‘the ethical dimensions of patient care’ -- #47

5. ‘Respect’ as the anchor for assessing patients’ spiritual wellbeing:

‘Respect’ is foundational to effective assessment of patients’ spiritual wellbeing. The root meaning of respect – i.e., ‘to look at again and again’ -- is very vivid. There is very little benefit from attempting to assess a patient’s spiritual centeredness or spiritual distress if the professionals responsible for the patient’s care do not genuinely respect the patient.

It should not be taken for granted that caregivers possess the skill/art of truly respecting their patients. I suspect that many caregivers have been born into and/or raised in fairly conservative religious and social settings. I was. In the religious and social setting into which I was born and in which I was raised, I remember being taught to doubt the motives and to avoid taking seriously the ideas of all others who differed with ‘us’. In time I came to see this instruction as instruction in disrespecting others. Variations on instruction in disrespecting others are implicit, if not explicit, to some degree in virtually all organized constituencies or spheres in our society (including the medical sphere).

‘Respect’ does not mean ‘cater to’. It does mean ‘take very seriously’. This clarification calls attention to the rather complicated process by which the attending physician and medical team work with the patient and family/friends in decision-making.

The following set of questions illustrates the skill/art physicians and other caregivers need in order to be fully informed about and respectful of hospitalized patients who are experiencing spiritual distress:

1. “What makes for a good day for you?” – with attention given to how ‘good’ is described
   
   
2. “What are your difficult days like?” – with attention given to how ‘difficult’ is described
   
   
3. “Do your good days help you make it through your difficult days?” – with attention given to indications of how firm a ‘yes’ is and whether the good:difficult ratio is diminishing
   
   
4. “Do you more often find yourself waking up in the morning hoping for a good day or hoping not to have a bad day?” -- with attention given to how encouraged or discouraged the patient is
   
   
5. “What do you want me to know as I and the team consider how best to take care of you? – with attention oriented toward acceptable or unacceptable outcomes rather than toward management plan details
   
   
6. “What outcomes do you want to keep fighting for?” – with attention drawn to feasible outcomes
   
   
7. “Are you concerned that your illness will interfere with your participation in any activities or events in the near future that are especially important to you?” – with attention given to what demands these activities or events would make on the patient, to how feasible it is for the patient to participate, to what condition the patient hopes to be in at the time of these activities or events
   
   
8. “Do you have any questions or worries that are hard to talk about with your family or friends?” – with reassurances that such can be discussed with you in complete confidence
   
   
9. “Patients sometimes tell me they find themselves thinking ‘that would be worse than dying’. Have you had this thought?” – with attention given to what such conditions would be
   
   

‘the ethical dimensions of patient care’ -- #46

4. Defining/distinguishing ‘spirituality’ and ‘religion’:

I suggest that caregivers begin with this premise – i.e., all individuals are more than the insights made possible through various empirical analyses. In the health care sphere, this premise implies that patients are more than potential or actual illnesses and accidents; professionals, more than highly skilled scientists/technicians. To consider this ‘more’, a vocabulary and a manner of discourse -- in addition to scientific/clinical language -- are required. I have found that most (perhaps all) individuals have, with varying levels of sophistication, such vocabulary and manner of discourse. Such vocabulary and manner of discourse disclose, in the most elemental and inclusive way, each individual’s spirituality. An individual’s spirituality reaches, shapes, and sustains his/her integrity (i.e., wholeness, oneness, character).

The definition of ‘spirituality’ that has worked well over the years for me in opening discussions of this subject with health care professionals is:

‘Spirituality’ has to do with the sort of person a patient is, with the basis upon which her life has integrity and balance. A patient reveals her spiritual identity when she shares her core beliefs and life values and when she explains how she sustains these beliefs and values. Feelings of fear, loneliness, and guilt as well as happiness, contentment, and wonder are windows into a patient’s spirituality.

Some caregivers may question the absence of the word ‘God’ or a reference to a divine transcendence in this definition of spirituality. This definition represents an attempt to define spirituality so as to minimize the risk of eliminating individuals as ‘spiritual’ by definition. I strongly recommend against making either a reference to a divine transcendence or a claim of experience of/with a divine transcendence prerequisite to being considered ‘spiritual’. Instead, the transcendence that, in my judgment, is prerequisite to a fully inclusive approach to spirituality is the human spirit (i.e., the ‘more’ about human beings for which empirical analysis/explanation alone does not account). I am proposing (1) that this transcendent realm is present in/with all patients and (2) that this transcendent realm is very relevant to empirically-driven health care professionals who are expected to assess their patients’ spiritual wellbeing. With this transcendence – i.e., the human spirit -- in common, patients experience and express their spirituality in ways special/peculiar to each one (including but not limited to those who interpret their spirituality in terms of experience of/with a divine transcendence).

The definition of ‘religion’ that has worked well over the years for me in opening discussions such as this one is:

‘Religion’ has to do with the way many patients experience and express their spirituality. They center their lives on worshipful devotion to ‘God’ as a mystery that transcends human beings and the world. They are encouraged in their communities of faith to live this way through the study of sacred writings, the affirmation of core beliefs and life values, the sharing of inspirational stories, and the celebration of special rituals.

Some caregivers may express concern that this definition of religion is decidedly institutional in wording. There are certainly less institutional ways to define/nuance ‘religion’. However, in order to meet the Joint Commission regulations for assessing patients’ spiritual wellbeing and in light of the likely assumptions many caregivers hold re ‘religion’, it seems to me that an institutional definition of religion accomplishes the primary objective of distinguishing religion as a subset of the larger phenomenon of spirituality.

I suspect that a significant number of physicians and their support staff as well as most of their patients are more familiar with the following association of spirituality and religion:

‘Religious’ subdivides into --
‘Spiritual’ (a favorable assessment according to the particular religion’s criteria)
‘Not spiritual’ (an unfavorable assessment according to the particular religion’s criteria)

rather than:

‘Spiritual’ subdivides into --
‘Religious’ (in experience and expression)
‘Non-religious’ (in experience and expression)

The definition of and approach to spirituality followed by a hospital, in a clinic, and by a medical team need to be inclusive of all the patients for whom care is being delivered. Not all patients are religious. Not all patients are affiliated with a particular religion. Not all patients are members of any one sub-division of one particular religion. And crucial non-religious aspects of every patient’s spirituality are missed when ‘being spiritual’ is viewed as interchangeable with or a subset of ‘being religious’. Concerning these missed windows into a patient’s spirituality, here are some examples:

a morning/evening walk
participation in community/civic organizations
a refreshing hobby (e.g., photography or gardening or hiking or . . .)
participation in volunteer community service activities
reminders of life-changing experiences
travel opportunities
inspiring music
the company of a pet
a thought-provoking book
a favorite art gallery or museum
social pleasures (e.g., a glass of wine or a pleasant dinner or a theater outing or a sports event or . . .)
a special friend

‘the ethical dimensions of patient care’ -- #45

3. Understanding a patient’s spiritual distress:

The root meaning for ‘distress’ has to do with pressure, strain, . . . . To be distressed, therefore, is to be strained, tense, troubled, oppressed, threatened.

‘Spiritual distress’ has to do with the loss of peace, joy, hope, and resolve individuals experience (to varying degrees) when faced with unsettling life circumstances that threaten to overwhelm their core beliefs and values.

Responses to respiratory distress may range from ‘observe closely’ to ‘intensive intervention’. Caregivers are trained to think in terms of the least invasive/intrusive means (i.e., ‘do no harm’) to resolve a patient’s problem. The response to an asthmatic patient who is wheezing should be less intensive than the response to an asthmatic patient who is listless. The intervention should match the level of concern/danger. Caregivers should have an analogous framework by which to assess a patient’s spiritual wellbeing. Visualize a diagram with two paradigms – i.e., ‘spiritually centered’ and ‘spiritually distressed’ – separated by a threshold. Variations of the ‘spiritually centered’ paradigm range from ‘thriving’ to ‘holding’. Variations of the ‘spiritually distressed’ paradigm range from ‘troubled’ to ‘despairing’.

<-- ‘Spiritually Centered’ -------------|-------------‘Spiritually Distressed’----->


<--‘thriving’------------'holding’ ------|------‘troubled’ -----------‘despairing’-->


Caregivers cross a threshold when the paradigm or framework that most fully accounts for their observations about a patient shifts from ‘spiritually centered’ to ‘spiritually distressed’.

Patients who are spiritually centered are capable of participating meaningfully in the decisions about their care and can be counted on to be diligent in fulfilling their responsibilities. Some of these patients may appear to be undisturbed by their condition. They come across as attentive, hopeful, and self-confident. They ask insightful questions, make accurate comments about their condition, and have a sense of humor. Other of these patients may be struggling to maintain their balance and focus. They show signs of being fearful, upset, disoriented, and impatient. As these dispositions strengthen, they are moving toward and may eventually cross the threshold into the ‘spiritually distressed’ paradigm.

Patients who are spiritually distressed complicate the decision-making process and the management of their care. Some of these patients are troubled for inward as well as circumstantial reasons. They are losing confidence, motivation, hope. They may appear despondent or panicky. They may deny the reality of their situation. Other of these patients are despairing. They are immobilized, depressed, apathetic, fatalistic. Their spiritual distress may surpass in urgency their injury or disease. Professionals with special training for such situations (e.g., social workers, psychologists, chaplains, ethicists, . . .) may need to be more central to the medical team’s care for these patients.

‘the ethical dimensions of patient care’ -- #44

2. Objectives for considering a patient’s spiritual wellbeing:

Given the immediate attention in health care settings to patients’ physical needs, the objectives for integrating attention to spiritual wellbeing into patient care need to be precise and appropriately circumscribed. Hospitals and outpatient clinics do not have purposes parallel to spiritual retreat centers, synagogues, churches, mosques, . . . . What would be objectives for attending to a patient’s spiritual wellbeing that are consistent with the purposes of health care settings? Possible answers might be (1) to insure effective communication, (2) to show respect for and understanding of patient preferences regarding their medical care, (3) to maximize the health benefits associated with patients having the heart of a fighter, (4) to search for factors contributing to a patient’s failing health, (5) . . . .

Attending to a patients’ spiritual wellbeing, then, has to do with minimizing the spiritual disturbance she is experiencing due to being in a hospital and/or due to injury/illness in order to maximize the benefits from her spiritual resources (1) for making decisions about her care and (2) for realizing her full measure of healing. To make the objectives for assessing a patient’s spiritual wellbeing concrete, think in terms of assessing a patient’s centeredness – her balance and her focus. It is crucial that the patient has (or recovers) sufficient balance and focus to communicate well (which requires listening carefully, thinking courageously, and speaking clearly) and to participate appropriately in decisions about her care.

Assisting patients in the recovery of balance and focus is, in my judgment, the primary goal/consequence that makes giving attention to spirituality pertinent to caring for patients. (Fear of) serious illness or injury can challenge/threaten a patient’s balance and focus, thus raising crucial questions about the credibility of the spiritual foundation upon which she has built her life. A hospital is a particularly difficult setting in which to face this possibility. Sheer pain may eclipse a patient’s use of her spiritual resources. By being in a clinic exam room or in a hospital, she is distant from (or even cut off from) the activities and experiences essential to her spirituality. Then again, a patient’s spirituality may be contributing to her loss of balance and focus.

Loss of balance and focus may be a deeply significant process by which a patient’s spirituality is tested and eventually strengthened. How many individuals, before being confronted with (the possibility of) significant injury or disease, have ever taken seriously the existential premise that facing one’s finitude is prerequisite to authentic living? Whatever the fraction who have, the number is far too low for caregivers to assume that patients will retain their balance and focus when faced with (the real possibility of) life-threatening injury or disease. You, thus, may face a dilemma -- (1) on the one hand, you need your patients to be balanced and focused in order for management decisions to flow, (2) while on the other hand, you may have to give some of your patients time/opportunity to experience the spiritually refining/restructuring that may be necessary for them again to be centered.

‘the ethical dimensions of patient care’ -- #43

1. When to consider a patient’s spiritual wellbeing:

For several years, the senior physician at the Appalachia community health center where I worked before coming to Barnes-Jewish Hospital and I met weekly to review his most perplexing and burdening patient encounters. Below is a summary narrative of one such case:

It was a busy Wednesday afternoon. The patient was in her late-20s, had four children, and was now 32-weeks pregnant. The fetus’ fundal height was smaller than expected. She had sought no prenatal care. A colleague asked David to do an ultrasound. The patient was sitting on the edge of the exam table when David and his nurse entered the room. David helped the patient into a supine position. She was covered with a sheet up to her blouse. The nurse turned down the light. As David began the exam, the patient said barely above a whisper, “I have a lot of scars.” David’s first thought – “surgery . . . perhaps a previous c-section”. Once he saw the scars, he thought – “accident . . . perhaps a burn”. He asked the patient, “Did you have a car accident or . . .?” She interrupted and, as she starred at the wall, said quietly, “My mother set me on fire when I was three.” David had no response. It turned out the baby was fine. As we later reflected on the case, David explained to me, “Her life is so far removed from my range of experiences. I didn’t know how to respond. She will never be free of this childhood experience, these scars. If my mother had . . .” His voiced trailed off.

When the patient said “I have a lot of scars”, she was making a figurative as well as a literal observation. Simply put, she was saying, “My story is broken. Can you help me fix it.” (Howard Brody, MD/PhD, is my source for this way to frame a patient’s meaning.)

Imagine you and your medical team are looking down a hallway with patients in most of the rooms. Whether or not the patients in these rooms share similar definitions of or approaches to spirituality is immaterial to each patient. The patients are not together in the hospital as a community. What does matter to each patient ultimately is her own particular spirituality. However, you and your medical team – moving from room to room – need a definition of and an approach to spirituality that prepare you to meaningfully integrate the ‘spiritual’ and the ‘physical’ in caring for each patient. Finding/embracing such a definition of and approach to spirituality is no simple task.

Most hospitals and outpatient clinics exist to respond to patients’ physical needs and, therefore, are centered by scientific/clinical language and perspective. Scientific/clinical language is the ‘first language’ of health care settings. With symptoms, with injuries, with diseases, . . . – patients come (or are brought) anticipating that their physical conditions can be corrected or brought under control. The expansion/deepening of the scientific knowledge base and the introduction of increasingly sophisticated technologies continue to concentrate attention on patients’ physical interests in health care settings.

Patients hope that entering a hospital or a clinic will be no more than a pit stop or, at most, a repair shop delay in their day-to-day routines and life journeys. The circumstances that lead patients to seek medical attention are often benign and/or quickly resolved. In these situations, assessing a patient from a spiritual perspective may remain (by patient choice and/or by caregivers’ choice) on the periphery. By ‘periphery’ I mean that caregivers remain attentive to subtle or incidental indications that, in addition to the patient’s immediate problem, there may be a deeper ‘wound’. Such indications put the caregivers in the tough position of deciding whether they have the time and emotional capacity to determine if indeed there is a deeper ‘wound’. And the circumstances that lead patients to seek medical attention may in fact have to do with a deeper ‘wound’. In these situations, a spiritual language and perspective should be more centrally and intimately present for caregivers as they attend to the patient’s needs.

‘the ethical dimensions of patient care’ -- #42

With entries #42-#48, I want to share most recently revised draft of a Grand Rounds lecture on the subject of assessing patients’ spiritual wellbeing I was invited to deliver in August 2000 for the Obstetrics and Gynecology residents in the Phoenix area. I did not know personally any resident or faculty member in the Phoenix audience. In an attempt to justify why I had been asked to speak on this subject, I began by profiling my experience and training in four ways. First, I explained my three ‘weight-bearing’ positions (as distinguished from an ‘ethicist’ role) on the medical education/practice ‘field’ over the previous eight years – i.e., (1) as project coordinator and evaluator with an intervention project at the University of Miami for 125 cocaine-abusing women who had prematurely delivered cocaine-exposed babies, (2) as residency coordinator and ethics educator while on faculty with the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at Louisiana State University in New Orleans, and (3) as a member of the executive leadership team for a non-profit community health center serving medically un(der)insured individuals and families in three poverty-ridden Appalachia counties of eastern Tennessee and Kentucky. Second, I referenced my participating as an adjunct faculty member with Michigan State University’s Center for Ethics and Humanities in the Life Sciences in the development of a curriculum for addressing spirituality in medical education. I had corresponded for several years with Howard Brody, MD, PhD, at Michigan State as he attempted to keep his course in the medical school curriculum on ‘spirituality and the practice of medicine’ from collapsing into a ‘religion’ course. Third, I recalled my first wife’s fourteen-year struggle against her deterioration and eventual death due to multiple sclerosis. Fourth, I mentioned the impetus for clarifying my thought re ‘spirituality and medicine’ that came from preparing to participate in the creation of an educational video at Vanderbilt for hospital employees re assessing patients’ spiritual needs.

The ‘scrapheap’ Job -- #77

[August 2000 journal entry]

Is it plausible to see the composer of the story/play Job most thoroughly represented in the Tempter/Accuser? This idea recently crossed my mind as I have moved to the conclusions (1) that the ‘scrapheap’ Job did in essence/spirit curse ‘God’ and (2) that the ‘scrapheap’ Job had lost his rationale/motive for acting altruistically/sacrificially toward others. Concerning #1, it seems to me that this conclusion can only be avoided by arguments based on technicality re the definition of ‘cursing’. Concerning #2, I have not yet found indication in the story/play that the ‘scrapheap’ Job –- either in thought or action – has other than the ‘religious’ T/O paradigm in his rationale/motive for acting in the interests of others. In other words, the Tempter/Accuser was pretty much on target re Job’s character.

The ‘scrapheap’ Job -- #76

[August 2000 journal entry]

Can correlations be seen between the prologue picture of ‘God’ in the story/play Job and pictures of ‘God’ in other texts in Jewish scripture or Christian scripture?

The ‘scrapheap’ Job -- #75

[August 2000 journal entry]

What does the ‘scrapheap’ Job’s offering a sacrifice (in the epilogue) for his three close friends suggest for how his post-tragedy reentry should be imagined/portrayed? Is there any reason to interpret the story/play to suggest that others than the three close friends should be thought of as hearing or knowing Job’s remarks from the ‘scrapheap’? Is there any reason to interpret the story/play to suggest that anyone other than the three close friends knows of the sacrifice in their behalf? Is the sacrifice in the epilogue suggesting that the ‘scrapheap’ Job is endorsing the ‘P’(riestly) perception of ‘God’?

The ‘scrapheap’ Job -- #74

[August 2000 journal entry]

Perhaps – in addition to silent presence -- the courage to say “I don’t understand either” and then quickly return the ‘scrapheap’ Job’s questions to him for further comment would be the way the missing character in the story would gently but persistently prompt the ‘scrapheap’ Job. To do so, s/he would have to possess a radically (i.e., to the root) different perspective from the ‘religious’ T/O paradigm that is of ultimate importance to the ‘scrapheap’ Job’s three close friends.

The ‘scrapheap’ Job -- #73

[August 2000 journal entry]

Is there any indication in the story/play Job that the ‘scrapheap’ Job continues -- after the tragedies had struck him and those immediately around him -- to pursue the altruistic values attributed to him before the tragedies struck? that altruistic values are so rooted in him that he continues to think and react -- during as well as after the tragedies – in a manner consistent with the unique friendship he expects from his three close friends (see 6:14 in the text)? Or does his dependence on the ‘religious’ T/O paradigm turn him inward, take away his incentive/motive for being this sort of person, and leave him inattentive to other sufferers around him? Are all references to his virtues in the past tense? The story/play leaves the impression that the ‘scrapheap’ Job is abandoned and alone except for the painful presence of his three close friends. Is there any indication that his mind’s eye sufficiently clears/focuses to see and identify himself with other sufferers? Or is he stuck in the “There’s been a big mistake! I don’t belong here!” mindset created by his dependence on the ‘religious’ T/O paradigm?

Fragment -- #151

[September 2000 journal entry]

What anchors a well-lived life? For me, the anchors are (1) a simple/unambiguous statement re who I am and intend to be, (2) the realization that I am finite, (3) a ‘from below’ alignment with and respect for the most vulnerable.

Fragment -- #150

[September 2000 journal entry]

By what criteria should an experience be called ‘tragic’ – e.g., timing? severity of circumstances? quantity/quality of lost potential?

Fragment -- #149

[July 2000 journal entry]

In a recent conversation with my new artist/theatre friend Dean, he asked me to explain my use of the ‘wilderness’ metaphor. Among the reflections I shared with Dean were – (1) the centrality of silence/solitude, (2) being in natural (rather than artificial) surroundings, (3) the necessity of simplicity, (4) the absence of conventional societal spheres, (5) the necessity to be self-reliant, (6) the dangers, (7) the pressure to concentrate, (8) the importance of imagination, (9) . . . .

‘Wilderness’ experiences may come suddenly/abruptly. They may not. ‘Wilderness’ experiences may be entered willingly. They may not. ‘Wilderness’ experiences may be entered naively. They may not. ‘Wilderness’ experiences may become home. They may not.

For me, the transition from a sense of place within societal spheres to the existential isolation of the ‘wilderness’ was gradual enough to adjust to living without the assumptions and props of the various societal spheres within which I was raised and continued to live until several years into my first wife’s illness. Perhaps this gradualness is the reason I did not think of ‘terror’ (as did Dean) when explaining to him my use of the ‘wilderness’ metaphor. He proposed that I had been a bit naïve in hoping/striving for some radically different direction to be possible within the ‘religious’ sphere. I told him that, looking back, I agree. It took me so long to get past this naiveté for several reasons, not the least of which was my awareness that to act consistently would leave an unbridgeable chasm between me and those closest to me.

Fragment -- #148

[July 2000 journal entry]

What centers/anchors who I am (aspire to be)?

1. To be(come) the character absent in the story/play Job (i.e., the character who is able to be with the ‘scrapheap’ Job without harming him).
   
2. To be the sort of person who can be truly present with the most vulnerable, difficult, troubled, harmed, shunned, displaced.
   
3. To consider my most essential/radical ‘community’ experiences to be found in extending gestures of respect toward individuals from whom there is no reason to expect similar gestures in return.
4. To be intellectually critical and thorough without restrictions re previously held ideas.
   
5. To be consistent re who I am (perceived to be) across/within the various situations in which I find myself.
   
6. To be consistent in how I participate in the multiple conversations and discussions central to my work and life experience.

Fragment -- #147

[August 2000 journal entry]

The premise of the song The Rose is again being proven true for me – i.e., it is not possible to have the richness of an unconditional relationship without also having the piercing pain that may be caused either

1. by accident or injury,
2. by the end of circumstances within which such a relationship has developed, and/or
   
3. the eventual end of such a relationship in death.

And the converse of the premise is also being confirmed again for me – i.e., the piercing pain does not outweigh the sacred experience of an unconditional relationship. The circumstances and roles are changing. But the essence remains real and true.

A ‘non-religious’ view of Dietrich Bonhoeffer -- #122

[August 2000 journal entry]

I plan to think in a more penetrating way about Bonhoeffer’s observation in his prison correspondence addressed to Eberhard Bethge that he had become more at ease speaking of ‘God’ with ‘non-religious’ than with ‘religious’ individuals (see the 30 April 1944 prison letter). What was the nature of the ‘God’ language he thought was credible with ‘non-religious’ individuals? How does this observation square with his proposition later in his prison correspondence with Bethge that “God as a working hypothesis in morals, politics, or science has been surmounted and abolished; and the same thing has happened in philosophy and religion” ( see 8 June 1944 and 16 July 1944 prison letters)? Was his ‘God’ language with ‘non-religious’ individuals less vulnerable to idolatrous use?

A ‘non-religious’ view of Dietrich Bonhoeffer -- #121

[August 2000 journal entry]

It seems to me neither Job’s ‘scrapheap’ thoughts/insights nor Bonhoeffer’s prison ideas should be seen as having had sufficient time to mature when they (including Bonhoeffer had he survived the war) would be facing the pull/pressure to conform associated with reentering societal spheres (including the ‘religious’ sphere).

A ‘non-religious’ view of Dietrich Bonhoeffer -- #120

[August 2000 journal entry]

A ‘non-religious’ approach to ethics and spirituality is distinguishable from a ‘religious’ approach in that the former requires a ‘from below’ rationale/justification rather than the ‘from above’ appeal to ‘revelation’ characteristic of the ‘religious’ sphere re the core for being human from which ethics and spirituality form. For me, this core has to do with the presence/exercise of such traits as

1. language, memory, imagination, creativity, . . . ;
   
2. finitude, vulnerability, death;
   
3. pain and suffering;
   
4. ease, comfort, peace.

The ‘non-religious’ path I am experiencing is distinguishable from a ‘religious’ path on each of these four sets of traits. It is characteristic of societal spheres (including but not limited to the ‘religious’ sphere)

1. to permit such traits as language, memory, imagination, and creativity only to the point that the credibility of the sphere is threatened,
   
2. to deny or diminish the reality of finitude, vulnerability, and death,
   
3. to consider pain and suffering only to the point that the credibility of the sphere is threatened.

A ‘non-religious’ view of Dietrich Bonhoeffer -- #119

[August 2000 journal entry]

It seems to me that Bonhoeffer’s decision to join the Abwehr circle of conspirators entailed a course of action that implied a ‘without God’ approach to ethics and spirituality in that he joined a direct, definite, and final attempt to end the Hitler-driven tragedy for which neither the ‘religious’ T/O paradigm nor his pre-1939 ‘Confessing Church’ perspective could justify/support.