The Effect of Occult Development Upon the Self and the Sheaths of Man
GA 145
26 March 1913, The Hague
Lecture VII
In the last lecture I referred to two legends, that of Paradise and that of the Holy Grail. I tried to show that these two legends represent occult imaginations which may really be experienced at a certain moment. When the pupil is independent of his physical body and etheric body—as he is unconsciously during deep sleep, and with clairvoyance consciously perceives his physical body, he experiences the legend of Paradise; when his perceptions are aroused by his etheric body, the legend of the Grail presents itself. We must now point out that such legends were given as stories or as religious legends, and so popularised in a definite period. The original source of these legends, which meet us in the form of romance or of religious writings in the external history of the development of mankind, is in the Mysteries, where their contents were established only by means of clairvoyant observations. In the composition of such legends it is especially necessary that the very greatest care should be taken that both subject matter and tone should suit the period and the people to which the legends are given.
In the previous lectures of this course we have explained how through his theosophical occult development the student undergoes certain changes in his physical and etheric body. We shall have now to consider the astral body and the self more closely, and then return briefly to the physical and etheric body. We have seen that when, in order to progress further through receiving the possessions of spiritual wisdom and truth, the student undertakes this self-development, he produces by this means changes in the various part;, of his spiritual and physical organisation. Now, from the information that has been given from the akashic records of various periods of evolution, we know that in the course of the ordinary historical evolution of man these various parts of human nature also undergo a change, naturally, as it were; we know that in the ancient Indian age, the first age of civilisation after the great Atlantean catastrophe, the processes of the human etheric body were conspicuous; we know that afterwards, during the ancient Persian age of civilisation, the change in the human astral body came into prominence, and during the Egyptian-Chaldean age changes took place in the human sentient-soul, and during the Graeco-Latin age there were changes in the human intellectual- or mind-soul. In our times the changes in the human consciousness-soul are more conspicuous. Now, when a legend is given in some particular age—let us say, in the age in which the intellectual-soul undergoes a special change, when the facts in this soul are of special importance—it is important that it should be given in such a way that special attention should be paid to that particular age, and that in the Mysteries from which the legend proceeds it should be agreed that the legend must be so presented that the changes which are going on in the human intellectual- or mind-soul during that age should be protected against any harmful influences incidental to the legend, and specially adapted to its favourable influences.
Thus there can be no question of following his own inner impulse alone, when a person belonging to a Mystery school has the duty laid upon him of imparting such a legend to the world, for he must follow the dictates of the age in which he lives. If we turn our observations in this direction, we shall better understand the changes that take place, more particularly in the human astral body, when a person undergoes an esoteric development.
In the case of an esotericist, or one who seriously undertakes a theosophical development, who makes Theosophy part of his life, his astral body lives a separate life; in the case of an ordinary human being it is not so free, not so independent. The astral body of a student going through development becomes detached and independent to some extent. It does not pass unconsciously into a sort of sleep, but becomes independent, and detached, going through in a different way what a human being usually does in sleep. It thereby enters the condition suited to it. In an ordinary man who lives in the exoteric world, this astral body is connected with the other bodies, and each exercises its special influence upon it. The individually pronounced quality of this human principle does not then come into notice. But when this astral body is torn out its special peculiarities assert themselves. And what are the peculiarities of the astral body? Now, my dear friends, I have often referred to this quality—perhaps, to the disgust of many who are sitting here. The quality peculiar to the human astral body on earth is egotism. When the astral body, apart from the influences which come from the other principles of human nature, asserts, its own peculiar quality, this is seen to be egotism, or the effort to live exclusively in itself and for itself. This belongs to the astral body. It would be wrong, it would be an imperfection in the astral body as such, if it could not permeate itself with the force of egotism, if it could not say to itself, ‘Fundamentally I will attain everything through myself alone, I will do all that I do for myself, I will devote every care to myself alone.’ That is the correct feeling for the astral body. If we bear this in mind we shall understand that esoteric training may produce certain dangers in this direction. Through esoteric development, for instance, because this esoteric development must necessarily make the astral body somewhat free, those persons who take up a kind of Theosophy that is not very serious, without paying attention to all that true Theosophy wishes to give, will in the course of it specially call forth this quality of the astral body, which is egotism. It can be observed in many theosophical and occult societies that while selflessness, universal human love, is preached as a moral principle and repeated again and again, yet through the natural separation of the astral body egotism flourishes. Moreover, to an observer of souls it seems quite justifiable, and yet at the same time suspicious, when universal human love is made into a much-talked of axiom—observe that I do not say it becomes a principle, but that it is always being spoken of; for under certain conditions of the soul-life a person prefers most frequently to speak of what he least possesses, of what he notices that he most lacks, and we can often observe that fundamental truths are most emphasised by those who are most in want of them.
Universal human love ought without this to become something in the development of humanity which completely rules the soul, something which lives in the soul as self-evident, and concerning which the feeling arises: ‘I ought not to mention it so often in vain, I ought not to have it so often on my lips in a superfluous manner.’ Just as a well-known commandment says: Thou shalt not take the Name of God in vain ... so might the following be a commandment to a true and noble humanity: you ought not to utter so often in vain the requirement of the universal human love which is to become the fundamental feature of your souls, for if silence is in many cases a much better means of developing a quality than speech, it is particularly the case in this matter; quietly cultivating it in the heart, and not talking about it, is a far, far better means of developing universal brotherly love than continually speaking about it. Now the advocacy of this exoteric principle has primarily nothing to do with what has been described as the fundamental quality of the astral body: egotism; the endeavour to exist in itself, of itself and through itself.
The question now is: How, then, is it possible to see this in a right light, this quality—let us calmly use the expression—of the astral body which seems so horrible to us, viz., that it wishes to be an absolute egotist? Let us set to work, beginning from the simple facts of life. There are cases even in ordinary life in which egotism expands, and where we must, to a certain degree, look upon this expansion of egotism as a necessary adaptation in life. For example, consider the characteristic of much mother-love, and try to understand how in this case egotism extends from the mother to the child. We may say that the further we penetrate among less developed peoples, and observe what we might call the lion-like way in which the mothers stand up for their children, the more we notice that the mother considers any attack upon her child as an attack upon herself. Her self is extended to the child; and it is a fact that the mother would not feel an attack upon a part of herself more than upon her child. For what she feels in herself she carries over to her child and we cannot find anything better for the regulation of the world than that egotism should be extended in this way from one being to others, and that one being should reckon itself as forming part of another, as it were, and on this account should extend its egotism over this other. Thus we see that egotism ceases to have a dark side when a being expands itself, when the being transfers its feeling and thinking into another, and considers it as belonging to itself. Through extending her egotism to her child, a mother also claims it as her possession: she counts it as part of herself; she does just as the astral body does, saying: All that is connected with me lives through me, to me, with me, etc.
We may see something similar even in more trivial cases than mother-love. Let us suppose that a man has a house, a farm, and land which he cultivates; let us suppose this man loves his house, his farm, his land and his work-people as his own body; he looks upon the matter in such a way that they are to him an extension of his own body, and loves his house, farm, land and people—as a woman may, under certain circumstances, love her gown, as forming part of her own body. In this case the being of the man expands in a certain sense to what is around him. Now, if his care expands in this way to his possessions and his servants, so that he watches over them and resists any attack upon them as he would an attack on his own body, we must then say that the fact of this environment being permeated with his egotism is extremely beneficial. Under certain circumstances, what is called love may, however, be very self-seeking. Observation of life will show how often what is called love is self-seeking. But an egotism extended beyond the person may also be very selfless, that is, it may protect, cherish and take care of what belongs to it.
By such examples as these, my dear friends, we ought to learn that life cannot be parcelled out according to ideas. We talk of egotism and altruism, and we can make very beautiful systems with such ideas as egotism and altruism. But facts tear such systems to pieces; for when egotism so extends its interests to what is around it that it considers this as part of itself, and thus cherishes and takes care of it, it then becomes selflessness; and when altruism becomes such that it only wishes to make the whole world happy according to its own ideas, when it wishes to impress its thoughts and feelings on the whole world with all its might, and wishes to adopt the axiom, ‘If you will not be my brother, I will break your head,’ then even altruism may become very self-seeking. The reality which lives in forces and in facts cannot be enclosed in ideas, and a great part of that which runs counter to human progress lies in the fact that in immature heads and immature minds there arises again and again the belief that the reality can in some way be bottled up in ideas.
The astral body may be described as an egotist. The consequence of this is that the development which liberates the astral body must reckon with the fact that the interests of man must expand, become wider and wider. Indeed, if our astral body is to liberate itself from the other principles of human nature in the right manner, its interest must include the whole of the earth and earth-humanity. In fact, the interests of humanity upon the earth must become our interests; our interests must cease to be connected in any way with what is merely personal; all that concerns mankind, not only in our own times, but all that has concerned mankind at any time in the whole of its earthly development, must arouse our deepest interests; we much reach the point of considering as an extension of what belongs to us, not only what belongs to our family by blood, not only what is connected with us such as house and farm and land, but we must make everything connected with the development of the earth our own affair.
When in our astral body we are interested in all the affairs of the earth, when all the affairs of the earth become our own, we may give way to the sense of selfhood in our astral body. This, however, is necessary, that the interests of mankind on earth should be our interests. Consider from this point of view the two legends I spoke of in the last lecture. When they were given to humanity at a certain stage, they were given from the point of view that the human being should be raised from any individual interest to the universal interests of the earth. The legend of Paradise leads the pupil directly to the starting point of our earthly evolution, when man had not yet entered upon his first incarnation, or when he is just beginning it, where Lucifer approaches him, when he still stands at the beginning of his whole development and can actually take all human interests into his own breast. The very deepest problem of education and training is contained in the story of Paradise, that story which uplifts one to the standpoint of all humanity, and imprints in every human breast an interest which can also speak in each. When the pictures of the legend of Paradise, as we have tried to comprehend them, press into the human soul, they act in such a way that the astral body is penetrated through and through by them; and under the influence of this human being whose horizon is expanded over the whole earth, the astral body may also make its own interest all that now enters its sphere. It has now arrived at being able to consider the interests of the earth as its own. Try, my dear friends, to consider seriously and earnestly what a universal, educative force is contained in such a legend, and what a spiritual impulse lies there.
It is the same with the legend of the Grail. While the Paradise legend is given to the humanity of the earth, inasmuch as it directs this humanity to the origin, the starting-point of its earthly development, while the Paradise legend, as given, uplifts us to the horizon of the whole development of humanity, the legend of the Grail is given that it may sink into the innermost depths of the astral body, into its most vital interests, just because, if only left to itself, this astral body becomes an egotist which only considers the interests that are its very own.
As regards the interests of the astral body, we can really only err in two directions. One is the direction towards Amfortas, and the other, before Amfortas is fully redeemed, leads towards Perceval. Between these two lies the true development of man, in so far as his astral body is concerned. This astral body strives to develop the forces of egotism within itself. But if it brings personal interests into this egotism it becomes corroded, and while it ought to extend over the whole earth, it will shrivel up into the individual personality. This may not be. For if it occurs, then through the activity of the personality, which expresses its ego in the blood, the whole human personality is wounded—one errs on the Amfortas side. The fundamental error of Amfortas consists in his carrying into the sphere in which the astral body ought to have gained the right to be an egotist, that which still remains in him as personal desires and wishes. The moment we take personal interests into the sphere where the astral body ought to separate itself from personal interest it is harmful, we become like the wounded Amfortas.
But the other error can also lead to harm, and only fails to do so when the being who suffers this harm is filled with the innocence of Perceval. Perceval repeatedly sees the Holy Grail pass. To a certain extent he commits a wrong. Each time the Holy Grail is carried past it is on his lips to ask for whom this food is really intended; but he does not ask; and at length the meal is over without his having asked. And so, after this meal he has to withdraw, without having the opportunity of making good what he had omitted to do. It is really just as though a man, not yet fully mature, were to become clairvoyant for a moment during the night, when he would be separated as if by an abyss from what is contained in the castle of his body, and were then to glance for a moment into it; and as if then without having obtained the appropriate knowledge, that is, without having asked the question, everything were again to be closed to him; for then, even though he wakened, he would not be able to enter this castle again. What did Perceval really neglect to do?
We have heard what the Holy Grail contains. It contains that by which the physical instrument of man on earth must be nourished: the extract, the pure mineral extract, which is obtained from all foods and which unites in the purest part of the human brain with the purest sense-impressions, impressions which come into us through our senses. Now, to whom is this food to be handed? It is really to be handed—as appears to us when from the exoteric poetic story we enter into the esoteric presentation of it in the Mysteries—it is really to be handed to the human being who has obtained the understanding of what makes man mature enough gradually to raise Himself consciously to that which this Holy Grail is. Through what do we gain the faculty to raise ourselves consciously to that which is the Holy Grail?
In the story it is very clearly indicated for whom the Holy Grail is really intended. And when we go into the Mystery presentation of the legend of the Grail we find in addition something very special. In the original legend of the Grail the ruler of the castle is a Fisher King, a king ruling over fisher folk. There was Another Who also walked among fisher folk, but He did not wish to be the king of these fishermen, rather something else; He scorned to rule over them as a king, but He brought them something more than did the king who ruled over them—this One was Christ Jesus.
Thus we are shown that the error of the Fisher King, who in the original legend is Amfortas, was a turning aside. He is not altogether worthy to receive health really through the Grail; because he wishes to rule his fisher folk by means of power. He does not allow the spirit alone to rule among this fisher folk.
At first Perceval is not sufficiently awake inwardly to ask in a self-conscious way: What is the purpose of the Grail? What does it demand? In the case of the Fisher King it required him to kill out his personal interest and cause it to expand to the interest in all humanity shown by Christ Jesus. In the case of Perceval it was necessary that he should raise his interest above the mere innocent vision to the inner understanding of what in every man is the same, what comes to the whole of humanity, the gift of the Holy Grail. Thus in a wonderful way between Perceval and Amfortas, the original Fisher King, floats the ideal of the Mystery of Golgotha, and at an important part of the legend it is delicately indicated that on the one hand the Fisher King has taken too much personality into the sphere of the astral body, and on the other stands Perceval, who has carried thither too little general interest in the world, who is still too [unsophisticated, who does not feel sufficient interest in the world. It is the immense educative value of the Grail legend that it could so work into the souls of the students of the Holy Grail that they had before them something like a balance: in the one scale that which was in Amfortas, and in the other that which was in Perceval; and they then knew that the balance was to be established. If the astral body follows its own innate interests, it will uplift itself to that horizon of universal humanity which is gained when the statement becomes a truth: ‘Where two are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them, no matter where in the development of the earth these two may be found.’ (Matthew 18, 20.)
At this point, my dear friends, I beg you not to take a part for the whole, but to take this lecture and the next together; for they may cause misunderstanding. But it is absolutely necessary that the human astral body should in its development be uplifted to the horizon of humanity in a very special way, so that the interest, common to all humanity, becomes its own, so that it feels wronged, hurt, sad within itself, when humanity is harmed in any way. To this end it is necessary that when, through his esoteric development, the student gradually succeeds in making his astral body free and independent from the other principles of his human nature, he should then arm and protect himself against any influences of other astral bodies; for when the astral body is free it is no longer protected by the physical body and etheric body, which are a strong castle, as it were, for the astral. It is free, it becomes permeable, and the forces in other astral bodies can very easily work into it. Astral bodies stronger than itself can influence it, should it be unarmed with its own forces. It would be fatal if someone were to attain the free management of his astral body, and yet were as innocent as regards its conditions as Perceval was at the beginning. That will not do; for then all sorts of influences proceeding from other astral bodies would be able to have a corresponding effect on his.
Now, what we have just mentioned also applies to a certain extent to the external exoteric world. Humanity upon the earth lives under certain religious systems. These religious systems have their cults and rituals. These rituals surround a member of a cult with imaginations obtained from the higher worlds by the help of the astral body. The moment such a religious community admits a man to its membership he is in the midst of imaginations which, while he is influenced by the ritual, liberate his astral body. In any religious ritual the astral body becomes, to a certain extent, free, at any rate for brief moments. The more powerful the ritual, the more does it suppress the influence of the etheric body and the physical body; the more it works by means of methods that liberate the astral body, the more is the astral body, during the ceremony, enticed out of the etheric body and physical body. For this reason also—though it might seem as if I am speaking in ridicule, which I am not—for this reason there is no place so dangerous to sleep in as a church, because in sleep the astral body separates from the etheric body and physical body, and because what goes on in the ritual insinuates itself into the astral body; for it is brought down from the higher worlds by the help of astral bodies. Thus to go to sleep in church, which in some places is strongly attractive to people, is something that really should be avoided. This applies more to churches which have a ritual; it does not apply so much to those religious communities which, through the ideas of modern times, have relinquished a certain ritual or limit themselves to a minimum of ritual. We are not now speaking of these things from any preference or otherwise for one creed or another, but purely according to the standard of objective facts. When, therefore, a person has emancipated his astral body from the other principles of his human nature, the impulses and forces obtained by the help of astral bodies may easily influence him. In this respect it is also possible that a person who has arrived at the free use of his astral body, if he is stronger than another whose astral body is to some extent emancipated, may obtain a very great influence over the latter. It is then absolutely like a transference of the forces of the astral body of the stronger personality to that of the weaker. And if we then clairvoyantly observe the weaker personality, he is really seen to bear within his astral body the pictures and imaginations of the stronger astral personality. You see how necessary it is that ethics should be in the ascendant where occultism is to be cultivated; for naturally egotism cannot be cultivated without really striving to emancipate the astral body from the other principles of human nature; but the most destructive thing in the field of occultism is for the stronger personalities to strive in any way for power to further their personal interests and personal intentions. Only those personalities who absolutely renounce all personal influence are really entitled to work in the domain of occultism, and the greatest ideal of the occultist who is to attain anything legitimate is not to wish to attain anything whatever by means of his own personality, but to put aside as far as possible all consideration of personal sympathy or antipathy. Therefore, whoever possesses sympathy or antipathy for one thing or another, and yet wishes to work as an occultist, must carefully relegate these sympathies and antipathies to his own private sphere, and only allow them to prevail there; in any case he may not cultivate and cherish any of these personal sympathies and antipathies in the domain in which an occult movement is to flourish. And, paradoxical as it may sound, we may say: To the occult teacher his own teaching is a matter of no concern; in fact, the matter of least concern of all to him is the teaching which he can really only give by means of his own talents and temperament. Teaching will only have a meaning when as such it contains nothing in any way really personal, but simply what can be of help to souls. Therefore, no occult teacher will at any time give any of his knowledge to his own age if he is aware that this part of his knowledge is useless to it, and could only be useful to a different age. All this comes into consideration when we are speaking of the peculiar nature of the astral body under the influence of occult development. During the preparation for our age and its progressive development a further complication arises. For what is our own age? It is the age of the development of the consciousness-soul. Nothing is so closely connected with the egotism which accentuates the narrow, personal interests as the consciousness-soul. Hence, in no other age is there such a temptation to confuse the most personal interests with those that belong to mankind in general. This age has gradually to gather the interests of humanity into the human ego, as it were; into that very part of the human ego which is the consciousness-soul. Towards the dawn of our age we see human interests being concentrated into the ego, the acme of the sense of selfhood. In this respect it is extremely instructive seriously to consider whether, for example, what Saint Augustine wrote in his ‘Confessions’ would ever have been possible in ancient Greece. It would have been absolutely out of the question.
The whole nature of the Greek was such that his inner being was in a certain harmony with his outer nature, so that external interests were at the same time inner interests, and inner interests extended into outer ones. Consider the whole Greek culture. It was of such a nature that everywhere a certain harmony between the human inner being and the outer must be taken for granted. We can only understand Greek art and tragedy, Greek historians and philosophers, when we know that among the Greeks that which pertained to the soul was poured into the outer culture, and as a matter of course showed its union with the inner. Let us compare this with the Confessions of Saint Augustine. Everything lives for himself; he searches, digs and investigates into his own being. If we look for the entirely personal, individual note in the writings of Saint Augustine we can find it in them all. Although Augustine lived long before our age, yet he prepared for it; his was the spirit in whose records we find the first dawn, long before the rising of the sun, the first dawn of the age apportioned to the consciousness-soul. This can be perceived in every line written by him, and every line of his can be distinguished by a delicate perception from all that was possible in ancient Greece.
Now, when we know that Augustine was advancing to meet the age when the sense of selfhood—the occupation of man with his own inner being even within the physical body—is as a sort of character of this age, we can understand that one who, like Augustine, has more extended interests as well, and observes the whole of the development of mankind, will truly shudder when a human being comes to him who gives him the idea that, on attaining a certain height, the astral body must naturally develop a sort of selfishness. Purely, nobly and grandly Augustine attacks self-centredness.
We might say that he attacks it selflessly. But he came into the age when humanity had separated itself from the general interests of the outer world. Recollect that in the third post-Atlantean age every Egyptian directed his gaze to the stars, where he read human destiny, how the soul was connected with interests common to humanity. Naturally this could only be attained when the human being was still capable, in the ancient elementary clairvoyance, of keeping his astral body separate from the physical body; therefore, Augustine could not but shudder when in contact with a person who reminded him, as it were, that with higher development comes selfishness. He can comprehend this, he feels it, his instinct tells him that he is living towards the age of egoism. When, therefore, a person confronts him who represents the higher development beyond that in the physical body, he feels: we are moving in the direction of egotism. At the same time he cannot comprehend that this person is bringing with him an interest common to the whole of humanity. Try to obtain a perception of how Augustine, according to his own confession, confronts the Manichaean Bishop, Faustinus—for it is he whom I have described. When he met with Faustinus, Augustine had the experience of a man facing the age of egoism in a noble way, wishing to protect it against egotism by the inner power alone, and who must turn away from such a man as the Manichaean Bishop, Faustinus. He turned away from him because, to him, Faustinus represented something in which he ought not to take part; for he conceals something within him which could not be understood at all in exoteric life in such an age. Thus the Manichaean Bishop, Faustinus, confronts the Church Father, Augustine; Augustine, who is facing the age of the consciousness-soul, meets with a human being who preserves his connection with the spiritual world as it can be preserved in an occult movement, and who thereby also preserves the fundamental quality of the astral body, at which Augustine shudders and, from his standpoint, justly.
Let us pass on a few centuries. We then meet at the University of Paris with a man who is but little known in literature; for what he has written gives no idea of his personality; what he has written seems pedantic. But personally he must have worked in a magnificent way; personally he seems to have worked principally in such a way that he brought into his circle something like a renewal of the Greek conception of the world. He was the personification of the Renaissance. He died in 1518, working until the time of his death at the Paris University. This personality was related to the Greek world—though much more on the exoteric side—in the same way as the Manichaean Bishop Faustinus was related to the Manichees, who above all else had received, among many other things in their traditions, all the great and good aspects of the third post-Atlantean, the Egyptian-Chaldean age. Thus there was this Manichaean Bishop Faustinus, who came in touch with Augustine, and who, through what he was, had preserved the occult foundations of the third post-Atlantean age. In 1518 there died in Paris a man who had carried over, though exoterically, certain aspects of the foundation of the fourth post-Atlantean age. This caused him to impress those who worked around him in traditional Christianity as weird, sinister. The monks looked upon him as their deadly enemy; yet he made a great impression upon Erasmus of Rotterdam when the latter was in Paris. But it seemed to Erasmus as if his external environment were ill-suited to the individuality which really lived within this remarkable soul; and when Erasmus had departed and gone to England, he wrote to this man, who in the meantime had become his friend, that he wished his friend could free himself from his gouty physical body and fly through the air to England, for there he would find in the external environment a much better soil for what he felt in his soul. The fact that the personality who worked at that time could give rise to Greek feeling and sensation in such an evident manner, we see with special clearness if we bear in mind the relationship between the refined and sensitive Erasmus and this personality. Thus, just at the very beginning of the age of selfhood, one might say, lived this personality who died in Paris in 1518. He lived as an enemy of those who wished to adapt the life of human souls to the age of selfhood, and who shuddered, as it were, at a soul who could work in such a way because he wished to conjure up another age, when man was, so to say, closer to the selfhood of the astral body—the Greek age. This personality who was called Faustus Andrelinus affected Erasmus very sympathetically.
In the sixteenth century, in central Europe, we meet with another personality, who is represented as being a sort of travelling minstrel, regarding whom we are told that he deviated from the traditional theology. This personality no longer wished to call himself a theologian, calling himself a man of the world and a doctor; he placed his Bible on the shelf for a time, and engaged in the study of nature. Now the study of nature, in the age when the transition took place from all that was ancient to all that is modern, was also such that it brought to man the astral selfhood, just as did Manichaeism and the ancient thought of Greece. Thus what stood at that time on the border between ancient alchemy and modern chemistry, between ancient astrology and modern astronomy, etc., brought the astral selfhood home to man. This peculiar flickering and shimmering of natural science between the ancient and modern standpoints brought home to man—when he laid his Bible for a time on the shelf—such an astral activity that it necessitated coming to an understanding with egotism. No wonder that those shuddered at it, who with their traditions wished to adjust themselves to the age of selfhood in which the consciousness-soul had already fully dawned; and there arose in Central Europe the legend of the third Faust, John Faust, also called George Faust, an actual historical personality. And the sixteenth century welded together all the horror of the egotism of the astral body by combining the three Fausts, the Faust of Augustine, that of Erasmus, and the Faust of Central Europe, into one—into that figure depicted in popular books in Central Europe, which also became the Faust of Marlowe. Out of a complete reversal of this character Goethe created his Faust, clearly showing us that it is possible not to shudder at the bearer of that which brings home to us the essence of the astral, but to understand him better, so that to us he may be evidence of a development which will call forth from us the words, ‘We can redeem him.’ Whole ages have occupied themselves with the question of the egoistic nature of the astral body, and in legendary stories and, indeed, even in history echoes the horror of man at its nature, and the human longing to solve the problem of this astral body in the right manner, in a manner corresponding to the wise guidance of the world, and to the esoteric development of the individual human soul.
Achter Vortrag
Gestern versuchte ich, auf zwei Legenden, auf die Paradieseslegende und die Gralslegende hinzuweisen, versuchte ich darauf aufmerksam zu machen, wie diese beiden Legenden eigentlich okkulte Imaginationen darstellen, welche wirklich erlebt werden können, wenn ein entsprechender Augenblick eintritt. Wenn der Mensch unabhängig von seinem physischen und ätherischen Leibe - wie er unbewußt im Schlafe ist - bewußt hellseherisch wahrnimmt und sich für die Wahrnehmungen anregt von seinem physischen Leib, dann ergibt sich die Paradieseslegende; wenn er sich anregt von seinem ätherischen Leibe, dann ergibt sich die Gralslegende. Nun muß darauf aufmerksam gemacht werden, daß ja solche Legenden gewissermaßen wie Dichtungen oder wie religiöse Legenden gegeben werden und in einer gewissen Art in einem bestimmten Zeitalter der Menschheit zugänglich gemacht werden. Der erste Ursprung solcher Legenden, die uns da in Form von Dichtungen oder in Form von religiösen Schriften entgegentreten in der physischen Entwicklungsgeschichte der Menschheit, geht eben von den Mysterien aus, in denen ihr Inhalt erst durch hellseherische Beobachtungen festgestellt worden ist. Und bei der Abfassung solcher Legenden ist besonders notwendig, daß die allergrößte Sorgfalt darauf verwendet werde, gerade jenen Inhalt und jenen Ton zu treffen, welcher dem Zeitalter und dem Volk, dem solche Legenden gegeben werden, besonders angemessen ist.
Wir haben nämlich ausgeführt in den Vorträgen, die gehalten worden sind, wie durch anthroposophisch-okkulte Entwicklung der Mensch gewisse Veränderungen erleidet an seinem physischen Leib, an seinem Ätherleib. Wir werden den astralischen Leib und das Selbst noch genauer zu betrachten haben und dann mit einigen Worten noch zurückkommen auf den physischen und Ätherleib. So sehen wir, daß der Mensch, wenn er diese Selbstentwicklung sich angedeihen läßt, um weiterzukommen durch die Aufnahme spirituellen Weisheits- und Wahrheitsgutes, dadurch dann Veränderungen in den Gliedern seiner geistigen und physischen Organisation hervorruft. Nun wissen wir aus der Darstellung, die aus der Akasha-Chronik von den verschiedensten Entwickelungsgebieten gegeben worden ist, daß da auch im Laufe der ganz normalen geschichtlichen Menschheitsentwicklung diese verschiedenen Glieder der Menschennatur gleichsam naturgemäß eine Veränderung erleiden.
Wir wissen, daß in der uralt indischen Zeit, der ersten Kulturperiode, die auf die große atlantische Katastrophe folgte, in Betracht kamen die Vorgänge des menschlichen Ätherleibes; wir wissen, daß dann während der urpersischen Kulturperiode in Betracht kamen die Veränderungen des menschlichen Astralleibes, während der ägyptisch-chaldäischen Zeit die Veränderungen der menschlichen Empfindungsseele und während der griechisch-lateinischen Zeit die Veränderungen der menschlichen Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele. In unserer Zeit kommen besonders in Betracht die Veränderungen der menschlichen Bewußtseinsseele. Und nun ist es wichtig, daß, wenn irgendeinem Zeitalter - sagen wir, jenem Zeitalter, in dem die Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele eine besondere Veränderung erleidet, wo die Tatsachen innerhalb dieser Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele besonders wichtig sind -, wenn einem solchen Zeitalter eine Legende gegeben wird, daß sie so gegeben wird, daß auf dieses Zeitalter ganz besondere Rücksicht genommen wird; daß man sich sagt innerhalb der Mysterienstätten, aus denen jene Legenden ausfließen: Die Legende muß so geartet sein, daß die Veränderungen, die vorgehen während unseres Zeitalters in der menschlichen Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele, gewappnet sind gerade gegen etwaige schädliche Einflüsse dieser Legende und daß sie ganz besonders für die günstigen Einflüsse dieser Legende geeignet sind.
Also es kann sich nicht darum handeln, daß der betreffende Angehörige eines Mysteriums, dem die Aufgabe zufällt, eine solche Legende der Welt mitzuteilen, sozusagen nur seinem innersten Impuls folgt, sondern er muß dem folgen, was ihm sein Zeitalter diktiert. Wir werden, gerade wenn wir einschlägige Betrachtungen in dieser Richtung anstellen, die Veränderungen besser verstehen, die namentlich mit dem menschlichen Astralleib vor sich gehen, wenn der Mensch eine esoterisch-okkulte Entwicklung durchmacht.
Dieser Astralleib, der lebt ja abgesondert bei dem Esoteriker oder bei demjenigen, der eine ernsthafte anthroposophische Entwicklung durchmacht, der Anthroposophie zu seinem Lebensinhalte macht. Er lebt aber bei dem gewöhnlichen Menschen nicht so lose, so selbständig wie bei dem geschilderten in Entwicklung begriffenen Menschen. Dieser Astralleib wird in einer gewissen Weise selbständig, trennt sich ab bei demjenigen, der eine Entwicklung durchmacht. Er geht nicht unbewußt in eine Art Schlafzustand über, aber er wird selbständig, trennt sich ab, macht gleichsam auf andere Weise das durch, was der Mensch sonst im Schlafzustand durchmacht; dadurch kommt dieser astralische Leib in seinen ihm gemäßen Zustand. Beim gewöhnlichen Menschen, der draußen in der exoterischen Welt lebt, ist dieser Astralleib mit den anderen Leibern verbunden; die anderen Leiber üben ihren entsprechenden Einfluß auf ihn aus. Da kommt die einzelne hervorstechende Eigenschaft eines solchen menschlichen Gliedes nicht in Betracht. Wenn aber dieser Astralleib herausgerissen wird, dann macht er seine Eigentümlichkeiten geltend. Und was sind denn die Eigentümlichkeiten des astralischen Leibes?
Nun, meine lieben Freunde, ich habe schon vielleicht zum Entsetzen manches hier Sitzenden auf diese Eigentümlichkeit hingewiesen. Diese Eigentümlichkeit des menschlichen Astralleibes auf der Erde ist nämlich der Egoismus. Und wenn der Astralleib, abgesehen von den übrigen Einflüssen, die von den andern Gliedern der Menschennatur herkommen, seine ureigenste Eigenschaft geltend macht, so ist dies eben der Egoismus, das Streben, in sich und bei sich ausschließlich zu sein. Das kommt dem Astralleib zu. Und für den Astralleib als solchen wäre es schlecht und schlimm, es stellte eine Unvollkommenbheit in ihm dar, wenn er nicht von der Kraft des Egoismus sich durchdringen könnte, wenn er nicht zu sich sagen könnte: Ich will im Grunde genommen alles nur durch mich erreichen, will alles, was ich arbeite, in mir verarbeiten, will einzig und allein alle Sorgfalt auf mich selber verwenden. Das ist die richtige Stimmung des Astralleibes. Wenn wir diese in Betracht ziehen, so werden wir verstehen, wie esoterische Entwicklung gerade nach dieser Richtung hin einzelne Gefahren hervorrufen kann. Es können zum Beispiel durch eine esoterische Entwicklung, weil diese notwendigerweise den Astralleib etwas freimachen muß, solche Menschen, die - sagen wir - ohne Beachtung alles dessen, was wahre Theosophie geben will, sich auf den Boden einer nicht ganz ernsthaften Theosophie stellen, es können gerade solche Menschen diese Eigenschaft des Astralleibes, den Egoismus, im Verlaufe ihrer esoterischen Entwicklung besonders hervorkehren. Diese Beobachtung kann gemacht werden in vielen theosophischen und okkulten Gesellschaften, daß, während als ein Moralgrundsatz wohl gepredigt und immer wiederholt wird Selbstlosigkeit, allgemeine Menschenliebe, durch die naturgemäße Loslösung des Astralleibes gerade der Egoismus blüht. Für den Seelenbeobachter hat es ohnedies etwas auf der einen Seite durchaus Berechtigtes, auf der anderen Seite Bedenkliches, wenn geradezu zum oft ausgesprochenen Grundsatz - wohlgemerkt, ich sage nicht zum Grundsatz, sondern zum oft ausgesprochenen Grundsatz - gemacht wird allgemeine Menschenliebe; denn unter gewissen Voraussetzungen des Seelenlebens sagt das der Mensch am liebsten und am häufigsten, was er am wenigsten hat, wovon er merkt, daß es ihm am meisten fehlt, und wir können oft bemerken, daß Grundsätze dort am meisten betont werden, wo sie am meisten fehlen.
Allgemeine Menschenliebe sollte ja ohnedies in der Menschheitsentwicklung etwas werden, was die Seelen völlig beherrscht, in den Seelen lebt wie etwas Selbstverständliches und demgegenüber man das Gefühl hat: Du sollst es nicht so oft eitel nennen, du sollst es nicht überflüssigerweise zu oft im Munde führen. Gerade so wie ein ja überall bekanntes Gebot davon spricht: Du sollst den Namen des Gottes nicht eitel aussprechen, - so könnte es ein Gebot werden echter, wahrer Menschlichkeit und Humanität: Du sollst die Forderung der allgemeinen Menschenliebe, die den Grundlebenszug deiner Seele ausmachen soll, nicht zu oft eitel aussprechen. Denn wenn das Schweigen über manche Dinge ein viel besseres Erziehungsmittel ist als das Sprechen, so gilt es insbesondere bei solchen Dingen, daß das Schweigen und Still-imHerzen-Kultivieren ein viel, viel besseres Mittel ist, die betreffende Eigenschaft zu entwickeln, als das oftmalige Aussprechen.
Nun hat zunächst die Vertretung dieses exoterischen Grundsatzes nichts zu tun mit dem, wovon eben gesprochen worden ist als der ureigensten Eigenschaft des astralischen Leibes: Egoismus, Streben in sich zu sein, bei sich zu sein, durch sich zu sein. Es fragt sich jetzt: Wie ist es denn möglich, diese - gebrauchen wir ruhig den Ausdruck - zunächst uns abscheulich erscheinende Eigenschaft des astralischen Leibes, daß er ein absoluter Egoist sein will, in einem richtigen Licht zu sehen? Gehen wir einmal so vor, daß wir von einfachen Tatsachen des Lebens ausgehen.
Es gibt Fälle, wo der Egoismus sich erweitert schon im gewöhnlichen Leben, und wo wir gewissermaßen es als eine notwendige Einrichtung des Lebens ansehen müssen, daß der Egoismus sich erweitert. Betrachten Sie zum Beispiel den Grundzug mancher Mutterliebe und versuchen Sie zu verstehen, wie da der Egoismus sich erweitert von der Mutter auf das Kind. Man darf sagen: Je mehr man hineindringt in weniger gebildete Volksmassen und man möchte sagen - die Löwenart, mit der die Mütter ihre Kinder verteidigen, beobachtet, desto mehr merkt man, wie der Mutter der Angriff auf ihr Kind einen Angriff auf sich selbst bedeutet. Ihr Selbst ist erweitert auf das Kind, und es ist so, daß die Mutter eine Attacke auf ein Glied von ihr selbst nicht mehr empfinden würde als eine Attacke auf ihr Kind. Denn das, was sie in ihrem Selbst fühlt, überträgt sie auf das Kind, und wir könnten nichts Besseres finden für die Einrichtung der Welt, als wenn in einer solchen Weise der Egoismus von einem Wesen auf die anderen sich übertrüge und das eine Wesen das andere gleichsam zu sich rechnete und gerade deshalb seinen Egoismus auf dieses Wesen ausdehnte. Wir sehen also, daß der Egoismus aufhört, seine Schattenseiten zu entwickeln, wenn sich das Wesen erweitert, wenn das Wesen sein Fühlen und Denken in ein anderes Wesen hineinverlegt und dieses als zu sich gehörig betrachtet. Mütter machen dadurch, daß sie auf der einen Seite ihren Egoismus auf das Kind ausdehnen, auch wiederum Anspruch auf das Kind als ihr Eigentum; sie rechnen es auch wiederum durchaus zu sich, sie machen es so, wie der astralische Leib es macht: Alles, was mit mir in Zusammenhang steht, durch mich, zu mir, mit mir und so weiter.
Wir könnten selbst in trivialeren Fällen, als es die Mutterliebe ist, noch etwas Ähnliches sehen. Nehmen wir einen Menschen an, der Haus und Hof und Feld hat und darauf arbeitet. Nehmen wir an, dieser Mensch hätte - nun, nennen Sie es meinetwillen die Schrulle -, er hätte die Schrulle, Haus und Hof und Feld und seine Arbeiter so zu lieben wie seinen eigenen Leib; er betrachtete gleichsam die Sache so, daß sich sein Leib fortsetzt und daß er Haus und Hof und Feld und seine Leute miteinander so liebt, wie manche Dame, unter gewissen Voraussetzungen, ihr Kleid so liebt wie das, was zu ihrem eigenen Leib gehört. Da erweitert sich das eigene Wesen über die Umgebung gewissermaßen. Wenn sich nun die Sorgfalt des betreffenden Menschen so auf diese Umgebung erstreckt, daß er alles das, wovon hier die Rede war, so hütet und jede Attacke so abwehrt, wie wenn sie seinem eigenen Leibe gälte, dann - muß man sagen - ist die Tatsache, daß diese ganze Sphäre mit seinem Egoismus überzogen wird, etwas der Sache außerordentlich Förderliches.
Unter Umständen kann das, was man Liebe nennt, sehr selbstsüchtig sein. Man betrachte nur das Leben einmal; man versuche zu prüfen, wie oft das, was man lieben nennt, selbstsüchtig ist. Aber es kann auch ein über die Person hinaus erweiterter Egoismus sehr selbstlos sein, das heißt er kann das, was zu ihm gehört, ungeheuer schützen und hegen und pflegen. Gerade an einer solchen Sache sollen wir lernen, daß sich das Leben nicht in Begriffe empfahlen läßt. Wir reden von Egoismus und Altruismus, und man kann sehr schöne Systeme machen mit solchen Begriffen wie Egoismus und Altruismus. Die Tatsachen zermürben solche Systeme; denn wenn der Egoismus sein Interesse an der Umgebung so erweitert, daß er diese betrachtet wie zu ihm selbst gehörig und sie so hegt und pflegt, dann wird der Egoismus zur Selbstlosigkeit. Und wenn der Altruismus so wird, daß er die ganze Welt nur mit dem beglücken will, was er gerne hat, wenn er aller Welt seine Gedanken und Empfindungen mit aller Gewalt aufdrängen will und übergehen will zu dem Grundsatz: «Und willst du nicht mein Bruder sein, dann schlag ich dir den Schädel ein», - dann kann selbst der Altruismus sehr selbstsüchtig werden. Im Begriffe läßt sich die Wirklichkeit, die in Kräften und in Tatsachen lebt, nicht hineinpfahlen, und ein großer Teil desjenigen, was sich dem Menschheitsfortschritt entgegenstemmit, liegt darin, daß immer wieder und wiederum der Glaube in unreifen Köpfen und in unreifen Geistern entsteht, daß sich die Wirklichkeit in Begriffe irgendwie hineinpfropfen lasse.
Der astralische Leib ist dadurch zu charakterisieren, daß er ein Egoist ist. Die Folge davon ist, daß jede Entwicklung, die den Astralleib freimacht, damit rechnen muß, daß sich die Interessen des Menschen erweitern, immer weiter und weiter werden. Ja, wenn unser astralischer Leib sich in der richtigen Weise loslösen soll von den übrigen Gliedern der Menschennatur, dann muß das Interesse unseres Astralleibes über die ganze Erde und Erdenmenschheit gehen. Es müssen in der Tat die Interessen der Menschheit auf der Erde unsere Interessen werden; es muß aufhören das Interesse, irgendwie an Persönliches nur anzuknüpfen; es muß alles, was den Menschen betrifft, nicht nur in unserer Zeit, sondern was den Menschen jemals in der ganzen Erdenentwicklung betroffen hat, unser tiefstes Interesse erregen; wir müssen in die Lage kommen, nicht nur diejenigen, die mit uns blutsverwandt sind, nicht nur das, was für Haus und Hof und Feld mit uns zusammenhängt, wie eine Fortsetzung unseres Eigenen zu betrachten, sondern alles, was die Erdenentwicklung ausmacht, zu unserer Angelegenheit machen.
Wenn wir in unserem Astralleib Interesse haben für alle Angelegenheiten der Erde, wenn alle Angelegenheiten der Erde unsere eigenen Angelegenheiten sind, dann dürfen wir uns der Egoität unseres Astralleibes überlassen. Das aber ist notwendig, daß die Interessen der Menschheit auf der Erde unsere Interessen werden. Betrachten Sie von diesem Gesichtspunkt aus die zwei Legenden, von denen ich gestern gesprochen habe! Wenn sie einer Menschheit gegeben werden, dann werden sie gegeben unter dem Gesichtspunkt, daß der Mensch hinaufgehoben werde von jedem Einzelinteresse zu dem allgemeinen Erdeninteresse.
Die Paradieseslegende führt den Menschen unmittelbar hin bis zu jenem Ausgangspunkt der Erdenentwicklung, wo der Mensch die erste Inkarnation noch nicht betreten hatte, oder wo er sie eben betritt, wo Luzifer an ihn herantritt, wo er noch vor der Gesamtentwicklung steht, wo er tatsächlich alle menschheitlichen Interessen in seine eigene Brust hereinnehmen kann. Die größtdenkbare Erziehungslegende, das größtdenkbare Erziehungsproblem liegt in der Paradieseserzählung, in jener Erzählung, die den Menschen hinaufhebt zum Gesichtspunkt der ganzen Menschheit, die ein Interesse, welches in jedes Menschen Brust sprechen kann, auch in jedes Menschen Brust hineinprägt. Wenn die Bilder der Paradieseslegende, so, wie wir sie zu begreifen versuchten, in die Menschenseele hereindringen, so wirkt das so, daß der Astralleib sich davon durchdringt, und daß unter dem Einflusse dieses den Gesichtskreis über die ganze Erde erweiternden Menschenwesens der Astralleib auch alles das, was jetzt in seine Sphäre hereintritt, zu seinem Interesse machen darf. Er hat sich dazu erzogen, die Interessen der Erde als seine Interessen betrachten zu dürfen. Versuchen Sie, meine lieben Freunde, in vollem Ernst und in voller Würde zu betrachten, was eigentlich in einer solchen Legende für eine universelle pädagogische Kraft liegt, was für ein spiritueller Impuls in einer solchen Legende liegt.
Ähnlich ist es mit der Gralslegende. Während die Paradieseslegende sozusagen gegeben ist für die Menschheit der Erde, insofern sich diese Menschheit zurückwendet zum Ursprung, zum Ausgangspunkt der Erdenentwicklung, während die Paradieseslegende also dafür gegeben ist, auf den Horizont der ganzen Menschheitsentwicklung sich hinaufzuheben, ist die Gralslegende dazu gegeben, ins tiefste Innere des astralischen Leibes sich zu versenken, in die ureigensten Interessen dieses astralischen Leibes; weil dieser eben, wenn er nur sich selbst überlassen wird, ein Egoist wird, der nur seine ureigensten Interessen betrachtet.
Man kann eigentlich, wenn es sich um die Interessen des Astralleibes handelt, nur nach zwei Richtungen hin abirren. Diese zwei Richtungen sind die Richtung nach dem Amfortas und, bevor Amfortas zur völligen Erlösung kommt, nach dem Parzival. Mitten drinnen liegt die richtige Entwicklung des Menschen, insofern sein astralischer Leib in Betracht kommt. Dieser astralische Leib strebt also danach, in sich die Kräfte des Egoismus zu entwickeln. Wenn er aber in diesen Egoismus persönliche Interessen hineinbringt, dann wird er angefressen; er wird gleichsam, während er sich über die ganze Erde ausdehnen sollte, zusammengeschrumpft auf die einzelne Persönlichkeit. Das darf nicht sein! Denn wenn es geschieht, wird durch die Wirkung der Persönlichkeit, die ihren Ich-Ausdruck im Blute findet, die ganze menschliche Persönlichkeit verwundet: man irrt nach der Amfortasseite ab. Des Amfortas Grundfehler besteht darin, daß er in die Sphäre, wo der Astralleib sich die Berechtigung erworben haben sollte, Egoist zu sein, daß er in diese hinaufträgt dasjenige, was noch an persönlichen Begierden und Wünschen im Menschen sein kann. In dem Augenblick ist es heillos, wenn man in die Sphäre, wo der astralische Leib von den persönlichen Interessen sich lösen sollte, persönliche Interessen mitnimmt; dann ist man der verwundete Amfortas.
Aber auch die andere Abirrung kann zum Unheil führen und führt nur dann nicht zu Unheil, wenn die Wesenheit, die diesem Unheil ausgesetzt ist, in solche Unschuld getaucht ist wie Parzival. Parzival sieht den Heiligen Gral wiederholt vorübergetragen werden. Er begeht gewissermaßen ein Unrecht. Jedesmal wenn der Heilige Gral vorübergetragen wird, hat er die Frage auf den Lippen, für wen eigentlich diese Speise sei; er fragt aber nicht, und zuletzt ist das Mahl fertig, ohne daß er gefragt hat. Daher muß er abziehen nach diesem Mahle, ohne daß er die Möglichkeit hat, etwas Zurückgelassenes noch zu holen. Es ist wirklich so, wie wenn der noch nicht völlig reife Mensch einen Augenblick das Hellsehen hätte in der Nacht, wie wenn er wie durch einen Abgrund getrennt wäre von dem, was in der Burg seiner Leiblichkeit enthalten ist, und er einen Blick hineintun würde, dann aber, ohne daß er die entsprechende Erkenntnis gewonnen hätte, das heißt ohne daß er die Frage getan hat, würde alles sich ihm wiederum schließen. Er würde, auch wenn er dann erwachte, nicht wieder in diese Burg hineinkommen können. - Was versäumt eigentlich Parzival?
Wir haben gehört, was der Heilige Gral enthält. Er enthält das, wovon sich das physische Instrument des Menschen auf der Erde nähren muß als dem Extrakt, dem rein mineralischen Extrakt, der aus allen Nahrungsmitteln gewonnen wird und der sich verbindet im edelsten Teil des menschlichen Gehirns mit den edelsten Sinneseindrücken, Eindrücken, die durch die Sinne in uns hineinkommen. Ja, wem soll diese Speise gereicht werden? Eigentlich soll sie gereicht werden - das zeigt sich uns, wenn wir aus der exoterischen Dichterdarstellung in die esoterische Mysteriendarstellung eintreten -, eigentlich soll sie gereicht werden demjenigen Menschen, der ein Verständnis gewonnen hat für das, was den Menschen reif macht, wirklich nach und nach bewußt sich zu dem zu erheben, was dieser Heilige Gral ist. Wodurch erlangt man denn die Fähigkeit, sich bewußt zu erheben zu dem, was der Heilige Gral ist?
Es wird in der Dichtung gleichsam mit Fingern darauf hingedeutet, für wen eigentlich der Heilige Gral ist. Wenn man eingeht auf die Mysteriendarstellung der Gralslegende, dann sogar noch ganz besonders. In der ursprünglichen Gralslegende ist der Beherrscher der Burg ein Fischerkönig, ein König über ein Fischervolk. Ein anderer war auch mit einem Fischervolk zusammen, der nur nicht König dieser Fischer sein wollte, sondern etwas anderes unter diesen Fischern; der es verschmäht hat, wie ein König über sie zu herrschen, der ihnen etwas anderes gebracht hat als der herrschende König: der Christus Jesus. Hingedeutet wird also darauf, daß die Abirrung beim Fischerkönig - denn das ist eigentlich Amfortas in der ursprünglichen Legende -, daß diese Abirrung beim Fischerkönig diejenige ist, welche nach der einen Seite geht. Er ist sozusagen doch nicht ganz würdig, durch den Gral wirklich das Heil zu empfangen. Er ist es aus dem Grunde nicht, weil er mit Machtmitteln beherrschen will sein Fischervolk; er läßt nicht nur den Geist unter diesem Fischervolke walten.
Parzival ist zunächst nicht so weit innerlich offen, daß er in selbstbewußter Weise fragt: Wozu der Gral? - Was braucht es nun? — Bei dem Fischerkönig brauchte es, daß er sein persönliches Interesse abtötete und sein Interesse so weit machte wie das Interesse des Christus Jesus für die allgemeine Menschheit. Bei Parzival ist notwendig, daß er hinaufhebt sein Interesse über das bloß unschuldige Anschauen zum innerlichen Verstehen dessen, was in jedem Menschen dasselbe ist, was der ganzen Menschheit zukommt, die Gabe des Heiligen Gral. So schwebt in einer wunderbaren Weise zwischen Parzifal und Amfortas oder dem ursprünglichen Fischerkönig mitten drinnen das Ideal des Mysteriums von Golgatha. Und es wird in zarter Weise so angedeutet gerade an der entscheidenden Stelle der Legende, daß auf der einen Seite der Fischerkönig zuviel Persönlichkeit bis in die Sphären des astralischen Leibes mitgenommen hat und auf der anderen Seite Parzival steht, der noch zu wenig allgemeines Welteninteresse dort hinaufgetragen hat, der noch zu naiv, zu wenig fühlend ist mit dem allgemeinen Welteninteresse. Das ist gerade auch das ungeheuer Pädagogische der Gralslegende, daß sie so in die Seelen hereinwirken konnte bei den Schülern des Heiligen Gral, daß man etwas vor sich hatte wie eine Waage: auf der einen Seite das, was bei Amfortas war, und auf der anderen das, was bei Parzifal war; daß man dann wußte, das Gleichgewicht ist herzustellen. Wenn der astralische Leib seinem ureigensten Interesse folgt, wird er sich hinaufheben zu jenem Horizont allgemeinster Menschlichkeit, der dann erreicht wird, wenn zur Wahrheit das Wort gemacht wird: Wo zwei in meinem Namen vereinigt sind, bin ich mitten unter ihnen, gleichgültig, wo in der Erdenentwicklung diese zwei sich finden.
Ich bitte Sie, gerade in diesem Punkte ja nicht einen Teil für das Ganze zu nehmen, sondern die heutige und morgige Betrachtung durchaus zusammenzunehmen, denn der einzelne Teil kann Mißverständnisse hervorrufen; aber es ist durchaus notwendig, daß an diesem Punkte der menschliche Astralleib in seiner Entwicklung zum Horizont der Menschheit hinaufgehoben werde in einer ganz besonderen Weise, so daß allgemeinste Menschheitsinteressen seine Interessen werden, daß er sich beleidigt, verletzt, trauernd fühlt in sich selber, wenn irgendwo die Menschheit verletzt wird. Dazu ist notwendig, daß der Mensch, wenn er allmählich dazu gelangt, daß sein astralischer Leib frei, unabhängig wird von den übrigen Gliedern der Menschennatur durch die esoterische Entwicklung, daß er dann sich wappnet und schützt zunächst, namentlich gegen die beliebigen Einflüsse anderer astralischer Leiber; denn wenn der astralische Leib frei wird, so ist er nicht mehr geschützt durch den physischen und Ätherleib, die gleichsam eine feste Burg sind für den astralischen Leib. Er ist frei, er wird durchlässig und es können sehr leicht die Kräfte, die in anderen Astralleibern sind, in ihn hereinwirken. Stärkere Astralleiber als der eigene können da Einfluß gewinnen auf ihn, wenn er sich nicht wappnen kann durch seine eigenen Kräfte. Es wäre verhängnisvoll, wenn jemand ganz bis zur freien Handhabung seines astralischen Leibes hinaufkäme und so unschuldig bliebe mit Bezug auf das Verhältnis des astralischen Leibes, wie Parzival im Anfang ist. Das geht nicht; denn dann würden alle möglichen, von Astralleibern ausgehende Einflüsse auf seinen Astralleib die entsprechende Wirkung haben können.
Sehen Sie, meine lieben Freunde, in gewisser Beziehung kann auch in der äußeren, exoterischen Welt das Bedeutung haben, worauf jetzt eben hingedeutet wird. Die Menschen leben ja über die Erde hin in gewissen einzelnen Religionssystemen. Diese Religionssysteme haben ihre Kulte, sie haben ihre Ritualien. Diese Ritualien umgeben den Menschen mit demjenigen, was ja durchaus Imaginationen sind, die mit Hilfe des Astralleibes aus höheren Welten genommen sind. In dem Augenblick, wo solch eine Religionsgemeinschaft einen Menschen aufnimmt, ist er inmitten von Imaginationen, die seinen astralischen Leib, während der Ritus auf ihn wirkt, befreien; wenigstens für kurze Augenblicke wird bis zu einem gewissen Grade der astralische Leib frei innerhalb irgendeines religiösen Ritus. Und je stärker der Ritus ist, je mehr er unterdrückt die Einflüsse des Äther- und physischen Leibes, je mehr er mit solchen Mitteln arbeitet, daß der astralische Leib emanzipiert wird, desto mehr wird während der entsprechenden Zeremonie der astralische Leib herausgelockt aus dem Äther- und physischen Leib. Es ist deshalb auch - verzeihen Sie den Ausdruck, es könnte scheinen, als ob ich den Ausdruck mit einem gewissen Spott gebrauchen würde, es ist aber kein Spott -, es ist deshalb nirgends so gefährlich zu schlafen als in der Kirche, weil im Schlafe ohnedies schon der astralische Leib sich trennt vom physischen und Ätherleib und weil das, was im Ritus vorgeht, eben sich einnistet in den astralischen Leib; denn er ist mit Hilfe von astralischen Leibern aus den höheren Welten herabgenommen. Also der sogenannte Kirchenschlaf, der ja in manchen Gegenden bei vielen eine sehr beliebte Sache ist, der sollte eigentlich vermieden werden. Es handelt sich da mehr um Kirchen, die einen Ritus haben, weniger um diejenigen Religionsgemeinschaften, die vermöge der Anschauungen der Neuzeit schon von einem gewissen Ritus abgekommen sind oder auf ein Minimum eines Ritus sich beschränken. Hier werden diese Dinge nicht besprochen mit irgendeiner Vorliebe oder Nichtvorliebe für dieses oder jenes Bekenntnis, sondern rein nach Maßgabe der objektiven Tatsachen. Wenn der Mensch also seinen Astralleib von den übrigen Gliedern der Menschennatur emanzipiert hat, so haben auf ihn leicht die Impulse, die Kräfte Einfluß, die wiederum mit Hilfe von Astralleibern gewonnen sind. Und hier liegt auch die Möglichkeit, daß eine Persönlichkeit, die zur freien Benutzung ihres Astralleibes gekommen ist, wenn sie stärker ist als eine andere, die auch in gewisser Weise ihren Astralleib emanzipieren kann, daß die erste Persönlichkeit auf die zweite einen ungeheuren Einfluß gewinnen kann. Es ist dann förmlich wie ein Übertragen der Kräfte des einen Astralleibes der stärkeren Persönlichkeit auf den der schwächeren Persönlichkeit. Und wenn man dann hellseherisch die schwächere Persönlichkeit betrachtet, so trägt sie in ihrem Astralleibe eigentlich ganz die Bilder und Imaginationen der stärkeren astralischen Persönlichkeit.
Sie sehen, wie notwendigerweise die Moral wachsen muß auf einem Boden, auf dem der Okkultismus gepflegt werden soll; denn man kann natürlich nicht den Okkultismus pflegen, ohne daß man in Wirklichkeit anstrebt, die Astralleiber zu emanzipieren von den übrigen Gliedern der Menschennatur. Das Verderblichste ist aber, wenn auf dem Felde des Okkultismus die stärkeren Persönlichkeiten noch irgendwie nach Macht für ihre persönlichen Interessen und persönlichen Intentionen streben. Berechtigt, auf okkultem Felde zu wirken, sind eigentlich nur diejenigen Persönlichkeiten, die vollständig darauf verzichten, irgendwelchen persönlichen Einfluß zu haben, und das größte Ideal desjenigen Okkultisten, der etwas Berechtigtes erreichen soll, ist, durch seine Persönlichkeit gar nichts erreichen zu wollen; das, wofür er persönliche Sympathien oder Antipathien hat, möglichst von alledem auszuschalten, was er wirken will. Wer daher Sympathien oder Antipathien für dieses oder jenes hat und okkult wirken will, der muß diese Sympathien und Antipathien sorgfältig sozusagen für sein allerprivatestes Feld nur zusammentragen und auf seinem allerprivatesten Feld gelten lassen; er darf jedenfalls auf dem Boden, auf dem eine okkulte Bewegung blühen soll, nichts von diesen persönlichen Antipathien und Sympathien selber hegen und pflegen. Und so paradox es eigentlich klingt, so kann man doch sagen: Das Gleichgültigste für den okkulten Lehrer ist eigentlich für ihn seine Lehre, das Allergleichgültigste die Lehre, die er ja schließlich wirklich nur nach seinen Talenten und Temperamenten geben kann. Sie wird nur eine Bedeutung haben, wenn ihm an der Lehre als solcher nicht eigentlich irgendwie persönlich etwas liegt, sondern lediglich so viel liegt, als diese Lehre Seelen helfen kann. Daher wird auch kein okkulter Lehrer jemals einem Zeitalter etwas von seinen Kenntnissen aufdrängen, wenn er weiß, daß dieser Teil der Kenntnisse für dieses Zeitalter nichts taugt, daß er nur für ein anderes Zeitalter tauglich sein könnte. Dies alles kommt in Betracht, wenn von der eigenartigen Natur des Astralleibes unter dem Einfluß okkulter Entwicklung gesprochen wird.
In unserem Zeitalter, schon als es sich vorbereitete und wie es sich weiterentwickelt hat, gibt es noch eine Komplikation. Was ist denn das Wesentliche unseres Zeitalters? Unser Zeitalter ist das der Entwicklung der Bewußtseinsseele. Nichts ist so sehr verknüpft mit dem Egoismus, der an die engsten, persönlichsten Interessen herandringt, als die Bewußtseinsseele. Daher gibt es in keinem Zeitalter eine solche Versuchung, die persönlichsten Interessen mit den allgemeinen Menschheitsinteressen zu verwechseln, wie in unserem Zeitalter. Dieses Zeitalter mußte ja allmählich die Menschheitsinteressen gleichsam zusammenziehen in das menschliche Ich herein, nämlich in den Teil des menschlichen Ich, der die Bewußtseinsseele ist. Wir sehen, wie sich gegen unser Zeitalter hin die menschlichen Interessen nach dem Punkt des Ich, nach dem Punkt der Egoität zusammendrängen. In dieser Beziehung ist ungeheuer lehrreich, wenn man sich einmal tiefernst fragt, ob so etwas, wie es zum Beispiel schon der heilige Augustinus in seinen Konfessionen geschrieben hat, jemals möglich gewesen wäre im alten Griechenland.
Das wäre absolut ausgeschlossen gewesen. Der Grieche war seiner ganzen Natur nach so, daß sein Inneres mit dem Äußeren in einem gewissen Einklang stand, so daß äußere Interessen zugleich innere Interessen waren und innere Interessen nach dem Äußeren übergriffen. Nehmen Sie die ganze griechische Kultur: Sie ist so, daß man noch ein gewisses Verknüpftsein des menschlichen Innern mit dem Äußern überall voraussetzen muß. Man versteht erst die griechische Kunst, die griechischen Tragiker, die griechischen Geschichtsschreiber und Philosophen, wenn man weiß, wie bei den Griechen noch das Seelische ergossen war in das Äußere und das Äußere sich wie selbstverständlich zusammenfügte mit dem Innern. Damit vergleiche man so etwas wie die Konfessionen des Augustinus. Alles lebt für ihn; in seinem Inneren sucht er, gräbt er, forscht er. Man versuche da die ganze persönliche individuelle Note in den Schriften des Augustinus überall zu verfolgen; man wird sie finden. Man muß sagen: Augustinus lebt lange vor dem Hereinbrechen unseres Zeitalters; aber er bereitet es vor; er ist der Geist, in dessen Schriften wir, lange vor dem Sonnenaufgang, die erste Morgenröte des Zeitalters finden, das ganz auf die Bewußtseinsseele zugeschnitten ist. In jeder Zeile des Augustinus ist das wahrzunehmen, und jede Zeile des Augustinus unterscheidet sich für ein feineres Fühlen von alledem, was im alten Griechentum möglich war.
Und jetzt, wenn man das weiß: Augustinus lebt entgegen dem Zeitalter, in dem die Egoität, die Beschäftigung des Menschen mit seinem eigenen Innern schon innerhalb des physischen Leibes wie eine Art Charakter dieses Zeitalters wird, dann kann man begreifen, daß derjenige, der wie Augustinus wiederum weitere Interessen daneben hat und hinsieht zu dem gesamten Entwicklungsgang der Menschheit, daß der ein richtiges Schaudern bekommt, wenn an ihn herantritt eine Menschenwesenheit, die ahnen läßt, daß bei einer gewissen Entwicklung nach der Höhe hinauf der Astralleib naturgemäß zu einer Art Egoismus kommen muß. Augustinus geht rein und edel und groß auf die Egoität los. Man möchte sagen, selbstlos geht er auf die Egoität los. Aber er gerät in das Zeitalter hinein, wo die Menschheit sich losgelöst hat von den großen Interessen des Äußeren. Man bedenke, wie noch im dritten nachatlantischen Zeitraum jeder ägyptische Mensch seinen Blick hinaufrichtete nach den Sternenwelten und in den Sternen menschliche Schicksale las, — wie da die Seele verbunden war mit allgemeinen Interessen. Das konnte man natürlich nur erreichen, als der Mensch noch fähig war, seinen Astralleib gesonderter im alten elementaren Hellsehen zu erhalten von dem physischen Leib. Daher mußte Augustinus schaudern, wenn ihm ein Mensch gegenübertrat, der ihn gleichsam erinnerte: mit einer höheren Entwicklung wächst zunächst der Egoismus! Das kann er begreifen, das fühlt er, das gibt ihm sein Instinkt: er lebt ja dem Zeitalter der Egoität entgegen. Da fühlt er, indem ihm ein Mensch gegenübertritt, der eine Höherentwicklung darstellt über diejenige im physischen Leib hinaus: es geht gegen den Egoismus zu. Und er kann zugleich nicht begreifen, daß dieser Mensch noch herüberbringt ein allgemein-menschliches Interesse.
Versuchen Sie, diese Empfindung zu gewinnen, wie Augustinus gegenübersteht nach seinem eigenen Bekenntnis dem Manichäerbischof Faustinus — denn ihn habe ich geschildert. Als er diesem gegenüberstand, da empfand Augustinus, was ein Mensch empfinden kann, der sozusagen dem Zeitalter des Egoismus in edler Weise entgegengeht und nur durch die innere Kraft dieses Zeitalter schützen will gegen den Egoismus und der sich abwenden muß von einem Menschen, wie der Manichäerbischof Faustinus einer war. Er wendete sich ab von ihm, weil er ihm dasjenige darstellte, was wie etwas, das man nicht anrühren soll, erscheint; denn er birgt etwas in sich, wofür das Zeitalter der Egoität nimmermehr Verständnis finden kann im exoterischen Leben. Es tritt also dem Kirchenvater Augustinus der Manichäerbischof Faustinus gegenüber. Ihm, der dem Zeitalter der Bewußtseinsseele entgegengeht, tritt eine menschliche Wesenheit gegenüber, die in der Art, wie so etwas bewahrt werden kann in einer okkulten Weltenströmung, den Zusammenhang mit der geistigen Welt bewahrt und damit die Grundeigenschaft des astralischen Leibes, vor welcher dem Augustinus schaudert, von seinem Gesichtspunkt aus mit Recht schaudert.
Gehen wir ein paar Jahrhunderte weiter. Da tritt uns entgegen an der Universität in Paris ein Mensch, der in der Literatur wenig bekannt geworden ist, denn was er geschrieben hat, gibt keine Vorstellung seiner Persönlichkeit. Was er geschrieben hat, erscheint pedantisch, aber persönlich muß er großartig gewirkt haben; persönlich scheint er vor allen Dingen gewirkt zu haben so, daß er gleichsam in seine ganze Umgebung etwas wie eine Erneuerung griechischer Weltanschauung hereingebracht hat. Der rechte Renaissancemensch war er. Er starb 1518 und wirkte bis dahin an der Pariser Universität. Diese Persönlichkeit, sie verhielt sich sozusagen zu dem Wesen des Griechentums - wenn auch viel exoterischer —, wie sich der Manichäerbischof Faustinus zu dem Manichäertum verhielt, das ja vor allen Dingen in seine Traditionen neben vielem übrigen alle guten und großen Seiten der dritten nachatlantischen, der ägyptisch-chaldäischen Kulturperiode aufgenommen hatte.
Es gibt also diesen Manichäerbischof Faustinus, der uns im Zusammenhang mit Augustinus entgegentritt und der dadurch, daß er Manichäer ist, sich gerade die okkulten Untergründe der dritten nachatlantischen Kulturperiode bewahrt hat. 1518 stirbt in Paris ein Mensch, welcher gewisse - wenn auch exoterisch -, gewisse Seiten des Untergrundes der vierten nachatlantischen Kulturperiode herüberträgt. Dadurch war er unheimlich denjenigen, die im traditionellen Christentum dazumal in seiner Umgebung wirkten. Die Mönche betrachteten ihn als ihren Todfeind, aber er machte einen großen Eindruck auf Erasmus von Rotterdam, als sich dieser in Paris aufhielt. Nur kam es Erasmus von Rotterdam vor, als wenn die äußere Umgebung schlecht taugen würde zu demjenigen, was eigentlich im Innern dieser merkwürdigen Seele lebte. Und als Erasmus wiederum wegreiste und nach England gegangen war, schrieb er einmal an denjenigen, der mittlerweile sein Freund geworden war, er möge sich doch von seinem physischen Leib, in dem das Podagra herrschte, einmal freimachen und möge in der Luft nach England fliegen, da wäre an Boden viel mehr in der äußeren Umgebung zu finden für das, was er in seiner Seele empfinde. Daß in einer anschaulichen Weise diese Persönlichkeit, die dazumal gewirkt hat, erstehen lassen konnte griechisches Fühlen, griechisches Empfinden, das geht uns insbesondere hervor, wenn wir das Verhältnis des feinsinnigen Erasmus von Rotterdam zu dieser Persönlichkeit ins Auge fassen. So lebte - man möchte sagen - gerade am Ausgangspunkt des Zeitalters der Egoität diese Persönlichkeit, die da 1518 in Paris starb, so lebte sie als ein Feind derer, welche anpassen wollten das Leben der Menschenseelen dem Zeitalter der Egoität und welche eine Art von Schauder empfanden gegenüber einer solchen Seele, die deshalb so wirken konnte, weil sie ein anderes Zeitalter, wo sozusagen der Mensch näherstand der Egoität des astralischen Leibes, das griechische Zeitalter heraufzaubern wollte. Auf Erasmus von Rotterdam wirkte diese Persönlichkeit durchaus sympathisch. Diese Persönlichkeit wurde geheißen Faustus Andrelinos.
Im 16. Jahrhundert hatte man es in Mitteleuropa mit einer Persönlichkeit zu tun, welche wie eine Art fahrender Sänger hingestellt wird, von der das entsprechende Volksbuch erzählt, daß sie sich abwandte von der traditionellen Theologie. Diese Persönlichkeit wollte sich hernach keinen Theologen mehr nennen, nannte sich den Weltmenschen und Mediziner, legte die Bibel eine Weile unter die Bank und befaßte sich mit dem Studium der Natur. Nun ist auch das Studium der Natur gerade in dem Zeitalter, wo der Übergang von allem möglichen Alten zu allem möglichen Neuen stattfand, so, daß es dem Menschen ebenso wie das Manichäertum, wie das alte Griechentum, die astralische Egoität nahebringt. So brachte die astralische Egoität nahe das, was dazumal an der Grenzscheide stand der alten Alchemie und der neuen Chemie, der alten Astrologie und der neuen Astronomie und so weiter. Dieses eigentümliche Flimmern und Schimmern der Naturwissenschaft zwischen dem alten und dem neuen Standpunkt, das brachte den Menschen nahe, wenn er die Bibel eine Weile unter die Bank legte, einer solchen Astralität, wo man sich auseinanderzusetzen hat mit der Egoität. Kein Wunder, daß es diejenigen schauderte, die mit ihren Traditionen zurechtkommen wollten mit dem Zeitalter der Egoität, wo die Bewußtseinsseele schon vollständig ihren Aufgang gefunden hatte. Und es entstand in Mitteleuropa die Sage von dem dritten Faust, von dem Johannes Faust, auch Georg Faust genannt, der ja eine wirkliche historische Persönlichkeit gewesen ist. Und das 16. Jahrhundert schweißte zusammen allen Schauder vor der Egoität des astralischen Leibes, indem sie die drei Fauste, den des Augustinus, den des Erasmus und den Faust Mitteleuropas in eine Gestalt zusammenfügte, in jene Gestalt des mitteleuropäischen Volksbuches, die dann auch der Faust des Marlowe wird. Aus diesem Faust machte Goethe mit völliger Umkehrung seinen Faust, in welchem er uns klarmachen will: es gibt die Möglichkeit, nicht zu schaudern vor dem Träger dessen, der einem nahebringt die Astralität, sondern ihn besser zu verstehen, so daß er eine Entwicklung zeigen kann, so daß wir aussprechen können das Wort: «Wir können ihn erlösen.» Ganze Zeitalter setzten sich auseinander mit der Frage der Egoität des astralischen Leibes, und in ganzen Legendendichtungen, ja auch in der Historie klingt nach des Men sehen Schaudern vor der Egoität des astralischen Leibes und des Menschen Sehnsucht, das Problem dieses astralischen Leibes in der richtigen Weise zu lösen so, wie es der weisen Führung der Welt und der esoterischen Entwicklung der einzelnen Seele entspricht.
Eighth Lecture
Yesterday I attempted to point out two legends, the legend of paradise and the legend of the Grail, and to draw attention to how these two legends actually represent occult imaginings that can be truly experienced when the right moment arises. When human beings, independent of their physical and etheric bodies—as they are unconsciously in sleep—consciously perceive clairvoyantly and are stimulated to these perceptions by their physical bodies, the legend of Paradise arises; when they are stimulated by their etheric bodies, the legend of the Grail arises. Now it must be pointed out that such legends are, in a sense, given as poems or religious legends and are made accessible in a certain way at a certain time in human history. The first origin of such legends, which we encounter in the form of poetry or religious writings in the physical history of humanity, comes precisely from the mysteries, in which their content was first established through clairvoyant observations. And when composing such legends, it is particularly necessary to take the utmost care to strike precisely the right tone and content that is particularly appropriate for the age and the people to whom such legends are given.
For we have explained in the lectures that have been given how, through anthroposophical-occult development, human beings undergo certain changes in their physical body, in their etheric body. We will have to look more closely at the astral body and the self, and then return to the physical and etheric bodies with a few words. We see, then, that when human beings allow this self-development to take place in order to advance through the absorption of spiritual wisdom and truth, they thereby bring about changes in the members of their spiritual and physical organization. Now we know from the account given in the Akashic Records of the various areas of development that, in the course of normal human evolution, these different members of human nature undergo a natural change, as it were.
We know that in ancient Indian times, the first cultural period following the great Atlantean catastrophe, the processes of the human etheric body came into play; we know that during the ancient Persian cultural period, the changes in the human astral body came into consideration, during the Egyptian-Chaldean period the changes in the human sentient soul, and during the Greek-Latin period the changes in the human intellectual or emotional soul. In our time, the changes in the human consciousness soul are particularly important. And now it is important that when any age—let us say, that age in which the intellectual or emotional soul undergoes a particular change, when the facts within this intellectual or emotional soul are particularly important—when a legend is given to such an age, that it be given in such a way that special consideration is given to that age; that one says within the mystery centers from which these legends flow: The legend must be such that the changes taking place during our age in the human intellectual or emotional soul are armed against any harmful influences of this legend and that they are particularly suited to the beneficial influences of this legend.
So it cannot be a matter of the member of a mystery to whom the task falls of communicating such a legend to the world simply following his innermost impulse, so to speak, but he must follow what his age dictates to him. It is precisely when we consider things in this way that we can better understand the changes that take place in the human astral body when a person undergoes esoteric-occult development.
This astral body lives separately in the esotericist or in those who are undergoing serious anthroposophical development, who make anthroposophy the content of their lives. However, it does not live as loosely or as independently in ordinary people as it does in the people described above who are in the process of development. This astral body becomes independent in a certain way, separating itself from the person undergoing development. It does not unconsciously enter a kind of sleep state, but becomes independent, separates itself, and undergoes in a different way what the human being otherwise experiences in the sleep state; in this way, the astral body comes into its proper state. In the ordinary human being who lives out in the exoteric world, this astral body is connected with the other bodies; the other bodies exert their corresponding influence on it. The individual, distinctive characteristics of such a human member do not come into consideration. But when this astral body is torn away, its peculiarities come to the fore. And what are the peculiarities of the astral body?
Well, my dear friends, I have perhaps already pointed out this peculiarity to the horror of some of those sitting here. This peculiarity of the human astral body on Earth is egoism. And when the astral body, apart from the other influences coming from the other members of human nature, asserts its very own characteristic, this is precisely egoism, the striving to be exclusively in and with itself. This is the nature of the astral body. And for the astral body as such, it would be bad and terrible, it would represent an imperfection in it, if it could not be permeated by the power of egoism, if it could not say to itself: I want, in the bottom of my heart, to achieve everything through myself alone, I want to process everything I work on within myself, I want to devote all my care solely to myself. This is the right attitude of the astral body. If we consider this, we will understand how esoteric development can give rise to particular dangers in this direction. For example, through esoteric development, because it necessarily has to free the astral body somewhat, people who—let us say—without regard for everything that true theosophy wants to give, place themselves on the ground of a not entirely serious theosophy, precisely such people can bring out this characteristic of the astral body, egoism, in the course of their esoteric development. This observation can be made in many theosophical and occult societies, that while selflessness and universal love are preached as moral principles and repeated over and over again, it is precisely egoism that flourishes through the natural detachment of the astral body. For the observer of the soul, there is something entirely justified on the one hand, but also something questionable on the other, when universal love for humanity is made an oft-repeated principle—mind you, I do not say a principle, but an oft-repeated principle—because under certain conditions of the soul life, people most readily and most frequently say what they have least, what they realize they lack most, and we can often observe that principles are emphasized most where they are most lacking.
Universal love for humanity should, in any case, become something in the development of humanity that completely dominates the soul, lives in the soul as something self-evident, and in relation to which one has the feeling: You should not call it vain so often, you should not repeat it unnecessarily. Just as a well-known commandment says: You shall not take the name of God in vain, so it could become a commandment of genuine, true humanity and humaneness: You shall not too often utter in vain the demand for universal love for humanity, which should be the fundamental trait of your soul. For if silence about some things is a much better means of education than speech, then it is especially true of such things that silence and cultivating them quietly in the heart is a much, much better means of developing the quality in question than frequent utterance.
Now, the representation of this exoteric principle has nothing to do with what has just been spoken of as the most essential characteristic of the astral body: egoism, striving to be in oneself, to be with oneself, to be through oneself. The question now is: How is it possible to see in a proper light this characteristic of the astral body, which at first seems abhorrent to us, namely, that it wants to be an absolute egoist? Let us proceed by starting from simple facts of life.
There are cases where egoism expands even in ordinary life, and where we must regard its expansion as a necessary institution of life. Consider, for example, the basic trait of some mothers' love and try to understand how egoism expands from the mother to the child. One may say that the more one penetrates into less educated masses of people and observes the lion-like manner in which mothers defend their children, the more one notices how an attack on the child means an attack on the mother herself. Her self is extended to the child, and it is such that the mother would not feel an attack on a member of herself any more than an attack on her child. For what she feels in herself, she transfers to the child, and we could find nothing better for the constitution of the world than if egoism were transferred in this way from one being to another, and one being regarded the other as belonging to itself, and precisely for that reason extended its egoism to that being. We see, therefore, that egoism ceases to develop its dark sides when the being expands, when the being transfers its feelings and thoughts into another being and regards this as belonging to itself. By extending their egoism to their child, mothers also claim the child as their property; they also consider it to belong to themselves, they do what the astral body does: everything that is connected with me, through me, to me, with me, and so on.
We could see something similar even in cases more trivial than maternal love. Let us assume a person who has a house, a farm, and fields and works on them. Let us assume that this person has—well, call it a quirk, if you like—the quirk of loving his house, farm, fields, and workers as much as his own body; he regards the matter as if that his body continues and that he loves his house and farm and fields and his people as much as some women, under certain circumstances, love their clothes as part of their own bodies. In this way, one's own being expands beyond one's surroundings, so to speak. If the care of the person concerned extends to this environment to such an extent that he guards everything that has been mentioned here and defends it against every attack as if it were his own body, then – it must be said – the fact that this whole sphere is covered with his egoism is something extremely beneficial to the matter.
Under certain circumstances, what we call love can be very selfish. Just consider life; try to examine how often what we call love is selfish. But there can also be a form of egoism that extends beyond the individual and is very selfless, in that it protects, cherishes, and nurtures what belongs to it. It is precisely from such things that we should learn that life cannot be reduced to concepts. We talk about egoism and altruism, and one can construct very beautiful systems with such concepts as egoism and altruism. The facts wear down such systems; for when egoism extends its interest in its surroundings to such an extent that it regards them as belonging to itself and cherishes and nurtures them, then egoism becomes selflessness. And when altruism becomes such that it wants to make the whole world happy only with what it likes, when it wants to impose its thoughts and feelings on the whole world with all its might and adopt the principle: “And if you don't want to be my brother, then I'll smash your skull in,” then even altruism can become very selfish. The reality that lives in forces and facts cannot be pinned down in concepts, and a large part of what stands in the way of human progress lies in the fact that, again and again, the belief arises in immature minds and spirits that reality can somehow be grafted onto concepts.
The astral body can be characterized by the fact that it is egoistic. The consequence of this is that any development that frees the astral body must reckon with the fact that human interests will expand, becoming ever wider and wider. Yes, if our astral body is to detach itself in the right way from the other members of human nature, then the interest of our astral body must extend over the whole earth and the whole of humanity. The interests of humanity on earth must indeed become our interests; the interest in somehow attaching ourselves to personal things must cease; everything that concerns human beings not only in our time, but everything that has ever affected human beings throughout the entire development of the earth, must arouse our deepest interest; we must come to the point where we regard not only those who are related to us by blood, not only what is connected with our home and farm, as a continuation of our own being, but make everything that constitutes the development of the earth our own concern.
If we are interested in all matters of the earth in our astral body, if all matters of the earth are our own affairs, then we may abandon ourselves to the egoism of our astral body. But it is necessary that the interests of humanity on earth become our interests. Consider from this point of view the two legends I spoke of yesterday! When they are given to humanity, they are given from the point of view that human beings should be lifted up from their individual interests to the general interest of the earth.
The legend of paradise leads human beings directly to that starting point of Earth's development where human beings had not yet entered their first incarnation, or where they are just entering it, where Lucifer approaches them, where they still stand before the whole of development, where they can actually take all human interests into their own hearts. The greatest educational legend, the greatest educational problem conceivable, lies in the story of Paradise, in that story which lifts man up to the viewpoint of the whole of humanity, which impresses an interest that can speak to every human heart into every human heart. When the images of the Paradise legend, as we have tried to understand them, penetrate the human soul, the effect is that the astral body is permeated by them, and under the influence of this human being, whose vision extends over the whole earth, the astral body is also able to take an interest in everything that now enters its sphere. It has trained itself to regard the interests of the earth as its own. Try, my dear friends, to consider in all seriousness and dignity what universal educational power actually lies in such a legend, what spiritual impulse lies in such a legend.
It is similar with the legend of the Grail. While the legend of Paradise is, so to speak, given to the humanity of the earth insofar as this humanity turns back to its origin, to the starting point of the earth's development, while the legend of Paradise is thus given to lift us up to the horizon of the whole development of humanity, the legend of the Grail is given to to sink into the deepest interior of the astral body, into the most primordial interests of this astral body; because when left to itself, it becomes an egoist that considers only its own most primordial interests.
When it comes to the interests of the astral body, there are really only two directions in which one can stray. These two directions are the direction toward Amfortas and, before Amfortas achieves complete redemption, toward Parzival. In the middle lies the correct development of the human being, insofar as his astral body is concerned. This astral body therefore strives to develop the forces of egoism within itself. But when it brings personal interests into this egoism, it becomes corroded; while it should be expanding over the whole earth, it shrinks back into the individual personality. This must not happen! For if it does, the whole human personality is wounded by the effect of the personality, which finds its expression in the blood: one strays toward the Amfortas side. Amfortas' fundamental mistake is that he carries into the sphere where the astral body should have earned the right to be egoistic, he carries into this sphere whatever personal desires and wishes may still exist in the human being. The moment one takes personal interests into the sphere where the astral body should detach itself from personal interests, it is hopeless; then one is the wounded Amfortas.
But the other aberration can also lead to disaster, and only does not lead to disaster if the being exposed to this disaster is immersed in such innocence as Parzival. Parzival sees the Holy Grail being carried past him repeatedly. He commits a kind of injustice. Every time the Holy Grail is carried past, he has the question on his lips as to whom this food is actually intended; but he does not ask, and finally the meal is over without his having asked. Therefore, he must leave after this meal without having the opportunity to retrieve anything he has left behind. It is really as if a person who is not yet fully mature were to have a moment of clairvoyance at night, as if he were separated by an abyss from what is contained in the castle of his physical body, and he were to take a look inside, but then, without having gained the corresponding knowledge, that is, without having asked the question, everything would close again. Even if he then awoke, he would not be able to re-enter this castle. What does Parzival actually fail to do?
We have heard what the Holy Grail contains. It contains that which the physical instrument of man on earth must nourish itself with as the extract, the pure mineral extract, which is obtained from all foodstuffs and which combines in the noblest part of the human brain with the noblest sensory impressions, impressions that enter into us through the senses. Yes, to whom should this food be given? Actually, it should be given—this becomes clear to us when we move from the exoteric poetic representation to the esoteric mystery representation—actually, it should be given to those human beings who have gained an understanding of what makes human beings mature, who gradually become consciously aware of what this Holy Grail is. How does one attain the ability to consciously rise to what the Holy Grail is?
In the poem, it is pointed out, as it were, who the Holy Grail is actually for. This becomes even more apparent when one enters into the mystery representation of the Grail legend. In the original Grail legend, the ruler of the castle is a fisher king, a king over a fishing people. Another was also with a fishing people, but he did not want to be king of these fishermen, but something else among them; he spurned ruling over them like a king, and brought them something different from the ruling king: Christ Jesus. This suggests that the deviation of the fisher king – for that is actually Amfortas in the original legend – is a deviation that goes in one direction. He is, so to speak, not entirely worthy of truly receiving salvation through the Grail. He is not worthy because he wants to rule his fishermen with power; he does not allow the spirit to reign among these fishermen.
At first, Parzival is not inwardly open enough to ask in a self-conscious way: Why the Grail? What is needed now? — In the case of the Fisher King, it was necessary for him to kill his personal interest and make his interest as broad as the interest of Christ Jesus for the whole of humanity. It is necessary for Parzival to raise his interest above mere innocent observation to an inner understanding of what is the same in every human being, what belongs to all humanity, the gift of the Holy Grail. Thus, in a wonderful way, the ideal of the mystery of Golgotha hovers between Parzival and Amfortas, or the original Fisher King, in the middle. And it is delicately hinted at precisely at the decisive point in the legend that, on the one hand, the Fisher King has taken too much personality with him into the spheres of the astral body, and on the other hand, Parzival stands there who has not yet carried enough general world interest up there, who is still too naive, too insensitive to the general world interest. This is precisely the tremendous educational value of the Grail legend, that it was able to have such an effect on the souls of the disciples of the Holy Grail that one had something like a scale before one's eyes: on one side what was in Amfortas, and on the other what was in Parzival; so that one then knew that a balance had to be established. When the astral body follows its own innermost interest, it will lift itself up to that horizon of the most universal humanity, which is reached when the words become truth: Where two are united in my name, I am in their midst, regardless of where in the earth's evolution these two may find each other.
I beg you, precisely on this point, not to take one part for the whole, but to take today's and tomorrow's considerations together, for the individual part can give rise to misunderstandings; but it is absolutely necessary that at this point the human astral body, in its development toward the horizon of humanity, be lifted up in a very special way, so that the most general interests of humanity become its interests, so that it feels offended, hurt, and grieving within itself when humanity is hurt anywhere. For this it is necessary that when the human being gradually reaches the point where his astral body becomes free and independent of the other members of human nature through esoteric development, he then arms and protects himself, first of all against the arbitrary influences of other astral bodies; for when the astral body becomes free, it is no longer protected by the physical and etheric bodies, which are, as it were, a strong fortress for the astral body. It is free, it becomes permeable, and the forces that are in other astral bodies can very easily influence it. Astral bodies that are stronger than one's own can gain influence over it if it cannot arm itself with its own forces. It would be disastrous if someone were to attain complete freedom in the use of their astral body and remain as innocent with regard to the relationship of the astral body as Parzival is at the beginning. That is not possible, for then all kinds of influences emanating from astral bodies would be able to have the corresponding effect on his astral body.
You see, my dear friends, in a certain sense what has just been pointed out can also have meaning in the outer, exoteric world. Human beings live on Earth in certain individual religious systems. These religious systems have their cults, they have their rituals. These rituals surround human beings with what are, in fact, imaginations taken from higher worlds with the help of the astral body. The moment such a religious community accepts a person, he is surrounded by imaginations that liberate his astral body while the ritual is acting upon him; at least for a few moments, the astral body becomes free to a certain degree within some religious ritual. And the stronger the ritual is, the more it suppresses the influences of the etheric and physical bodies, the more it works with such means that the astral body is emancipated, the more the astral body is drawn out of the etheric and physical bodies during the corresponding ceremony. That is why it is nowhere more dangerous to sleep than in church—forgive me for using this expression, which may seem somewhat mocking, but it is not meant to be—because during sleep the astral body already separates from the physical and etheric bodies, and because what happens during the ritual becomes embedded in the astral body; for it is brought down from the higher worlds with the help of astral bodies. So the so-called church sleep, which is very popular in some areas, should actually be avoided. This applies more to churches that have a ritual than to religious communities that, due to modern views, have already departed from a certain ritual or restrict themselves to a minimum of ritual. These things are not discussed here with any preference or dislike for this or that creed, but purely on the basis of objective facts. So when a person has emancipated their astral body from the other members of human nature, they are easily influenced by impulses and forces that have been gained with the help of astral bodies. And here lies the possibility that a personality who has attained free use of his astral body, if he is stronger than another who is also able to emancipate his astral body in a certain way, can exert an enormous influence on the second personality. It is then literally like a transfer of the forces of the astral body of the stronger personality to that of the weaker personality. And if one then looks clairvoyantly at the weaker personality, one sees that its astral body actually carries the images and imaginations of the stronger astral personality.
You see how morality must necessarily grow on a soil where occultism is to be cultivated; for one cannot, of course, cultivate occultism without actually striving to emancipate the astral bodies from the other members of human nature. But the most destructive thing is when, in the field of occultism, the stronger personalities still strive in some way for power for their personal interests and intentions. Only those personalities who completely renounce any personal influence are actually entitled to work in the occult field, and the highest ideal of the occultist who wants to achieve something legitimate is to want to achieve nothing through his personality; to eliminate as far as possible from his work everything for which he has personal sympathies or antipathies. Therefore, anyone who has sympathies or antipathies for this or that and wants to work occultly must carefully collect these sympathies and antipathies, so to speak, for his most private sphere and allow them to apply only there; in any case, he must not harbor or cultivate any of these personal antipathies and sympathies on the ground where an occult movement is supposed to flourish. And as paradoxical as it may sound, one can say that the most indifferent thing for the occult teacher is actually his teaching, and the most indifferent thing is the teaching, which he can ultimately only give according to his talents and temperament. It will only have meaning if he does not actually care about the teaching as such in any personal way, but only cares about it insofar as it can help souls. Therefore, no occult teacher will ever impose any of his knowledge on an age if he knows that this part of the knowledge is useless for that age, that it could only be useful for another age. All this comes into consideration when speaking of the peculiar nature of the astral body under the influence of occult development.
In our age, even as it was preparing itself and as it has developed further, there is still a complication. What is the essence of our age? Our age is that of the development of the consciousness soul. Nothing is so closely connected with egoism, which presses upon the narrowest, most personal interests, as the consciousness soul. Therefore, in no other age is there such a temptation to confuse the most personal interests with the general interests of humanity as in our age. This age had to gradually draw the interests of humanity together into the human ego, namely into that part of the human ego which is the consciousness soul. We see how, as we approach our age, human interests are converging on the point of the ego, on the point of egoity. In this respect, it is enormously instructive to ask oneself in all seriousness whether something like what St. Augustine wrote in his Confessions would ever have been possible in ancient Greece.
That would have been absolutely impossible. The Greek was, by his very nature, such that his inner life was in a certain harmony with his outer life, so that outer interests were at the same time inner interests, and inner interests spilled over into the outer world. Take the whole of Greek culture: it is such that one must assume a certain connection between the inner and outer worlds everywhere. One can only understand Greek art, the Greek tragedians, the Greek historians and philosophers if one knows how the soul still poured out into the external world among the Greeks and how the external world naturally merged with the internal world. Compare this with something like the confessions of Augustine. Everything lives for him; he searches, digs, and investigates within himself. Try to trace the whole personal, individual note in Augustine's writings everywhere; you will find it. It must be said: Augustine lived long before the dawn of our age, but he prepared it; he is the spirit in whose writings, long before sunrise, we find the first dawn of the age that is entirely tailored to the conscious soul. This can be perceived in every line of Augustine, and every line of Augustine differs, for a more refined sensibility, from everything that was possible in ancient Greece.
And now, knowing this: Augustine lives contrary to the age in which egoism, man's preoccupation with his own inner life even within the physical body, becomes a kind of characteristic of that age, then one can understand that someone like Augustine, who has other interests besides this and looks at the entire course of human development, feels a real shudder when approached by a human being who suggests that, with a certain upward development, the astral body must naturally lead to a kind of egoism. Augustine approaches egoism in a pure, noble, and great way. One might say that he approaches egoism selflessly. But he came into an age when humanity had detached itself from the great interests of the outer world. Consider how, even in the third post-Atlantean period, every Egyptian looked up to the starry worlds and read human destinies in the stars — how the soul was connected with general interests. Of course, this could only be achieved when humans were still able to keep their astral body separate from their physical body through ancient elemental clairvoyance. That is why Augustine had to shudder when he encountered a person who reminded him that with higher development, egoism grows first! He can understand this, he feels it, his instinct tells him so: he is living in an age of egoism. When he encounters a person who represents a higher development than that of the physical body, he feels that this is a step toward egoism. At the same time, he cannot understand that this person still has a general human interest.
Try to gain this feeling of how Augustine, according to his own confession, stands before the Manichaean bishop Faustinus — for it is him I have described. When he stood before him, Augustine felt what a person can feel who is, so to speak, nobly moving toward the age of egoism and wants only to protect this age from egoism through his inner strength, and who must turn away from a person such as the Manichaean bishop Faustinus was. He turned away from him because he represented something that seemed untouchable, for he harbored something within himself that the age of egoism could never understand in exoteric life. Thus, the Manichean bishop Faustinus stood before the Church Father Augustine. He, who is approaching the age of the consciousness soul, is confronted by a human being who, in the way that such a thing can be preserved in an occult world current, preserves the connection with the spiritual world and thus the fundamental characteristic of the astral body, which makes Augustine shudder, and rightly so from his point of view.
Let us move forward a few centuries. At the University of Paris, we encounter a man who has become little known in literature, for what he has written gives no idea of his personality. What he wrote appears pedantic, but personally he must have made a great impression; personally, he seems to have made an impression above all by bringing something like a renewal of the Greek worldview into his entire environment. He was a true Renaissance man. He died in 1518 and worked at the University of Paris until then. This personality related, so to speak, to the essence of Greek culture—albeit in a much more exoteric way—in the same way that the Manichaean bishop Faustinus related to Manichaeism, which, above all, had absorbed into its traditions, among many other things, all the good and great aspects of the third post-Atlantean, Egyptian-Chaldean cultural period.
So there is this Manichaean bishop Faustinus, who appears in connection with Augustine and who, precisely because he is a Manichaean, has preserved the occult foundations of the third post-Atlantean cultural period. In 1518, a man dies in Paris who carries over certain aspects – albeit exoteric ones – of the foundations of the fourth post-Atlantean cultural period. This made him uncanny to those who were active in traditional Christianity in his environment at that time. The monks regarded him as their mortal enemy, but he made a great impression on Erasmus of Rotterdam when he was staying in Paris. However, it seemed to Erasmus of Rotterdam that the external environment was not suited to what actually lived within this strange soul. And when Erasmus left again and went to England, he wrote to the man who had become his friend, telling him to free himself from his physical body, which was ravaged by gout, and fly to England, where there would be much more in the external environment to match what he felt in his soul. That this personality, who was active at that time, was able to bring Greek feeling and Greek sensibility to life in such a vivid way is particularly evident when we consider the relationship between the subtle Erasmus of Rotterdam and this personality. Thus, one might say, this personality, who died in Paris in 1518, lived precisely at the beginning of the age of egoism, living as an enemy of those who wanted to adapt the lives of human souls to the age of egoism and who felt a kind of horror toward such a soul, which was able to have such an effect because it came from a different age, where, so to speak, human beings were closer to the egoity of the astral body, the Greek age. Erasmus of Rotterdam found this personality thoroughly sympathetic. This personality was called Faustus Andrelinos.
In the 16th century, Central Europe was confronted with a personality who was portrayed as a kind of traveling singer, about whom the corresponding folk book tells that he turned away from traditional theology. This personality no longer wanted to call himself a theologian, calling himself a man of the world and a physician, putting the Bible aside for a while and devoting himself to the study of nature. Now, the study of nature, especially in an age when the transition from everything old to everything new was taking place, brought people closer to astral egoism, just as Manichaeism and ancient Greek philosophy had done. Thus, astral egoism brought people closer to what at that time stood at the dividing line between old alchemy and new chemistry, old astrology and new astronomy, and so on. This peculiar flickering and shimmering of natural science between the old and the new standpoint brought people, when they put the Bible aside for a while, close to such astrality, where one has to deal with egoism. No wonder that those who wanted to come to terms with their traditions shuddered at the age of egoism, when the conscious soul had already completely emerged. And so the legend arose in Central Europe of the third Faust, Johannes Faust, also known as Georg Faust, who was indeed a real historical figure. And the 16th century welded together all the horror of the egoism of the astral body by merging the three Fausts, that of Augustine, that of Erasmus, and that of Central Europe, into one figure, into the figure of the Central European folk book, which then also became Marlowe's Faust. From this Faust, Goethe created his Faust, in which he wants to make it clear to us that it is possible not to shudder before the bearer of astrality, but to understand him better, so that he can show development, so that we can say the words: “We can redeem him.” Entire ages grappled with the question of the egoity of the astral body, and in entire legendary poems, even in history, there is an echo of the awe of the egoity of the astral body and of the human longing to solve the problem of this astral body in the right way, corresponds to the wise guidance of the world and the esoteric development of the individual soul.