Redtree Times

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today, and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from a victory already achieved?

 —Who Am I?, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters & Papers from Prison

It is said that the true character of a person is revealed in times of adversity.

It is also said that true character is revealed with the attainment of power but I’m not going to talk about that this morning since having great power is much rarer than the many forms of adversity that can us common folk. Besides, that adage is definitively proven by the soulless creature now brandishing power here in this country. 

But most of us face adversity of some sort at some point in our lives, a time when we are forced to make decisions that show just who we are and what is contained within our character. At such times we must decide whether to dither or take action. To speak out or be silent. To fight or take flight. To accept and succumb to our fear or to resist and overcome it. 

This all comes to mind for me in this new painting, The Answering Light, from my upcoming Principle Gallery show, Entanglement. On one hand it is a quiet and somewhat placid piece, almost meditative in its nature. On the other hand, I see the house here as representing one of those critical points in time when such a decision must be made. It is still quiet but more brooding than meditative as an answer is sought.

I see the swirling tangle of energy in the sky as providing an answer which is to do that which is right, that which is not in disharmony with the energy of the universe.  It is also a reminder that this is a point in which there is the opportunity to mold and alter the character that has been formed throughout one’s life. A time to overcome those mistakes of judgement from our past, to reestablish our strength of character– to find redemption of a sort.

The light and energy of the sky cautions that whatever you decide will define your character because you will do what you will do because that is what and who you are. 

This same question of who we are and what that will us do is contained in a poem written in a German prison during World War II by theologian and anti-Nazi dissident Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I have written about Bonhoeffer a number of times here and the post on his essay, On Stupidity, has been by far the most popular post on this blog over the past several years.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a German pastor and theological writer who stood in direct opposition to the Nazi regime and spoke out against its programs of euthanasia and genocide. He had an opportunity to stay in the US in the late 1930’s, safe from the reach of the Nazis, but he insisted on returning, believing that if he were to rebuild the German church in the war’s aftermath he must endure it with its people.

He was imprisoned in a German prison in 1943 and later transferred to a concentration camp. He was implicated in a plot to assassinate Hitler and was hanged in the waning days of the war, in April of 1945.

In this poem, Who Am I?, Bonhoeffer poses many of same questions and concerns that I see in this painting, They are the same questions and concerns that I have for my own character. I think it is a fine companion for this painting.

That’s a lot to say here this morning and I am not sure that I’ve said it clearly or with any sense at all. I write these things as first drafts each morning so sometimes they are not always all I want them to be. Some things are missed or said in a clunky way. Kind of reflective of my own character. Below is the whole poem from Bonhoeffer.

The Answering Light, 24″ by 12″ on canvas, is included in my exhibit of new work, Entanglement, that opens Friday, June 13 at the Principle Gallery with an Opening Reception from 6-8:30 PM. I will also be giving a Painting Demonstration at the gallery on the following day, Saturday, June 14, from 11 AM until 1 PM.

Who am I? They often tell me
I would step from my cell’s confinement
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a squire from his country-house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I would talk to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me
I would bear the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I know of myself,
restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat,
yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighbourliness,
trembling with anger at despotism and petty humiliation,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today, and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from a victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, thou knowest, O God, I am thine.

–Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters & Papers from Prison