We can understand how this came about if we admit that the wisdom of

the Mysteries was imbedded in the popular religion of the Jews.

Christianity arose out of Judaism. We need not therefore be surprised

at finding engrafted on Judaism, together with Christianity those

mystical ideas which we have seen to be the common property of Greek

and Egyptian spiritual life. If we examine national religions, we find

various conceptions of the spiritual; but if, in each case, we go

back to the deeper wisdom of the priests, which proves to be the

spiritual nucleus of them all, we find agreement everywhere. Plato

knows himself to be in agreement with the priest-sages of Egypt when

he is trying to set forth the main content of Greek wisdom in his

philosophical view of the universe. It is related of Pythagoras that

he travelled to Egypt and India, and was instructed by the sages in

those countries. Thinkers who lived in the earlier days of

Christianity found so much agreement between the philosophical

teachings of Plato and the deeper meaning of the Mosaic writings, that

they called Plato a Moses with Attic tongue.

Thus Mystery wisdom existed everywhere. In Judaism it acquired a form

which it had to assume if it was to become a world-religion.

Judaism expected the Messiah. It is not to be wondered at that when

the personality of an unique initiate appeared, the Jews could only

conceive of him as being the Messiah. Indeed this circumstance throws

light on the fact that what had been an individual matter in the

Mysteries became an affair of the whole nation. The Jewish religion

had from the beginning been a national religion. The Jewish people

looked upon itself as one organism. Its Jao was the God of the whole

nation. If the son of this God were to be born, he must be the

redeemer of the whole nation. The individual Mystic was not to be

saved apart from others, the whole nation was to share in the

redemption. That one is to die for all is founded on the fundamental

ideas of the Jewish religion.

It is also certain that there were mysteries in Judaism, which could

be brought out of the dimness of a secret cult into the popular

religion. A fully-developed mysticism existed side by side with the

priestly wisdom which was attached to the outer formalism of the

Pharisees. This mystery wisdom is spoken of among the Jews just as it

is elsewhere. When one day an initiate was speaking of it, and his

hearers sensed the secret meaning of his words, they said: "Old man,

what hast thou done? Oh, that thou hadst kept silence! Thou thinkest

to navigate the boundless ocean without sail or mast. This is what

thou art attempting. Wilt thou fly upwards? Thou canst not. Wilt thou

descend into the depths? An immeasurable abyss is yawning before

thee." And the Kabbalists, from whom the above is taken, also speak of

four Rabbis; and these four Rabbis sought the secret path to the

divine. The first died; the second lost his reason; the third caused

monstrous evils, and only the fourth, Rabbi Akiba, went in and out of

the spiritual world in peace.

We thus see that within Judaism also there was a soil in which an

initiate of an unique kind could develop. He had only to say to

himself: "I will not let salvation be limited to a few chosen people.

I will let all people participate in it." He was to carry out into the

world at large what the elect had experienced in the temples of the

Mysteries. He had to be willing to take upon himself to be, in spirit,

to his community, through his personality, that which the cult of the

Mysteries had heretofore been to those who took part in them. It is

true he could not at once give to the whole community the experiences

of the Mysteries, nor would he have wished to do so. But he wished to

give to all the certainty of the truth contemplated in the Mysteries.

He wished to cause the life, which flowed within the Mysteries, to

flow through the further historical evolution of humanity, and thus to

raise mankind to a higher stage of existence. "Blessed are they that

have not seen, and yet have believed." He wished to plant unshakably

in human hearts, in the form of confidence, the certainty that the

divine really exists. One who stands outside initiation and has this

confidence will certainly go further than one who is without it. It

must have weighed like a mountain on the mind of Jesus to think that

there might be many standing outside who do not find the way. He

wished to lessen the gulf between those to be initiated and the

"people." Christianity was to be a means by which every one might find

the way. Should one or another not yet be ripe, at any rate he is not

cut off from the possibility of sharing, more or less unconsciously,

in the benefit of the spiritual current flowing through the Mysteries.

"The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost."

Henceforward even those who cannot yet share in initiation may enjoy

some of the fruits of the Mysteries. Henceforth the Kingdom of God was

not to be dependent on outward ceremonies: "Neither shall they say, Lo

here! or, Lo there! for, behold, the Kingdom of God is within you."

With Jesus the point in question was not so much how far this or that

person advanced in the kingdom of the spirit, as that all should be

convinced that that kingdom exists. "In this rejoice not, that the

spirits are subject unto you; but rather rejoice, because your names

are written in heaven." That is, have confidence in the divine. The

time will come when you will find it.

VIII

THE LAZARUS MIRACLE

Amongst the "miracles" attributed to Jesus, very special importance

must be attached to the raising of Lazarus at Bethany. Everything

combines to assign a prominent position in the New Testament to that

which is here related by the Evangelist. We must bear in mind that St.

John alone relates it, the Evangelist who by the weighty words with

which he opens his Gospel claims for it a very definite

interpretation.

St. John begins with these sentences: "In the beginning was the Word,

and the Word was with God, and the word was a God.... And the Word was

made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, a glory as of

the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth."

One who places such words at the beginning of his narrative is

plainly indicating that he wishes it to be interpreted in a very deep

sense. The man who approaches it with merely intellectual

explanations, or otherwise in a superficial way, is like one who

thinks that Othello on the stage really murders Desdemona. What then

is it that St. John means to say in his introductory words? He plainly

says that he is speaking of something eternal, which existed at the

beginning of things. He relates facts, but they are not to be taken as

facts observed by the eye and ear, and upon which logical reason

exercises its skill. He hides behind facts the "Word" which is in the

Cosmic Spirit. For him, the facts are the medium in which a higher

meaning is expressed. And we may therefore assume that in the fact of

a man being raised from the dead, a fact which offers the greatest

difficulties to the eye, ear, and logical reason, the very deepest

meaning lies concealed.

Another thing has to be taken into consideration. Renan, in his _Life

of Jesus_, has pointed out that the raising of Lazarus undoubtedly had

a decisive influence on the end of the life of Jesus. Such a thought

appears impossible from the point of view which Renan takes. For why

should the fact that the belief was being circulated amongst the

populace that Jesus had raised a man from the dead appear to his

opponents so dangerous that they asked the question, "Can Jesus and

Judaism exist side by side?" It does not do to assert with Renan: "The

other miracles of Jesus were passing events, repeated in good faith and

exaggerated by popular report, and they were thought no more of after

they had happened. But this one was a real event, publicly known, and

by means of which it was sought to silence the Pharisees. All the

enemies of Jesus were exasperated by the sensation it caused. It is

related that they sought to kill Lazarus." It is incomprehensible why

this should be if Renan were right in his opinion that all that

happened at Bethany was the getting up of a mock scene, intended to

strengthen belief in Jesus. "Perhaps Lazarus, still pale from his

illness, had himself wrapped in a shroud and laid in the family grave.

These tombs were large rooms hewn out of the rock, and entered by a

square opening which was closed by an immense slab. Martha and Mary

hastened to meet Jesus, and brought him to the grave before he had

entered Bethany. The painful emotion felt by Jesus at the grave of the

friend whom he believed to be dead (John xi. 33, 38) might be taken by

those present for the agitation and tremors which were wont to

accompany miracles. According to popular belief, divine power in a man

was like an epileptic and convulsive element. Continuing the above

hypothesis, Jesus wished to see once more the man he had loved, and the

stone having been rolled away, Lazarus came forth in his grave-clothes,

his head bound with a napkin. This apparition naturally was looked upon

by every one as a resurrection. Faith knows no other law than the

interest of what it holds to be true." Does not such an explanation

appear absolutely naïve, when Renan adds the following opinion:

"Everything seems to suggest that the miracle of Bethany materially

contributed to hasten the death of Jesus"? Yet there is undoubtedly an

accurate perception underlying this last assertion of Renan. But with

the means at his disposal he is not able to interpret or justify his

opinion.

Something of quite special importance must have been accomplished by

Jesus at Bethany, in order that such words as the following may be

accounted for: "Then gathered the chief priests and the Pharisees a

council, and said, 'What do we? for this man doeth many miracles'"

(John xi. 47). Renan, too, conjectures something special: "It must be

acknowledged," he says, "that John's narrative is of an essentially

different kind from the accounts of miracles of which the Synoptists

are full, and which are the outcome of the popular imagination. Let us

add that John is the only Evangelist with accurate knowledge of the

relations of Jesus with the family at Bethany, and that it would be

incomprehensible how a creation of the popular mind could have been

inserted in the frame of such personal reminiscences. It is,

therefore, probable that the miracle in question was not amongst the

wholly legendary ones, for which no one is responsible. In other

words, I think that something took place at Bethany which was looked

upon as a resurrection." Does not this really mean that Renan surmises

that something happened at Bethany which he cannot explain? He

entrenches himself behind the words: "At this distance of time, and

with only one text bearing obvious traces of subsequent additions, it

is impossible to decide whether, in the present case, all is fiction,

or whether a real fact which happened at Bethany served as the basis

of the report that was spread abroad." Might it not be that we have to

do here with something of which we might arrive at a true

understanding merely by reading the text in the right way? In that

case, we should perhaps no longer speak of "fiction."

It must be admitted that the whole narrative of this event in St.

John's Gospel is wrapped in a mysterious veil. To show this, we need

only mention one point. If the narrative is to be taken in the

literal, physical sense, what meaning have these words of Jesus: "This

sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of

God might be glorified thereby." This is the usual translation of the

words, but the actual state of the case is better arrived at, if they

are translated, "for the vision (or manifestation) of God, that the

Son of God might be manifested thereby." This translation is also

correct according to the Greek original. And what do these other words

mean, "Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he

that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live"? (John

xi. 4, 25). It would be a triviality to think that Jesus meant to say

that Lazarus had only become ill in order that Jesus might manifest

His skill through him. And it would again be a triviality to think

that Jesus meant to assert that faith in Him brings to life again one

who in the ordinary sense is dead. What would there be remarkable

about a person who has risen from the dead, if after his resurrection

he were the same as he was before dying? Indeed what would be the

meaning of describing the life of such a person in the words, "I am

the resurrection and the life"? Life and meaning at once come into the

words of Jesus if we understand them to be the expression of a

spiritual occurrence and then, in a certain sense, literally as they

stand in the text. Jesus actually says that He is the resurrection

that has happened to Lazarus, and that He is the life that Lazarus is

living. Let us take literally what Jesus is in St. John's Gospel.

He is "the Word that was made flesh." He is the Eternal that existed

in the beginning. If he is really the resurrection, then the Eternal,

Primordial has risen again in Lazarus. We have, therefore, to do with

a resurrection of the eternal "Word," and this "Word" is the life to

which Lazarus has been raised. It is a case of illness, not one

leading to death, but to the glory, _i.e._, the manifestation of God.

If the eternal Word has reawakened in Lazarus, the whole event

conduces to manifest God in Lazarus. For by means of the event Lazarus

has become a different man. Before it, the Word, or spirit did not

live in him, now it does. The spirit has been born within him. It is

true that every birth is accompanied by illness, that of the mother,

but the illness leads to new life, not to death. In Lazarus that part

of him becomes ill from which the "new man," permeated by the "Word,"

is born.

* * * * *

Where is the grave from which the "Word" is born? To answer this

question we have only to remember Plato, who calls man's body the tomb

of the soul. And we have only to recall Plato's speaking of a kind of

resurrection when he alludes to the coming to life of the spiritual

world in the body. What Plato calls the spiritual soul, St. John

denominates the "Word." And for him, Christ is the "Word." Plato might

have said, "One who becomes spiritual has caused something divine to

rise out of the grave of his body." For St. John, that which took

place through the life of Jesus was that resurrection. It is not

surprising, therefore, if he makes Jesus say, "I am the resurrection."

There can be no doubt that the occurrence at Bethany was an awakening

in the spiritual sense. Lazarus became something different from what

he was before. He was raised to a life of which the Eternal Word could

say, "I am that life." What then took place in Lazarus? The spirit

came to life within him. He became a partaker of the life which is

eternal. We have only to express his experience in the words of those

who were initiated into the Mysteries, and the meaning at once becomes

clear. What does Plutarch (_vide supra_ p. 26 _et seq._) say about the

object of the Mysteries? They were to serve to withdraw the soul from

bodily life and to unite it with the gods. Schelling thus describes

the feelings of an initiate:

"The initiate through his initiation became a link in the magic chain,

he himself became a Kabir. He was admitted into an indestructible

association and, as ancient inscriptions express it, joined to the

army of the higher gods" (Schelling, _Philosophie der Offenbarung_).

And the revolution that took place in the life of one who received

initiation cannot be more significantly described than in the words

spoken by Ädesius to his disciple, the Emperor Constantine: "If one

day thou shouldst take part in the Mysteries, thou wilt feel ashamed

of having been born merely as a man."

If we fill our souls with such feelings as these, we shall gain the

right attitude towards the event that took place at Bethany, and have

a peculiarly characteristic experience through St. John's narrative. A

certainty will dawn upon us which cannot be obtained by any logical

interpretation or by any attempt at rationalistic explanation. A

mystery in the true sense of the word is before us. The "Eternal Word"

entered into Lazarus. In the language of the Mysteries, he became an

initiate (_vide_ p. 132 _et seq._), and the event narrated to us must

be the process of initiation.

Let us look upon the whole occurrence as though it were an initiation.

Lazarus is loved by Jesus (John xi. 36). No ordinary affection can be

meant by this, for it would be contrary to the spirit of St. John's

Gospel, in which Jesus is "The Word." Jesus loved Lazarus because he

found him ripe for the awakening of "the Word" within him. Jesus had

relations with the family at Bethany. This only means that Jesus had

made everything ready in that family for the final act of the drama,

the raising of Lazarus. The latter was a disciple of Jesus, such an

one that Jesus could be quite sure that in him the awakening would be

consummated. The final act in a drama of awakening consisted in a

symbolical action. The person involved in it had not only to

understand the words, "Die and become!" He had to fulfil them himself

by a real, spiritual action. His earthly part, of which his higher

being in the Spirit of the Mysteries must be ashamed, had to be put

away. The earthly must die a symbolic-real death. The putting of his

body into a somnambulic sleep for three days can only be denoted an

outer event in comparison with the greatness of the transformation

which was taking place in him. An incomparably more momentous

spiritual event corresponded to it. But this very process was the

experience which divides the life of the Mystic into two parts. One

who does not know from experience the inner significance of such acts

cannot understand them. They can only be suggested by means of a

comparison.

The substance of Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ may be compressed into a few

words. Any one who learns these words may say that in a certain sense

he knows the contents of _Hamlet_; and logically he does. But one who

has let all the wealth of the Shakespearian drama stream in upon him

knows _Hamlet_ in a different way. A life-current has passed through

his soul which cannot be replaced by any mere description. The idea of

_Hamlet_ has become an artistic, personal experience within him.

On a higher plane of consciousness, a similar process takes place in

man when he experiences the magically significant event which is bound

up with initiation. What he attains spiritually, he lives through

symbolically. The word "symbolically" is used here in the sense that

an outer event is really enacted on the physical plane, but that as

such, it is nevertheless a symbol. It is not a case of an unreal, but

of a real symbol. The earthly body has really been dead for three

days.[5] New life comes forth from death. This life has outlived

death. Man has gained confidence in the new life.

It happened thus with Lazarus. Jesus had prepared him for

resurrection. His illness was at once symbolic and real, an illness

which was an initiation (_cf._ p. 132 _et seq._), and which leads,

after three days, to a really new life.

Lazarus was ripe for undergoing this experience. He wrapped himself in

the garment of the Mystic, and fell into a condition of lifelessness

which was symbolic death. And when Jesus came, the three days had

elapsed. "Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead

was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, 'Father, I thank thee

that thou hast heard me'" (John xi. 41). The Father had heard Jesus,

for Lazarus had come to the final act in the great drama of knowledge.

He had learned how resurrection is attained. An initiation into the

Mysteries had been consummated. It was a case of such an initiation as

had been understood as such during the whole of antiquity. It had

taken place through Jesus, as the initiator. Union with the divine

had always been conceived of in this way.

In Lazarus Jesus accomplished the great miracle of the transmutation

of life in the sense of immemorial tradition. Through this event,

Christianity is connected with the Mysteries. Lazarus had become an

initiate through Christ Jesus Himself, and had thereby become able to

enter the higher worlds. He was at once the first Christian initiate

and the first to be initiated by Christ Jesus Himself. Through his

initiation he had become capable of recognising that the "Word" which

had been awakened within him had become a person in Christ Jesus, and

that consequently there stood before him in the personality of his

awakener, the same force which had been spiritually manifested within

him. From this point of view, these words of Jesus are significant,

"And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the people

which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent

me." This means that the point is to make evident this fact: in Jesus

lives the "Son of the Father" in such a way that when he awakens his

own nature in man, man becomes a Mystic. In this way Jesus made it

plain that the meaning of life was hidden in the Mysteries and that

they were the path to this understanding. He is the living Word; in

Him was personified what had been immemorial tradition. And therefore

the Evangelist is justified in expressing this in the sentence, "in

Him the Word was made flesh." He rightly sees in Jesus himself an

incarnated Mystery. On this account, St. John's Gospel is a Mystery.

In order to read it rightly, we must bear in mind that the facts are

spiritual facts. If a priest of the old order had written it, he would

have described traditional rites. These for St. John took the form of

a person, and became the life of Jesus.

An eminent modern investigator of the Mysteries, Burkhardt in _Die

Zeit Konstantins_, says that they "will never be cleared up." This is

because he has not found out how to explain them. If we take the

Gospel of St. John and see in it the working out in symbolic-corporeal

reality the drama of knowledge presented by the ancients, we are

really gazing upon the Mystery itself.

In the words, "Lazarus, come forth," we can recognise the call with

which the Egyptian priestly initiators summoned back to every-day life

those who, temporarily removed from the world by the processes of

initiation, had undergone them in order to die to earthly things and

to gain a conviction of the reality of the eternal. Jesus in this way

revealed the secret of the Mysteries. It is easy to understand that

the Jews could not let such an act go unpunished, any more than the

Greeks could have refrained from punishing Æschylus, if he had

betrayed the secrets of the Mysteries.

The main point for Jesus was to represent in the initiation of Lazarus

before all "the people which stood by," an event which in the old days

of priestly wisdom could only be enacted in the recesses of the

mystery-temples. The initiation of Lazarus was to prepare the way to

the understanding of the "Mystery of Golgotha." Previously only those

who "saw," that is to say, who were initiated, were able to know

something of what was achieved by initiation, but now a conviction of

the Mysteries of higher worlds could also be gained by those who "had

not seen, and yet had believed."

FOOTNOTES:

[5] This and other circumstances connected with the so-called raising

of Lazarus from the dead are to be understood in the light of the fact,

that Lazarus' death-sleep was at the same time symbolic and real--it

was in other words a symbolic reality, a reality symbolising other

realities, and but for the action of Christ, Lazarus would have

remained dead.

IX

THE APOCALYPSE OF ST. JOHN

Christianity as Mystical Fact, and the Mysteries of Antiquity · 第 7 / 10 段