When a being evolves, is it still the same being, or does it become something else? Does this also apply to a being like Michael? Might Michael appear today not with a spear but with a magic wand that animates matter.
Rudolf Steiner’s idea that “self-knowledge is rooted in world-knowledge; world-knowledge springs from self-knowledge”1 led me to ask the question: if I gain completely new knowledge or abilities, am I still myself, or do I become a different being? This would be hard to answer from a conceptual or imaginative perspective. We could respond that plants are in a constant process of development, but we always think of them as the same being—it is always the same plant. But in this case, I would say that the essence of the plant is “unfolding,” rather than “developing” or “evolving.” The only place where a glimmer of light appears in the darkness of this question is when we consider the act of hearing. When we hear a sound, we can sense if there is a living being behind it. When we hear the sound again, but an octave higher, we can sense that the same being lives there and is just expressing themselves from a new level (which is mathematically conditioned.) The knowledge of listening is the ear, or gateway, to inspiration. It leads to the larger, immaterial, and mathematical world.
Development of Being
Another example of the development of beings can be found in Rudolf Steiner’s last address, given on the eve of Michaelmas, 1924.2 It’s considered to be his legacy and at the same time an indication for the future Michaelic culture. Michael is a being who flows beneath the surface of human development, appearing and disappearing, and sometimes condensing strongly in a personality. An example is the chain of incarnations: Elijah–John–Raphael–Novalis, mentioned by Rudolf Steiner in his address. We find here two types of the appearance of Michael’s countenance: one before and around the time of Christ, the other in modern times. The willpower of Elijah, who opposed the wrong path and united the people, is Michaelic. John, before (with clear consciousness as the sheath of the higher) and after Christ (as one awakened by the higher and an opener of visions), is also Michaelic. In modern times, the age of the consciousness soul, it is as if the same entity, with a great longing for the perfect and eternal, transformed itself into Raphael and Novalis—something more feminine than masculine, more artistic than religious, and more ideal than earthly. Is there a reason for this?
When we consider the entire post-Atlantean cultural development, an idea arises. Our age is a reflection of the third post-Atlantean epoch, the Ancient Egyptian cultural epoch, whose motto was “as above, so below.” Their task was to realize and materialize the spiritual. Their fruits are the pyramids, materializations of sacred geometry, and hieroglyphs, materializations of sacred spoken language. But there is still something left to redeem, and this is to happen through our fifth post-Atlantean epoch. If we listen carefully, we can hear the mummies seeking to be revived and continuously calling out to us. One could say that the task of our age is “demummification,” an “ensouling” and spiritualization of the material, especially when we look at how far we’ve gone into materialistic intelligence over the last few hundred years. In this sense, Raphael and Novalis are beacons that show us the goal of this cultural epoch.
The Chinese Perspective
In Chinese culture, I discover another perspective. We have two major and important festivals that are not Christianized, as they are in many parts of the world. The first is the Spring Festival. It takes place when the new moon is closest to the beginning of spring, between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. People look for both the new moon and the new sun of the year. The feeling of renewal is deeply rooted in the soul of the people, even in their bodies. It’s surprising that no mythology or legend has developed around this. Fortunately, there is a mythology for the second most important festival, the Full Moon Festival in mid-autumn. It takes place around the autumn equinox (this year it was on October 6). Autumn is considered the perfect season, seen in the color and shape of the plant world. So the Chinese seek the perfect moon in the perfect season.
One version of this mythology goes as follows: In ancient times, there were ten suns, which were the ten sons of the sun goddess, Xihe. They lived near a divine tree in the East Sea. Each sun worked for one day, in a specific order. However, they became dissatisfied with this order, and one day all ten suns rose at the same time, scorching the Earth. In response, a young archer named Hou Yi shot down nine of the suns. Nine fireballs fell from the sky. As a reward, he received an elixir for eternal life from the primordial goddess, Xiwangmu. Since he loved his wife Chang’e, he suggested that they take the elixir together. But he warned her not to touch it beforehand. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she secretly put a drop of the elixir in her mouth when Hou Yi left the house to hunt in the forest. It was the night of the full moon in mid-autumn. Her body became lighter and lighter, and she flew to the moon, where, except for the Jade Rabbit, she lived alone forever, while Hou Yi died years later.
Temptation and Perfection
The symbols of mythology are like bubbles that a child plays with, shining like rainbows in the sun. Any touch, even the slightest intellectual idea, causes them to burst. But out of a longing to recognize the true meaning behind them, I dare to approach these mythological bubbles. Often, we see a female figure like Psyche in Greco-Roman mythology and Eve in biblical narrative; we see seduction through curiosity and greed for the new—it’s all about (im)mortality. We sense that the human soul was very fine and delicate, so beautiful and innocent that it could only be embodied by a woman. While Psyche and Eve attain knowledge through seduction, Chang’e attains oneness with perfection. The longing for the full moon, considered the ideal symbol of perfection, is a central motif in Chinese poetry. Chinese astronomy was not based on the sun and the zodiac, as in the West, but on the ever-present North Star and the alternating moon.
The disturbing forces dwelling in the lower realm, symbolized by the ten suns, are dissatisfied with the existing cosmic structure and seek a new order. They show themselves to be destructive forces. In order to restore harmony to life, a soul force—the archer Hou Yi suppressed them. He can be regarded as the soul initiator, the one who builds up the individuality for the future. As a reward, this soul force is promised immortality. But Chang’e enjoyed immortal life alone, not together with this soul force—Hou Yi died away.
A question arises about the inner attitude towards the so-called disharmonious forces that are seeking a new order. Could these be perceived as necessary, even positive forces for development, and thus treated differently? And why doesn’t the soul become one with this soul power? Instead, it lives an unhappy, albeit immortal life, while the seed of individuality, embodied as Hou Yi, must die. For Chang’e, who cannot gain the seed of life, freeing herself from the earthly and striving for perfection becomes more of a punishment than an emancipation. A poem from ninth-century China reads:
On the moon, Chang’e surely regrets having stolen the elixir of life.
Facing the blue-green sea in the deep blue sky,
She feels lonely in her heart night after night.3
The Countenance of Michael Today
The archer Hou Yi, a warrior, plays a role similar to that of Michael. He stands between the spirit world and the soul world and could have grown into a seed of life. With his death, this culture lost its ability to deal deeply with evil and the counterforce awakened by evil. Proof of this is that there is no symbol for evil in Chinese culture. Further proof is that there is no significant festival between the Full Moon Festival and the next Spring Festival. Could the being Chang’e, through the power of Michael, awaken her husband from the underworld, like Orpheus, and become one with him in order to re-enter the worlds of earthly and spiritual forces? Then a new festival could be born in the depths of winter, in which the Tao from Atlantean culture and the ‘I’ from post-Atlantean culture would be united.
What does Michael’s countenance look like today? We should expect that the relationship between Michael and the dragon will also evolve, in line with the constantly developing elements of human nature. The demonic, dragon-like being has, in a sense, withdrawn from the heart organ and penetrated the brain-nerve-sense system. Evil is no longer carried out instinctively but in the guise of thoughts that are lodged in the sensory system and judge themselves to be fully justified. Like a sovereign god of death, evil reigns in the brain-nerve-sense system. But can a god of death be killed in the same way that Michael triumphed over the dragon in the Middle Ages? Today, this being of evil can neither be killed nor comprehended, but instead, it must be recognized and integrated on a higher level. The task of today’s Michael is to revive and allow every sense perception and all thought content to resonate—be it an image, a sound, or a voice from outside or inside—to nourish, enliven, and spiritualize it. Imbued with artistic and poetic power, longing for the full moon, and becoming appeased or enchanted by it, as with Raphael and Novalis, Michael’s spear becomes a magic wand. His decisive willpower becomes infused with loving magic, and then our age, connected with this Michael impulse, could be described as “magical materialism.” Steiner’s last address would thus be the beginning of a new culture.
Now we return to our first question: If the being of Chang’e were to merge with the being of Michael, would they remain the same or become something else?
Translation Joshua Kelberman
Image Painting by Sigrid Schenk (detail); pigments and beeswax glaze binder on canvas
Footnotes
- Rudolf Steiner, Wahrspruchworte [True-verse words], GA 40 (Dornach: Rudolf Steiner Verlag, 2019), verse for Ludwig von Polzer-Hoditz, on a photograph, April 1923.
- Rudolf Steiner, Karmic Relationships 4: Esoteric Studies, CW 238 (London: Rudolf Steiner Press, 2017), 11 lectures, Dornach, Sept. 5–24, 1924, including the “Last Address,” Sept. 28, 1924.
- Li Shangyin, “嫦娥” [Chang’e]. Late Tang, 9th century.
