Following Jesus: Wrestling with Bonhoeffer – Part Three
- Nathan Hilton
- 4 days ago
- 4 min read
To read Parts One and Two in this three-part blog series, click here: Following Jesus: Wrestling with Bonhoeffer – Part One & Following Jesus: Wrestling with Bonhoeffer – Part Two.

Over the past few months, I’ve been walking through The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and man, it has not been a passive read. It’s been a wrestling match. The first third of the book held up a mirror to my soul. Bonhoeffer’s words about cheap grace wrecked me. I realized how easily I can excuse sin in the name of grace and how I can avoid real repentance and settle for comfort. The second part of the book shifted into obedience to true discipleship. It didn’t feel like a guilt trip, but more like Bonhoeffer handing me a compass, saying, “This is the way. Walk in it.”
But these last chapters—21 through 33—are something different. They feel like marching orders. A theological fire lit with urgency. Bonhoeffer moves from breaking us down to building us up, grounding us in deep truth and then sending us into the world as the Body of Christ.
One of the major themes Bonhoeffer returns to is the reality of the Church, the visible Church. Not just a spiritual idea or a group of individual believers scattered across the globe. The Church, he writes, is Christ existing as a community, now who would have thought about it that way without having any theological education or background?
The Body of Christ isn’t a metaphor; it’s us. The gathered, struggling, forgiven people of God. Sometimes, you see Christ clearly in others, and other times…well, let’s just say we all have room to grow in Christlikeness. But that’s the point. We weren’t meant to do this alone. The Church is the place where we’re reminded who we are, where we are sustained, and where we learn to imitate the One who has joined Himself to us.
“It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” Bonhoeffer’s theology here echoes Paul’s, and it’s not abstract, it’s incarnational. Through the Church, Christ continues His work in the world, not by force, not by dominance, but by presence, suffering, and service.
Another thread woven through these chapters is baptism, a theme I didn’t expect to surface so much in the final third of the book. Bonhoeffer returns again and again to the death of the old self. Through Baptism, the old Adam the flesh is drowned. We die, not just symbolically, but actually, spiritually, the old man is crucified with Christ. And the new creation rises.
It reminded me of Luther’s The Freedom of a Christian, where he writes that a Christian is perfectly free, lord of all and yet also servant of all. Why? Because Christ lives in us. The Spirit produces fruit. A good tree can’t help but bear good fruit. That’s not motivational self-help, that’s the Spirit of God dwelling in the baptized, working for the good of neighbor.
Bonhoeffer doesn’t downplay suffering either. In fact, he repeats what Jesus promises in Scripture: that if we follow Him, we will suffer. And yet we will never be alone. That promise is etched into our Baptism too: “I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
Bonhoeffer doesn’t let us off easy when it comes to the world. He’s crystal clear: we are dead to this world. Not because we hate creation or hide in fear. But because this world, in its rebellion, is passing away. And yet we still cling to it, don’t we? We chase approval, comfort, and distraction. We scroll and compare. We wrestle with identity and try to prove our worth. But in Christ, we’ve died. That means our identity no longer comes from what we do or how we perform, it comes from the One who said, “You are mine.”
This part stirred something in me. We need to talk more about identity in the Church, not just in cultural terms, but theological ones. Our vocations matter—our work, our callings, our service—but they are not who we are. Bonhoeffer echoes Luther here again: vocation is a gift from God to serve the world, but our identity is given in Christ. Beloved. Forgiven. Claimed.
That’s what makes the Church the Church, not its programs or buildings or styles, but that it is filled with people who bear the name of Christ, even in weakness.
Bonhoeffer doesn’t pretend things are fine. He names the chaos of the world just like we can today: school shootings, broken families, pornography, confusion about gender and roles, division, injustice. We have not taken care of God’s creation or of each other as His creation. And the Church? We’ve often been too silent, too comfortable, too scared to lose influence.
But Bonhoeffer reminds us the Church must move forward. No matter the cost. No matter the persecution. He begins the book by saying, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” And now, at the end, that truth is not a warning. It’s a promise. A promise that dying to this world is the only way to truly live. That in losing our lives, we gain Christ, and that’s everything.
One of the final takeaways that grabbed my heart is this: we are not just representatives of Jesus. We are united with Him. That changes everything. I don’t go into the world trying to imitate Jesus like a fan trying to copy a hero. I go into the world with Christ living in me. That’s not pressure. It’s power. It’s grace. It’s the mystery of the Gospel. That God would choose to dwell in broken jars of clay to show the surpassing power belongs to Him, not us.
So as I close this blog series, here’s what I want to say:
We are the Body of Christ.
We are the visible Church.
We have died and been raised in Christ.
And we are now sent—not to blend in, not to stay safe, but to be who we already are in Jesus.
That means proclaiming truth in love. Bearing one another’s burdens. Suffering faithfully. Living simply. Worshiping joyfully. Repenting constantly. Forgiving freely.
We’re not called to be successful; we're called to be faithful.
And the good news is: the One who calls us is with us.
Always. Until the end.
So Church, let’s go.
Let’s move forward.
Let’s live as those who have already died and been raised in Him.
Amen!
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