Bonhoeffer Icon
Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash
American Protestants invoke Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s name as an act of resistance. His image and words are everywhere: pulpits, seminary classrooms, internet memes, and book clubs. “We are living in a Bonhoeffer moment,” we proclaim. Nothing changes. Most of us continue our comfortable lives, untouched by the forces we condemn. (I’m writing this from my home, not from a prison cell or a tent in Guantanamo. Please forgive my sins.)
Bonhoeffer’s legacy is that of a liberal Protestant Che Guevara. His life is more of a rhetorical weapon in culture wars, invoked not for genuine risk but to lend weight to ethical arguments. Bonhoeffer did more than make theological statements or stop at writing The Cost of Discipleship. He actively opposed Hitler, smuggled intelligence, and resisted a dictatorship at significant personal risk, ultimately paying with his execution in the Flossenbürg concentration camp.
I want to ask: Is labeling the current political crisis a “Bonhoeffer Moment,” a clear call to action, or is it another muddled phrase emerging from America’s already complicated religious landscape?
One frustrating aspect of Bonhoeffer’s work is his tendency toward theological abstraction. He uses terms like ‘the ultimate’ and ‘the penultimate,’ as well as ‘divine mandates’ and ‘vicarious representative action,’ phrases that excite religious nerds but offer little help to real people facing oppression. Ethics during a fascist moment should not resemble a seminary debate but work like a scalpel, precise and unsentimental.
Sometimes, he refines his language and shifts from theologian to philosopher. He recognizes that during political crises, a well-meaning middle often calls for moderation, compromise, or ‘choosing the lesser evil.’ Bonhoeffer sees through this indecision with insight. He rebuffs the cowardice inherent in utilitarian reasoning, which would require him to assess levels of evil rather than reject the principle of evil outright. In contrast to his earlier ambiguity, this is his best work. Bonhoeffer asserts that the state loses its legitimacy when it neglects justice, directly challenging the notion that one must ‘work within the system’ to lessen harm.
Bonhoeffer’s sharpest criticisms target those who fail to speak out—notably, church leaders who utter empty platitudes. For Bonhoeffer, taking a public stand, attending a protest, or issuing a statement is not the same as risking one’s life for a cause. Recycled cliches about injustice and nonviolence conveyed on letterhead and in video statements are, in effect, no better than silence.
Bonhoeffer took action. He joined the resistance and paid the ultimate price for his defiance. He transcends being a pastor or ethicist; he exemplifies the embodiment of courage. Let’s be clear: ethics demands courage when it evolves from an academic exercise into a struggle for civilization.
Bonhoeffer’s Ethics highlights that moral compromise amounts to complicity. Selecting a ‘lesser evil’ vanishes when we understand evil as a political option. Above all, he emphasizes that ethical reflection without corresponding action is vanity.
Bonhoeffer’s life, more than his theology, offers the most profound lesson. He could have navigated the safety of abstraction through writing, yet he chose to resist. His ultimate challenge lies not in his writings but in his deeds. The measure of ethical clarity is found not in the comfort of our words but in the ramifications of our actions.