http://peterfaur.com/2012/12/18/study-guides-for-dietrich-bonhoeffers-the-cost-of-discipleship#axzz4378B55KY
It was a beautiful evening tonight, so after walking my Australian Shepherd pup (Jewels) and cleaning the barn I sat on the deck and began my reading of the text, specifically with the memoir by Leibholz. The memoir of course is a review of Dietrich's life as already mentioned both in Forum and my last entry; however, it also includes a poem written by Bonhoeffer while he was imprisoned in Tegel. If you don't know the story, he was a beloved prisoner in Hitler's WWII. His guards and his fellow prisoners all looked to him for spiritual and uplifting guidance in the face of unbelievably cruel and unreasonable trials. It is even said that many prisoners were brought to an understanding of Christ in their last days by the steadfast warmth of his calmness and control; "like a giant before men". I find it so human, therefore, that in the midst of all of his devotion to the people around him in this prison that he wrote the following poem:
“Who am I?”
Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a Squire from his country-house.
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a Squire from his country-house.
Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.
I used to speak to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equally, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.
I bore the days of misfortune
equally, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.
Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?
Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person to-day and to-morrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Am I one person to-day and to-morrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, 0 God, I am Thine!
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, 0 God, I am Thine!
It is hard to write "blog entries" after reading such powerful words as these. I think we can all identify with Dietrich. I think I will just leave you with his beautiful poetry for tonight. I look forward to tomorrow and the beginning of the readings of Bonhoeffer's comments on the Introduction for his book!
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