A
TESTIMONY OF FAITH
II Timothy 1:8-14
A
sermon given by the Rev. Richard H. Taylor
April 17, 2005 / 4th Sunday of Easter
The
first Church that I served as pastor, way back in 1968, was a Church of German
Reformed background. There I encountered the Heidelberg Catechism.
A
catechism, for those of you who might not know, is a group of questions that a
person answers, usually to understand the main tenets of a religious faith. Many
of the older Christian traditions have
catechisms: there are Catholic, Episcopal,
and Lutheran catechisms. Generally a student of the religion would be expected
to memorize by rote the answers to all of the questions. Some churches will not
let a person into full membership unless they can recite the entire catechism.
The
Heidelberg Catechism is the one developed in the University city of the same name
for use by German and Swiss Calvinist or Reformed Churches. It also became the
main catechism for the Reformed Churches of the Netherlands and Hungary. It was
written in 1563 by Zacharias Ursinus and Caspar Olevianus. It has one hundred
and twenty-nine questions and answers that students would memorize. It's a little
easier than it sounds, since many of the questions name the ten commandments or
the words of the Lord's Prayer. But it is still a lot of work.
My
first congregation had used the Heidelberg Catechism for years, and many of the
older members still knew most of the answers by heart. A few even knew some answers
in German. Middle aged people had learned only some key, essential questions.
The young people, however, had broken away from memorization. Nonetheless, they
were expected to know what the Catechism was, at least read it, and maybe memorize
the answer to the first question, "What is your only comfort in life and
in death?"
I
put the answer to that in the bulletin. It begins, "That I belong - body
and soul, in life and in death - not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus
Christ..."
I
had never recited a catechism in my life, and suddenly - in 1968 - I was expected
to teach one! It was quite a challenge.
Now
before you imagine yourself too sophisticated to ever be interested in a catechism,
let me say some things on their behalf. In olden days, when most people could
not afford many books, memorization was the key way to learn something, it is
not to be frowned on.
And
Beneficent is only a few more generations beyond catechisms. Our first pastor
Joseph Snow so loved the Westminster Catechism that he got the town leaders to
name a street after it. When this side of the River tried to secede from Providence,
Snow and his friends thought we might call this "Westminster, Rhode Island."
All
of this is meant as an introduction so that I can tell you a story.
Paul
Schneider was a German minister ordained in 1926. He served as pastor, first in
the towns of Hochelheim and Dornholzhausen, and later in the villages of Dickensheid
and Womrath. He married the same year he was ordained, and eventually he and his
wife had five children. Schneider served in the Evangelical Church, which was
a merger of Reformed and Lutheran denominations. Some of their formerly Lutheran
congregations used Luther's Catechism, some newer congregations chose a more modern
document, while many of the old Reformed congregations continued to use the Heidelberg
Catechism. Schneider's background was Reformed, and he served congregations that
used the Heidelberg.
As
a young man he had experienced the First World War, and was given a challenging
liberal education. But before his ordination he also worked as a city missionary
in Berlin where he was impressed by the dedication of some of the other missionaries.
He wrote, "There are actually people here who maintain that they not only
intend to know Jesus and seek to follow his teaching, but also to possess him
as the living power in their life... [they] leave the impression that they really
have delivered their lives over to Jesus, loved only him alone, and that they
have really died to everything of their own in wish, thought or feelings."1
He had only been
seven years in the ministry when the Nazi party came to power in 1933. Many Americans
do not know, but Hitler's party promoted an entire theological system called "German
Christianity." Similar to their promotion of the idea of a master race, there
was a theology that said God was most clearly understood in all things German,
and that the nation-state and German culture were therefore of primary importance
in promoting their brand of Christianity. It was a kind of political salvation.
The Nazi Party then campaigned and worked to take over the structure of many German
Churches.
Schneider
wrote and circulated a letter that made him one of the first German clergy to
oppose the Nazis. He refused to give the Nazi salute, and withdrew from Church
groups taken over by the "German Christian" movement. The Nazis at one
point got him suspended from his pastorate, and at another point had him demoted
to a smaller less affluent parish. On returning to the pulpit after his suspension,
he preached a stunning sermon attacking the Nazi position.
He
said, "Dear congregation, in the last months no thinking, attentive Christian
has failed to notice that in our Evangelical church we are being summoned to battle,
to witness, to confession... To be sure many still sleep... they simply want to
accommodate themselves to the church regardless of the practice of the 'German
Christians.' They must under gird this practice with false teaching: that the
foundation of the Church is not the Gospel, the joyful offer of Jesus Christ,
the healer of sinners, and the Kingdom of God alone, but rather nationality...
Whenever they place blood and race and the history of the people as a source of
revelation next to God's Word,... they fall away from the living God..."2
But the conflict
became more than words. Schneider rebuked Nazi officials that used Nazi language
at the funeral of a young person. He asked his Church Council to rebuke a Nazi
sympathizer who withdrew his son from a catechism class to enroll in a Nazi school,
and in the struggle to seek a truly Christian response to the pollutions of a
national religion, he encouraged his congregation to fence the communion table
from those who did not regularly worship, and who had embodied Nazi philosophy.
We can imagine that these steps created controversy in his churches.
But
these were not normal times. Schneider was arrested and taken to the Buchenwald
concentration camp. There he refused to remove his cap during the Nazi anthem.
He was beaten. When the prison guards murdered two prisoners that had tried to
escape, Schneider continually hollered his opposition to the brutal murders. He
was continually beaten until he died in July, 1939. He was one of the earlier
concentration camp victims, even before the Second War began, and one of the first
Christians to die for denouncing the Nazi terror.
St.
Paul says, "do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord or of me his
prisoner..."
Schneider
was able to make a strong, early stance against the greatest crime of modern times
because he knew what he believed. He had a catechism and he thought children should
learn it. He believed God was more important that a flag-waving nationalism.
Yet
I suspect that there is something in his boldness that might trouble some Beneficent
people. He rebuked a person at a funeral. He thought the Church should discipline
a parent that did not bring their child to catechism. He thought that his church
should make it clear that they were different than the world. In all of our love
of inclusion we get troubled by his certainty.
But
I must admit a certain longing for a faith like his. Sometimes I think we live
in a deep shadow of his times. Think about it: much of religion is contaminated
with an incipient nationalism, Many would have us endorse the politics of our
country before the Gospel. Just months after Schneider was murdered, Hitler launched
a preemptive war against Poland. Political forces battle to take over the structures
of the churches. Money is offered to churches.
I
do not claim to be a Paul Schneider. I am a coward compared to him. But I wonder
what would happen here if I felt we were in a crisis as obvious as the one he
saw? Despite Schneider's controversial ideas, the majority of his congregations
stood warmly courageously behind him. What would happen here? Would we say that's
just the pastor's idea? Would we say we are welcome to all ideas? Would we say
Nazism or atheism are welcome, that we really have no beliefs in common?
Even
Congregational Churches used to write platforms and statements of faith. Do we
have enough courage to write such statements in our time? Would we stand behind
them if some might go to prison for their beliefs?
I
am convinced that we have to find some way to be about testimonies of faith. We
have to find some way to give a united witness to our war-mongering, materialist,
arrogant culture. We have to be something more than a group of people who merely
say we have agreed to disagree. That might be a nice club. But I am convinced
we must be more than that.
Could
Beneficent say now - in 2005 - to this community "I know the one in whom
I have put my trust," and all agree on the same one? Do we have any "standard
of sound teaching?" What is the stance we proclaim in this staggering, confused
world?
Amen.
1
- Johnson, Wayne, "Paul Schneider the Martyr of Buchenwald,"
Leben, (1,Jan.-Mar., 2005) pp.7-8,17; p.7.
2 - Ibid.,
pp.7-8.