So there seems to be energy around Bonhoeffer still (even if it is just to say that we should move on from Bonhoeffer). Instead of continuing the ever-growing comment section of the last post I thought I would write some thoughts in a new post. This means that people don’t need to read 40 comments before writing something. Before I make my main point I will however say that I am surprised at myself for returning to Bonhoeffer, for if you asked me a few weeks ago what I thought of his later writings I would have likely said that I thought they were mere fragments of thought done to death in the 60’s and that other thinkers have done the work that Bonhoeffer signaled and hinted at (thus rendering the letters of interest only for their historical value). And while part of me still thinks that might be true another part of me thinks of him in the same way that I think about Feuerbach, i.e. as an important transitional thinker. In particular Bonhoeffer opened up a way of thinking (or at least expressed it) that was not exhausted in the Radical Theology of the 60’s but which is a prophetic utterance concerning a much more virulent strain of theology that is vibrant and historically significant (what I am about to say relates to the great comment by Ian below – BTW I think Moot is a wonderful example of a community exploring this stuff).

Interestingly, Bonhoeffer does not attack religion as such. However he reflects that in the 20th century (though he sees it beginning in the 17th century) religion has become possible for less and less people because it has been problematical. Not because it has changed but because human beings have entered into a different epoch (my words not his, he talks of “man come of age”). In this new historical situation a religious expression of Christianity places God at the edges of human life as the Deus ex machina. Why? Because religion, for Bonhoeffer, is the belief in a metaphysical absolute from which everything hangs (onto-theology), and as human knowledge increases the more things in our existence do not require this metaphysical explanation. Religion is now exposed as advocating a God of the gaps. In addition to this the God of religion is only for those who feel a need to ask the metaphysical question, “Why”, and in a ‘world come of age”, this question is asked by fewer and fewer (a Nietzschian point par exellence). Indeed Bonhoeffer attacks with great passion those believers who would use the idea of death and illness to get people back to that metaphysical question (and even implicates existentialism and psychoanalysis in the same insidious project – which I would, of course, take issue with).

Bonhoeffer’s great insight in LPP as far as I can see, was to dimly perceive that, while religion was a predominant guise for Christianity throughout history this did not need to be the case – that Christianity could affirm all its central tenants without religion as he defined it (God could be affirmed without metaphysics – again he was not saying that this was ontologically better but rather was becoming historically nessesary). He saw religion as having served its time well, but which had finally reached its twilight.

This is interesting to me because I think it allows us to understand Fundamentalism in a different way. Namely, as an impotent reaction to the loss of religion. The attempt to place it back in the centre. Fundamentalism can thus be seen as the very evidence of the growing redundancy of religion. It is the violent kickback against the continual loss of ground that religion has had to concede in recent years. But for Bonhoeffer there is a way beyond an anemic religious Christianity that places God at the edge and a violent fundamentalism which impotently seeks to place religion in the centre and this is what he was hinting at. It has been left to others to explore what this alternative is (but for Bonhoeffer it was deeply Christocentric and exhibited itself in an unwavering concern for the world – just to relate to the important question that Lori asked).

I have recently been re-reading the later Bonhoeffer to help with my current writing and have been staggered by the insight contained in many of his letters from prison. Because he was writing under difficult conditions and only begining to formulate his thoughts on ‘religionless Christianity’ his writing is often fragmented, frustratingly embryonic and wed too tightly with his previous perspectives. However it feels, while reading these letters, that we are witnessing a metamorphosis taking place before our very eyes. It is as if we are glimpsing the very moment when a caterpillar begins to reconstitute itself in the process of becoming a butterfly. Yet, as we know, before the transformation was complete his life was snuffed out.

His letters are clearly marked by a serious reading of Nietzsche and can thus be seen as one of the early theological attempts to reflect on what faith looks like after ‘the death of God’. In these letters he imagines a church radically transformed, one which rethinks, at a core (ontological) level, its purpose and expression.

I am sticking my neck out here, but I believe that we are beginning to witness the development of dynamic faith collectives which Bonhoeffer would have recognised as concrete manifestations of his lonely prison thoughts (though there are fewer of these groups than one might imagine – for instance I do not include the vast swarm of neo-evangelical, crypto-evangelistic communities which so often cloud the horizon). While ikon, the group of which I am a part, is not in any way perfect I see it as a key experiment in this new movement (others include Aldea in Tuscon and The Garden in Brighton).

Anyway, here is a quote from Bonhoeffer (which I might use as the opening quote in the book I am currently working on),

“And we cannot be honest unless we recognise that we have to live in the world etsi deus non daretur [even if there were no God]. And this is just what we do recognise – before God! God himself compels us to recognise it. So our coming of age leads us to a true recognition of our situation before God. God would have us know that we must live as men who manage our lives without him. The God who is with us is the God who forsakes us (Mark 15:34). The God who lets us live in the world without the working hypothesis of God is the God before whom we stand continually. Before God and with God we live without God. God lets himself be pushed out of the world on to the cross. He is weak and powerless in the world, and that is precisely the way, the only way, in which he is with us and helps us. Matt. 8.17 makes it quite clear that Christ helps us, not by virtue of his omnipotence, but by virtue of his weakness and suffering”.

I would recommend John Caputo’s wonderful book, The Weakness of God to see an example of how this can be fleshed out.

Here is a little parable from the book I am currently working on (Dis-courses),

Many centuries ago a small island was attacked by the dictator of a neighboring country, a country with vast resources and a mighty army. Upon landing on the island this army moved with little resistance toward the islands only city. With less than day to decide what action to take the leaders of the island desperately discussed what could be done. They were hugely outnumbered, out resourced and out skilled, so defeat looked inevitable.

The leaders never took a decision without first consulting with their religious Oracle so they approached her small dwelling on the edge of the city, informing her of what was taking place. In response the Oracle spent an entire day in deep mediation before finally coming to the leaders with a heavy heart saying, “I am so very sorry but I have been told that God Himself has joined our enemies and has put all of His power at their disposal”.

This message, as one might expect, sent deep fear and trembling through the heart of the leaders. In response one proclaimed, “We must surrender now and pray that they will have mercy”. Then another responded, “No, let us make ready our fastest ships and set sail with as many people as we can, perhaps we can sneak past their navy while it is dark”. But the chief remained calm through the discussions and finally said, “please trust me, I know what to do, I will bring us through this dark hour”. The chief was well respected by all and so they reluctantly agreed to do what he ordered.

That day he called together all the men of the city who could fight. He then sent those with young children home followed by those who had been married for less than a year. Then he asked that only those who wanted to fight stay. By the end of this process the remaining men numbered less than 1000, a tiny group in comparison to the army they would soon face.

These brave men were then armed and told to march behind their chief toward the encroaching army. That day there was a bloody battle and many lost their lives. But, to everyone’s utter surprise, by the end of the day the dictator’s seemingly impenetrable army had been dealt a devastating blow and turned in retreat.

The entire island was dumbstruck as they heard of how the army had run in fear back to their own land. The Oracle however was more confused than most for she knew what had been kept secret from the people: that God had joined the side of the enemy and fought with them. So the Oracle approached the Chief and said, “how did you know to fight when the odds where impossibly high and God Himself was pitted against you”.

But the chief merely smiled and replied, “your message was the very thing that persuaded me to fight rather than flee. For surely you know that it does not matter in the slightest where God is located in a fight… when God gets involved in a battle the weak and oppressed will always win”.