Bonhoeffer had been offered several opportunities to leave Germany to teach and preach elsewhere in safety. When he came to the United States in 1939, he was doing so for his safety and to escape conscription into the German army. He was in the U.S. for two weeks before he realized he’d made a mistake.
He wrote to his friend and fellow theologian, Reinhold Niebuhr, these words:
I have come to the conclusion that I made a mistake in coming to America this time. I must live through this difficult period in our national history along with the people of Germany. I will have no right to participate in the reconstruction of Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the trials of this time with my people... Christians in Germany will have to face the terrible alternative of either willing the defeat of their nation in order that a future Christian civilization may survive, or else willing the victory of their nation and thereby destroying our civilization and any true Christianity. I know which of these alternatives I must choose, but I cannot make that choice from a place of security.
Bonhoeffer’s seminal work, The Cost of Discipleship, was published just two years before in 1937. In that book, he wrote about the idea of followers of Jesus who take the commitments of discipleship too lightly. In the words of today’s gospel reading, Bonhoeffer was watching many who called themselves Christian say yes to Jesus but then fail to do the very things that the Savior commands in daily living.
One of the most famous passages from The Cost of Discipleship is this:
Cheap grace means grace sold on the market like cheapjacks' wares. The sacraments, the forgiveness of sin, and the consolations of religion are thrown away at cut prices… The essence of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance; and, because it has been paid, everything can be had for nothing. Since the cost was infinite, the possibilities of using and spending it are infinite. What would grace be if it were not cheap?... Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.
In 1939, Bonhoeffer felt that by coming to the United States, he had availed himself of a kind of cheap grace. In less than a month, he was on a boat back to Germany. He continued to preach, to train up new pastors and vicars in the Confessing Church, and to try to rescue Jews and others condemned to die. The latter is what eventually got him arrested and then hanged in a prison camp.
When Bonhoeffer wrote about cheap grace, he did not mean that the Church should fail to offer God’s assurance of forgiveness or the consolation of the sacraments. He was specifically addressing the idea that people who consider themselves disciples of Christ cannot do whatever they want, say whatever they want, live however they want, and then say, “But I am forgiven by the blood of the Lamb.”
To understand the cost of grace, in Bonhoeffer’s mind, one must be doing absolutely everything in one’s power to live in accordance with God’s will. In that willingness to take up the cross every day, one will stumble or make a mistake. It is then that the grace of God covers us—not through erasing harm caused through carelessness or intention, but pain caused by accident in the effort to do what was right.
And Bonhoeffer understood that intention cannot override impact. His intent by going to the United States was to be able to write, preach, and offer encouragement, but he realized the impact of being so far away from those who were suffering in the day-to-day was too great. The pain of receiving sermons from safety would cause a wound greater than his words could heal among the people whom he loved.
This same tension is evident in our readings today. The people listening to God’s words through Ezekiel cry out about the unfairness of the Lord. The Creator responds with wonder at how humans can think Divine action is unfair when their days are filled with injustice, destruction, and unfaithfulness.
The religious elders ask Jesus a pointed question, but not because they’re curious or want to learn. They want to protect their turf, their system, and their fragile peace with the Roman Empire. Jesus answers them with parables about obedience, truth, and heart-change. But the deeper question underneath their interrogation echoes down to us: Where does authority come from, and what does it look like when it is handed to us?
Paul gives an answer in his letter to the Philippian followers of Jesus. In observing the Christ, we see a different way of being, a different kind of authority: Though Christ was in the form of God, He did not count equality with God something to be taken advantage of or exploited. Instead, He emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.
Worldly authority says, “Get yours and hold on to it. Climb to the top, protect your power, and command others.”
Christlike authority says, “Hold everything lightly for the sake of the gospel. Descend into the mess, wash feet, empty yourself, and love to the point of cross-bearing.”
The authority Jesus gives His followers is never a badge for domination, status, or spiritual pride. It is an authorization to love sacrificially, to speak truth to power, and to serve a broken world. It is instruction, equipping, and empowerment to make choices that reflect the cost of God’s grace and our understanding of that cost.
When Paul says, “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure,” he does not mean that we have to make our own salvation happen. He is reminding those who hear his words to continue to strive every day to understand the gift of salvation, to live into it, and to pray once more to have joy in that gift.
Years ago, I was in a church meeting in a different congregation. The young child of one of the council members was playing with cars on the floor next to me as I sat at one end of the table. I heard him talking, but when I turned to look at him, I realized he was speaking to me. I hadn’t recognized that before because he wasn’t saying my name.
“Jesus, Jesus!” he said, looking at me.
“Are you asking me something?” I said to him.
“Yes, Jesus,” he replied. “Watch this.”
He then sent a car flying down the ramp of the toy garage.
We corrected my identity later, but I have always known that for children, the role of the pastor can sometimes be conflated with the role of God. The same goes for parents, elected officials, community leaders, or ever-present volunteers.
Anyone who takes action and is known as a follower of Christ will be assumed to be acting in accordance with their faith. Someone is watching us and either recognizing Jesus in us or not.
And I know some of you are thinking, Not every action has to do with my faith in Jesus. Sometimes it’s just buying an apple, getting my car washed, or venting with a friend.
That’s the thing about costly grace, though. If we believe in it, if we do not wish to cheapen it, if we want it to change the world in us and through us, then it does and it will affect everything.
Our yes to Jesus in song and devotion in the sanctuary means very little if it becomes a no in the vineyard of God’s world.
A no to Jesus, coupled with the right actions, means very little in terms of our evangelism and pointing toward the One who knows and loves us best.
We all must come to the same understanding as Bonhoeffer in June of ’39. Our words and our deeds must match, and they must do so for the sake of Christ in our neighbor.
The grace of God is free, but it will cost everything we have to understand its worth. And it is by living out that value in every aspect of our lives that we can be part of how the irresistible grace of God continues to redeem the world.
Amen.
