Last week we looked at the main theological point from the third section of Camino: the paternal guidance of Joseph and the maternal care of Mary prepare the Christian to participate in Jesus’ own filial consciousness, through a specific divine intervention analogous to the one that produced Jesus’ own physical conception in the womb of Mary of Nazareth. Today we will look at some characteristics of the impact of such a divinized individual on the social fabric that surrounds him. There are points treating this dimension scattered throughout the whole section, but the densest concentration can be found in chapters 38-40.
The main aspects I would like to comment on are summarized in point 833, from chapter 40. It is one of the earliest points in order of composition, with the bulk of the text appearing in a diary entry from June 1930 – just four months after Escrivá had come to the definitive conclusion that God was calling him to found a new institution. The sharp contrast against competing paths for world change brings out some essential elements of Escrivá’s vision that are already well-defined at this early stage:
Leaders! Strengthen your will, so God might make you a leader. Don’t you see how those damned secret societies operate? They never win the masses. In their dens, they create a few demon-men who stir and rile up the crowds, driving them mad, leading them off the cliff into all sorts of chaos... and to hell. They carry a cursed seed.
If you wish..., you shall bear the Word of God, blessed a thousand times, which cannot fail. If you're generous..., if you reciprocate, with your personal sanctification, you shall obtain that of the rest: the reign of Christ: omnes cum Petro ad Jesum per Mariam.1
This is one of the points alluded to in the first essay, where Escrivá explicitly puts his proposal side-by-side with various contemporary forms of revolutionary activity (Marxist, Masonic, Anarchist, etc.). Although the description of these activities is cast in virulently negative terms, the comparison itself implies that Escrivá’s project is in some sense comparable. It shows that he is equally serious about changing the world – and not only on an eschatological timescale, but here and now, in history.
The comparison is employed here in order to illustrate a basic point of social psychology that underlies the strategy of almas de criterio. Contrary to the democratic mythos, people do not normally come to carefully reasoned independent conclusions about how to act in a given situation, but usually follow the tone set by their immediate social context. (This is not a defect, but flows from the essentially social nature of human rationality itself.) To change behavior on a mass scale, therefore, it is not necessary to convince every person separately; it is sufficient to have a few people backed up by a contrary social context, who have the strength of will to set a new tone. In the case of revolutionary change, as we saw in the first essay, the new tone is that of violent hatred towards the oppressors, which can always be achieved with relative ease based on the latent tensions among groups in any real society. Although they may be offended by his deliberately derogatory terminology, a truly committed revolutionary would substantially agree with Escrivá’s description. The whole point is to “stir and rile up the crowds,” in order to “drive them mad” with an overwhelming consciousness of the formerly latent tension. This is the only way to generate the energy for substantial world change using human ingenuity alone.
Escrivá’s alma de criterio takes advantage of this same social psychology: the reader is invited to become a leader, a caudillo, who draws the crowd after him like the revolutionary does. The difference is that his efficacy derives from the divine power of the Word of God, which is the original source and foundation of the whole cosmic order – including the social order. This means that he does not need to apply any kind of psychological violence; rather, his work principally consists in opening people’s minds to the deepest truth of the reality that surrounds them. This is the Kingdom of Christ – the Word of God incarnate – who rules through the gentle force of truth itself. The final Latin phrase brings in the content of the previous section of the book: the social “ground” of the Church, exemplified and typified by Mary, actualized in the fabric of relations rooted in the successor of Peter, as the supernatural context that provides the fulcrum for change.
A few points later (837), Escrivá comments specifically on the quiet naturalness of this strategy, contrasting it this time with the efforts of fellow Christians who take a more “violent” approach:
Gallop, gallop!... Act, act!... The fever, the madness for motion... Marvelous material structures...
Spiritually: wooden planks, tarps, repainted cardboard... gallop!, act! —And many people rushing: coming and going.
They toil for the sake of the present moment: they're always “in the present.” —You... must see things with the eyes of eternity, “holding in the present” the end and the past...
Stillness. —Peace. —Intense life within you. Without galloping, without that fixation with changing places… from the position life has assigned you, like a mighty machine of spiritual electricity, how many you shall enlighten and empower!..., without losing your vigor and your light.2
Pope Francis has made this same idea one of the pillars of his own vision for the Church, making it one of the concluding catch-phrases in his first major magisterial publication, Evangelii Gaudium: time is greater than space (n. 222-225). In scientific terms, we can unpack this contrast in terms of a “Newtonian” vs. “Darwinian” understanding of society. In the Newtonian scheme, time is secondary – it is no more than the unfolding of necessary consequences of the present arrangement of parts. Effectiveness of social action can therefore only mean securing the correct arrangement of parts here and now (“dominating spaces” in the language of Evangelii Gaudium). The “Darwinian” understanding (more accurately termed “Lamarckian,” but that name has too much unfortunate baggage unfairly attached) grasps the role of history, the continuity of past, present and future. It looks to harness the dynamics by which society already operates, reinforcing its potential for positive evolution, rather than imposing a pre-fabricated solution. Escrivá proposes to accomplish this by forming almas de criterio within each of the collective activities that make the world, from cobalt mining to scriptwriting. Their direct connection to the divine source of life injects new vitality into each of these sectors, opening up vast horizons for perfecting the way in which it already serves the common good. The end result is not predictable by anyone, but that is part of what makes this kind of change truly human, compatible with the reality of personal freedom.
Escrivá finds confirmation of this idea in the behavior of Jesus himself, as recorded in the Gospels:
“Non manifeste, sed quasi in occulto” (Jn 7:10) – not publicly, but secretly: so goes Jesus to the feast of Tabernacles.
So he will go, on the road to Emmaus, with Cleophas and his companion (Lk 24:15-16). – So he appears, risen, to Mary Magdalene (Jn 20:14).
And so – “non tamen cognoverunt discipuli quia Jesus est” – the disciples did not know that it was He – so he assisted at the miraculous catch related by Saint John (Jn 21:4).
And more hidden still, out of Love for man, in the Host.3
In all of these New Testament passages, Escrivá notes how Jesus acts from within the natural dynamics of human life, so much so that he initially passes unnoticed. The first passage directly portrays this as a deliberate element in Jesus’ way of acting. His relatives in Nazareth have heard about his miracles, and are puzzled by why their cousin does not act more aggressively in pursuit of his mission. They take him aside and encourage him to put on a big show at the feast in Jerusalem, in the presence of fellow Jews from all over Israel and throughout the diaspora who will be going there on pilgrimage. But Jesus flatly refuses. He does go to the feast, but as just one more pilgrim, continuing to attract and form disciples from within the existing framework of customs and institutions.
Escrivá finds the culmination of this way of acting in the Eucharist, where Jesus uses the ordinary elements of human sustenance – bread and wine – as the vehicle for the continuing presence of his saving sacrifice. The specific reference is to Jesus’ presence under the form of bread, the “host,” which can be reserved in the Tabernacle after the celebration is over. There, hidden in a small box, he does not call any attention to himself. But he accomplishes profound effects in the souls that come to pray to him there. Escrivá sees this a model for the mode of action of the almas de criterio, whose radical love is able to change the whole way of thinking and acting of those who come into contact with it, but without any artificial outward show.
Camino (part 7)
The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, that a man has taken and sowed in his ground; of all seeds, none is so little, but when it grows up it is greater than any garden herb; it grows into a tree, so that all the birds come and settle in its branches. (Mt 13:31-32)
833: ¡Caudillos!... Viriliza tu voluntad para que Dios te haga caudillo. ¿No ves cómo proceden las malditas sociedades secretas? Nunca han ganado a las masas. —En sus antros forman unos cuantos hombres-demonios que se agitan y revuelven a las muchedumbres, alocándolas, para hacerlas ir tras ellos, al precipicio de todos los desórdenes... y al infierno. —Ellos llevan una simiente maldecida.
Si tú quieres..., llevarás la Palabra de Dios, bendita mil y mil veces, que no puede faltar. Si eres generoso..., si correspondes, con tu santificación personal, obtendrás la de los demás: el reinado de Cristo: que "omnes cum Petro ad Jesum per Mariam".
837: ¡Galopar, galopar!... ¡Hacer, hacer!... Fiebre, locura de moverse... Maravillosos edificios materiales...
Espiritualmente: tablas de cajón, percalinas, cartones repintados... ¡galopar!, ¡hacer! —Y mucha gente corriendo: ir y venir.
Es que trabajan con vistas al momento de ahora: “están” siempre “en presente”. —Tú... has de ver las cosas con ojos de eternidad, “teniendo en presente” el final y el pasado...
Quietud. —Paz. —Vida intensa dentro de ti. Sin galopar, sin la locura de cambiar de sitio, desde el lugar que en la vida te corresponde, como una poderosa máquina de electricidad espiritual, ¡a cuántos darás luz y energía!..., sin perder tu vigor y tu luz.
843: "Non manifeste, sed quasi in occulto" —no con publicidad, sino ocultamente: así va Jesús a la fiesta de los Tabernáculos.
Así irá, camino de Emaús, con Cleofás y su compañero. —Así le ve, resucitado, María Magdala.
Y así —"non tamen cognoverunt discipuli quia Jesus est" —los discípulos no conocieron que era El —así acudió a la pesca milagrosa que nos cuenta San Juan.
Y más oculto aún, por Amor a los hombres, está en la Hostia.