Life Fragments and the Divine Counterpoint

One thing that I always found appealing in Bonhoeffer's writings is his frequent utilization of musical imagery. Terms such as polyphony, counterpoint, and cantus firmus frequently pop up. For instance, in one of the letters written from prison he reflects:

What matters, it seems to me, is whether one still sees, in this fragment of life that we have, what the whole was intended and designed to be.... After all, there are such things as fragments that are only fit for the garbage... and others which remain meaningful for hundreds of years, because only God could perfect them, so they must remain fragments—I’m thinking, for example, of [Bach's] the Art of the Fugue. If our life is only the most remote reflection of such a fragment, in which, even for a short time, the various themes gradually accumulate and harmonize with one another and in which the great counterpoint is sustained from beginning to end—so that finally, when they cease, all one can do is sing the chorale “Vor deinen Thron tret’ ich hiermit” [“I come before thy throne”]—then it is not for us, either, to complain about this fragmentary life of ours, but rather even to be glad of it.

I really love this image of how our fragmentary experiences—the spiritual spurts and frequent failures, the notable achievements and glaring disappointments, the noble aspirations and limiting realities—are held together by the unifying theme of divine love. Indwelling that vision enables us to be content and dwell in the present, with gratitude, rather than being incessantly ravaged by different forms of arrival fallacy. (The term was coined by the Harvard psychologist Tal Ben-Shahar to denote “the illusion that once we make it, once we attain our goal or reach our destination, we will reach lasting happiness.")