Karma and reincarnation, that is a main theme in anthroposophy, and this theme actually brings back into modern times what in antiquity was still a matter of course—back into the West, I would like to say, because in the East, of course, this thought was always already there. But in the West, in Western views, it is naturally still something new—not entirely, but quite a bit. And the wonderful thing about Rudolf Steiner is that he does not ask us to simply believe that the human being is a reincarnating being with karma, but that he made the effort to try to clothe that which he himself perceived in his clairvoyant consciousness as a matter of course, as a truth, very clearly in thoughts for us, so that we do not have to believe, but so that we can think along with thoughts that it must indeed be so.
And that is something quite different. That is, for me, a kind of glory in anthroposophy, that the intelligent Western thinking—that which has become so incredibly abstract—comes to a possibility to mentally take in such deep esoteric truths, and then to believe through understanding. Not belief because one simply says: yes, it must be so—but belief because one has truly comprehended it fully through thinking. In lectures, Rudolf Steiner often assumed that the listeners were already long convinced of karma and reincarnation. And then one does not so easily find this kind of exposition that can bring us to believe through knowledge. But in his book Theosophy, he really made this attempt. And today I would like to try to more or less summarize the beginning of it, to retell it.
And I hope that over the course of time, we can work through the entire exposition piece by piece, although I probably will not have this theme every time now. But over time, I do imagine that we can consider together that karma and reincarnation exist, and that through this insight, we then also simply know that it is so. Rudolf Steiner begins by reminding us that we have sense perceptions. That is, when we stand in the world, our senses give us all kinds of impressions, and these sense impressions always take place in the present. When I turn around and no longer see the rose, then it also no longer makes impressions on my senses. And that is something I find incredibly important—that one is aware of that.
It seems like an open door being knocked down. But it’s not like that. We are perceiving people, but who asks themselves whether that is lasting when I have a sense perception? People say, yes of course, because I remember all these things. Yes, but that is not what is meant. It is the actual sensory impression one has when one stands opposite something with one’s senses. And then one can say: that really belongs to the perishable. The sense perceptions are not permanent, they are temporal, and that is only valid when I truly stand opposite an object. In contrast, there is a possibility to develop concepts. I might, for example, want to get to know the rose better and gather some insights. These can of course be external insights, such as knowing which family it belongs to, and so on.
But these can also be more spiritual insights. And thus one then has a very large picture in the concept of the rose. And this is permanent. Not because I can remember it, but I know: the concept has always been there. And I have the possibility, as a human being, to make myself familiar with the concept. And then I have the concept. And whether I now stand in front of a rose or not—the concept is enduring. And even when I will one day have died, then perhaps I no longer have this concept in the same sense as I now have it. But the concept continues to exist for others. That is a lasting phenomenon. And in between, there is the mental image we form from the sense impression and which continues to live on in us as a picture, and which we can bring into memory through our memory and retain. And yes, I naturally cannot do otherwise than say again everything that you can also read, but by saying it, I would like to encourage that one truly imagines it inwardly: that I as a human being, you as a human being, can carry sense impressions you have into memory through memory, and thereby a kind of communion with the world arises. The more images I have inscribed into my memory, the stronger the kinship, the connection with the outer world is. And that is truly something beautiful. I am not a machine that stands in the world without experiencing anything, but I take everything that is in the world into myself. I have a memory, which makes it possible that I can later, someday, recall again that which I have perceived today, what has come to me today, what I have experienced. That is actually how we live as humans with inner and outer.
And now comes something that is by no means an open door. One would not so easily come up with the idea to think this further in the opposite direction. And that is that we ask ourselves: I am not just a person of thought, I am also a person of action. I also do all kinds of things. And what I do does not remain only with me, but it changes the world. When I go into the garden and I sow plants and they later sprout, then my activity has been an activity that has changed the world. And thus one can trace back one’s actions. These are of course not only with the hands, but also with the mouth, for example. One can also say things that one must experience as an action, and what I say affects other people or animals or perhaps even plants, and through that which I say, the world changes. That is still quite clear, that it is so, although I think not many people are aware of that on a daily basis: that we humans are constantly changing the world. Even if we are very ordinary people, not known in politics or the wider world. Everything I do changes the world. And then comes this not-open-door, then comes this thought of Rudolf Steiner, which calls us to reflect—a question, really, which is not so easy to answer.
And I would like to say in advance: if you are watching this video, then you are probably a person who does not have a worldview that the world is a machine and that humans are living beings with feeling and reason, but that they are actually just wandering around in this machine, without it mattering to the world what I do in this machine. One could imagine that if I have a washing machine, it does not make much difference to this machine how I treat it—although even that might be questionable. But essentially, it is an apparatus that is indifferent. But in the rest of the world, there are of course many things of which one suspects that they too are something alive. For example: the stars, the planets, the atmosphere, the weather conditions. Is that all just physics, or can we imagine that that too is a living being?
If we can imagine that, then the next question becomes a very interesting one. And that is: could it not be that when a human being performs an action and thereby changes the world, that the world also has a memory? And that the world, through this memory, brings this deed into remembrance, and that at some point it might happen that the human being who committed this deed ends up in such circumstances where the world remembers the deed—and not only the deed, but also how it, the world, has changed. Yes, I find that—one may not say “brilliant,” it is far more than brilliant—a through- and further-thinking of that which the human being is as a being of knowledge and of action, a further thinking of that with regard to the world.
Of course, one must imagine with Rudolf Steiner that he truly clairvoyantly perceived such facts in the world. But he translates what he saw into questions that any person can follow, who does not immediately say: “what nonsense, because the world does not live, the world has no memory, and the world therefore also has no recollection—so it’s all foolish talk.” If one does not say that, and gives oneself the time to carry this question within oneself for a while, then this may be the most important question—and the answer comes later—the most important question one can have to bring clarity into the relationship between human being and world, if the human being is a being of action. A being of knowledge works the other way around: it comes from the outside and works inward. But action works from the inside outward, changes the world. And would the world not notice that? Not notice it in such a way that at some point there will be a reaction to it? With this question I would like to conclude today, and next time I will try to continue this line of thought, just as Rudolf Steiner suggests it in his book Theosophy.
