Bishop Anthony Taylor’s powerful statement adds fuel to the growing moral uprising from U.S. Catholic leaders against Trump-Vance’s MAGA authoritarianism.
Thoughtful and concerned—we all need to be paying attention to these issues and respecting what these outcomes might be. The sanctity of a democratic society is at risk here. We must understand the urgency.
Fear, Conscience, and Courage: Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Witness under Nazism
Bonhoeffer embodied a rare blend of pastoral care, theological scholarship, and political engagement. As a leader in the Confessing Church and a minister who aided persecuted Jews, he moved from ecclesial critique to concrete resistance against the Nazi regime. By the early 1940s he was connected to plots to remove Hitler; arrested in April 1943, he was executed in April 1945. Bonhoeffer’s life and writings illuminate how fear operates as a moral and political force and how conscience and solidarity can demand costly courage.
Fear under Nazism operated at multiple, interacting levels. From above, the regime deliberately cultivated terror. State police, concentration camps, and a legal order that criminalized dissent made opposition perilous. Arbitrary arrests, surveillance, and harsh reprisals reshaped public life into a field of prudence and survival. Personal fear compounded these pressures: ordinary people weighed the risks to themselves and their families—loss of livelihood, imprisonment, or death—when considering whether to speak or act. Finally, fear was harnessed and amplified by propaganda that promised security and national renewal; for many exhausted by Weimar instability, the promise of stability made conformity or active support seem rational.
Bonhoeffer diagnosed these dynamics with theological subtlety rather than moral agitation. He developed a theology of “costly grace” that rejected spiritual comforts divorced from moral responsibility. True discipleship, he insisted, can demand sacrifice; courage, for him, was not the absence of fear but the decision to obey conscience despite fear’s pressure. Central to his ethic was responsibility for the other: Christian fidelity requires solidarity with the suffering, and fear that narrows concern to self and family conflicts with the command to love one’s neighbor. Bonhoeffer’s thought also exemplified the interplay of reflection and action. His theology deepened in crisis, and he moved from critical witness to direct political involvement because silence in the face of systematic evil, he believed, made one complicit.
Explaining why so few resisted requires attention to both structural constraints and human psychology. The Nazis’ security apparatus and its readiness to punish dissent narrowed the space for organized opposition; networks that existed were often fragmented and vulnerable to infiltration. Social and economic pressures—material insecurity, wartime mobilization, and sustained propaganda—encouraged conformity as many prioritized survival and family welfare. Institutional failures amplified these tendencies: churches, universities, and professions in many cases capitulated, preferred legalism to prophetic witness, or absorbed nationalist narratives, leaving individuals with fewer resources for resistance. Moral confusion and rationalization—appeals to legality, obedience, or alleged necessity—helped normalize complicity for many.
Historical judgment of the German people in this period therefore requires nuance. Millions participated in or benefited from Nazi policies; others risked everything to resist; many more accommodated out of fear, confusion, or apathy. Broad moral verdicts can flatten this complexity. Even Bonhoeffer’s own life resists simple categorization: a theologian who turned to conspiratorial action, he raises difficult questions about the relationship between moral duty and political violence.
Bonhoeffer’s legacy offers enduring lessons. Institutions need moral clarity and the courage to resist co-optation, because silence in the face of injustice is itself a moral failing. Courage is practical and costly; recognizing the real dangers people faced helps explain their choices without excusing wrongdoing. Ethical and theological resources matter: concepts of human dignity and responsibility can either spur resistance or be reshaped to justify complicity. Finally, any judgment about conduct under tyranny must balance sympathy for those constrained by mortal risk with clear accountability for perpetrators and enablers.
In confronting how fear—systemic, personal, and cultural—erodes moral agency, Bonhoeffer insisted that conscience, solidarity, and costly discipleship sometimes demand action that risks everything. His life is both a warning and a summons: fear corrodes communal ethics, but faith and moral conviction can compel resistance when silence would be a form of collaboration with evil.
Deeply appreciative that Catholic leaders, many faith leaders are speaking out loudly and clearly against the dehumanization of our immigrants neighbors. I’m aware that many religious leaders failed to speak out in 1930’s Germany
None of the bishops and the two Miami-Dade archbishops have spoken out in agreement with Pope Leo XIV, which is most obvious in a state with such a large Hispanic and immigrant population. Until they do — and IF they do — I can take comfort in the courage and commitment of other Church leaders.
I am overjoyed to see bishops speak out at last. I hope this trend becomes a groundswell.
Proud of my bishop!
Thoughtful and concerned—we all need to be paying attention to these issues and respecting what these outcomes might be. The sanctity of a democratic society is at risk here. We must understand the urgency.
It’s times like these I’m particularly grateful to no longer be Protestant.
Fear, Conscience, and Courage: Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Witness under Nazism
Bonhoeffer embodied a rare blend of pastoral care, theological scholarship, and political engagement. As a leader in the Confessing Church and a minister who aided persecuted Jews, he moved from ecclesial critique to concrete resistance against the Nazi regime. By the early 1940s he was connected to plots to remove Hitler; arrested in April 1943, he was executed in April 1945. Bonhoeffer’s life and writings illuminate how fear operates as a moral and political force and how conscience and solidarity can demand costly courage.
Fear under Nazism operated at multiple, interacting levels. From above, the regime deliberately cultivated terror. State police, concentration camps, and a legal order that criminalized dissent made opposition perilous. Arbitrary arrests, surveillance, and harsh reprisals reshaped public life into a field of prudence and survival. Personal fear compounded these pressures: ordinary people weighed the risks to themselves and their families—loss of livelihood, imprisonment, or death—when considering whether to speak or act. Finally, fear was harnessed and amplified by propaganda that promised security and national renewal; for many exhausted by Weimar instability, the promise of stability made conformity or active support seem rational.
Bonhoeffer diagnosed these dynamics with theological subtlety rather than moral agitation. He developed a theology of “costly grace” that rejected spiritual comforts divorced from moral responsibility. True discipleship, he insisted, can demand sacrifice; courage, for him, was not the absence of fear but the decision to obey conscience despite fear’s pressure. Central to his ethic was responsibility for the other: Christian fidelity requires solidarity with the suffering, and fear that narrows concern to self and family conflicts with the command to love one’s neighbor. Bonhoeffer’s thought also exemplified the interplay of reflection and action. His theology deepened in crisis, and he moved from critical witness to direct political involvement because silence in the face of systematic evil, he believed, made one complicit.
Explaining why so few resisted requires attention to both structural constraints and human psychology. The Nazis’ security apparatus and its readiness to punish dissent narrowed the space for organized opposition; networks that existed were often fragmented and vulnerable to infiltration. Social and economic pressures—material insecurity, wartime mobilization, and sustained propaganda—encouraged conformity as many prioritized survival and family welfare. Institutional failures amplified these tendencies: churches, universities, and professions in many cases capitulated, preferred legalism to prophetic witness, or absorbed nationalist narratives, leaving individuals with fewer resources for resistance. Moral confusion and rationalization—appeals to legality, obedience, or alleged necessity—helped normalize complicity for many.
Historical judgment of the German people in this period therefore requires nuance. Millions participated in or benefited from Nazi policies; others risked everything to resist; many more accommodated out of fear, confusion, or apathy. Broad moral verdicts can flatten this complexity. Even Bonhoeffer’s own life resists simple categorization: a theologian who turned to conspiratorial action, he raises difficult questions about the relationship between moral duty and political violence.
Bonhoeffer’s legacy offers enduring lessons. Institutions need moral clarity and the courage to resist co-optation, because silence in the face of injustice is itself a moral failing. Courage is practical and costly; recognizing the real dangers people faced helps explain their choices without excusing wrongdoing. Ethical and theological resources matter: concepts of human dignity and responsibility can either spur resistance or be reshaped to justify complicity. Finally, any judgment about conduct under tyranny must balance sympathy for those constrained by mortal risk with clear accountability for perpetrators and enablers.
In confronting how fear—systemic, personal, and cultural—erodes moral agency, Bonhoeffer insisted that conscience, solidarity, and costly discipleship sometimes demand action that risks everything. His life is both a warning and a summons: fear corrodes communal ethics, but faith and moral conviction can compel resistance when silence would be a form of collaboration with evil.
I'm sharing this column on Facebook where I have many Catholic friends.
Deeply appreciative that Catholic leaders, many faith leaders are speaking out loudly and clearly against the dehumanization of our immigrants neighbors. I’m aware that many religious leaders failed to speak out in 1930’s Germany
Thank you, Bishop Taylor! You are exactly right.
Please continue amplifying this message and righteous stand yourself and throughout the clergy.
Never let truth, justice and love of neighbor be silenced. 🙏
None of the bishops and the two Miami-Dade archbishops have spoken out in agreement with Pope Leo XIV, which is most obvious in a state with such a large Hispanic and immigrant population. Until they do — and IF they do — I can take comfort in the courage and commitment of other Church leaders.
God bless you Bishop Taylor🙏😇
Thank you Bishop Taylor!