Throughout history from the Middle Ages to the present, an unbroken stream of hidden tradition has flowed in the West. This hidden tradition has branched out and taken many directions, although they all show a certain relationship with each other. One branch of this tradition, which is extremely characteristic of the western occult tradition as a whole, is the hidden current that usually calls itself "Templar."
The content of this Templar tradition transmitted through time contains a theory and a practice, but before one reaches the practical phase, it is necessary to have acquired at least part of the theory.
But now access to theory is not an easy matter; it is not openly exposed as a system of thoughts, but is hidden in an extensive symbolic system. This symbolic system is, in turn, stratified into four layers: first is the image; this then corresponds to a geometric figure; the figure in turn corresponds to a sound, or a letter of the Hebrew alphabet; and lastly, the sound corresponds to a number. So if we want to understand a symbol, we first immerse ourselves in a color image in which the color and shape is intended to express a hidden "configuration"; that is, a group of faces. Here we have to exercise all our capacity for clear discernment, all our inventiveness, in order to extract the content of the image. In principle the student should do it without help, but in reality it will be helped. It is intended, however, to limit this aid to a minimum. After we have penetrated to some extent the meaning of the image, we are thus introduced to the corresponding geometric figure that expresses the same "idea." After this - the most difficult part of the job - has already been accomplished, one learns a "letter" or a sound, and a "number". The process of penetrating these three levels must be carried out twenty-two times in order to learn the "alphabet."
After having mastered the "alphabet, " we then learn to "read, " which means ordering the letters and putting them together. Now the so-called "higher instruction" begins. It is as follows: when writing is learned, one receives a "book" to read; that is, then it is understood what the writing was made for. This book consists of fifty-six symbols that are arranged according to a certain system that corresponds to the way in which a man crosses four worlds.
Now these two stages of instruction - the stage of learning writing and reading the book - correspond to a practical teaching. This practical teaching is also divided here into degrees: lower and higher. Now the content of this teaching is the "magic" that is also divided into inferior or ceremonial magic and higher magic.
Ceremonial magic is used for two types of purposes. On the one hand it is used to affect external events through invisible forces, on the other hand, to receive answers to questions posed to the supersensitive kingdom. This last use is very characteristic. Through the realization of ceremonial magic, perceptible communications of the supersensitive are made. Here it is not that consciousness is elevated to an experience of the supersensitive, but rather, that the supersensitive is brought down and made sensory perceptible. Thus one is in a position to experience imaginations, even if these are imaginations that are made perceptible through the materialization in smoke or steam.
Higher magic is primarily focused on the use of the relationship of the four elements of man with the four elements outside of man. The forces of Man, Eagle, Lion, and Bull are set in motion by the human ego with the help of thought, feeling and will; in such a way that the appropriate effects on the objective elemental realm of "fire", "air", "water" and "earth" are caused.
Therefore we can characterize the essential aspects of the hidden Templar tradition in some way as follows: It is a great system of symbolism, containing within it a theoretical knowledge of the super-sensitive worlds and their laws m It is deep. This theoretical knowledge is applied in magic. The supersensitive worlds are not seen, rather they become known theoretically. But if one wishes to experience the reality of the supersensitive that corresponds to the theory, then one addresses the magic that, nevertheless, does not present the supersensitive itself, but only its effects. Although these effects are of such a kind that they allow us to feel the reality of the supersensible hidden behind them. In this way the teor a is confirmed by the experiment, which may well suffice for a typical European.
A typical Asian occultist would certainly reject, with a shrug, this method of making contact with the supersensitive realm (and really does). He addresses the supersensitive with demands quite different from those of the European. The European wants to know the supersensitive, but to know him in a way that is appropriate to his mental structure, that is, through the knowledge of the `` objective things '' outside himself, of the same so that the outside world is known to him through the senses and through scientific theory. He must have it before him as an object so that he can master it with his ego. The suprasensible cannot enter your ego as an overwhelming power, it can only enter into a theory. For with the theor a, the ego remains free. But the theory alone is too weak, it is not reality. Thus the reality of the supersensitive as a force is presented to him by magic, in this way he cannot flow directly into his ego as content.
The Asian, on the other hand, does not endeavor at all in an asptic and free objective knowledge. He also longs for a particular internal condition of his ego. What the European wants to avoid - penetration into the ego of the supersensible reality - the Asian yearns for it. He barely has any interest in objective things. He doesn't expect anything healthy from the outside. But there is, in the subjectivity of his ego, what for him is worthy of effort in the world. There, the reality of cosmic spirituality can be experienced in its content, as we said, from within. To rise outside your present to a state of superior existence in your inner life, that is your effort. For him, his goal is another internal condition. And the stream of Asian spiritual life (India), in which this attitude appears very clearly and on which it is philosophically founded, is the Vedanta stream.
The Vedanta current is in fact as characteristically representative of Eastern occultism as the modern Templar current is characteristically representative of Western occultism. She, too, is the bearer of a tradition. But this tradition, in its essential qualities, is very different from the western tradition that we have described. It is not a symbolism system that carries theoretical knowledge inside, but it is a "naked" theory, a logical system of abstract concepts. And as the student of the Western school must work his way through a system of symbols to be able to arrive at the theory, in the same way the Vedanta student must work his way through the logic of the enormously illuminating Vedanta system of thoughts.
Where the student comes through this work, and what it really consists of - this "working his way through" Vedanta - is in fact the requirement that he reach a simple synthesis, that is, that he begin with a plurality of thoughts and come to a thought at the end. This thought, as the final synthesis within which the entire philosophy of Vedanta is contained, is the well-known basic maxim: Atman and Brahman are one .
In this condensation of the complete system at one point, the student goes to Yoga, to practice. "Yoga is the quieting of the movement of thought formation" (Yoga citta vritti nirodha) as formulated in the monumental definition of Patanjali. From many thoughts we advance - through synthesis - to a thought, which we then abandon as well. This concentration in thought one, and then the consequent abandonment of this thought, is the practical Vedanta, Jnana Yoga . To facilitate this process, respiratory exercises are used (which in modern Vedanta are seen simply as a secondary aid). In addition, to help this let-go-thinking, mantrams are used; and the most "Vedantic" of such mantras is the syllable "om" (Aum). Thus, in spoken sounds, the aforementioned basic maxim of the essential identity between the internal and the external being is embraced. Although the concentration is carried further, moving towards the resonance - the soft reverberation in the heart - of the sound "m" with which the syllable "om" ends. Then comes a silence, a void. In this silence, in this emptiness, the inner sun of the self rises. This is experienced in an unspeakable ecstasy. This is Vedanta, the "end of knowledge", not as a theory, but as an experience. This experience has three qualities: it is an existence superior to the usual one; it is an experience of spiritual light in the greatest clarity; and it is an experience of the deepest ecstasy. Sat, Chit, Ananda, these are the states of thought, feeling and will for which you fight in the Vedanta current. Questions, suffering and desires merge like snow in the light of this state. The human being is at peace.
What is happening in the world and the concerns of humanity do not concern such a man. He doesn't care about magic, or science; for everything exists only so that we can reach this state of liberation. Swami Vivekananda, during the first half of the s. XX, the most important representative of the Vedanta current, once made a rather drastic, but extremely convincing, comment on this relationship with the world: “The world is like the curled tail of a dog, no matter how often one unscrews it, it always re-screwed again. ” For him the world is there only as a school for inner life. When one has learned from life what it can teach, one then turns his back. The world is there for humanity. The enlightened one has as little responsibility towards him as someone who wakes up in the morning has towards his nightly dreams.
While Western occultism strives to transform its theoretical knowledge of the spirit of the world into magical operations in the outside world; the enlightened Vedantist, in contrast to that, has nothing to do really with what "remains" of the outside world. Another difference, highly characteristic of the two currents, is that, while the Occidental has extensive theoretical knowledge of a multiple spiritual world with its nine hierarchies; the Oriental has the experience of a unified world of the Spiritual World, of Brahman, with whom one becomes. The Oriental experiences the spiritual world subjectively, he enjoys it greatly because he has knowledge of it. Thus it happens that this spiritual world is presented, as if we were saying, as a unit, while in reality it consists of a multitude of spiritual beings. Although the Occidental knows the spiritual world, because he does not experience it, his knowledge is merely theoretical.
The Anthroposophy of Rudolf Steiner is a spiritual cry that cannot be described as "Western" nor as "Oriental" in the sense of the above considerations, because what is characteristic of the Anthroposophical spiritual direction - which is evident in it, if I can say it like this - it is the effort towards a cognitive experience of the spiritual world. It is not simply a philosophy that leads to mysticism, nor simply a theory that leads to magic. It is rather a path to an experience of the spiritual world that is as real as the Vedantic experience, although it is as objective as the spiritual phenomena attracted in the material realm by the Western magician. The two paths that arise from theory - one towards mysticism and the other towards magic - are not followed here; but the theory itself, or more correctly the thought, is elevated to a higher level. Anthroposophy thus becomes mysticism and the magic of thought. Since the thought that creates images here obtains the force to ignore the images, it becomes a sensitive membrane for the revelations of the spiritual world. In Imagination, thought becomes magical, in Inspiration it becomes mystical. Although this "magic" is not a case of making things sensory perceptible, it happens rather within the spiritual world. And this new "mysticism" is not selfish, since it has freed itself from merely subjective experience - it is objective. In Anthroposophy, the selfishness of Eastern mysticism and the materialism of Western occultism are overcome. By these means the anthroposophical spiritual researcher can experience the multiple spiritual world, instead of the Vedantist world report. In this way he can learn to know this spiritual world as objectively and consciously as he knows the sensory world. Anthroposophy is the redemption of the materialism of Western occultism, and of the selfishness of Eastern mysticism. It satisfies the deepest inner longing of East and West.
It seems extremely important to me that the attitude that can flow through knowledge towards the importance of Anthroposophy for humanity should permeate more and more strongly the General Anthroposophical Society, especially those that publicly represent it. In that way a note of intimate, deep reconciliation would enter into the complete lifestyle of this Society, which could be a blessing not only for the dissemination of the Society in the East and in the West, but also as a highly enriching attitude for each individual. in his struggle to solve the riddles of life. Such a conciliatory attitude in no way contradicts the courage needed to remain a truth fighter against enemies (including "hidden" enemies) in the West and in the East. This should be obvious. Whoever has an open heart towards the spiritual movements outside him, will truly have an open eye also for the opposing forces within those movements. We should not fear deepening in strange spiritual currents with our whole being, because in this way one becomes an Anthroposophist.
The Resurrection as a process within the human organization
In very different ways, Rudolf Steiner has shown how the forces in action in the human organism present a vivid contradiction. Human organization, as such, is a contradiction made flesh; for the constructive and destructive forces are continually in conflict there. And this fight is - in itself - human life.
In Hegel's philosophical language we can say: In man there is that "place" in the world in which the thesis and the antithesis are adjacent to each other, and from this adjacency arises a process that strives towards synthesis. This synthesis does not exist yet; but the demand is inevitable because the contradiction is there. The human organism, as such, is far from being a solution to the problem, on the contrary, it is a concrete illustration of the problem. Through its own composition, the body has within itself demands for other conditions.
What we have expressed here abstractly can be made more vividly understandable through criticism: the human organism is the arena for vital processes and processes of consciousness. The vital processes are unconscious; The processes of consciousness have no life.
For me, my digestion activity is unconscious while my thinking activity is conscious. In addition, through my digestive process my organism develops, while through my thinking my organism breaks down. While I think a death process takes place in my body. An effect takes place that works against vital processes. Every process of consciousness means the conquest of vital forces in an area of the organism, in spite of how small it may be. Where vital forces are inhibited in such a way that an empty space is created in the organism, consciousness is illuminated.
Thus, a man, while living, remains within this contradiction: consciousness that brings death and a life that extinguishes consciousness. This contradiction between the light of consciousness and the darkness of life is described in a dramatic way at the beginning of the Gospel of St. John: "And the light shone in the darkness, and the darkness did not understand it" And all the words that follow of this Gospel contain a description of the solution to this contradiction of light and darkness.
The fact that the Gospel of St. John is oriented towards this contradiction is not surprising because its existence has the greatest moral importance possible. It is from this contradiction in the moral life that St. Paul said such passionate words in the Epistle to the Romans, stating that the darkness of man has vital power, while the light in man, although he makes evil visible in the darkness, lacks the power to defeat him. “The good that I would do, I do not do; but the evil that I would not do, I do ”said Paul, thus pointing to the archetypal problem of moral life; that is, the question: how can moral wisdom, once obtained, act with the same natural force with which instinctive impulses act? How can the power of good be added to the knowledge of good?
This question has been posed by all the men who have struggled: The Letters on Aesthetic Education of Schiller's Man, Goethe's Green Snake Tale, Dostoyevsky's complete play, drama. Four Apocalyptic Beasts, by Albert Steffen, all these works have as a central question: how can consciousness obtain the power of life, and how can life shine with the clarity of consciousness?
What does this question really mean? An answer can be found if we consider certain results of the anthroposophical investigation of man. According to this knowledge, man can be seen as a duality consisting of a part that is removed during sleep, and a part that remains lying in bed. During the dream a division happens: the self and the astral body separate from the etheric body and the physical body. Upon awakening, both sides come together in a unit once again. But the polarity between the two sides is not reconciled through this unification. On the contrary, it really obtains a more intense reality, since the processes of consciousness in the astral body arise against the vital processes of the etheric body. Thus within the awake man, the contradiction we have described above arises. And when now the struggling self of man has obtained moral knowledge in such a way that he "wants good", then this knowledge is there, shining brightly and illuminating the primordial independent vital current, which, nevertheless, follows its own path. What Paul meant by the tragic contradiction between the "law, " "the good that I would do, " and the power of evil in human nature, "the evil, that I would not do, " is an experience of the fact that the The human self can act in the astral body, but it does not have the power to substantially transform the etheric body and the physical body. The contradiction between the moral law that sheds its light on evil, thus making it visible, but is then incapable of overcoming it; and the elementary power of the dark impulses of evil, this is the contradiction transferred to the moral realm of the ego and the astral body on the one hand and the etheric body and the physical body on the other hand.
What, then, is what gives good, once seen, the power to be not only a process of consciousness, but also to become a vital process? What is this power, capable of transferring the moral qualities to the biological realm in such a way that it can act with a vital force? Or, in other words, what is it that can give the self the power to act not only on the astral body, but also more deeply, on the vital body; and even to the physical body?
The answer given by Paul is: Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is that power that can give strength to good in man, allowing him to act in that region of the human being in which life and death fight against each other. But this work of Jesus Christ should not be thought of as coming from outside, as the performance of natural forces. Although the power of Christ in man acts with elementary force, it does not act in the same way as natural forces, since it acts through the human self, while natural processes take place outside the human self. Natural processes impel the human being; The strength of Christ does not impede man, he acts without violating human freedom to the least degree.
In order to understand how this is possible, we have to imagine that the human self has a "front" and a "back." In front of the ego of man is displayed the whole world of appearances that the ego contemplates and also influences. Behind the ego of man there is a "background" that at first is unknown to him. From this "background" the ego receives impulses, just as from the foreground the perceptions are printed on the ego. The effects of nature come from the foreground, while the effects of the power stream of Christ from the other side of existence, come from the bottom. The current of power of Christ flows from the fundamental background of existence to the human self, fills it, and thus confers a force that it does not have on its own, that is, the force of bringing good, as an elementary force, to the Be of the world. This performance of the power of Christ, offered to the self of man as a gift, internally satisfying, leaving him free, was called by Paul "grace" (charis). Thus grace is a process through which the self in its effort towards good receives the strength to achieve more than it could with its own strength alone.
To make this act of grace possible, the self must open to it. The self must become permeable. This happens when the ego is active. A self that emanates forces, sending them forward, creates the possibility for an emission of forces from its bottom. An ego that closes selfishly to the outside world makes the acting of grace from above impossible. It is congested in itself.
This opening of oneself to the influence of grace acting on the self from the bottom, Paul called it "faith" (pistis). And contrasting "righteousness through faith" with "righteousness through works", he meant that "works" (actions that come from a human self and that does not flow through Christ) extends its essential influence only to the astral body. In physical and etheric bodies they operate only formally. On the other hand, the performance of "faith", that is, the power of Christ acting through the human self that has been opened to him, penetrates just to the most unfathomable depths of human corporality, not formally but essentially. And this "faith" is also contrasted by Paul with the "wisdom of this world." For the "wisdom of this world" is that what forces as given facts or natural law on the human being from the outside, from the foreground, while "faith" is a free act of the self, when opened to the influence of Christ. We could show the difference between "faith" and the "wisdom of this world" more clearly as follows. Nowhere is there a difference between the "wisdom of this world" (a busy consciousness affirming facts or reflecting on events) and "faith" (a consciousness creating something new from its own being, something that does not yet exist in the world); nowhere is there a difference between them as clearly as in the problem of the Resurrection. The "wisdom of this world" (the world of what is given) teaches that according to its laws each individual existence ends with death. However, the Resurrection is not something that can happen without human cooperation, and it cannot happen without "faith." It is the task of humanity for the future, whose fulfillment cannot be expected from the world, but only from the human self, through which the creative power of grace acts from top to bottom in the finished world of facts.
The Resurrection is the goal of the work of the human self on the organism. This organism is, as we tried to show above, a living contradiction. All consciousness unfolds in him on the basis of the processes of death; all life unfolds in him by pushing back consciousness. This organism, being so constituted, raises this question to the future: is it possible to develop a consciousness that does not produce death, and have a life that is conscious?
Now the effect of Christ's power on the human organism consists in this: that processes of consciousness begin that are at the same time vital processes. And what we call "Christianity" is neither a system of dogmas, nor rituals, but the coming to the existence of essentially new processes in the human organism that gradually tear the ground from the disintegrating processes of consciousness and from the constructive processes of life. Within the organism, where consciousness is only possible through death and life is only possible through unconsciousness, a new organism consisting of life-giving consciousness comes into existence. There, where the etheric body keeps mineral substances coherent penetrates the physical body, a new body emerges: the body of love. Love is that cosmic essence that internally unites consciousness and life in a unity. This body of love is still small and weak, it is barely noticeable behind the processes of mortal consciousness and unconscious life. But it will gradually grow and conquer more and more territory within the ordinary organism, the "ancient Adam."
Through the millennia, man will gradually form in the "new Adam, " the body of love, the body of Resurrection. It is happening, but not by itself. It requires the joint performance of "faith" and "grace" to the same extent that man freely opens himself to the power of Christ that then flows to him, thus reorganizing him in such a way that in the future a body will be his that It has been won to death.
Valentin Tomberg
Translated by Drafting Team
-> seen at: http://revistabiosofia.com
