Take My Hand

Books and Bonhoeffer

Those of you who know me well, know that Dietrich Bonhoeffer is one of my heroes, and has been for years. The first 'real' theology book I read was 'The Cost of Discipleship." My favorite present from my fourteenth birthday was Bonhoeffer's biography. I spent a month last summer working through his 'Ethics'. His books make him real to me.

Books are magical. The words in them can challenge us, guide us, instruct us, and even protect us. Books provide us with mentors and conversation partners that we would otherwise never come in contact with. Books are dangerous.

A couple of years ago, I left a copy of Bonhoeffer's 'The Cost of Discipleship' in the youth room. I came back for it a few days later, and couldn't find it anywhere. It turned out that the youth minister had it in his office. When I went to get it from him, he took it off of his shelf, handed it to me and said, "I couldn't just keep this lying around. It's a dangerous book." My response was, "Our faith is a dangerous faith."

Indeed, it is a dangerous book. Bonhoeffer writes, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die." I often wonder if I'm following that call. Have I gone where he bids me to go? Am I living in this way? We as Christians are called to a sacrificial life. And this leads me -- and others, I'm sure -- to the question of whether or not I am holy enough: whether or not I am good enough for this faith and this God. I know that these questions are questions that we don't often give voice to. Of course I am good enough, because it is not at all about being 'good enough'. I know that, and most of you know that. But the questions still remain -- spoken or unspoken -- in the deepest part of our hearts. Often, we are trying desperately to fashion ourselves into faithful people.

I was pondering all of this the other day, when I came across a bit of Bonhoeffer's writings from prison.

Dietrich writes (from Tegel prison), "For a long time... I thought I could acquire faith by trying to live a holy life, or something like it. I suppose I wrote 'The Cost of Discipleship' as the end of that path. Today I see the dangers of that book, though I still stand by what I wrote. I discovered later, and am still discovering up to this moment, that it is only by living completely in this world that one learns to have faith. One must completely abandon any attempt to make something of oneself, whether it be saint, or a converted siner, or a churchman (a so-called priestly type!), a righteous man or an unrighteous one, a sick man or healthy one."

One must completely abandon any attempt to make something of oneself...

I read this, and I think, "Thank God." Thank God.

Peace,
NS

College

My name is Natalie Stadnick, and I am a procrastinator.

For the past two days I have been trying to coax myself into writing the papers I have due next week. Alas. I have not been successful. But, I'm getting closer! I actually checked out the books I need from the library. However, those books are sitting on my bed -- unopened and unread -- while I type out this blog post. What can I say?

If I recounted in detail my first week of college, you wouldn't believe what I told you. So, I'll just stick to the basics. I like my classes (Reducing World Poverty, Philosophical Thought, Law Morality & State, and Ancient Greek Civilizations). I like my professors. I like my adviser. I like my roommate. I like this town, and I like the coffee shops in it. I like the horrible, politically incorrect school songs. I like the Honor Code. I like the tradition and the pomp and circumstance. I like it all. Except for writing papers. That, I do not like. And so, I procrastinate.

Agnes Scott is a beautiful school; I need to take some pictures and post a photo album... that will be my next procrastination-project.

I've found a wonderful new church: St. Paul (Grant Park)! The first Sunday I showed up I felt like I was home... it was a Communion Sunday and just about every cross-section of people you could imagine was represented at the altar rail. It was the closest I've seen a church come to true community in a long time.
They remembered my name when I came back the next week. And here's the kicker -- they let people who can't sing into the choir!

Not to mention the fact that words can't begin to describe how wonderful I think St. Paul's pastor -- Rev. Susan Allen Grady -- is.

Anyway. I need to start writing my papers... or maybe I'll keep procrastinating and do laundry!

Peace.