Presented by

Steve Bezner

April 12, 2007

South Texas School of Christian Studies

Theological Colloquium

“Holiness in Death”

We are here today to think about how Bonhoeffer’s work and thought manifested itself in holiness, particularly in the face of death. We take our cue from Bonhoeffer’s “Stations on the Way to Freedom” found among his prison writings:

Come now, highest of feasts on the way to freedom eternal,

Death, strike off the fetters, break down the walls that oppress us,

Our bedazzled soul and our ephemeral body,

That we may see at last the sight which here was not vouchsafed us.

Freedom, we sought you long in discipline, action, suffering.

Now as we die we see you and know you at last, face to face.¹

Perhaps it will help us to think about our themes: holiness and death.

Holiness, of course, is the biblical concept of difference, uniqueness, separateness—all for the purposes and glory of God. When something or someone is holy, they are different because God has made it or them different, typically for a particular purpose. The creation poem in Genesis concludes with God’s dedication and consecration of the seventh day:

And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.—Genesis 2:3

The seventh day became holy and different; for scores of Jews and Christians today, the seventh day has become the Sabbath, a day that is set aside for God’s purposes rather than our own. The day is different because it is holy, and it is holy because it is different.

And death, obviously, is the end of life. When death comes, life has reached its conclusion. For most of us, death is something that, if we are honest, we fear, at least a bit. It is the great unknown. And no matter how many “near-death” experiences we hear about or how many books are written about a brief time in Heaven, most of us retain a bit of skepticism. Death is something we cannot know or appreciate until we experience it. Death has a finality that is startling, the mark of an end, a real end.

I think of Billy Crystal as Miracle Max in “The Princess Bride” describing the difference between “mostly dead” and “all dead.” “Mostly dead,” he says, means that there is still hope for life. When pushed to explain all dead, he says that there is only one thing to do.

“What’s that?” he is asked.

“Go through their pockets and look for loose change,” he wryly replies.

The question then faces us: how is something so final and stark as death used by God for something as weighty as holiness? Holiness seems to demand an earthiness…created things are set apart and are made holy. Obviously God is holy, but He is all that is holy by default. All other holy things are made holy by God, and it seems bizarre for God to make death holy. It is, after all, not very popular. It seems so fleeting and final. It is not easy to look at or to hold on to. Death is the end of creation, at least for our personal lives.

But Bonhoeffer knew that God intends for death, just like the rest of our creaturely existence, to be holy—to be set apart for his purposes.

On April 9, 1945 a middle-aged man with a middle-aged body, by the name of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, was escorted to the gallows at Flossenbürg prison. He was leading chapel service for the prisoners that morning. When the guards came for him he concluded his service with a prayer and then followed his executioner. He was stripped naked and facing death, but he did not seem afraid. He said a brief prayer, climbed the gallows stairs and placed his head into the awaiting noose. He was hanged in the cold, gray dawn. His death was observed by the guard there to be met with bravery; he died with an assuredness that this was not the end. He received his death with a calm. He wrote down immediately before his hanging, “This is the end of life; for me, the beginning.” He was a pastor and a theologian in the Confessing Church movement, and he received punishment for crimes against the secular state.

I sometimes wonder if Bonhoeffer’s theology would ever have become important in English-speaking nations had he not been executed. Bonhoeffer is probably most well-known because of his death. Many of those who have never read any of Bonhoeffer’s writings are still aware of him, particularly because of his untimely martyrdom. I think that, most likely, Bonhoeffer’s work would not have reached the United States with such force had it not been for his execution. Granted, having friends with the names of Karl Barth and Reinhold Niebuhr did not hurt his chances.

Nevertheless, prior to his death, Bonhoeffer was considered by many to be a second-tier theologian with a strong Barthian, dialectical influence. He was an important thinker to the Christians in Germany, but it is doubtful whether his full influence could be appreciated. Bonhoeffer’s value, of course, was partly underappreciated because his explicitly theological works had been written while in graduate school. His two doctoral dissertations explicated some of the most challenging themes in contemporary theology of his day (religio-sociology and theological epistemology)—but does anyone actually read doctoral dissertations after they are written?

So I think that we can most assuredly say that because of Bonhoeffer’s death, his writings were more carefully explored, read, and translated. His writings, for many of us, provide a glimpse into the mind of a martyr. And, at least for those of us who are Christians, we wonder if we would have the mental and spiritual mettle to give our life for Christ if it was asked of us. Bonhoeffer answered that question in his own life definitively. To read his words means to encounter an extra measure of poignancy. We know the way that his story ends as we read his writings.

Two texts are most instrumental for thinking on this topic of holiness in death: first, the collection of Bonhoeffer’s prison papers—Letters and Papers from Prison—and his final attempt at theology prior to his imprisonment—his Ethics.

From these two texts I would like to discuss some themes that emerge as Bonhoeffer meditates on death and how the church is to move forward in the world in light of the end:

I. Stellvertretung, or Vicarious Representative Action

Those who are familiar with Bonhoeffer know that the majority of his theological career was spent working in ecumenical circles, primarily for peace. His most famous work, The Cost of Discipleship, exposits the Sermon on the Mount, focusing on the exhortation of Jesus to turn the other cheek and to love one’s enemies. The Bonhoeffer of Discipleship is a pacifist—at least most of the textual clues from his writings lead us to draw that conclusion.

But then just a few years later Bonhoeffer is serving as a double agent in the Abwehr—the German intelligence agency. He is working in a group that is plotting to assassinate Hitler. And, although the plot fails, the implications are clear: if Bonhoeffer is a pacifist, he is not a very good one. What sort of pacifist attempts murder?

In order to understand Bonhoeffer’s actions one must understand our first theme of holiness in death: vicarious representative action. Or in German—Stellvertretung. The theme actually surfaces during Bonhoeffer’s initial dissertation—Sanctorum Communio—probably because his dissertation advisor, Reinhold Seeberg, employed it as a characteristic theme of systematic theology in his own dogmatics.

But despite the fact that the theme shows up with regularity throughout his earlier works, Bonhoeffer doesn’t take time to fully expound the idea until his Ethics. All of this of course begs the question, “What exactly is vicarious representative action?”

Let us allow Bonhoeffer to answer that question. He writes in his Ethics:

“Responsibility is based on vicarious representative action. This is most evident in those relationships in which a person is literally required to act on behalf of others, for example, as a father, or a statesman, or as the instructor of an apprentice. A father acts on behalf of his children by working, providing, intervening, struggling, and suffering for them. In so doing, he really stands in their place. He is not an isolated individual, but incorporates the selves of several people in his own self.”²

He continues: “Jesus—the life, our life—the Son of God who became human, lived as our vicarious representative…His entire living, acting, and suffering was vicarious representative action. All that human beings were supposed to live, do, and suffer was fulfilled in him.”³

The notion is that Jesus Christ embodied God by enacting for God on behalf of humanity. Consequently, those who most completely understand the call of Christ are those who will willingly act on another’s behalf. Jesus acted for us; the church must act for others. Jesus’ action was selfless. He did not think of himself when he acted for humanity; his concern was for others. The church, then, is to act in such a way. As Bonhoeffer concludes, “Only those who are selfless live responsibly, which means that only selfless people truly live.”⁴

When faced, then, with the problem of Hitler, Bonhoeffer embodied his notion of vicarious representative action. The responsible, ethical, action would not be a turning of the cheek. It would, instead, be to shoulder guilt, just as Christ shouldered guilt for humanity. Bonhoeffer likened his decision to participate in the assassination attempt to wresting the wheel of the car from a madman driving into a crowd of people. To not act would be unchristian. Bonhoeffer acted, quite willingly, so that he might wrest the wheel of Germany from Hitler—even though it was by violent means.

Bonhoeffer never believed that he would escape guilt for this decision. He did not picture a grace that automatically forgave his rejection of the command to not kill. But a vicarious representative willingly shoulders guilt, as Christ did on the cross, for us. In other words, when he participated in the plot to kill Hitler, Bonhoeffer did not believe his action to be good; on the contrary, he believed it a sin for which he would be punished. But he embraced the task because he felt it responsible for a Christian to shoulder guilt and to act responsibly on behalf of his nation.

Bonhoeffer envisioned acting for the world because it emulated Christ. So as we discuss holiness in death, it becomes interesting that for Bonhoeffer, at least, holiness could come both in receiving one’s own death, and, perhaps, in being used by God to end the life of another—at least in this particular situation. This becomes holiness in death, both ways, so to speak. (This concept seems a bit of a slippery slope, particularly in the post 9/11 world, so we can talk about this more if you would like.)

In any respect, the first way in which Christians can experience holiness in death is by living and acting for others…when they have no voice or power or action, we are to act for them.

II. Suffering With Christ

It becomes clear in discussing vicarious representative action—acting on behalf of another—that Bonhoeffer’s reason for embracing the theological concept is because it personifies the actions of Jesus. In other words, because Jesus did it, we should seek to do it as well. Part of the problem, of course, of emulating and imitating Jesus’ actions is that Jesus’ actions led directly to his execution. Those of us who seek to love unconditionally and act on behalf of others, perhaps even shouldering their guilt, will eventually suffer for those actions, much like Christ did. Is it good for us to suffer?

The answer for Bonhoeffer is yes. When Christians imitate the actions of Jesus and encounter suffering as a result, they are participating in the redemptive work of Christ, and consequently, are allowing the form of Christ to take shape in the world.

Now this, of course, seems backwards. But much with Jesus is. When I saw the film, “Million Dollar Baby,” Morgan Freeman’s character stated several times through the film, “Everthing in boxing is backwards.” For example, if you want to lessen the blow of a punch, then you step into the punch, although your instinct is to back away. Our instincts are to move away from suffering and to live our lives in order to minimize pain and inconvenience. But Jesus willingly encountered the suffering of the cross, and, consequently we may, from time to time need to embrace suffering if it is encountered through emulating Jesus.

It is important to note, however, that this is not suffering simply for suffering’s sake. This is not a strange monastery where you beat yourself with thorny whips or wear wool pants in the summer simply in order to inflict pain in a sadistic manner.

For Bonhoeffer, Jesus cannot be simply seen as a sacrifice on a cross. The gospels are not simply extended passion narratives. The gospels tell us of the incarnation and life of Jesus, how he healed and loved. The gospels tell also of his crucifixion, how he gave his life willingly in submission to God’s will. The gospels finally tell of his resurrection, how God the Father raised him from the dead. All of these components make up the person of Jesus, and they cannot be separated. Incaration, crucifixion, and resurrection. All three are essential to Jesus. All three are essential to following him. (This is difficult for those of us in Baptist/evangelical churches who are accustomed to the cross being the key component of our Christology.)

I can embrace suffering when I am attempting to follow Jesus’ teachings and live out his incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection. I should not manufacture suffering artificially. Nor should I hide from suffering when it genuinely appears as I follow Jesus.

Bonhoeffer explains, “Not only action, but also suffering is a way to freedom. In suffering, the deliverance consists in our being allowed to put the matter out of our own hands into God’s hands. In this sense death is the crowning of human freedom. Whether the human deed is a matter of faith or not depends on whether we understand our suffering as an extension of our action and a completion of our freedom. I think that is very important and very comforting.”⁵

Our suffering must be connected to our own free actions because then, and only then, is it the suffering of Christ. Christ’s actions freely done led to his suffering. Our actions, when they are freely done in order to imitate Christ, when they lead to suffering, allow us to identify with Christ and suffer along with him.

Of course all this talk of suffering seems bizarre. In what way can it actually be good if I suffer?

Bonhoeffer argues that it reveals the true nature of God. God, he argues, is not concerned with power—at least not in the classical Greek sense of power. Rather than asking God to appear only when the tough questions and moments arrive, Bonhoeffer suggests that in those tough moments the believer most completely grasps God’s nature by experiencing the difficulty and pain that they present.

He writes, “The Bible directs man to God’s powerlessness and suffering; only the suffering God can help. To that extent we may say that the development towards the world’s coming of age outlined above, which has done away with a false conception of God, opens up a way of seeing the God of the Bible, who wins power and space in the world by his weakness.”⁶

God helps by becoming human, becoming weak, and being pushed out of the world and onto the cross. When we begin to understand that concept and live it, we begin to really understand holiness in light of our own death.

It’s not surprising then, that when Bonhoeffer wrote Discipleship he stated, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”⁷ When we suffer alongside Christ, we prepare ourselves for a death that is set aside by God—a death that is holy.

III. Embracing the World

The first two themes we find in Bonhoeffer’s late writings are, honestly, not too surprising given his situation. When a man has participated in a tyrannicide attempt and then spent years in prison because of that involvement, his writings might reflect theological themes that attempt to justify his actions and explain his position. But what makes the first two themes much more believable, at least for me personally, is that these themes are not met with a rejection of the world. On the contrary, they are met with an embracing of the world. For Bonhoeffer, one can accept death and suffering only when one has lived a full life, engaging and embracing the world in all of its glory.

As a boy growing up in a small town in a Baptist church, this sounded like lunacy. We had a saying then: “Don’t drink, smoke, curse, or chew, or go with girls who do.” We didn’t talk much about embracing he world. We were too busy pointing out what was wrong with it.

But in the face of death, Bonhoeffer asserts that Christians must embrace the world that God has created, because it is good. He writes, “The Christian, unlike the devotees of the redemption myths, has no last line of escape available from earthly tanks and difficulties into the eternal, but, like Christ himself, he must drink the earthly cup to the dregs, and only in doing so is the crucified and risen Lord with him, and he crucified and risen with Christ. This world must not be prematurely written off; in this the Old and New Testaments are one. Redemption myths arise from human boundary-experiences, but Christ takes hold of a man at the centre of his life.”⁸

For Bonhoeffer the church must stop trying to condemn the world and instead embrace it. Is the world flawed and fallen? Absolutely. But the world is going to move on as if without God; it does not need God, at least it doesn’t think it does. Only the church that can meet humanity at its strength is the church that can carry the gospel.

Bonhoeffer’s prison letters shocked readers in the 1960s when he mentioned a non-religious Christianity. They thought that he meant to do away with the church. But Bonhoeffer did not mean anything of the sort. He refers to the Pauline insistence that circumcision was not necessary for the earliest believers. In the same way, we cannot place a forced religion on top of God, even today. The church can, and should, exist. But it should not primarily exist to propel religion forth. It should exist to act for others and enjoy the sufferings of Christ while embracing this world that God has made.

The key phrase in the prison writings is simple: “Christ in a world come of age.” When the world has decided that it does not need any help from God to get along and move forward, where is the church and where is Christ? It cannot sit on the boundaries—trying to answer the questions of suffering and death—without fully living and existing in and with the world. God has made the world. God has blessed the world and said yes to it through his Son Jesus. The church is now to form Jesus’ presence in the world, even if that means a less than religious formation.

For too long the church has emphasized saving one’s soul and forgotten the world. But Jesus came preaching the kingdom of God. He wants his kingdom here; he wants the world to revel in grace, peace, love, and redemption. One last quote from Bonhoeffer, “Does the questions about saving one’s soul appear in the Old Testament at all? Aren’t righteousness and the Kingdom of God on earth the focus of everything, and isn’t it true that Romans 3:24 and following is not an individualistic doctrine of salvation, but the culmination of the view that God alone is righteous?”⁹

Jesus came because God loves the world. One can only experience holiness in death when one has loved the world as Jesus does and lived a life embracing the world that we inhabit.

So these three themes: vicarious representative action, suffering with Christ, and embracing the world; each form a specific challenge to the individual believer and to the church today. What does a church look like that truly loves the world more than its religion? What does a church do that wants to act on another’s behalf before God? What do Christians who imitate the life of Jesus and enter into suffering with him have to say to a world that is preoccupied with power and money and sex? These are the questions to be answered. Unfortunately for us, Bonhoeffer’s untimely death prevented us from hearing his thoughts. So we strive to answer them ourselves, now, because Christ needs to take form in the world, and the church is the only place where this can happen.

What, then, of holiness in death? Death is set apart by God, for it is a culmination of our lives. We can experience holiness in death only when we have lived the way of Jesus. The challenge for us now is to live as Bonhoeffer teaches—to allow Jesus to form among us—living so that we might die rightly…having lived a complet life for others with Christ in the world. Then, and only then, can we die with holiness.

Notes