Westminster Abbey
Romans 8 12-25; Matthew 13 24-30, 36-43
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21 July 2002

un-documented

21 July 2002
Romans 8:12-25; Matthew 13:24-30; 36-43

If you entered the Abbey this morning through the Great West End door and happened to look up at the outside façade as you did so, you may have noticed the ten statues of twentieth-century Christian martyrs that were unveiled in July 1998. These statues represent Christian martyrs of the past century, of which there have been a significantly large number around the world. They are a striking reminder that Christian martyrdom is by no means something of the distant past. Some estimates are that more Christians have died for their faith during the twentieth century than during any previous period in church history. The statues are also a striking reminder that these martyrs they have come from many different cultures, countries, social backgrounds, and church denominations.

One of the statues is that of the German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Bonhoeffer was an ardent opponent of Adolf Hitler, the Fuehrer of the German Third Reich. He was imprisoned by the Gestapo in 1943 for his anti-Nazi activities, especially helping Jews escape from Germany. But at the time of his arrest, the Gestapo did not know that Bonhoeffer was part of a high-level conspiracy to assassinate Hitler, a conspiracy that was located, strange as it may seem, in the headquarters of the German Military Intelligence.

The attempted assassination took place on July 20th, 1944, that is, fifty-eight years ago yesterday. After the plot failed the Gestapo was able to trace and arrest all those who were involved. Once it was known that Bonhoeffer was part of the conspiracy he was moved to a special prison. Later, on the personal orders of Adolf Hitler, Bonhoeffer and the other conspirators were condemned to death. After a mock trial for treason, Bonhoeffer was murdered in the concentration camp at Flossenburg in Bavaria on 9th April 1945.

Martyrdom has attracted a great deal of media attention in recent months, especially with regard to those who have been involved in suicide bombings in the Middle East. Whatever we may think of such activities, it is remarkable that young people should be willing to surrender their lives in this way, welcoming death for the sake of a cause they believe is sanctioned by God, and in the belief that they will enter paradise by doing so.

In the early centuries of Christianity there were people who, like these suicide bombers, also sought martyrdom. Even though they did not do so in the same way, they did seek martyrdom in order to share in Christ’s glory. For them martyrdom was the gateway to heaven. The church was then and remains today reluctant to recognize such martyrdom. Neither Bonhoeffer nor any of the other ten martyrs celebrated on the Great West Door sought martyrdom, nor did they see their deeds as a gateway to paradise. The word martyr literally means a witness, and for Christians a martyr is a witness to Jesus Christ. Martyrs are not seeking to attract attention to themselves or their own cause, but like John the Baptist they point to Jesus as the one who gives himself fully and freely for the redemption of the world. The first Christian martyrs were put to death because they refused to worship Caesar, confessing rather that Jesus is Lord over all of life.

Bonhoeffer’s martyrdom has perplexed many because it came, in the end, as a result of his political involvement in the plot to kill Hitler. For this reason many have found it difficult to regard him as a martyr. But all the martyrs represented on the Great West Door of his Abbey were engaged in the struggle for human rights, opponents of dictatorial rule and religious bigotry, and victims of political oppression and persecution. `Who dies for justice’ wrote John of Salisbury, a twelfth century Christian theologian, `dies a martyr, a defender of the cause of Christ.

We acknowledge Bonhoeffer as a true martyr because his whole life became an authentic witness to Christ and to God’s justice. Bonhoeffer himself recognized that his involvement in the plot to kill Hitler was problematic for Christians who tried to live by the Sermon on the Mount. He recognized that his involvement in the plot could only be justified in a very desperate situation when few options remained. Yet it was an action that arose out of his discipleship and commitment to Christ. As he himself had written that `when Christ calls us he bids us come and die.’

Bonhoeffer took seriously the fact that every Christian is baptised into the death of Christ, for it is only through dying with Christ that we are raised to new life in him. He died because he freely chose to surrender his own status, his own privileges, and to suffer with the victims of injustice. He knew that he could not stand by and do nothing in the face of immense evil. To do nothing was not only irresponsible, but un-Christian. Bonhoeffer’s example is a challenge to all of us who are bystanders in the face of injustice. It is a challenge to recognise that as Christians we are called to be faithful in our witness to Christ, and that this implies faithfulness in the struggle for justice and peace in the world.

Talk about martyrdom and costly discipleship, about dying with Christ, about struggling for justice, makes many of us today feel a little uncomfortable and uneasy. This is not how the world sees things at all. Is this what Christianity is really about? What about self-fulfillment? What about peace and joy, and enjoying life to the full? Surely all this talk about suffering in the hope of future glory is masochistic? Or, maybe, it is something that only the great saints and martyrs can understand and practice.

Few people enjoyed life to the full as did Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He delighted in the world, he loved the earth, he enjoyed the `good things of life’, and was often the life and soul of the party. He loved art and music, and reading good books; he loved teaching his students and sharing in their lives; he made and kept good friends; and he basked in the warmth of his parent’s home and his extended family. At the age of 39, Bonhoeffer fell deeply in love with a beautiful young women, Maria von Wedemeyer. Bonhoeffer and Maria looked forward in great anticipation to consummating that love. That was not to be. For Bonhoeffer was imprisoned soon after his engagement to Maria.

Understandably he went through bouts of deep depression in prison, and as the end drew near, we can sense from his letters a growing awareness that in all probability he would have to drink the cup of sorrow. But the most surprising note that is struck in his letters from prison is not that of despair but of hope, of confidence in God’s love and purpose for the world. And that, it seems to me, is the sign of a true witness to Jesus Christ who is the hope of the world. His martyrdom, as all true martyrdom, was the affirmation of life amidst death, of justice in the face of oppression, and perhaps above all, of hope in God in a time of hopelessness and despair.

In the only passage in his letters from prison in which he comments on martyrdom, Bonhoeffer downplays his own suffering as insignificant. And concludes with these words to his friend Eberhard Bethge: `Now that’s enough for today… Keep well, enjoy the beautiful country, spread joy (hilaritas) around you, and keep it to yourself as well.’ I suspect that that is what he would also say to us today.

In that remarkable passage we read today from Paul’s letter to the Romans, the dominant note that is struck amidst the awareness of suffering is that of hope. For it is in hoping in Christ, Paul tells us, that we are saved. Even though we do not seek martyrdom, we recognise that the sufferings of the present are but a prelude to the glory of God that will be revealed.

I consider that the sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.

Christian hope, the hope that characterizes true martyrs, is not shallow optimism but a way of expressing confidence in God despite the circumstances that surround us. Surely this is what we need to rediscover for our times, the hope that will save the world. That is why we do well to reflect on the lives of true martyrs, martyrs who do not seek death as a way to paradise, but who live for justice and peace, and die in the confidence that God will bring healing and salvation out of suffering.

True martyrs are ordinary people like ourselves, but people made extraordinary by the Holy Spirit. Their example is not meant to shame or overwhelm us, but to call us to faithfulness. And in doing so we can only cast ourselves onto God’s mercy and grace, recognizing that whatever happens we are always in the hands of God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ who loved us and gives himself for us that we may have life to the full even in death.

Bonhoeffer’s execution took place in the gray dawn of 9th April 1945. The doctor at Flossenburg Concentration Camp was one of the last to see him. Ten years later he wrote that he had seen Bonhoeffer kneeling on the floor of his cell at prayer. He was then led to the place of execution. Again he said a short prayer and then `climbed the steps to the gallows, brave and composed. In the almost fifty years that I have worked as a doctor, I have hardly ever seen a man die so entirely submissive to the will of God.’