Entonces Jesús llamó a los Doce y los envió de dos en dos dándoles poder sobre los espíritus impuros. Les dijo que no llevaran para el camino más que un bastón; ni pan, ni alforja, ni dinero; que fueran calzados con sandalias, y que no tuvieran dos túnicas (Marcos 6:7-8).
Hoy por hoy, la estrategia evangelizadora para la multitud ha cambiado. Se modernizó. No se hace a pie, sino en auto, o por avión. Ya no es presencial, sino virtual. Tiene su protocolo, su tecnología y supervisión cualificada. No se improvisa; se planifica. Pero algo se ha perdido.
Es difícil planificar el vaivén del Espíritu Santo. Es arrogante programar la voluntad de Dios. Los mega-eventos producidos son la moda de hoy. No es malo ser proactivo. Con todo, se extraña la simpleza de la caminata. Se extraña el olor a tomate y albahaca en el campo, la frescura de aguas naturales sobre pies cansados y la alegría de quienes reciben una visita inesperada.
Es importante volver a las raíces, de vez en cuando. Si no, poco a poco, el discípulo acaba lejos del Reino, predicando a sí mismo en vez de Cristo Resucitado. Acaba imponiendo su propia versión, en vez de dejar fluir la abundante gracia salvadora del que le envió.
La idolatría consiste en eso. Los más devotos configuran un dios a su propia imagen, a veces, sin darse cuenta. Reinventan el mensaje según su propia conveniencia e inclinación.
Kant dijo que es imposible percibir una novedad sin reestructurarla. Se recibe el mensaje catalogándolo de acuerdo a preconceptos culturales. Se percibe la palabra según estructuras lingüísticas previamente adquiridas. Se incorpora la inspiración distorsionándola para hacerla calzar con la historia personal. Su visión es pesimista, pero de todos modos, sirve de advertencia para quienes han aceptado el desafío de dejarse enviar de dos en dos para predicar el Reino en pobreza. La tentación de reestructurar el Reino a su gusto, en vez de dejarse reestructurar por el Reino, es prácticamente inevitable. ¿Cómo salvarse de esa?
La vulnerabilidad en la caminata es el mejor escudo del apóstol. No tiene adónde ir; no tiene nada que perder. De día, se deja guiar por una nube y, de noche, por una columna de fuego.
El discípulo de la evangelización modernizada y protocolar suele oír (y por ende, transmitir) un evangelio que reafirma las cosas como son. Sin conversiones. Desde los castillos teóricos, el mensaje se ve transformado en sistema filosófico. Desde los palacios del poder, se proclama una ley autoritaria, metafísica e inmutable.
En el camino peatonal del discípulo misionero, se descubre otra cosa. El evangelio es la sanación de enfermedades. Es la liberación de los demonios. Es la humilde confianza en una providencia solidaria que realmente se encarga del refugio nocturno y el pan cotidiano. Como Cristo, el apóstol no tiene donde reclinar la cabeza, pero el Padre cuida a los lirios del campo.
Hay buenas intenciones por doquier. Sin embargo, el kerigma de los mega-eventos, transmitido por satélite y amplificado hasta asegurar sordera universal, ha quedado pesado de agregados. Hay un tiempo para todo, y ahora es el momento para volver a la raíz y redescubrir la simple alegría originaria, caminando al ritmo de la gente sencilla.
El profeta no va a los palacios, sino a los pueblos remotos. El apóstol auténtico escoge el anonimato y no la fama. Con su testimonio de sencillez, conduce la mirada del pueblo al rostro benevolente, al que envió misioneros de dos en dos, sin pan, ni dinero, ni alforja. La verdadera reevangelización se hace de abajo hacia arriba.
Encomendemos a los misioneros cotidianos que llevan el tesoro del Reino por Galilea a pie, para que sean capaces de transformar, paso a paso, las categorías kantianas de los que dirigen el mundo. Estamos a tiempo para recuperar el punto de vista de la compasión divina, aquella que es anunciada silenciosamente en la sencilla caminata de tibias madrugadas misioneras.
Walking mission
Jesus summoned the Twelve and began to send them out two by two and gave them authority over unclean spirits. He instructed them to take nothing for the journey but a walking stick--no food, no sack, no money in their belts. They were, however, to wear sandals but not a second tunic (Mark 6:7-8).
The road of apostles and prophets is something so simple that it’s hard to believe. I remember mission experiences not so long ago, the kind where walks are long and mornings, quiet. We staved off hunger any way we could and discovered the benevolent will of God in every step. The process itself testifies to the message. The Good News is that pilgrimage. In the Kingdom of God, one can walk in poverty with confidence.
Unfortunately, for many disciples, that walk, if they ever made it at all, quickly became history. It was no more than a learning experience organized by pastoral agents for the benefit of the participants themselves. It was never really meant to spread the Gospel among the forgotten people on the outer edge of humankind. It was intended to inspire those who would someday be powerful. Many have simply forgotten, or worse, they only remember the camaraderie shared among the missionaries themselves.
Nowadays, the evangelizing strategy for the multitude has changed. It has become modern. It’s not done on foot. You have to drive. Or better, fly. There is no real presence; it’s all done online. There is protocol, technology and qualified supervision. Nothing is improvised; all is planned. But something essential has been lost.
It isn’t easy to plan the movements of the Holy Spirit. And, it’s downright arrogant to program the will of God. Mega-productions are how it’s done nowadays, and planning is not a bad thing. And yet, we miss the simplicity of the walk. We miss the smell of fresh cut hay in the country, the cool stream water on tired feet and the joy of those who open the door to an unexpected visitor.
It is important to return to the source, once in a while. If not, little by little, disciples wind up far from the Kingdom, preaching about themselves instead of the Risen Lord. They impose their version, instead of letting the abundant grace of salvation flow through them.
That’s what idolatry is. The devout reconfigure a god in their own image, without even realizing it. They redo the message according to their own inclinations and misunderstandings.
Kant said that it is impossible to perceive something new without restructuring it. The message is received and automatically catalogued according to personal preconceptions. The word is perceived according to previously acquired linguistic structures. Inspiration is immediately distorted so that it fits in with common cultural history. His vision is pessimistic, but nevertheless, a valid warning for those who have accepted the challenge of being sent to preach the Kingdom in poverty. The temptation to restructure the Kingdom, instead of letting oneself be restructured by the Kingdom, is practically inevitable. So, is salvation even possible?
Vulnerability out on the road is the apostle’s very best shield. He has nowhere to go, and nothing to lose. So, by day, he follows a cloud, and by night, a column of fire. He becomes the real deal.
Disciples of the modernized procedural evangelization tend to hear (and therefore, proclaim) a gospel that reaffirms the way things are. Conversion is not on the agenda. In the theoretical castles, the message has become a philosophical system. In the palaces of power, an authoritarian, metaphysical and immutable law is proclaimed.
On the footpaths of missionary disciples, a different story is revealed. The Gospel is the healing of the sick. It is liberation from demons. It is the humble trust in the providential solidarity that really is our night’s refuge and our daily bread. Like Christ, walkers have no place to rest their heads, and yet, they know the heavenly Father watches over even the lilies of the field.
Of course, the best of intentions are everywhere. Even so, the querigma of the mega-events, broadcast by satellite and amplified to the point that universal deafness is the only real certainty, has grown heavy with add-ons. The time has come to return to the source, to rediscover the simple joy of the walking mission, where the common people are.
Prophets don’t go to palaces. They go to remote villages. Authentic apostles choose anonymity, not fame. Through testimony of simplicity, they move the human gaze in the direction of the benevolent face, the same that sent missionaries two by two, without bread, money or backpack. Our re-evangelization will begin from down below.
Let us pray for the everyday missionaries who carry the treasure of the Kingdom through Galileeon foot, so that they might, with every step, transform the Kantian categories of those who run the world. There is still time to recover the viewpoint of divine compassion, the same one that is quietly announced in the simple walk of cool missionary mornings.
Nathan Stone, S.J.
