber während des Lebens zwischen Geburt und Tod die Früchte des physischen Lebens zu sammeln, sondern daß er auf der Erde ist, um in die überphysische Welt das hinaufzuschicken, was nur auf dem physischen Plane gepflanzt werden kann, was überhaupt nur auf diesem Plane da sein kann. Ob der Mensch durch ein Berechtigtes, ob er, sagen wir, durch Bequemlichkeit fern geblieben ist den anthroposophischen Anschauungen: wir können nach dem Tode diese anthroposophischen Anschauungen auf die geschilderte Art an ihn heranbringen.

Da kann es ja sein, daß vielleicht jemand die Frage aufwirft: Vielleicht geniere das den Verstorbenen, vielleicht will er das nicht? Diese Frage ist nicht ganz berechtigt, aus dem Grunde, weil die Menschen der Gegenwart in ihrem Unterbewußtsein gar nicht so sonderlich viel gegen die Anthroposophie haben. Sie haben eigentlich gar nichts in ihrem Unterbewußtsein dagegen; und könnten wir an das Unterbewußtsein derer heran, die in ihrem Oberbewußtsein gegen die Anthroposophie wüten, so heran, daß ihr Unterbewußtsein mitsprechen könnte, so würde es kaum irgendeine Gegnerschaft gegen die Anthroposophie geben. Denn der Mensch ist vorurteilsvoll und befangen gegen die geistige Welt nur in seinem Ich-Bewußtsein, nur in dem, was sich als Ich-Bewußtsein auf dem physischen Plane auswirkt.

Auf diese Weise haben wir die eine Seite der Vermittelung der physischen Welt und der spirituellen Welt kennengelernt. Wir können aber auch die Frage aufwerfen: Ist auch von der anderen Seite nach dieser physischen Welt eine Vermittelung möglich? Das heißt: kann in einer gewissen Beziehung der, welcher durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen ist, irgendwie sich denen mitteilen, die auf dem physischen Plane geblieben sind? — Das ist heute im allergeringsten Maße der Fall, und zwar aus dem Grunde, weil die Menschen auf dem physischen Plane zumeist nur in ihrem Ich-Bewußtsein leben und nicht in das Bewußtsein eintauchen, das an den Astralleib gebunden ist. Nun ist es nicht so leicht, eine Vorstellung davon hervorzurufen, wie allmählich die Menschen, wenn die Anthroposophie weiter und weiter in der Menschheitsevolution gedeihen wird, ein Bewußtsein von dem erringen werden, was um den Menschen rings herum ist als eine astrale oder devachanische oder sonstwie geistige Welt. Aber es wird das kommen. Rein dadurch, daß der Mensch auf das Rücksicht nimmt, was ihm die Anthroposophie durch ihre Lehren geben kann, wird er die Mittel und Wege finden, um die Welt des bloß physischen Planes zu durchbrechen und sozusagen Aufmerksamkeit zu verwenden auf die Welt, die ja rings um ihn herum ist und die ihm nur entgeht, weil er nicht aufmerksam ist auf die geistige Welt.

Wie können wir Mittel und Wege finden, um auf diese geistige Welt aufmerksam zu werden?

Ich möchte heute eine Vorstellung in Ihnen hervorrufen, wie der Mensch zunächst wissen kann, wie wenig er eigentlich von den Dingen der Umwelt in Wahrheit weiß und erkennt. Der Mensch erkennt nämlich eigentlich ungemein wenig Bedeutungsvolles von der Welt. Er lernt durch seine Sinne und seinen Verstand die gewöhnlichen Tatsachen erkennen, in die er hineingesponnen ist. Was da vorgeht und was in ihm selber vorgeht, lernt er kennen und verknüpft dann dieses, nennt das eine die Ursachen, das andere die Wirkungen, und glaubt dann die Vorgänge zu kennen, wenn er sie nach Ursache und Wirkung oder nach anderen Begriffen verknüpft. Wir gehen zum Beispiel morgens um acht Uhr aus unserer Wohnung, betreten die Straße, gehen dann an die Berufsstätte, essen dann während des Tages, machen dieses oder jenes zu unserem Vergnügen; das machen wir, bis wir wieder in den Schlaf hinübergehen. Dann verknüpfen wir diese Dinge in unserem Leben: das eine macht einen stärkeren Eindruck auf uns, das andere einen schwächeren. Dadurch erleben wir auch Seelenimpressionen: das eine ist uns sympathisch, das andere antipathisch. So leben wir - eine geringfügige Überlegung kann uns das lehren -, wie wenn wir oben auf dem Meere schwimmen und gar keine Vorstellung haben von dem, was unten auf dem Meeresgrunde ist. So leben wir in das Leben hinein und lernen nur kennen, was äußerlich als Wirklichkeit vorgeht. Aber in dem, was als Wirklichkeit so vorgeht, steckt ungeheuer viel darin. Nehmen wir das Beispiel: Wir sollten jeden Tag um acht Uhr morgens aus unserem Zimmer gehen, um an unsere Berufsstätte zu kommen. Eines Tages gehen wir drei Minuten später fort. Wir erleben da auch wieder etwas: Wir kommen um drei Minuten später an und machen es dann wieder so, wie sonst, wenn wir um acht von Hause fortgehen. Aber manchmal gelingt es uns doch, zu konstatieren, daß, wenn wir um acht Uhr auf der Straße gewesen wären, wir vielleicht von einem Automobil überfahren und getötet worden wären. Das heißt in diesem Falle: Wenn wir um acht Uhr auf die Straße gegangen wären, lebten wir gar nicht mehr. Oder wir können ein andermal feststellen, daß gerade ein Eisenbahnzug verunglückt ist, den wir sonst benutzt hätten, so daß wir uns ausrechnen können, daß wir mitverunglückt wären. Da haben wir noch radikaler, was ich eben ausgesprochen habe. Wir beachten nur das, was geschieht, und nicht das, was fortwährend geschehen kann und dem wir entgehen. Wir entgehen fortwährend Dingen, die mit uns geschehen könnten, und unendlich größer ist die Sphäre der Möglichkeiten gegenüber dem, was wirklich geschieht.

Nun können wir sagen: Das hat zunächst für unser äußeres Leben keine Bedeutung. — Ganz gewiß, für das äußere nicht, aber für das innere doch! Nehmen Sie an, Sie hätten die Erfahrung gemacht, daß Sie schon ein Billett für den «Titanic »-Dampfer gehabt haben, daß ein Freund Ihnen abgeraten hat zu fahren; Sie haben das Billett verkauft und Sie würden dann von der Katastrophe hören. Würden Sie dann dasselbe Seelenerlebnis haben, als wenn Sie ein unbeteiligter Beobachter wären? Würde es nicht vielmehr einen außerordentlich bedeutsamen Eindruck auf Ihre Seele machen? Wenn wir eben wüßten, vor wie vielen Dingen wir in der Welt bewahrt werden, wie viele Dinge möglich sind im guten und schlimmen Sinne, für welche die Kräfte zusammendrängen und nur durch eine Verschiebung nicht zusammenkommen, dann hätten wir eine Empfindung für Seelenerlebnisse des Glückes oder des Unglückes, für Erlebnisse des Leibes, die für uns möglich sind, aber die wir nicht erleben, die wir ganz und gar nicht erleben. Wer von allen denen, die hier sitzen, kann wissen, was er erlebt hätte, wenn zum Beispiel heute abend der Vortrag abgesagt worden wäre und er irgendwo anders wäre? Wenn er es aber wissen würde, so würde er manchmal aus diesem Wissen eine ganz andere innere Seelenverfassung haben, als er jetzt hat, weil er nicht weiß, was hätte geschehen können.

Dies alles, was so möglich ist, aber nicht wirklich wird auf dem physischen Plan, lebt als Kräfte, als Effekte hinter unserer physischen, in der geistigen Welt, ist dort als Kräfte wirklich vorhanden, durchschwirrt sozusagen die geistige Welt. Es stürmen auf uns nicht nur die Kräfte ein, die uns hier in der Wirklichkeit bestimmen, sondern auch die unermeßlich zahlreichen Kräfte, die nur in der Möglichkeit vorhanden sind, und nur selten dringt etwas von diesen Möglichkeiten in unser physisches Bewußtsein herein. Dann ist es in der Regel aber auch die Veranlassung eines bedeutsamen Seelenerlebnisses. Sagen Sie nicht: Was jetzt dargestellt worden ist, daß es eine unendliche Welt der Möglichkeiten gibt, daß zum Beispiel hier der Vortrag abgesagt sein konnte und daß die hier Sitzenden etwas anderes erleben konnten — das alles spreche gegen das Karma. — Es spricht nicht gegen das Karma. Wenn man das sagte, würde man nicht wissen, daß die Karma-Idee, wie wir sie dargestellt haben, nur für die Welt der Wirklichkeiten innerhalb des physischen Menschenlebens gilt, und daß das Leben des Geistigen durchlebt und durchwebt unser physisches Leben, daß eine Welt der Möglichkeiten herrscht, wo die Gesetze, die jetzt spielen als karmische Gesetze, ganz anderer Natur sind. Wenn wir uns ein bißchen mit einem Gefühl davon durchdringen, was für ein kleiner Teil die Welt der physischen Wirklichkeiten von dem ist, was wir erleben könnten, wie unsere Welt der Erlebnisse nur ein herausgeschnittenes Stück der Möglichkeiten ist, dann kann uns das den ungeheuren Reichtum, das Sprudelnde des geistigen Lebens nahelegen, das hinter unserem physischen Leben ist.

Nun kann folgendes vorkommen. Es kann ein Mensch tatsächlich ein wenig in seinen Gedanken, oder nicht einmal in seinen Gedanken, sondern in seinem Gefühl Rücksicht nehmen auf diese Welt der Möglichkeiten. Er kann zum Beispiel einmal so etwas erfahren: Du hast einen Zug versäumt, bei dessen Unglück du wahrscheinlich von dem Tode getroffen worden wärest. - Das kann ein Moment sein, der in der Seele einen tiefen Eindruck macht, wenn uns das vor Augen steht. Solche Momente sind geeignet, um uns sozusagen offen zu machen gegen die geistige Welt hin, wo dann Ahnungen in uns hereinkommen können. Solche Momente, die irgendwie mit uns zusammenhängen, können uns dann auch vorhandene Wünsche oder Gedanken der Seelen, welche zwischen dem Tode und der neuen Geburt leben, ankündigen.

Wenn Anthroposophie bei den Menschen das Gefühl für die Möglichkeiten des Lebens, für bestimmte Ereignisse und Erschütterungen lebendig machen wird, die nur dadurch nicht geschehen sind, daß irgend etwas, wozu die Kräfte da waren, nicht zustande gekommen ist, wenn das gefühlt wird, und die Seele an einem solchen Gefühle festhält, dann ist sie tatsächlich geeignet, Erfahrungen aus der geistigen Welt hereinzunehmen von solchen Persönlichkeiten, mit denen sie in der physischen Welt zusammengehangen hat. Wenn der Mensch auch während des turbulenten Tageslebens zumeist nicht geneigt ist, sich den Gefühlen, was hätte geschehen können, hinzugeben, so gibt es aber doch Zeiten im menschlichen Leben, in denen dies, was hätte geschehen können, bestimmend wirkt auf die menschliche Seele. Würden Sie das Traumleben oder das eigentümliche Leben im Übergehen vom Wachen in Schlaf oder vom Schlaf in Wachen genauer beobachten, würden Sie gewisse Träume genauer beobachten, die manchmal ganz unerklärlich sind, wo einem dies oder jenes, was mit einem geschieht, in einem Traumbilde oder in einer Vision vor die Seele tritt, würde die Seele dem nachgehen, so würde sie finden, daß solche unerklärliche Bilder so etwas sind, was hätte geschehen können, und was nur dadurch abgehalten worden ist, daß andere Verhältnisse eingetreten sind als die, die hätten geschehen können, oder weil sonst irgendwie Hindernisse eingetreten sind. Wer durch Meditationen oder auf andere Weise sein Vorstellungsleben beweglich macht, der wird, wenn auch nicht in deutlich ausgesprochenen Vorstellungen, doch aber gefühlsmäßig Momente im Wachleben haben, in denen er fühlt, wie er in einer Welt der Möglichkeiten drinnen lebt. Wenn man ein solches Gefühl entwickelt, bereitet man sich dazu vor, um Eindrücke aus der spirituellen Welt eben von denjenigen Menschen zu bekommen, die mit einem in der physischen Welt verbunden waren. Und dann treten derartige Einwirkungen auch in solchen Momenten, wie sie eben charakterisiert worden sind, als Traumerlebnisse zutage, die aber dann eine reale Bedeutung haben, die auf etwas Wirkliches in der spirituellen Welt hinweisen. Gerade indem uns die Anthroposophie lehrt, daß es hier im Leben zwischen Geburt und Tod das Karma gibt, zeigt sie uns, daß, wo wir auch stehen, wir immer vor einer unendlichen Zahl von Möglichkeiten stehen, die geschehen könnten. Eine wird ausgewählt nach dem Gesetz des Karma; die anderen stehen dahinter, die umgeben uns gleichsam wie eine reale Weltenaura. Je mehr wir an das Karma glauben, desto mehr glauben wir auch an diese reale Weltenaura, die uns umgibt aus lauter Kräften, die zusammenkommen, aber doch in einer Weise verschoben werden, so daß sie auf dem physischen Plane zu nichts führen.

Wenn wir uns gerade durch Anthroposophie das Gemüt beeinflussen lassen, wenn solche Dinge sich hereinleben in unser Gemüt, dann wird Anthroposophie das menschliche Erziehungsmittel sein, um auch Eindrücke, Einflüsse aus den geistigen Welten aufzunehmen. Wenn also Anthroposophie auf das Kulturleben, auf das Geistesleben, einen Einfluß gewinnt, dann wird nicht nur von dem physischen Leben hinauf ins Spirituelle dasjenige an Einflüssen gehen, was vorhin beschrieben worden ist, sondern es werden dann auch die Erlebnisse zurückkommen, welche die Verstorbenen haben in der Zeit, die sie durchleben zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt. So wird auch hier die Kluft beseitigt werden zwischen der physischen und der spirituellen Welt. Dadurch wird eine ungeheure Erweiterung des menschlichen Lebens zustande kommen, und erst dadurch wird zustande kommen, was die Anthroposophie schaffen soll: eine wirkliche Verbindung der beiden Welten, nicht nur ein theoretisches Begreifen, daß es eine geistige Welt gibt. Es ist einmal notwendig, zu begreifen, daß die Anthroposophie ihre vollständige Aufgabe erst dann erfüllt, wenn sie die menschlichen Seelen lebendig durchdringt und wenn wir durch sie nicht nur etwas begreifen, sondern ganz anders werden in unserer ganzen Stellung und in unserem Verhältnisse zur umliegenden Welt.

Der Mensch denkt vermöge der Vorurteile unseres Zeitenzyklus viel, viel zu materialistisch. Auch wenn er oftmals an eine geistige Welt glaubt, denkt er viel zu materialistisch. So wird es dem Menschen außerordentlich schwierig, das richtige Verhältnis zwischen Seelischem und Leiblichem im heutigen Zeitalter ins Auge zu fassen. Die Denkgewohnheiten gehen doch zu sehr danach hin, daß wir sozusagen das Seelische zu eng gebunden denken an das Körperliche. Hier kann uns vielleicht nur ein Vergleich zu dem verhelfen, was wir eigentlich begreifen sollen.

Wenn wir eine Uhr anschauen, so besteht sie aus Rädern, aus sonstigen Metallteilen und dergleichen. Schauen wir jemals eine Uhr an im gewöhnlichen Leben, in welchem sie uns dienen soll, um das Werk zu studieren oder um das Ineinanderspielen der Räder zu studieren? Nein. Wir schauen die Uhr an, um durch sie zu erfahren, wieviel Uhr es ist. Das ist aber etwas, was gar nichts zu tun hat mit allen Metallteilen und dergleichen. Denn, was hat die Zeit mit den Metallteilen zu tun? Wir schauen die Uhr an und kümmern uns gar nicht um das, was uns die Uhr selber zeigt. Oder nehmen wir ein anderes Beispiel zum Vergleich. Wenn der Mensch heute vom Telegraphieren spricht, so hat er vorzugsweise den elektrischen Telegraphen im Auge. Aber als man noch keinen elektrischen Telegraphen hatte, hat man auch telegraphiert. Denn wenn man nur die richtigen Zeichen und so weiter kennt, so würde man es - vielleicht gar nicht einmal viel langsamer — zustande bringen, auch ohne elektrischen Telegraphen von einem Orte zum andern zu sprechen. Man stelle Säulen zum Beispiel von Berlin nach Paris auf, man stelle an jeder Säule einen Menschen hin, der die betreffenden Zeichen gleich weitergibt. Und wenn das dann mit der nötigen Schnelligkeit geschieht, dann geschieht ganz dasselbe, was durch den elektrischen Telegraphen geschieht. Gewiß ist es durch den elektrischen Telegraphen einfacher und schneller; aber was da geschieht, das Telegraphieren, das hat mit der Einrichtung eines elektrischen Telegraphen nicht das geringste zu tun, so wenig wie die Zeit mit dem inneren Werke der Uhr.

Geradesoviel wie die Mitteilung von Berlin nach Paris mit der Einrichtung des elektrischen Telegraphen, geradesoviel und sowenig hat das, was die menschliche Seele ist, mit den Einrichtungen des menschlichen Leibes zu tun. Nur wenn wir so denken, bekommen wir eine richtige Vorstellung von der Selbständigkeit des Seelenwesens. Denn es könnte durchaus sein, daß diese menschliche Seele mit allem, was sie in sich hat, eines anderen Leibes, eines anders gestalteten Leibes sich bediente, so wie man die Mitteilung von Berlin nach Paris durch etwas anderes als gerade durch die Einrichtung eines elektrischen Telegraphen übersenden könnte. Und wie der elektrische Telegraph nur die bequemste Art ist innerhalb unserer Verhältnisse, um eine Mitteilung zu machen, so ist auch der in pendelnder Bewegung sich befindliche Leib, der oben ein Haupt hat, für unsere Erdenverhältnisse das bequemste Mittel, daß die Seele sich ausleben, sich äußern kann. Aber es ist durchaus nicht so der Fall, daß der Leib mit dem, was das Seelenleben ist, irgend etwas mehr zu tun hat, als die elektrischen Telegraphen und ihre Einrichtungen mit der Weitergabe einer Mitteilung von Paris nach Berlin, oder als die Uhr mit der Zeit zu tun hat. Denn man könnte ein ganz anderes Instrument ersinnen, um die Zeit zu messen, als unsere Uhren. Und so ist ein ganz anderer menschlicher Leib denkbar als der, den wir nach den jetzigen Erdenverhältnissen benutzen, um die menschlichen Seelenverhältnisse auszuleben. Denn, womit hängt die menschliche Seele zusammen? Wie haben wir eigentlich die menschliche Seele in ihrer Beziehung zum Leibe aufzufassen?

Gerade auf diesem Gebiete möchte man den Schillerschen Ausspruch anführen, auch in einem Bilde auf den Menschen angewendet: «Suchst du das Höchste, das Beste, die Pflanze kann es dich lehren. » Man sehe sich die Pflanze an, die bei Tag die Blätter ausbreitet, die Blüte öffnet, und die, wenn das Licht fort ist, Blätter und Blüte zusammenzieht. Was ist ihr entzogen? Was ihr von der Sonne, aus dem Sternenraume zukommt während des Tages, das ist ihr entzogen. Was aber von der Sonne hereinwirkt, das macht, daß die zusammengefallenen Blätter sich wieder ausspreizen, daß die Blüte sich entfaltet. Draußen im Weltenraume sind also die Kräfte, welche die Organe der Pflanze entweder schlaff zusammenfallen lassen oder sie sich entfalten lassen, wenn sie wirken. Was da im Weltenraume ausgebreitet ist und bei der Pflanze die Glieder erschlaffen läßt, wenn es sich der Pflanze entzieht, das macht beim Menschen das eigene Ich mit dem Astralleib. Wann läßt der Mensch die Glieder sinken, wann läßt er die Augenlider sinken, wie bei der Pflanze, wenn sie Blätter und Blüten zusammenzieht? Wenn das Ich und der astralische Leib aus der menschlichen Wesenheit herausgehen. Was die Sonne bei der Pflanze macht, das bewirkt das Ich und der astralische Leib bei den Organen der menschlichen Natur. Daher können wir sagen: Der Pflanzenleib muß hinaufsehen zur Sonne, wie der Menschenleib zu dem eigenen Ich und Astralleib hinsehen und sie als das ansehen muß, was auf ihn denselben Eindruck macht wie die Sonne auf die Pflanze. Ist es Ihnen, wenn Sie das nur äußerlich bedenken, noch wunderbar, wenn uns nun die okkulte Untersuchung lehrt, daß tatsächlich das Ich und der astralische Leib aus dem Weltenraume, dem die Sonne angehört, herausgeboren sind und gar nicht der Erde angehören? Und nun wird Ihnen dieses nach den schon angestellten Betrachtungen auch nicht verwunderlich sein: Wenn die Menschen im Schlafe oder im Tode herausschreiten aus der Erde, dann leben sie die großen Weltenverhältnisse durch, dann sind sie dort. Die Pflanze ist eben noch gebunden an die Sonne und an die Kräfte, die im Raume sind. Das Ich und der astralische Leib des Menschen haben sich selbständig gemacht gegenüber den im Raume ausgebreiteten Kräften und gehen ihren eigenen Weg. Daher kann die Pflanze nur schlafen, wenn ihr wirklich das Sonnenlicht entzogen ist. Der Mensch ist in bezug auf sein Ich und seinen Astralleib unabhängig von dem, was seine Heimat ist, von Sonnen und Planeten, daher kann er auch bei Tage schlafen, wenn die Sonne scheint. Er hat sich in seinem Ich und Astralleib frei gemacht von dem, womit er aber eigentlich einerlei ist: mit den Sternen- und Sonnenkräften. Und nicht grotesk ist es, wenn wir sagen: So gehört also das, was nach dem Tode auf der Erde und in ihren Elementen zurückbleibt, der Erde und ihren Kräften an; das Ich und der Astralleib aber gehören den großen Weltenkräften an, gehen zu diesen Weltenkräften mit dem Tode des Menschen wieder zurück und durchleben innerhalb derselben das Leben zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt. Und während der Zeit zwischen Geburt und Tod, während die Seele hier in einem physischen Leibe eingefügt ist, hat das, was unser Seelenleben ist, was eigentlich zum Sonnenleben und zum Sternenleben gehört, mit diesem physischen Leibe nicht mehr zu tun, als die Zeit, die im Grunde genommen auch durch Sonnen- und Sternkonstellationen bedingt ist, mit der Uhr und ihrer Einrichtung in den Rädern zu tun hat. Es wäre durchaus denkbar, daß wir, wenn wir statt auf der Erde auf einem andern Planeten wohnten, mit unserer selben Seele ganz anderen Planetenverhältnissen angepaßt wären. Daß wir Augen haben, wie sie in dieser Weise gestaltet sind, daß wir solche Ohren haben, wie sie so gestaltet sind, rührt nicht von den Seelenverhältnissen her, sondern von dem, was Erdenverhältnisse, irdische Verhältnisse sind. Wir benutzen nur diese Organe. Uns mit diesem Bewußtsein zu durchdringen, daß wir mit unserm Seelengliede der Sternenwelt angehören, das gibt uns eben erst Aufschluß über unser wirkliches menschliches Verhältnis, über unsere wirkliche menschliche Wesenheit. Wenn wir das wissen, wissen wir uns auch in der richtigen Weise zu unsern Verhältnissen hier auf der Erde zu verhalten. Wenn man daher in einer solchen Weise des Menschen, man möchte sogar sagen, mehr oder weniger äußerliches Verhältnis zu seinem physischen Leibe oder Ätherleibe durchdringt, dann wird Sicherheit in den Menschen kommen. Er wird sich nicht mehr bloß als Erdenwesen wissen, sondern als Angehöriger der ganzen Welt, des ganzen Makrokosmos, als eine im Makrokosmos drinnen befindliche Wesenheit. Nur weil er hier an seinen Leib gebunden ist, ist er sich der Zusammengehörigkeit mit den Kräften des großen Weltenraumes nicht bewußt.

Dies ist es, was immer versucht wurde im Laufe der Zeiten da, wo das geistige Leben vertieft worden ist, auch in die Seelen hineindringen zu lassen. Und im Grunde genommen ging erst in den letzten vier Jahrhunderten das Bewußtsein von dieser Zusammengehörigkeit des Menschen mit den spirituellen Kräften, die weben und walten im Weltenraume, verloren. Nehmen wir einmal das, was wir immer betont haben: daß wir in dem Christus zu sehen haben das große Sonnenwesen, das durch das Mysterium von Golgatha sich mit der Erde und ihren Kräften vereinigt hat, so daß der Mensch die Christus-Kraft auf der Erde in sich aufnehmen kann - dann wird in der Durchdringung mit dem Christus-Impuls zugleich das liegen, was in den großen Impulsen des Makrokosmos liegt, und es wird für jeden Menschheitszyklus das Richtige sein, in dem Christus das zu sehen, was uns das Zusammengehörigkeitsgefühl mit dem Makrokosmos geben soll.

Im 12. Jahrhundert entstand im Abendlande eine schöne Parabel, eine Erzählung, in der das Folgende dargestellt wird. Es hatte einmal ein Mädchen eine Anzahl von Brüdern. Alle waren sie bettelarm, die ganze Familie. Nun fand das Mädchen einmal eine Perle. Dadurch war sie in den Besitz einer ungeheuren Kostbarkeit gekommen. Die Brüder waren darauf aus, an dem Reichtum teilzunehmen, der da über das Mädchen gekommen war, und da trug sich das Folgende zu. Der eine Bruder war Maler, und er sagte zu dem Mädchen: Ich will dir das schönste Bild malen, das es je gegeben hat, wenn du mich an deinem Reichtume teilnehmen läßt. - Doch wollte das Mädchen nichts von ihm wissen und wies ihn ab. Der zweite Bruder war Musiker. Er versprach dem Mädchen, das herrlichste Musikstück zu komponieren, wenn sie ihn an ihrem Reichtum teilnehmen ließe. Aber sie wies ihn ab. Der dritte Bruder war Apotheker, und wie es im Mittelalter war, waren in den Apotheken vorzugsweise Parfümerien und andere Sachen zu haben, die nicht bloß Heilkräuter waren, sondern auch sonst für das Leben geeignet waren. Und das wohlriechendste Wasser versprach dieser Bruder dem Mädchen, wenn sie ihn zum Teilnehmer an ihrem Reichtume machen würde. Aber auch diesen Bruder wies sie ab. Der vierte Bruder war Koch. Er versprach dem Mädchen, daß er ihr so gute Dinge kochen würde, daß sie durch das Essen solcher Dinge ein Gehirn wie Zeus bekommen würde und außerdem das geschmackvollste Essen haben würde, wenn sie ihn an ihrem Reichtume teilnehmen ließe. Sie wies ihn ab. Der fünfte Bruder war ein Wirt, und der versprach ihr, daß er ihr die besten Freier verschaffen würde, wenn sie ihn an ihrem Reichtume teilnehmen ließe. Doch sie wies auch ihn ab. Da kam dann derjenige, so erzählt die Parabel, der wirklich die Seele des Mädchens finden konnte, und mit dem teilte sie ihr Kleinod, die Perle, die sie gefunden hatte.

Das Ganze ist sehr schön erzählt. Und noch schöner ist es dann dargestellt von einem späteren Lyriker im 17. Jahrhundert, von Jakob Balde, ausführlicher und schöner. Aber wir haben auch eine Erklärung, die schon aus dem 13. Jahrhundert stammt und die in diesem Falle von dem Dichter selber gegeben worden ist, so daß man nicht sagen könnte, die Erzählung wäre bloß so ausgelegt. Darin sagt der Dichter, er habe die menschliche Seele mit ihrem freien Willen darstellen wollen. Das Mädchen ist die menschliche Seele, die einen freien Willen hat. Die fünf Brüder des Mädchens sind die fünf Sinne: der Maler ist das Auge, der Musiker das Ohr, der Apotheker der Geruch, der Geschmack der Koch und der Wirt ist der Tastsinn. Sie weist sie ab, um dann mit dem, der wirklich ihrer Seele verwandt ist, mit dem Christus so wird es dargestellt - das Kleinod des freien Willens zu teilen, das heißt nicht um das aufzunehmen, wozu die Sinne drängen, sondern wozu der Christus-Impuls drängt, wenn die Seele von ihm durchdrungen ist. Da haben wir, man möchte sagen, in schöner Weise geschieden die Selbständigkeit des Lebens der Seele, die geistgeboren ist, die im Geiste ihre Heimat hat, von demjenigen, was irdisch geboren ist: die Sinne und alles das, was ja nur da ist, damit die Seele darin eingebettet sein kann, das heißt überhaupt die irdische Leiblichkeit.

Es sollte - damit der Anfang gemacht werde zu zeigen, wie man durch ein sachgemäßes Denken über das gewöhnliche Leben herausfinden kann - dargestellt werden, wie begründet und richtig das ist, was durch die okkulte Forschung in der geistigen Welt geschaut wird, wenn der okkulte Forscher unmittelbar durch seine Anschauung weiß, daß die Seele des Menschen, also Ich und Astralleib, der Sternenwelt angehören. Wenn man so das menschliche Verhältnis mit den im Schlafe zusammenbleibenden Gliedern betrachtet, wie es aber so ohne weiteres unabhängig ist von der Sternenwelt, weil der Mensch auch bei Tage schlafen kann, und wenn man es vergleicht mit der Pflanze und dem Sonnenlicht, dann kann eingesehen werden, wie begründet das ist, was die okkulte Forschung gibt. Es handelt sich darum, daß man eingeht auf die Begründungen, die wirklich in der Welt gefunden werden können. Wenn aber jemand unbegründet findet, was durch die okkulte Forschung zutage tritt, so ist das nur ein Zeichen dafür, daß er nicht alles zu Rate gezogen hat, was wirklich aus der äußeren Welt ein Wissen liefern kann. Das erfordert ja manchmal viel Energie und viel Unbefangenheit; die bringt man nicht immer auf. Aber man kann sagen: Wer mit Wahrhaftigkeit in der geistigen Welt forscht und dann das Resultat seines Forschens der Welt übergibt, der übergibt es dem sachgemäßen Urteil. Denn vor der vernunftgemäßen Kritik scheut die wirkliche okkulte Forschung nicht zurück, nur vor der oberflächlichen Kritik, die aber keine Kritik ist.

Wenn Sie sich nun erinnern, wie der Gang der ganzen Menschheitsentwickelung dargestellt worden ist von der Saturnzeit über die Sonnen- und Mondenzeit bis in unsere Erdenzeit, dann werden Sie sich auch erinnern, wie während der Mondenzeit eine Trennung eintritt, die sich dann während des Erdendaseins fortsetzt. Durch jene Trennung ist das bewirkt worden, daß sich heute verhältnismäßig ferner einander gegenüberstehen das Seelische und das Leibliche. Zur alten Sonnenzeit waren sie noch viel mehr miteinander verwandt. Dadurch, daß sich der Mond von der Sonne schon in der alten Mondenzeit trennte, wurde bewirkt, daß das Seelische des Menschen selbständiger wurde. Damals drang das Seelische in gewissen Zwischenzeiten zwischen den Verkörperungen in den allgemeinen Makrokosmos hinaus, machte sich selbständig, und das bewirkte, daß jene eigentümlichen Verhältnisse eintraten, die während der Erdentwickelung die Abtrennung der Sonne und dann die des Mondes in der lemurischen Zeit bewirkten, wodurch dann eine Schar einzelner menschlicher Seelen — wie es in der «Geheimwissenschaft im Umriß » ausführlicher beschrieben ist - hinausdrangen, um abgesondert von der Erde besondere Schicksale durchzumachen und um später erst wieder zurückzukehren. Es wird sich uns aber noch zu zeigen haben, daß der Mensch in bezug auf das, was übrigbleibt, wenn er durch die Pforte des Todes gegangen ist und in die geistige Welt, seine Heimat, geht, ein radikal anderes Leben führt, das im Grunde genommen recht wenig verwandt ist mit dem irdischen Leibe.

Noch Genaueres, was zur genaueren Kenntnis für das Leben zwischen Tod und neuer Geburt nötig ist, werden wir in den nächsten Vorträgen kennenlernen können.

Third Lecture

From what has already been indicated in our considerations about life between death and rebirth, you will remember how, between death and rebirth, human beings initially continue to live in the circumstances they have prepared for themselves here in earthly existence. We have pointed out that when we meet a personality again in the spiritual world after death, the relationship between us and this other personality is initially the one that was established during earthly existence, but that we cannot change these relationships at first. Let us say, then, that we encounter a friend or some other personality who died before us in the spiritual world after our death. Let us assume that this is one of those personalities to whom we owed love through certain circumstances and from whom we withdrew this love in a certain relationship. We will now have to continue experiencing the relationship that existed before death, the relationship of a certain lack of love for which we are responsible. We stand before the personality in the manner described in the previous lecture and, so to speak, look at it, experience again and again what we developed in our life before death. If, for example, our life was such that, from a certain point in our earthly life, we allowed a change to occur in our relationship with the personality in question, so that, for example, ten years before the death of this personality, or before we died, we allowed the relationship of self-inflicted unkindness just described to arise, then we will have to live in this relationship for a correspondingly long time after death, and only after we have thoroughly experienced this relationship will we be able to move on and live through the better relationship we had with this person before death in a corresponding manner. This is what we must bear in mind: that after death we are not in a position to compensate for or change the changes we have allowed to occur in our relationships on earth, that a certain immutability has set in.

It would be very easy to believe that this is only a painful relationship and that this whole thing can only be seen by human beings as suffering. If we judged in this way, we would be judging according to our limited earthly circumstances. However, when viewed from the spiritual world, things often appear very different. In the life between death and rebirth, human beings must indeed go through all the pain caused by having to say to themselves: Now that I am in the spiritual world, I see the injustice, but I cannot change it; I must, so to speak, let circumstances change it. Those who see this do indeed experience this pain. But they also live through the knowledge that it must be so, and that it would be harmful and bad for their further development if it were not so, if they could not take in what they experience through such pain. For by looking at such a relationship and not being able to change it, we absorb the strength to change it later in our life karma. This is how the technique of karma works, so that we can transform and change it when we enter a physical embodiment again. Only to a very small extent is it actually possible for the deceased to change it themselves. They see it approaching, as it were – this applies above all to the first period after death, to the time in Kamaloka – which is conditioned by their life before death; but they must first remain where they are and cannot bring about a change in their circumstances or in their experience.

We can say that the living, those who remain behind here, have much more influence than the deceased themselves and than other souls who have died and are waiting to be reborn. And that is something that is immensely significant. Those who are still on the physical plane and have established a certain relationship with the deceased, those who have connections with the souls between death and rebirth, are actually the only ones capable of bringing about any changes in the deceased after death during this life through human will.

Let us take a concrete case that can teach us various things. And in doing so, we can also take into account the Kamaloka life, for in this respect the conditions do not change when the later Devachan period begins. Let us imagine that two people have lived on earth. It may happen that at a certain point in his life, one of them has developed a relationship — let us say, for the sake of argument, with anthroposophy — and has become an anthroposophist. The other, who walks beside him, becomes quite angry with anthroposophy because his friend has become an anthroposophist, and now begins to speak very badly about it. Perhaps you have also heard something about this, which makes you say: The other person would perhaps not be so angry with anthroposophy if his friend had not become an anthroposophist! Let us assume that anthroposophy had approached him first: then he might have become a good anthroposophist. That may be; such circumstances exist in life. But we must be clear that such circumstances can often play a very important role in the Maya, in what we call the deception of life. The following case may be an example. Someone begins to rail terribly against anthroposophy because his friend has become an anthroposophist, but he is only railing in his superconsciousness, in his ego consciousness; in his astral consciousness, in his subconsciousness, he does not necessarily share this aversion to anthroposophy. Without his knowing it, he may even develop a longing for anthroposophy. And for many people, what appears as aversion in the conscious mind is actually an inclination in the subconscious. The fact that someone expresses this or that in their conscious mind does not mean that they feel and sense things in the same way as they express them. After death, we do not merely experience the after-effects of what is in our conscious mind, in our ego consciousness. Anyone who believed that would have a completely wrong view of the conditions after death. We have often emphasized how, although human beings shed their physical body and etheric body at death, their desires, longings, and so on remain. But it is not only the desires and longings of which the human being is aware that remain, but also those that are in his subconscious and of which he is unaware, which he perhaps fights against or rages against. After death, these are often much stronger and more intense than they are in life. In life, a certain disharmony between the astral body and the ego manifests itself in feelings of emptiness, dissatisfaction, and so on. After death, it is precisely the astral consciousness that determines the entire character of the human soul, the entire imprint of what a person is. What we live out in our conscious mind is not even as important as all the hidden desires, cravings, and passions that exist in the depths of the soul and of which the ego is often completely unaware. It may be that such a person, who disparages anthroposophy because his friend has become an anthroposophist, passes through the gates of death. And the longing that may have developed precisely because he railed against anthroposophy asserts itself and now becomes a heartfelt desire for anthroposophy. This desire would have to remain unfulfilled, for it is unlikely that the person would have the opportunity to satisfy this desire after death. But through a peculiar chain of circumstances, in such a case the one who has remained on earth can help the other and change something in his circumstances. And here we come to a case that can be observed in numerous instances in our own ranks.

For example, we can read aloud to the deceased. This is done by forming a vivid mental image of the deceased standing before you: you imagine their facial features and go through things with them in your mind, such as those found in an anthroposophical book. You only need to do this in your mind; it has a direct effect on those who have passed through the gate of death. And as long as they are in the Kamaloka state, language is no obstacle; it would only be an obstacle when they are in Devachan. Therefore, the question cannot be raised: Does the deceased understand the language? During the Kamaloka period, a sense of language is still very much present. In this active way, human beings can help those who have passed through the gate of death. What flows up from the physical plane is something that can bring about a change in the conditions of life between death and rebirth, something that can be given to the deceased only from the physical world, but not directly from the spiritual world.

We see from this that anthroposophy, when it truly takes root in people's hearts, will actually bridge the gap between the physical and spiritual worlds, and that will be the life force, the great value of anthroposophy. Anthroposophy is really only at the beginning of its work if one sees its main purpose as being to acquire certain anthroposophical concepts and ideas, such as how the human being is composed of its constituent elements or what can come to it from the spiritual world. Only when we know how anthroposophy intervenes in our lives will it build a bridge between the physical and spiritual worlds, but in a practical way. We will then no longer behave passively toward those who have passed through the gate of death, but will relate to them actively, stand in living communication with them, and be able to help them. To this end, however, anthroposophy must become part of our consciousness that our entire world is composed of physical existence and superphysical, spiritual existence, and that human beings are not only on earth to gather the fruits of physical life for themselves during the life between birth and death, but that he is on earth in order to send up into the superphysical world what can only be planted on the physical plane, what can only exist on this plane. Whether a person has remained distant from anthroposophical views for a valid reason or, let us say, out of convenience, we can bring these anthroposophical views to him after death in the manner described.

Someone might raise the question: Perhaps this would embarrass the deceased; perhaps he does not want this? This question is not entirely justified, because people today do not have particularly strong feelings against anthroposophy in their subconscious. They actually have nothing against it in their subconscious; and if we could access the subconscious of those who rage against anthroposophy in their conscious mind in such a way that their subconscious could have a say, there would hardly be any opposition to anthroposophy. For human beings are prejudiced and biased against the spiritual world only in their ego-consciousness, only in what manifests itself as ego-consciousness on the physical plane.

In this way we have become acquainted with one side of the mediation between the physical world and the spiritual world. But we can also ask the question: Is mediation also possible from the other side, from beyond this physical world? That is to say: Can those who have passed through the gate of death somehow communicate with those who have remained on the physical plane? — That is very rarely the case today, for the reason that people on the physical plane mostly live only in their ego consciousness and do not immerse themselves in the consciousness that is bound to the astral body. Now, it is not so easy to form an idea of how, gradually, as anthroposophy flourishes further and further in human evolution, people will attain an awareness of what surrounds them as an astral or devachanic or otherwise spiritual world. But it will come. Simply by taking into account what anthroposophy can give them through its teachings, people will find ways and means to break through the world of the purely physical plane and, so to speak, turn their attention to the world that is all around them and which they only miss because they are not attentive to the spiritual world.

How can we find ways and means to become aware of this spiritual world?

Today I would like to give you an idea of how human beings can first realize how little they actually know and understand about the things in their environment. For human beings actually recognize very little of significance in the world. Through their senses and their intellect, they learn to recognize the ordinary facts into which they are woven. They learn what is going on around them and within themselves, and then they connect these things, calling one the cause and the other the effect, and then they believe they know the processes when they connect them according to cause and effect or other concepts. For example, we leave our home at eight o'clock in the morning, step onto the street, go to work, eat during the day, do this or that for our pleasure; we do this until we go to sleep again. Then we connect these things in our lives: one makes a stronger impression on us, another a weaker one. This also causes us to experience impressions on our soul: one thing is pleasant to us, another is unpleasant. A little reflection can teach us that we live as if we were floating on the sea with no idea of what is at the bottom. We live our lives and only get to know what is happening externally as reality. But there is an enormous amount in what happens as reality. Let us take the example: we should leave our room every day at eight o'clock in the morning to go to our place of work. One day we leave three minutes later. We experience something again: we arrive three minutes later and then do as we usually do when we leave home at eight o'clock. But sometimes we manage to realize that if we had been on the street at eight o'clock, we might have been run over by a car and killed. In this case, that means that if we had gone out at eight o'clock, we would no longer be alive. Or we may realize another time that a train we would normally have taken has just had an accident, so that we can calculate that we would have been involved in the accident. This is an even more radical example of what I have just said. We only pay attention to what happens, and not to what can happen all the time and what we avoid. We constantly avoid things that could happen to us, and the sphere of possibilities is infinitely greater than what actually happens.

Now we can say: That has no significance for our external life. — Certainly not for the external, but for the internal it does! Suppose you had the experience of already having a ticket for the Titanic steamer, that a friend advised you not to go; you sold the ticket and then heard about the disaster. Would you have the same emotional experience as if you were an uninvolved observer? Would it not rather make an extraordinarily significant impression on your soul? If we knew how many things we are protected from in the world, how many things are possible in a good and bad sense, for which forces are converging and only fail to come together due to a shift, then we would have a feeling for experiences of happiness or unhappiness, for experiences of the body that are possible for us but which we do not experience, which we do not experience at all. Who among all those sitting here can know what they would have experienced if, for example, the lecture had been canceled this evening and they were somewhere else? But if he knew, he would sometimes have a completely different inner state of mind than he has now, because he does not know what could have happened.

All that is possible but does not actually happen on the physical plane lives as forces, as effects behind our physical world, in the spiritual world, where it is really present as forces, permeating the spiritual world, so to speak. We are not only assaulted by the forces that determine us here in reality, but also by the immeasurably numerous forces that exist only in possibility, and only rarely does anything of these possibilities penetrate our physical consciousness. But then it is usually also the cause of a significant soul experience. Do not say: What has now been presented, that there is an infinite world of possibilities, that, for example, this lecture could have been canceled and that those sitting here could have experienced something else — all this speaks against karma. — It does not speak against karma. If you said that, you would not know that the idea of karma, as we have presented it, applies only to the world of realities within physical human life, and that spiritual life permeates and interweaves our physical life, that a world of possibilities exists where the laws that now operate as karmic laws are of a completely different nature. If we allow ourselves to be imbued with a sense of how small a part the world of physical realities is of what we could experience, how our world of experiences is only a cut-out piece of possibilities, then this can suggest to us the immense richness, the effervescence of spiritual life that lies behind our physical life.

Now the following can happen. A person can actually take this world of possibilities into consideration a little in their thoughts, or not even in their thoughts, but in their feelings. For example, they may experience something like this: You missed a train, and in the accident you probably would have been killed. This can be a moment that makes a deep impression on the soul when we realize it. Such moments are conducive to opening us up, so to speak, to the spiritual world, where intuitions can then enter us. Such moments, which are somehow connected with us, can then also herald existing desires or thoughts of souls living between death and rebirth.

When anthroposophy awakens in people a sense of the possibilities of life, of certain events and upheavals that did not happen only because something that had the potential to happen did not come to pass, when this is felt and the soul holds fast to such feelings, then it is indeed capable of receiving experiences from the spiritual world from such personalities with whom it has been connected in the physical world. Even though people are not usually inclined to give in to feelings about what might have happened during their turbulent daily lives, there are times in human life when what might have happened has a decisive effect on the human soul. If you were to observe more closely the dream life or the peculiar life in the transition from waking to sleeping or from sleeping to waking, if you were to observe more closely certain dreams that are sometimes completely inexplicable, where this or that which happens to you appears before your soul in a dream image or in a vision, if the soul were to investigate this, it would find that such inexplicable images are something what might have happened, and what was prevented only by circumstances other than those that could have occurred, or because obstacles arose in some other way. Those who make their imagination more flexible through meditation or other means will, even if not in clearly articulated ideas, have moments in their waking life in which they feel as if they are living in a world of possibilities. When one develops such a feeling, one prepares oneself to receive impressions from the spiritual world from those people who were connected to one in the physical world. And then such influences also appear in moments such as those just described, as dream experiences, but these then have a real meaning that points to something real in the spiritual world. Precisely by teaching us that karma exists here in life between birth and death, anthroposophy shows us that, wherever we are, we always face an infinite number of possibilities that could happen. One is chosen according to the law of karma; the others remain behind, surrounding us like a real world aura. The more we believe in karma, the more we also believe in this real world aura that surrounds us, consisting of forces that come together but are shifted in such a way that they lead to nothing on the physical plane.

If we allow ourselves to be influenced by anthroposophy, if such things become part of our mind, then anthroposophy will be the means of human education for taking in impressions and influences from the spiritual worlds. So when anthroposophy gains influence in cultural life, in spiritual life, then not only will the influences described above flow upward from physical life into the spiritual, but the experiences that the deceased have during the time between death and rebirth will also return. In this way, the gap between the physical and spiritual worlds will also be bridged. This will bring about an enormous expansion of human life, and only then will what anthroposophy aims to achieve come about: a real connection between the two worlds, not just a theoretical understanding that a spiritual world exists. It is necessary to understand that anthroposophy will only fulfill its complete task when it permeates the human soul and when, through it, we not only understand something, but become completely different in our entire position and in our relationship to the surrounding world.

Due to the prejudices of our time, human beings think far too materialistically. Even if they often believe in a spiritual world, they still think far too materialistically. This makes it extremely difficult for people in the present age to grasp the right relationship between the soul and the body. Our habits of thinking tend too much toward thinking of the spiritual as being too closely bound to the physical. Perhaps only a comparison with what we are actually supposed to understand can help us here.

When we look at a clock, we see that it consists of wheels, other metal parts, and the like. Do we ever look at a clock in our everyday lives, in which it serves us, in order to study its workings or the interaction of the wheels? No. We look at the clock to find out what time it is. But that has nothing to do with all the metal parts and such. For what does time have to do with metal parts? We look at the clock and do not care at all about what the clock itself shows us. Or let us take another example for comparison. When people today speak of telegraphing, they have the electric telegraph in mind. But before the electric telegraph existed, people also telegraphed. For if one knows only the right signs and so on, one could—perhaps not even much more slowly—communicate from one place to another even without an electric telegraph. One could erect columns, for example, from Berlin to Paris, and place a person at each column who would immediately pass on the relevant signs. And if this is done with the necessary speed, then exactly the same thing happens as with the electric telegraph. Certainly, it is easier and faster with the electric telegraph; but what happens there, the telegraphing, has nothing to do with the invention of the electric telegraph, any more than time has to do with the inner workings of a clock.

Just as much as the communication from Berlin to Paris has to do with the invention of the electric telegraph, just as much and just as little does the human soul have to do with the structures of the human body. Only when we think in this way do we gain a correct understanding of the independence of the soul. For it could well be that this human soul, with everything it contains, makes use of another body, a differently formed body, just as the communication from Berlin to Paris could be transmitted by something other than the invention of the electric telegraph. And just as the electric telegraph is only the most convenient means of communication within our circumstances, so too is the body in pendulous motion, with its head above, the most convenient means for the soul to live out and express itself in our earthly circumstances. But it is by no means the case that the body has anything more to do with what the soul life is than the electric telegraph and its devices have to do with transmitting a message from Paris to Berlin, or than the clock has to do with time. For one could devise a completely different instrument for measuring time than our clocks. And so a completely different human body is conceivable than the one we use under present earthly conditions to live out human soul conditions. For what is the human soul connected with? How are we actually to understand the human soul in its relationship to the body?

It is precisely in this area that one would like to quote Schiller's saying, also applied to human beings in a figurative sense: “If you seek the highest, the best, the plant can teach you.” Look at the plant that spreads its leaves during the day, opens its flowers, and, when the light is gone, draws its leaves and flowers together. What has been taken from it? What comes to it from the sun and the starry space during the day is taken away from it. But what comes in from the sun causes the leaves that have fallen together to spread out again and the blossoms to unfold. Out there in the world space are the forces that cause the organs of the plant to either fall limp or unfold when they are active. What is spread out in the world space and causes the limbs of the plant to slacken when it withdraws from the plant, is done in the human being by the ego with the astral body. When does the human being let the limbs sink, when does he let the eyelids sink, as in the plant when it draws together its leaves and flowers? When the ego and the astral body leave the human being. What the sun does in plants, the ego and the astral body do in the organs of human nature. We can therefore say that the plant body must look up to the sun, just as the human body must look up to its own ego and astral body and regard them as having the same effect on it as the sun has on plants. If you consider this only outwardly, is it still wonderful to you when occult research teaches us that the ego and the astral body are actually born out of the world space to which the sun belongs and do not belong to the earth at all? And now, after the considerations already made, this will not be surprising to you either: When people step out of the earth in sleep or death, they live through the great world conditions; they are there. The plant is still bound to the sun and to the forces that are in space. The ego and the astral body of the human being have become independent of the forces spread out in space and go their own way. Therefore, plants can only sleep when they are truly deprived of sunlight. In relation to their ego and astral body, human beings are independent of their home, of suns and planets, and so they can sleep during the day when the sun is shining. In their ego and astral body, they have freed themselves from that with which they are actually one: the forces of the stars and the sun. And it is not grotesque to say that what remains on earth and in its elements after death belongs to the earth and its forces, but that the ego and the astral body belong to the great world forces, return to these world forces with the death of the human being, and live within them the life between death and new birth. And during the time between birth and death, while the soul is inserted here in a physical body, what is our soul life, what actually belongs to the life of the sun and the stars, has no more to do with this physical body than the time, which is basically also determined by the constellations of the sun and stars, has to do with the clock and its mechanism in the wheels. It would be quite conceivable that if we lived on another planet instead of on Earth, we would be adapted to completely different planetary conditions with the same soul. The fact that we have eyes shaped in this way, that we have ears shaped in this way, does not stem from the conditions of the soul, but from what are earthly conditions, terrestrial conditions. We only use these organs. To permeate ourselves with the awareness that we belong to the starry world with our soul members is what gives us insight into our true human relationship, into our true human nature. When we know this, we also know how to relate to our circumstances here on Earth in the right way. Therefore, when one penetrates in this way into the human being's more or less external relationship to his physical body or etheric body, then security will come into the human being. He will no longer know himself merely as an earthly being, but as a member of the whole world, of the whole macrocosm, as a being within the macrocosm. It is only because they are bound to their bodies here that they are not aware of their belonging to the forces of the great world space.

This is what has always been attempted throughout the ages, wherever spiritual life has been deepened, to let penetrate into the souls. And basically, it was only in the last four centuries that the awareness of this connection between human beings and the spiritual forces that weave and rule in the universe was lost. Let us take what we have always emphasized: that we must see in Christ the great sun being who, through the mystery of Golgotha, united himself with the earth and its forces, so that human beings can take the Christ force into themselves on earth—then, in the permeation with the Christ impulse, there will lie at the same time what lies in the great impulses of the macrocosm, and it will be right for every human cycle to see in Christ that which is to give us the feeling of belonging to the macrocosm.

In the 12th century, a beautiful parable arose in the West, a story in which the following is depicted. Once upon a time, there was a girl who had a number of brothers. They were all destitute, the whole family. Now, one day, the girl found a pearl. Through this, she came into possession of an immense treasure. The brothers wanted to share in the wealth that had come to the girl, and the following happened. One brother was a painter, and he said to the girl, “I will paint you the most beautiful picture that has ever been painted if you let me share in your wealth.” But the girl wanted nothing to do with him and rejected him. The second brother was a musician. He promised the girl that he would compose the most beautiful piece of music if she would let him share in her wealth. But she rejected him. The third brother was an apothecary, and as was customary in the Middle Ages, apothecaries mainly sold perfumes and other items that were not only medicinal herbs but also useful for everyday life. This brother promised the girl the most fragrant water if she would let him share in her wealth. But she rejected this brother as well. The fourth brother was a cook. He promised the girl that he would cook such delicious food for her that she would have a brain like Zeus and, moreover, the most delicious food if she would let him share in her wealth. She rejected him. The fifth brother was an innkeeper, and he promised her that he would find her the best suitors if she would let him share in her wealth. But she rejected him too. Then, according to the parable, there came one who was truly able to find the girl's soul, and with him she shared her treasure, the pearl she had found.

The whole story is beautifully told. And it is even more beautifully depicted by a later poet in the 17th century, Jakob Balde, in greater detail and with greater beauty. But we also have an explanation that dates back to the 13th century and was given in this case by the poet himself, so that one cannot say that the story is merely an interpretation. In it, the poet says that he wanted to depict the human soul with its free will. The girl is the human soul, which has free will. The girl's five brothers are the five senses: the painter is the eye, the musician is the ear, the apothecary is smell, the cook is taste, and the innkeeper is touch. She rejects them in order to share with the one who is truly related to her soul, with Christ—this is how it is depicted—the treasure of free will, which means not to accept what the senses urge, but what the Christ impulse urges when the soul is permeated by it. Here we have, one might say, a beautiful separation between the independence of the life of the soul, which is born of the spirit and has its home in the spirit, and that which is born of the earth: the senses and everything that exists only so that the soul can be embedded in it, that is, earthly physicality in general.

In order to begin to show how one can find out through proper thinking about ordinary life, it should be explained how well-founded and correct is what occult research sees in the spiritual world when the occult researcher knows directly through his perception that the soul of the human being, that is, the I and the astral body, belong to the starry world. If one considers the human relationship with the limbs that remain together during sleep, which is independent of the starry world because humans can also sleep during the day, and compares it with the plant and sunlight, one can see how well-founded occult research is. It is a matter of responding to the explanations that can actually be found in the world. But if someone finds what occult research reveals to be unfounded, this is only a sign that they have not consulted everything that can actually provide knowledge from the outer world. This sometimes requires a great deal of energy and impartiality, which are not always available. But we can say that anyone who researches truthfully in the spiritual world and then presents the results of their research to the world is presenting them to proper judgment. For true occult research does not shy away from rational criticism, only from superficial criticism, which is not criticism at all.

If you now remember how the course of the entire human evolution has been described, from the Saturn period through the Sun and Moon periods to our Earth period, then you will also remember how a separation occurred during the Moon period, which then continued during the Earth existence. This separation has resulted in the soul and the body being relatively distant from each other today. In the ancient Sun era, they were much more closely related. The separation of the Moon from the Sun in the ancient Moon era caused the soul to become more independent in human beings. At that time, the soul penetrated into the general macrocosm during certain intervals between incarnations, became independent, and this brought about those peculiar conditions which, during the Earth's development, caused the separation of the sun and then of the moon in the Lemurian epoch, As a result, a host of individual human souls—as described in more detail in The Secret Science in Outline—emerged to undergo special destinies separate from the Earth and only later return. However, it will still have to be shown that, in relation to what remains when a person has passed through the gate of death and enters the spiritual world, their home, they lead a radically different life that is, in essence, quite unrelated to the earthly body.

In the next lectures, we will learn more details that are necessary for a more precise understanding of life between death and rebirth.