Last week I joined some friends at the movie “Bonhoeffer: Pastor. Spy. Assassin.” Before seeing it, all I knew about Dietrich Bonhoeffer was that he was a well-known Lutheran theologian; I might have come across some of his work in a class, but I couldn’t have told you anything about him or his theology. Now, having seen the movie, I want to read more of his work.
Bonhoeffer was born in 1906 into a prominent German family; he went on to earn a Doctor of Theology from Humboldt University in Berlin and was ordained a Lutheran priest at the age of 25. He opposed the Nazi regime from its earliest days, and spoke out against the German Protestant churches’ practice of allowing the pulpit to be used to promote Hitler’s policies. (In 1945, the Council of the Protestant Church in Germany issued “The Stuttgart Declaration of Guilt,” acknowledging that it inadequately opposed the Nazis.)
One scene in the movie that struck me shows Bonhoeffer, preparing to give a homily against the Nazis despite his bishop’s warning about the consequences of doing so, asking his father for permission to be brave. His father, without knowing what his son is planning, says there is no need to ask permission.
Even as the movie continued, I wondered in what areas I have to give myself permission to be brave. Just recently I was with strangers and consciously chose not to identify myself as Catholic because I thought at first introduction it would impede what we were trying to achieve – not everyone in the group believes in some of the tenets of the faith, and I didn’t want to get into a discussion that would detract from our common goal. At the time I thought I was acting on Saint Paul’s advice: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do, provided the Romans are doing things ‘in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.’” Upon reflection, however, I wonder if it was a form of cowardice.
Another scene in the movie shows Martin Niemölle giving his famous quote that is in a similar theme: “First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.”
Niemölle, another German Lutheran pastor, originally supported the Nazis, but later joined Bonhoeffer and others in what they called the Confessing Church, which opposed Hitler. Niemölle spent eight years in Nazi concentration camps; he later became an anti-war activist and campaigned for nuclear disarmament.
One criticism I have of the movie is that it does little to explain Nazi atrocities. For example, Bonhoeffer witnesses men and women wearing a yellow Star of David being loaded into a truck, but there is nothing to indicate that these people are bound for a concentration camp. Similarly, when Bonhoeffer himself arrives at a camp he views a heap of ashes containing human bones, but this is the only indication of the crematorium operating within the fences. I wonder how many viewers will glean from these visual hints just what it was that Bonhoeffer gave his life to oppose.
Another flaw in the film is that it glosses over much of the contributions Bonhoeffer made; although he was only 39 when he was executed by the Nazis he was considered an influential theologian, and one of his books remains a classic of Christian thought.
For me, though, the greatest value of the movie was its insight into Bonhoeffer’s theology, and I want to read his work to learn more. In particular, I’d like to explore his idea of cheap grace, which he defines as “the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.” By comparison, “Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son.” (from The Cost of Discipleship.)
I wonder if anyone is interested in doing a study group on this book.
One final quote from the movie that struck me; I might not have it exact but it went something like, “God does not always answer us but he is always with us.” A Google search doesn’t reveal a source for this quote, but it has given me much cause for reflection.
Marie Mischel is editor of the Intermountain Catholic. Contact her at marie@icatholic.org.
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