Saturday in the Octave of Easter

Lecti

onary: 266

Peter and John, however, said to them in reply,
“Whether it is right in the sight of God
for us to obey you rather than God, you be the judges.
It is impossible for us not to speak about what we have seen and heard.”

Our religion, if not our faith, has undergone profound changes since the end of World War II and the Second Vatican Council. One of those changes has been a growing willingness to rely upon our own experience, as opposed to theoretical knowledge.

My earliest religious training relied heavily upon the Baltimore Catechism, which seemed to have all of the questions and all of the answers. Its authority was overwhelming. The bright eyes who could memorize its formulas were prepared for every eventuality. (I was never that good.)

Then came The Changes and a new set of questions: What do you think? How do you feel about that? and What do you want?

Simple questions no longer render simple answers. In the play Waiting for Godot, when Didi speaks of the Savior, Gogo asks, “Saved from what?” Didi’s answer is lame, "Hell" The word means nothing to either of them. The authorized answer no long addresses the question.

Peter and John and their Jewish opponents faced a similar crisis. Jesus’ resurrection undermined the authorities; their certainties were uncertain; their standards satisfied no one. The disciples had to fall back on their experience, on what they had seen and heard.

My niece plays soccer.

Our faith today faces not a similar but the very same challenge. The Christian today must speak of her own experience, “What she has seen and heard.” She must tell the gospel according to herself, with her “passion narrative” of disappointment, betrayal and suffering. She must be ready to speak of her own resurrection, when the Lord called her by name back to life, as Jesus called Lazarus. Reciting old rules and formulas will not persuade even her children and grandchildren.

She will be tempted, as the disciples were tempted, to edit certain unsavory chapters of her past. My children, she’ll think, cannot bear the truth about me. They should not hear what really happened. Saint Peter must have been tempted to whitewash the story of his waiting in the high priest’s courtyard, and what happened by the charcoal fire. The other disciples, perhaps, preferred to forget how they scattered when Jesus was arrested.

Because they told the truth the gospel flourishes to this day. The Gospel of Jesus Christ will reach the 22^nd century because we speak the truth about ourselves today, and about our Good God.  

"It is impossible for us not to speak about what we have seen and heard.”