THE CASE OF DIEGO DE UCEDA

Photograph by Isabel Pérez Lago

John E. Longhurst’s book Luther and the Spanish Inquisition: The Case of Diego de Uceda, 1528-1529 reminds us of Jorge Luis Borges’s short story The Garden of Forking Paths in its treatment of texts used to capture the reader’s attention to the displayed conflict. Considered as an example of anti-narrative, Borges’s story is told through a sequence of fragments from newspapers, letters and other documents that, in reality, do not exist. The Argentinean writer uses real dates, names and events within his work so as to make his reader wonder about the realistic character of the story. At one point, the reader can’t even state clearly whether he is reading a fictional story with verifiable elements included or a truthful article containing an intense dose of creative images. Likewise, Longhurst’s work proposes an intriguing way to tell us about the case of Diego de Uceda during the Spanish Inquisition, using a postmodern literary presentation of the facts that are divided into setting, denunciation, double jeopardy, frustration, the burden of proof, crisis, purification, and an epilogue.

In the first chapter, the reader is situated within the time and space of the conflict narrated: the trials set up by the Inquisition tribunals against those who ideologically opposed some Catholic doctrines, inspired by Martin Luther in the 1500s. One of these figures was Diego de Uceda, “an enthusiastic devotee of the teachings of Eramus of Rotterdam,” which tried to find a middle ground between Catholicism and Lutheranism (8). Here are mentioned many of the people imprisoned by the Catholic Church due to their heretic practices, that is for believing in Lutheranism, Illuminism, or Erasmism. The idea of confessing to God alone -not to the priests- plus the need to avoid adoring dead images, which were considered a resemblance of the idols of the pagans, became two of the main reformist thoughts defended by Luther, and, of course, they were radically condemned by the Inquisition.

The subsequent chapters refer to the recollection of evidences that incriminated Diego de Uceda, bringing him to the Inquisition chambers (18). Although he clarified that his only wish consisted of living and dying in the Catholic faith, Diego was submitted to an extensive trial that ended up in torture. Diego had said that the most important thing in confession was for the sinner to repent inwardly and to promise to mend his ways in the future (28). Later, he added that ignorance combined with an unwillingness to learn is the basis of many evils, including the misunderstanding of words (28). In a letter written after having spent days of solitary meditation in his cell, Diego de Uceda confessed that he also denied a miracle of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and he begged for mercy to the Catholic Church (35). As Longhurst affirms, Diego’s life, fortune and honor were at stake while he tried to convince the Inquisitors of his piety and orthodoxy (50). Diego stated that priests were instituted as arbiters between God and men, making oral confession the only vehicle to the absolution of sins (54). Put to be tortured, Diego had to tell the Inquisitors what they all wanted to hear: words (which he might not even have believed) in support of the Lutheran disregard of confession and the adoration of images as well as the idea that contrition alone was enough for the believers to be saved (62-63).

THE IMPACT OF PRINTING

The object of study of the volume The Coming of the Book: the Impact of Printing by Lucien Febvre and Henri-Jean Martin consists of analyzing the changes occurred in the process of thinking and the working conditions of religious and secular scholars with the emergence of printed books. The authors emphasize causes and effects as well as the needs that were satisfied by the printed book during 300 years, from the Renaissance to the early stages of the Romantic period.

According to Febvre and Martin, the book was conceived after the invention of firearms and became one of the most important agents that promoted the ideas of representative thinkers. As the authors point out, an early need for printed materials emerged out of the universities from the 12^th and 13^th centuries as professors required texts for their courses, works of reference and commentaries. The printing system was introduced under the auspices of the university in Paris, and it was linked to the progress of paper –material that replaced parchment and was used for official purposes in France by the end of the 13^th Century. Three essential characteristics of the printing technique are mentioned: “moveable type cast in metal; a fatty based ink; and the press” (50). Willem J. Blaeu introduced many alterations to the press in Holland, making it stronger in its construction.

In the early years, four main styles of script were employed. For instance, the black letter was used in scholastic texts; the larger size gothic letter appeared in ecclesiastic books; the “bastard” gothic could be found in vernacular luxury manuscripts and in Latin texts; and finally the roman letter which became the normal script for printed books was spread out in Europe within a century after printing (79-83).

Among other issues developed by Febvre and Martin are the visual appearance of the book, the working conditions of journeymen and masters, and several uses of the printed volume. With regards to the visual look of the book, it is mentioned the importance of the title page –the purpose of which consisted of indicating the civil status of a book-, the significance of illustration, and the use of binding as a means of preservation. Other chapters explore the moral and functioning circumstances in which journeymen (printers) and masters (booksellers and publishers) developed their careers. Journeymen printers, for instance, distinguished themselves as a peculiar group, spending long hours in the shop and sharing meals and difficulties. Many journeymen’s agitations took place in the 16^th, 17^th and 18^th centuries in an attempt to secure working rights and increases in labor wages (135). On the other hand, booksellers may have combined both literary and profit interests as in the case of the so-called “philosopher-bookseller” of the Enlightenment. Even if interested in promoting morality, reason and knowledge, booksellers often did publish scandalous books that would sell better.  

In the last chapters, Febvre and Martin present other attention-grabbing points. Here there is an emphasis on the importance of the printed literature in promoting history, knowledge of Latin and other languages, spirituality, religious propaganda, moralizing narratives, and standardization of grammar and vocabulary. During the period of the Enlightenment, there was an increase in the titles published as well as an improvement in the technical aspects of the production and the appearance of publications. There emerged the importance of the author’s rights and the legal recognition of copyright. The authors give us an overview of specific issues related to the development of the book-business in Italy, Germany, England, France, Holland, and the Americas, among other countries, and they also dedicate a few pages to the emergence of book fairs like the Frankfurt fair where catalogues were first introduced. Lastly, Febvre and Martin refer to the question of censorship leading to the existence of an underground book trade.

LOS CROMBERGER: LA HISTORIA DE UNA IMPRENTA

“Este libro es el primer estudio extenso de una imprenta importante en la España del XVI,” reads the first sentence of the volume Los Cromberger: la historia de una imprenta del siglo XVI en Sevilla y Méjico by Clive Griffin. Its main focus consists of contextualizing the impact of the Cromberger’s workshop in the circuit of the printing press in Sevilla, the most populated center of Castilla, and the greatest Spanish place where spiritual reformation occurred. The editorial production of the Cromberger family during the first half of the XVI century has been considered very influential as it contained renowned literary texts of the so-called Siglo de Oro.

The book is structured as follows: a three-page prologue with allusions to the importance of archival materials; five chapters form the first part of the volume; three more chapters appear in the second half; a conclusion; and three illustrated appendices. Griffin makes a special emphasis on the importance of notary archives that served as testimony to “primitive Spanish printers.” He mentions, for instance, the Archivo de Protocolos de Sevilla, which was very useful in the study of the Cromberger family as well as in providing authentic information on many aspects of the city life linked to commerce, industry, political problems, institutions, and arts, among others (14). The Cromberger family, says the author, stopped by a notary public at least three times a week, including Sundays and Christmas day. They left a notable variety of documents, including testaments, letters, business contracts, and inventories of goods and properties. The author also found valuable information about the Cromberger family in the Archivo General de Indias and the Archivo de la Catedral, in Sevilla; the Archivo Histórico Nacional de Madrid; and the Archivo General de la Nación de la Ciudad de México.

The first part of the book presents an ample history of the Cromberger family, supported by a substantial overview of the printing press in Spain during the XV and XVI centuries. In this regard, Griffin highlights the fact that in contrary to common understanding, the introduction of the printing press in Spain did not generate a simultaneous demand for books. Spanish printers were forced to be business men to survive. Here Griffin introduces the Cromberger family’s activities as successful printers in a business world. Sevilla, affirms the author, offered the family good possibilities, for the city was a great commercial center with potential to become a printing market place. A diversity of books came out of the Cromberger’s press –“from simple certificates to complex liturgical volumes, the edition of the classics, to plain ‘pliegos sueltos’” (102). Subsequent generations would take the family business into a more consolidated monetary stage.

The second part of the volume is dedicated to the 560 editions made by the Cromberger family, books that have been spread out throughout England, Spain, Portugal, Mexico, and Cuba. According to Griffin, the Crombergers were considered the main specialists of editions in vernacular languages and helped to disseminate spiritual ideas (188). A crucial part of their spiritual production was supported by the idea of translating works largely popularized within the Christian faith such as Imitatio Christi by Tomás de Kempis, which was edited at least six times by the Cromberger family. Among the historical books published was the famous Historia destructionis Troiae de Guido delle Colonne that had been known in Europe during the Middle Ages. After Griffin’s concluding thoughts in which he reaffirms the meaning and value of the Cromberger’s printing enterprise during the XVI century, he adds appendices containing specific information about the font styles used and a chronology of all of the Cromberger family’s editions creatively illustrated.

LA ARAUCANA DE ALONSO DE ERCILLA

La Araucana de Alonso de Ercilla es un poema estructurado en quince cantos en los que se describe la vida indígena americana con una amplia dosis de datos históricos y ficcionales también. Como diría el investigador Marcos A. Morínigo en sus extensas palabras introductorias la cuestión verosímil en el texto está dada en la propia adaptación al género de la pieza, y no hay nada en ella que empalague al lector debido a su razón y lógica, aunque el contenido de la fábula que cuenta Ercilla presente un gran número de elementos imaginarios, como la propia invención de Caupolicán, “que es con toda justicia, una de sus más flagrantes invenciones” (28-29). La presente edición del libro cuenta no solamente con una sustanciosa introducción de Morínigo sino además con apéndices, bibliografías selectas sobre el autor, notas y una tabla de vocablos significativos que ayudan al entendimiento del texto literario y las circunstancias históricas en las que fue creado.

En la introducción, se hace un amplio bosquejo sobre la vida y obra del autor. Es notable, por ejemplo, la gran influencia de Virgilio y Lucano en los versos de La Araucana así como las reminiscencias de la moción de filosofía natural que incluía conocimientos de astrología y astronomía (Morínigo 8). La primera parte del libro se publica alrededor de 1568, con gran éxito. De la noche a la mañana, Ercilla se da a conocer en todo el mundo hispánico como un “caballero ilustre por el linaje, famoso soldado, de atractiva figura, célebre poeta, y brillante cortesano,” aunque de modesta fortuna (Morínigo 12). Diez años más tarde, prepara la impresión de la segunda parte de La Araucana y luego, en 1585 se dispone a dar fin a los fragmentos más personales en su poema, escritos en Chile treinta años atrás (14). Morínigo señala que en 67 octavas del texto se relatan “actos sobrehumanos” llevados a cabo por españoles y araucanos. En dichos pasajes se “prueba por primera vez el sabor de la guerra que el futuro le reservaba en tierras de Chile” (16). Los relatos poéticos, afirma Morínigo, están imbuidos de episodios en los que se prioriza la representación de los combates personales donde se describen a los personajes de Caupolicán, Tucapel, Rengo, Galvarino, Ongolmo, Orompello y Lincoya, quienes desafían todos los peligros, a la manera de los héroes homéricos (17-18).

Otros detalles del texto se incluyen en las subsecuentes páginas. Los preparativos del ataque, defensa y derrota de Caupolicán y sus guerreros se describen usando algunas características novelísticas en 104 octavas que terminan con la ejecución de trece caciques, los cuales “son amarrados a la boca de un cañón y destrozados de un tiro” (Morínigo 21). Vale destacar que Ercilla “realizó el milagro de transmutar en su fantasía la materia histórica de la que fue testigo,” como dijera Morínigo, para poder concentrarse en la creación del material poético de La Araucana que hace a los críticos e historiadores cuestionarse frecuentemente los límites entre la realidad y la ficción (26-27). Y es que La Araucana se concibió como poema heroico-histórico, pieza literaria en primer lugar, que describe las hazañas de los españoles y los indios, quienes –al decir de Morínigo- eran considerados como personajes “sobrehumanos” en tiempos de la conquista (35).  

 

ORIENTALISM BY EDWARD SAID

Though Orientalism by Edward Said has been severely criticized by some scholars, it is a very influential and enlightening book. In Orientalism, Edward Said analyzes what it means for the “colonists” and the “colonized” the act of building up cultural structures in reference to their economies, ideologies, geographies, academic understandings, values, and positions in the world. He explores the extent to which the Orient is perceived as a European invention, due to the representational character of “Orientalism.” In this regard, Said emphasizes “the Orient is an integral part of European material civilization and culture” while orientalism assumes a mode of discourse with “supporting institutions, vocabulary, scholarship, imagery and doctrines” (1-2).

Said defines a number of interdependent thoughts concerning Orientalism. One of them has to do with showing Orientalism as a Western style of belief “based upon an ontological and epistemological distinction made between the Orient and the Occident” (Said 2). As a cultural discourse, Orientalism has been a “corporate institution for dealing with the Orient” by making statements about it, describing it, and ruling over it since the late 18^th century (Said 3). Said argues that, in speaking about Orientalism, we must refer to a British and French cultural enterprise, a project of disparately imaginary dimensions that includes the whole India and the Levant, the Biblical texts and lands, the spice trade, colonial armies and other complex arrays of ideas derived from the British and French’s experiences of the Orient (4). Said questions issues such as the lack of consistency between Orientalism and its ideas about the Orient, the configurations of power, the verisimilitude in the created bodies of theory and practice, and the systems of knowledge in relation to hegemonic endeavors as well as the “detailed logic governed not by empirical reality but by a battery of desires, repressions, investments, and projections” (8).

Said uses Orientalism, mainly, as an excuse to expose other topics, including the use of knowledge to manipulate and intervene in neighboring cultures. Knowledge may be used for imperialist purposes, serving Empires to distinguish what is of economic, sociological, or historical value, and what is not worth keeping. In talking about the Western imperialist plot with regards to the “Oriental” world, Said says that “it is a distribution of geopolitical awareness into aesthetic, scholarly (…) and philological texts; it is an elaboration and a whole series of ‘interests’; it is a certain will or intention to understand, control, manipulate and incorporate what is different, alternative or novel; it is a discourse produced by various kinds of power” (12). As part of a greater entity called knowledge, Orientalism also provides the points of departure, an established path of thought, cannons of taste and value, “so as to enable what follows from them” (16-19).

In his study of the authoritarian character of knowledge, Said employs two concepts. One of them is the strategic location, which refers to “the way of describing the author’s position in a text,” and the strategic formation that involves a method for analyzing the relationship between texts and the way in which they acquire “mass, density, and referential power among themselves and thereafter in the culture at large” (20). As Said affirms, “Orientalism responds more to the culture that produced it than to its putative object,” which, ironically, has been also produced by the West (22). From this perspective, the Oriental world gains intelligibility and identity after it has been manipulated, encapsulated and represented by the dominating frameworks of the West (Said 40). That is why, when travelling in the country of his specialization, the Orientalist was more interested in proving the validity of “musty truths” by applying them to the natives (Said 52) than in really learning from the people and their culture.

 

BOOKS OF THE BRAVE BY IRVING LEONARD

This edition of Books of the Brave by Irving Leonard, with  an introduction by Rolena Adorno, presents valuable information related to the emergence of print culture in Spanish America and “establishes the circulation of books and ideas between Spain and her ultramarine possessions as a cultural-historical topic of importance” (Adorno x). In her introductory words, Rolena Adorno makes reference to some of the issues laid out by Leonard such as the circulation and censorship of popular fiction, the readers to whom the fiction was intended, the interpretation of literature by its audience, and the role that popular reading has played in history (x). According to Adorno, the idea of bringing out Books of the Brave is to transcend the old thought that the “steamroller of Inquisitorial censorship” prohibited creative developments (xxv). She adds that Irving Leonard's meditations on the relationships among life, literature, and creativity have endured precisely because of the evocative, rather than demonstrative, character of Books of the Brave.

In the body of the book, Irving makes several important points concerning the ideological features of the Conquest. “Why were the Hispanic peoples singled out to be the first instruments of history in the Europeanizing of the globe through the discovery, conquest, and colonizing of many of its unknown parts?,” the author asks. Later, he questions why Spain attained such greatness as to achieve a historic destiny unequaled in human experience (Irving 2). According to Irving, perversity and dehumanized behaviors were not traits unique to the Conquistador as deviations could also be found among other people. Only because Spain was politically dominant and feared by other nations of Europe who envied the spoils of conquest, the Spaniard became the symbol of the collective cruelty of the European peoples engaged in the westernization of the world (Irving 10). In addition, Irving presents an account of the democratization of reading with the rise of the so-called “romances of chivalry” in the fifteenth century. These romances represented the first type of popular literature that demonstrated the commercial possibilities of the recently invented printing press (Irving 13). Irving states that “this literary fashion spread like a contagion into the neighboring countries of Europe and also crossed the ocean to the New World” (13). These fictional narratives stimulated the Conquistador, identified as “the energetic and adventurous element of Spanish society” (Irving 25).

Many other issues are explored in Books of the Brave. There is a reference to the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire and its neighboring territories in the 1520's (Irving 54). Irving also mentions the unproductive efforts of the clergy, the moralists, and even the monarchs of sixteenth-century Spain to destroy the passionate devotion of the reading public to more undemanding forms of fiction (76). The author points out that the end of the period of high adventure and stirring conquest in the New World occurred at the close of the sixteenth century “when Spain had clearly passed the zenith of its power and the era of tremendous expansion was over” (Irving 241). To conclude, Irving highlights “when the commanders of the annual fleets sailed from Spain to the Indies in the spring and early summer of 1605, they were probably unconscious of serving as instruments for the introduction into the New World of one of the greatest literary works of all time, Don Quijote de la Mancha written by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra” (270).
 
References:

Leonard, Irving A. Books of the Brave: Being an Account of Books and of Men in the Spanish Conquest and Settlement of the Sixteenth-Century New World. 1949, 1967. Berkeley, Los Angeles, Oxford: University of California Press, 1992.

JOHN ELDREDGE: A BEAUTIFUL OUTLAW

Denisse Luna: Caution

By Dinorah Pérez-Rementería

I have written this review with the purpose of introducing Jesus to the casual reader, in the same way John Edredge does in Beautiful Outlaw or Pastor Joel Osteen accomplishes in his sermon each week. But, I like to play with and dissolve myself into words. So, please be aware: if Jesus is not here, between you and I, then run away, without guilty feelings, like my little brother did. He could not get past the second page. As Eldredge says, “Jesus is infinitely creative,” and he will find another, more effective way to capture you.

 

 

“An artist is revealed in the work he or she creates, and in the abundance of the work created,” says John Eldredge in Beautiful Outlaw, his book on the personality of Jesus (57). Very few things can be as life-giving and fulfilling as discovering –how to know and see- God through his creations. Having received eyes to see and ears to hear (him), one is inevitably drawn into an appealing search –a search for deeper connections and elements that help us deal with the unpredictability of the ocean as well as the complex mental, physical, emotional design of a human being.

An essential of life, these connections encompass the power to awaken curiosity and stimulate a natural inspired impulse in each of us. The forms, orders and patterns, from which our intellect and perceptions are nurtured, have been somewhat inspired by them, serving as interactive channels enlarging, enriching, and, most of all, facilitating the emergence of connections as such. Indeed, (external) patterns, orders and forms are needed insofar as they might help provoke in people a spontaneous inner glow –that is, an intimate desire to navigate connections free from pressure and be smoothly permeated by them. Very often, however, our experience of patterns, orders, and forms is not fruitful. We recite, memorize, and follow through. We might become used to take patterns for the truth. Instead of approaching patterns as they truly are –substantial venues pointing our way to greater treasures- we unconsciously learn to adopt them, without realizing that patterns of thinking and behavior sometimes can be reductive or even distorted. Thus, they may turn into an obstacle for us to find pleasure in exploring the connections.

A similar episode happens with regard to the question of who God is and how we relate to him. Many associate God with the idea of being religiously affiliated to church or certain ritual practices. Unfortunately, while these individuals learn to accommodate their searching to a specific pattern or religious methodology, they may not experience a free desire to navigate God. Nonetheless, others seem impregnated with some of God’s essential qualities –goodness, creativity, pure (uncorrupted) spontaneity and Life. John Eldredge from Ransomed Heart Ministries is one of these people. By reading his books, one comes into an effortless, engaging experience of God. God created the heavens and the earth, and he also created man in his own image: caring, resourceful and ingenious. God’s spirit reminds us of those deeper connections that, of their own accord, emerge out of nowhere –or perhaps, everywhere- fueling our brains as well as our heartbeat.

Can molds or patterns ever confine, encapsulate creativity, spontaneity and Life? Well, a pattern in itself can portray the religious, or the theological, or mathematical, or historical…Still, it can never imprison God. On the other hand, God can surely permeate a human pattern. After all, humanity was created in his image. Despite man’s failure to recognize that he had been naturally, generously, empowered by God to act and think in caring, resourceful, ingenious ways from the beginning –a crash which somehow set up the arena for a long list of frightful events, orders and archetypes that have facilitated the spreading of inaccurate and very poor interpretations of God among the people-, he has faithfully assumed/infiltrated fantastic shapes inciting us to recuperate his humane spirit. As a matter of fact, God appeared on earth in his most beautiful form two thousand years ago, determined to uncover himself as he is and rescue a deluded mankind once and for all.

Author John Eldredge calls Jesus a “beautiful outlaw.” His love for God filters through the pages of the book like an ocean wave, like a burning bush. In the introduction, as he invites us to delve into the major adventure/finding of our lives, he writes: “More words about Jesus are helpful only if they bring us to an experience of him” (x). A humorous, alarming, abundant Jesus emerges from Eldredge’s words as he does from the Gospels, our memories, our sufferings, our visions -when we see him as he is. As Eldredge suggests, “Our experience of Jesus is limited most often by the limits we put on him” (154), which means that patterns, orders, and archetypes, whether religious, academic, historical, social, moral, or any others, that may have fed (and possibly codified) our perceptions but have become a barrier preventing us from navigating God after a while, can dissolve in him. In Romans 12:2 in The Bible, the apostle Paul asks us not to conform to the pattern of the world but to be transformed by the renewing of our mind. Ironically, as the stagnant (flower?) arrangements of the world melt away in Christ, other deeper, shape-free connections transpire, permeating us like the Holy Spirit, or a Thunder Storm, or a Loving Eye, or an Open Sea.

Throughout the book, Eldredge beautifully recovers the unadulterated humanity of Jesus, in its entire fruitful and assorted features: his playfulness and intelligence, his trueness and ardent intention of restoring mankind, his profuse generosity and troublesome honesty, his beauty and humility, and his scandalous freedom. For Eldredge, writing about Jesus essentially becomes a passionate, enjoyable, and surrendered encounter with the love of his life, and the author welcomes us to partake in -and be pervaded by- it, as any generous man (or woman) would, in the same way Jesus does. Eldredge says, “An intimate encounter with Jesus is the most transforming experience of human existence. To know him as he is, is to come home. To have his life, joy, love, and presence cannot be compared. A true knowledge of Jesus is our greatest need and our greatest happiness. To be mistaken about him is the saddest mistake of all” (11).  Life, joy, love, the presence of Jesus is, in the midst of agonies and pain, an event that energizes us to imagine, to dream of fertile connections among all patterns we see, to open up to a new appreciation of what it means to be a human effortlessly immersed in the spirit of God.

One can’t help but feel easily attracted to the unpolluted, transparent character of Jesus. Why couldn’t we be/act more like him? Jesus’s qualities must have served as inspiration for the creation of the human race, though, as Eldredge notices,“the ravages of sin, neglect, abuse, and a thousand addictions have left us all a shadow of what we were meant to be. Jesus is humanity in its truest form. His favorite title for himself was the Son of Man”(48). Sharp, playful, an alluring man, Jesus splendidly portrays the compelling dynamics of genuine humanity, intended by God since the conception of mankind. Eldredge recalls how, after “having conquered death, ransomed mankind, been restored to his Father, his friends, and the world he made,” a happy, disguised Jesus shows up before his disciples in an informal way instead of choosing to announce, as both religious people and scholars would have expected, “his risen presence on the beach with radiant glory,” mischievously recreating their very first encounter, as narrated in Luke 5, and taking his devoted followers by surprise (3).

Another appealing moment that allows us to perceive Jesus’s operative sense of humor happens when the tax collectors intercept Peter to ask whether his personal coach pays the temple tariff, in Mathew 17:24-27. Here, Eldredge notices that even though Peter confirms that his instructor adheres to the “legal” duties in the village, the disciple could have doubted the righteousness of Jesus, as the Master senses an urgent need to rescue him from subsequent thoughts by posing a very ingenious question, along with a ludicrous four-drachma coin story inviting Peter to go fishing until a deeper understanding of (or connection to) “the Law” materialized from the inside (23-24). The customary rigidity and officially permitted two-dimensionality of God, which had been experienced and “enforced” by religious practitioners for so long, appears torn from top to bottom like the curtain of the temple in the projection, incarnation of Jesus.

“The incarnation is one of the greatest treasures of our faith,” Eldredge writes in Beautiful Outlaw, for it may cause in us a natural and unaffected desirability for the personality of God (47). The author corroborates that when Jesus came, “he came as presented in the Gospels –very much human, a person, a man, with a very distinct personality (…) This is how he chooses to make himself known” (Eldredge 51). Undeniable evidences can be found in the Gospels that testify of Jesus’s organic human nature. Eldredge mentions, for instance, the passage in which Jesus went to Gethsemane and prayed so intensely that his sweat looked like dropping blood (44). In addition to enduring a severe perspiration that, together with the dust of the roads he walked, might have possibly provoked serious acne breakouts on his face, Jesus ate, drank, rested when he felt tired, openly confronted the two-faced individuals who tried to prevent others from freely experiencing the curative power of God and, all the while, warned the “restored ones” against making the healing sessions a theatrical affair, as well as withdrew to solitary places to express his deepest sorrows. Eldredge also emphasizes, “Jesus enjoyed people” and had the opportunity to feast with “a rowdy crowd” in numerous occasions (49). “His longing for companionship” breaks the surface in the moment Jesus asks Peter and the two sons of Zebedee to simply stay awake while he prays in Gethsemane, revealing how much “He who created love and friendship” desires to build a true, affectionate connection with us (Eldredge 49-50).

Building undiluted connections would grow to be one of Jesus’s utmost projects. As we learn from the Gospels, he looks intrinsically detached from the inconsistent politics, paradigms and “orders” of the world surrounding him, though Jesus ingeniously intervenes (in) them, with the purpose of rescuing people from falling, yet again, under affected religiosity or anarchist deception. As John Eldredge highlights, “Jesus’ three years of public ministry are one long intervention (…) He is on a mission to rescue a people who are so utterly deceived most of them don’t even want to be rescued” (68). The author calls our attention, for instance, to the occasion in which a certain man who occupied a position in the synagogue invites Jesus to share dinner with him. In contrast to the behavior pattern standardized by the rule-making system, Jesus chooses not to wash his hands but go straight in and seat at the table. When he notices the surprised man’s face, Jesus replies, “Now then, you Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside you are full of greed and wickedness” (Luke 11:37-39). In this regard, Eldredge reminds us that “whenever you are watching Jesus, you are watching love (…) in action,” a love that does not necessarily have to be interpreted as “polite” but rather an honest one (67). “When a soul is encrusted with pride, bigotry, self-righteousness, and intellectual eliticism –as was his dinner host- then the shell does need to be struck hard at times in order to cause a crack that might allow some light in. Jesus strikes with the precision of Michelangelo,” the writer argues, inviting us to approach Jesus’s attitude from an unsettling perspective (Eldredge 68).

A disconcerting Jesus appears to be constantly defying the schematizations and convictions of our cultural politics. As Eldredge affirms,

The spirit of our day is a soft acceptance of everything –except deep conviction in anything. This is where Jesus will suddenly confront the world as a great rock confronts the river flowing ever downhill. He is immovable. The cry used to be for “tolerance,” by which we meant, “We have very strong differences, but we will not let those be the cause of hatred or violence between us.” Now it is something else, where all convictions are softened to second or third place while we all agree to enjoy the world as much as we can. But truth is not like conviction. Conviction might be a matter of personal opinion, but truth is like a great mountain, solid and immovable whether we like it or even acknowledge it. Christianity is not a set of convictions –it is a truth. The most offensive thing imaginable. (Eldredge 79)

An example of Jesus’s holy defiance becomes visible in many of his spontaneous healing sessions. After Jesus finishes sharing “the Sermon of the Mount” with his followers, a man with leprosy approaches him, in hopes of being made clean. Although Jesus could have healed the leper from a distance, for as Eldredge recalls “there are many accounts where all he does is say the word and people are healed,” Jesus touches him because “this is the one thing the man needs” (82-83). The writer notes, “To be starved for human touch is far worse than to starve for bread” (Eldredge 83). In order to help us gain a better understanding of Jesus’s action, Eldredge creates an opportune linkage between what “being a leper” meant to the Jewish society and the public reaction toward those suffering from AIDS during the early years of crisis. Touching the leper would make Jesus socially and politically “desecrated” before the official Jewish agencies. But, it is none other than his simple, caring gesture itself that transforms into a desecrating act. By touching the leper, Jesus strategically (and almost invisibly) tears to pieces the vicious politics of abjection that had expanded like weed within the religious Jewish culture.

Indeed, throughout the entire account of the Gospels, we can perceive the unquestionable impact Jesus’s faculty of discernment –consciousness, sensibility and knowledge- has on accomplishing the mission. Eldredge emphasizes, “He is no fool. He knows full well he is operating behind enemy lines. Oh, he intents a revolution, but he knows timing is essential. He must outwit his enemy, circumvent the religious authorities without seeming to do so, and train his followers to carry on after his departure (…)” (94). In the book of Mathew, Jesus openly declares to “the discarded” as well as the political advocates of the system that he has come to fulfill, not to abolish the Law or the Prophets. As opposed to establishing (a new set of orders and norms that would eventually be enforced upon the people), Jesus argues that he will fulfill –complete, accomplish, imbue, permeate, satiate- the established pattern of the Law, which essentially liberates us from the burden of guilt. But, later, the man adds, “Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven (…)” (Mathew 5:19).

While Jesus’s words comprise a releasing force, they seem to apprehend us on deeper level. As John Eldredge says, “Without his teaching on genuine holiness, the crowd could shift to anarchy” (95). Is Jesus instigating us, in an indirect way, to recognize -to remember- that we have always been released by God to act and think caringly, not so much by circumscribing ourselves to a secular or a religious archetype but by means of sustaining a closer connection with him? While we may use (religious, theological, historical, mathematical, scientific…) paradigms as facilitating channels for tracing, classifying, assimilating the abundance of Creation*, we would be terribly deceived if we take them for the source/fountain of experience per se. The words of Jesus have the power to deactivate any external pattern, or format, or deception scheme as they, in basic terms, awaken us to him. For only Jesus brings us (back) into a fulfilled, complete, accomplished, satiated experience of God, as happened in the beginning of mankind, as so generously still occurs in our early childhood years. The weight of Jesus’s presence comes to light through his words, a true and uncompromising way to live and love.

Eldredge recalls that Jesus “doesn’t force anyone to follow him. He seems rather reluctant to do his miracles. He never overwhelms anyone’s will with a fantastic display of his majesty,” living out the most unobstructed view of God, displaying an entrancing sense of holiness, and letting people walk away from him if they want (103). In Philippians 2:6-7, the apostle Paul expresses about Jesus, “being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” As Jesus neutralizes all archetypes constructed by men trying to encapsulate, domesticate, and ultimately accommodate God’s spirit into their own thinking model, he entirely satisfies the human pattern.

To empathize with the beautiful humility of Jesus, we need to consider several factors that are often overlooked. First of all, by becoming human, Jesus learned how to derive his life –the needed fuel for his actions- from the Father, surrendering his inherent influence over Creation, in order to teach us to do the same. He had to learn to walk, talk, tie his shoes, use a hammer and a saw, and nail two boards together (Eldredge 108-109). Eldredge observes, “God –who is in all places at all times –has to get from one place to another like a guy who can’t even come up with bus fare,” calling our attention to the fact that “we pass right over phrases such as ‘Jesus went up to Jerusalem’,” as if he had merely crossed the street to purchase some milk at the public store, when the real distance between Bethany and Cana is nearly sixty miles (109-110). At the time people go out to the Jordan River to be baptized by John, Jesus does so as well, patiently waiting his turn in line. As Eldredge says, “Nobody gives him a second glance. He’s just another sun-baked Jew in robe and sandals” (111). Contrasting Jesus’s ordinary, unimposing appearance with the attitude of a few leaders who believe “they’ve come to change the world,” Eldredge offers the following comment,

When Saddam Hussein was ousted from his dictatorship, a good deal of coverage was given to public places in Iraq. What I found particularly disgraceful were the massive idols he had erected in his honor. Murals and statues of Hussein the Magnificent were plastered all over the country –a handsome and dashing military hero, bold, a man for the people, forty years younger than he actually was. A demigod. Many dictators have done the same. Hitler did it. Chairman Mao too. It’s just creepy –the self-obsession, self-exaltation, the desire to be worshiped. Yet the only king who ever had a right to be worshiped shows up riverside (…) and waits his turn. (111)

Drawing substantiation from the Father frees Jesus to be true humanity for us –that is, as Eldredge says, “to be entirely free of false guilt, free from pressure, from false allegiances” (129). The writer makes a point of arguing,

It is what enables him to be so scandalous. This is the secret of his ability to navigate praise and contempt. Neither success nor opposition has power over him. One day the crowds love him, the next day they are shouting for his crucifixion. Jesus is the same man –the same personality- through the whole swirling tempest. Jesus is free from the fear of man. It is something more than integrity, though it certainly encompasses that. He is true to himself, true to his Father, true to what the moment most requires, true to love. In this forest of fig leaves, where you are never sure you are getting the true person, there is nothing false about Jesus. (Eldredge 129-130).

To our amazement, the human pattern filled by Jesus thoroughly reveals the spirit of God. The apostle John insists, “No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known” (1:18). One can say that Jesus becomes a building block, the authentic, deeper connection among all the elements created by God, and through which we can learn of the Artist himself, from lightning to sweat, to an unruly heartbeat, to desire and wisdom, to the person of our dreams. Eldredge explores Jesus from an unfastened perspective,

He is the playfulness of creation, scandal and utter goodness, the generosity of the ocean and the ferocity of a thunderstorm; he is cunning as a snake and gentle as a whisper; the gladness of sunshine and the humility of a thirty-mile walk by foot on a dirt road. Reclining at a meal, laughing with friends, and then going to the cross. That is what we mean when we say Jesus is beautiful. But, most of all, it is the way he loves. In all those stories, every encounter, we have watched love in action. Love as strong as death; a blood, sweat, and tears love, not a get-well card. You learn a great deal about the true nature of a person in the way they love, why they love, and, in what they love. (137)

Jesus is, as Eldredge says, “the missing essence of our existence” (200). “We need Jesus like we need oxygen,” writes the author, letting his life be impregnated by the dynamic strength of God. If we are willing, we can actually find Jesus incarnated everywhere, in an open friendship or a corrective word, in our most faithful high school students, in spontaneous acts of kindness, in my brother and my grandmothers, Eldredge, Joel, Andrew, Peter, Nancy, Paul, and the apostle John. How could I introduce Jesus to the young adults living in the South West area? (Ms. Dinorah hammers on the bathroom door in holy anger, wondering why her students have abandoned her in the classroom.) “Jesus is your pill, el cigarro, a faithful lover, the means for us to gain access to The Trinity, a most heroic, fear-provoking gang, a friend we can trust with our lives…” I bet Jesus would tenderly whisper in my ear: “too many complicated words,” as he’d simply show up among them, shake their hands, and say “hello.”

http://updates.ransomedheart.com/replay/

Note

*It is important that you experience the word Creation as you naturally would. Feel free to adjust, generate, expand, negate, interact with the term according to what the moment most requires.

Bibliography

Eldredge, John. Beautiful Outlaw: Exploring the Playful, Disruptive, Extravagant Personality of Jesus. New York, Boston, Nashville: FaithWords, 2011.

Schökel, Luis Alonso. La biblia de nuestro pueblo. Bilbao; Quezon City: Ediciones Mensajero, 2006.

UN HERMOSO FORAJIDO

Foto: Isabel Pérez Lago

Por Dinorah Pérez-Rementería

Breve nota al lector: La idea de este texto es simplemente presentarte a Jesús, como hace John Eldredge en Beautiful Outlaw o los cuatro evangelistas bíblicos, o el joven pastor Joel Osteen en su alocución cada semana. Si Jesús no aflora aquí, en ti y para ti, nada de culpabilidad, escapa, corre, pon pies en polvorosa: a mí me gusta jugar, diluirme en las palabras. De hecho, mi hermano pequeño no pudo pasar de la segunda página. “Jesús es infinitamente creativo”, dice Eldredge y puede pescarte de cualquier otra manera.

“El artista se revela a sí mismo en su trabajo y en la abundancia de la obra creada”, dice John Eldredge en Beautiful Outlaw, su libro sobre la personalidad de Jesús (57). Muy pocas cosas en la vida lo estimulan a uno como el acto de descubrir –aprender a ver y conocer- a Dios a través de sus obras. Luego de haber recibido ojos para ver y oídos para escuchar(lo), resulta imposible aplacar el ardiente deseo de búsqueda, una búsqueda de conexiones y elementos más profundos que nos ayuden a lidiar con la imprevisibilidad del océano y el vehemente diseño emotivo, físico y mental del ser humano.

En tanto se comportan como motivación esencial de la existencia, las conexiones mencionadas tienen el poder de estimularnos, impulsarnos, despertar en nosotros la curiosidad. De aquí que puedan inspirar la conformación de patrones, formas y órdenes que nutren nuestro intelecto y percepción en general, y que, a su vez, sirven como canales o medios interactivos para acrecentar, enriquecer, facilitar la emergencia de asociaciones como tal. En realidad, podríamos decir que uno requiere de formas, órdenes, y patrones externos siempre y cuando éstos nos provoquen un resplandor interior –el anhelo de navegar y de disponerse a encontrar conexiones espontáneamente. Sin embargo, no siempre logramos deshacernos de nuestro apego al patrón. Preferimos recitar, memorizar, santificar los métodos de percepción que -en lugar de invitarnos a interpretar las conexiones por lo que realmente son: rutas, sendas, caminos que conducen a riquezas más considerables- las reducen, dividen o simplemente distorsionan, convirtiéndose en obstáculo que nos impide explorar.

Algo similar ocurre en lo concerniente a Dios y la manera en que nos relacionamos con él. Muchas personas asocian la frase “creer en Dios” a la idea de afiliarse a (o involucrarse religiosamente en) una iglesia o práctica ritual, sin tener en cuenta que, aun cuando hayamos aprendido a acomodar nuestras inquietudes psicológicas, académicas, rituales, dentro de ciertos patrones o cánones, únicamente a partir de un deseo espontáneo, podríamos animarnos a buscar, a navegarlo. Por otro lado, hay individuos que parecieran haber sido impregnados con la bondad, energía, y creatividad de Dios sin proponérselo, como John Eldredge, de Ransomed Heart Ministries, por ejemplo. En sus libros, uno encuentra un espacio de atractiva comunión, comunicación con Dios. Dios creó el cielo y la tierra, y también al hombre, compasivo, ingenioso, emprendedor. Su espíritu emerge, como aquellas profundas conexiones, de ningún lugar, o de cualquier lugar, avivando nuestra mente y el latido del corazón.

¿Acaso pueden los patrones o los moldes confinar, encapsular la vida, la creatividad, la espontaneidad? Los patrones representan escasamente las tendencias rituales, teológicas, matemáticas, históricas; nunca podrían aprisionar a Dios. Y sin embargo, Dios sí puede permear el patrón humano. Como dice La Biblia, la humanidad fue creada a su imagen y semejanza. A pesar de que el hombre no reconoció desde el principio que poseía la fuerza e inteligencia necesarias para pensar y actuar humanamente –lo cual devino en la imposición de sucesos y modelos repelentes y por ende la propagación de interpretaciones desajustadas e imprecisas sobre la naturaleza de Dios-, él nunca ha dejado de asumir/infiltrar fantásticos perfiles para incitarnos a recuperar su proyección humana. De hecho, con el propósito de descubrirnos quién es él en realidad y liberar al hombre del arquetipo engañoso, utilitario en que se había convertido,  Dios adoptó nuestra “estructura” y apareció (como si nada) entre nosotros dos mil años atrás.

El escritor John Eldredge considera a Jesús “un hermoso forajido”. Su amor por Dios se filtra en las páginas del libro, como una zarza ardiente, una ola de mar. En la introducción, Eldredge nos invita a sumergirnos en la aventura más significativa de nuestras vidas: “Necesitamos más palabras sólo si nos permiten experimentar a Jesús,” dice el autor. Un Jesús alarmante, abundante, travieso aparece en su palabra, como en la Buena Noticia, o un recuerdo dulce, un sufrimiento, una visión. Aprender a verlo como realmente es. Eldredge sugiere, “A veces nuestra experiencia se reduce debido a los límites que elegimos” (154). Los patrones académicos, religiosos, históricos, sociales, morales, que alimentan (codifican) nuestra facultad de percepción y que se convierten al final en un estorbo, pueden disolverse por medio de Jesús. En su carta a los romanos, el apóstol Pablo pide que no nos acomodemos al mundo sino que nos dejemos transformar interiormente a través de la renovación de nuestra mente. Irónicamente, cuando los arreglos (florales) estancados del mundo se evaporan una vez que lo encontramos, otras conexiones más libres se abren paso, y nos salpican, nos permean como la lluvia de verano, un ojo apasionado, o el Espíritu Santo.

Eldredge recupera los rasgos más sobresalientes que componen la atractiva humanidad de Jesús: su sentido del humor, su inteligencia, su ardiente intención de rescatarnos, su generosidad y honestidad profusas, y su espíritu libre. Para Eldredge, escribir sobre Jesús se convierte esencialmente en un apasionado, disfrutable y entregado encuentro con el amor de su vida. El autor nos invita a compartir, dejarnos inundar por su alegría, como lo haría cualquier hombre desprendido, de la misma forma en que lo hace Jesús. Dice Eldredge, “Un encuentro personal con Jesús resulta la experiencia más transformadora de la existencia humana. Conocerlo a él es encontrar el camino a casa. Dejarse llenar con su presencia, su energía, su alegría, su amor no se puede comparar. Conocer verdaderamente a Jesús constituye la necesidad más imperiosa y la felicidad más completa de nuestra vida. Tener opiniones desacertadas sobre su persona es una gran equivocación” (11). La presencia de Jesús, en medio del dolor y la agonía, produce la energía necesaria para estimularnos a imaginar, soñar enlaces furtivos entre patrones, órdenes, sucesos, comenzar a experimentar qué significa ser humano a partir de la visión de Dios. 

El carácter transparente de Jesús atrae desde el primer momento. ¿Por qué no podríamos actuar/ser como él? Si los rasgos distintivos y el impulso transformador de Jesús pueden haber inspirado la creación de la raza humana, como anota Eldredge, “los estragos causados por los vicios, el abandono, el abuso y otras miles de adicciones nos han convertido en sombra de lo que pudimos ser. Jesús es humanidad en su forma más pura. De hecho, su título favorito era ‘Hijo del Hombre’”(48). Agudo, juguetón, fascinante, Jesús muestra al ser humano que Dios imaginó. Eldredge nos recuerda que, “luego de haber conquistado la muerte, rescatado la raza humana, regresado al mundo que había creado, al Padre, a sus amigos”, Jesús se presenta ante sus discípulos informalmente, haciéndose pasar por un desconocido en lugar de anunciar “con bombo y platillo su gloriosa presencia en la playa”, burlando el pensamiento elitista de los intelectuales y religiosos de la época, para así sorprender a sus seguidores, re-creando su primer/gran encuentro, como describe Lucas en su evangelio.

También observamos el operativo sentido del humor de Jesús cuando los recaudadores de impuestos detienen a Pedro para preguntarle si su instructor pagaba la tarifa del templo, en el evangelio de Mathew (17:24-27). Aquí Eldredge llama la atención sobre el hecho de que Pedro, quien confirma que su mentor cumple con las obligaciones legales establecidas, pudo haber dudado de la honestidad de Jesús. Jesús interviene sus pensamientos, haciéndole una pregunta ingeniosa, y enviándolo a pescar para refrescar su mente, lo cual le permitirá a Pedro alcanzar una interpretación más clara de La Ley (Eldredge 23-24). La proyección/encarnación de Jesús rompe/rasga códigos perceptivos obstinadamente rígidos y bidimensionales, como mismo Dios deshace la cortina del templo después de la muerte de Jesús.

“La encarnación de Jesús es uno de los tesoros más grandes de la fe que profesamos”, dice Eldredge en Beautiful Outlaw, nos produce un deseo libre, natural de descubrir la personalidad de Dios (47). El autor afirma que cuando Jesús apareció, “se presentó como lo describe el evangelio –un ser humano, una persona, un hombre con una personalidad muy característica” (Eldredge 51). Innegablemente, existen muchas evidencias en el evangelio que testifican sobre la naturaleza viva, humana de Jesús. Eldredge menciona, por ejemplo, el pasaje en que se narra la estancia de Jesús en Getsemaní, donde oró tan intensamente que el sudor caía sobre el suelo como enormes gotas de sangre (44). De aquí puede uno discurrir que Jesús padecía de una transpiración efervescente, y que unida al polvo del camino, pudo provocarle acné. Además, Jesús comió, bebió, tuvo que descansar cuando sus fuerzas flaqueaban, escapó a lugares solitarios para llorar sin molestar a nadie, desenmascaró a los hipócritas que obstaculizaban el paso a los enfermos, y al mismo tiempo nos alertó contra el impulso de teatralizar el influjo rehabilitador de Dios. Eldredge enfatiza, “Jesús disfrutaba a las personas”, y tuvo la oportunidad de compartir con una “turbulenta muchedumbre” (49). “Su angustiosa necesidad de sentirse acompañado” se materializa cuando Jesús le pide a Pedro y a los dos hijos de Zebedeo que permanezcan despiertos junto a él, mientras ora en Getsemaní, lo cual confirma cuánto “el creador de la amistad y del amor” añora construir con nosotros una sincera y afectuosa relación (Eldredge 49-50). 

Uno de los proyectos más importantes de Jesús radica en la construcción de verdaderas, más profundas conexiones. Cuando leemos los evangelios nos percatamos de que Jesús parece intrínsecamente desapegado a los órdenes paradigmáticos y políticas inconsistentes que le rodean, aunque sí l@s interviene, con el propósito de evitar que volvamos a caer en afectada religiosidad o la ficción anarquista. Como afirma John Eldredge, “Los tres años de ministerio público de Jesús son una larga intervención (…) Una misión para rescatar a un grupo de personas que está tan completamente sumergido en la apariencia que la mayoría ni siquiera quiere ser rescatada” (68). El autor destaca, por ejemplo, la ocasión en que cierto ejecutivo del templo invita a Jesús a cenar. Jesús rompe el patrón de conducta establecido por el sistema “religioso”, y se va directamente a la mesa sin lavarse las manos. Al ver el rostro sorprendido de su anfitrión, le dice “Ustedes fariseos limpian la parte externa del plato y la copa, pero por dentro están repletos de avaricia y maldad” (Lucas 11:37-39). Eldredge nos recuerda, “cada vez que veamos a Jesús navegar, tengamos en cuenta que estamos observando amor en acción, un amor que no se comporta “diplomática” sino honestamente (67). “Cuando el orgullo, el sectarismo, el elitismo intelectual y la ‘obligación’ moral se incrustan en el alma -como le pasaba a su anfitrión-, se necesita fracturar la concha para que entre un poco de luz. Jesús perfora nuestra coraza como lo haría Miguel Ángel”, escribe Eldredge, invitándonos a observar la propulsión ética/afectiva de Jesús desde una inquietante perspectiva (68).

La actitud de Jesús pareciera desafiar todas las esquematizaciones y convicciones que alimentan nuestras políticas culturales. Como afirma Eldredge,

La moda de hoy en día es aceptarlo todo –excepto las opiniones profundas sobre algo. De ahí que Jesús resiste al mundo como una gran roca afronta la imparable corriente de un río. Él es inamovible. Queríamos “tolerancia”, es decir, “llegar a aceptar nuestras diferencias y que éstas no se convirtieran en causa de violencia entre nosotros”. Ahora ocurre algo diferente, todas nuestras convicciones se han aplacado en tanto que preferimos disfrutar lo que nos rodea mientras podemos. Pero la verdad no tiene que ver con convicción. Las convicciones dependen de opiniones o doctrinas personales. La verdad se alza como una montaña enorme y sólida aunque no lo reconozcamos. La fe cristiana no se localiza en un conjunto de convicciones y doctrinas, radica en la verdad. El elemento más ofensivo que pudiéramos imaginar. (Eldredge 79)

Podemos encontrar una muestra de su intención desafiante en las sesiones de rehabilitación del prójimo. Poco después de terminar su discurso conocido como “El sermón del monte”, se le acerca un leproso pidiéndole ayuda. Aunque pudo haberlo sanado desde lejos, pues como recuerda Eldredge, “hay varios momentos en que él sólo tiene que pronunciar una palabra para sanar a la gente”, Jesús extendió su mano y lo tocó, sin importarle cuán enfermo estaba (82-83). El escritor hace notar, “una caricia resulta a veces más efectiva que darle al hambriento un mendrugo de pan” (Eldredge 83). Para que podamos entender la connotación real del simple gesto de Jesús, Eldredge conecta oportunamente lo que significaba enfermarse de lepra dentro de la sociedad judía y la atmósfera de terror que consumía a las personas durante los primeros años de la crisis del SIDA. La acción de tocar al leproso desacreditaría a Jesús social y políticamente ante los tribunales. Pero, a su vez, se convertiría en acto retador. A través de su minúsculo y desprendido movimiento, Jesús arrasa, casi invisiblemente, la política discriminatoria que se extendía como la mala yerba dentro de la cultura religiosa.

A lo largo del evangelio podemos percibir las maniobras cognitivas de Jesús y su  marcado impacto en el desarrollo de la misión. Eldredge hace notar, “Él no es tonto. Sabe perfectamente que está circundado por las tropas enemigas. Ah sí, él quiere hacer una revolución, pero también sabe que tiene que esperar el momento propicio. Debe burlar a sus enemigos, tratar de esquivar las restricciones impuestas por las autoridades religiosas sin llamar la atención y entrenar a sus discípulos para que puedan continuar después de su partida (…)”  (94). En el evangelio de Mateo, Jesús declara abiertamente ante los que lo escuchan que él ha venido a consumar, no a abolir la Ley o los Profetas. Tampoco le interesa establecer un nuevo conjunto de órdenes o normas que terminarían aplastando a las personas, dice que ha venido a consumar –cumplir, completar, satisfacer, saciar, permear- el patrón establecido, liberándonos esencialmente del peso de la culpa. Más adelante, añade, “El que desobedezca alguno de los mandamientos y anime a otras personas a hacer lo mismo será considerado insignificante en el reino de Dios (…)” (Mateo 5:19).

Las palabras de Jesús redimen y parecieran querer aprehendernos al mismo tiempo. John Eldredge señala, “Sin un entrenamiento de santidad genuina, la multitud terminaría en la anarquía” (95). ¿Nos instiga Jesús a reconocer –recordar- que Dios puede equiparnos para pensar y actuar responsablemente mediante una conexión abierta, un enlace espontáneo, directo, sin tener que circunscribirnos siquiera a un prototipo suyo? Podemos utilizar los paradigmas como canales que facilitan y nos ayudan a adentrarnos, a rastrear la infinita variedad, abundancia del conocimiento y la Creación* de acuerdo a prácticas “establecidas”  pero nos engañaríamos si creemos que los patrones en sí mismos constituyen la fuente real de donde mana la experiencia. Las palabras de Jesús desactivan esquemas engañosos, patrones y formatos externos. Su presencia nos devuelve alegría y satisfacción, sabiendo que existe Dios, como sucedió al inicio, como milagrosamente ocurre aún en nuestra infancia. El carácter de Jesús aflora en su palabra, su obsesión imperturbable, su inquebrantable deseo de vivir, amar.

Eldredge resalta, “Jesús no obliga a nadie a seguirlo. Más bien, se muestra reacio a realizar milagros. No le gusta abrumar a las personas con muestras fantásticas de su poder”, prefiere descubrir su/nuestra humanidad como efectivamente podría ser, nos ofrece una atractiva visión sobre Dios y el concepto de santidad, y –aunque pudiera sentirse invadido por una inmensa tristeza- no retiene a quien decide elegir otro camino (103).  En la Carta a los filipenses (2:6-7), el apóstol Pablo dice “a pesar de su naturaleza divina, nunca alardeó de ser igual a Dios, sino que renunció a ella para tomar nuestra condición humana”. Jesús neutraliza todo patrón superficial erigido por el hombre con el propósito de “encapsular”, aprisionar, domesticar su espíritu/el espíritu de Dios, no obstante él sí puede satisfacer el patrón humano.

Para lograr vislumbrar el alcance del carácter humilde de Jesús, vamos a considerar algunos elementos que pasan desapercibidos en muchas ocasiones. Al adoptar nuestra figura humana, Jesús tuvo que aprender a extraer/asimilar energía –el combustible necesario para atravesar e intervenir el entorno- del Padre, desprendiéndose de su consustancial dominio sobre la Creación, para así enseñarnos a hacer lo mismo. Aprendió a caminar, hablar, amarrarse los zapatos, usar el serrucho y el martillo, y unir dos tablas con un clavo (Eldredge 108-109). “Dios –que está en todos los lugares a cualquier hora- tiene que desplazarse de un lugar a otro como el individuo que ni siquiera puede pagarse la tarifa del ómnibus,” señala Eldredge, haciendo énfasis en que la mayoría de las veces “leemos frases como ‘Jesús se fue a Jerusalén’” y nos lo imaginamos cruzando la calle camino al puesto de leche, cuando en realidad entre Betania y Caná hay cerca de 60 millas (109-110). Vale mencionar además el pasaje que recoge las andanzas de Juan el Bautista, y que presenta a Jesús esperando su turno pacientemente en la larga fila de personas que recibirían el bautismo. Como afirma Eldredge, “Nadie le presta atención, es un judío más, con toga y sandalias (111)”. Comparando la modesta presencia de Jesús con la actitud de algunos líderes que creen que vienen a “cambiar el mundo”, Eldredge ofrece el siguiente comentario,

Cuando la dictadura de Saddam Hussein fue derrocada, se les dio mucha cobertura a los lugares públicos en los medios de difusión. Los ídolos masivos que había erigido en su honor me parecieron degradantes. Una ola de estatuas y murales de Hussein el Magnífico inundó el país –un héroe galante y seductor, imponente, un hombre del pueblo y para el pueblo, cuarenta años más joven de lo que era en verdad. Un semidios. Muchos dictadores han hecho lo mismo como Hitler y Chairman Mao. Es sencillamente espeluznante –la auto-obsesión, la auto-exaltación, el deseo de conquistar admiración. Y sin embargo el único rey que siempre tuvo el derecho de ser venerado se presenta en la ribera (…) y espera su turno. (111)

Jesús recibe su validación del Padre y por ende puede revelar, manifestar libremente su sensibilidad, como subraya Eldredge, “sin culpas, ni presiones, ni ataduras falsas” (129). El autor argumenta,

Por eso Jesús nos escandaliza, su secreto, una habilidad que le permite navegar el menosprecio y la aprobación de la gente. Ni el éxito ni la oposición pueden doblegarlo. La muchedumbre lo ama un día, y a la mañana siguiente está gritando a voz en cuello para que lo crucifiquen. Jesús sigue siendo el mismo a través del remolino, de la tempestad. No tiene miedo al qué dirán. No puedo siquiera resumir su proyección usando la palabra “integridad” aunque Jesús es un hombre íntegro. Jesús no se engaña a sí mismo, ni al Padre, hace lo que debe en cada momento, y sobre todo ama verdaderamente. En este bosque de higueras sin higos, donde no se sabe si existe alguien sincero, podemos decir que en Jesús no hay falsedad. (Eldredge 129-130)

El patrón (humano) permeado/consumado por Jesús nos permite conocer el carácter de Dios. El apóstol Juan expresa en su evangelio, “Nadie ha visto jamás a Dios; el hijo único, que habita junto a él, nos lo dio a conocer” (1:18). Uno podría decir que Jesús se convierte en el bloque que vincula los elementos diseñados por la mano de Dios: sabiduría, sudor, relámpagos, el hombre (o la mujer) que amas, latidos, anhelos; su invisible conexión. Eldredge lo explora sin reservas,

Él personifica la creación, bondad escandalosa, la generosidad del océano, la impetuosidad de una tormenta, la alegría de la luz, y una humilde caminata en el camino polvoriento; es astuto como una serpiente y gentil como un susurro; reclinado sobre la mesa; riéndose con sus amigos; y luego en la cruz. A esto me refiero cuando digo que es hermoso. Pero, sobre todo, me llama la atención la manera en que ama. En todas las historias, en cada encuentro, tenemos la oportunidad de observar su amor en acción. Amor tan fuerte como la muerte; un amor impregnado de sudor, de sangre y lágrimas, no una tarjeta de buenos deseos. Uno puede conocer la verdadera naturaleza de las personas poniendo atención a lo que ama, por qué ama, y cómo ama. (137)

Jesús es, como Eldredge dice, “la esencia que debemos recuperar en nuestra vida” (200). “Necesitamos a Jesús como el oxígeno”, escribe el autor, dejándose infiltrar por su fuerza y dinamismo (Eldredge 200). Si nos lo proponemos, podemos encontrar a Jesús encarnado en todas partes, en una relación honesta, en un oportuno halón de orejas, en maestros y estudiantes que desafían el sistema educacional frecuentemente, en pequeños actos de amor, bondad y fe, en mi hermano, mis abuelas, el propio Eldredge -que se esfuma del dominio público como el Espíritu Santo-, Jim, Joel, Andrés, Pedro, Pablo, Nancy y Juan. Me pregunto, qué diría Jesús a los adolescentes que viven actualmente en la zona sur de Houston. Si fuera yo, les gritaría sin piedad (Ms. Dinorah se prepara para irrumpir como un huracán en el diminuto cuarto de baño donde sus estudiantes shuffle): “Jesús es la píldora, el cigarro, el amante, el único medio de acceso a la pandilla más heroica del universo, un amigo que nos abrazará para siempre, inspirándonos a atravesar el reino de este mundo corroído, carcomido, destruido, y a intervenirlo/nos, abiertamente”. (En lugar de usar tantas palabras, apuesto a que Jesús aprendería a bailar.)

* Sería refrescante que nos diéramos la oportunidad de experimentar la palabra Creación como lo haríamos naturalmente. Podríamos entonces ajustar, generar, expandir, negar incluso, interactuar con el término libremente, de acuerdo a lo que en verdad se necesita.

Bibliografía

Eldredge, John. Beautiful Outlaw: Exploring the Playful, Disruptive, Extravagant Personality of Jesus. New York, Boston, Nashville: FaithWords, 2011.

Schökel, Luis Alonso. La biblia de nuestro pueblo. Bilbao; Quezon City: Ediciones Mensajero, 2006.

THE AMERICAS' FIRST ACADEMIC LIBRARY

Deniria Cornejo: This is Getting Good

This volume contains a collection of essays providing a detailed landscape of the first institutions dedicated to the preservation of books in the Americas, thought of as a means to secure the success of the natives’ conversion to Catholicism and acculturation into the Spanish way of life. As author W. Michael Mathes says in the introduction, “the printed book, much less costly to produce in quantity than manuscripts, allowed for the rapid and increasingly widespread growth of literacy, and along with it, education” (1). According to Mathes, libraries were the foundation for the great intellectual change that started in Europe during the XVI century (1).

The Spaniards, who were assigned to carry out the literacy enterprise, made a strong emphasis on linguistics and catechism. They mostly used graphics, ceremonies and fiestas as an efficient (and fun) method of instruction. At the beginning of the XVI century, the children of native leaders and officials received classes of reading and writing. Some scholars, like Bishop Juan de Zumárraga, envisioned ideal acculturation through the ordination of a native priesthood educated at a special seminary for outstanding descendants of caciques (7).

To develop the project of acculturation and education, many institutions were built in the New World. For example, the Colegio Imperial de Santa Cruz de Tlatelolco and its library, which are explored in depth in the second chapter of Mathes’s book, were two of the well known spaces that offered the necessary didactic conditions fulfilling the Spaniards’ plan for “teaching” the natives. Tlatelolco was the site selected for the construction of the new seminary and other educational facilities. Permanent buildings were raised to protect books from humidity. The Colegio became the main center for research in native culture and linguistics. Yet, as Mathes affirms, the prohibition of the ordination of Indian Clergy eliminated the original function of the Colegio (18). Censorship and regulation of books created burdens upon the students by limiting the library (20).

The next chapter of the book refers to the Colegio of Ethnographic and Linguistic research. The continuous processes of repair and expansion of the institution are mentioned, as well as the belief that censorship caused the withdrawal of many important volumes from the library, creating an atmosphere of caution in relation to owning books while complicating their acquisition (33). However, the shipments of books continued to arrive in the New Spain with every fleet. Mathes uses two appendices as concluding materials for his book. The first of them presents an exhaustive record of contents of the Santiago Tlatelolco library from 1535 to 1600. The second appendix holds the Mexican imprints housed in it.

Bibliography

Mathes, W. Michael. The Americas' First Academic Library: Santa Cruz de Tlatelolco. Sacramento: California State Library Foundation, 1985.