Dear one,
Within this space, several times I have alluded to Dietrich Bonhoeffer and/or Maria von Wedemeyer, his fiancée of twenty-eight months. During those months, twenty-four of which he was a Nazi prisoner, their relating was always supervised; and increasingly, as he was transported from various prisons, Maria feared the Allied bombing raids—which eventually razed much of Berlin. (Eberhard Bethge, Dietrich’s colleague, confidant, and later skilled biographer once noted: “For two whole hours, squadron after squadron sailed through the bright blue winter sky and transformed the urban area east of the Tiergarten into a wasteland of smoke and ashes.”)
From an Allied and American perspective (which I share), these raids hastened the war’s “successful” conclusion; but from the vantage of the average, German citizen, such hastening promised unknown months of continued anguish, deprivation, and subsistence—truly counter our American experience. However, in recent months, I have grown to better understand and likewise to appreciate this latter, German view—a view captured by the poignancy of a letter written by Maria’s mother to Dietrich’s parents:
“Perhaps we shall soon receive the order for a general evacuation to the west … I hope to be able to help save lives and prevent panic from setting in … May God be merciful and protect you and yours, and spare you a long ordeal. It rests with Him whether we meet again in this world or the next. Either way we can look forward to that time with great joy. Please accept my thanks for all the maternal and paternal love you bestow, and have bestowed, upon my child.”[1]
At question here is not the justice or legitimacy of the Nazi cause—not at all! Rather, it is the question of “perspective.” Of course, this is not a new thought, but in these days of the virus, protests, and political polarization, we do well to listen to one another’s stories and the conclusions drawn thereby, even if we might then disagree with those conclusions. In this regard, I know no more eloquent admonition than that of James:
“You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19).
Admittedly, human anger is not necessarily wrong, but if it is not preceded by a listening heart and loving speech, then destruction may well lie in its wake.
May you and I listen and then speak.
Hopefully,
Stan
[1] Love Letters From Cell 92, von Bismarck and Kabitz, eds., (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), p. 276. This letter was dated “January 1945,” and was written during the Battle of the Bulge.