Christ and the Spiritual World - The Search for the Holy Grail
GA 149
1 January 1914, Leipzig
Lecture V
I have spoken to you about the Sibyls, pointing out how they appear as shadows of the Greek philosophers in Ionia. Through centuries they conjured up from their chaotic soul-life a mixture of deep wisdom and sheer spiritual chaos, and they exerted much more influence on the spiritual life of Southern Europe and its neighbouring regions than external history is willing to recognise. I wanted to indicate that this peculiar outpouring from the souls of the Sibyls points to a certain power of the human soul which in ancient times, and even in the third post-Atlantean epoch, had some good significance. But as one culture-epoch succeeds another in the course of human history, changes occur. The forces which the Sibyls employed to produce, at times, sheer nonsense, were good, legitimate forces in the third post-Atlantean epoch, when Astrology was studied and the wisdom of the stars worked into the souls of men, harmonising the forces which later emerged chaotically as Sibyllism.
You can gather from this that forces which prevail anywhere in the world—including those which prevailed in the souls of the Sibyls—should never be called good or bad in themselves; it depends on when and where they appear. The forces that appeared in the souls of the Sibyls were good and legitimate, but they were not adapted to the fourth post-Atlantean epoch; for the forces that were then intended to prevail in human souls were not those that come from subconscious depths, but those that speak to the soul through the clarity of the Ego. Yesterday we heard how the Hebrew prophets strove to suppress the Sibylline forces and to bring out the forces that speak through the clarity of the Ego. This indeed was the essential characteristic of the old Hebrew school of prophecy—to press back the chaotic Sibylline forces and to bring out those which can speak through the Ego.
The fulfilment of this task given to the Hebrew prophets—we could call it a task of bringing the Sibylline forces into the right path of evolution—came about through the Christ Impulse. When the Christ Impulse entered into the evolution of humanity in the way known to us, one result was that the chaotic forces of the Sibyls were thrust back for a time, as when a stream disappears below ground and reappears later on. These forces were indeed to reappear in another form, a form purified by the Christ Impulse, after the Christ Impulse had entered into the aura of the earth. Just as in human life, after we have been using our soul-forces throughout the day, we have to let them sink into nightly unconsciousness, so that they may reawaken in the morning, so it was necessary that the Sibylline forces, legitimate as they had been during the third post-Atlantean epoch, should flow for a while below the surface, unnoticed, in order to reappear—slowly, as we shall hear.
The forces—legitimate human forces—which emerged so chaotically in the Sibyls were cleansed, so to speak, by the Christ Impulse, but then they sank below the surface of the soul. Human beings in their ordinary consciousness remained entirely unaware that the Christ continued to work on these forces; but so it was.
From the standpoint of Spiritual Science, it is a superb drama to watch this impact of the Christ Impulse; to see how, from the Council of Nicaea onwards, human beings in their normal consciousness quarrel ardently about dogmas, while what was most important for Christianity takes its course in the subconscious depths of the soul. The Christ Impulse does not work where there is strife, but below the surface, and human wisdom will have to uncover a great deal that we may think strange, if we look at it superficially. Much will have to be revealed as a symptom of the Christ Impulse working below the surface. Then we shall understand that essential developments in the historical configuration of Christianity in the West could not come about through the quarrels of Bishops, but sprang from decisions which were reached below the surface of the soul and rose into consciousness like dreams, so that men were aware only of these dreamlike apprehensions and could not discern what was going on in the depths. I will mention only one symptom of this. There are events that reflect, as though through dreams, the activity which the Christ was undertaking in the depths of the soul in order to bring human soul-forces into a right alignment with the course of Western history.
Many of you will perhaps guess something of what I mean if we observe that on October 28, 312, when Constantine the Great, the son of Constantine Chlorus, was making war against Maxentius on the outskirts of Rome, a decision was taken which proved to be of the highest importance for the configuration of Christianity throughout the West. This battle in front of Rome was not determined by military orders, or by the conscious acumen of the leaders, but by dreams and Sibylline omens! We are told—and this is the significant thing—that when Constantine was moving against the gates of Rome, Maxentius had a dream which said to him: “Do not remain in the place where you are now.” Under the influence of this dream, reinforced by an appeal to the Sibylline Books, Maxentius committed the greatest folly—looked at externally—that he could have committed. He left Rome and fought the battle—with an army four times the size of Constantine's—not within the protection of the walls of Rome, but outside them. For the message received from the Sibylline Books ran thus: “If you fight against Constantine outside the gates of Rome, you will destroy Rome's greatest enemy.” A truly oracular utterance! Maxentius obeyed it and with faith and courage went outside the gates. As on an earlier occasion another Sibylline oracle had guided Croesus, so was Maxentius guided by this one. He destroyed the enemy of Rome—himself.
Constantine had a different dream. It said to him: “Carry in front of your troops the monogram of Christ!” He did so and he won the battle. A decisive event for the configuration of Europe, brought about by dreams and Sibylline sayings! There we gain a glimpse of what was going on below the surface in the soul-life of Europe. Truly, like a stream which has disappeared into mountain cavities, so that it is no longer to be seen up above and one may form the strangest conjectures about it, so the Christ Impulse works on below the surface—works, at first, as occult, i.e. hidden, reality.
My dear friends, allow me at this point to confess to you that when in my occult researches I tried to follow this stream, I often lost trace of it; I had to search for places where it reappeared. I could suppose that the stream of the Christ Impulse had reappeared slowly, and that even today it has not fully reappeared but can only give evidence of itself. But where and how did it come to the surface? That is the question. Where did it lay hold of souls sufficiently to make an impression on their consciousness?
If you follow up the various expositions in my books and lecture-courses, and if you feel about it as I do, you will find, especially in the older ones, that what I have said in connection with the name of the Holy Grail is one of the least satisfying parts. That is how I feel and I hope that others have felt it too. It is not that I have said anything that could not be upheld, but simply that when I spoke of this, I felt unsatisfied. I had to give out what could be told with confidence, but often, when I tried to trace the further course of this stream—when I tried to unravel the further occult development of Christianity in the West—then before my soul rose the admonition: “You must first read the name of Parsifal in its right place.”
I had to experience the fact that occult researches are guided in a remarkable way. So that we may not be enticed into speculation, or into realms where we can very easily be borne away from occult truth on the wings of fantasy, we have to be guided slowly and by stages, if at last our research is to bring to light the truth which can of itself impart a kind of conviction of its rightness. So I often had to be content with waiting for an answer to the injunction: “Search out where the name of Parsifal stands!” I had quite understood something you all know from the Parsifal saga—after Parsifal returns, in a certain sense cured of his errors, and again finds the way to the Holy Grail, he is told that his name will appear shining upon the Holy Vessel. But where is the Holy Vessel—where is it to be found? That was the question.
In occult researches of this kind one is often held back, delayed, so that one may not do too much in a day or a year and be driven on to speculate about the truth. Landmarks appear. For me they appeared in the course of really a good many years, during which I sought an answer to the question—Where will you find the name of Parsifal written on the Holy Grail?
I knew that many meanings can be attached to the Holy Vessel in which the Host, the holy bread or wafer, is placed. And on the Holy Vessel itself “Parsifal” was to shine. I was aware also of the deep significance of a passage such as that in St. Mark's Gospel, Chapter 4, verses 11 and 12, 33 and 34, where we are told that the Lord often spoke in parables and only gradually clarified their meaning. In occult investigation, too, one is, led gradually, step by step, and very often only in connection with karmic guidance, and on encountering something that seems to have to do with a certain matter, one very often does not know what will be made of it in one's own soul under the influence of forces coming from the spiritual world. Often one does not know in the least whether something drawn from the depths of the occult world will have a bearing on some problem that one has been following up for years. Thus I did not know how to proceed when I once asked the Norwegian Folk Spirit, the Northern Folk Spirit, about Parsifal and he said: “Learn to understand the saying that through my powers there flowed into the northern Parsifal saga ‘Ganganda greida’”—“circulating cordial”, or something like that!1Another possible rendering is “journeying viaticum.” (See note at the end of the lectures.) I had no idea what to make of this. It was the same when I was coming out of St. Peter's in Rome under the strong impression made on me by Michelangelo's work that you find on the right-hand side as you enter—the Mother with Jesus, the Mother who looks so young, with Jesus dead already on her knees. And under the after-effect of looking at this work of art (this was a leading of the kind I mean), there came to me, not as a vision but as a true Imagination from the spiritual world, a picture which is inscribed in the Akashic record, showing how Parsifal, after he has gone away for the first time from the Castle of the Grail, where he had failed to ask about the mysteries which prevail there, meets in the forest a young woman who is holding her bridegroom in her lap and weeping over him. But I knew that whether it is the mother or the bride whose bridegroom is dead (Christ is often called the Bridegroom), the picture had a meaning, and that the connection thus established—without my having done anything about it—had a meaning also.
I could tell you of many indications of this kind that came to me during my search for an answer to the question: Where can I find the name of Parsifal inscribed on the Holy Grail? For it had to be there, as the saga itself tells us; and now we need to recall the most important features of the saga.
We know that Parsifal's mother, Herzeleide, bore him in great suffering and with dream-like visions of a quite peculiar character; we know that she wished to shield him from knightly exercises and the code of knightly virtue; that she arranged for the management of her property and withdrew into solitude. She wanted to bring up her child so that he would remain a stranger to the impulses that were certainly present in him; for he was not to be exposed to the dangers that had surrounded his father. But we know also that from an early age the child began to notice everything glorious in Nature; from his mother's teaching he really learnt nothing except that there was a ruling God, and he conceived a wish to serve this God. But he knew nothing of what this God was, and when one day he met some knights he took them for God and knelt before them. When he confessed to his mother that he had seen the knights and wanted to be a knight himself, she put on him a fool's garments and sent him forth. He met with many adventures, and later on—people may call this sentimental but it is of the deepest significance—the mother died of a broken heart because of her son's disappearance: he had not turned back to give her any farewell greeting but had gone forth to experience knightly adventures.
We know that after many wanderings, during which he learnt much about knightly ways and knightly honour, and distinguished himself, he came to the Castle of the Grail. On other occasions I have mentioned that the best literary account of Parsifal's arrival at the Castle is to be found in Chrestien de Troyes. There we are shown how, after often mistaking the way, Parsifal comes to a lonely place and finds two men: one is steering a little boat and the other is fishing from it. They direct him to the Fisher-King, and presently he encounters the Fisher-King in the Grail Castle. The Fisher-King is old and feeble and has to rest on a couch.
While conversing with Parsifal, the Fisher-King hands him a sword, a gift from his niece. Then there appears first in the room a page carrying a spear; the spear is bleeding and the blood runs down over the page's hand; and then a maiden with the Holy Grail, which is a kind of dish. But such glory streams forth from it that all the lights in the hall are outshone by the light of the Holy Grail, just as the stars are overpowered by the light of sun and moon. And then we learn how in the Holy Grail there is something with which the Fisher-King's aged father is nourished in a separate room. He has no need of the sumptuously appointed meal of which the Fisher-King and Parsifal partake. These two nourish themselves with earthly food. But each time a new course—as we should say nowadays—is served, the Holy Grail withdraws into the room of the Fisher-King's aged father, whose only nourishment comes from that which is within the Holy Grail.
Parsifal, to whom it had been intimated on his way from Gurnemanz that he ought not to ask too many questions, does not inquire why the lance bleeds or what the vessel of the Grail signifies—naturally he did not know their names. He then goes to bed for the night, in the same room (according to Chrestien de Troyes) where all this has happened. He was intending to ask questions in the morning, but when morning came he found the whole Castle empty—nobody was there. He called out for someone—nobody was there. He got dressed, and downstairs he found his horse ready. He thought the whole company had ridden out to hunt and wanted to ride after them in order to ask about the miracle of the Grail. But when he was crossing the drawbridge it rose up so quickly that his horse had to make a leap in order not to be thrown into the Castle moat. And he found no trace of the company he had encountered in the Castle on the previous day.
Then Chrestien de Troyes tells us how Parsifal rides on and in a lonely part of the wood comes upon a woman with her husband on her knees, and weeping for him. It is she, according to Chrestien de Troyes, who first indicates to him how he should have asked questions, so as to experience the effect of his questions on the great Mysteries that had been shown to him. We then hear that he went on, often wandering from the right road, until exactly on a Good Friday he came to a hermit, named Trevericent. The hermit tells him how he is being cursed because he has wasted the opportunity of bringing about something like a redemption for the Fisher-King by asking questions about the miracles in the castle. And then he is given many and various teachings.
Now when I tried to accompany Parsifal to the hermit, a saying was disclosed to me—a saying which in the words I have to use for it, in accordance with spiritual-scientific investigation, is nowhere recorded—but I am able to give you the full truth of it. It was spoken—and it made a deep impression on me—by the old hermit to Parsifal, after he had made him acquainted, as far as he could, with the Mystery of Golgotha, of which Parsifal knew little, although he had arrived there on a Good Friday. The old hermit then uttered this saying (I shall use words that are current among us today and are perfectly faithful to the sense of the utterance): “Think of what happened on the occasion of the Mystery of Golgotha! Raise your eyes to the Christ hanging on the Cross, at the moment when He said, ‘From this hour on, there is your mother’; and John left her not. But you”—said the old hermit to Parsifal—“you have left your mother, Herzeleide. It was on your account that she passed from this world.”
The complete connection was not understood by Parsifal, but the words were spoken with the spiritual intention that they should work in his soul as a picture, so that from this picture of John, who did not forsake his mother, he might discern the karmic debt he had incurred by his having deserted his own mother. This was to produce an after—effect in his soul.
We hear then that Parsifal stayed a short while longer with the hermit and then set out again to find the Holy Grail. And it so happens that he finds the Grail shortly or directly before the death of the old Amfortas, the Fisher-King. Then it is that the Knights of the Holy Grail, the Knights of that holy Order, come to him with the words: “Thy name shines in the Grail! Thou art the future Ruler, the King of the Grail, for thy name shines out from the holy Vessel!”
Parsifal becomes the Grail King. And so the name, Parsifal, stands on the holy, gold-gleaming Vessel, in which is the Host. It stands there.
And now, as my concern was to find the Vessel, I was at first misled by a certain circumstance. In occult research—I say this in all humility, with no wish to make an arrogant claim—it has always seemed to me necessary, when a serious problem is involved, to take account not only of what is given directly from occult sources, but also of what external research has brought to light. And in following up a problem it seems to me specially good to make a really conscientious study of what external scholarship has to say, so that one keeps one's feet on the earth and does not get lost in cloud-cuckoo-land. But in the present instance it was exoteric scholarship (this was some time ago) that led me astray. For I gathered from it that when Wolfram von Eschenbach began to write his Parsifal poem, he had—according to his own statement—made use of Chrestien de Troyes and of a certain Kyot. External research has never been able to trace this Kyot and regards him as having been invented by Wolfram von Eschenbach, as though Wolfram von Eschenbach had wanted to attribute to a further source his own extensive additions to Chrestien de Troyes. Exoteric learning is prepared to admit, at most, that Kyot was a copyist of the works of Chrestien de Troyes, and that Wolfram von Eschenbach had put the whole thing together in a rather fanciful way.
So you see in what direction external research goes. It is bound to draw one away, more or less, from the path that leads to Kyot. At the same time, when I had been to a certain extent led astray by external research, something else was borne in upon me (this was another of the karmic readings). I have often spoken of it—in my book Occult Science and in lecture-courses—and should now like to put it as follows.
The first three post-Atlantean epochs, which occur before the Mystery of Golgotha, reappear in a certain sense after the fourth epoch, so that the third epoch reappears in our epoch, the fifth; the second epoch will recur in the sixth, and the first epoch, the epoch of the Holy Rishis, will recur in the seventh, as I have often described. It became clearer and clearer to me—as the outcome of many years of research—that in our epoch there is really something like a resurrection of the Astrology of the third epoch, but permeated now with the Christ Impulse. Today we must search among the stars in a way different from the old ways, but the stellar script must once more become something that speaks to us. And now observe—these thoughts about a revival of the stellar script linked themselves in a remarkable way to the secret of Parsifal, so that I could no longer avoid the belief that the two were connected with each other. And then a picture rose before my soul: a picture shown to me while I was trying to accompany Parsifal in the spirit on his way back to the Grail Castle after his meeting with the hermit Trevericent. This meeting with the hermit is recounted by Chrestien de Troyes in a particularly beautiful and touching way. I should like to read you a little of this, telling how Parsifal comes to the hermit:
Er gibt dem Ross den Lauf
Und seufst aus tiefstem Herzen auf.
Weil er vor Gott sich schuldig fühlt
Und Reue in der Brust ihm wühlt.
Mit Weinen kommt er durch den Wald,
Doch vor der Klause macht er halt,
Steigt ab von seinem Pferde,
Legt seine Wehr zur Erde—
Und fand in einem Kirchlein klein
Den frommen Mann. In seiner Pein
Er vor ihm auf die Knie sinkt,
Das Nass, das ihm vom Auge blinkt,
Rollt endlos nieder auf sein Kinn,
Als er in kindlich schlichtem Sinn
Die Hände vor ihm faltet.
“Der Ihr des Trostes waltet,
Mein reuiges Geständnis hört:
Fünf Jahre war ich wahnbetört,
Dass ohne Glauben ich gelebt
Und nach dem Bösen nur gestrebt.”
“Sag mir, warum du das getan
Und bitte Gott, dass er dich nah'n
Dereinst noch lässt der Sel'gen Schar.”
“Beim Fischerkönig einst ich war;
Ich sah den Speer, auf dessen Stahl
Es blutig tropft. Ich sah den Gral
Und unterliess die Frage.
Was dieses Blut besage,
Und was der Gral bedeute.
Seit diesem Tag bis heute
War ich in schwere Seelennot.
Weit besser ware mir der Tod!
Und da vergass ich unsern Herrn
Und blieb von seiner Gnade fern.”
“So sage mir, wie man dich nennt.”
“Als Perceval man mich erkennt.”
Da seufzt der Greis aus tiefster Brust,
Der Name ist ihm wohl bewusst.
Er spricht: “Dem Leid hat dich vermählt,
Was ohne Wissen du gefehlt.”[Quoted from Eduard Wechssler's
Die Sage vom Heiligen Gral
(Halle, 1898).]He roused the steed to start
And sighed from out his deepest heart,
For guilt to God doth rack his breast,
Remorseful feelings give no rest.
With weeping comes he through the wood
Yet halts where hermitage has stood.
Makes ready to dismount,
Lays weapons on the ground—
And finds within a chapel cell
The pious man. ’Fore him he fell
Upon his knees in woeful plight,
The tear that blinked before his sight
Now rolls at last down to his chin
As he with simple childlike mien
Doth fold his hands together
That he may solace gather.
“Hear ye my sad confession:
Five years I bore delusion
While without faith my life I led
And only strove towards the bad.”
“Say me wherefore thou this hast done
And pray to God that He ere long
Will draw thee near the holy Bond.”
“I once by Fisher-King did stand.
I saw the spear upon whose steel
Hung drops of blood. I saw the Grail
Yet did forbear to put the word
What signified this blood,
This Grail, what signified—
’Twere better had I died!”
Until this day indeed
My soul's in direst need.
Our Lord I thought of never more
And from His Grace I stayed afar.”
“Now tell me what thy name may be.”
“As Parsifal men speak of me.”
Then sighs the aged man with groan,
The name to him is full well-known.
“What thou unwittingly hast left undone
Has brought this sorrow as thy doom.”[Translation by M. Cotterell.]
Then come the conversations between Parsifal and the hermit of which I have spoken already. And when I sought to accompany Parsifal in spirit during his return to the Grail, it was often as though there shone forth in the soul how he traveled by day and by night, how he devoted himself to nature by day and to the stars by night, as if the stellar script had spoken to his unconscious self and as if this was a prophecy of that which the holy company of Knights who came from the Grail to meet him had said: “Thy name shines forth in radiance from the Grail.” But Parsifal, quite clearly, did not know what to make of the message of the stars, for it remained in his unconscious being, and therefore one cannot so very well interpret it, however much one may try to immerse oneself in it through spiritual research.
Then I tried once more to get back to Kyot, and behold—a particular thing said about him by Wolfram von Eschenbach made a deep impression on me and I felt I had to relate it to the ‘ganganda greida’. The connection seemed inevitable. I had to relate it also to the image of the woman holding her dead bridegroom on her lap. And then, when I was not in the least looking for it, I came upon a saying by Kyot: “er jach, ez hiez ein dinc der gral”—“he said, a thing was called the Grail.” Now exoteric research itself tells us how Kyot came to these words—“er jach, ez hiez ein dinc der gral.” He acquired a book by Flegetanis in Spain—an astrological book. No doubt about it, one may say: Kyot is the man who stimulated by Flegetanis—whom he calls Flegetanis and in whom lives a certain knowledge of the stellar script—Kyot is the man who, stimulated by this revived astrology, sees the thing called the Grail. Then I knew that Kyot is not to be given up; I knew that he discloses an important clue if one is searching in the sense of Spiritual Science: he at least has seen the Grail.
Where, then, is the Grail, which today must be found in such a way that the name of Parsifal stands upon it? Where can it be found? Now in the course of my researches it had been shown to me that the name—that is the first thing—must be sought for in the stellar script. And then, on a day which I must regard as specially significant for me, I was shown where the gold-gleaming vessel in its reality is to be found, so that through it—through its symbolical expression in the stellar script—we are led to the secret of the Grail. And then I saw in the stellar script something that anyone can see—only he will not immediately discern the secret. For one day, while I was following with inner sight the gold-gleaming sickle of the moon, as it appeared in the heavens, with the dark moon like a great disc dimly visible within it ... so that with physical sight one saw the gold-gleaming moon—ganganda greida, the journeying viaticum—and within it the large Host, the dark disc. This is not to be seen if one merely glances superficially at the moon, but it is evident if one looks closely—and there, in wonderful letters of the occult script, was the name Parsifal!
That, to begin with, was the stellar script. For in fact, if this reading of the stellar script is seen in the right light, it yields for our hearts and minds something—though perhaps not all—of the Parsifal secret, the secret of the Holy Grail. What I have still to say, briefly, on this subject I will give you tomorrow.
Fünfter Vortrag
Gesprochen habe ich Ihnen von den Kräften der Sibyllen, aufmerksam habe ich gemacht, daß wir diese Sibyllen wie den Schatten der griechischen Philosophen in Ionien auftauchen sehen, daß sie dann durch Jahrhunderte hindurch teilweise tiefe Weisheit aus ihrem chaotischen Seelenleben hervorzauberten, teilweise eben nur geistiges Chaos zutage förderten und daß sie durch Jahrhunderte hindurch viel mehr, als die äußere Geschichte das zugeben will, das Geistesleben gerade Südeuropas und der angrenzenden Gebiete beherrscht haben. Ich habe sagen wollen, daß mit dieser eigentümlichen Seelenäußerung der Sibyllen überhaupt hingedeutet ist auf eine gewisse Kraft der menschlichen Seele, die in älteren Zeiten, noch in der dritten nachatlantischen Kulturperiode, ihre gute Bedeutung hatte. Aber die Kulturperioden ändern sich im Laufe der geschichtlichen Entwickelung der Menschheit. Die Kräfte, mit denen die Sibyllen dann zeitweilig rechten Unsinn zutage gefördert haben, waren noch durchaus gerechte, gute Seelenkräfte in der dritten nachatlantischen Zeit, als Astrologie getrieben wurde, als die Sternenweisheit hereinwirkte in die menschlichen Seelen und als durch das Hereinwirken der Sternenweisheit harmonisiert wurden die Kräfte, die dann chaotisch im Sibyllentum zum Vorschein kamen. Daraus aber können Sie entnehmen, daß Kräfte, die überhaupt irgendwo in der Welt walten, zum Beispiel speziell jetzt die in den Seelen der Sibyllen waltenden, an sich niemals gut oder schlecht genannt werden können, sondern daß sie, je nachdem an welchem Ort und in welcher Zeit sie auftreten, gut oder schlecht sind. Es sind durchaus gute, berechtigte Kräfte, die in den Seelen der Sibyllen auftraten, nur waren sie für die Seelenentwickelung des vierten nachatlantischen Zeitraumes eben nicht geeignet. Da sollten nicht die Kräfte in den menschlichen Seelen walten, die aus unterbewußten Gründen heraufkamen, sondern die durch die Klarheit des Ich zu den Seelen sprachen. Gestern haben wir gehört, wie gleichsam auf die Unterdrückung der Sibyllenkräfte und auf die Heraufarbeitung der Kräfte, die durch die Klarheit des Ich sprechen, die althebräischen Propheten hinarbeiteten, ja, daß es gerade das wesentliche Charakteristikum des althebräischen Prophetentums ist, die chaotischen Sibyllenkräfte zurückzudrängen und dasjenige heraufzubringen, was durch das Ich sprechen kann.
Die Erfüllung dessen, was da die althebräischen Propheten anstrebten, was wir also bezeichnen können als eine Art «Ins-richtigeGeleise-Bringen» der Sibyllenkräfte, die Erfüllung dieser Aufgabe kam durch den Christus-Impuls. Als der Christus-Impuls in der uns bekannten Weise einschlug in die irdische Menschheitsentwickelung, da handelte es sich darum, daß eine Zeitlang diese durch die Sibyllen in chaotischer Weise zutage tretenden Kräfte zurückgedrängt wurden, gleichsam wie ein Fluß zurückgedrängt wird von der Außenwelt, wenn er erst dahinfließt und dann in eine unterirdische Höhle verschwindet, um später wiederum an die Oberfläche zu treten. In einer anderen Form, in der durch den ChristusImpuls geläuterten Form, in der Form, die der Christus-Impuls, nachdem er in die Erdenaura eingeschlagen hatte, diesen Kräften geben konnte, sollten diese Kräfte wieder herauftauchen. Gerade so, wie wir unsere Seelenkräfte, nachdem wir sie erst einmal während eines Tages voll entwickelt haben, in das Unterbewußte der Nacht hineintauchen müssen, um dann wiederum aufzuwachen, so war es notwendig, daß diese Kräfte, die berechtigt waren in der dritten nachatlantischen Kulturperiode, gleichsam ein wenig unter der Oberfläche des Seelenlebens flossen, unbemerkbar, um dann wiederum aufzutauchen, langsam, wie wir dann hören werden, wiederum aufzutauchen. Wir werden also die Erscheinung vor uns haben, daß die Kräfte, die so chaotisch in den Sibyllen sich äußern und die berechtigte Menschenkräfte sind, vom Christus-Impuls gleichsam durchspült werden, aber daß sie in die Untergründe des Seelenlebens hinuntertauchen und daß die Menschheit in ihrem gewöhnlichen Bewußtsein nichts davon weiß, daß der Christus mit diesen Kräften in den Untergründen der Seele weiterarbeitet. Und so ist es in der Tat.
Es ist ein großartiges Schauspiel vom geisteswissenschaftlichen Standpunkt aus, das Einschlagen dieses Christus-Impulses zu beobachten, zu beobachten, wie sich, vom Konzil zu Nicäa an, die Menschen in ihrem Oberbewußtsein zanken über die Feststellung der Dogmen, wie sie eifern mit ihrem Bewußtsein und wie das Wichtigste für das Christentum in unterbewußten Seelengründen geschieht. Der Christus-Impuls arbeitet nicht da, wo gezankt wird, sondern in den Untergründen; und manches wird noch menschliche Weisheit enthüllen müssen, was uns, wenn wir es nur an der Oberfläche betrachten, vielleicht sonderbar erscheint. Manches wird noch enthüllt werden müssen, weil es wie ein Symptom der Arbeit des Christus-Impulses in den Untergründen des menschlichen Seelenlebens wirkt. So werden wir sehen oder begreifen, daß wichtigste Gestaltungen in bezug auf die Konfiguration der christlichen Strömung im Abendlande nicht geschehen können durch das, worüber sich die Bischöfe zanken, sondern daß wichtige historische Fragen durch Entscheidungen geschehen, die sich in den Untergründen des Seelenlebens abspielen und gleichsam wie Träume herauftauchen in das Bewußtsein; so daß die Menschen aus dem, was sie im Traum wahrnehmen, gleichsam sich nicht enträtseln können, was in den Tiefen geschieht. Und es gibt solche Dinge — ich will nur ein Symptom nennen —, wo wie durch Träume sich heraufspiegelt, was der Christus da unternimmt in den tiefen Seelengründen, um die menschlichen Seelenkräfte im Laufe der abendländischen Geschichtsentwickelung ins rechte Geleise zu bringen.
Vielleicht kann es doch manche Seele so berühren, daß sie etwas ahnt von dem, was ich eigentlich mit diesen Worten sagen will, wenn wir sehen, daß am 28. Oktober 312, als der Sohn des Constantins Chlorus, Konstantin der Große, gegen Maxentius vor Rom kämpft und eine Entscheidung herbeiführt, die für das ganze Abendland ungeheuer wichtig war in bezug auf die Konfiguration des Christentums, der Kampf und der Sieg in merkwürdiger Weise zustande kommen. Diese Schlacht, meine lieben Freunde, die vor Rom geschlagen wurde von Konstantin, dem Sohne des Constantius Chlorus, gegen seinen Gegner Maxentius, wurde nicht entschieden durch Armeebefehle, nicht durch den bewußten Scharfsinn der Anführer, sondern sie wurde entschieden durch Träume und sibyllinische Zeichen! Und bedeutsam wird uns erzählt von dieser Schlacht, die am 28. Oktober 312 stattfand, daß Maxentius, als Konstantin gegen die Tore Roms anrückte, einen Traum hatte. Der Traum sagte ihm —- er war noch innerhalb der Tore —: Bleibe nicht an demselben Ort, wo du bist! Maxentius beging unter dem Einfluß dieses Traumes, der noch verstärkt wurde dadurch, daß man in den Sibyllinischen Büchern über die Aussagen der Sibyllen nachforschte, die größte Torheit — äußerlich betrachtet —, die er machen konnte: Er verließ Rom und führte die Schlacht mit seinem Heere, das viermal stärker war als das des Konstantin, nicht im Schutze der Mauern Roms, sondern außerhalb derselben. Denn die Auskunft der Sibyllinischen Bücher lautete: Wenn du gegen Konstantin außerhalb der römischen Mauern kämpfen wirst, so wirst du den größten Feind Roms vernichten. — Das war so recht einer von diesen sibyllinischen Orakelsprüchen! Maxentius folgte ihm, und zwar mit Mut und Vertrauen, er ging hinaus vor die Tore Roms. So wie einstmals ein anderer sibyllinischer Orakelspruch den Krösus geführt hatte, so führte dieser den Maxentius. Er vernichtete den Feind Roms, sich selber, durch seine Unternehmung.
Konstantin hatte einen anderen Traum. Ihm sagte der Traum: Führe voran vor deinen Scharen — sie waren nicht so groß, sie waren viermal geringer als die des Maxentius — das Monogramm Christi! Und er ließ es voranführen und er erfocht den Sieg. Eine wichtige Entscheidung für die Konfiguration Europas, durch Träume und sibyllinische Aussprüche entschieden! Da schillert herauf, was in den Untergründen des Seelenlebens der europäischen Menschen geschieht. Wahrhaftig, wie ein Fluß, der in den Höhlungen der Berge verschwunden ist, so daß man ihn oben nicht sieht und oben das Sonderbarste vermuten kann, so strömt fort der Strom des ChristusImpulses in den Untergründen der Seelen der europäischen Menschen und wirkt, wirkt zunächst als okkulte Tatsache.
Meine lieben Freunde, lassen Sie mich hier an dieser Stelle das Geständnis machen, daß mir in meiner geisteswissenschaftlichen Forschung gerade beim Verfolgen dieser Strömung oftmals sozusagen sich die Spur verloren hat; denn ich mußte suchen, wo sie wieder erschien. Voraussetzen konnte ich, daß der Strom des Christus-Impulses nur langsam erscheint, daß er auch in unserer Zeit noch nicht vollständig erschienen ist, sondern sich nur zeigen kann. Aber wo erscheint er? Das war die Frage. Wie kommt er wieder herauf? Wie taucht er wieder herauf? Wo ergreift er zuerst Seelen so, daß sie beginnen, etwas davon in ihr Bewußtsein heraufzuheben? Wenn Sie, meine lieben Freunde, meine verschiedenen Auseinandersetzungen in Büchern und Zyklen verfolgen, und es geht Ihnen so wie mir mit diesen Auseinandersetzungen, dann werden Sie finden, daß namentlich in den älteren Teilen dieser Auseinandersetzungen zu dem Unbefriedigendsten das gehört, was ich im Zusammenhange mit dem Namen des heiligen Gral gesagt habe. Wie gesagt, mir geht es so, und ich hoffe, daß es auch anderen so gegangen ist. Nicht, als ob ich etwas gesagt hätte, was sich nicht aufrechterhalten ließe, aber gerade, wenn ich dieses aufstellte, so fühlte ich mich unbefriedigt. Ich mußte geben, was sicher gegeben werden kann; denn oftmals, wenn ich jene Strömung, von der ich jetzt gesprochen habe, in ihrem weiteren Fortschritt suchte, wenn ich suchte die weitere okkulte christliche Entwickelung des Abendlandes, dann trat mir vor die Seele die Mahnung: Du mußt erst den Namen des Parzival an seiner rechten Stelle lesen. Und erfahren mußte ich, meine lieben Freunde, daß okkulte Forschungen in einer merkwürdigen Weise geleitet werden. Damit wir nicht verlockt werden, ins Spekulieren zu kommen und uns in Gebiete zu begeben, wo sehr leicht mit der okkulten Wahrheit die Phantasie davonfliegen könnte, werden wir lange, ich möchte sagen, sachte geführt in bezug auf okkulte Forschung, wenn sie die Wahrheit zuletzt an den Tag befördern will, die uns durch sich selber eine Art Überzeugung von ihrer Richtigkeit beibringen kann. So mußte ich mich oftmals ergeben in das Warten mit der Antwort auf die Anforderung: Suche, wo der Name Parzival steht!
Ich hatte, meine lieben Freunde, wohl aufgenommen, was Sie ja alle kennen aus der Parzival-Sage, daß, nachdem Parzival zurückkommt, in einer gewissen Weise geheilt von seinen Irrtümern, und den Weg zum heiligen Gral wiederfindet, ihm da verkündet wird: auf der heiligen Schale wäre glänzend sein Name erschienen. — Er muß also auf dieser heiligen Schale stehen. Wo aber ist die heilige Schale, wo ist sie zu finden? — Das war die Frage. Man wird bei solchen okkulten Forschungen oftmals aufgehalten, so daß man, ich möchte sagen, an einem Tag, in einem Jahr, nicht zuviel tut, damit man nicht durch das Spekulieren über die Wahrheit hinausgetrieben wird: man wird aufgehalten. Marksteine treten auf. Und so sind mir Marksteine aufgetreten im Laufe der eigentlich recht vielen Jahre, in denen ich Antwort suchte auf die Frage: Wo findest du den Namen des Parzival auf der heiligen Schale geschrieben ?
Ich wußte, daß es mancherlei Bedeutungen gebe der heiligen Schale, in der die Hostie, das heißt also eine Scheibe, eine Oblate drinnen ist. Und auf der heiligen Schale selber sollte «Parzival» stehen. Ich wurde auch gewahr, wie tief bedeutsam eine solche Stelle ist wie die des Markus-Evangeliums im 4. Kapitel, Vers 11 und 12, 33 und 34, wo da gesagt wird, daß der Herr vieles gab in Gleichnissen und erst nach und nach die Gleichnisse deutete. Bei der okkulten Forschung wird man auch, und zwar oft nur in Anlehnung an das, wozu einen das Karma führt, ganz stufenweise und sachte geführt; und man weiß nicht, wenn einem etwas entgegentritt, das auf irgendeine Sache Bezug zu haben scheint, was unter dem Einfluß der Kräfte, die aus der spirituellen Welt kommen, einmal in der eigenen Seele aus einer solchen Sache gemacht werden soll. Man weiß oft nicht einmal, daß sich irgend etwas, was man bekommt aus den Tiefen der okkulten Welt heraus, auf irgendein Problem bezieht, das man jahrelang verfolgt. So wußte ich nichts Rechtes damit anzufangen, als ich den norwegischen Volksgeist, den nordischen Volksgeist einmal befragte über den Parzival und er sagte: Lerne verstehen das Wort, das durch meine Kraft geflossen ist in die nordische Parzivalsage: «Ganganda greida» — die herumlaufende Labung etwa — so ähnlich! Ich wußte nichts damit anzufangen. Und wiederum wußte ich nichts damit anzufangen, als ich einmal aus der römischen Peterskirche kam unter dem Eindruck jenes Michelangeloschen Werkes, das man gleich zur rechten Seite findet, der Mutter mit dem Jesus, der so jung noch aussehenden Mutter mit dem bereits toten Jesus im Schoße. Und unter der Nachwirkung — das ist eine solche Führung — des Anschauens dieses Kunstwerkes kam, nicht wie eine Vision, sondern wie eine wahre Imagination aus der geistigen Welt heraus, das Bild, das eingeschrieben ist in die Akasha-Chronik und das uns zeigt, wie Parzival, nachdem er zum erstenmal weggeht von der Gralsburg, wo er nicht gefragt hatte nach den Geheimnissen, die dort walten, im Walde auf eine junge Frau trifft, die den Bräutigam im Schoße hält und ihn beweint. Aber ich wußte, meine lieben Freunde, daß das Bild, ob es nun die Mutter ist oder die Braut, der der Bräutigam weggestorben ist — oftmals wird der Christus der Bräutigam genannt —, eine Bedeutung habe und daß der Zusammenhang, der sich wahrhaftig ohne mein Zutun hinstellte, eine Bedeutung habe.
Mancherlei solche Vorzeichen könnte ich Ihnen noch aufzählen, die sich mir ergeben haben bei meinem Suchen nach der Antwort auf die Frage: Wo steht der Name Parzival auf dem heiligen Gral geschrieben? Denn stehen mußte er darauf, das erzählt uns ja die Sage selber. Nun brauchen wir uns ja nur die allerwichtigsten Züge der Parzivalsage einmal zu vergegenwärtigen.
Wir wissen, daß Parzival geboren wird von seiner Mutter Herzeleide, nachdem der Vater hinweggezogen war, und daß ihn die Mutter unter großen Schmerzen und traumhaften Erscheinungen ganz eigenartig geboren hat. Wir wissen, daß sie ihn dann behüten wollte vor Ritterübung und Rittertugend, daß sie ihre Besitzungen verwalten ließ und sich in die Einsamkeit zurückzog, daß sie das Kind so auferziehen wollte, daß es ferne blieb von dem, was allerdings in ihm lebte; denn das Kind sollte nicht ausgesetzt sein den Gefahren, denen der Vater ausgesetzt gewesen war. Aber wir wissen auch, daß das Kind früh anfing, aufzusehen zu allem Herrlichen in der Natur, und daß es im Grunde genommen nichts durch die Erziehung seiner Mutter erfuhr, als daß ein Gott waltet, — daß das Kind dann die Tendenz bekam, diesem Gott zu dienen. Aber es wußte nichts von diesem Gott, und als es einmal Rittern begegnete, hielt es diese Ritter für Gott und fiel auf die Knie vor ihnen. Als dann das Kind der Mutter verrät, daß es Ritter gesehen habe und selber ein Ritter werden wolle, zieht ihm die Mutter Narrenkleider an und läßt es hinausziehen. Wir wissen, daß der Knabe hinauszieht, mancherlei Abenteuer besteht, und wissen, daß die Mutter später — was man sentimental nennen möchte, was aber tiefste Bedeutung hat — stirbt an gebrochenem Herzen über das Verschwinden ihres Sohnes, der nicht einmal ihr einen Abschiedsgruß, sich rückwendend, gegeben hat und hinauszog, um Ritter-Abenteuer zu erleben. Wir wissen, daß er auf mancherlei Wanderungen, auf denen er mancherlei erfahren hatte über Ritterwesen und Rittertugend und sich ausgezeichnet hatte, zur Burg des Grals kommt. Ich habe bei anderer Gelegenheit erwähnt, wie wir die literarisch noch beste Gestalt des Herankommens des Parzival an die Gralsburg bei Chrestien de Troyes finden, bei Christian von Troyes; wie uns da dargestellt wird, daß, nachdem er lange Irrfahrten bestanden hatte, Parzival in eine einsame Gegend kommt, wo er zunächst zwei Menschen findet: der eine rudert einen Kahn, der andere fischt vom Kahne aus; wie er dadurch, daß er die Leute fragt, gewiesen wird an den Fischerkönig; wie er den Fischerkönig in der Gralsburg dann trifft. Weiter dann, wie ihm der Fischerkönig, ein schon bejahrter Mann, der schwach geworden ist und sich daher auf dem Ruhebette halten muß, im Gespräch das Schwert, das ein Geschenk seiner Nichte war, überreicht. Wie dann im Saale zuerst ein Knappe erscheint, der einen Speer trägt, welcher blutet — das Blut läuft herab bis an die Hand des Knappen -, da erscheint eine Jungfrau mit dem heiligen Gral, der wie eine Art Schüssel ist. Solcher Glanz aber erstrahlt aus dem, was im Grale ist, daß alle Lichter des Saales überleuchtet werden von dem Lichte des heiligen Gral, wie von Sonne und Mond die Sterne überleuchtet werden. Und dann erfahren wir, wie in diesem heiligen Gral das ist, wovon sich der in einem besonderen Raum befindliche alte Vater des Fischerkönigs ernährt, der nichts bedarf von dem, was so reichlich aufgetragen wird bei der Mahlzeit, an der teilnehmen der Fischerkönig und auch Parzival. Von irdischen Nahrungsmitteln nähren sich diese. Jedesmal aber, wenn ein neuer Gang aufgetragen wird — wie wir heute sagen würden —, geht wiederum der heilige Gral vorbei in die Kammer des Vaters des Fischerkönigs, der alt ist und der nur Nahrung bekommt von dem, was in dem Gral ist. Parzival, dem auf dem Wege dahin von Gurnemanz bedeutet worden ist, daß er nicht zuviel fragen solle, fragt nicht, warum die Lanze blutet, fragt nicht, was die Schüssel des Gral bedeutet — den Namen wußte er natürlich nicht. Er wurde dann, und zwar — wie es bei Christian von Troyes heißt — in demselben Raum, in dem das alles stattgefunden hatte, für die Nacht gebettet. Er hatte sich vorgenommen, am nächsten Morgen zu fragen; aber da fand er das ganze Schloß leer, niemand war da. Er rief nach irgend jemandem. Niemand war da. Er kleidete sich selber an. Nur sein Pferd fand er unten bereit. Er glaubte, daß die Gesellschaft zur Jagd ausgeritten sei, und wollte nachreiten, um das Wunder des Gral zu erfragen. Aber als er über die Zugbrücke geritten war, schnellte diese so schnell hinauf, daß das Pferd springen mußte, um sich vor dem Sturz in den Graben der Burg zu retten. Und er fand nichts von der ganzen Gesellschaft, die er am Vortage gefunden hatte in der Burg. Dann erzählt Christian von Troyes, wie Parzival weiterreitet und in einsamer Waldgegend das Bild findet des Weibes mit dem Manne im Schoße, den sie beweint. Sie ist es, die zuerst ihm bedeutet, wie er hätte fragen sollen, wie er sich darum gebracht hat, die Wirkung seines Fragens um die großen Geheimnisse, die an ihn herangetreten sind, zu erleben. Wir wissen nach Christian von Troyes, daß er noch mancherlei Irrfahrten durchmachte und daß er gerade an einem Karfreitag zu einem Einsiedler kommt, der Trevericent heißt; wir wissen, daß er von diesem hingewiesen wird darauf, wie man seiner flucht, weil er versäumt hat, das herbeizuführen, was wie eine Erlösung für den Fischerkönig hätte wirken können: zu fragen nach den Wundern der Burg. Mancherlei Lehre empfängt er dann.
Nun enthüllte sich mir, als ich versuchte, Parzival zu seinem Einsiedler zu begleiten, ein Wort, das so, wie ich es auszusprechen habe nach den geisteswissenschaftlichen Forschungen, nirgends übermittelt ist, das ich aber glaube in völliger Wahrheit behaupten zu können. Ein Wort machte tiefen Eindruck auf mich, das der alte Einsiedler gesprochen hatte zu Parzival, nachdem er in Worten, in denen er es eben konnte, ihn aufmerksam gemacht hatte auf das Mysterium von Golgatha, von dem Parzival wenig wußte, trotzdem er an einem Karfreitag dahergekommen war. Da sprach der Alte ein Wort. Er sagte — ich spreche jetzt in Worten, die uns geläufig sind, die vollständig getreu nur dem Sinne nach sind —: Gedenke, was gelegentlich des Mysteriums von Golgatha geschehen ist! Lenke hinauf den Blick zu dem am Kreuz hängenden Christus, der zu Johannes das Wort sprach: «Von Stunde an ist das deine Mutter», — und Johannes verließ sie nicht. Du aber — so sagte der Alte zu Parzival —, du hast deine Mutter Herzeleide verlassen. Sie ging um deinetwillen aus der Welt! — Den völligen Zusammenhang verstand Parzival nicht, aber Worte waren es, die zu ihm gesprochen waren, ich möchte sagen, in der spirituellen Absicht, daß sie wirkten in seiner Seele wiederum als Bild, damit er den karmischen Ausgleich finde für das Verlassen der Mutter eben in dem Bilde des Johannes, der die Mutter nicht verläßt. Das sollte nachwirken in seiner Seele. Dann hören wir weiter, wie Parzival eine kurze Zeit bei dem Einsiedler verbleibt und wie er dann den Weg zum heiligen Gral wiederum sucht. Da ist es eben, daß er den Gral findet, kurz oder unmittelbar vor dem Tode des alten Amfortas, des Fischerkönigs. Dann ist es, daß ihm die Ritterschaft des heiligen Gral, die heilige Ritterschaft entgegenkommt mit den Worten: Dein Name erglänzt im Gral! Du bist der künftige Herrscher, der König des Gral, denn dein Name ist von der heiligen Schale erglänzend erschienen! — Parzival wird Gralskönig. Also es steht der Name Parzival auf der heiligen, goldglänzenden Schale, in der eine Hostie ist. Da steht er drauf.
Und nun, da es sich mir darum handelte, die Schale zu finden, da wurde ich zunächst irregeführt, durch einen gewissen Umstand irregeführt, meine lieben Freunde. Es ist — ich sage das in aller Bescheidenheit, nicht um irgendwie damit etwas Unbescheidenes auszudrücken —, es ist mir immer notwendig erschienen bei der okkulten Forschung, nicht nur zu berücksichtigen, was sich unmittelbar aus okkulten Quellen heraus ergibt, sondern, wenn es sich um ein ernstes Problem handelt, zu berücksichtigen das, was die äußere Forschung zutage gefördert hat. Und das ist überhaupt gut, so scheint es mir, wenn man nicht nachläßt, bei der Verfolgung eines Problems wirklich gewissenhaft alles das zu Rate zu ziehen, was die äußere Gelehrsamkeit zu sagen hat, damit man sozusagen auf der Erde bleibt, nicht ganz sich verliert im Wolkenkuckucksheim. Hier war es, daß diese exoterische Gelehrsamkeit mich irregeführt hat. Gerade durch das, was sie zutage gefördert hat, hat sie mich vom rechten Pfad zunächst — vor längerer Zeit eben schon — abgelenkt; denn aus dieser exoterischen Forschung konnte ich ersehen, daß Wolfram von Eschenbach, als er seinen Parzival — so sagt diese exoterische Forschung — anfing zu dichten, nach seinen eigenen Aussprüchen benutzt hat jenen Chrestien de Troyes und einen gewissen Kyot. Dieser Kyot ist von der äußeren exoterischen Forschung nicht aufzufinden, und sie hält ihn daher für eine Erfindung des Wolfram von Eschenbach, gleichsam als wenn Wolfram von Eschenbach für das viele, was er hinzufügt zu dem, was er in Chrestien de Troyes findet, noch eine andere Quelle hätte finden wollen. Höchstens das eine will die äußere Wissenschaft zugeben, daß dieser Kyot ein Abschreiber war der Werke Christians von Troyes und daß Wolfram von Eschenbach eben diese Sache dann in einer etwas phantasievollen Weise ausgebaut habe.
Sie sehen, wozu einen diese äußere Forschung führen muß. Sie muß einen dazu führen, mehr oder weniger abzusehen von dem Wege, der über jenen Kyot führt, denn er wird von der äußeren Forschung eigentlich als eine Erfindung des Wolfram von Eschenbach angesehen. In derselben Zeit — das sind wiederum solche karmischen Fügungen -, in der ich gewissermaßen da durch die äußere Forschung irregeführt worden war, trat etwas anderes an mich heran. Das, was da an mich herantrat, das möchte ich so ausdrükken — ich habe es ja öfter schon dargestellt in meiner «Geheimwissenschaft», in Zyklen und so weiter: Die nachatlantischen Epochen, sie tauchen so, wie sie sich abgewickelt haben vor dem Mysterium von Golgatha, vor dem vierten nachatlantischen Zeitraum, in einer gewissen Weise nach diesem Zeitraum wiederum auf. So daß in gewisser Weise der dritte nachatlantische Zeitraum zuerst in unserer fünften Kulturepoche wiederum auftaucht, der zweite wird uns in der sechsten, und der erste Zeitraum, derjenige der heiligen Rishis, wird in der siebenten Kulturperiode so auftauchen, wie ich das öfter dargestellt habe. Es zeigte sich mir nun — und das ist ein Forschungsergebnis vieler Jahre — immer klarer und klarer, daß wirklich in unserem Zeitraum sich so etwas herauflebt wie ein eben von dem Christus-Impuls durchzogenes Auferstehen der Astrologie des dritten nachatlantischen Zeitraumes. In anderer Weise zwar, als man dazumal in den Sternen geforscht hat, müssen wir heute in den Sternen forschen, aber die Sternenschrift muß uns wiederum etwas werden, was uns etwas sagt. Und siehe da, in einer merkwürdigen Art assoziierten sich, stellten sich zusammen dieser Gedanke von dem Wiederauftauchen der Sternenschrift und der von dem Geheimnis des Parzival. So daß ich nicht mehr umhin konnte, daran zu glauben, daß die beiden erwas miteinander zu tun haben. Da trat vor meine Seele, meine lieben Freunde, ein Bild. Das Bild ergab sich mir, als ich im Geiste zu begleiten versuchte Parzival, wie er von Trevericent wiederum nach der Gralsburg hinzieht. Gerade die Begegnung mit diesem Einsiedler wird uns von Christian von Troyes in einer schönen, herzergreifenden Weise dargestellt. Ich möchte Ihnen ein kleines Stück aus dieser Stelle zur Vorlesung bringen, wie Parzival hinkommt zum Einsiedler:
Er gibt dem Roß dahin den Lauf
Und seufzt aus tiefem Herzen auf,
Weil er vor Gott sich schuldig fühlt
Und Reue in der Brust ihm wühlet.
Mit Weinen kommt er durch den Wald,
Doch vor der Klause macht er halt,
Steigt ab von seinem Pferde,
Lest seine Wehr zur Erde —
Und findt in einem Kirchlein klein
Den frommen Mann. In seiner Pein
Er vor ihm auf die Knie sinkt,
Das Naß, das ihm vom Auge blinkt,
Rollt endlos nieder auf sein Kinn,
Als er in kindlich schlichtem Sinn
Die Hände vor ihm faltet.
«Der Ihr des Trostes waltet,
Mein reuiges Geständnis hört:
Fünf Jahre war ich wahnbetört,
Daß ohne Glauben ich gelebt
Und nach dem Bösen nur gestrebt.»
«Sag mir, warum du das getan,
Und bitte Gott, daß er dich nah’n
Dereinst noch läßt der Sel’gen Schar.»
«Beim Fischerkönig einst ich war;
Ich sah den Speer, von dessen Stahl
Es blutig tropft. Ich sah den Gral
Und unterließ die Frage,
Was dieses Blut besage,
Und was der Gral bedeute.
Seit diesem Tag bis heute
War ich in schwerer Seelennot.
Weit besser wäre mir der Tod!
Und da vergaß ich unsern Herrn
Und blieb von seiner Gnade fern.»
«So sage mir, wie man dich nennt.»
«Als Parzival man mich erkennt.»
Da seufzt der Greis aus tiefster Brust:
Der Name ist ihm wohl bewußt.
Er spricht: «Dem Leid hat dich vermählt,
Was ohne Wissen du gefehlt.»
Und dann entspinnen sich die Gespräche zwischen dem Klausner und dem Parzival, von denen ich gerade vorhin gesprochen habe. Und als ich dann zu begleiten versuchte im Geist den Parzival, als er nach dem Aufenthalt bei dem Klausner wieder zum Grale zog, da war es mir oftmals, als ob in der Seele aufglänzte, wie er dahinritt bei Tag und bei Nacht und wie er hingegeben war der Natur bei Tag und den Sternen bei Nacht, als ob in sein Unbewußtes hereingesprochen hätte die Sternenschrift und als ob diese Sternenschrift nur eine Vorherverkündigung wäre von dem, was ihm die heilige Ritterschaft, die ihm vom Gral entgegenkam, sagte: «Vom heiligen Gral erglänzt dein Name leuchtend.» Aber Parzival wußte offenbar nichts zu machen mit dem, was ihm aus den Sternen herunter erschien, denn es blieb in seinem Unbewußten, und daher kann man es auch nicht so recht deuten, wenn man auch noch so sehr versucht, durch geisteswissenschaftliche Forschung sich hineinzuvertiefen.
Dann versuchte ich noch einmal zurückzukommen auf den Kyot, und siehe da: Besonders eines, was Wolfram von Eschenbach von ihm sagt, machte einen tiefen Eindruck, und ich mußte es zusammenbringen mit dem «Ganganda greida». Es stellte sich selber zusammen. Ich mußte es auch zusammenbringen mit dem Bilde des Weibes, das den Bräutigam, den toten, im Schoße hält. Es war einmal, als ich, wie gar nicht suchend, auf dieses Wort stieß, das von Kyot gesagt wird. Das Wort heißt: «er jach, ez hiez ein dinc der grâl» — er sagte, ein Ding hieß der Gral. Und dann werden wir verwiesen durch die exoterische Forschung selber, wie er kam zu dem: er jach, ez hiez ein dinc der grâl. Er bekam ein Buch in die Hand von Flegetanis in Spanien. Das ist ein astrologisches Buch. Kein Zweifel, man darf sich sagen: Kyot ist sogar der, der angeregt durch den Flegetanis — einen, den er Flegetanis nennt und in dem gewissermaßen etwas auflebt von der Kenntnis der Sternenschrift —, angeregt also durch diese wiederauflebende Astrologie, das Ding sieht, das der Gral heißt. Jetzt wußte ich, daß der Kyot nicht aufzugeben ist, daß er gerade eine wichtige Spur erschließt, wenn man geisteswissenschaftlich forscht: daß er also wenigstens den Gral gesehen hat.
Wo also ist der Gral, der heute so gefunden werden muß, daß darauf steht der Name des Parzival, wo ist er zu finden? Nun, Sie sehen, im Verlaufe meiner Forschung hat sich mir ergeben, daß er in der Sternenschrift gesucht werden muß — zunächst der Name —. Und dann ergab es sich mir eines Tages, den ich als einen für mich besonders bedeutsamen ansehen muß, wo die goldglänzende Schüssel in ihrer Realität zu finden ist; zunächst so, daß wir durch sie — da, wo sie sich durch ihr Sternenschriftsymbolum ausdrückt — geführt werden auf das Geheimnis des Gral. Und da sah ich denn in der Sternenschrift dasjenige, was jeder sehen kann — nur findet er zunächst nicht das Geheimnis der Sache. Denn eines Tages erglänzte mir, als ich mit innerem Schauen verfolgte die goldglänzende Mondsichel, wenn sie am Himmel so erscheint, daß der dunkle Mond darin wie eine große Scheibe schwach sichtbar ist, so daß man schaut äußerlich-physisch den goldglänzenden Mond — Ganganda greida, die hinwandelnde Wegzehrung — und darin die große Hostie, die dunkle Scheibe, das, was man nicht sieht vom Monde, wenn man nur oberflächlich hinschaut, was man sieht, wenn man genauer hinschaut. Denn dann sieht man die dunkle Scheibe, und in wunderbaren Lettern der okkulten Schrift auf der Mondessichel — den Namen Parzival! Das, meine lieben Freunde, war zunächst die Sternenschrift. Denn in der Tat, im richtigen Licht gesehen, ergibt dieses Lesen der Sternenschrift für unser Herz und unseren Sinn etwas — wenn vielleicht auch noch nicht alles — von dem Parzival-Geheimnis, von dem Geheimnis des heiligen Gral. Was ich Ihnen darüber noch kurz anzudeuten habe, werde ich versuchen, Ihnen morgen zu sagen.
Fifth Lecture
I have spoken to you about the powers of the Sibyls, and I have pointed out that we see these Sibyls appearing like the shadows of the Greek philosophers in Ionia, that over the centuries they conjured up deep wisdom from their chaotic inner lives, sometimes revealing only spiritual chaos, and that over the centuries they dominated the spiritual life of southern Europe and the neighboring regions much more than external history is willing to admit. I wanted to say that this peculiar expression of the soul of the Sibyls points to a certain power of the human soul that had a positive meaning in earlier times, even in the third post-Atlantean cultural period. But cultural periods change in the course of the historical development of humanity. The forces with which the Sibyls temporarily brought forth utter nonsense were still entirely just, good soul forces in the third post-Atlantean period, when astrology was practiced, when the wisdom of the stars was working in human souls, and when the forces that then appeared chaotically in Sibyllism were harmonized through the influence of the wisdom of the stars. From this, however, you can see that forces that are at work anywhere in the world, for example, especially now those at work in the souls of the Sibyls, can never be called good or bad in themselves, but that they are good or bad depending on where and when they appear. The forces that appeared in the souls of the Sibyls were indeed good and justified, but they were simply not suitable for the soul development of the fourth post-Atlantean epoch. It was not the forces that arose from subconscious reasons that should have prevailed in human souls, but those that spoke to the souls through the clarity of the I. Yesterday we heard how the ancient Hebrew prophets worked toward suppressing the Sibylline forces and bringing forth the forces that speak through the clarity of the ego, and indeed that it is the essential characteristic of ancient Hebrew prophecy to repress the chaotic Sibylline forces and bring forth that which can speak through the ego.
The fulfillment of what the ancient Hebrew prophets strove for, what we can therefore describe as a kind of “bringing into the right channel” of the Sibylline forces, the fulfillment of this task came through the Christ impulse. When the Christ impulse struck earthly human development in the way we know, it was necessary for the forces that had been coming to light in a chaotic manner through the Sibyls to be pushed back for a time, just as a river is pushed back by the outside world when it first flows there and then disappears into an underground cave, only to reappear later on the surface. In another form, purified by the Christ impulse, in the form that the Christ impulse was able to give these forces after it had struck the earth's aura, these forces were to reappear. Just as we must plunge our soul forces into the subconscious of the night after we have fully developed them during the day in order to wake up again, so it was necessary that these forces, which were justified in the third post-Atlantean cultural period, flowed, as it were, a little beneath the surface of the soul life, unnoticed, in order to then emerge again, slowly, as we shall hear, to emerge again. We will therefore have before us the phenomenon that the forces that express themselves so chaotically in the Sibyls, and which are legitimate human forces, are, as it were, washed through by the Christ impulse, but that they sink down into the depths of the soul life, and that humanity in its ordinary consciousness knows nothing of the fact that Christ continues to work with these forces in the depths of the soul. And so it is indeed.
From the spiritual scientific point of view, it is a magnificent spectacle to observe the impact of this Christ impulse, to observe how, since the Council of Nicaea, people have been quarreling in their conscious minds about the formulation of dogmas, how they are zealous with their consciousness, and how the most important thing for Christianity is happening in the subconscious depths of the soul. The Christ impulse does not work where there is quarreling, but in the background; and human wisdom will still have to reveal many things that may seem strange to us if we only look at them on the surface. Many things will still have to be revealed because they appear to be symptoms of the work of the Christ impulse in the background of human soul life. Thus we will see or understand that the most important developments in relation to the configuration of the Christian current in the West cannot come about through what the bishops quarrel about, but that important historical questions are decided by decisions that take place in the depths of the soul life and emerge into consciousness like dreams, so that people cannot immediately understand what they perceive in their dreams, as if they cannot unravel what is happening in the depths. And there are such things — I will mention only one symptom — where, as if through dreams, what they perceive in their dreams reflects back and they cannot immediately understand what is happening in the depths. what they perceive in dreams, cannot, as it were, unravel what is happening in the depths. And there are such things—I will mention only one symptom—where, as if through dreams, what Christ is doing in the depths of the soul is reflected, in order to bring the human soul forces onto the right track in the course of Western historical development.
Perhaps it may touch some souls so deeply that they sense something of what I actually mean by these words when we see that on October 28, 312, when Constantine Chlorus, son of Constantine, Constantine the Great, against Maxentius before Rome and brought about a decision that was enormously important for the whole of the Western world in terms of the configuration of Christianity, the battle and the victory came about in a remarkable way. This battle, my dear friends, which was fought before Rome by Constantine, the son of Constantius Chlorus, against his opponent Maxentius, was not decided by army orders, nor by the conscious astuteness of the leaders, but it was decided by dreams and sibylline signs! And we are told something significant about this battle, which took place on October 28, 312, that Maxentius, when Constantine advanced against the gates of Rome, had a dream. The dream told him—he was still within the gates—"Do not stay where you are!” Under the influence of this dream, which was reinforced by research into the Sibylline Books about the statements of the Sibyls, Maxentius committed the greatest folly — outwardly speaking — that he could have done: he left Rome and fought the battle with his army, which was four times stronger than that of Constantine, not within the protection of the walls of Rome, but outside them. For the Sibylline Books said: “If you fight against Constantine outside the walls of Rome, you will destroy the greatest enemy of Rome.” This was truly one of those Sibylline oracles! Maxentius followed him with courage and confidence, and went out before the gates of Rome. Just as another Sibylline oracle had once led Croesus, so this one led Maxentius. He destroyed the enemy of Rome, himself, through his undertaking.
Constantine had another dream. The dream told him: Lead your troops—they were not so large, they were four times smaller than those of Maxentius—the monogram of Christ! And he had it carried before him and won the victory. An important decision for the configuration of Europe, decided by dreams and sibylline sayings! What is happening in the depths of the soul life of the European people is shining forth. Truly, like a river that has disappeared into the cavities of the mountains, so that one cannot see it above and can only suspect the most extraordinary things above, so the stream of the Christ impulse flows in the depths of the souls of the European people and works, works first as an occult fact.
My dear friends, let me confess here that in my spiritual scientific research, precisely in following this stream, I have often lost track of it, so to speak; for I had to search for where it reappeared. I could assume that the stream of the Christ impulse appears only slowly, that even in our time it has not yet fully appeared, but can only show itself. But where does it appear? That was the question. How does it come up again? How does it reappear? Where does it first take hold of souls so that they begin to raise something of it into their consciousness? If you, my dear friends, follow my various discussions in books and cycles, and if you feel the same way I do about these discussions, then you will find that, especially in the older parts of these discussions, one of the most unsatisfactory things is what I said in connection with the name of the Holy Grail. As I said, that is how I feel, and I hope that others have felt the same way. It is not that I said anything that cannot be upheld, but precisely when I put it forward, I felt unsatisfied. I had to give what could be given with certainty; for often, when I sought the further progress of the current I have just mentioned, when I sought the further occult Christian development of the West, the warning came to my soul: You must first read the name of Parzival in its right place. And I had to learn, my dear friends, that occult research is conducted in a remarkable way. So that we are not tempted to speculate and venture into areas where the occult truth could very easily give rise to flights of fancy, we are guided for a long time, I would say gently, in occult research, if it ultimately wants to bring to light the truth that can teach us a kind of conviction of its correctness through itself. Thus, I often had to resign myself to waiting for the answer to the request: Search where the name Parzival stands!
My dear friends, I had taken in what you all know from the Parzival legend, that after Parzival returns, healed in a certain way from his errors, and finds the way to the Holy Grail again, he is told that his name has appeared shining on the holy cup. — So his name must be on this holy cup. But where is the holy cup, where can it be found? That was the question. One is often held up in such occult research, so that, I would say, one does not do too much in a day or a year, lest one be driven beyond the truth by speculation: one is held up. Milestones appear. And so milestones appeared to me in the course of the many years in which I sought an answer to the question: Where can you find the name of Parzival written on the sacred bowl?
I knew that there were many meanings of the sacred bowl in which the host, that is, a disc, an oblate, is placed. And on the holy cup itself, “Parzival” should be written. I also became aware of how deeply significant a passage such as that in the Gospel of Mark, chapter 4, verses 11, 12, 33, and 34, is, where it is said that the Lord gave many things in parables and only gradually explained the parables. In occult research, one is also guided very gradually and gently, often only in accordance with what karma leads one to do, and one does not know when one encounters something that seems to have a connection to something else, what is to be made of such a thing in one's own soul under the influence of the forces coming from the spiritual world. Often one does not even know that something one receives from the depths of the occult world relates to a problem one has been pursuing for years. So I didn't know what to make of it when I once asked the Norwegian national spirit, the Nordic national spirit, about Parzival, and he said: Learn to understand the word that has flowed through my power into the Nordic Parzival legend: “Ganganda greida” — the wandering refreshment, something like that! I didn't know what to make of it. And again, I didn't know what to make of it when I once came out of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, under the impression of Michelangelo's work, which you find right on the right-hand side, the mother with Jesus, the mother who still looks so young with the already dead Jesus in her lap. And under the after-effect — that is such a guidance — of looking at this work of art, not as a vision, but as a true imagination from the spiritual world, the image that is inscribed in the Akashic Records and shows us how Parzival, after leaving the Grail Castle for the first time, where he had not asked about the secrets that reign there, meets a young woman in the forest who is holding her bridegroom in her lap and weeping over him. But I knew, my dear friends, that the image, whether it was the mother or the bride whose bridegroom had died—Christ is often called the bridegroom—had a meaning, and that the connection, which truly arose without my intervention, had a meaning.
I could list many such signs that came to me in my search for the answer to the question: Where is the name Parzival written on the Holy Grail? For it had to be written there, as the legend itself tells us. Now we need only recall the most important features of the Parzival legend.
We know that Parzival was born to his mother Herzeleide after his father had moved away, and that his mother gave birth to him in great pain and dreamlike apparitions in a very peculiar way. We know that she then wanted to protect him from knightly exercises and knightly virtues, that she had her possessions administered and withdrew into solitude, that she wanted to raise the child in such a way that he remained far removed from what was actually living within him; for the child was not to be exposed to the dangers to which his father had been exposed. But we also know that the child began early to look up to everything glorious in nature, and that, basically, he learned nothing from his mother's upbringing except that a God rules — that the child then developed a tendency to serve this God. But he knew nothing about this God, and when he once encountered knights, he took these knights for God and fell on his knees before them. When the child then tells his mother that he has seen knights and wants to become a knight himself, his mother dresses him in a fool's costume and sends him out. We know that the boy sets off, has many adventures, and we know that later—in what one might call a sentimental moment, but which has a profound meaning—his mother dies of a broken heart over the disappearance of her son, who did not even turn back to say goodbye before setting off to experience the adventures of a knight. We know that on his various wanderings, during which he learned much about knighthood and knightly virtues and distinguished himself, he comes to the castle of the Grail. I have mentioned on another occasion how we find the best literary description of Parzival's arrival at the Grail Castle in Chrestien de Troyes, in Christian von Troyes; how we are told that, after a long and wandering journey, Parzival comes to a lonely place where he first finds two people: one rowing a boat, the other fishing from the boat; how, by asking the people, he is directed to the Fisher King; how he then meets the Fisher King in the Grail Castle. Then, how the Fisher King, an elderly man who has grown weak and must therefore remain on his bed, hands him the sword that was a gift from his niece. Then a squire appears in the hall carrying a spear that is bleeding—the blood runs down to the squire's hand—and a maiden appears with the Holy Grail, which is like a kind of bowl. Such splendor shines from what is in the Grail that all the lights in the hall are outshone by the light of the Holy Grail, as the sun and moon outshine the stars. And then we learn how this Holy Grail contains the nourishment of the old father of the Fisher King, who lives in a special room and needs nothing of the abundant food served at the meal attended by the Fisher King and Parzival. They feed on earthly food. But every time a new course is served—as we would say today—the Holy Grail passes again into the chamber of the Fisher King's father, who is old and receives his nourishment only from what is in the Grail. Parzival, who had been told by Gurnemanz on the way there not to ask too many questions, does not ask why the lance bleeds, nor does he ask what the Grail bowl means — he did not know its name, of course. He was then, as Christian of Troyes tells us, laid down for the night in the same room where all this had taken place. He had decided to ask the next morning, but when he arrived, he found the entire castle empty; no one was there. He called out for someone, but no one answered. He dressed himself and found only his horse waiting below. He believed that the company had gone out hunting and wanted to follow them to inquire about the miracle of the Grail. But when he rode over the drawbridge, it sprang up so quickly that his horse had to jump to avoid falling into the moat. And he found nothing of the company he had found in the castle the day before. Christian of Troyes then tells how Parzival rides on and finds in a lonely forest the image of the woman with the man in her lap, whom she is mourning. It is she who first tells him how he should have asked how he had brought upon himself the effect of his questions about the great mysteries that had come to him. We know from Christian of Troyes that he underwent many more misadventures and that on Good Friday he came to a hermit named Trevericent; we know that Trevericent told him how to escape his curse, because he had failed to bring about what could have been a redemption for the Fisher King: to ask about the wonders of the castle. He then receives various teachings.
Now, as I tried to accompany Parzival to his hermit, a word was revealed to me which, as I have to pronounce it according to spiritual scientific research, is not transmitted anywhere, but which I believe I can assert in complete truth. A word made a deep impression on me, which the old hermit had spoken to Parzival after he had, in words he was able to use, made him aware of the mystery of Golgotha, of which Parzival knew little, even though he had arrived there on Good Friday. Then the old man spoke a word. He said—I am now using words that are familiar to us, which are completely faithful only to the meaning—: Remember what happened on the occasion of the mystery of Golgotha! Lift your gaze to Christ hanging on the cross, who said to John, “From this hour on, she is your mother,” and John did not leave her. But you, said the old man to Parzival, you have left your mother in heartache. She left the world for your sake! Parzival did not understand the complete connection, but these were words spoken to him, I would say, with the spiritual intention that they would work in his soul again as an image, so that he might find karmic compensation for leaving his mother in the image of John, who did not leave his mother. This was to have a lasting effect on his soul. We then hear how Parzival remains with the hermit for a short time and how he then seeks the way to the Holy Grail again. It is then that he finds the Grail, shortly before or immediately after the death of the old Amfortas, the Fisher King. Then the knights of the Holy Grail, the holy knighthood, come to meet him with the words: “Your name shines in the Grail! You are the future ruler, the King of the Grail, for your name has appeared shining from the holy chalice!” Parzival becomes King of the Grail. So the name Parzival is written on the holy, golden shining bowl in which there is a host. There it is written.
And now, when it came to finding the bowl, I was first led astray, led astray by a certain circumstance, my dear friends. It is — I say this in all modesty, not to express anything immodest — it has always seemed necessary to me in occult research not only to take into account what emerges directly from occult sources, but, when it comes to a serious problem, to take into account what external research has brought to light. And it seems to me that it is good not to slacken in the pursuit of a problem, but to consult conscientiously everything that external scholarship has to say, so that one remains, so to speak, on the ground and does not lose oneself completely in a cloud cuckoo land. It was here that this exoteric scholarship misled me. It was precisely through what it brought to light that it initially led me astray from the right path — quite some time ago, in fact — for from this exoteric research I could see that Wolfram von Eschenbach, when he began to write his Parzival — so says this exoteric research — used, according to his own statements, that Chrestien de Troyes and a certain Kyot. This Kyot cannot be found in external exoteric research, which therefore considers him to be an invention of Wolfram von Eschenbach, as if Wolfram von Eschenbach had wanted to find another source for the many things he added to what he found in Chrestien de Troyes. At most, external science is willing to admit that this Kyot was a copyist of the works of Christian de Troyes and that Wolfram von Eschenbach then expanded on this in a somewhat imaginative way.
You can see where this external research must lead. It must lead one to more or less abandon the path that leads via this Kyot, because he is actually regarded by external research as an invention of Wolfram von Eschenbach. At the same time — and this is again one of those karmic coincidences — when I was, so to speak, misled by external research, something else came to me. What came to me, I would like to express as follows — I have already described it several times in my “Secret Science,” in cycles and so on: The post-Atlantean epochs, as they unfolded before the Mystery of Golgotha, before the fourth post-Atlantean period, reappear in a certain way after this period. So that in a certain sense the third post-Atlantean period reappears first in our fifth cultural epoch, the second in the sixth, and the first period, that of the holy Rishis, will appear in the seventh cultural period, as I have often described. It became clearer and clearer to me — and this is the result of many years of research — that something like a resurrection of the astrology of the third post-Atlantean period, permeated by the Christ impulse, is indeed coming to life in our period. We must investigate the stars today in a different way than people did back then, but the writing of the stars must once again become something that tells us something. And lo and behold, in a remarkable way, this idea of the reappearance of the writing of the stars and the mystery of Parzival became associated with each other. So that I could no longer help believing that the two had something to do with each other. Then, my dear friends, an image appeared before my soul. The image came to me as I tried to accompany Parzival in spirit as he made his way from Trevericent back to the Grail Castle. It is precisely this encounter with the hermit that Christian of Troyes depicts in a beautiful, heart-rending manner. I would like to read you a short passage from this passage, describing how Parzival arrives at the hermit's dwelling:He lets his horse run free
“You who are the source of comfort,
And sighs deeply from his heart,
Because he feels guilty before God
And remorse gnaws at his heart.
He comes through the forest weeping,
But stops in front of the hermitage,
Dismounts from his horse,
Lays his armor on the ground —
And finds in a small church
The pious man. In his anguish
He sinks to his knees before him,
The tears that glisten in his eyes
Roll endlessly down his chin,
As he folds his hands before him
In childlike simplicity.
Hear my repentant confession:
For five years I was deluded,
That I lived without faith
And sought only evil.“
“Tell me why you did this,
And pray to God that he may let you join
The blessed multitude one day.”
“I was once with the fisher king;
I saw the spear, from whose steel
Dripping with blood. I saw the Grail
And refrained from asking
What this blood meant
And what the Grail signified.
From that day until now
I have been in deep distress.
Death would be far better for me!
And then I forgot our Lord
And remained far from his mercy.“
“So tell me, what is your name?”
“I am known as Parzival."
Then the old man sighed deeply:
He knew the name well. He said: ‘Suffering has married you to
What you lacked without knowing.’
And then the conversations between the hermit and Parzival unfold, which I mentioned just a moment ago. And when I then tried to accompany Parzival in my mind as he returned to the Grail after his stay with the hermit, it often seemed to me as if it shone in my soul as he rode along day and night, and how he was devoted to nature by day and to the stars by night, as if the writing of the stars had spoken to his unconscious, and as if this writing were only a foretelling of what the holy knights who came to meet him from the Grail said to him: “From the Holy Grail your name shines brightly.” But Parzival apparently did not know what to make of what appeared to him from the stars, for it remained in his unconscious, and therefore it is difficult to interpret, even if one tries very hard to delve into it through spiritual scientific research.
Then I tried once more to return to Kyot, and lo and behold: one thing in particular that Wolfram von Eschenbach says about him made a deep impression on me, and I had to connect it with the “Ganganda greida.” It came together on its own. I also had to connect it with the image of the woman holding the dead bridegroom in her lap. Once, when I was not looking for it at all, I came across this word spoken by Kyot. The word is: “er jach, ez hiez ein dinc der grâl” — he said, one thing was called the Grail. And then we are referred by exoteric research itself to how he came to this: er jach, ez hiez ein dinc der grâl. He got a book into his hands from Flegetanis in Spain. It is an astrological book. There is no doubt that one can say: Kyot is even the one who, inspired by Flegetanis — someone he calls Flegetanis and in whom, in a sense, something of the knowledge of the writing of the stars lives on — inspired, then, by this revived astrology, sees the thing called the Grail. Now I knew that Kyot was not to be given up, that he was uncovering an important clue in spiritual scientific research: that he had at least seen the Grail.
So where is the Grail that must be found today, bearing the name of Parzival? Where can it be found? Well, you see, in the course of my research, it became clear to me that it must be sought in the writing of the stars — first the name. And then one day, which I must regard as particularly significant for me, it became clear to me where the golden bowl can be found in reality; first of all, in such a way that through it — where it expresses itself through its star symbol — we are led to the secret of the Grail. And there I saw in the star script what everyone can see — only at first they do not find the secret of the matter. For one day, as I followed with my inner vision the golden crescent moon when it appears in the sky with the dark moon faintly visible within it like a large disc, so that one sees outwardly and physically the golden moon — Ganganda greida, the wandering viaticum — and within it the large host, the dark disc, that which cannot be seen of the moon when one looks only superficially, that which can be seen when one looks more closely. For then one sees the dark disc, and in wonderful letters of occult writing on the crescent moon — the name Parzival! That, my dear friends, was initially the star writing. For indeed, when seen in the right light, this reading of the star writing reveals to our hearts and minds something — if perhaps not yet everything — of the secret of Parzival, of the secret of the Holy Grail. What I have to say about this, I will try to tell you tomorrow.