Carol Bechtel, the execu
tive director of the American Waldensian Society, spoke at a February 17, 2025, celebration in Valdese, North Carolina about why history is important to Waldensians. Her remarks were based in large part on the fourth and final volume of a new history of the Waldensians by Paolo Naso. The fourth volume of Paolo’s wonderful and ambitious history covers the period from the second half of the 19th century to the late 20th century.
What a pleasure it is to join you for this February 17th celebration! This is only my second time at such an event. The first time was 5 years ago in Torre Pellice, Italy. My husband and I were privileged to join the procession up Via Beckwith on that chilly February night. I remember we had hoped to practice our Italian with folks along the way, but it turned out, they all wanted to practice their English with us! It was fun in any case, and we did manage to catch something of the spirit of what this celebration commemorates. Unfortunately, it had been a very dry year, so they were not able to light the bonfire at the end of the evening.
And here I am for my second Feb. 17th celebration, only to have the bonfire cancelled again – this time because of rain! I feel a bit like Goldilocks – first it’s too dry, then it’s too wet. But next time, I’m sure it will be “just right!”
When I received the invitation to speak at this event, I wondered what I – an “affinity Waldensian” – could say to you that you wouldn’t already know. But then it occurred to me that maybe the most genuine thing I could do would be to give a few impressions based on my experience of both the Waldensian story and the real live Waldensians I have encountered in my 17-year sojourn with the American Waldensian Society.
When pressed for a title, I had the idea that I could include some highlights from the new 4-volume history of the Waldensians – a wonderful and ambitious project that has just come out in Italian. But then I realized that a short speech was probably not long enough to cover 9 centuries and thousands of pages, so I’ve decided to limit myself to some of the insights I have gleaned from the introduction to the 4th volume, which covers the period from the second half of the 19th century to the late 20th century. (So, roughly from the time of the Edict of Emancipation in 1848 – granting Waldensians civil rights for the first time in Italian history – to the present.)
Now, if you’re saying to yourself, that’s still a century-and-a-half’s worth of material, and we just ate a lovely dinner – fear not. I promise I will only hit the highlights!
The one other thing I’ll say before I begin is that this 4th volume is the one that is edited by Paolo Naso—a friend to many in this room, I suspect. Paolo was kind enough to send me the introduction, which I was able to translate with the help of my computer (my Italian still isn’t that good). So, I want to give full credit to Paolo for everything that you like in this speech, and I will take the blame for whatever it is you don’t.
I’ve divided my remarks into 3 sections. They all have to do with relationships. The first section has to do with the relationship between history and identity, which is where we will begin:
The Relationship Between History and Identity
From the moment I met my first real, live Waldensian – I think it was when I attended the Synod in Torre Pellice in 2009 – I realized that there was a living link between past and present for everyone who identifies somehow as a Waldensian. If I had assumed that the history of the Waldensian movement could be summarized in a single paragraph in a church history textbook, I was wrong. These were people whose present had been shaped by a very particular past. Centuries of individual and collective experience were shaping the discussions and decisions being made at that Synod. I’ll say more about that later, but it made such an impression on me at the time that I actually asked someone to take a picture of me with Paolo Naso so that I could send it to the church history professor at the seminary where I teach. I told my colleague, “Next time you cover the Waldensians, I want you to show the students this picture and tell them, ‘Look! Waldensians are more than a footnote in church history! Here’s Professor Bechtel with a real, live Waldensian!’”
The more I learned about the history of the Waldensians – a history that spanned more than 9 centuries – the more I realized that their experiences of marginalization and persecution had shaped them into a church – a community – with a gift for compassion and hospitality toward others who suffered in similar ways. I learned that Waldensians were people who valued education – in part because of their historic commitment to reading the Bible. And believe me, as a Bible professor, it’s hard not to be impressed by people who literally were dying to read the Bible!
History, it seems to me, is very close to the surface for most Waldensians.
It brought to mind passages like Deuteronomy 6 – which is still read every time a Jewish family celebrates the Passover. Listen to this passage from Deuteronomy 6:20-24 NRSV, and tell me what you notice about it:
When your children ask you in time to come, “What is the meaning of the decrees and the statutes and the ordinances that the Lord our God has commanded you?” then you shall say to your children, “We were Pharaoh’s slaves in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. The Lord displayed before our eyes great and awesome signs and wonders against Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his household. He brought us out from there in order to bring us in, to give us the land that he promised on oath to our ancestors. Then the Lord commanded us to observe all these statutes, to fear the Lord our God, for our lasting good, so as to keep us alive, as is now the case.
Did you notice how they said “WE were Pharaoh’s slaves in Egypt…” Not THEY – our ancestors – but WE. It’s not just THEM that the Lord brought of Egypt with a mighty hand, but US too. In other words, even though a couple of generations have already passed, the deliverance at the Red Sea is remembered as having happened to US too. And the story is told in just this way so that it is a living memory for each new generation.
Just so, it seems to me, is the relationship between Waldensians and their own story of deliverance. For all Waldensians – whether they are “heritage” or “affinity” Waldensians—this is not a story about something that happened to someone else. It is OUR story. History is a living link to OUR identity. There is a sense in which history is never fully in the past—but always in the present, whether we are conscious of it or not! Better, of course, to be conscious of it, and to cultivate the knowledge that builds and strengthens our sense of identity.
I suspect I’m preaching to the choir here, given that this event is being sponsored by the Waldensian Heritage Museum! But I don’t think we can underestimate the importance of passing these precious stories on to our children. Knowledge of our history is crucial to our identity.
The Relationship Between History and Memory
Memory, as you probably know, is different from history.
History, after all, is what happened. Memory is the way we remember what happened. Do you see the difference? Memory is what we retain long after the episodes of history are left behind.
Think of a particular event in your past. Maybe it’s something that happened to your family. A house fire, for instance. Or a car accident. Or some experience you had in high school. It can be a bad experience or a good experience, but your own impressions of it may be quite different from other people’s—even if they were there experiencing it with you!
I can tell you’re all thinking of your own examples. That’s what makes family and class reunions so “interesting,” isn’t it?
Whether our impressions of the “event” are accurate or not, we carry the memories that are shaped by these impressions around with us for years. They stay with us long after the events that gave rise to them have faded over the horizon of history. If they are good, healthy memories, they can give us strength of character. If they are bad, unhealthy memories, we drag them around like unwanted baggage, and they can do serious damage to our life and relationships.
Why am I talking about this? It’s because I’m trying to encourage us to do the hard work of examining our memories.
In Paolo Naso’s introduction to Volume 4, he presses us to take a hard look at the way we remember certain parts of our history. Like a good therapist, he encourages us to examine our memories and ask ourselves some hard questions. How does what really happened (which we know from historical research) compare to the selective things we remember about those events? Are the stories we are telling ourselves—and others—the full stories? Or are they only the parts we want to remember?
Here is a case in point. In a section called “The ‘adaptation’ to fascism,” Paolo presses us to look beyond the well-known—and rightly celebrated—stories of Waldensian resistance to Fascism during WWII. These stories of courage and sacrifice are important, he stresses, and they are memories of which we can rightly be proud. But there are other stories as well, and we need to acknowledge them if we are to learn from our past. Here’s a quote. He writes:
“The documents we have at our disposal highlight a feeble and surprisingly reductive reaction even to the racial laws of 1938… If various studies clearly attest to the anti-fascist positions of some pastors, intellectuals and many young Waldensians, the silent immobility of the church in its institutional form is equally evident.”
It’s a mix, in other words.
It would be easier, of course, not to acknowledge that mix. Part of us probably wants to say, “Oh, that was a long time ago. Let’s just leave the past in the past.”
I get that. Yet, isn’t that part of the point? The past doesn’t stay the past. And if our memories are to be more than just idealistic nostalgia, we owe it to ourselves—and to our children—to do the hard work of making our memories more accurate. We need to face the bad as well as the good, and use both to prepare us for the present.
Anybody who lived through World War II would tell you that it was a complicated time. The choice was not always between “good and bad,” but between “bad and worse.” But I wonder if we are entering into a time that is a lot like that. Isn’t it possible that this kind of work—this work of examining our memories to make sure that they are more than just nostalgia for the good old days—isn’t it possible that this is the very work that will make us better able—with God’s help—to meet the challenges of the present moment?
The Relationship Between History and Vocation
Presbyterian pastor and author, Frederick Buechner is famous for pointing out that “Vocation is the place where our deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.” Isn’t that a beautiful way of putting it?
He’s talking, of course, about more than just what we do for a living. That’s our occupation. But our vocation—that’s something much more profound. And every Christian has one. Call it a “calling” if that helps. But it’s that place where your deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.
All of us can—and should—ask what this is for us as individuals. But I wonder what it is for Waldensians. What is the “deep gladness” of Waldensians, and where might it meet the world’s deepest need?
The Waldensians, from their very start, have been a persecuted church, “reformed” before the Reformation, based in a dominantly Roman Catholic country which did not accept their beliefs for centuries. (That’s putting it mildly!) Waldensians understand how it feels to be an outsider. As an immigrant church in both North and South America, they remain connected to their country of origin, Italy—even in settings like this one in North America where they have been largely assimilated into other churches and communities in other ways.
But what if it is this very history that has formed a “deep gladness” for them?
Whenever anyone asks me, “What’s a Waldensian?” one of the first things I tell them is about the work our Waldensian friends in Italy are doing with immigrants and refugees. If you don’t know about that work, look them up on the American Waldensian Society website or google Mediterranean Hope. I promise, what you find will inspire you.
The more I learn about that work, the more I am convinced that it doesn’t come out of nowhere. I think it’s a calling—a vocation—that is directly related to that history of persecution and marginalization. Waldensians remember what it was like to be a stranger—so they go out of their way to welcome strangers. Yes, it’s also in obedience to the One who said, “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Matthew 25:35). But the fact that Waldensians know what it is to be a stranger is precisely what makes it easier to see the face of Jesus Christ in those strangers risking their lives to cross the Mediterranean.
Paolo Naso talks about how “historical conscience” has acted as a “compass” for Waldensians all over the world. It’s part of what defines their sense of vocation and gives such power to their testimony. In Buechner’s words, it’s where their deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.
When we remember and celebrate the Edict of Emancipation—where Italian Waldensians were first given civil rights, it makes sense for us to ask ourselves how we can “pay it forward” to others.
Here’s how Paolo puts it:
“If at the beginning of the path we have outlined [how] the Waldensians had to resort to the law as a defensive tool for their identity, over time they have built a commitment to defend the rights of all.”
I will leave it to each of you as individuals—and to all of us as a community—to work out with fear and trembling what that means. But it is a calling—a vocation—if you will. And I think that if we can figure out the way to embrace that calling, then we will ourselves be what the Waldensian candle purports to be—namely—a light in the darkness.