thoughts on Dietrich Bonhoeffer, iconography, and Micah 6

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I have been reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s, “Life Together.”  Bonhoeffer was a Christian theologian and pastor writing during Nazi Germany.  He was a pacifist, and after his death, was later revealed to have been a part of a political group with plot to remove Adolf Hitler from power by means of violence.  This has been difficult for me to swallow for many years.

I have come to realize this:  I am reading and digesting Bonhoeffer’s Christianity in hindsight, and I am grateful and feel inspired to know his allegiance was vehemently NOT with the Nazi party, as a German.  I am wondering what I would have done as a citizen in Nazi German during the 30s and early 40s, if I would have spoken out or if I would have prayed silently in my home; if I would have stood alongside Jews, LGBTQ+, disabled, people of color, or if I would have stayed silent with the church that Hitler held to power.

This is bizarre, my friends:  the Christian church, at large, in Nazi Germany supported Adolf Hitler.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer did not, and he was hanged at Flossenbürg Concentration Camp along with those who he believed Jesus stood with.  Those who he believed Jesus was killed for.

I have this conviction deep in my gut, as I look at the recent photo of Donald Trump standing with a Bible in front of St. John’s Episcopal Parish, holding it like a gavel, a threat of bodily violence.  I have this deep burn in my throat and tears well to my eyes when I look at Jesus, a homeless, brown, Jew murdered publicly by Caesar Augustus’ military, contrasted now with this icon of the Church in America:  our white president, threatening military murders while holding a Bible.  I am so deeply ashamed for us.  I am so deeply, deeply disgusted for us.  My gut is tied up and my hands are shaking.

To those of us who worship the God of the weak, why did we place this man in power?

I am a Christian.  I am a pacifist.  I am pro-riot.  I am with Black Lives Matter.  I am a white, Christian, American, male, and I need you to understand.

I am vehemently NOT with Donald Trump.  As I tell stories to my children, and as we read history in 50 years about the fascist sentiments America held in the late 2020s, I will be ashamed if I did not allow myself to be “political” while also religious; I will be eternally at fault for standing aside and allowing the king of rats to weaponize our faith for state sanctioned murder.

I am a follower of Jesus Christ, a brown, homeless Jew, murdered publicly in State sanctioned torture, the God incarnate, Imago Dei.  And as a follower of this God and a believer in justice for all, I will NOT stand with Donald Trump, I will NOT stand with “All Lives Matter,” I will NOT stand with free speech for white supremacy, and I will NOT stand with State sanctioned police brutality.  I will not take any time to weigh my allegiance.  I will not silence your rage, my black neighbors.  I will stand with Black Lives, I will stand as Jesus did.

My American Church, silence your noisy and meaningless prayers.  Put down your bloody hands raised to a false idol of American normalcy.  Close the Gospel you have so flagrantly weaponized.

Pull your families into the streets and lift up those trodden on by the insidious and monstrous power that you have put in place.  Lay down your weapons and give your wealth without reproach; advocate for those who suffer.

You who hang crosses in your homes, take them down.  Frame instead, electric chairs, tear gas, and riot gear.  Paint your doors red, lest the God of the night should take your children as you have allowed Theirs’ to be taken and caged.

Weep and tear at your clothing; for, where there were once plowshares there are now swords.

You who have eaten the Eucharist and partaken of Communion, spit it out, you fools, lest you should gag on your own hypocrisy and suffer the damnation of your ignorance.

You baptized in our faith, shake off the icy waters poisoned by your nooses, whips, rubber bullets, and disdained apathy.

I have no pacificity left in my words, it has boiled with my blood into my hands to give strength in lifting up my neighbor.  My lips are parched, as is my complacent allegiance.  My God, help us.

We who hold responsibility, let us lie awake in our beds and weep.  Our God is one of Just Love, they are one of Radical Peace, they are one of Righteous Rage, and I pray for you that God will have pause.