Others like the worship leader’s handbook Features >>
About the Book
"The Worship Leader's Handbook" by Tom Kraeuter is a comprehensive guide for those leading worship in a church setting. It covers topics such as spiritual preparation, leading a team effectively, choosing songs, creating a set list, and navigating the challenges of leading worship. The book provides practical advice and insights to help worship leaders grow in their role and effectively lead others in worship.
Sophie Scholl
Sophia Scholl was a German student, active in the White Rose – a non-violent resistance group to Hitler and the Nazi party. In 1943, she was caught delivering anti-war propaganda and, with her brother Hans Scholl, was executed for high treason. Sophie Scholl has become an important symbol of anti-Nazi resistance in Germany.
Sophie Scholl was born in Forchtenberg, Germany on 9 May 1921. She was the fourth out of six children. Her father Robert was the Burgermeister (Mayor) of Forchtenberg am Kocher, in Baden-Württemberg.
She was brought up as a Lutheran Christian, and her childhood was relatively happy and carefree. However, in 1933, Hitler came to power and began controlling all aspects of German society. Initially, Sophie was unaffected, but her father and brothers were critical of the Nazi regime and this political criticism filtered through to leave a strong impression on the young Sophie.
At the age of twelve, she joined a pseudo-Nazi organisation, the League of German Girls. Initially, Sophie enjoyed the activities of the group, and she was promoted to Squad Leader. However, after her initial enthusiasm with the activities of the group, Sophie became uneasy about the conflict between her conscience and the creeping Nazi ideology of the organisation. In 1935, Nuremberg Laws were passed which increased the discrimination against Jews, banning them from many public places. Sophie complained when two of her young Jewish friends were barred from joining the League of German Girls. She was also reprimanded for reading from the ‘Book of Songs’ by the banned Jewish writer Heinrich Heine. Scholl indicated her rebelliousness by replying, that Heine was essential for understanding German literature. These incidents and the bans against Jews led to Sophie taking a much more critical attitude to the Nazi regime. She began choosing friends more carefully – people who were politically sympathetic to her viewpoint.
In 1937, her brothers and some of her friends were arrested for participating in the German Youth Movement. This incident left a strong impression on Sophie and helped to crystallise her opposition to the Nazi regime. In 1942, her father was later sent to prison for making a critical remark about Hitler. He referred to Hitler as “God’s Scourge.”
Sophie was an avid reader and developed an interest in philosophy and theology. She developed a strong Christian faith which emphasised the underlying dignity of every human being. This religious faith proved an important cornerstone of her opposition to the increasingly all-pervading Nazi ideology of German society. Sophie also developed a talent for art – drawing and painting, and she became acquainted with artistic circles which, in Nazi terms, were labelled degenerate.
In 1940, after the start of the Second World War, she graduated from her Secondary School and became a kindergarten teacher at the Frobel Institute. However, in 1941, she was conscripted into the auxiliary war service working as a nursery teacher in Blumberg. Sophie disliked the military regime of war service and started to become involved in passive resistance to the war effort.
After six months in the National Labour Service, in May 1942, she enrolled in the University of Munich as a student of biology and philosophy. With her brother Hans, she became associated with a group of friends who shared similar artistic and cultural interests but also developed shared political views, which increasingly opposed the Nazi regime they lived in. She came into contact with philosophers such as Theodor Haecker, who posed questions of how individuals should behave under a dictatorship.
The White Rose Movement
The White Rose was an informal group who sought to oppose the war and Nazi regime. It was founded in early 1942 by Hans Scholl, Willia Graf and Christoph Probst. They wrote six anti-Nazi resistance leaflets and distributed them across Munich. Initially, Sophie was not aware of the group, but when she found out her brother’s activities, she was keen to take part. Sophie participated in distributing leaflets and carrying messages. As a woman, she was less likely to be stopped by the SS.
The leaflets of the White Rose contained messages, such as
“Nothing is so unworthy of a nation as allowing itself to be governed without opposition by a clique that has yielded to base instinct…Western civilization must defend itself against fascism and offer passive resistance, before the nation’s last young man has given his blood on some battlefield.”
However, there was a pervasive police state which kept a high degree of surveillance on any resistance activity. After leaflets had been found at the University of Munich, the local Gestapo stepped up its efforts to catch the resistors. Hans, Willi and Alex also began painting anti-Nazi slogans on buildings in Munich.
On 18 February 1943, Sophie and other members of the White Rose were arrested for distributing anti-war leaflets. The leaflets were seen by Jakob Schmidt, a local Nazi party member. Sophie and Hans were interrogated by Nazi officials and, despite trying to protect each other, just four days later were sent to court. The trial was presided over by Roland Freisler, chief justice of the People’s Court of the Greater German Reich. Freisler was an ardent Nazi; with great vigour and a manic intensity, he frequently roared denunciations at the accused.
Despite the hostility and appearing in court with a broken leg after her interrogation. Sophie replied to the court:
“Somebody, after all, had to make a start. What we wrote and said is also believed by many others. They just don’t dare express themselves as we did.”
She also said:
“You know the war is lost. Why don’t you have the courage to face it?”
No defence witnesses were called and, after a very short trial, the judge passed a guilty verdict, with a sentence of death. The sentence was to be carried out early the next morning by guillotine.
Walter Roemer, the chief of the Munich district court, supervised the execution, he later described Sophie’s courage in facing her execution. He reports that Sophie’s last words were:
“How can we expect righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone willing to give himself up individually to a righteous cause. Such a fine, sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter, if through us, thousands of people are awakened and stirred to action?”
The guards were impressed with the courage of the resistors and relaxed the rules to allow Hans, Christoph and Sophie to meet before their execution.
After the execution of Sophie, Hans and Christoph, the Gestapo continued their relentless investigation. Other members of the White Rose were caught and executed. Many students from the University of Hamburg were either executed or sent to concentration camps.
Legacy of Sophie Scholl
In a poll to find the greatest German, Sophie and her brother were voted to be fourth. Amongst the young generation, under 40, they were the most popular. On February 22, 2003, a bust of Sophie Scholl was unveiled by the government of Bavaria in the Walhalla temple. In 2005, a movie about Sophie Scholl’s last days was made featuring Julia Jentsch (Sophie Scholl: The Final Days)
Motivations of Sophie Scholl
Several factors inspired Sophie Scholl to take part in this highly dangerous resistance. Firstly, her family shared a dislike of the Nazi regime. Both her brothers and father had been arrested for making critical comments. Her father said to the family:
“What I want for you is to live in uprightness and freedom of spirit, no matter how difficult that proves to be,” (link)
She lived in a family environment which encouraged opposition to Hitler.
Sophie had a strong Christian faith and was motivated after hearing speeches by anti-Nazi pastors. She read two volumes of Cardinal John Henry Newman’s sermons which made a strong impression on Sophie, especially his sermon on the ‘theology of conscience.’ During her interrogation, she referred to this ideology as a defence.
“I am, now as before, of the opinion that I did the best that I could do for my nation. I, therefore, do not regret my conduct and will bear the consequences that result from my conduct.”
Official examination transcripts (February 1943); Bundesarchiv Berlin, ZC 13267, Bd. 3
Her boyfriend Fritz Hartnagel was on the Eastern Front; he reported to Sophie the dreadful conditions of war, the German failure at Stalingrad and also witnessing war crimes undertaken by German and SS forces.
Reports of mass killings of Jews were also widely shared amongst members of the White Rose. This features in the second White Rose pamphlet.
“Since the conquest of Poland 300,000 Jews have been murdered, a crime against human dignity…Germans encourage fascist criminals if no chord within them cries out at the sight of such deeds. An end in terror is preferable to terror without end.”
Sophie Scholl and other members of the White Rose remain a potent symbol of how people can take a courageous action to resist, even the most brutal totalitarian regime.
Citation: Pettinger, Tejvan. “Biography of Sophie Scholl”, Oxford, UK – www.biographyonline.net. Published 12th Aug 2014. Last updated 8th March 2017.
Are You a Friend to the Poor
God’s heart is for the least of these: the suffering, lost, and lonely. "Do you know the name of a poor person?" a young man in his twenties who was sharing about his experiences as a missionary in Moldova posed the question to me in church. His phrase was tricky because if he'd said, "Do you care about the poor?" I might have tossed it in that drawer where you keep all the stuff you've heard a million times and are supposed to ponder but probably won't do much with. When he asked if I knew the name of a poor person he exposed a glaring gap in my Christianity: Whose name did I know? Not whose face had I passed on 21st Street on my way to grab coffee; not what homeless man had I handed a dollar for the paper he peddles at the stoplight; not what anonymous tsunami victim had received an online donation I'd made. Whose name did I know? I was left to consider this very important question because if I didn't know the name of a poor person, I didn't really know a poor person. (This is one of the biggest problems with going to church — the possibility of getting all convicted and stuff.) I always knew that if God's heart was for anything it was for the least of these: the suffering, sick, needy, uneducated, foreigner, lost, lonely — this much was clear. And it's true that these were people I cared about, prayed for, and on whose behalf I tithed, but how many of them called me friend? Who had my phone number, been to dinner at my house, or sat beside me at church? Without condemnation, I had to recognize that I was someone who cared for the poor mostly from a distance but who had yet to intimately involve herself. My first step: Learn a name. In the Law of Moses God commanded the Israelites to leave their extra sheaves, olives, and grapes for the alien, fatherless, and widow — for all the people who didn't have what the Israelites had and who didn't have the means to get what they had. At the end of this recurring command the Lord gave His people an intriguing reason for why He required this, "Remember that you were slaves in Egypt. That is why I command you to do this" (Deut. 24:22, NIV). Didn't God want them to leave their excess food for the poor and outsider because these people were hungry, because they needed community, because they couldn't provide for themselves, because He loved them? Wasn't that why? Oh I'm sure those were all reasons, but I believe God first had to deal with that sneaky mind-set, the one that tries to trick us into thinking that when we step over a stalk of wheat to leave it for the poor we're doing something really noble, plain over-the-top gracious. That we're going above and beyond by giving away what is rightfully "ours." The Lord was staving off this kind of thinking by saying, "Hold your fancy horses. Remember you used to be slaves too! Don't forget to tap into what that felt like." The Israelites were no strangers to poverty, oppression, or powerlessness as ones who had once been enslaved in Egypt. It was only because of God's deliverance they were now free, only because of His goodness they were blessed with flourishing fields and bursting branches. By remembering their once low estate, they were poised to welcome the foreigner, fatherless, and widow, not out of self-righteousness, guilt, or duty, but out of the love God had shown them. Last night I served dinner to an Iraqi couple and their 2-year-old daughter, a family some of my friends and I have gotten to know. I'd hoped that chicken, broccoli, and couscous were safe selections to serve these well-dressed Middle Easterners, though I sensed I may have been pushing it with the hot apple cider. I was going for the American autumn experience, and judging by their first and only sip, this went over moderately. As we settled around the table I asked them why they'd left Baghdad to come to America. The husband replied, "Because there are less car bombings here," and then he broke out into hysterical laughter. (Safwat's a sanguine.) His wife was less buoyant, confiding that the war had been devastating and that they'd fled here as refugees hoping to find jobs but so far without any success. My eyes welled up as she spoke because her suffering was not that of a nameless Iraqi, but it belonged to her, a real-life woman with a name, Rida. As the adults carried on, Rubaa fingered the icing on her cupcake and tapped her shoes on the hardwood floors, just like any other baby girl in a bright red dress who wanted the room to be enchanted with her — some things are the same everywhere. When it was time for them to leave, Safwat shook my hand, Rubaa blew me a kiss at her mother's urging, and Rida kissed my right cheek, left cheek, and then back to my right cheek again (it's that third one I always forget). As we said our good-byes I realized what a privilege it was to know their names, because knowing their names meant I was getting to know their stories. And knowing their stories reminded me in deeply spiritual and emotional places that I, too, was once a foreigner outside of God's kingdom, but because of Christ, I am now a daughter. Kelly Minter