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Between the Swastika and the Sickle: The Life, Disappearance, and Execution of Ernst Lohmeyer
The life, theological contribution, and mysterious disappearance of one of the more important New Testament scholars in the twentieth century On February 15, 1946, the Soviet NKVD raided the home of Ernst Lohmeyer just hours before his inauguration as the president of Greifswald University in Germany. Lohmeyer had survived active duty in both World War I and World War II. A New Testament scholar and theologian, he resisted the rise of Nazi fascism as a member of the Confessing Church. But the Soviet occupation of Germany was even more repressive than Nazi domination. With the exception of correspondence from prison, Lohmeyer was never heard from again. In Between the Swastika and the Sickle , James R. Edwards recounts the story of Lohmeyer’s life, his theological achievements, his courageous resistance to the forces of political repression, and the events surrounding his death. But the book also includes Edwards’s intrepid search for the legacy of this brilliant and courageous scholar, whose story is made even more compelling by the tumultuous interplay of faith and politics in twenty-first-century America.
344 pages, Hardcover
Published May 23, 2019
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December 23, 2020
This was certainly a very interesting read, although I felt conflicted about it at times.
First, a brief summary:
New Testament scholar James Edwards, during his own studies, came across the name of Ernst Lohmeyer, a little known and underappreciated New Testament scholar who lived in Germany in the first half of the 20th century. Edwards then decided to investigate. Lohmeyer opposed liberal theology and made some important contributions to New Testament scholarship. His commitment to biblical truth led him to avoid joining the Nazi party, and to befriend and speak up for, some Jewish colleagues. However, he was not part of any resistance movement (other than some relationships with the Confessing Church), and he was conscripted and served in the German Wehrmacht in both WW1 and WW2. He tried to maintain his integrity in this and to alleviate some of the horrors of the war through the leadership positions he occupied, by treating captives and civilians humanely, for example. After the war, he became president of a university in Soviet East Germany. His political overseers became unhappy with his leadership, and he was arrested and executed (and nearly forgotten). While his killing was certainly unjust, I wouldn’t call him a martyr (and the book never claims him as such) as his death wasn’t particularly linked to his Christian faith.
The good:
Edwards’ telling of the story has a compelling personal touch. The story of his investigation, developing friendships with Lohmeyer’s surviving family, poring over old Soviet archives, etc. is engrossing. Some other reviewers said they didn’t like Edwards weaving his own story with that of Lohmeyer’s, but I thought this was one of the most enjoyable parts of the book. This project was clearly a labor of love, and Edwards seemed to feel a righteous burden to, in a sense, exonerate Lohmeyer and see him receive the credit he deserves as a scholar. At times, Edwards also weaves in brief discussions of some philosophical or theological point, in order to give context to the significance of Lohmeyer’s work in those areas. I also enjoyed this.
Among the things we learn about Lohmeyer’s contributions is that he was the first scholar to highlight Philippians 2:5-11 as an early Christian hymn which predated Paul’s writing of the letter. The significance of that is to establish that a high Christology was not a late development in the church. That alone is extremely noteworthy, and I appreciate Edwards bringing it to our attention.
What I had mixed feelings about:
In general, the book paints a somewhat underwhelming picture of Lohmeyer’s personal spiritual walk, and I found Edwards’ reflection (or lack thereof) on this to be unsatisfying, especially in the war chapters. I wasn’t sure if Edwards’ source material lacked details about this, or if it was just the way Edwards wrote his book. Apparently, a massive number of letters between Lohmeyer and his wife were preserved, so I was surprised not to find a more inside view of Lohmeyer’s thoughts.
In the chapter on WW1, there is not a single word about Lohmeyer’s inner spiritual life, or about how the war affected him emotionally or spiritually. There is no mention of God in communication to his wife, no questions of conscience raised about the war. The only mention of anything related to faith is that once he was on a train, and he was annoyed that there wasn’t enough light for him to continue his study of New Testament Greek.
In the chapter on WW2, regarding whether a true Christian could’ve been in the German military and maintained their integrity, I tried to approach the book with an open mind. Given the fact that other Christians at the time died to resist joining Hitler’s army, I would’ve expected the book to offer more reflection on Lohmeyer’s decision. Did he consider resisting? If not, how did he justify it to himself? These were especially vexing questions given the fact that quotations of his sermons earlier in the book showed that he clearly understood the evils of Nazism.
I would’ve been more sympathetic if the book had said something like, “He felt especially compelled and trapped because he needed to provide for his family, and he felt that he could serve in a certain, non-combat role where he might do some good.” Even a couple of sentences like that would've made a big difference for me, but as it stands, it felt like a big gap in the middle of the story.
The book treats it as a given that he had to join. Edwards states at the beginning of the chapter that there is a danger in unrighteously condemning a good man, while at the same time, righteously condemning the atrocities of the Wehrmacht in eastern Europe. However, Edwards doesn’t provide enough prior evidence to establish that Lohmeyer was in fact a good man in this situation, in order to justify this statement. In my opinion, if one is trying to paint someone as an unsung hero, then a bigger danger is glossing over their faults.
Other than the war chapters, other questionable things about Lohmeyer’s spiritual life include an emotionally distant relationship with his wife, an affair he had while serving in the army, and no evidence that he had much spiritual impact on his family (his son died while fighting in the war). Intellectual pursuits of God can absolutely be worshipful, but the book didn’t necessarily give me the sense that it was worshipful for Lohmeyer. Academic study of the Bible can absolutely be glorifying to God, but the book didn’t give me the sense that Lohmeyer’s goal was to glorify God (as opposed to say, personal ambition). The book didn’t say much about his motivations in becoming a theologian.
I absolutely don’t mind a biography that contains a mixture of good and bad, and I'm not saying that I'm any better. Apart from Christ, all of our heroes are flawed, and we do well to remember that. Our culture now finds it impossible to appreciate the good in historical figures while critiquing their flaws in a nuanced way (e.g. jettisoning the contributions of America’s founding fathers because some of them owned slaves). In light of that, a book like this could be important. Again, I just wish there had been more reflection on this.
I don’t think Edwards’ goal was necessarily to paint Lohmeyer as a perfect, heroic martyr. He clearly wasn’t afraid to include a number of negative points in Lohmeyer’s life (like the aforementioned affair). However, there were several places where Edwards waxed eloquent about what an incredible man of sterling integrity and character Lohmeyer was, without giving strong supporting evidence to justify such high praise. Those sections did annoy me a bit. Another reviewer called this book a “hagiography.” I don’t agree with that, but clearly some other people also got the impression that Edwards was being soft on Lohmeyer’s shortcomings.
The final chapter somewhat rectified these criticisms, and added a star to the rating for me. Lohmeyer had a spiritual epiphany while in Soviet prison, where God seemingly humbled him and opened his eyes to see his mistakes more clearly. Indeed, this blessing often comes through adversity. Lohmeyer realized how much he had neglected his wife, and he also realized that he had been treating God merely as an idea, an object of inquiry, rather than enjoying and worshipping Him. This was a moving chapter and contains valuable lessons for all of us. It confirmed some of my suspicions from earlier in the book, but I still wish there had been more reflection and insight into Lohmeyer’s thinking throughout.
In the end, the value of this book for me was more as a cautionary tale (i.e., you can know many things about God, but if your inner spiritual life is not vital, it’s easy to be swept into morally compromising situations, both in your personal relationships and in your career).
Edwards seems to have taken a great deal of inspiration from Lohmeyer’s life. That’s great, but it wasn’t my gut reaction to the story. I wish Edwards had stated more explicitly what he hoped the reader would take away. If this book were an academic article, I would say that the conclusion needed a bit more synthesis and more discussion of its findings in light of other relevant literature (i.e., in this case, stories of other German Christians from the same time period).
First, a brief summary:
New Testament scholar James Edwards, during his own studies, came across the name of Ernst Lohmeyer, a little known and underappreciated New Testament scholar who lived in Germany in the first half of the 20th century. Edwards then decided to investigate. Lohmeyer opposed liberal theology and made some important contributions to New Testament scholarship. His commitment to biblical truth led him to avoid joining the Nazi party, and to befriend and speak up for, some Jewish colleagues. However, he was not part of any resistance movement (other than some relationships with the Confessing Church), and he was conscripted and served in the German Wehrmacht in both WW1 and WW2. He tried to maintain his integrity in this and to alleviate some of the horrors of the war through the leadership positions he occupied, by treating captives and civilians humanely, for example. After the war, he became president of a university in Soviet East Germany. His political overseers became unhappy with his leadership, and he was arrested and executed (and nearly forgotten). While his killing was certainly unjust, I wouldn’t call him a martyr (and the book never claims him as such) as his death wasn’t particularly linked to his Christian faith.
The good:
Edwards’ telling of the story has a compelling personal touch. The story of his investigation, developing friendships with Lohmeyer’s surviving family, poring over old Soviet archives, etc. is engrossing. Some other reviewers said they didn’t like Edwards weaving his own story with that of Lohmeyer’s, but I thought this was one of the most enjoyable parts of the book. This project was clearly a labor of love, and Edwards seemed to feel a righteous burden to, in a sense, exonerate Lohmeyer and see him receive the credit he deserves as a scholar. At times, Edwards also weaves in brief discussions of some philosophical or theological point, in order to give context to the significance of Lohmeyer’s work in those areas. I also enjoyed this.
Among the things we learn about Lohmeyer’s contributions is that he was the first scholar to highlight Philippians 2:5-11 as an early Christian hymn which predated Paul’s writing of the letter. The significance of that is to establish that a high Christology was not a late development in the church. That alone is extremely noteworthy, and I appreciate Edwards bringing it to our attention.
What I had mixed feelings about:
In general, the book paints a somewhat underwhelming picture of Lohmeyer’s personal spiritual walk, and I found Edwards’ reflection (or lack thereof) on this to be unsatisfying, especially in the war chapters. I wasn’t sure if Edwards’ source material lacked details about this, or if it was just the way Edwards wrote his book. Apparently, a massive number of letters between Lohmeyer and his wife were preserved, so I was surprised not to find a more inside view of Lohmeyer’s thoughts.
In the chapter on WW1, there is not a single word about Lohmeyer’s inner spiritual life, or about how the war affected him emotionally or spiritually. There is no mention of God in communication to his wife, no questions of conscience raised about the war. The only mention of anything related to faith is that once he was on a train, and he was annoyed that there wasn’t enough light for him to continue his study of New Testament Greek.
In the chapter on WW2, regarding whether a true Christian could’ve been in the German military and maintained their integrity, I tried to approach the book with an open mind. Given the fact that other Christians at the time died to resist joining Hitler’s army, I would’ve expected the book to offer more reflection on Lohmeyer’s decision. Did he consider resisting? If not, how did he justify it to himself? These were especially vexing questions given the fact that quotations of his sermons earlier in the book showed that he clearly understood the evils of Nazism.
I would’ve been more sympathetic if the book had said something like, “He felt especially compelled and trapped because he needed to provide for his family, and he felt that he could serve in a certain, non-combat role where he might do some good.” Even a couple of sentences like that would've made a big difference for me, but as it stands, it felt like a big gap in the middle of the story.
The book treats it as a given that he had to join. Edwards states at the beginning of the chapter that there is a danger in unrighteously condemning a good man, while at the same time, righteously condemning the atrocities of the Wehrmacht in eastern Europe. However, Edwards doesn’t provide enough prior evidence to establish that Lohmeyer was in fact a good man in this situation, in order to justify this statement. In my opinion, if one is trying to paint someone as an unsung hero, then a bigger danger is glossing over their faults.
Other than the war chapters, other questionable things about Lohmeyer’s spiritual life include an emotionally distant relationship with his wife, an affair he had while serving in the army, and no evidence that he had much spiritual impact on his family (his son died while fighting in the war). Intellectual pursuits of God can absolutely be worshipful, but the book didn’t necessarily give me the sense that it was worshipful for Lohmeyer. Academic study of the Bible can absolutely be glorifying to God, but the book didn’t give me the sense that Lohmeyer’s goal was to glorify God (as opposed to say, personal ambition). The book didn’t say much about his motivations in becoming a theologian.
I absolutely don’t mind a biography that contains a mixture of good and bad, and I'm not saying that I'm any better. Apart from Christ, all of our heroes are flawed, and we do well to remember that. Our culture now finds it impossible to appreciate the good in historical figures while critiquing their flaws in a nuanced way (e.g. jettisoning the contributions of America’s founding fathers because some of them owned slaves). In light of that, a book like this could be important. Again, I just wish there had been more reflection on this.
I don’t think Edwards’ goal was necessarily to paint Lohmeyer as a perfect, heroic martyr. He clearly wasn’t afraid to include a number of negative points in Lohmeyer’s life (like the aforementioned affair). However, there were several places where Edwards waxed eloquent about what an incredible man of sterling integrity and character Lohmeyer was, without giving strong supporting evidence to justify such high praise. Those sections did annoy me a bit. Another reviewer called this book a “hagiography.” I don’t agree with that, but clearly some other people also got the impression that Edwards was being soft on Lohmeyer’s shortcomings.
The final chapter somewhat rectified these criticisms, and added a star to the rating for me. Lohmeyer had a spiritual epiphany while in Soviet prison, where God seemingly humbled him and opened his eyes to see his mistakes more clearly. Indeed, this blessing often comes through adversity. Lohmeyer realized how much he had neglected his wife, and he also realized that he had been treating God merely as an idea, an object of inquiry, rather than enjoying and worshipping Him. This was a moving chapter and contains valuable lessons for all of us. It confirmed some of my suspicions from earlier in the book, but I still wish there had been more reflection and insight into Lohmeyer’s thinking throughout.
In the end, the value of this book for me was more as a cautionary tale (i.e., you can know many things about God, but if your inner spiritual life is not vital, it’s easy to be swept into morally compromising situations, both in your personal relationships and in your career).
Edwards seems to have taken a great deal of inspiration from Lohmeyer’s life. That’s great, but it wasn’t my gut reaction to the story. I wish Edwards had stated more explicitly what he hoped the reader would take away. If this book were an academic article, I would say that the conclusion needed a bit more synthesis and more discussion of its findings in light of other relevant literature (i.e., in this case, stories of other German Christians from the same time period).
May 2, 2020
This is a difficult book for me to rate. On the one hand it is a very competent, well researched, and scholarly biography of a man who was extremely important in the world of New Testament studies and who was a Christian that went against the prevailing attitudes of his day. However, on the other hand, this book raises lots of questions, more important than the life of Lohmeyer that it doesn’t answer.
Edwards does a great job of compiling and interviewing relevant sources on the life of Lohmeyer and I generally found his way of telling his story to be compelling. I have no reason to doubt any of the claims that Edwards makes and Edwards is able to stop himself from fan-girling too much over one of his personal heroes. He isn’t afraid to give criticism when necessary. As a biography this is successful because it isn’t a hagiography. Lohmeyer was a flawed man and is presented as such. Some negative reviews of this book believe that this is a flaw. They believe that a flawed person like Lohmeyer isn’t worth writing or reading about when we have Christians that “kept the faith,” like Bonhoeffer and others. We all like to imagine we would be Bonhoeffer, and I hope that we would be, but many, if not most of us, would be Lohmeyer. Caught between our faith and our duty and always wrestling with sin. I’m glad Edwards has brought his story to print.
My problem with this book though is that the deeper questions of his life and legacy aren’t addressed. At least how I identify them. Lohmeyer presents us with an interesting case study of Christian man caught in political crosshairs where the stakes were very high. We have a man who fought against liberal New Testament scholarship when it was in vogue, opposed the Nazis during their rise, was drafted and served as an officer in the Werhmacht, survived the war without tarnishing his reputation, only to return to East Germany and be killed by the Soviets for being a seditious person. This raises many questions, but the chief one for me is the following: how do we view people in the past? These days there is largely a movement to paint people in the past with broad brush strokes of “evil” or “good.” Bonhoeffer is good because he wasn’t a Nazi. Lohmeyer is bad because he was. History is never that simple. And this book does a good job of disrupting that dichotomy. I wish the final chapter of this book had been dedicated to trying to grant some clarity here, but alas, it didn’t. If it had I would say this is a must read for all Christians. It still is very important, but I think it will only he truly effective and helpful for those who are able to think through this question themselves.
Edwards does a great job of compiling and interviewing relevant sources on the life of Lohmeyer and I generally found his way of telling his story to be compelling. I have no reason to doubt any of the claims that Edwards makes and Edwards is able to stop himself from fan-girling too much over one of his personal heroes. He isn’t afraid to give criticism when necessary. As a biography this is successful because it isn’t a hagiography. Lohmeyer was a flawed man and is presented as such. Some negative reviews of this book believe that this is a flaw. They believe that a flawed person like Lohmeyer isn’t worth writing or reading about when we have Christians that “kept the faith,” like Bonhoeffer and others. We all like to imagine we would be Bonhoeffer, and I hope that we would be, but many, if not most of us, would be Lohmeyer. Caught between our faith and our duty and always wrestling with sin. I’m glad Edwards has brought his story to print.
My problem with this book though is that the deeper questions of his life and legacy aren’t addressed. At least how I identify them. Lohmeyer presents us with an interesting case study of Christian man caught in political crosshairs where the stakes were very high. We have a man who fought against liberal New Testament scholarship when it was in vogue, opposed the Nazis during their rise, was drafted and served as an officer in the Werhmacht, survived the war without tarnishing his reputation, only to return to East Germany and be killed by the Soviets for being a seditious person. This raises many questions, but the chief one for me is the following: how do we view people in the past? These days there is largely a movement to paint people in the past with broad brush strokes of “evil” or “good.” Bonhoeffer is good because he wasn’t a Nazi. Lohmeyer is bad because he was. History is never that simple. And this book does a good job of disrupting that dichotomy. I wish the final chapter of this book had been dedicated to trying to grant some clarity here, but alas, it didn’t. If it had I would say this is a must read for all Christians. It still is very important, but I think it will only he truly effective and helpful for those who are able to think through this question themselves.
June 26, 2019
This biography is exceptional. Edwards is an exceptional writer treating an exceptional story of an exceptional man. I apologize for repeating the word. My elation is pumped by my acquaintance with Lohmeyer’s work, which I read first in the late seventies, as well as the cast of scholars who made appearances in this telling of his life—sure, that heightened my interest and pleasure in reading this book. That thread of interest may hold little interest for you. The book, the story, the life of Lohmeyer spans WWI AND WWII, the partition of Germany and the Stalinist occupation (thus the title, Between the Swastika and the Sickle)—all configured for the reader and pertinent to the telling of Lohmeyer’s life and the unsolved questions orbiting his arrest, imprisonment, and execution. It’s a history, whodunit mystery, love story, theology, redemption-story, “Greek” tragedy, noble hero story, and some, biography. You could write a better review if you read this book. It’s meticulously chronicled by a biography uniquely suited to life of Ernst Lohmeyer.
June 2, 2019
In this gripping work, Edwards applies a detective's curiosity, a historian's bent, and a theologian's sensitivity in order to subvert the Soviet communist intent to erase the memory of 20th century New Testament scholar Ernst Lohmeyer "as though he never existed."
The reader is treated to a medley of layers, all relayed in clear and accessible prose: the story of Edwards' dogged, Sherlock pursuit of Lohmeyer's life and disappearance alongside his own parallels as a New Testament scholar, the characters and forces of theological study in 20th century Europe, the history and climate of Germany from the rise of Nazi-ism to the fall of communism, and of course, the life and writing of Ernst Lohmeyer in his courageous resistance to two totalitarian regimes and his valuable contribution to biblical scholarship. (A favorite portion is a fascinating epistolary exchange between Lohmeyer, Martin Buber, and Gerhard Kittel of TDNT fame.) Edwards masterfully weaves these elements together to form a driving narrative. But he doesn't hand us a mere, if multi-faceted, hagiography. In a moving closing chapter we learn to admire Lohmeyer not as an idolized saint, but as a redeemed sinner.
Edwards' book is written for an astute but non-academic readership, although it proves of great value to the interested scholar as well. (In the footnotes the German-reader will find the original of Edwards' primary source translations.) Edwards has done a service for the contemporary church not only by preserving Lohmeyer's memory, but providing her with a timely model. Lohmeyer, caught between nazi-ism and communism, offers a sorely needed example for our era buffeted by its own -isms (consumerism, nationalism, globalism, terrorism) by showing how to bear witness to truth in a post-truth age.
The reader is treated to a medley of layers, all relayed in clear and accessible prose: the story of Edwards' dogged, Sherlock pursuit of Lohmeyer's life and disappearance alongside his own parallels as a New Testament scholar, the characters and forces of theological study in 20th century Europe, the history and climate of Germany from the rise of Nazi-ism to the fall of communism, and of course, the life and writing of Ernst Lohmeyer in his courageous resistance to two totalitarian regimes and his valuable contribution to biblical scholarship. (A favorite portion is a fascinating epistolary exchange between Lohmeyer, Martin Buber, and Gerhard Kittel of TDNT fame.) Edwards masterfully weaves these elements together to form a driving narrative. But he doesn't hand us a mere, if multi-faceted, hagiography. In a moving closing chapter we learn to admire Lohmeyer not as an idolized saint, but as a redeemed sinner.
Edwards' book is written for an astute but non-academic readership, although it proves of great value to the interested scholar as well. (In the footnotes the German-reader will find the original of Edwards' primary source translations.) Edwards has done a service for the contemporary church not only by preserving Lohmeyer's memory, but providing her with a timely model. Lohmeyer, caught between nazi-ism and communism, offers a sorely needed example for our era buffeted by its own -isms (consumerism, nationalism, globalism, terrorism) by showing how to bear witness to truth in a post-truth age.
September 25, 2022
Ernst Loymeyer was a German theologian and seminary professor whose stand for Christian doctrine at Breslau University and the University of Greifswald brought him into conflict with the NSDAP and the German church movement before and during World War II. After the Soviet occupation of eastern Germany, his refusal to kowtow to hardline communists at Greifswald led to his arrest, trial, condemnation and execution. Because he had been executed as an enemy of the state, his family was never notified of his death, and any inquiry into his whereabouts risked drawing the wrath of the state. The author became interested in Professor Lohmeyer’s fate after reading a cryptic statement about his disappearance in the preface of Lohmeyer’s commentary on the Gospel of Mark. In the early 90s, after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of the Soviet Union, he and Professor Lohmeyer’s surviving family members were able to get answers and an exoneration. During Boris Yeltsin’s tenure as president of Russia, the Russian government adopted a policy of transparency and took the time to review old cases in which Germans had been condemned and executed by the Soviets. Of these cases 94% were exonerated, an open admission of past injustice by the Russian government. After the destruction Germany had wreaked upon the Soviet Union, the Soviets were more interested in revenge than in justice.
Here are some points of interest about Professor Lohmeyer:
• He obtained doctoral degrees in both theology (dissertation on covenant) and philosophy (dissertation on Anselm’s doctrine of the will).
• During World War I, he served in the German army on both the eastern and western fronts. It was during his time that he wrote his Habilitation (on the role of aroma in the Judeo-Christian tradition). An earned doctorate and a Habilitation were required for one to receive a call as professor at a German university. I confess being impressed that he was able to complete his Habilitation in his spare time while fighting a war.
• He started his academic career as an assistant professor at the University of Heidelberg before moving on to Breslau University, where he thrived as a theologian and even served as President of the university.
• In his monograph Kyrios Jesus, he argued that Philippians 2:5-11 as an early Christian hymn. In doing so, he defied the conventional wisdom among scholars that this passage, along with its high Christology, was a late addition to the New Testament. Thanks to him, scholars now acknowledge that high Christology was a feature of early Christianity.
• Hitler came to power while he was at Breslau. A large segment of the church in Germany adopted NSDAP ideology and became known as the German church. A minority of Christians chose to remain faithful, the most famous of them being Dietrich Bonhoffer; they are known as the Confessing church. Professor Lohmeyer’s choice to be part of the Confessing church, especially his emphatic rejection of antisemitism, brought him into conflict with professors and students at Breslau who had been bewitched by German church theology. As a result of this conflict, he was sacked and took a professorship at the University of Greifswald.
• He was at Greifswald when Germany invaded Poland in 1939. Although he was in his 50s, he was conscripted into the Wehrmacht, where he served as an officer on both the western and eastern fronts. Eventually, the University of Greifswald persuaded the German government that he was more valuable in the classroom, and he was discharged.
• Early on in the Soviet occupation after Germany’s surrender, he was appointed Dean at Greifswald and quickly came into conflict with fanatical communists. Many members of the NSDAP had joined only for career advancement and had neither been involved in or endorsed the infamous atrocities. The Tripartite Agreement acknowledged this and called for the removal of NSDAP members from their positions only if they had committed war crimes. Fanatical communists called for the dismissal of all professors who had been party members, but Professor Lohmeyer objected because such a move would both violate the Tripartite Agreement and would cripple the university. It was in this context that he was arrested.
• The charges aimed at him appear to pertain to his wartime service in the Wehrmacht. His unit had been involved in some war crimes in Poland before he had joined it; so, he couldn’t be charged for that. Because he had been placed in charge of occupied areas within the Soviet Union, he was charged with war crimes, charges he readily challenged on account of his efforts to be humane, seeing to the population’s food supply, etc. Ultimately, he was convicted and executed.
Regarding Professor Lohmeyer’s efforts to defend himself against the communist charges, the author believes that he misjudged the situation and wrongly believed that a reasoned defense based on evidence would actually count for something. That may well be the case, but I have my own thoughts on the matter. In Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl famously stated that a person can endure anything if he has a reason to endure. There is something equally profound, if not more so, that he said in his book. There is one thing that cannot be taken from you, how you choose to respond. I have read about Stalinist show trials. The accused were tortured until they broke and confessed to whatever they were accused of having done, regardless of their guilt. It doesn’t take Vulcan logic to realize that they are going to die. They can choose to give their murderers the satisfaction of a coerced confession that meant absolutely nothing, or they can die with their dignity. Professor Lohmeyer chose to die with his dignity intact, and I respect him for that.
Here are some points of interest about Professor Lohmeyer:
• He obtained doctoral degrees in both theology (dissertation on covenant) and philosophy (dissertation on Anselm’s doctrine of the will).
• During World War I, he served in the German army on both the eastern and western fronts. It was during his time that he wrote his Habilitation (on the role of aroma in the Judeo-Christian tradition). An earned doctorate and a Habilitation were required for one to receive a call as professor at a German university. I confess being impressed that he was able to complete his Habilitation in his spare time while fighting a war.
• He started his academic career as an assistant professor at the University of Heidelberg before moving on to Breslau University, where he thrived as a theologian and even served as President of the university.
• In his monograph Kyrios Jesus, he argued that Philippians 2:5-11 as an early Christian hymn. In doing so, he defied the conventional wisdom among scholars that this passage, along with its high Christology, was a late addition to the New Testament. Thanks to him, scholars now acknowledge that high Christology was a feature of early Christianity.
• Hitler came to power while he was at Breslau. A large segment of the church in Germany adopted NSDAP ideology and became known as the German church. A minority of Christians chose to remain faithful, the most famous of them being Dietrich Bonhoffer; they are known as the Confessing church. Professor Lohmeyer’s choice to be part of the Confessing church, especially his emphatic rejection of antisemitism, brought him into conflict with professors and students at Breslau who had been bewitched by German church theology. As a result of this conflict, he was sacked and took a professorship at the University of Greifswald.
• He was at Greifswald when Germany invaded Poland in 1939. Although he was in his 50s, he was conscripted into the Wehrmacht, where he served as an officer on both the western and eastern fronts. Eventually, the University of Greifswald persuaded the German government that he was more valuable in the classroom, and he was discharged.
• Early on in the Soviet occupation after Germany’s surrender, he was appointed Dean at Greifswald and quickly came into conflict with fanatical communists. Many members of the NSDAP had joined only for career advancement and had neither been involved in or endorsed the infamous atrocities. The Tripartite Agreement acknowledged this and called for the removal of NSDAP members from their positions only if they had committed war crimes. Fanatical communists called for the dismissal of all professors who had been party members, but Professor Lohmeyer objected because such a move would both violate the Tripartite Agreement and would cripple the university. It was in this context that he was arrested.
• The charges aimed at him appear to pertain to his wartime service in the Wehrmacht. His unit had been involved in some war crimes in Poland before he had joined it; so, he couldn’t be charged for that. Because he had been placed in charge of occupied areas within the Soviet Union, he was charged with war crimes, charges he readily challenged on account of his efforts to be humane, seeing to the population’s food supply, etc. Ultimately, he was convicted and executed.
Regarding Professor Lohmeyer’s efforts to defend himself against the communist charges, the author believes that he misjudged the situation and wrongly believed that a reasoned defense based on evidence would actually count for something. That may well be the case, but I have my own thoughts on the matter. In Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl famously stated that a person can endure anything if he has a reason to endure. There is something equally profound, if not more so, that he said in his book. There is one thing that cannot be taken from you, how you choose to respond. I have read about Stalinist show trials. The accused were tortured until they broke and confessed to whatever they were accused of having done, regardless of their guilt. It doesn’t take Vulcan logic to realize that they are going to die. They can choose to give their murderers the satisfaction of a coerced confession that meant absolutely nothing, or they can die with their dignity. Professor Lohmeyer chose to die with his dignity intact, and I respect him for that.
September 10, 2019
Ernst Lohmeyer, by any measure, was a truly remarkable man but he was unjustly treated in life as well as in death. He had a lasting impact on New Testament scholarship, for one thing. I’d never have had any idea that several scholarly axioms owe their origins to his research.
For example the widespread assumption in 19thC and early 20thC thought was that if a NT text contained high Christology then it clearly had to be late. Lohmeyer challenges and overturned all that by recognising the poetic form of the famous Christ hymn of Philippians 2 (namely a hymn or creed of some sort) which therefore hinted at origins earlier than the letter. Since Philippians is authentically Pauline this suggests Paul did not invent its high Christology. Time after time his meticulous research and logic made significant breakthroughs, shaking up the logjam of NT criticism’s stolid scepticism.
But it’s the man’s character that truly stands out. One of the few senior theologians in nazi Germany who resisted the eras prevailing anti-semitism, he publicly decried it and deliberately but courageously identified himself with the likes of Martin Buber. He never joined the nazi party unlike many colleagues but was appalled by it. Even as a soldier in both world wars he strove to bring moderation and proportion amidst horror and bloody excess. When he was posted to the eastern front in Ukraine, those under his command, both German and occupied Ukrainians, all testified to his fairness and reliability. This in large part led to his appointment to leadership at Griefswald university in soviet occupied Germany.
But no sooner had he navigated the vortex of hitler’s regime than he found himself in a parallel struggle in Stalin’s. This he would lose, despite his naive faith in its justice. He was arrested and secretly executed in 1946. His wife and family never knew what happened but had to assume the worst. Edwards discovered in the course of writing this book over recent years.
It is inspiring but the costs for Lohmeyer and his family are never shied away from in this book, if only mentioned in passing. These were complex situations and so it is inevitably messy. But seeing a man of faith doing his best to navigate them is truly inspiring.
My main regret is how often the author intrudes with the story of his own investigation. It is by no means as interesting or necessary (even though one can certainly admire his persistence and insight). Much better would have been to remain invisible like the best biographers.
Nevertheless I’m very glad to have read this book and will now keep an eye out for Lohmeyer’s writing with an eager eye.
For example the widespread assumption in 19thC and early 20thC thought was that if a NT text contained high Christology then it clearly had to be late. Lohmeyer challenges and overturned all that by recognising the poetic form of the famous Christ hymn of Philippians 2 (namely a hymn or creed of some sort) which therefore hinted at origins earlier than the letter. Since Philippians is authentically Pauline this suggests Paul did not invent its high Christology. Time after time his meticulous research and logic made significant breakthroughs, shaking up the logjam of NT criticism’s stolid scepticism.
But it’s the man’s character that truly stands out. One of the few senior theologians in nazi Germany who resisted the eras prevailing anti-semitism, he publicly decried it and deliberately but courageously identified himself with the likes of Martin Buber. He never joined the nazi party unlike many colleagues but was appalled by it. Even as a soldier in both world wars he strove to bring moderation and proportion amidst horror and bloody excess. When he was posted to the eastern front in Ukraine, those under his command, both German and occupied Ukrainians, all testified to his fairness and reliability. This in large part led to his appointment to leadership at Griefswald university in soviet occupied Germany.
But no sooner had he navigated the vortex of hitler’s regime than he found himself in a parallel struggle in Stalin’s. This he would lose, despite his naive faith in its justice. He was arrested and secretly executed in 1946. His wife and family never knew what happened but had to assume the worst. Edwards discovered in the course of writing this book over recent years.
It is inspiring but the costs for Lohmeyer and his family are never shied away from in this book, if only mentioned in passing. These were complex situations and so it is inevitably messy. But seeing a man of faith doing his best to navigate them is truly inspiring.
My main regret is how often the author intrudes with the story of his own investigation. It is by no means as interesting or necessary (even though one can certainly admire his persistence and insight). Much better would have been to remain invisible like the best biographers.
Nevertheless I’m very glad to have read this book and will now keep an eye out for Lohmeyer’s writing with an eager eye.
March 3, 2021
This biography was captivating, often intense, and sometimes heartwarming. I left with a few questions about Lohmeyer, especially his service in WWI and WWII, but overall I was intrigued by his life and character. The personal narrative of Edwards's pursuit of the true history of Lohmeyer was a great inclusion. I think anyone interested in 20th century theologians such has Barth or Bonhoeffer ought also to know about Lohmeyer's contribution and example. This book has also left me with a curiosity for the history of Soviet communism and east Germany, both being subjects of which I was taught little to nothing. That being said, the story about the encounter with Heinrich Fink absolutely baffled me--I am still wrestling with how such a theologian could exist (Soviet communist, liberation theologian/theologian of hope, anti-fascist, stasi agent). But anyways, I highly recommend the book for it's captivating story and historical significance.
December 3, 2019
A fascinating story of someone who has been forgotten not only deliberately by the Soviets but also by everyone else. Here's a story of a devout German Christian who also was a soldier in WWI and WWII. My only complaint is at some points this feels more like a biography of the author rather than Ernst Lohmeyer. Still well worth the read.
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