In honor of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s birthday, I am cross-posting this from the Living Lutheran blog by one of the greatest historians of American religious history of our time, Martin E. Marty. 

Visitors today can still imagine something of what it must have been like for a captive to squirm or pace in the 10-foot by 7-foot floor space of a dismal cell at a Nazi prison called Tegel.

All the senses can come into play during such imagining. For instance, the odor of the whole third floor in which this cell stood, the prisoner’s pen for a year and a half, was barely endurable.

From that cramped space designed to kill creativity and bury hope, however, there issued letters and papers that became the substance of one of the great testimonial books of the 20th century.

Since there is so little to observe in the shadowed picture of this room, we are left other reminders and, later, his words written there, to fill it in with a human portrait, that of the author.

He was Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the best-known German Lutheran pastor, who resisted Hitler and paid for his actions and expressions with his life.

He was a man of many paradoxes: a longtime pacifist, something that Lutherans were not supposed to be; an inconsistent pacifist who became a conspirator in an assassination plot against Adolf Hitler; a thinker who took citizenship seriously but technically was guilty of treason; a still young world traveler who did his most memorable work in this cramping cell.

Many who view the photo of this enclosure do so knowing in advance, from his writing and that of his friends, something of what was occurring in his mind and in the cell. His letters tell us, but in any case it is not difficult to conjure up a sense of what his aloneness meant to the confined man, who was a naturally gregarious and friendly sort.

For a time he was unspoken to, even by guards. In his first days in the cell, they tossed in his meager breakfasts. They were forbidden to recognize the humanity of such a locked-in person.

We learn from a letter that succumbing to despair was tempting to the prisoner and that at a low moment suicide was even an option, because he considered himself to be “basically” dead.

We learn that, instead of killing himself, he began to write, especially as his material circumstances eventually, if only slightly, improved. Many of his notes, of course, were personal letters, some passed on through authorities and some smuggled out and then transmitted to his best friend, Eberhard Bethge, a pastor who saved them.

No publisher would have seen a potentially attractive book in the letters or his other various jottings, musings and poems written in prison.

Against all odds, a book was being drafted. After World War II, Eberhard — who had hidden the scraps and scribblings in the days of danger — evaluated and organized them.

This meant deciphering scripts and arranging pages to fashion the book that the English-speaking world knows as Letters and Papers from Prison.

Issuing from that 70-square-foot cell, this little work came to be known, read and used around the world well into a new century. While the physical setting of its letters and papers was a place capable of inducing claustrophobia, spiritually these contents served readers everywhere as a testimony to openness, possibility and hope.

The letters and papers from prison reveal much about Bonhoeffer’s spiritual life and vocation, and they served a new generation of collegians and seminarians who were looking for models of witness and courage.

Martin E. Marty is professor emeritus of religious history at the University of Chicago. He is the winner of the National Book Award and the author of more than 50 books. He has recently written the biography: Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Letters and Papers from Prison.

Social Darwinism

There’s a debate raging in the Seventh-day Adventist Church about creation vs. evolution, particularly as its taught in higher education, e.g. La Sierra University.  I am not about to get into that issue here.

I am presenting a theology of justice tomorrow at CrossWalk U. titled, “Justice Isn’t a Four Letter Word”. In preparing, I came across an idea in N.T. Wright’s Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. Wright points out an irony in the creation vs. evolution debate. Keep in mind Wright isn’t talking about Seventh-day Adventists specifically.

The irony is that those American churches that protest most vocally against the teaching of Darwinism in their schools are often, in their public policies, supporting a kind of economic Darwinism, the survival of the fittest in world markets and military power.

- N.T. Wright
Surprised by Hope, p. 219-220

So my question: If the church won’t “flinch” in our stand for creation, will we be consistent? If we stand against Darwinism, will we stand against it in all forms, even social Darwinism? If not, it seems to me our convictions about creation have little real world significance other than a house of cards, propping up our beliefs.

Wittingly or unwittingly, as a theologian he has exposed himself to this Word. He, at any rate, cannot possibly hide from himself the fact that this Word is directed precisely to his own world. This Word concerns mankind in all times and places, the theologian in his own time and place, and the world in its occupation with the routine Problems of the everyday. This Word challenges the world in which X, Y, and Z appear-with their own big words-to have the say and to determine the lot of all men and things as well as the lot of theologians. While the theologian reads the newspaper, he cannot forget that he has just read Isaiah 40 or John 1 or Romans 8. He, at any rate, cannot suppress the knowledge that the Word of God speaks not only of an infinitely deeper need but also of an infinitely higher promise than the sum total of all the needs and promises characteristic of his time and place. He cannot suppress his awareness that this Word is not only the word of God’s verdict and judgment upon all human existence and its perversion, but much more the word of God’s gracious covenant with man. He knows that this covenant is not only planned but already established and fulfilled. The Word to which he is exposed treats of man’s completed reconciliation with God. It speaks of the righteousness by which all human unrighteousness is already overcome, of the peace that has made all human wars (whether cold or hot) already superfluous and impossible, of the order by which a limit has already been set to all human disorder.

Source: Barth, Karl, Evangelical Theology: An Introduction, Eeardmans, 1963, p. 74-84. [http://solomon.dkbl.alexanderstreet.com/]

Trinity by Andrei Rublev, 1425-1427

Earlier this week I posted the first part of my reflections from the 2009 Emergent Theological Conversation with Jürgen Moltmann in Libertyville, IL.  Here’s the second part:

On Doing Theology:

1. “Truth is found in unhindered dialogue.”
According to Moltmann, Karl Barth wasn’t good at dialogue with people who didn’t share his presuppositions. The professor saw this as a weakness in Barth’s theology. Instead, Moltmann tried to develop his theology through dialogue with people on the outside. We are not just doing theology for Christians, we are doing theology for everyone, he told us (I’m paraphrasing). I wonder, how open I am to “unhindered” dialogue as a pastor? Where are my theological conversations taking place? Who am I in dialogue with right now? Am I always talking to people who think like me?

2. “Which statement is closest to Jesus Christ?”
When we get to statements in Scripture that seem contradictory, such as Paul talking about women remaining silent in worship, vs. there is no longer male or female, we are all one in Christ (Gal. 3:28). Moltmann says, I ask “which statement is closer to Jesus Christ?” I wonder if this hermeneutic could open up a new way of dealing with these challenges, even when it may seem to some of us that Scripture is clear, e.g. ordaining women or homosexuality? I am just wondering …

On the Trinity:

1. “Christian community is an icon of the Trinity.”
Unlike most western theologians, eastern theologians spent more time developing the relationship of the trinity, often illustrated as a family seated around a table (see Andrei Rublev’s 15th century painting). Moltmann calls this a social doctrine of the Trinity, and really a theology of Trinitarian love. The church is called to live this social doctrine as one heart, one body, one soul, a living witness to the Trinity. This is the essence of being the church, yet a daunting challenge. I’m thinking here of Bonhoeffer’s ideas in Life Together, true Christian community being the place where people I really don’t like seem to always show up.

2. “We believe in the Trinity, but we also live in the Trinity.”
It’s probably one of my favorite statements from the professor during the conversation. He was talking about the early Christians using the Abba prayer, referring to God as “Daddy” like Jesus does in the Gospels. Moltmann claims this eventually changed to “our Father.” However it looses the sense of intimacy we have with the Trinity. The Abba prayer moves us directly into the Trinity. He described them as three rooms—each giving room to the other. When we except other people we offer them room, we offer them space. That will preach!

In my next post I’ll share some reflections on Jürgen Moltmann and God’s pathos, God’s self-limitations, and eschatology. If you’d like to check out some other reflections from people at the Moltmann conversation, check out these blogs:

Ryan Bell who blogs over at Intersections has a good synopsis of the conversation  for the Spectrum blog. There’s reflections by Julie Clawson, Blake Huggins, and Joe Bumbulis on their blogs. Matt Kelley also has a good list of people blogging reflections at The Truth the Best I know It.

Tony Jones talks with Professor Jürgen Moltman

I thought I’d share some reflections from the 2009 Emergent Theological Conversation with Jürgen Moltmann last week—one of the best Emergent gatherings I’ve attended. Props to JoPa Productions and the First Presbyterian Church of Libertyville, IL., for making this happen. Our two days with Professor Moltmann gave me a deeper appreciation for this man … and he made me proud of my German heritage too!

Our time with the professor was sweet, as was the time we had in conversation with others. I made some new friends, also found some new friends to follow on Twitter. Speaking of Twittering, I thoroughly enjoyed the Moltmann Twub that was set up to micro-blog the event. You can still go back and read through all the Twubs, but I thought I’d take a few posts to share some of my favorite Moltmann Tweets and my own thoughts from the conversation. So here it goes …

On His Autobiography:

1. My theology begins in testimony:
I am currently reading Jürgen Moltmann’s autobiography, A Broad Place. It’s a good example of an idea Moltmann expressed at the beginning of our conversation—our theology begins in testimony, i.e., our stories shape our theology. Theology doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Anyone who attempts to do theology, must step back and ask, “How does my story influence the way I see God?”

2. The blooms of a cherry tree changed my life:
Moltmann’s experiences as a P.O.W. in post-war Great Britain opened up a new world to him. It was during this time that he became a Christian and developed a passion for theology. A large part of this was due to the hospitality Moltmann received from other Christians.  The blooms on a cherry tree in his P.O.W. camp expressed the new life he was experiencing, and it freed his soul from imprisonment. Till this day he feels weakness in his knees thinking about it.

Getting "A Broad Place" signed by the Professor

3. God is someone who understands me.
The professor experienced unimaginable horrors during the war. There were no words to describe what he was feeling.  As Moltmann studied Scripture in the his P.O.W. camp, it was Psalm 39 and Jesus’ final words on the cross, “My God why have you forsaken me?”, that gave him the words he needed. The God forsaken Christ, comforted Moltmann. “Here is someone who understands me”, he said, “Jesus freed me from the dark pit of my soul.”

4. What would the people think about it?
The development of Moltmann’s theology eventually led him to Latin America to study the liberation movements. During his time there he made a profound discovery that influenced his theology—theologians need to listen to the people! When a theological thought occurs, one should ask, “What would the people think about it?” Professional theologians must go down to the people to do their theology, ask their questions, and look for their answers.

In my next post I’ll reflect on Moltmann’s thoughts on doing theology and the relationship of the Trinity.