“VOICES IN THE NIGHT”

I found the above gem (pictured on top of the greatest book of all!) in our up north home where we recently vacationed for ten days.  Our northern home is the only place where I never take books, because so many of our books remained up there when we moved to Southern Wisconsin four plus years ago.  We brought some sixty-eight boxes of books down with us when we moved, and they are now mingling on our shelves alongside dozens more which we’ve purchased since 2009.  Electronic devices and gadgets will never replace books in my life!

Many of our books have a history of wherever I bought them—a bookstore, antique mall, online sources, library sales, or the quintessential Mother Lode Rummage Sale.  We have a lot of books bequeathed by family members.  With gift books, I can normally recall the donor.  But VOICES IN THE NIGHT is enigmatic because I cannot recall ever seeing it, until I found it lying on a living room table in our Northern Hill House.  Maybe an angel popped in and dropped the book off when no one was looking.

I scooped up that book, began reading it, brought it back home to Nashotah, and I have been re-reading and musing over it ever since.  German Lutheran pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer lived from 1906 to 1945.  Bonhoeffer vigorously opposed National Socialism and the anti-Semitism which insidiously brainwashed German culture via universities, writers, state sanctioned churches, and theorists—along with deliberate agitation among workers, community leaders, and finally the unconscionable politics and policies of Hitler’s Third Reich.

According to a sermon by Pastor John Luhmann posted on http://sovereignhopechurch.com/ :  “Bonhoeffer’s driving purpose was to be faithfully engaged with God and the world.  This sense of responsibility led him to play a prominent role in . . . . the conspiracy and assassination attempts against Hitler, involvements which would significantly shape his life as a disciple of Jesus Christ . . . .”

While sympathetic with the assassination plot, Bonhoeffer was imprisoned on the grounds of “subversions of armed forces”; he had discouraged young men from joining the military.  His two year incarceration culminated in his execution on April 9th, 1945—within earshot of advancing American troops who, just a few days later, liberated the very village where Dietrich Bonhoeffer died.

Bonhoeffer’s prison poems plus excerpts from letters to his fiancée, Maria, and his friend, Eberharde Bethge, reflect his deepest thoughts and feelings concerning his own life, his family and church, the value of freedom, and the possibility (finally turned probability) of his pending death.  All of the Bonhoeffer’s writings in this slim volume are powerful.  But the poem Nächtliche Stimmen (Voices in the Night) is classic in its poignant sense of despair over circumstances coupled with Bonhoeffer’s analysis of his role in an assassination plot.  In the poem, he asserts that he knows he is guilty before God, but he refuses to acknowledge guilt before man.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer ends the poem with these words:  “. . . until our day dawns, we shall hold our ground.”

Other poems reveal the solidarity of Bonhoeffer’s faith in the Savior, along with his passion for and commitment to the Holy Bible.  As he realizes that death is fast approaching, he knows that through death he will finally be free!

VOICES IN THE NIGHT . . . The Prison Poems of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, is translated by a British pastor, Edwin Robertson, who has invested decades in a study of Bonhoeffer’s life.  With each poem, the translator presents insights into the work—and historical documentary is also included in the book.  I cannot say enough about this treasure.  In fact, I really cannot say anything more because the book and the man who wrote the poems say it all!

While Hitler was not opposed to a watered-down version of once professing Christian churches, those members of German churches who did not compromise with the Nazi regime were called The Confessing Church.  These (including Roman Catholics and Protestants) remained firm in their doctrinal confession of faith; countless individuals were executed either in Nazi prisons—or in the gas chambers along with God’s chosen, the Jews.

I would be insulting the intelligence of anyone reading this blog, if I were to present a detailed account of the parallels between Nazi Germany in the 1930s and 40s and the United States of America in 2014.  The comparison is a colossal DUH to anyone whose brain is engaged!

Encroaching National Socialism, bleeding heart and out-of-touch academia, perverted morals, situation ethics, tolerance of Islam, rising anti-Semitism, and the erosion of our U.S. Constitution:  you connect the dots!  I believe the major dot-connector is the present, rampantly apostate, totally watered-down, once-Christian Church in America—and the ever-growing stigma against those of us who are fundamental Bible believers.

Our twenty-one year old grandson, Tyler, a student at Columbia International University (formerly Columbia Bible College) recently encouraged me greatly with the reminder that, down through history, persecution has always strengthened the Church of Jesus Christ.

May God send the cleansing, purifying wind of His Holy Spirit across our land to unite Christians in a return to the Word—and a joyous anticipation of the freedom we will have when we meet the Lord Jesus Christ face to face!  May we continue to “hold our ground”, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer did in the perilous days of the Third Reich.

Margaret L. Been, April 2014

NOTE:  Along with the above-reviewed book, I recommend a powerful drama, THE BEAMS ARE CREAKING, by Douglas Anderson.  The play capsulizes the political issues of the day as viewed through Dietrich Bonhoeffer and his friends, while Dietrich was in the Nazi prison.  We saw this play over twenty years ago, presented by a small theatre group in Milwaukee.  The play ends with a soul-stirring performance of Martin Luther’s magnificent hymn, A Mighty Fortress is Our God.

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He is RISEN! He is ALIVE!

Before our last presidential election, President Obama stated that “Al Qaeda is on the run.”  And just recently, Al Qaeda staged a public demonstration in the country of Yemen—telling the world that Islamic terrorism is stronger than ever before.  Al Qaeda spokesmen declared that they will defeat THE CROSS, and that THE CROSS is represented by America; therefore America is their prime target.  These words, ominous as they may be in their tragic potential, did not terrorize me one bit—because I know in my heart and mind THE CROSS of Jesus Christ will never be defeated.  THE CROSS is victorious!

We are living in “perilous times”, as predicted in II Timothy 3:1.  Ever since a certain couple was ousted from a garden, there have been perilous times.  Yet a study of prophecy in light of world events indicates that peril on all fronts is ramping up to what may be a prelude to Christ’s return.  He has defeated sin and death, through His death on THE CROSS and His bodily RESURRECTION—which we Christians will celebrate this coming Sunday, just as we celebrate THE RESURRECTION every day of our lives.

This week I’ve been musing over events leading to THE RESURRECTION of our Lord Jesus Christ:  the perfidy of the crowds in Jerusalem, the travesty of evil religious leaders, the rotten political scene as exhibited in the illegal and phony trials which our Lord endured, the cruel oppression of Rome, and of course the unspeakable horrors of Jesus’ death on Calvary.

As I consider the downfall of our nation and the recent scandals which our government has largely ignored I recall how Jesus was born, lived, and died—yes, and ROSE—in the midst of a perilous, sin-ridden world characterized by evil.  Yet none of that evil could defeat Him.  Instead, His Word spread—and has flourished in many places over some two thousand years.

THE CROSS, always a symbol of victory, prevails.  It will never be defeated or obliterated.  Down through history, right up to (and including) my own lifetime, many have tried:  Hitler, Stalin, myriads of angry atheists around the globe, and now Al Qaeda.  Nations will crumble and fall, as portrayed in Isaiah 40: 15:  “Behold, the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and are counted as the small dust of the balance; behold, He taketh up the isles as a very little thing.”  But THE CROSS will prevail!

Our Lord is victorious.  He is a personal God who desires the salvation of every single person.  A personal photo—just taken this very afternoon on the maternity floor of a local hospital—expresses what THE CROSS, and RESURRECTION are all about!

“The thief cometh not but to steal, and kill, and to destroy; I am come that they might have life and that they might have it more abundantly.”  John 10:10

THE CROSS AND THE RESURRECTION ARE ALL ABOUT LIFE!  He is Risen!  He is Alive!  He is LIFE!

Margaret L. Been, April 2014

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“Lo, then would I wander off . . . .”

“And I said, ‘Oh that I had wings like a dove!  For then I would fly away, and be at rest.  Lo, then would I wander far off, and remain in the wilderness.’ ”  Psalm 55:6-7

David was intimidated and beleaguered by his enemies when he wrote this plaintive Psalm.  Yet those of us who love solitude, and seek it with a passion, can echo the words:  “For then I would fly away and be at rest.” 

Numerous are the critics of the Kaufman family who set off with a baby and a toddler on a 30-something foot sailing vessel, with the goal of crossing the Pacific.  But for the response of the U. S. Navy in San Diego and other rescuers, this family might be added to the endless list of tragic current events.  Yet I love the name of their craft, REBEL HEART, and something innate draws me to this family.  Although life-threatening adventure has never been my forté, a passion for solitude is an integral factor in my DNA.  I identify with the need to “wander off”—even when country roads, inland waters, and forest trails are more in line with my instincts than the Pacific Ocean.

When I grew up in the 30s and 40s, solitude was easily accessible.  We had a quiet household, and I could always hide under a chair or, by the time I was 8 years old, in a tree.  Our only “devices” were:  a telephone, a radio (in a cabinet with a phonograph record player), a doorbell, and a clock which did nothing more than tell the time.  The understanding that every individual on earth needed space and time “to wander off” was a given in our home, and we respected each other’s privacy.

Today I wonder how many younger people (with the exception of a few individualistic types like the Kaufmans) even begin to comprehend what solitude actually is, let alone want to pursue it.  An astonishing amount of everyday life is social, groupy, organized, and pre-planned—frequently controlled by the detached stroke of a finger on a device.

I see people striding the park path outside our front door, with eyes and ears (or both) literally glued to whatever device at hand.  Do they hear the mourning dove in the bush, or the sand hill cranes yodeling overhead in the clouds?  Do they see the fat, pregnant buds on the chestnut tree a few feet from the path?  When May wafts in, will the device-laden striders even bother to inhale and exclaim over the perfume of the French lilacs which abound in our neighborhood?  Will the device-embellished ears be able (or even want!) to hear the fountain in our local pond, or the redwings nesting in the reeds beside our local lake?

Our park path is lovely, bordered by a nature preserve on the east side.  It deserves strollers, as well as striders—some of whom may be hustling along for the sake of good health.  Strollers like me also walk for health—soul health, which I happen to think is even more vital (and certainly more eternally valuable) than the beneficial aspect of body maintenance.  Yet the majority of park users stride rather than stroll.

I often wonder what the present generation of activity-driven, device-dependent, socially-oriented individuals will do when they add a few years and the inevitable stresses of life to their résumés of non-stop everything—everything but substance for soul and spirit, that is.  I visualize that an indescribable dryness will set in—a thirst which no material goods, or frenzy for social contacts and career advancements, will ever quench in a million years.

DRY, DRY, DRY!  The absence of everything but perhaps a desire to “wander off”—without even beginning to fathom how that may be done!  No turned upside down chair to hide under.  No metaphorical tree.  No hypothetical REBEL HEART sailboat.  A park path perhaps, but not even the foggiest knowledge of how to stroll rather than stride on the path, with all ones senses attuned to the beautiful nature along the way.

Off course the only lasting cure for dryness, driven-ness, and people-produced burn-out is to drink deeply from the well-spring of LIVING WATER in Christ Jesus—to accept His sacrifice for our sin at Calvary and rejoice in His Risen Life which indwells those of us who trust in Him.  He provides a depth of inner solitude wherever we are.  That solitude is fed by removing ourselves whenever we can—from the crowd, from our electronic devices and our daily agendas.

And that solitude is fed by whatever kind of retreat appeals to whomever we are—be the escape a turned over chair, a tree, a forest trail, a park path, or a sailing vessel.

I’m thankful for the Kaufman family—for the fact that they have returned safely.  I pray that their sick little one will continue to heal with no complications.  And I’m thankful for the Kaufmans’ reminder of something important:  a passion for solitude.  Although my preferences run to forest trails, the rivers and lakes of Wisconsin, and the path around our neighborhood park, I thoroughly track with concept behind the REBEL HEART!  🙂

Margaret L. Been, April 2014

NOTE:  Awhile back, a Christian friend described me to a group we were in together, with these words:  “Look at her.  She has REBEL written all over her.”

We all laughed, realizing that my personal rebellions have nothing to do with any kind of anarchy.  I will never challenge or rebel against my life-enhancing Judeo-Christian values.  But yes, I do have a rebel heart.  Perhaps I’ll share more of that with you in an future entry. 

Or maybe I don’t need to share.  Perhaps, in the 5 and 1/2 years I’ve been blogging you’ve discerned exactly what I mean by my rebel heart!  🙂

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