“No, nothing so serious. But the seminary is still not sanetioned since the leaders of the Confessing Church asked Dietrich to direct it two years ago. It is independent, and it serves as a continual slap in the face of the requirements the national socialists have imposed on the university seminarians. It is probably only a matter of time before they move to do something.”

“What can they do?”

“The Nazis can do anything they want, it seems,” sighed Heinrich mordantly. “What they will do is another question. They dismissed Karl Barth from Bonn University. They outlawed the training centers of the Confessing Church. They have Nazi-ized the National Protestant Church. They have outlawed Jewish businesses, forbidden Jewish/Aryan marriages, canceled Jewish citizenship—”

He stopped abruptly. The words hit too close to home, but neither made comment.

“They can and will do anything, it seems,” the baron continued after a moment, “to rid Germany of all but a hollow, shallow, empty religion that worships our so-called Führer rather than God.”

The room was silent a minute, as the implications of the baron’s words settled over them.

“I must learn to control the passion I feel over it,” said Heinrich, chastising himself. “I should not say such things. But I fear for Dietrich. He is far more outspoken. I honestly do not think he even fears death. He has been flying in the Nazis’ face for years, making many enemies with his bold pro-Jewish sentiments and his pronouncements to the church to awaken from its complacency.”

“What is it you told me he said to you recently?”

“I know what you’re thinking of. He said, ‘When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.’”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“He said it again yesterday. It is one of the cornerstones of this series of teachings he is giving on discipleship. He is putting together a book from his lectures too. Listen—I was so struck with something he said yesterday that I wrote it down.”

As the baron spoke, he rose and walked to where he had laid his coat upon his return. From the inside vest pocket he pulled a single sheet of paper. He unfolded it as he walked slowly back and resumed his chair.

“Whenever Dietrich speaks, it all mixes so powerfully together—discipleship, the call of Christ to die, and what he calls cheap and costly grace. Here’s what I wrote down.”

He looked at the paper in front of him a moment, then read to his wife:

Cheap grace means grace alone does everything, and so everything can remain as it was before. Let the Christian live like the rest of the world, let him model himself on the world’s standards. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance.