Turning Back
London, Repentance Day, November 19, 1933
Some European churches observe a Day of Repentance and Prayer in the autumn, near the end of the church year. The day was a national holiday in Germany in Bonhoeffer’s time (it isn’t any longer) and was of such importance that it was observed even by the German-speaking congregations in London Bonhoeffer was serving in 1933. He may have preached this sermon at a special evening service.
On the first page of his manuscript, Bonhoeffer noted the hymns to be sung during the service. The last one, “Wake, Awake, for Night Is Flying,” looks forward to Advent, the season of light. Light is a theme throughout this sermon, beginning with a proverb from the Grimms’ fairy tale “The Bright Sun Brings It to Light,” in which a crime is revealed many years after the death of the victim. Every secret will be revealed to God, Bonhoeffer says. But Jesus Christ is the light that uncovers what is hidden in our lives, and in him we have the promise of God’s grace. He echoes this understanding in a letter he wrote from prison on August 23, 1944, to his friend Eberhard Bethge: “My past life is brim-full of God’s goodness, and my sins are covered by the forgiving love of Christ crucified.”
2 Corinthians 5:10: For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.
Nothing can remain a secret, nothing stays hidden. As a German proverb says, “No story is so cleverly made but the sun will bring it to light one day.” That means this sun of ours, which is always bringing out into the light things that have taken place in the darkness—quite suddenly, to the great surprise and horror of everyone concerned. We clap our hands to our foreheads and say, how could such a thing be possible, and are terribly disappointed and strike terribly moralistic attitudes, while in the quiet of our hearts we ourselves are afraid of what the sun may find out. Sometimes it only takes a moment for a person’s entire life and fate and secret to be laid bare. All it takes is for some strong hand unwittingly to pick up some old stone and to see underneath it a swarm of filthy vermin and creatures of the dark that had hidden themselves here from the sunlight, and are now exposed in all their frightening ugliness and trying to scurry away.
Such stones can lie around unnoticed for years until some clumsy foot knocks them aside. And such stones, under which no one expects to find anything, are quickly and easily seized upon as hiding places by these dark creatures of our hearts. But the dark things are still afraid; they tremble at every approaching step for fear of being exposed. Afraid of what actually? Other people—who most probably are in the same boat, all condemned together, but nonetheless pointing their long fingers at one another until their own secrets come to light.
Yet the course of this world often seems unjust, to the extent that not everything comes to light—only something here and something there, which allows everyone else to be so terribly morally outraged, as long as they have a shred of hope that it won’t happen to them—certainly not because they have nothing to hide. So the proverb is not entirely right after all. And because it is not, all humanity can be divided into those whose secrets have come to light and those whose secrets have not. The latter are counted as moral and decent, while the former are considered immoral and despicable.
However, it is possible to live more or less discreetly. To be more discreet in this sense means to know how to stay in the shadows, to keep those things hidden in thoughts and feelings that someone else makes visible through actions. And the state of affairs in this world is that the sun can bring deeds to light, but not thoughts.
But how terribly mistaken we would be if we were satisfied simply to have realized this and therefore just went on living quietly, discreetly—but rotten in our innermost core.
The Day of Repentance and our text have more to say than the proverb. This text would not make a proverb. Proverbs must be moralistic and show at least one group of people that they are in the right. Our text does not do that; it doesn’t say anyone is in the right. It is not moralistic at all, but rather thoroughly realistic. This text sheds light on the Day of Repentance, such a bright, glaring, dazzling light that it frightens us out of our wits. The Day of Repentance is not really a dark day, but rather a day of alarming brightness and transparency, uncontrollably lightfilled. In nature there are sometimes such days, when the air is so incredibly transparent that we can make out details that are usually shrouded in haze and distance. The Day of Repentance is this sort of day. Let us talk about this bright Day of Repentance. There is a sun here that has something to bring to light, but this sun, this light that reaches unsparingly into every corner and uncovers what is hidden, is Jesus Christ. And that changes everything.
The Day of Repentance is the day on which we are reminded in a truly unspectacular way—by a word from the Bible—that at the end of our existence, all our life will be uncovered and laid bare. “All of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ.”
We are people of today. Our way of living and thinking is not the Christian way; thus we have settled for a double self-deception about our lives that allows us to live in a certain degree of peace. One deception is in thinking that what has happened, what we have done in the past, has sunk into the dark depths of oblivion—that as long as we and others have more or less forgotten about it, it will stay forgotten. In other words, we live in the belief that forgetting is the ultimate and strongest power. Eternity means oblivion! The other deception under which we live is that we think we can decide between what is hidden and what is revealed, between what is secret and what is public. Each of us lives a public, visible life revealed to all, and in a completely separate compartment each of us has a hidden, secret life of thoughts, feelings, and hopes that no other person ever knows. We would be paralyzed with fear at the idea that all the thoughts and feelings we have had in just one day might suddenly lie open to the eyes of the world. We live under the very natural assumption that what is hidden stays hidden.
Yet here we see our lifelong comfortable assumptions unmasked, revealed as completely unjustified illusions. Eternity is not oblivion, but rather memory—eternal memory. Whatever happens in time, happens in this world, is preserved for all eternity. It leaves unavoidably immortal footprints. This is why our forebears left us the image of the Book of Life [Rev. 20:12], in which our lives are recorded. The blank page has been written on. Nothing has been forgotten. For everything we do is done in the sight of the everlasting God; this is why it is preserved for all eternity. It makes no difference whether we have forgotten or not. God does not forget.
And another thing: for God there is no difference between what is hidden and what is secret. To God, everything is as transparent as light. “For darkness is as light to you,” says the psalm [130:3]. Because God is light [1 John 1:5], because God is openly revealed, then we must also be in the light and stand revealed before God. That is why, before God, there are no secrets. That is why every secret will be revealed to God; that is why the end of all things means the revelation of all mysteries, the mysteries of God and those of humankind.
“For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.” That goes against our innermost human nature. We all have things to hide; we have lifelong secrets, worries, ideas, hopes, desires, passions—about which no one else in the whole world knows. There is nothing we are more sensitive about than people touching on such areas with their questions. And here it says in the Bible, against everything we think of as fair play, that one day at the end we will have to stand revealed before Christ, with all that we are and have been, and not only before Christ but also before all the other people standing there with us. And all of us know that we may be able to stand trial in many a human court, but not in that of Christ. “Lord, who could stand? . . .” [Ps. 130:3]
Christ will judge. His spirit will distinguish between the spirits. He who was poor and powerless when he lived among us will in the end pass judgment on the whole world. For each person, therefore, there is only one essential question in life: what position do you take toward this Spirit—how do you stand toward this man Jesus Christ? Toward any other spirit, toward any other person, there are several possible positions to take. The ultimate decision does not depend on these. Toward Jesus Christ, there can only be an absolute Yes or an absolute No. For Christ is the Spirit against which every human spirit will be tested. Christ alone is the one whom no one can avoid, no one can pass by—even when we think we can stand on our own and be our own judge. No person is his or her own judge. Christ alone is the judge of humankind. No person is the judge over anybody else—Christ alone is the judge of us all, whose judgment is everlasting. And whoever has tried to pass him by here on earth without clearly saying Yes or No, will at the hour of death, at the moment when our lives are weighed for all eternity, have to stand face to face with Christ, to look into his eyes. His question will then be: have you lived in love toward God and your neighbor, or have you lived for yourself? Here there will be no escape, no excuses, no talking yourself out of it . . . here your whole life lies open to the light of Christ, “so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.”
What a fearful moment that is to think about, when the book of our whole lives is opened, when we come face to face with what we have said and done against God’s commandments, when we stand face to face with Christ and cannot defend ourselves. Lord, who could stand?
But the Bible is never intended to terrify us. God does not want human beings to be afraid, not even of the Last Judgment. We are to know about all this so that we can understand about life and its meaning. God lets people know about it now, today, so that today we can lead our lives in the open awareness and the light of the Last Judgment. We are to know for only one reason—so that we human beings will find the way to Jesus Christ, so that we will turn from our evil ways, turn back and seek to encounter Jesus Christ. God does not want to frighten people but sends us the word about the judgment only so that we will reach out more passionately, more hungrily for the promise of God’s grace. It is so we will recognize that by ourselves we do not have the strength to stand before God, that before God we must certainly pass away, but that in spite of everything God does not want us to die, but rather wants us to live.
Christ sits in judgment. That is truly a serious matter. Yet Christ sits in judgment, which also means that we are judged by the Merciful One who lived among tax collectors and sinners, who was tempted as we are [Heb. 4:15], who carried and endured our sorrows, our fears, and our desires in his own body, who knows us and calls us by our names [Isa. 43:1]. Christ sits in judgment, which means that grace is the judge, and forgiveness, and love—whoever clings to them has already been acquitted. Those, of course, who want to be judged by their own works, Christ will judge and pass sentence based on those works. But we should be joyful when we think about that day. We need not tremble and hold back, but give ourselves gladly into his hands. Luther dared even to speak of it as that dear day of judgment. So as we leave worship on the Day of Repentance, let us be not downcast but joyful and confident. Come, Judgment Day, we look forward to you with joy, for then we shall see our merciful Lord and clasp his hand, and he will receive us with open arms.
What about the “good and evil” about which Christ will ask us on that final day? The good is nothing other than our asking for and receiving his grace. The evil is only fear and wanting to stand before God on our own and justify ourselves. To repent, therefore, means to be in this process of turning around, turning away from our own accomplishments and receiving God’s mercy. Turn back, turn back! the whole Bible calls to us joyfully. Turn back—where? To the everlasting mercy of the God who never leaves us, whose heart breaks because of us, the God who created us and loves us beyond all measure. God will be merciful—so come then, Judgment Day. Lord Jesus, make us ready. We await you with joy. Amen.