Christianity, Buddhism, Theosophy, and Rosicrucianism

   

  

Earthly and Cosmic Man. Lecture 1 of 9

 

Rudolf Steiner, Berlin, October 23, 1911

 

 

Now that we are together again after a rather lengthy summer interval, a few words may be said about what has been happening in our Movement meanwhile, particularly about activities which have by no means been without significance for our work in Middle Europe. You know that from the time we were last together here before the summer interval, preparations were in train for the meeting at Munich, which generally begins with a dramatic performance produced in a form appropriate to the spirit of our Movement. During the last few years we have been able to develop this dramatic work. We began, first of all, by having one such performance before a Course of Lectures in Munich; last year we were able to give two performances; and this year we have been able to attempt three. (Note 1) These performances are always, of course, a somewhat hazardous enterprise, but thanks to the ready self-sacrifice of those who helped with their production, we really have succeeded in making a beginning — the beginning of something which, as it develops, will be a very important impulse in anthroposophical life when we ourselves shall no longer be able to be present in the physical body. But things of this kind — which extend far beyond the narrow limits of personal activity — must have a beginning somewhere, and those who participate in them must realize — in order that they may have the due humility and strength — that they are nothing more than a beginning. These performances, combined as they always are with a Course of Lectures, bring together not only members of our own section but also many friends of the Movement who now come to Munich from all over Europe. Those who try to understand the outer and the inner aspects of these activities may have been particularly struck, this year, by two things. The first is the way in which we are striving to carry the impulse of Anthroposophy, to begin with, into Art. Our aim, of course, is that the spiritual life shall be carried into every branch and sphere of existence. The reason why it seems so important to bring this spiritual life into Art is that Spiritual Science must not remain abstract theory or teaching, but must be made part of actual life, and take practical effect there. It was strikingly evident in these Munich performances that it is not the aim of Spiritual Science to achieve this by external subtlety or cleverness, but that its very life can pour vigor into that of Art. This was proved by the whole-heartedness and growing understanding with which Anthroposophists who were present in Munich threw themselves into the work. It is also evident from the fact that in the year 1909 we gave one dramatic performance, two last year, and this year — in spite of great difficulties — we were able to prepare three performances. If you study deeply enough, a work like The Soul's Probation will indicate to you that occult observations, just as those of external life, can be presented in artistic form. If it were a matter of speaking about the essence of these things, I should have a very great deal to say.

What is particularly striking in these Munich gatherings is the steady increase in the number of those who throng to the meetings, with the result that we are becoming acutely conscious of the lack of space, not only for the performances but also for the lectures. During the Lecture Course, this lack of space was such that the heat of the hall caused great discomfort to the listeners. The obvious answer would be to take a larger hall. But there is a difficulty there too. As you all know, Spiritual Science calls for a certain intimacy. It would be highly inappropriate to produce one of the old Greek dramas in a circus-stadium. (According to reliable reports, this has been done recently, although nothing but an entire absence of understanding for Art could win for it any general approval or encouragement. One cannot help being astounded that such a thing has been thought possible ... but, after all, it is not to be wondered at when we realize how greatly our age lacks true feeling for Art.) Inappropriate as it would be to produce an old Greek Drama in a circus-stadium — (I do not mean in an actual circus, of course) such premises would be equally inappropriate for Spiritual Science. Ancient Greek theatre might be suitable, but not a vast stadium. I must confess that the size of the Architectenhaus in Berlin seems to me to be the maximum, and instead of taking a still larger hall I would much prefer to give a lecture twice over in the Architectenhaus than once in a still larger hall. These things are so connected with the innermost character of Spiritual Science that they may not be understood today, but it will be different when Spiritual Science finds its way into the many domains and spheres of life.

Now, in connection with our activities in Munich ... if through what can be done in one hall, anything worthy of Anthroposophy is to be achieved ... we have come, inevitably, to the conclusion that we must create our own premises and surroundings. This has led to the idea of erecting a building in Munich which would enable us to have a hall of our own, adequate for the needs of the gatherings there. The near future will show whether such a project will meet with success. For this much is certain: if we do find the way clear to erect a building in Munich, it must be done soon; otherwise the finest results of our work will be lost, precisely because during the next few years it will be possible to carry on our work adequately only provided that we have the space. That something is really achieved by building our own premises — this we have seen not only in various small beginnings, but now again in Stuttgart, where the Group has built the first house for Anthroposophy existing in Middle Europe. Those who were present at its Opening will have been amply convinced of what it means to have premises that are dedicated to anthroposophical work, and how completely different it is to go into such a room, compared with other rooms — quite apart from the details of which I spoke at the Opening in connection with the significance of color, the shaping of the space, and so on, for the cultivation of spiritual knowledge.

Many ears, hearts, and souls are open to receive the deepening for which we are striving in Anthroposophy, and there will be many, many more. We have seen, too — indeed it is constantly forced upon us — how eager people are to acquire knowledge of the spiritual world by an easy path. I believe that as the necessity for a deepening of thought and feeling, a widening of knowledge in the different domains of life, and in the occult life too, is brought home in Course after Course of Lectures, many who have worked with us will already have discovered that in our stream of spiritual life, things are not made too easy. When we think of all the literature that has accumulated through the years — and I am sometimes appalled at the number of Lecture Courses and publications piled on our book tables — literature with which every sincere member desires to make himself intimately acquainted, or at any rate must study to some extent ... when we think about this, we may truly say that we do not make it easy for anybody to reach the spiritual world. And yet as the years go by, it is more and more evident that ears and hearts and souls of human beings are open, whenever we have been able to approach them. Although for strange reasons into which we will not enter now, the Congress of the European Sections of the Theosophical Society in Genoa fell through, our own activities did not cease on that account. When the Congress was abandoned (its cancellation was announced only at the last minute and we will speak of the reasons later on), some people might have thought that we could still have held meetings, but it became evident at once that the time must be put to a different use. And so during the days that had been fixed for the Genoa Congress, lectures (Note 2) were given in Lugano, Locarno, Milan, Neuchâtel, and Berne. We were able, therefore, to work during this time in places which it would have been difficult to visit in the near future. In Neuchâtel a Group was founded, desiring to adopt the name of a great spiritual Individuality, Christian Rosenkreutz, of whom the members were eager to hear more intimate details. (I will shortly give a lecture on this subject here too.) When it is remembered that in order to speak about Christian Rosenkreutz at all, in order to understand this mysterious individuality, all the occult truths gathered in the course of many years are required, and that there was a real longing for a more intimate knowledge, then it is clear that understanding of Spiritual Science has been deepened, although it has not been made easy for those who are working with us. And yet, on the other hand, how easy it is made, in reality, for those who sincerely strive for this deepening — how easy it is made! It may be said without boasting that it is made easy for them.

Think, for example, about the following. I have said repeatedly that, in our Movement, the basis of anthroposophical life must be this occult ideal: There is in reality only one true form of occultism. To distinguish between an “Eastern” and a “Western” occultism would make as much sense as to distinguish between Eastern and Western mathematics. But on account of intrinsic characteristics, one kind of problem falls more readily into the sphere of occultism in the East and another into that of occultism in the West. Everything that relates to the great Appearance of which we have been speaking for years as the Appearance of Christ is the result of the occult investigations pursued during recent centuries in the European esoteric schools, the European centers of occultism. All that has been said concerning the individuality known to us as “Jesus of Nazareth,” concerning the two Jesus boys, the descent of Christ into the body of Jesus of Nazareth at the time of the Baptism by John in the Jordan, concerning the Mystery of Golgotha and now recently, in Carlsruhe, concerning the Mystery of the Resurrection (Note 3) — all these are truths which could not have been given out today were it not for the occult investigations which have continued in the West from the twelfth century down to the present time. Christianity cannot be understood without knowledge of these truths. Nobody — however great a theologian he may be — can understand Christianity unless he understands the Resurrection, for example. Those who speak like the theologians of today simply cannot understand Christianity — for what can they make of the words of St. Paul: “If Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith also is vain”? In short, where there is no understanding of the Resurrection, there can be no understanding of Christianity! On the other hand it must also be remembered that the intellect as such, whether directed to Spiritual or to Natural Science, is incapable of approaching subjects like the Resurrection. A modern thinker will say that he must abandon the whole structure of his thought if he is really to believe in the Resurrection and what is described in the Gospel of St. John. Many people have realized and said as much. It is therefore necessary for light to be shed on these things by occultism in the West. So far as can be known from outside, the trend of occultism pursued in the East does not cover these particular truths, which are connected with the Mysteries of the West, with the Mysteries of Christianity. And why? Over in Asia, with the exception of regions in and around Asia Minor, men are not, and have not been, interested in Christ. They do not feel the need to ask about Him, nor have they done so for hundreds and thousands of years. In India and in Tibet wonderful occult teachings exist about the Buddha and the Bodhisattvas, but nobody has been particularly interested in occult research concerning the Being of Christ. The Oriental school of Theosophy cannot, therefore, be expected to have any real knowledge of the Christ.

You all know of the tremendous service rendered by H. P. Blavatsky to the Theosophical Movement when it first came into being. Did the greatness of her achievement consist in formulating the three “Principles” of the Theosophical Society which are still printed on our forms of application for membership? It certainly did not lie in the statement that there must be a society for the cultivation of Universal Brotherhood! There are many such societies and every normal, thinking person will approve of the cultivation of Universal Brotherhood. The greatness of H. P. Blavatsky's work lay in the fact that, through her, an untold number of occult truths found their way into the world. Anyone who studies Isis Unveiled and then The Secret Doctrine, which appeared years later, will realize that in spite of everything that can be said against these works, they do, nevertheless, contain countless truths, truths of which, until then, nobody except those who had experienced initiation had any inkling. Although Madame Blavatsky had an illogical, disorderly mind, although her own speculations are placed, inappropriately, side by side with communications from the Masters (to go into this now would lead too far) — although she was passionate and impetuous and often said things she should not have said (for it is not legitimate in occultism to speak so passionately and illogically) — although it might be considered advisable to get some system and logical sequence into Isis Unveiled, or to eliminate five-sixths of The Secret Doctrine and re-edit the remaining sixth ... yet in the theosophical life we must look at the positive side and say that a great and powerful impulse was there brought into the occult life.

The truth of these matters is that when H.P. Blavatsky wrote Isis Unveiled she was under a kind of Rosicrucian inspiration. Isis Unveiled contains great Rosicrucian truths — even the shortcomings of Rosicrucianism are included. Everything of real importance in the book is Rosicrucian. I said “even the shortcomings of Rosicrucianism” — because insight into the truths of reincarnation and karma, for instance, was not possible in the old Rosicrucianism of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. It was only later on that they could be recognized in the West. In Isis Unveiled Madame Blavatsky gave nothing that even approximates to an adequate explanation of reincarnation and karma; in short, she took over all the shortcomings of Rosicrucianism. Then it came about that through circumstances to describe which would lead too far, Madame Blavatsky fell away from the Rosicrucian influences and was enticed into an Oriental form of Theosophy. (Note 4) The outcome of this was The Secret Doctrine, which in regard to everything that is not connected with Christianity contains great truths, but the greatest nonsense in regard to Christianity. Concerning the various religions and system of thought in the world — with the exception of Judaism and Christianity — The Secret Doctrine is very useful, but nothing the book says about Judaism and Christianity is of the slightest value, because H. P. Blavatsky had entered a sphere in which the truths in these two religions had not been cultivated. The whole direction subsequently taken by the Theosophical Movement is connected with this. The Theosophical Movement proved incapable of any real understanding of Christianity. Let me make it clear, by an example that is important for us, how the Theosophical Movement has failed in this respect.

In Oriental occultism — apart from its very highest initiates, who do not speak otherwise than we — the loftiest individuality is that of the Bodhisattva. One such Bodhisattva was the individuality who, about five hundred years before our era, rose to the next rank, which again is understood in Orientalism. In his twenty-ninth year, the Bodhisattva who had been born as the son of King Suddhodana became the Buddha. The attainment of Buddhahood, as everyone conversant with Buddhism understands, means that the being in question, after the physical life during which he has become Buddha, can never again appear on the Earth. When the Bodhisattva becomes Buddha he no longer returns to the Earth in an ordinary body, nor is he subject to the laws of reincarnation. But he has a “successor.” When the Bodhisattva received enlightenment and rose to Buddhahood, he “nominated” a successor to become Bodhisattva. This next Bodhisattva will be born as a human being, a human being towering above others, until he himself ascends to the rank of Buddha. It is known to every true disciple of Orientalism that exactly five thousand years after the enlightenment of Gautama Buddha under the Bodhi Tree, the Bodhisattva succeeding him will attain to Buddhahood, and will appear as Maitreya Buddha — in three thousand years' time from now. Up to then a Bodhisattva will live in manifold incarnations yet to come; he will appear again and again on the Earth, but will not rise to the rank of Buddha for another three thousand years — and then he will be a great Teacher on the Earth.

This is the highest individuality recognized by Oriental occultism. Because Madame Blavatsky had been captured, as it were, by the Oriental trend of occultism, such understanding of these things as might have been attained, was limited by Eastern conceptions. At the same time, also, there was the desire to bring to Europeans further light on Christianity; but no real understanding of Christianity was possible by means of Eastern teachings — for they lead only to the individualities of the Bodhisattva and the Buddha. The consequence of this was that even those who were endowed with clairvoyance could only perceive the individuality of a Bodhisattva. A Bodhisattva was, however, incarnated in Jeschu ben Pandira, who lived 105 years before our era. He was closely connected with the Essenes and had pupils, among them one who was afterwards responsible for the Gospel of St. Matthew. A Bodhisattva individuality, the successor of Gautama Buddha, was incarnated in Jeschu ben Pandira, of whom Oriental Theosophy speaks. And to clairvoyant vision it seemed as though nothing of particular importance happened 105 years after Jeschu ben Pandira had lived. Think of H. P. Blavatsky. She directed her occult gaze to the time when Jeschu ben Pandira was living and saw that a great Bodhisattva individuality was incarnated in him. But because her entanglement in an Oriental trend of Theosophy had limited her powers of vision, she was incapable of seeing that 105 years afterwards, the Christ had come. Of Christ she knew only what was said in the West, and from this she conceived the notion that no “Christ” ever lived, that it was all make-believe; but that 105 years before our era there had lived a certain Jeschu ben Pandira, who was stoned and then hanged on a tree — who was not, therefore, crucified. Jeschu ben Pandira was now described as if he had been Jesus of Nazareth. This is a complete confusion. Concerning the real Jesus of Nazareth who was the Bearer of the Christ, nothing is said. Jeschu ben Pandira, who had lived 105 years earlier was said to be “Christ,” because a European name was thought to be desirable.

We, however, are obliged to say that those who stand within that Oriental stream do not perceive who the Christ Being is. It cannot be denied that the moment attention has to be drawn to a matter like this, we find ourselves in an unpleasant position. And why? Everyone who is acquainted with the sciences knows that there are matters which can be disputed; but there are others which cannot be disputed — and there, if someone holds a contrary opinion, it can only be said that he does not understand the point at issue. Now if we say: “You do not understand this” — we may be considered extremely arrogant! We are in this unpleasant position in that we cannot agree with those who speak of Jeschu ben Pandira as the “Christ.” The fact is that they simply have not reached the stage of being able to understand. It is unpleasant to have to say this, but it is a fact. They are really not to be blamed when they speak of the being, whom they too recognize, as though He could come again and again in the body — for they have no real knowledge of the Christ Being Who could appear only once in the flesh! And now take Esoteric Christianity by Annie Besant, and read it with more care than is usual in theosophical circles. It speaks of an individuality who lived 105 years before our era; but the mistake is that he is called “Christ.” Suppose some person — the authoress of this book, for instance — were now to say that during the twentieth century the being described in Esoteric Christianity is to appear in some human being in the flesh. Nothing more could be said against this, from our standpoint, than would be said to anyone who might go to India and proclaim that the Buddha will incarnate again. He would be told: “You are an ignorant European! Everyone knows that the Buddha can never appear again in the flesh; you therefore understand nothing about Buddhism.” But we too, in Europe, must be entitled to take the same attitude when it is alleged that Christ will incarnate a second time! Our reply can only be: “You do not understand. True knowledge of the Christ Being reveals that He is a being Who can appear once, and once only, in a body of flesh.” Let us say that understanding here lies on different levels; then there can be no misunderstanding!

What is the point that might really separate us from an Oriental trend of Theosophy? Do we deny that a man lived 105 years before our era, who was stoned for blasphemy and afterwards hanged on a tree? No, we do not deny it. Or do we deny that a great individuality dwelt in that being? We do not. Neither do we deny that this being may reincarnate in the twentieth century. We admit it. Is there therefore any real issue concerning which we should have to repudiate the statements made by the other school of Theosophy? Only this, that we are bound to say: “You do not know the Being Whom we call Christ: you call another by His Name. We must have the right to correct this. As for the rest ... it is only a question of nomenclature, except when you expressly ignore matters of which we speak in connection with the beginning of our era. We speak of the two Jesus children, the Baptism by John in the Jordan, the Mystery of Golgotha. Of these, you say nothing! We must be allowed the right to know things of which you are ignorant! Otherwise one would be under the decree: What we do not know, nobody else has the right to know; for what we do not know is all false!” In this connection our position is that we do not make the trouble, and when any is made, it is the others who are responsible for it.

All misunderstandings could very easily be avoided. So far as we are concerned there is no reason for misunderstanding, and none exists. Only we must have the right to bring to theosophical life the results of occult researches of which nothing is known on the other side, and which immeasurably deepen our understanding of the problems of the West. So in one important respect, provided only that goodwill exists, it is not in the least necessary for disharmony to arise in the Theosophical Movement. Goodwill is necessary — not the attitude that is ready to repudiate some authenticated truth ... for that would not be goodwill but denial of truth! Goodwill must be accompanied by reason. Why do differences of opinion arise? Is it because some subject is looked at from different standpoints or also, possibly, from different levels? If the latter is the case, the others will not be able to substantiate their opinion. And then it is a matter of realizing how the land lies, and of having tolerance.

For us, at any rate, this principle must be established, and I had to refer to it on this first occasion when we are together again. I have referred to it as a proof that in our Movement it is very easy to see things clearly, if there is a sincere wish to do so. We ourselves may truly say that there is no need for us to oppose anyone. We can afford to wait until the opposition comes from elsewhere. We can go on working quietly, and this subject would not have been raised or mentioned at all if friends had not been distressed by the rumor that Theosophists are all at variance among themselves. It is true that ultimately we may find ourselves in the very disagreeable position of being obliged to say “On the other side they have no knowledge of certain truths.” This may lead to an accusation of arrogance, but we can put up with that, provided we know what real humility is.

During this last year it has been necessary to give expression to the progress — for so it may truly be called — that has taken place in occult investigation since the middle of the thirteenth century. This has been done, for instance, in my book The Spiritual Guidance of Man and of Mankind. These developments are hardly mentioned in any Movement other than our own. It may be said, therefore, that we have had to undertake the difficult task of assimilating the most recent results of occult research. It may be regarded as a good augury that at the founding of the Neuchâtel Group the need was expressed for more intimate knowledge of the greatest Teacher of Christianity — Christian Rosenkreutz — of his incarnations and of the nature of his work. I have spoken as I have today in order that each of you may know how things really are when someone on the other side says “Here we are told that Christ will incarnate again in the twentieth century, but over there it is said that He will appear as a Spiritual Being only. These are two conflicting standpoints.” No, we must not allow this to be said. It must, however, be emphasized — and admitted by the other side, too — that they are speaking of Jeschu ben Pandira, who was stoned 105 years before our era. When, for instance, in Annie Besant's last book, The Changing World, everything is jumbled up and no mention made of the usurpation of the name “Christ,” when sheer contradiction exists between Esoteric Christianity and The Changing World ... these are matters which really must be pointed out, in order to prevent people from being misled into thinking that in her latest book Annie Besant is speaking of the real Christ. If this were so, she would have to repudiate the book Esoteric Christianity and say that its contents are not correct — for that book speaks of a being who lived 105 years before our era, not at its beginning.

Our work is characterized by the fact that the findings of occult investigation cover even the most modern times. From one point of view, therefore, it is a kind of aspersion — although an unintentional one — when outsiders call us “Rosicrucians.” It really is a kind of aspersion: at any rate it reminds me of an amusing incident which once took place in the market of a town in Central Germany. — One man said: “So-and-so is a sluggard.” “What?” said another, “you say he is a sluggard? But I know that he is a butcher, not a sluggard!” The same kind of logic which implies that if a man is a butcher he cannot be a sluggard underlies assertions to the effect that our Movement is not “Theosophical” but “Rosicrucian.” Why do we cultivate Rosicrucian principles? Because genuine Rosicrucian schools of occultism have existed and because the results of Rosicrucian knowledge must be received into our own Movement — just as we have spoken, without any bias whatever, about Brahmanism, Orientalism, about ancient and modern Christianity. I do not think that in many other theosophical groups mention has been made, for instance, of the Mexican deities Quitzalcoatl and Texkatlipoka, as has been done among us. (Note 5) So, in addition to all the other subjects, we have also included the results reached by genuine Rosicrucian investigation — naturally so, since we do not disdain the fruits of genuine occultism. If we have become familiar with a number of symbols derived from Rosicrucianism it is because they have the best influence upon the minds and hearts of modern men. We are “modern” Theosophists precisely because we do not refuse to accept the results of the most modern research. Perhaps someone has heard that I have sometimes used the form of address: “My dear Rosicrucian friends” ... These things occur just because we stand upon the universal foundations of Theosophy. It is, therefore, an unconscious aspersion when the designation “Rosicrucian” is imposed upon our Movement. We must, however, be tolerant about these things.

Our task this winter will be to deepen still further the teachings and truths already received. And so, in order to prepare the ground for speaking about Christian Rosenkreutz here, too, I want to speak about the threefold nature of man and its true basis, insofar as man is a being capable of receiving intellectual, aesthetic, and moral impulses. We shall have to search very deeply into the occult foundations of these things, and expand the teachings already received, for instance about the Saturn- Sun- and Moon evolutions, by studying man as an intellectual, an aesthetic, and a moral being.

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Note 1:

The Portal of Initiation and The Soul's Probation by Rudolf Steiner. See “Four Mystery Plays.”

Note 2:

The Christ Impulse through the Course of History. Lugano, 17.9.11; Locarno, 19.9.11,
Buddha and Christ. The Spheres of the Bodhisattvas. Milan, 21.9.11.
Rosicrucian Christianity. Neuchâtel, 27 and 28.9.11. Not yet published in English.

Note 3:

From Jesus to Christ. (In English translation.) Ten lectures.

Note 4:

See: The Story of My Life, by Rudolf Steiner. Chap. XXIX.

Note 5:

See: Inner Impulses in the Evolution of Mankind, by Rudolf Steiner. (Lecture III and Lecture V.) 

Source: The Rudolf Steiner Archive 

   https://wn.rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA/GA0133/19111023p01.html

Asians have never been interested in Christ

    

Rudolf Steiner:  "Nobody — however great a theologian he may be — can understand Christianity unless he understands the Resurrection. Those who speak like the theologians of today simply cannot understand Christianity — for what can they make of the words of St. Paul: “If Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith also is vain”? In short, where there is no understanding of the Resurrection, there can be no understanding of Christianity! On the other hand it must also be remembered that the intellect as such, whether directed to Spiritual or to Natural Science, is incapable of approaching subjects like the Resurrection. A modern thinker will say that he must abandon the whole structure of his thought if he is really to believe in the Resurrection and what is described in the Gospel of St. John. Many people have realized and said as much. It is therefore necessary for light to be shed on these things by occultism in the West. So far as can be known from outside, the trend of occultism pursued in the East does not cover these particular truths, which are connected with the Mysteries of the West, with the Mysteries of Christianity. And why? Over in Asia, with the exception of regions in and around Asia Minor, men are not, and have not been, interested in Christ. They do not feel the need to ask about Him, nor have they done so for hundreds and thousands of years. In India and in Tibet wonderful occult teachings exist about the Buddha and the Bodhisattvas, but nobody has been particularly interested in occult research concerning the Being of Christ. The Oriental school of Theosophy cannot, therefore, be expected to have any real knowledge of the Christ."

Source: The Rudolf Steiner Archive  October 23, 1911

Christ and the Gnosis : Christmas Thoughts

 

Rudolf Steiner, Dornarch, Switzerland

December 25, 1918

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now let us connect all this with lectures⁵ I gave here earlier about the whole human race gradually becoming younger. Perhaps you recall that I explained how the particular dependence of soul development upon the physical organism that a human being has today only during his very earliest years was experienced in ancient times up to old age. (We are speaking now only of post-Atlantean epochs.) I said that in the ancient Indian cultural epoch man was dependent upon his so-called physical development into his fifties, in the way that he is now dependent only in the earliest years. Now in the first years of life man is dependent upon his physical development. We know the kind of break the change of teeth causes, then puberty, and so on. In these early years we see a distinct parallel in the development of soul and of body; then this ceases, vanishes. I pointed out that in older cultural epochs of our post-Atlantean period that was not the case. The possibility of receiving wisdom from nature simply through being a human being—lofty wisdom which was venerated among the ancient Indians, and could still be venerated among the ancient Persians—that possibility existed because the conditions were not the same as they are now. Now a man becomes a finished product in his twenties; he is then no longer dependent upon his physical organism. Starting from his twenties, it gives him nothing more. This was not the case in ancient times. In ancient times the physical organism itself gave wisdom to man's soul into his fifties. It was possible for him in the second half of life, even without special occult training, to extract the forces from his physical organism in an elemental way, and thus attain a certain wisdom and a certain development of will. I pointed to the significance of this for the ancient Indian and Persian epochs, even for the Egypto-Chaldean epoch, when it was possible to say to a boy or girl, or young man or young woman: “When you are old you may expect that something will come into your life, will be bestowed upon you simply by your having become old, because one continues to develop up to the time of death.” Age was looked up to with reverence , because a man said to himself: With old age something will enter my life that I cannot know or cannot will while I am still young. That gave a certain structure to the entire social life which only ceased when during the Greco-Latin epoch this point of time fell back into the middle years of human life. In the ancient Indian civilization man was capable of development up to his fifties. Then during the ancient Persian epoch mankind grew younger: that is, the age of the human race, the capacity for development, fell back to the end of a man's forties. During the Egypto-Chaldean epoch it came between the thirty-fifth and the forty-second year. During the Greco-Latin epoch he was only capable of development up to a point of time between the twenty-eighth and the thirty-fifth year. When the Mystery of Golgotha occurred, he had this capability up to the thirty-third year. This is the wonderful fact we discover in the history of mankind's evolution: that the age of Christ Jesus when he passed through death on Golgotha coincides with the age to which humanity had fallen back at that time. We pointed out that humanity is still becoming younger and younger; that is, the age at which it is no longer capable of development continues to decrease. This is significant, for example, when today a man enters public life at the particular age at which humanity now stands—twenty-seven years—without having received anything beside what he took in from the outside up to his twenty-seventh year. I mentioned that in this sense Lloyd-George⁶ is the representative man of our time. He entered public life at twenty-seven years. This had far-reaching consequences, which you can of course discover by reading his biography. These facts enable one to understand world conditions from within.

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

Thus you see that the Mystery of Golgotha can be regarded as something intensely alive during the course of our earthly life. I said earlier that people are most predisposed to brotherliness in the middle of life—around the thirty-third year, but they do not always develop it. You have the reason for this in what I just said. Those who fail to develop brotherliness, who lack something of brotherliness, simply are too little permeated by the Christ. Since the human being begins to die, in a certain sense, in middle age from the forces of nature, he cannot properly develop the impulse, the instinct, of brotherliness—and still less the impulse toward freedom, which is taken up so little today—unless he brings to life within himself thoughts that come directly from the Christ Impulse. When we turn to the Christ Impulse, it enkindles brotherliness in us directly. To the degree to which a man feels the necessity for brotherliness, he is permeated by Christ. One is also unable alone to develop the impulse for freedom to full strength during the remainder of one's earthly life. (In future periods of evolution this will be different.) Something entered our earth evolution as human being and flowed forth at the death of Christ Jesus to unite Itself with the earthly evolution of humanity. Therefore Christ is the One who also leads present-day mankind to freedom. We become free in Christ when we are able to grasp the fact that the Christ could really not have become older, could not have lived longer, in a physical body than up to the age of thirty-three years. Suppose hypothetically that He had lived longer: then He would have lived on in a physical body into the years when according to our present earth evolution this body is destined for death. The Christ would have taken up the forces of death. Had he lived to be forty years old, He would have experienced the forces of death in His body. These He would not have wished to experience. He could only have wished to experience those forces that are still the freshening forces for a human being. He was active up to His thirty-third year, to the middle of life; as the Christ He enkindled brotherliness. Then He caused the spirit to flow into human evolution: He gave over to the Holy Spirit what was henceforth to be within the power of man. Through this Holy Spirit, this health-giving Spirit, a human being develops to freedom toward the end of his life. Thus is the Christ Impulse integrated into the concrete life of humanity.

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

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

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

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

An intellectual study of the development of Western theology would make people more critical on this point as well—but such study is rare. It would show them, for instance, that Christian dogma must surely have its foundation in something quite different from caprice or the like. Actually, it is all rooted in the Gnosis. But its living force has been stripped away and abstract thoughts, concepts, the mere hulls are left, so that one no longer recognizes in the doctrines their living origin. Nevertheless, it is really the Gnosis. If you study the Gnosis as far as it can be studied with spiritual scientific methods, you will find a certain light is thrown upon the few things that have been left to history by the opponents of gnosticism. And you will probably realize that this Gnosis points to the very widespread and concrete atavistic-clairvoyant world conception of ancient times. There were considerable remnants of this in the first post-Atlantean epoch, less in the second. In the third epoch the final remnants were worked upon and appeared as gnosticism in a remarkable system of concepts, concepts that are extraordinarily figurative. Anyone who studies gnosticism from this standpoint, who is able to go back, even just historically, to the meager remnants—they are brought to light more abundantly in the pagan Gnosis than in Christian literature—will find that, as a matter of fact, this Gnosis contained wonderful treasures of wisdom relating to a world with which people of our present age refuse to have any connection. So it is not at all surprising that even well-intentioned people can make little of the ancient Gnosis. Well-intentioned people? I mean, for instance, people like Professor Jeremias of Leipzig, who would indeed be willing to study these things. But he can form no mental picture of what these ancient concepts refer to—when, for example, mention is made of a spiritual being Jaldabaoth, who is supposed with a sort of arrogance to have declared himself ruler of the world, then to have been reprimanded by his mother, and so on. Even from what has been historically preserved, such mighty images radiate to us as the following: Jaldabaoth said, “I am God the Father; there is no one above me.” And his mother answered, “Do not lie! Above thee is the Father of all, the first Man, and the Son of Man.”

Then—it is further related—Jaldabaoth called his six co-workers and they said, “Let us make man in our image.” Such imaginations, quite self-explanatory, were numerous and extensive in what existed as the Gnosis. In the Old Testament we find only remnants of this pictorial wisdom preserved by Jewish tradition. It lived especially in the Orient, whence its rays reached the West; and only in the third or fourth century did these begin to fade in the West. But then there were still some after-effects among the Waldenses and Cathars⁸ that finally died out.

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

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

Now what were the conditions in this Greco-Latin age in the fourth post-Atlantean epoch? Only meager recollections of time before birth could now be brought over into life, but something was brought over, and in this Greek period it was still distinct. People today are inordinately proud of their power of thinking, but actually they can grasp very little with it. The thinking power that the Greeks developed was of a different nature. When the Greeks entered earthly life through birth, the images of their experiences before birth were lost; but the thinking force that they had used before birth to give an intelligent meaning to the images still remained. Greek thinking differed completely from our so-called normal thinking, for the Greek thinking was the result of pondering over imaginations that had been experienced before birth. Of the imaginations themselves little was recalled; the essential thing that remained was the discernment that had helped a person before birth to find his way in the world about which imaginations had been formed. The waning of this thinking power was the important factor in the development of the fourth post-Atlantean period, which continued, as you know, into the fifteenth century of the Christian era. Now in this fifth epoch the power to think must again be developed, out of our earthly culture. Slowly, haltingly, we must develop it out of the scientific world view. Today we are at the beginning of it. During the fourth post-Atlantean period, that is, from 747 B.C. to 1413 A.D.—the Event of Golgotha lies between—there was a continual decrease of thinking power. Only in the fifteenth century did it begin slowly to rise again; by the third millennium it will once more have reached a considerable height. Of our present-day power of thought mankind need not be especially proud; it has declined. The thinking power, still highly developed, that was the heritage of the Greeks shaped the thoughts with which the gnostic pictures were set in order and mastered. Although the pictures were no longer as clear as they had been for the Egyptians or the Babylonians, for example, the thinking power was still there. But it gradually faded. That is the extraordinary way things worked together in the earliest Christian centuries.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Source: The Rudolf Steiner Archive December 25, 1918