The Gospel of Luke. Lecture 2 of 10.
Rudolf Steiner, Basel, September 16, 1909:
The Gospel of St. Luke: An Expression of the Principle of Love and Compassion. The Missions of the Bodhisattvas and of the Buddha.
Throughout the
Christian era the Gospel of St. John was the text that made the strongest
impression upon those who were trying to deepen their understanding of the
cosmic mysteries of Christianity. This was the Gospel used by all the Christian
mystics who were striving to mould their lives in accordance with its
presentation of the personality and nature of Christ Jesus.
In the course of
the centuries a somewhat different attitude was adopted by Christian humanity to
the Gospel of St. Luke — an attitude altogether in keeping with the indications
given in the last lecture, from another point of view, regarding the contrast
between these two Gospels. Whereas the Gospel of St. John was in a certain sense
a text for mystics, the Gospel of St. Luke was always a devotional book for
humble folk, for those whose simplicity and innocence of heart enabled them to
rise into the sphere of truly Christian feeling. The Gospel of St. Luke has been
a book of devotion throughout the centuries. For all those who were bowed down
with sorrow or suffering it was a fount of consolation, speaking with such
tenderness of the great Comforter, the great Benefactor of mankind, the Savior
of the heavy-laden and oppressed. It was a book to which especially those who
longed to be filled with Christian love turned their hearts and minds, because
the power of love is revealed more clearly in this Gospel than in any other
Christian document. Those who were in any way conscious — and strictly speaking
this applies to everyone — of having the burden of some guilt upon their hearts,
at all times found consolation and edification when they turned to the Gospel of
St. Luke and understood its message. They could say to themselves: Christ Jesus
came not only for the righteous but also for sinners; He sat with publicans and
transgressors. Whereas much preparation is necessary before the full power of
St. John's Gospel can be realized, it may be said of St. Luke's Gospel that no
nature is too immature to be aware of the warmth streaming from it. From the
earliest times this Gospel was an inspiration to the most childlike of men. All
that remains childlike in the human soul from tenderest youth to ripest age has
always felt drawn to the Gospel of St. Luke. And as regards pictorial
representations of Christian truths and what art has acquired from these truths,
we find that although much is derived from the other Gospels, the indications
for the most intimate messages conveyed to the human heart by forms of art, by
paintings, are to be found precisely in the Gospel of St. Luke. The portrayals
of the deep connection between Christ Jesus and John the Baptist have their
source in this imperishable Gospel. Anyone who allows it to work upon his soul
will find that from beginning to end it gives expression to the principle of
love, compassion, and innocence — in a certain sense, childlike innocence. Where
else do we find such a tender portrayal of the childlike nature as in what is
said of the childhood of Jesus of Nazareth in the Gospel of St. Luke? The reason
will become clear as we penetrate more deeply into the words of this wonderful
text.
It will be
necessary now to say certain things that may seem paradoxical to those of you
who have heard other lectures or courses of lectures given by me on the same
subject. But if you will wait for the explanations to be given in the next
lectures, you will realize that what I shall say is in harmony with what you
have previously heard from me about Christ Jesus and Jesus of Nazareth. The
whole complicated range of truth cannot be presented all at once, and today I
shall have to indicate an aspect of the Christian truths that may seem not to
tally exactly with what has been said on some previous occasion. Our procedure
must be first to show how the separate currents of truth have developed and
then the mutual agreement and harmony that finally become apparent. The Gospel
of St. John was deliberately our starting-point, and I was naturally unable to
indicate more than part of the truth in the various courses of lectures. What
was said still holds good, as we shall see, although our attention today must
be turned to an unusual aspect of Christian truths.
A wonderful
passage in the Gospel of St. Luke describes how an angel appeared to the
shepherds in the fields and announced to them that the savior of the world was
born. Then come the words: ‘And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of
the heavenly host.’ Picture the scene to yourselves: as the shepherds look
upward the heavens open and the beings of the spiritual world are revealed in
sublime pictures.
What was the
proclamation to the shepherds? It was clothed in momentous words, words that
resounded through the whole of evolution and have become the Christmas message.
Rightly rendered, these words would be as follows: ‘The divine beings manifest
themselves from on high, that peace may reign on the Earth below among men who
are filled with good will!’ The usual expression, ‘glory,’ is entirely out of
place here. The sentence is correct in the form I have now given, and the
contrast should be clearly emphasized. What the shepherds saw was the
manifestation of spiritual beings from on high, and the revelation occurred when
it did in order that peace might pour into human hearts that were filled with a
good will. As we shall see, many mysteries of Christianity are embodied in these
words, provided only they are rightly understood. But certain preliminaries are
necessary if light is to be thrown on this momentous proclamation. Above all we
must endeavor to study the accounts available to clairvoyant faculties from the
akashic chronicle. With opened eyes of spirit we must contemplate the epoch when
Christ Jesus came to humanity, and ask ourselves: What was the historical
background and the source of the spiritual impulse poured into Earth evolution
at that time?
Currents of
spiritual life from many different sides converged and flowed into the evolution
of humanity at that point. The very diverse world-conceptions that had arisen in
various regions of the Earth in the course of the ages converged in Palestine as
though into one central point and came to expression in the events there. We may
therefore ask: What are the sources of these streams?
It was indicated
yesterday that in the Gospel of St. Luke we have the fruits of Imaginative
cognition, and that this knowledge is gained in the form of pictures. In
the events just mentioned a picture is placed before us of the manifestation to
the shepherds of spiritual beings from on high: first, the picture is of a
spiritual being, an angel, who is followed by a ‘heavenly host’. Here we must
ask: What does a clairvoyant initiated into the mysteries of existence see in
this picture — which he can always evoke again at will — when he gazes into the
akashic chronicle? What was it that was revealed to the shepherds? What was this
angelic host, and whence did it come?
This picture
portrays one of the great spiritual streams that flowed through the process of
evolution, gradually rising higher and higher, until at the time of the events
in Palestine its light could shine down upon the Earth only from spiritual
heights. From the angelic host revealed to the shepherds we are led back, in
deciphering the akashic chronicle, to one of the greatest streams of spiritual
life in the evolution of humanity, a stream which, several centuries before the
coming of Christ, spread far and wide in the form of Buddhism. An investigator
of the akashic chronicle who traces back into previous ages the origin of the
revelation to the shepherds is led, strange as it will seem to you, to the
‘Enlightenment’ of the great Buddha. The light that shone out in India, setting
men's hearts and minds astir as the religion of love and compassion, as a great
world-conception, and even today is spiritual nourishment for a very large
section of humanity — that light appeared again in the revelation to the
shepherds! For it too was to stream into the revelation in Palestine. The
account given at the beginning of St. Luke's Gospel cannot be understood unless
we consider (again from the vantage-point of spiritual-scientific research) the
significance of Buddha and what his revelation actually brought about in the
course of human evolution.
When Buddha was
born in the East, five to six centuries before our era, there appeared in him an
individuality who had lived many times on Earth and in the course of his
previous incarnations had already reached the very lofty stage of human
development designated by an Oriental expression as that of a ‘Bodhisattva’.
Some of you have heard lectures on different aspects of the nature of the
Bodhisattvas. In the lecture-course Spiritual Hierarchies and their Reflection in the physical
World, given in Düsseldorf some months ago, I spoke of how the
Bodhisattvas are related to the whole of cosmic evolution; in Munich, in the
lecture-course The East in the Light of the West [ 1 ] they were referred to from a different point of view. Today
we shall consider the nature of the Bodhisattvas from still another side and you
will gradually perceive the harmony between the single truths.
He who became a
Buddha had first to be a Bodhisattva; individual development to the rank of
Buddhahood is preceded by the stage of ‘Bodhisattva’. We will now think of the
nature of the Bodhisattvas in relation to the evolution of humanity considered
from the viewpoint of spiritual science.
The capacities
and faculties possessed and developed by human beings in any particular epoch
were not always in existence. To believe that the same faculties possessed by
man today were also present in primeval times is due to incapacity and
unwillingness to see beyond the present. Man's faculties, everything he is able
to accomplish and know, vary from epoch to epoch. His faculties today are
developed to the point where with his own power of reasoning he is justified in
saying: ‘I recognize this or that truth by means of my intelligence and my
reason; I can recognize what is moral or immoral, logical or illogical in a
certain respect. But it would be a mistake to believe that these capacities for
distinguishing the logical from the illogical or the moral from the immoral
were always to be found in human nature. They came into existence and developed
gradually. What man can accomplish today by means of his own capacities
he had at one time to be taught — as a child is taught by its parents or
teachers — by beings who though incarnated among men were more highly developed
by virtue of their spiritual faculties and could hold converse in the Mysteries
with divine-spiritual beings even loftier than themselves. Individualities who,
though themselves incarnated in physical bodies, could have intercourse with
still higher, non-incarnated individualities, existed at all times. For example,
before men acquired the faculty of logical thinking by means of which they
themselves are able to think logically today, they were obliged to learn from
certain teachers. These teachers themselves were not able to think logically
through faculties developed in the physical body itself, but only through their
intercourse in the Mysteries with divine-spiritual beings in higher realms. Such
teachers proclaimed the principles of logic and morality from revelations they
received from higher worlds in times before men themselves were able, out of
their own earthly nature, to think logically or discover the principles of
morality. The Bodhisattvas are one category of beings who, though incarnated in
physical bodies, have intercourse with divine-spiritual beings in order to
bring down and impart to men what they themselves learn from their divine
teachers. The Bodhisattva is a being incarnated in a human body, whose faculties
enable him to commune with divine-spiritual beings.
Before Gautama
Buddha became a ‘Buddha’ he was a Bodhisattva, that is to say, an individuality
who, in the Mysteries, was able to commune with higher, divine-spiritual beings.
In remote, primeval ages of Earth evolution, a being such as the Bodhisattva was
entrusted in the higher world with a definite task, a definite mission, which he
continues to discharge.
When the Earth
was still in early stages of development, even before the Atlantean and Lemurian
epochs, the Bodhisattva who was incarnated and became Buddha six hundred years
before our era, was assigned a task which he never abandoned. From epoch to
epoch, through every age, his work was to impart to Earth evolution as much as
the beings concerned enabled it to receive. For each Bodhisattva there comes a
time when, with the mission entrusted to him in the primeval past, he reaches a
definite point — the point when what he has been able to let flow into humanity
‘from above’ can become a faculty of man's own. A human faculty today
was once a faculty of divine-spiritual beings brought down to man from spiritual
heights by the Bodhisattvas. Hence there comes a time when a spiritual emissary
such as a Bodhisattva can say ‘I have accomplished my mission. Humanity has now
received that for which it has been prepared through many, many epochs.’ Having
reached this point, the Bodhisattva can become ‘Buddha’. That is to say, the
time has come when he, as a being with the particular mission to which I have
referred, need no longer incarnate in a human physical body; he has incarnated
for the last time in such a body and need not incarnate again as a spiritual
emissary in the above sense.
This point of
time arrived for Gautama Buddha. The task assigned to him had led him again and
again down to the Earth; but he appeared in his final incarnation as Bodhisattva
when, after his enlightenment, he became Buddha. He incarnated in a human body
that had developed to the highest possible stage those faculties which hitherto
had had to be bestowed from above, but were now gradually to become human
faculties in the fullest sense. When a Bodhisattva has succeeded through his
foregoing development in making a human body so perfect that it can itself
evolve the faculties connected with his particular mission, he need not
incarnate again. He then hovers in spiritual realms, sending his influence into
humanity, furthering and guiding human affairs. Henceforth it is the task of men
to develop the gifts formerly bestowed upon them from heavenly heights, saying
to themselves: ‘We must now ourselves develop in a way that will further
elaborate the faculties acquired in full measure for the first time in the
incarnation when the Bodhisattva became Buddha.’
When the being
who works through successive epochs as Bodhisattva appears as one into whose
human nature every faculty that previously flowed down from heavenly heights has
been integrated and can now be expressed through him as an individual —
that being is a ‘Buddha’. All this is revealed by Gautama Buddha. Had he, as
Bodhisattva, withdrawn earlier from his mission, men could no longer have been
blessed by the bestowal of these faculties from on high. But when evolution had
progressed so far that these faculties could be present in a single human being
on Earth, the seed was laid that would enable men in the future to develop them
in their own natures. Thus the individuality who as long as he was a
Bodhisattva did not enter fully into the human form but towered upward into
heavenly heights — this individuality now for the first time drew completely
into human nature and was fully embodied in that one incarnation. But then he
again withdrew. For with this incarnation as Buddha a certain quotum of
revelations had been given to humanity, thereafter to be developed further in
men themselves. Hence the Bodhisattva, having become Buddha, might withdraw from
the Earth to spiritual heights, might abide there and guide the affairs of
humanity from regions where only a certain power of clairvoyance is able to
behold him.
What, then, was
the task of that supremely great individuality usually called the ‘Buddha’?
If we want to
understand the task and mission of this Buddha in the sense of true
esoteriscism, we must realize the following. The cognitive faculty of mankind
has developed gradually. Attention has repeatedly been drawn to the fact that in
the Atlantean epoch a large proportion of humanity was clairvoyant and able to
gaze into the spiritual worlds, and that certain remnants of this old
clairvoyance were still present in post-Atlantean times. After the Atlantean
epoch, in the periods of the civilizations of ancient India, Persia, Egypt, and
Chaldea — even as late as the Graeco-Latin age — there were numbers of human
beings, many more than modern man would ever imagine, who possessed the heritage
of this old clairvoyance; the astral plane was open to them and they could see
into the hidden depths of existence. Perception of man's etheric body was quite
usual in the Graeco-Latin age; numbers of people were able to see the human head
surrounded by an etheric cloud, which has gradually become entirely concealed
within the head. But humanity was to advance to a form of knowledge acquired
through the outer senses and through the spiritual faculties connected with the
senses. Man was gradually to emerge altogether from the spiritual world and to
engage in pure sense-observation, in intellectual, logical thinking. By degrees
he was to make his way to non-clairvoyant cognition, because he must pass
through this stage in order to regain clairvoyant knowledge in the future. But
such knowledge will then be united with the fruits of cognition based upon the
senses and the intellect.
At the present
time we are living in an intermediate period. We look back to a past when man
was clairvoyant, and to a future when this will again be the case. In our
present age the majority of human beings are dependent upon what they perceive
with their senses and grasp with their intellect. There are, of course, certain
heights even in sensory perception and in knowledge yielded by the intellect and
reasoning mind; everywhere there are degrees of knowledge. One person in a
certain incarnation passes through his existence on Earth with little insight
into what is moral, and little compassion for his fellow-men. We say of him that
he is at a low stage of morality. Another passes through life with very slightly
developed intellectual capacities; we call him a person of low intelligence. But
these powers of intellectual cognition are capable of rising to a very lofty
level. A man whom, in Fichte's sense, we call a ‘moral genius’ reaches the
highest level of moral Imagination, but there are many intermediate stages.
Without possessing clairvoyant faculties we can reach this height only by
ennobling powers that are at the disposal of ordinary humanity. These stages had
to be attained by man in the course of Earth evolution. What man knows today to
a certain extent through his own intelligence and also what he attains through
his own moral strength, namely the consciousness that he must have compassion
with the sufferings and sorrows of others — this consciousness could not have
been acquired by a human being in primeval times through his own efforts. It can
be said today that such insight is unfolded by a healthy moral sense, even
without clairvoyance, and to an increasing extent men will come to realize not
only that compassion is the very highest virtue but that without love humanity
can make no progress.
Man's moral
sense will grow steadily stronger. But there were epochs in the past when he
would never have understood by himself that compassion and love belong to a very
high stage of development. It was therefore necessary for spiritual beings such
as the Bodhisattvas to incarnate in human forms. Revelations of the power of
compassion and love came to such beings from the higher worlds and they were
able to teach men how to act accordingly. What men have come to recognize today
through their own powers as the lofty virtues of compassion and love —
this had to be taught, through epoch after epoch, from heavenly heights.
The teacher of
love and compassion in times when men themselves did not yet realize the nature
of those virtues was the Bodhisattva who incarnated for the last time as Gautama
Buddha. Buddha was formerly the Bodhisattva, the teacher of love and compassion.
He was the teacher throughout the epochs just referred to, when men still
possessed a certain natural clairvoyance. As Bodhisattva he incarnated in bodies
endowed with powers of clairvoyance. Then, when he became Buddha and looked back
into these previous incarnations, he could describe the experiences of his
inmost soul when it gazed into the depths of existence hidden behind
sense-phenomena. He possessed this faculty in previous embodiments and was born
with it into the family of Sakya, from which his father, Suddhodana, descended.
When Gautama was born he was still a Bodhisattva, that is to say he came at the
stage of development reached in his previous incarnations. He who is usually
called the ‘Buddha’ was born to his father, Suddhodana, and his mother, Mayadevi, as
a Bodhisattva and possessed the faculty of clairvoyance in a high degree even as
a child. He was always able to gaze into the depths of existence.
Let us realize
that in the course of human evolution this capacity to gaze into the depths of
existence has assumed very definite forms. It was the mission of humanity in
earthly evolution to allow the old, dim clairvoyance gradually to die away;
vestiges that persisted did not, therefore, retain the best elements of that
ancient faculty. The best elements were the first to be lost. What remained was
often a lower form of vision of the astral world, a vision of those demonic
forces which drag man's instincts and passions to a lower level. Through
initiation we can look into the spiritual world and perceive forces and beings
that are connected with the finest thoughts and sentiments of men, but we also
perceive the spiritual powers behind unbridled passions, sensuality, consuming
egoism. The vestiges of clairvoyance in the majority of human beings — it was
different, of course, in the initiates — led to vision of these wild, demonic
powers behind the lower human passions. Whoever is able to see into the
spiritual world can of course perceive all this himself; true vision depends
upon the development of human faculties. But the one vision cannot be attained
without the other.
As a Bodhisattva
the Buddha had been obliged to incarnate in a body constituted as other human
bodies were at that time. The body in which he incarnated provided him with the
power to look deeply into the astral substrata of existence, and even as a child
he was able to perceive all the astral forces underlying the unbridled passions
of men, their consuming lusts and sensuality. He had been protected from
witnessing physical depravity in the outer world, with its accompanying
sufferings and sorrows. Confined to his father's palace, shielded from every
unpleasant experience, he was indulged and pampered in a way considered fitting
for his rank. But this seclusion only enhanced his power of vision, and while he
was carefully protected and everything indicative of pain and sickness hidden
from him, his eyes of spirit were able to gaze at the astral pictures hovering
around him of all the wild, degrading passions of men. Whoever can read the
external biography of Buddha with genuine esoteric insight will surmise this. It
must be emphasized that in exoteric accounts there is often a great deal that
cannot be understood without knowledge of the esoteric foundations — and this
applies very particularly to the life of Buddha.
It must seem
strange to Orientalists and others who study the life of Buddha to read that he
was surrounded in the palace by ‘forty thousand dancing-girls and eighty-four
thousand women’. That statement is to be found in books sold today for a few
shillings, and the writers are obviously not particularly astonished at the
existence of such a harem! What is the explanation? It is not realized that this
points to the intensity of the experiences that arose in Buddha through his
astral visions. Guarded from childhood against all knowledge of sorrow and
suffering in the world of physical humanity, he perceived everything as
spiritual forces in the spiritual world. He saw all this because he was born
into a body such as could be produced at that time; but from the outset he was
proof against the delusive pictures around him, having in his previous
incarnations risen to the height of a Bodhisattva. Because in this incarnation
he was living as the Bodhisattva he felt impelled to go out into the world in
order to see the things indicated by the pictures appearing in the astral world
around him in the palace. Every picture kindled within him an urge to go out and
see the world, to leave his prison. That was the impelling urge in his soul, for
as Bodhisattva there was in him the lofty spiritual power connected with the
mission of imparting to mankind the teaching of compassion and love, with all
its implications. Hence it was necessary for him to become acquainted with
humanity in the world in which man can assimilate this teaching through moral
insight. Buddha was to acquire knowledge of the life of humanity in the physical
world. From Bodhisattva he was to become Buddha — as a man among men. The only
possibility of achieving this was to abandon all the faculties that had remained
to him from his former incarnations and to turn outward to the physical plane
in order to live there among men as a model, an ideal, an example to humanity of
the development of these qualities.
Naturally, many
intermediate stages are necessary before an advance from the stage of
Bodhisattva to that of Buddha can be accomplished in this sense. Such an advance
does not take place from one day to the next.
Buddha felt
impelled to leave the palace. The story is that on one occasion he escaped from
his royal prison and came across an aged man. Hitherto he had been surrounded
only by the spectacle of exuberant youth, in order to induce him to believe that
nothing else existed. Now, in the old man, he encountered the phenomenon of
advanced age on the physical plane. Then he came across a sick man; then he saw
a corpse — the manifestation of death on the physical plane. All this came
before him. The legend — here once again truer than any external account — goes
on to relate something very indicative of Buddha's essential nature: that when
he left the palace, the horse by which he was drawn was so saddened by his
decision to forsake everything that had surrounded him since his birth that it
died of grief and was transported as a spiritual being into the spiritual world.
[ 2 ] — A profound truth is expressed here. It
would lead too far for me to explain why a horse is taken as a symbol for a
spiritual power of man. I will only remind you of Plato, who speaks of a horse
led by a bridle when he is using a symbol for certain human capacities that are
still bestowed from above and have not been developed by man from his own inmost
self. When Buddha departed from the palace he relinquished these faculties, left
them in the spiritual world whence they had always guided him. This is indicated
in the picture of the horse which dies of grief and is transported into the
spiritual world. But it was only gradually that Buddha could attain the rank he
was destined to reach in his final incarnation on the Earth. He had first to
learn on the physical plane everything that as Bodhisattva he had known only
through spiritual vision.
To begin with he
encountered two teachers, the one an exponent of the ancient Indian
world-conception known as the Sankhya philosophy, the other an exponent of the
Yoga philosophy. Buddha steeped himself in what they expounded to him. No matter
how exalted a being may be, he has to become acquainted with the external
achievements of humanity; and although a Bodhisattva may learn more quickly, he
must learn none the less. If the Bodhisattva who lived six hundred years before
our era were born today, he would still, like a child at school, first have to
learn about happenings on Earth while he was still in spiritual heights. It was
essential that Buddha too should have knowledge of what had been accomplished
since his previous incarnation.
He learnt the
principles of the Sankhya philosophy from the one teacher and of the Yoga
philosophy from the other, thereby acquiring a certain insight into
world-conceptions which solved the riddles of life for many in those days, and
into their effect upon the souls of men. In the Sankhya philosophy he was able
to assimilate an intricate system of logical thought, but the more he
familiarized himself with it the less it satisfied him, until finally it
seemed to him to be utterly devoid of life. He realized that he must seek
elsewhere than in the traditional Sankhya philosophy for the sources of what it
was his task to achieve in this incarnation.
The second
system was the Yoga philosophy of Patanjali, which sought to establish
connection with the Divine through certain processes in the life of the soul.
Buddha devoted deep study to the Yoga philosophy as well; he assimilated it,
made it part of his very being. But it too left him unsatisfied, for he
perceived that it was something that had simply been handed down from ancient
time. Human beings were meant, however, to acquire different faculties, to
achieve moral development themselves. Having put the Yoga philosophy to
the test in his own soul, Buddha realized that it could not satisfy the needs of
his mission.
He then came
into the neighborhood of five ascetics who had striven to approach the
mysteries of existence by the path of severest self-discipline, mortification,
and privation. Having tested this path too, Buddha was again obliged to admit
that it would not satisfy the needs of his mission at that time. For a certain
period he underwent all the privations and mortifications practiced by the
monks. He starved as they did, in order to eliminate greed and thereby evoke
deeper forces which come into action when the body is weakened and then, rising
up from the depths of the bodily nature, can lead a man rapidly into the
spiritual world. But the stage of development he had reached enabled Buddha to
perceive the futility of this mortification, fasting, and starvation. Because he
was a Bodhisattva, his development in previous incarnations had enabled him to
bring the physical body to the highest pitch of perfection possible in that age.
Hence he could experience what any man must experience when he takes this
particular path into the spiritual world. Whoever pursues the Sankhya or Yoga
philosophy to a certain point without having developed in himself what Buddha
had previously acquired, whoever aspires to scale the pure heights of Divine
Spirit through logical thinking without having first gained the requisite moral
strength, will be subjected to temptation by the demon Mara. This ordeal was
undergone by Buddha as a test. At this point the human being is beset by all the
devils of pride, vanity, and ambition, as was Buddha when Mara stood before him.
But having previously reached the lofty stage of Bodhisattva, he recognized the
demon and was proof against him. Buddha could say to himself: If men continue to
develop along the old path, without the new impulse contained in the teaching of
compassion and love, they are bound, not being Bodhisattvas, to fall prey to the
demon Mara, who pours all the forces of pride and vanity into their souls.
This was what
Buddha experienced when he had worked through the Sankhya and Yoga philosophies,
following them to their final conclusions. While he was with the monks, however,
he had had an experience in which the demon assumed a different form, one in
which he arrays before the human being an abundance of external, physical
possessions — ‘the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them’ — in order to
divert him from the spiritual world. Buddha found that this temptation comes
precisely on the path of mortification, for the demon Mara approached him,
saying: ‘Be not misled into abandoning everything that was yours as a king's
son; return to the royal palace!’ Another man would have yielded to what was
then presented to him, but Buddha's development was such that he could see
through the tempter and his aim, could perceive what would befall humanity if
men lived on as hitherto and chose the path of hunger and mortification as the
only means of ascent into the spiritual world. Being himself proof against this
temptation he could disclose to men the great danger that would threaten them if
they chose to penetrate into the spiritual world simply by means of fasting and
external measures of the kind, without the foundation of an active moral
sense.
Thus while still
a Bodhisattva, Buddha had advanced to those two boundary-points in development
which a man who is not a Bodhisattva had better avoid altogether. Translating
this into words of ordinary parlance, we may say: ‘The highest knowledge is full
of glory and of beauty. But see that you approach this knowledge with a clean
heart, noble purpose, and purified soul — otherwise the devil of pride, vanity,
and ambition will seize you!’ The second teaching is this: ‘Strive not to enter
the spiritual world by any external path, through mortification or fasting,
until you have purified your moral sense — otherwise the tempter will approach
you from the other side!’ — These are the two teachings whose light shines from
Buddha into our own age. While still a Bodhisattva he revealed the essential
purpose of his mission — which was to impart the moral sense to humanity in an
age when men were not yet capable of unfolding it out of their own hearts. Thus
when he realized the dangers of asceticism for mankind he left the five monks
and went to a place where, by an intense deepening of those faculties of human
nature which can be developed without the old clairvoyance, without any capacity
inherited from earlier times, he achieved the highest perfection that it will
ever be possible for mankind to achieve by means of these faculties.
In the
twenty-ninth year of his life, after having abandoned the path of asceticism,
there dawned upon Buddha during his seven days of meditation under the
Bodhi tree the great truths that can flash up in a man when, in deep
contemplation, he strives to discover what his own faculties can impart to him.
There dawned upon Buddha the great teachings he then proclaimed as the Four
Truths and the doctrine of compassion and love presented as the Eightfold
Path. We shall be considering these teachings of Buddha later on. At the
moment it will be sufficient to say that they are a kind of portrayal of the
moral sense and of the purest doctrine of compassion and love. They arose when,
under the Bodhi tree, the Bodhisattva of India became Buddha. The teaching of
compassion and love came into existence then for the first time in the history
of mankind in the form of human faculties, which man has since been able
to develop from his own self. That is the essential point. Therefore
shortly before his death Buddha said to his disciples: ‘Grieve not that the
Master is departing. I am leaving with you the Law of Wisdom and the Law of
Discipline. For the future they will serve as substitutes for the Master.’ These
words mean simply: Hitherto the Bodhisattva has taught you what is
expressed in the Law; now, having fulfilled his incarnation on Earth, he may
withdraw. For men will absorb into their own hearts the teaching of the
Bodhisattva and from their own hearts will be able to develop this teaching as
the religion of compassion and love. That was what came to pass in India when,
after seven days of inner contemplation, the Bodhisattva became Buddha; and that
was what he taught in diverse forms to the pupils who were around him. The
actual forms in which he gave his teaching will still have to be considered.
It was necessary
for us today to look back to what happened six hundred years before our era
because we shall neither understand the path of Christianity nor what is
indicated about that path, above all by the writer of the Gospel of St. Luke,
unless we follow evolution backwards from the events in Palestine to the Sermon
at Benares. Since Buddha attained that rank there was no need for him to return
to the Earth; since then he has been a spiritual being, living in the spiritual
world and participating in everything that has transpired on Earth. When the
greatest of all happenings on the Earth was about to come to pass, there
appeared to the shepherds in the fields a being from spiritual heights who made
the proclamation recorded in the Gospel of St. Luke. Then, together with the
angel, there suddenly appeared a ‘heavenly host’. The ‘heavenly host’ was the
picture of the glorified Buddha, seen by the shepherds in vision; he was
the Bodhisattva of ancient times, the being in his spiritual form who for
thousands and thousands of years had brought to men the message of compassion
and love. Now, after his last incarnation on the Earth, he soared in spiritual
heights and appeared to the shepherds together with the angel who had announced
to them the Event of Palestine.
These are the
findings of spiritual investigation. It was the Bodhisattva of old who now, in
the glory of Buddhahood, appeared to the shepherds. From the akashic chronicle
we learn that in Palestine, in the ‘City of David’, a child was born to parents
descended from the priestly line of the House of David. This child — I say it
with emphasis — born of parents of whom the father at any rate was descended
from the priestly line of the House of David, was to be shone upon from the very
day of birth by the power radiating from Buddha in the spiritual world. We look
with the shepherds into the manger where ‘Jesus of Nazareth’, as he is usually
called, was born, and see the radiance above the little child; we know that in
this picture is expressed the power of the Bodhisattva who became Buddha — the
power that had formerly streamed to men and, working now upon humanity from the
spiritual world, accomplished its greatest deed by shedding its lustre upon the
child born at Bethlehem.
When the
individuality whose power now rayed down from spiritual heights upon the child
of parents belonging to David's line was born in India long ago — when the
Buddha to be was born as Bodhisattva — the whole momentous significance of the
events described today was revealed to a sage living at that time, and what he
beheld in the spiritual world caused that sage — Asita was his name — to go to
the royal palace to look for the little Bodhisattva-child. When he saw the babe
he foretold his mighty mission as Buddha, predicting, to the father's dismay,
that the child would not rule over his kingdom, but would become a Buddha. Then
Asita began to weep, and when asked whether misfortune threatened the child, he
answered: ‘No, I am weeping because I am so old that I shall not live to see the
day when this Savior, the Bodhisattva, will walk the Earth as Buddha!’ Asita
did not live to see the Bodhisattva become Buddha and there was good reason for
his grief at that time. But the same Asita who had seen the Bodhisattva as a
babe in the palace of King Suddhodana was born again as the personality who, in
the Gospel of St. Luke, is referred to as Simeon in the scene of the
presentation in the temple. We are told that Simeon was inspired by the Spirit
to go into the temple, where the child was brought to him (Luke II, 25–32). Simeon was the same being who,
as Asita, had wept because in that incarnation he would not be able to see the
Bodhisattva attaining Buddhahood. But it was granted to him to witness the
further stage in the development of this individuality, and having ‘the Holy
Spirit upon him’ he was able to perceive, at the presentation in the temple, the
radiance of the glorified Bodhisattva above the head of the Jesus-child of the
House of David. Then he could say to himself: ‘Now you need no longer grieve,
for what you did not live to see at that earlier time, you now behold: the glory
of the Savior shining above this babe. Lord, now let thy servant die in
peace!’
Notes:1. These lectures-courses were given in April 1909, and August 1909, respectively. Both have been translated into English.2. See Buddhism in Translation, by Henry Clarke Warren (Harvard Oriental Series, Vol. III, second issue). This legend is given in great detail in the chapter entitled The Great Retirement, pp. 56–67. Difficult passages referring to "Kanthaka the king of horses" become intelligible in the light of what Dr. Steiner says here. According to the legend, Kanthaka came into existence “at the very time that the future Buddha was born” and died of a broken heart at the final parting from his master, thereupon to be reborn in heaven as the "God Kanthaka".
Source: http://wn.rsarchive.org/Lectures/Dates/19090916p01.html
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