Lessons from Another Era

This book about Dietrich Bonhoeffer--this very, very long book--has been such a challenge to get through.  And not just because it is 624 pages long.  

More so because Dietrich Bonhoeffer the man was so entrenched in the Gospel, so taken by his Savior, so single-mindedly devoted to his heavenly Master, that his brief life compels a very long, hard look.  The words from his letters have me highlighting in my Kindle on every other page.  The tough choices he made--with an attitude of genuine surrender to the good hands of God--have caused me to pause and think so many times.  This hasn't just been about reading a book about a historical figure.  This has been every bit a spiritual challenge to learn lessons from a brother from a dark era in history.

What God has done, it is well done. 

His will is always just.

Whatever He will do to me,

In Him I'll ever place my trust.

Bonhoeffer's mother chose such lyrics to be sung at the funeral of her son Walter--Dietrich's brother--after he was killed in action during World War I.  We often sing during church songs such as "Blessed Be Your Name," in which we pledge to bless God's name "on the road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering."  I'm sure that such sentiments coming from my own mouth are far more aspirational than they are descriptive.  Not having walked a road marked with any real suffering in a very long time, I don't know if I will really bless God's name on such a day in the future.  I should hope so, but I can't say for sure.  And besides blessing Jesus's name, will I then also reaffirm the goodness of who He is and His will?  I'd like to say yes.  But it is tomfoolery to boldly predict that I will.

* * *

It is remarkable how I am never quite clear about the motives for any of my decisions.  Is that a sign of confusion, of inner dishonesty, or is it a sign that we are guided without our knowing, or is it both? . . . . The reasons one gives for an action to others and to one's self are certainly inadequate.  One can give a reason for everything.  In the last resort one acts from a level which remains hidden from us.  So one can only ask God to judge us and to forgive us . . . . At the end of the day I can only ask God to give a merciful judgment on today and all its decisions.  It is now in his hand.

Bonhoeffer wrote the foregoing in a letter to a friend during his second visit to New York, at the opening of WWII, when he came to the United States to avoid the difficult choice of serving in the military under the Fuhrer, or being executed for his refusal to do so.  Soon after he arrived, Bonhoeffer felt that everything was wrong in coming to New York, and that he must return to Germany to suffer alongside his brethren in the faith.  Of course, returning to Germany undid all of the many efforts and strings pulled in high places to protect him. And so, he questioned his motives for returning.  Of course, the balance of Bonhoeffer's life strongly suggests that his return to Germany was the right thing for him to do.  

But whether it was objectively right or wrong seemed to be of secondary importance to Bonhoeffer.  Throughout the latter part of his life, it became especially apparent that his philosophy was to fully embrace God, and to live life fully for Him--even if it meant risking doing the "wrong" thing.  He would rather move in a full-fledged direction toward God, even at the risk of making a mistake, rather than tiptoeing around and doing nothing in fear of doing something wrong along the way.  In the end, God weighs our motives, and in any event, He can redeem the choices that we make.  

I found comfort and courage in this, being reminded that sometimes we make the wrong decisions, or we end up in the wrong places, even after concerted prayer and attempts to discern what God has for us.  In my results-oriented worldview, the fear of ending up in the wrong place, or making a major mistake, can be crippling--even paralyzing, to the point where I choose not to do, rather than risk doing wrong.  Perhaps that is not the perspective God desires from me.  Perhaps my "fear of doing wrong" is really just a manifestation of too much trust in myself, and too little freedom in God...?  Not sure.

* * *

Where God tears great gaps we should not try to fill them with human words.  They should remain open.  Our only comfort is the God of the resurrection, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who also was and is his God.  

Bonhoeffer wrote this in a letter to brothers whom he had previously taught at Finkenwalde, an illegal theological seminary of the Confessing Church, sharing the news that another of the Finkenwalde brethren had been called up at killed at war.  

His statement resonated so much, particularly since I am among those who often feels the need to fill moments of misery with words of encouragement and peace.  Sometimes that is good. But sometimes it is superfluous.  Let the pain be felt, let the pain be real.  Do not whisk it away prematurely, but let the wound stand agape.  And in that moment, in a very Presbyterian fashion, let me call upon Jesus--the only one with power to address and heal the wound--and remember that our hope lies in Him.

More later...