
I rarely take a breath in and forget to exhale. Especially while reading a book. But with Bonhoeffer’s biography by Eric Mataxas, I guess this is my exception. (For those that don’t know, Bonhoeffer was a theologian, pastor, and author in Germany during WWII, and was eventually imprisoned and martyred for his faith.)
Wherever Bonhoeffer stepped, even in the darkest of prisons, people witnessed his constant joy. He lived and breathed peace. He was a man absolutely for others. He was a pastor, not by title alone, but at his core. Prisoners would find him and pull on his life, the life of Christ inside of him. On his last day on earth, Bonhoeffer’s fellow prisoners asked him to hold a church service, with one of the most vocal askers a professed atheist. He read from Isaiah 53:5 (“By His stripes, we are healed.”) and 1st Peter 1:3 (“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy we have been born anew to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”)
Just as Bonhoeffer finished his closing prayer, a SS guard stormed in the prison, demanding Bonhoeffer relocate to another prison, which happened to be notorious for being a place to go die. Bonhoeffer said his goodbyes to his prisoner friends, closing with these words.
“This is the end. For me, the beginning of life.”
This is where i forgot to exhale.
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