Friday, December 4, 2015

Anthroposophy: The Sap of the Tree of Life. The New Adam. The Microcosm. Orpheus and Eurydice. The Son of God and the Son of Man.


Background to the Gospel of Mark. Lecture 6.

Rudolf Steiner, Berlin, January 16, 1911:
If you continue reading the Gospel of Mark from the verses we endeavored to explain in the last lecture, you come to a remarkable passage similar in every way to what we are told in the other Gospels, but the full meaning of which can be best studied in the Gospel of Mark. This passage tells how Jesus Christ, after He had received baptism in the Jordan and passed through the experiences met with in the wilderness, went into the synagogue and taught. The passage is generally translated as follows: “And they were astonished at his doctrine: for He taught them as one that had authority, and not as the scribes.” What more does this sentence mean to the man of today, however much he may believe the Bible, than the somewhat abstract statement: “He taught with authority and not as the scribes?” If we take the Greek text we find for the words “For he taught with authority”— “He taught as an Exusiai” and not as the “scribes.”
If we enter deeply into the meaning of this important passage, it leads us a step further toward what may be called the secrets of the mission of Christ Jesus. For I have already remarked that the Gospels as well as other writings that spring from inspired sources are not to be understood so simply as people think, but that we must bring to the understanding of them everything in the way of thoughts and ideas concerning the spiritual world that we have been able to acquire in the course of many years. Only such thoughts can show us what is meant in the Gospel where it says: For he taught those who sat in the synagogue as an “Exusiai,” as a Power, and not as those who are here called “scribes.”
If such a sentence is to be understood we must recall the knowledge we have acquired in recent years concerning the supersensible worlds. We have learnt during this period that man as he lives in this world is the lowest member of a hierarchical order; it is here we must place him. He is a part of the supersensible world, a world where, in the first place, we find beings called in Christian esotericism Angeloi or Angels; these are the beings standing next above man. Above them come the Archangeloi or Archangels, then the Archai or Spirits of Personality. Above these again are the Exusiai, Dynamis, and Kyriotetes, and still higher are the Thrones, Cherubim, and Seraphim. We have thus a hierarchical order of nine kinds of beings one above the other, the lowest of which is man. Now we ought to understand how these many different spiritual or supersensible beings intervene in our lives.
Angels are those who, as messengers of supersensible realms, stand nearest to man as he is on Earth; they constantly influence what may be called the fate of individuals on our physical plane. As soon as we mention Archangels on the other hand, we speak of spiritual beings whose activities cover a wider span. We can also call them “Folk Spirits,” for they order and guide the concerns of whole nations or groups of peoples.
When a “Folk Spirit” is spoken of today, people generally mean so many thousands of people who are guided by this spirit merely because they live within the same territory. But when a “Folk Spirit” is spoken of in spiritual science, we mean the individuality of the people, not such or such a number of people, but a real individuality, just as we speak of the “individuality” of separate men. And when speaking of the spiritual guidance of the individuality of a people, this guide or leader is called an Archangel. In speaking of these exalted beings we speak of real supersensible entities having their own spheres of activity. The Archai (called also Spirits of Personality, or First Beginnings) are spoken of in spiritual science as being again different from “Folk Spirits.” We speak, for instance, of a French or an English or a German “Folk Spirit,” and in doing so speak of something allotted to different parts of the Earth. But there is something that unites all men, at least all Western humanity, something in which these people feel at one. This, in contradistinction to the separate “Folk Spirits,” we call the “Spirit of the Age, or Time Spirit” (Zeitgeist); there is a different “Time Spirit” or Zeitgeist for the time of the Reformation from that of pre-Reformation times, and again a different one for our own day. The beings we call “Time Spirits” or Zeitgeists have therefore to be ranked above the separate “Folk Spirits”; in fact the name Archai is given to these leaders of succeeding epochs, but all the same they are “Time Spirits.”
When we rise still higher we come to the Exusiai, here we have to do with a quite different kind of supersensible being. In order to form an idea of how the beings of the higher hierarchies differ from the three just mentioned — the Angels, Archangels, Archai — think how similar members of one group of people is to another. As regards their external physical constitution — as regards what they eat and drink, for instance — we cannot say they differ very much in anything outside the realm of the soul and spirit. Even in respect of succeeding epochs of time we must allow that the spiritual guides of humanity are connected only with the things of soul and spirit. But man does not consist only of soul and spirit, these influence mainly his astral body, but within his being are also denser parts, and these, as regards the activities of the Archai, Archangels, and Angels, do not differ much from each other. Creative influences are however at work on these denser members of man's being, and this creative activity of hierarchical beings, beginning with the “Exusiai,” continues upward.
We have to thank the “Time Spirits” — Zeitgeists or Archai — and the “Folk Spirit” or Archangels for ideas connected with time and for speech, but human nature is influenced also by other things, by what lives in light and air and in the climate of particular districts. The humanity that flourishes at the Equator is different from that which flourishes at the North Pole. We do not perhaps quite agree with a well-known German professor of philosophy who states in a widely read book that “Important civilizations must develop in the temperate zone, for all those great beings who have introduced important civilizations would have frozen at the North Pole and been burnt up at the Equator!” We can say, however, that food, etc., is different in different climates, and this affects people differently. External conditions are by no means unimportant to the character of a people, whether this people dwells, for instance, among mountains or on wide plains. We observe how the forces of nature influence the whole constitution of man, and as students of spiritual science we know that the forces of nature are nothing else than the result of the activities of beings of a spiritual nature. For we hold that supersensible spiritual beings are active in all the forces of nature and make use of these to influence man. We therefore distinguish between the activities of Archai and of Exusiai by saying: Angels, Archangels, and Archai do not influence man by making use of the forces of nature, but they make use of that which affects his spiritual nature, his speech, and the ideas that connect him with epochs of time. The activity of these beings does not extend to the lower members of his organism, neither to the etheric nor yet the physical body. In the Exusiai, on the other hand, we have to recognize those higher beings affecting mankind who work through the forces of nature, who are the bringers to man of the different kinds of air and light, of the various ways in which foodstuffs are produced within the different kingdoms of nature. It is they who control these kingdoms of nature.
What comes to us in thunder and lightning, in rain and sunshine, how one kind of food grows in one region, other kinds in other regions — in short, the whole distribution and organization of earthly conditions — we ascribe to spiritual beings that have to be sought among the higher hierarchies. So that when we look up to the nature of the Exusiai we do not see the result of their activities in any such invisible way as in the case of the “Time Spirits” for instance; but we see in them that which works on us in light, and that also works on the plant creation as light.
Let us now consider what was given to man as “culture,” what he had to learn in order to progress. Every man receives in his own age what this age has produced, but he also receives to a certain extent what former ages have produced. This can, however, only be preserved historically, can only be the result of historical teaching and learning. This is derived from the lowest of the hierarchies, and reaches as far as to the “Time Spirit.” What comes to man on the other hand from the kingdoms of nature cannot be preserved in records or traditions. Yet those who are able to penetrate to supersensible worlds pass beyond the sphere of Archangels to still higher revelations. Such revelations are perceived as carrying more weight than what comes from the realms of the Zeitgeists, they affect mankind in a quite special way.
Every clear-thinking man should occasionally turn back and seriously ask himself — “Which has the greatest effect on my soul: that which I have learnt from the traditions of different peoples and ‘Time Spirits’ since history began, or a lovely sunrise; that is, than the revelations of spiritual worlds presented to me by nature itself?”
Such a man feels that the grandeur and beauty of a sunrise reveals infinitely more to his soul than all the sciences, learning, and art of the ages. What nature reveals can be felt by anyone who having visited the art galleries of Italy and seen what have been preserved to us of the works of Michelangelo, of Leonardo da Vinci, or Raphael, and having allowed the power of these to act on him, has then climbed one of the mountains of Switzerland, and viewed the marvellous spectacles provided by nature. He might then ask: Who is the greater painter, Raphael and Leonardo da Vinci, or those powers who paint the sunrise as seen from the Rigi? And he would be obliged to answer: However much we may admire what man has achieved, what is here presented to us as the divine revelation of spiritual powers appears to us infinitely the greater!
When the great spiritual leaders of men appear whom we call initiates, who speak not according to tradition but in an original way, their revelations resemble the revelations of nature itself. But what we feel in a sunrise would never have the same effect on us if it were something merely repeated. Compared with what we have received as the communications of Moses and Zarathustra, when these were traditional and had been handed down as the external culture which the “Time Spirits” and “Folk Spirits” had preserved and then passed on — compared with this, what nature has to give is infinitely greater. For the revelations of Moses and of Zarathustra only worked as powerfully as nature's revelations when they sprang directly from the experiences of supersensible worlds.
The grandeur of the original revelations made to man is seen in their power to affect him in the same way as the revelations of nature itself. But this only begins where, as lowest among the hierarchies controlling nature, we divine something of the Exusiai.
What then was felt by those who sat in the synagogues when the Christ appeared among them?
We are told by the “grammarians” that until then they had experienced those things which the “Time Spirits,” “Folk Spirits,” and others had communicated to them. People had got accustomed to this; but now One had appeared who did not teach as those others, but so that His words were a revelation of the supersensible Powers in nature itself, or of the Powers working in thunder and lightning.
Therefore when we know how the greatness of the hierarchies increases as they ascend, we can understand such a saying in the Gospels and accept it in the full depth of its meaning. This is how we must feel about these words in the Gospel according to Mark, and even in such human endeavors as have come down to us in the works of art of Raphael and Leonardo da Vinci. Anyone with a feeling for the supersensible quality lying behind these is aware — even in what remains — of all they originally presented to us. So that it is in all great works of art, in all great works of genius. Something continues to affect us in these like an echo of those others [the hierarchies]; and if we are able to see what Raphael, for instance, put into his pictures, or if we are able to pour fresh life into the works of Zarathustra, we can hear in them something of what streams down to us from the realms of the Exusiai. But in what was taught by the scribes in the synagogue, that is, by those who accepted what originated from the “Folk Spirits” and ”Time Spirits,” nothing could be heard that agreed in any way with the revelations of nature.
We are justified therefore in saying that a sentence like this shows that men began at that time to have a feeling, a presentiment, that something entirely new was speaking to them; that through this man who had appeared among them something made itself felt that was like a power of nature, like one of those supersensible powers that stand behind nature. Men began gradually to divine what it was that had entered into Jesus of Nazareth, and was symbolized in the baptism in the Jordan. In reality, they were not far from the truth when they said in the synagogue: We feel when He speaks as though one of the Exusiai spoke — not only an Archai, or Archangel, or Angel.
It is only through what spiritual science has given us that we can fill once more with living sap these modern translations of the Gospels that have become so thin and meaningless; only then are we able to learn how very much goes to a true understanding of what is contained in the Gospels. It will take many generations to fathom, even approximately, all the depths of which our present age is only beginning to have some perception.
What the writer of the Gospel according to Mark desired especially to point out was really a further development of the teaching of Paul, who was one of the first to grasp the nature and being of Christ through direct supersensible knowledge.
Men had now to understand what Paul taught to all, what it was that all men could receive into them through the revelation of Damascus. Although this event is described in the Bible as a sudden illumination, yet those who know the truth regarding such occurrences know that it can happen at any moment to one who desires to rise to spiritual realms; and that through what such a man experiences he becomes a changed being. With regard to Paul we are amply told how he became an entirely different man through the revelation made to him on the way to Damascus.
Even a superficial study of the letters of St. Paul will prove to anyone that he saw in the Event of Christ and in the Event of Golgotha the central point of our whole human evolution; that he associated this directly with that other event spoken of in the Bible as “the first creation,” the first Adam, so that he might have spoken somewhat as follows:
What we describe as the true man, the spiritual man — of whom in this world of maya only a maya exists — came down in ancient Lemurian times to this world of illusion and to all he had to experience in the flesh in successive incarnations. He became man, as this was understood in Lemurian and Atlantean times, and up to the time of Christ. Then came the Event of Golgotha. All this was firmly fixed in the mind of Paul after the vision of Damascus. He realized that in the Event of Golgotha something was given which is comparable with the descent of man into the flesh. With this was given an impulse by which he could gradually overcome those forms of earthly existence which had entered into him through “Adam.” Hence Paul calls the humanity that began with Christ the “new Adam,” the “Adam” that everyone can put on through union with the Christ.
We have therefore to see in the man of Lemurian times, and on into pre-Christian humanity, a slow and gradual descent of man into matter (whether he be called Adam or not). Then came the power and impulse that enabled him to rise again; so that along with all he acquired in earthly life man was able to return to his original spiritual state, that state in which he was before he descended into matter. Unless we misunderstand the true meaning of evolution we must now ask “Could man not have been spared this descent? Why had he to enter a fleshly body and pass through many incarnations, only then to rise again to what he had been before?" Such questions can only spring from a complete misunderstanding of the spiritual nature of evolution. For man takes with him all the fruits and experiences of his earthly evolution, and is enriched with the results of his incarnations. These are results, contents, which he did not have previously. Picture to yourselves a man entering into his first incarnation: in it he learns certain things; he learns more in the second incarnation, and so on through all his subsequent incarnations. The course of these is a descending one; he is entangled more and more in the physical world. Then he begins to rise again, and is able to rise so far that he can receive within him the Christ Impulse. One day he will again enter the spiritual world, but will have taken with him all he had gained on Earth.
Paul saw in the Christ the true central point of the whole earthly evolution of man; he saw what gave man the impulse to rise to supersensible worlds enriched by all the experiences he had gained on Earth.
How, from this standpoint, did Paul regard the sacrifice on Golgotha, the actual crucifixion? It is not easy to bring these facts, these most essential facts of human evolution, clearly before modern minds, in the sense in which Paul saw them. For this sense is also that of the writer of the Gospel of Mark. Before we can do this we must make ourselves familiar with the thought that in man, as he comes before us today, we are concerned with a microcosm, a small world, and we must study everything that this idea brings with it.
As man comes before us today in the course of his evolution between birth and death in one incarnation, two parts of his development are presented which differ greatly from each other; only this difference is not noticed as a rule. I have frequently spoken about these fundamentally different parts of man's life (for our whole spiritually scientific endeavour has a more systematic construction than is often supposed); one of these parts or periods is that between birth and the moment to which at the present time memory extends. If we trace our life backwards, a point is finally reached beyond which all memory ceases. Although you were present, and have perhaps been told by parents or relatives of things you did, and so have knowledge of them, you have no recollection of them; memory does not reach beyond a certain point. Under favorable circumstances this lies round about the third year. Up to this period the child is specially active and impressionable. How much he has learnt during this period, during his first, second, and third years! But of how things impressed him he has not the least recollection.
Then follows the time through which the thread of conscious memory extends smoothly.
These two parts of his development should be carefully considered, for they are of very great importance when man is studied as a whole. Human evolution must be followed carefully, and without the prejudices of modern science. The facts of modern science certainly confirm what I have to say; but if we are not to wander far from the truth we must not follow the prejudice of science. Observing human evolution closely, we say: Man's life among his fellows as a social being can only be lived in accordance with conditions regulated by memory, which begins as a rule about his third year. Of all that concerns this we can say: it is under the direction of our conscious life; all the things we consciously accept as laws according to which we guide our impulses, etc., and that we feel to be worthy, all this is contained in memory. Of what lies before we are unconscious so far as ego consciousness is concerned.
The threads of memory which belong to our conscious life do not reach to this period. There are therefore certain years of our conscious life during which the surrounding world works on us quite differently from how it does later. The difference is a most radical one. Were we able to observe a child before the period to which at a later age its memory extended, we should see that it then feels itself to be much more within general macrocosmic spiritual life; it is not yet separated from this, is not yet isolated within itself, but reckons that it belongs rather to the whole surrounding universe. It does not express itself as others; it does not say “I will,” but “Johnnie wills.” It only learns later to speak of itself as an ego; modern psychologists criticize such facts adversely, but this in no way denies the truth, but only their own powers of insight.
In its early years a child still feels within the whole surrounding world, feels that it is a part of this world. Memory first begins when it separates itself as an individual from the world around it. We can therefore say: the laws a man accepts, and which form the content of his consciousness, belong to the second part of his consciousness, to the second part of his evolution, the part we have just described. A quite different relationship to his environment belongs to the first part: he then feels far more a part of, far more within, the environing world. What I wish to say can only he clearly understood if you imagine hypothetically that the consciousness which gives man this direct contact with the surrounding universe in the first years of childhood were able to continue. In that case his life would be entirely different: he would not feel so isolated, but would feel in later life that he was a part of the whole macrocosm, that he was within the great world. At present he loses this. He has no later connection with that world, he feels cut off from it. If he is a man belonging to ordinary life this feeling of isolation only comes to him in an abstract way. For instance, it enters his consciousness for the most part when egoism increases, when he shuts himself up, as it were, more and more within his own skin. Opinions limiting his life to what is contained within his skin are but half-baked opinions — in fact nonsense, for the moment man exhales breath, the breath he had drawn in is now outside of him. So that even as regards our in-breathing and out-breathing we are continually in touch with our whole environment. The way man regards his own being is an absolute illusion, but his consciousness is such that he must live in this illusion. He cannot help himself. For we are really neither suited, nor are we ripe enough, to experience our own karma at the present day. If, for example, someone wishes to close the window, we are apt, because we regard ourselves as separate beings, to feel injured and annoyed. But if we believed in karma we would feel that we belonged to the whole macrocosm, and would know as a fact that it was really we who had closed the window, for we are interwoven with the whole cosmos. It is absolute nonsense to think we are enclosed within our skin. But the feeling of being one with the macrocosm is only retained by the child in its early years, it is lost from the point of time to which later its memory extends.
Things were not always thus. In former times, which do not lie so very far behind us, man was still able to a certain extent to carry this consciousness of his early years on into later times. This was in the days of the ancient clairvoyance. With it was associated a quite different kind of thinking, as well as a different way of expressing facts. This is something belonging to human evolution that it would be well the student of spiritual science should understand.
When a man is born among us at the present day, what is he? He is in the first place the son of his father and of his mother. And if in communal life he has not got a certificate of birth or baptism showing the standing of his father and mother by which he can be identified, nothing is known of him, and his existence is ignored. According to the ideas of the present day, a man is the physical son of his father and of his mother.
This is not how men thought at a time not so very long ago. But because the scientists and investigators of today do not know that in former times men thought differently, that their words and their relationships to each other were different from what they are now, they have therefore arrived at interpretations of ancient communications that are also quite different. We are told, for instance, in these ancient communications of a Greek singer, Orpheus. I select him because he belongs to an age immediately preceding that of Christianity. It was Orpheus who inaugurated the Grecian Mysteries. The Greek age falls within the fourth period of post-Atlantean civilizations, so that in a way the Greeks were prepared by Orpheus for what they were to receive later through the Christ Event.
What would a modern man say if confronted by a person like Orpheus? He would say: He is the son of such and such a father and mother; modern science might perhaps even look for “inherited attributes” in him. There exists today a large volume treating of all the inherited characteristics of the Goethe family, and would present Goethe as the sum of these inherited attributes. People did not think in this way at the time of Orpheus, they did not then regard external man and his attributes as what was most essential. The most essential thing in Orpheus was the power by which he became the inaugurator, the true leader, of pre-Christian civilization in Greece. They recognized quite clearly that his physical brain and nervous system were not what was most important in him. They considered this to be far more the fact that he bore within him an element that had its direct source in supersensible worlds, that through it, all he experienced in these worlds came in touch, by means of his personality, with a physical-sensible element, and could then express itself in the various stages provided by a physical personality. The Greeks saw in Orpheus not the man of flesh descended from father and mother, even perhaps from grandfather and grandmother: this was not to them the main thing, it was only his shell, his outer presentment. For them the essential thing in him was what had descended from a supersensible source, and had entered into a sensible being on the physical plane.
When the Greeks confronted Orpheus they hardly considered his descent from father and mother; what mattered to them was the fact that his soul qualities, the qualities through which he had become what he was, sprang from a supersensible source that till then had never had any connection with the physical plane, and that through what this man was, a supersensible element was able to work within his personality and be united with it.
Because the Greeks saw, as what was most essential in Orpheus, a pure supersensible element, they said of him: “He is descended from a Muse.” He was the son of the Muse Calliope; he was not the son of any mere earthly mother, but of a supersensible element that had never had connection with sensible things. Had he been the son of Calliope alone, he could only have given information concerning supersensible worlds. But because of the age in which he lived, he was ordained to give expression also to that which would be of service to his age physically. He was not only an instrument for the voice of the Muse Calliope — as the Rishis at an earlier day had been the vocal instruments of certain supersensible forces — but he was able to express supersensible things so vividly in his own life that the physical world was influenced by him. Because Orpheus had a Thracean river God for his father, what he taught was closely associated on the other side with nature, with the climate of Greece, and with all that external nature gave to the river god, Oiagros.
We gather therefore that the soul-nature of Orpheus was considered the most important part of him. It was in respect of their souls men were described long ago, not as became customary later when people were described by saying: he is the son of so and so, and was born in such a town, but they were described according to their spiritual values.
It is extraordinarily interesting to note how intimately the fate of a man like Orpheus was felt; a man who was descended on one side from a muse and on the other from a river god. He had within him not merely supersensible qualities as the prophets had, but to these he had added sensible qualities. He was therefore exposed to all the influences exercised on man by the physical-sensible world.
You are well aware that the nature of man is composed of several members. The lowest of these is the physical body, then comes the etheric body (concerning which I told you that it comprises the opposite sex), then the astral body, and the ego. A man like Orpheus was still able to look on one side into the spiritual world because he was descended from a Muse (you now know what that means), but on the other side the capacities by which he could live in the spiritual world were undermined owing to the life he led on the physical plane, and because of his descent from his father, the Thracian river god. Through this his purely spiritual life was undermined. In the case of all the earlier leaders of mankind in the second and third periods of post-Atlantean culture, by whom only a verbal teaching concerning the spiritual world had been imparted, conditions were such that they were conscious of their own etheric body as something separated from their physical body. When in the civilizations of ancient Greece, and also in those of the Celts, a man was empowered to perceive what he had to communicate to his fellow-men, these revelations came to him because his etheric body extended beyond his physical body. It became in this case the bearer of forces which entered into the man. If the person giving out these revelations was a man and his etheric body therefore female, he perceived what he had to communicate from the spiritual world in a female form.
Now, it had to be shown that where Orpheus came into purely spiritual relationship with spiritual powers, he was exposed, owing to his being the son of the Thracian river god, to the risk of not being able to retain the revelations that came to him through his etheric body. The more he entered into the life of the physical world and expressed what he was as a son of Thrace, the more he lost his clairvoyant powers. This is shown in the fact that Eurydice, she through whom he revealed himself, his soul-bride, was removed from him, and was taken to the underworld. This occurred through the bite of an adder. He could only receive her back again by passing through an initiation. This he now did. Whenever we are told of anyone “going into the underworld,” it means an initiation; so he had to pass through an initiation before receiving his bride back again. But already he was too closely interwoven with the physical world. He certainly did attain powers by which he was able to penetrate to the underworld, but on his return, as he again beheld the light of the sun, Eurydice disappeared from his sight. Why? Because when he beheld the light of day he did something he should not have done — he looked back. That means, he overstepped a law strictly laid on him by the God of the underworld. What law is this? It is, that physical man as he lives on the physical plane today must not look back beyond that moment of time I have already described, within which lie the macrocosmic experiences of childhood, and which, when extended into later states of consciousness, gave him the ancient form of clairvoyance. “Thou shalt not desire to unravel the secrets of childhood,” said the God of the underworld, “nor remember how the threshold was crossed.” If he did this he lost the faculty of clairvoyance. Something infinitely fine and intimate in Orpheus is shown us by this loss of Eurydice, one result of which is the sacrifice of man to the physical world. With a nature that is still rooted in the spiritual world, he is directed to what he has to become on the physical plane. Through this nature all the powers of the physical plane rush in on him, and he loses “Eurydice” his own innocent soul, which must be lost to modern humanity. The forces among which he is then placed lacerate him. This in a certain sense is regarded as the sacrifice of Orpheus.
What did Orpheus experience as he lived on from the third to the fourth period of post-Atlantean culture? He experienced in the first place that stage of consciousness which the child leaves behind — he experienced connection with the macrocosm. This does not pass over into his conscious life. Therefore, as we see him, he is swallowed up, slain by life on the physical plane, which really begins at the point of time of which we have been speaking.
Consider now the man of the physical plane, who is normally only able to carry his memory back to a certain point of time, before which lie the first three years of childhood.
The thread of memory so entangles Orpheus with the physical plane that with his true nature he could not abide in it, but is torn to pieces. Thus it is with the spirit of man today; we see how profoundly the human spirit is entangled in matter. This is the spirit which, according to the Christianity of St. Paul, is called the “Son of Man.” You get this conception of the “Son of Man” who is in man from the point of time to which memory extends, along with all that he has gained through culture. Keep this man before you, and then think what he might have been through union with the macrocosm if there had entered into him all that streamed toward him from the macrocosm in the early years of childhood. In these early years what comes can only form a foundation, for the evolved human ego is not yet present. But if it entered into an evolved human ego there would then take place what occurred for the first time through the baptism in the Jordan at the moment when “the Spirit from above” descended upon Jesus of Nazareth. The three innocent stages of childhood's development would blend with all the rest of the human being. The consequence would be that as this innocent life of childhood sought to develop on the physical Earth, that it could do so only for three years (as is always the case): — it would meet its end on Golgotha. This means it cannot mingle with what man becomes at the moment when he achieves his egohood, at the point of time to which later his memory extends.
If you ponder this; if you ponder what it would mean if all the connections with the macrocosm were to meet in one man; if everything that approached him in a vague, uncertain way in his early childhood streamed into him, but could not really dawn in him because the evolved ego was not present, were you to carry this thought further and picture it dawning within a later consciousness, something would be formed in man, something would enter into him, which did not spring from a human source, but from the vast world-depths out of which we are born You would then have the interpretation of the words uttered in connection with the descent of the dove: — “This is my well beloved Son; this day have I begotten Him!” This means: Now is the Christ incarnated — “begotten” — in Jesus of Nazareth. Christ was actually born in Jesus of Nazareth at the moment of baptism in the Jordan. He then stood at the summit of that consciousness which otherwise man only enjoys in the early years of childhood, but He was aware at the same time of this union with the whole cosmos. A child would also have this feeling of union if it were aware of what it felt during those three early years. In this case other words heard at that time would acquire a different meaning: — “I and the Father (the cosmic Father) are one!”
When you allow all this to affect your souls you will be conscious of something within you that is like an echo of what Paul felt, the earliest initial element of that which came to him in the revelation of Damascus, and experienced in the beautiful words: — “Unless ye become as little children ye cannot enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.” This saying has manifold meanings, among others this: Paul said, “Not I, but Christ in me!” This means a being having the macrocosmic consciousness a child would have were it to experience the consciousness of its three early years along with that of a later day. In the normal man of today these two kinds of consciousness are separate; they must be separate, for they are not compatible. Neither were they in Jesus Christ. For after these three years death had necessarily to follow under such circumstances as occurred in Palestine. It was not by chance these occurred as they did, but because two factors lived in one being: the “Son of God” — which man is from the time of his birth until the development of his ego-consciousness; and the “Son of Man,” which he is after this ego-consciousness has been acquired. Through the union of the “Son of God” and the “Son of Man” all those events came to pass which later led to the Events of Palestine.



Thursday, December 3, 2015

Weave in Wisdom — Live in Glory — Strive in Virtue


Weave in Wisdom — Live in Glory — Strive in Virtue


Weave in Wisdom — Live in Glory — Strive in Virtue


Weave in Wisdom — Live in Glory — Strive in Virtue



All Shall Be Well



See I am God.


See I am in all things.


See I do all things.


See I never lift my hands off my own works, nor ever shall, without end.


See I lead every thing to the end I ordained for it from without beginning with the same might, wisdom, and love that I made it.


How should anything be amiss?






Source: Julian of Norwich, Revelation of Love, "The Third Showing"

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well." —Julian of Norwich 


“I see the path of progress for modern man in his occupation with his own self, with his inner being, as indicated by Rudolf Steiner.”  —T. S. Eliot





"We must first lose ourselves in order to find ourselves again out of ourselves."  — Rudolf Steiner


The conclusion to "Little Gidding" from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot:
. . . .
A symbol perfected in death.
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
By the purification of the motive
In the ground of our beseeching.

                        IV.

The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one dischage from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
     Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre—
     To be redeemed from fire by fire.

Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
     We only live, only suspire
     Consumed by either fire or fire.


                         V.

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home,
Taking its place to support the others,
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word exact without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together)
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.

With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.







The Greatest Honor

Rudolf Steiner

"The greatest honor we can give Almighty God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of his love."  — Julian of Norwich




"It is the highest and holiest of the paradoxes that the man who really knows he cannot pay his debt will be forever paying it. He will be for ever giving back what he cannot give back, and what he cannot be expected to give back. He will be always throwing things away into a bottomless pit of unfathomable thanks."  — G. K. Chesterton, St. Francis of Assisi




At-one-ment 


Washed in the Blood of the Lamb are We
Awash in a Sunburst Sea
You—Love—and I—Love—and Love Divine:
We are the Trinity

You—Love—and I—We are One-Two-Three
Twining Eternally
Two—Yes—and One—Yes—and also Three:
One Dual Trinity
Radiant Calvary
Ultimate Mystery


The two great streams of civilization: the inner path of Buddha and the outer path of Zarathustra; the Guardians of the Threshold

Background to the Gospel of Mark. Lecture 5.
Rudolf Steiner, Berlin, December 19, 1910:

In the last lecture I began by giving some idea of the nature and character of the Gospel according to Mark. I showed that when this Gospel is studied, something more can be gathered from it than from the other Gospels concerning the great laws both of human and cosmic development. One has to acknowledge that in what is indicated concerning the profundities of the Christian Mystery, an opportunity is here given us to enter perhaps most deeply into these mighty secrets.
I originally thought that it might be possible, in the course of this winter, to give intimate and important instructions concerning matters we have not heard as yet within our spiritual-scientific movement; or perhaps I should say concerning things that lie on the border of spiritual matters not as yet dealt with by us. But it has been necessary to abandon this scheme, for the simple reason that our Berlin Group has grown so enormously during recent weeks that it would not have been possible at present to bring to the understanding of its members all that I had intended to say.
It is necessary in the case of mathematics, for instance, or any other science, that preparation should he made for any special stage, and this is necessary to a still higher degree when we advance to the consideration of certain high spiritual matters. Therefore we shall leave to a later date the consideration of those parts of the Gospel of Mark which cannot be explained to so large a circle.
It is most necessary when a document like this Gospel is under consideration that we should clearly understand through what important factors the evolution of mankind has passed. I have always impressed on you — as a quite abstract and general truth — that in every age there have always been certain guides or leaders of men who, because they stood in a certain relationship to the Mysteries, to the spiritual supersensible world, were in a position to implant impulses in human evolution which contributed to its further progress. Now, there are two principal and essential methods by which men can come into relationship with supersensible worlds. The one is that to which I have referred when indicating certain features of the teaching of that great leader Zarathustra; and the other is one that comes before our souls when we study the special methods of the great Buddha. These two great teachers, Buddha and Zarathustra, differ very much as regards their whole method and manner of working.
We must realize that the entrance into that state which Buddha and Buddhism describe as being “under the Bodhi tree” is a symbolic expression for a certain mystic enhancement of consciousness, and opens a path by which the human ego can enter into its own being, its own deeper nature. This path, blazed by Buddha in such an outstanding way, is a descent of the ego into the abyss of its own human nature.
You will gain a more exact idea of what is meant by this if you recall that we have followed man through four stages of development, three of which are already concluded, and the fourth is that we are in at present. We have traced human development through the Saturn, Sun, and Moon evolutions; now it is passing through the Earth evolution.
We know these three stages correspond with the upbuilding of the physical, the etheric, and the astral natures of man; that now during earthly evolution we are at the stage corresponding to the development of the human ego, in so far as this can be developed as a member of man's being. We have described the human being from various points of view as an ego enclosed within three sheaths: an astral sheath corresponding to the Moon evolution, an etheric sheath corresponding to the Sun evolution, and a physical sheath corresponding to the Saturn evolution.
As normally developed today, man has no consciousness of his astral, etheric, and physical bodies; he really knows nothing of them. You will naturally say: But man is aware today of his physical body. This, however, is not the case. What ordinarily confronts him as the human physical body today is only illusion, maya. What he regards as the physical body is in reality the interblending  activity of the four members of his being: physical body, etheric body, astral body, and ego; and the result of this interplay, of these interblended activities, is what our eyes see and our hands grasp as man. If we really wish to see the physical body we must separate off three parts and retain one, as when analyzing a chemical compound formed of four substances; we must separate the ego, astral body, and etheric body, then the physical body remains. But this is not possible under present conditions of earthly existence. You might perhaps say this happens whenever a man dies. But this is not correct, for what a man leaves behind at death is not the human physical body but a corpse. The physical body cannot live when the laws present at death are active in it. These laws did not originally belong to the body, but are laws belonging to the external world. If you carry out these thoughts you must acknowledge that what is usually called man's body is a maya, an illusion, and what spiritual science calls the “physical body” is the combination, the result, within our mineral world of organic laws, which produces the physical body of man in the same way as the laws of crystallization produce quartz, or those of emerald crystallization produce emeralds. This physical body of man as it works in the physical mineral world is the true human body. What man knows of the world today is but the outcome of observation made by the senses. But observation as it is made by the senses can only be made by an organism in which an ego dwells. The present-day superficial method of observation states that animals perceive the external world, for example, in the same way as men do: through their senses. This is a most confused conception; people would be much astonished if they were shown, as must be done some day, the picture of the world formed by a horse, a dog, or any other animal. If a picture were made of what a horse or a dog sees around it, this would be very different from the picture of the world as seen by man. That the human senses perceive the world as they do is connected with the fact that the ego reaches out over the whole surrounding world and fills the sense organs — eyes, ears and so on — with the pictures it perceives. So that only an organism in which an ego dwells can have such a picture of the world as man has; and the human organism belongs to this picture and is part of it. We must therefore say: What is usually called the “physical body” of man is only the result of sense-observation, and not reality. When we speak of physical man and of the physical objects around him it is the ego, aided by the senses and the understanding connected with the brain, that regards the world. Hence man only knows those things over which his ego extends, to which his ego belongs. So soon as the ego is not present, the pictures the world presents to it are no longer there; this means the man is asleep. Then no pictures of the world surround him — he is unconscious.
Whenever you regard anything, at every moment, the ego is bound up with what you see. It is spread out over what you see so that you really know only the content of your ego. As normal human beings you know the content of your ego, but of that which belongs to your own nature, into which you enter each morning when you wake — of your astral body, etheric body, and physical body — you know nothing. The moment he awakes, the normal man of today sees nothing of his astral body. He would indeed be horrified if he did — that is, if he perceived the sum of the instincts, desires, and passions that have accumulated in him in the course of his repeated earthly lives. Man does not see these. He would not be able to endure the sight. When he does dip down into his own nature, into his physical, etheric, and astral bodies, his attention is at once deflected from this to the external world; he there beholds what beneficent Divine Beings spread over the surface of his sphere of vision, so that it is in no way possible for him to sink into his own inner nature.
We are correct therefore when in speaking of this in spiritual science we say: The moment a man awakes in the morning he enters through the door of his own being. But at this door stands a watcher, the “little guardian of the threshold.” He does not permit man to enter his own being, but directs him at once to the outer world. Each morning we meet this little guardian of the threshold, and anyone who on awakening enters his own nature consciously, learns to know him. In fact the mystic life consists in whether this little guardian of the threshold acts beneficently toward us, making us unaware of our own being, turning our ego aside so that we do not descend into it, or permitting us to pass through the door and enter into our own being. The mystic life enters through the door I have described, and this in Buddhism is called “sitting under the Bodhi tree.” This is nothing else than the descent of a man into his own being through the door that is ordinarily closed to him. What Buddha experienced in this descent is set before us in Buddhistic writings. Such things are no mere legends, but the reflections of profound truths experienced inwardly — truths concerning the soul. These experiences, in the language of Buddhism, are called “The Temptation of Buddha.”
Speaking of this, Buddha himself tells us how the beings he loved approached him at the moment when he entered mystically into his own inner being. He tells how they seemed to approach him bidding him to do this or that — for instance, to carry out false exercises so as to enter in a wrong way into his own being. We are even told that the form of his mother appeared to him — he beheld her in her spiritual substance — and she ordered him to begin a false askesis. Naturally this was not the real mother of Buddha. But his temptation consisted in this very fact, that in his first evolved vision he was confronted not by his real mother but by a mask or illusion. Buddha withstood this temptation. Then a host of demoniac forms appeared to him; these he describes as desires, telling how they corresponded to the sensation of hunger and thirst, or the instinct of pride, conceit, and arrogance. All these approached him — how? They approached him in so far as they were still within his own astral body, in so far as he had not overcome them at that great moment of his life when he sat under the Bodhi tree. Buddha shows us in a most wonderful way, in this temptation, how we feel all the forces and powers of our astral body, which are within us because we have made them ever worse and worse in the course of our development through succeeding incarnations. In spite of having risen so high, Buddha still sees them, and now at the final stage of his progress he has to overcome the last of these misleading forces of his astral body, which appear to him as demons.
What does a human personality find when through temptation it passes down through the realms of its astral body and etheric body into its physical body? That is, when it really gets to know these two members of human nature?
If we are to know this, we must realize that in the course of his descending incarnations on Earth, man has been in a position to injure his astral body very much, but has not been able to injure his etheric and physical bodies to the same extent. The astral body is deteriorated through the “egoism of human nature” — through greed, hate, selfishness, arrogance, and pride. Through all these, and through his lower desires, man injures his astral body. The greater part of the etheric body is so strong that however much a man may try to injure it he is unable to do so, for the etheric body resists injury. A man cannot descend so deeply into his own nature with his individual powers as to injure the etheric body or the physical body. It is only in the course of repeated incarnations that the faults he develops directly affect the physical and etheric bodies injuriously, and appear later as weaknesses and as dispositions to illness in the physical body. But a man cannot affect his physical body directly. If he cuts his finger, this is not brought about through the soul; neither is infection. In the course of his incarnations he has only become capable of affecting his astral body and a part of his etheric body; on his physical body he can only work indirectly, not directly. We can therefore say if a man descends into his etheric body on which he can still work directly, he sees in this region all the things connected with his former incarnations, so that the moment he dips clown into his own being he also dips into his earlier, more remote incarnations. Man can therefore find the way to his former incarnation by sinking down into his own being. If this plunging down into his own being is very intensive, very thorough and forceful, as was the case with Buddha, the insight into other incarnations goes further and further back.
Originally man was a spiritual being; the sheaths that envelop his spiritual nature only gathered around him at a later day. Man came forth from Spirit, and everything external has condensed, as it were, out of Spirit. So that in sinking down into his own being man enters into the Spirit of the world. This sinking down, this breaking through the sheaths of the physical body, is one path into the spiritual framework of the world.
In the information handed down to us concerning Buddha — and these are no mere legends — we learn of the different stages he attained in the passage through his own being, of which he says: “When I had got as far as to the attainment of illumination” — that is, when he felt himself to be a part of the spiritual world — “I beheld the spiritual world as a cloud spread out before me; but as yet I could not distinguish anything; I felt I was not as yet ready for this. Then I advanced a step further. There I no longer merely saw the spiritual world as a widespread cloud, but could distinguish separate forms, although I could not yet see what these forms were, for I was not yet sufficiently advanced. Again I rose a step higher: there I perceived not only separate beings, but I knew what kind  of beings they were.”
This continued so far that Buddha even beheld his own archetype, that which had passed down from generation to generation, and he saw it in its true connection with the spiritual world. This is one path, the mystic path, the path leading through a man's own being to the point where the boundaries are broken down beyond which lies the spiritual world. By following this path certain leaders of humanity attained what such individuals had to have in order that they could give the necessary impulse to the further development of mankind.
It is by quite another path that personalities such as the first Zarathustra for instance, attained what enabled them to become leaders of humanity. If you recall what I said about Buddha you will realize that in his former incarnations when he was a Bodhisattva he must have already risen through many stages. Through illumination — that which is known as “sitting under the Bodhi tree”— I described in the only way it can be described how an individual can gradually rise through his personal merit to heights whence he can behold the spiritual world.
If humanity had only had such leaders to look to, it could not possibly have advanced as it has. But it had also other leaders. Of these Zarathustra was one. (I am not speaking now of the “individuality” of Zarathustra, but of the personality of the original Zarathustra who taught concerning Ahura Mazdao.) In studying this personality in the parts of the world in which we find him, we must realize that at first no individuality was in him as had risen so high through his own merit as Buddha had done; but he had been set apart to be the bearer — the sheath, one might say — of a higher being, of a spiritual entity, who could not himself incarnate in the world but could only illuminate and work within a human form.
I have shown in my Rosicrucian Mystery Play, “The Portal of Initiation,” how when it is necessary for the further evolution of the world, a human being is inspired at certain times by some higher being. This is not intended as a mere poetic image, but is an occult truth presented poetically. The personality of the original Zarathustra was no such highly evolved being as the Buddha, but was chosen as one into whom a high individuality could enter, could dwell, and inspire him. Such persons were mainly found in olden times — that is, in pre-Christian times — in the civilizations that evolved in Northwestern Europe and Mid-Western Asia, but not among the peoples that in pre-Christian times evolved in Africa, Arabia, and the districts of Asia Minor extending eastward into Asia. In these countries that kind of initiation was found which I have just described in its highest development as that of Buddha; while the other I am now about to describe as that of Zarathustra was more suited to northern peoples. The possibility of anyone being initiated in this way has only existed, even in our part of the world, for the last three or four thousand years. The personality of Zarathustra was selected somewhat in the following way to be the bearer of a higher being who could not himself incarnate. It was ordained from the spiritual worlds that a spiritual being should enter into some child, and when the child had grown up, should work within this human being, making use of the instruments of his brain, his will, etc. In order that this might take place, something quite different had to happen than would otherwise happen in the individual evolution of this human being. Now, the events I am about to describe did not happen in any such physical way throughout the life of this highly evolved human being as they otherwise should; though, naturally, people who follow the life of such a child with ordinary perceptions do not observe this. But those who have higher perception see that there is conflict from the beginning between the soul-forces of this child and the outer world, that it is possessed of a will, of an impulsiveness, that is in apparent contradiction to all that goes on around it. The fate of this divine, spirit-filled personality is that it grows up as a stranger, that those about it have no idea, no feeling, by which they can rightly understand such a child. As a rule there are few — perhaps only one person — who is able to divine what is developing within this human being. Conflict with its surroundings is apt to develop, and then occurs (but not till later years) what I described as happening when dealing with the story of the temptation of Buddha, when a man descends into his own being.
In normal life a man's individuality is born in him by means of the “sheath-nature” he receives from his parents or his nation. This individuality is not always in entire harmony with its sheaths, and on this account such a man feels more or less dissatisfied with the way fate has treated him. But so heavy, so mighty a conflict as occurred in Zarathustra's case is not possible if a man's individuality develops as it does in ordinary life. When a child like Zarathustra is observed clairvoyantly it is seen that he has feelings, thoughts, and powers of will very different from the feelings, thoughts, and will-impulses developed by the people about him. We are shown (and indeed it is always to be seen, only nowadays people do not notice spiritual facts, but only physical facts) that the people around such a child know nothing of his nature. They feel, on the contrary, an instinctive hatred for him, no matter what may be developing within him. To clairvoyant vision the sharp contrast is revealed that such a child who is really born for the salvation of mankind is surrounded by storms of hatred.
This has to be. It is because of this contrast that great impulses are born into humanity. Similar things are then told concerning such personalities as are told of Zarathustra.
One thing we are told: that Zarathustra could do at birth that which otherwise only occurs weeks later. We are told he looked on the harmony of the world in such a way that he evolved his “Zarathustra smile.” This smile is described as the first thing which showed him to be quite different from the rest of mankind. The second thing is that there was an enemy, a kind of King Herod, in the neighborhood where Zarathustra was born. His name was Duranasarum, and after he had been informed of the birth of Zarathustra, which had been divulged to him by the Magi, the Chaldeans, he tried single-handed to murder the child. The legend goes on to tell how, at the moment he raised his sword to kill the child, his hand was paralyzed, and he was forced to let it go. These are pictures perceived by spiritual consciousness, pictures of spiritual realities. Further, we are told how this enemy of the child Zarathustra, unable himself to slay him, had him carried away by his servant to the wild beasts of the wilderness so that he might be devoured by them — but when people went to look for him, no wild beast had harmed him: the child was found sleeping peacefully. As this attempt failed, his enemy had the child placed where a whole herd of cows and oxen would pass over him and trample him to death. But the first beast, so we are told, took the child between its legs and bore it away, so that the rest of the herd might pass by; it then set him down uninjured. The same thing was repeated with a drove of horses. And the final attempt of this enemy was that he was given to some wild animals after their young had been taken from them. Now, it happened when his parents sent people to look for him, they found that none of these animals had harmed him, but as the legend relates: “the child Zarathustra was nourished for a considerable time by a heavenly cow.”
We need see no more in all this mass of evidence than that through the presence of the spiritual individuality that had been introduced into such a soul, very exceptional powers had been aroused in the child which brought it into disharmony with its surroundings, and that this was necessary in order that an upward impulse could be given to human evolution. For disharmonies are always necessary if true progress towards perfection is to be made. The nature of these forces is thus revealed: in spite of so great a being making use of such a child, they were required to bring it in touch with the spiritual world into which it was to enter. But how did the child experience this conflict? Picture to yourselves the entering of the soul into its own being at a moment of awaking. When the soul is able to experience the physical body and the etheric body, it then passes through the evolution I described in respect of Buddha. Now think of falling asleep as a conscious process. As things are today, man loses  consciousness when he falls asleep: instead of the ordinary pictures of the world, a blank surrounds him. But suppose that a man could retain his consciousness when falling asleep: he would in that case be surrounded by a spiritual world — the world into which he pours his being when sleep overtakes him. But here also there are hindrances. When we fall asleep, a guardian of the threshold stands before the door through which we would have to pass. This is the Great Guardian, who prevents our entrance into the spiritual world so long as we are unripe. He prevents our entrance because if we have not made ourselves inwardly strong enough, we are exposed to certain dangers when we allow our ego to pour forth over the spiritual world into which we enter when we fall asleep. The danger consists in this, that instead of seeing what is in the spiritual world objectively, we only see what we take there through our own fanciful imaginations, through our thoughts, perceptions, and feelings. In this case we take what is worst in us, what is not in accordance with truth. Hence an unripe entry into the spiritual world indicates that a man does not see reality but imaginary forms, fantastic images which are described technically in spiritual science as “non-human visions.” If a man would see objectively in the spiritual world he must rise to a higher stage where “human” things are seen. It is always a sign of a fantastic vision when animal forms are seen on rising to the spiritual world. Such animal forms represent the man's own fantasy, and are owing to his not being strongly enough established in himself. What is unconscious in us at night must be strengthened so that the surrounding spiritual world becomes objective; otherwise it is subjective, and we take our fantasies with us into the spiritual world. They are within us in any case; but the Guardian preserves us from seeing them. This rising into the spiritual world and being surrounded by animal forms which attack us and desire to lead us astray is a purely inward experience. We have only to encompass ourselves with greater inward strength: we can then enter the spiritual world.
When a child is filled by a higher being, as was the young Zarathustra, his bodily nature is naturally unripe, and has first to become ripe. The human organism — that is, the understanding and sense-organisms — is disturbed. Such a child is in a world which is rightly described as “being among wild animals.”
We have often shown that descriptions like this, which are both historical and pictorial, only represent different sides of the same matter. Events then happen so that spiritual powers, when represented as hostile forces, make their influence felt, as did King Duranasarum in the case of the child Zarathustra. The whole thing exists in its archetypal form in the spiritual world, and external happenings only correspond with what takes place there. Present-day methods of thought do not grasp such ideas easily. When people are told that the events connected with Zarathustra are of importance in the spiritual world, they think: “Then they are not real.” But when they are shown to be historical, the man of today is then inclined to regard everyone as only evolved so far as he is himself.
The endeavor of present-day liberal theologians, for instance, is to present the figure of Jesus of Nazareth as being similar to, or at least as not far surpassing, what they can picture to themselves as their own ideal. It disturbs the materialistic peace of their souls when they have to picture great individualities. There should not be anyone in the world, they think, so very much exalted above the modern Professor of Theology.
But when dealing with great events we are concerned with something that is at the same time both  historical and symbolic, so that the one does not exclude the other. Those who do not understand that external things indicate more than appears on the surface will not attain to the understanding of what is true and essential.
The soul of the young Zarathustra really passed through great dangers in his early years, but at the same time, as the legend tells, the heavenly cows stood at his side, helping and strengthening him.
We find similar things happening to all great founders of religions through all the regions of the Caspian Sea and even into Western Europe. We find people — without their having raised themselves through their own development — who are ensouled by a spiritual being so that they can become leaders of mankind. Numerous legends and sagas exist among Celtic peoples. They tell of a founder of religion, one Habich, he was exposed as a child and was nourished by heavenly cows; hostile forces appeared later on and drove away the animals — in short, the accounts of the dangers to the Celtic leader Habich are such that one can almost say they were extracts from certain of the miracles of Zarathustra. While we recognize Zarathustra as the greatest of these personalities, certain features of his miracles are found everywhere, all through Greece and as far as the Celtic countries of the West. As a well-known example we have only to think of the story of Romulus and Remus.
This is the other way in which the leaders of mankind arose. In speaking of it we have described, in a deeper sense, what we have often considered before: the two great streams of civilization of post-Atlantean times. After the great catastrophe of Atlantis, one of these streams continued to spread and develop throughout Africa, Arabia, and southern Asia; the other, which took a more northerly course, passed through Europe and northern and central Asia. Here these two streams eventually met. All that has come to pass as a result of this is comprised in our post-Atlantean culture. The northern stream had leaders such as I have just described in Zarathustra; the southern, on the other hand, those such as we see in their highest representative in the great Buddha.
If you recall what you already know in connection with the Christ Event, you might ask: How does the Baptism by John in the Jordan now strike us? The Christ came down and entered into a human being — as Divine Beings had entered into all the leaders and founders of religions — and into Zarathustra as the greatest of these. The process is the same, only here it is carried out in its sublimest form: Christ entered into a human being. But He did not enter this human being in childhood. He entered it in its thirtieth year, and the personality of Jesus of Nazareth had been very specially prepared for this event. The secrets of both sides of human leadership are given us in synthesis in the Gospels. Here we see them united and harmonized. While the evangelists Matthew and Luke, primarily, tell us how the human personality was organized into which the Christ entered, the Gospel according to Mark describes the nature of the Christ, tells of the kind of being he himself is. The element that filled this great individual is what is especially described by Mark. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke give us in a wonderfully clear manner a different account of the temptation from that given in the Gospel of Mark, because Mark describes the Christ who had entered into Jesus of Nazareth. Hence the story of the temptation has here to be presented as it occurred formerly in the childhood of such great persons: the presence of animals is mentioned, and the help received from spiritual powers. So that we have a repetition of the miracles of Zarathustra when the Gospel of Mark states in simple but imposing words:
“And immediately the Spirit driveth him into the wilderness (loneliness). And he was there in the wilderness with the wild beasts; and the angels (that is, spiritual beings) ministered unto him.” Mark I, 12-13.
The Gospel of Matthew describes this quite differently: it describes what we perceive to be somewhat like a repetition of the temptation of Buddha; this means, the form temptation assumes at the descent of a man into his own being, when all those temptations and seductions approach to which the human soul is liable.
We can therefore say the Gospels of Matthew and Luke describe the path the Christ traveled when He descended into the sheaths that had been given over to him by Jesus of Nazareth; and the Gospel according to Mark describes the kind of temptation Christ had to pass through when He experienced the shock of coming up against His surroundings, as happens to all founders of religions who are inspired and intuited by spiritual beings from above.
Christ Jesus experienced both these forms of temptation, whereas earlier leaders of mankind only experienced one of them. He united in Himself the two methods of entering the spiritual world; this is of the greatest importance: what formerly had occurred within two great streams of culture (into which smaller contributory streams also entered) was now united into one.
It is when regarded from this standpoint that we first understand the apparent or real contradictions in the Gospels. Mark had been initiated into such mysteries as enabled him to describe the temptation as we find it in his Gospel: the “being with wild beasts,” and the ministration of spiritual beings. Luke was initiated in another way. Each evangelist describes what he knows and is familiar with. Thus what we are told in the Gospels are the events of Palestine and the Mystery of Golgotha, but told from different sides.
In stating this I wish once more to put before you, from a point of view we have as yet not been able to discuss, how human evolution has to be understood; and also how we must understand the intervention into it of such individuals as are passing on from the evolution of a Bodhisattva to that of a Buddha. We have to understand that the main thing in the evolution of these men is not so much what they are as men, but what has come down into them from above. Only in the form of Christ are these two united, and it is only when we realize this that we can rightly understand this form. We can also understand through this the many inequalities that must appear in mythical personalities.
When we are told that certain spiritual beings have done this or that, in respect of what is right or wrong, and have done, for instance, what Siegfried did, one often hears people exclaim: “And yet he was an initiate!” But Siegfried's individual evolution does not come under consideration as regards a personality through whom a spiritual being is working. Siegfried may have faults. But what matters is that through him something had to be given to human evolution. For this a suitable personality had to be found. Everyone cannot be treated alike; Siegfried cannot be judged in the same way as a leader who belonged to the southern stream of culture, for the whole nature and type of those who sunk down within their own being was different. Thus one can say: A spiritual being entered the forms belonging to the northern culture, compelling them to transcend their own nature and rise into the Macrocosm. While in the southern stream of culture a man sank down into the Microcosm, in the northern stream of culture he poured himself forth into the Macrocosm, and by doing so he learnt to know all the spiritual hierarchies, as Zarathustra learnt to know the spiritual nature of the Sun.
The law contained herein can be summed up as follows: The path of the mystic, the path of Buddha, leads a man so far within his own inner being that, breaking through this inner being, he enters the spiritual world. The path of Zarathustra draws a man out of the Microcosm, sending his being forth over the Macrocosm so that its secrets become transparent to him. The world has as yet little understanding of the mighty spirits whose mission it is to reveal the secrets of the great universe. For this reason very little real understanding of the nature of Zarathustra has spread abroad, and we shall see how greatly what we have to say concerning him differs from what is usually said of him.
This lecture has again been an excursus concerning those things which should gradually reveal to you the nature of the Gospel according to St. Mark.

Be Patient


"The good effects that confidence can bring are driven away by impatience; the enlightenment that comes through confidence is darkened by impatience. Nothing is worse than letting impatience conjure up a mist before the soul."  — Rudolf Steiner



Wednesday, December 2, 2015

How should anything be amiss?



See I am God.


See I am in all things.


See I do all things.


See I never lift my hands off my own works, nor ever shall, without end.


See I lead every thing to the end I ordained for it from without beginning with the same might, wisdom, and love that I made it.


How should anything be amiss?








Source: Julian of Norwich, Revelation of Love, "The Third Showing"

Courage, the greatest of all virtues


"Courage is reckoned the greatest of all virtues; because, unless a man has that virtue, he has no security for preserving any other." —Samuel Johnson 


Joan of Arc

"To have courage for whatever comes in life — everything lies in that."  — Saint Teresa of Avila



Spirit Triumphant! Flame through the weakness of faltering, fainthearted souls! Burn up egoism, kindle compassion, so that selflessness, the lifestream of humanity, may flow as the wellspring of spiritual rebirth!  — Rudolf Steiner


Frederick Douglass
"It is not light that is needed, but fire."

Rudolf Steiner: "There will have to be a festival in honor of human courage, of the human manifestation of the courage of Michael. For what is it that holds man back today from spirit-knowledge? — Lack of soul courage, not to say soul cowardice. Man wants to receive everything passively, wants to set himself down in front of the world as if it were a movie, and wants to let the microscope and the telescope tell him everything. He does not want to temper the instrument of his own spirit, of his own soul, by activity. He does not care to be a follower of Michael. This requires inner courage. This inner courage must have its festival in Michaelmas. Then from the Festival of Courage, from the festival of the inwardly courageous human soul, there will ray out what will give the other festivals of the year also the right content." 





I bear within me peace;
Within myself I bear forces to make me strong.
With the warmth of these forces I shall be imbued.
With the power of my will I shall be filled.
And then I shall feel
How peacefulness pours through all my being
As I strengthen myself
To find peace as strength within myself
Through steadfast inner striving.



— Rudolf Steiner, Verse for the Esoteric School