Cursillos Are a Phenomenon in Spain as Well – Folha de S. Paulo, December 31, 1972
by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira
I was deeply impressed by four clippings from the prestigious Spanish magazine Vida Nueva on Cursillos in Christianity. What impression will these clippings make on those in our country who maintain that the Bishop of Campos’ accusations against this movement are mere figments of the imagination?
As everyone knows, Cursillismo originated in Spain and has its central and supreme leadership based there. It is precisely from that country that we receive news of doubts, discussions, and controversies about Cursillos among Catholics on the doctrinal level. Could the Cursillos have been “unjustly” attacked in Spain as well? It is quite a coincidence.
Let this serve as a reason to rein in, here in Brazil, some overly enthusiastic friends of Cursillos who protest Bishop Mayer’s astute and well-documented observations as if they were unacceptable absurdities or outright blasphemies. While Cursillos are openly controversial in their own homeland, some in Brazil see them as sacred animals that must not be touched.
I believe that presenting to readers what Vida Nueva publishes on this subject will help to cool the heated atmosphere surrounding Cursillismo.
The clipping I have in my hands reveals a letter to the editor of the magazine, signed by anonymous “cursillistas” from the large Archdiocese of Burgos.
First, the letter suggests there are “tensions” in Burgos resulting from the reported intention (of whom? the Archbishop, Most Rev. Segundo Garcia de Sierra y Méndez? The letter does not say so, but insinuates it) to establish a “prevalence of the so-called traditional line” over the innovative current.
According to the letter’s authors, this has resulted in “numerous changes in the diocese, which seem directed in a traditional direction with the apparent aim of appeasing a certain doctrinal line.” This language, full of confusing implications, suggests that the archbishop has listened to the concerns of theologians or lay people faithful to the Church’s traditional doctrine and has taken steps to eliminate from the Cursillos a number of abuses contrary to sound Catholic tradition.
What follows confirms this impression. In fact, the authors of the letter recount that the Cursillos were deeply affected by several remedial measures taken by the archbishop. They say that the renewal ordered in the archdiocese “first cost the Cursillos Movement the elimination, through successive transfers, of part of its priestly team (coincidentally, those most notorious for their tendency toward renewal under Vatican II guidelines) and, finally, its director.” The letter writers lament, “In vain have we been waiting for two months for his replacement’s appointment.”
Yet the Archbishop of Burgos did not consider these measures sufficient. The Cursillistas continue: “Then, to the great dismay of this Christian community, came the suspension of the Schools and Ultreyas; finally, the episcopal delegate prohibited the celebration of the Eucharist, considering it a collective act, and such acts have been suspended, we do not know until when.”
The most serious point is mentioned only in passing, at the end of the sentence: the Archdiocese of Burgos deemed it necessary to suspend all collective acts of the Cursillo movement.
Understandably, the group of “some Cursillistas” does not accept being governed with such firm authority. After stating that “there was great confusion among the Cursillistas when they felt they were being manipulated in this way,” they exclaim: “Is the people of God not taken into account when these decisions are made? When will we begin to live the post-conciliar Church, or is this a privilege of some dioceses?”
The letter concludes rudely by insinuating that the Archbishop of Burgos and the traditionalist movement supporting him may have adopted these measures with the diabolical intention of doing evil for evil’s sake. The letter’s authors write: “We are living in very bitter times. I see disappointment, abandonment, and crises of conscience, even of faith. ‘I will strike the Shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ Is this what was intended? I suppose not. However, in this case, is it conceivable that the consequences were not foreseen? Why deny us, and to what end, the freedom of assembly to which we are entitled as Christians?”
As can be seen, the letter writers only “assume” that there is no intention to crush them spiritually. Therefore, they consider it logically admissible that such an intention exists, for an assumption is always conditional and implicitly admits the opposite hypothesis, albeit with less probability!
Before proceeding to the next comment, I would like to make a brief observation. One of the phrases I just quoted reads: “I see disappointment, etc.” The verb “see” is in the first person singular. But then, did only one Cursillista write the letter, signing it “some Cursillistas”? Why this maneuvering in the murky zone of anonymity?
But the most important observation follows.
I draw my readers’ attention to a singular peculiarity in the argumentation of these individuals, following a series of lamentations intended to elicit the compassion of Vida Nueva readers and to implicitly present the Archbishop of Burgos and his supporters as reactionary inquisitors in the most pejorative sense that anticlericalism has given to this term. As we have seen, the letter concluded with a serious accusation against the prelate, the most severe that can be made: a shepherd who slaughters his sheep.
However, in its lengthy and verbose argument, the letter omitted the essential point.
Every person who is unjustly accused must inform themselves of the content of the accusation and demonstrate that it is unsupported by evidence; otherwise, it is idle talk.
In this particular case, the archbishop appears to consider Cursillos seriously infiltrated with errors. He is either right or wrong. If he is right, those who have been won over to the Church by the famous impact of Cursillos should submit themselves filially, rather than harboring strange and reprehensible doubts about the Faith. If the prelate is wrong, they have the sacred right to legitimate self-defense. But in that case, they are absolutely obliged to clarify to the public the accusations they have been victims of and to make clear that such accusations lack evidence.
This is precisely what these Cursillistas have loudly avoided doing. They must have their reasons for acting in such a singular manner.
The fact is that in this sample of Cursillista apologetics, we observe three characteristics:
a) panic about discussing the merits of the subject;
b) efforts to win public opinion by portraying the Cursillo movement as a victim;
c) arbitrary and defamatory counteroffensive directed at those who dare to point out the movement’s errors.
* * *
In Brazil, the counteroffensive by pro-Cursillistas has had precisely the same characteristics:
a) It carefully avoids refuting the documents cited by Bishop Antônio de Castro Mayer in his pastoral letter.
b) It portrays the movement as unjustly persecuted by the Bishop of Campos.
c) And it implicitly casts him as a warmonger of orthodoxy, ready at any moment to mistake a cloud for Juno.
I say this is the attitude of pro-Cursillistas because the Cursillistas themselves have been so cautious that they have said almost nothing about the matter. At least that is what has happened until this Thursday afternoon, when I am finishing my article.
Young TFP volunteers on caravans in the country’s interior are struck by the lack of argumentation from Cursillistas. Sometimes our volunteers hear only a threat in the form of a refrain: “You will regret it.”
Is this threat a bluff or merely an outburst of bad temper? Or perhaps it is a reference to some counter-campaign targeting the TFP through already worn-out media uproars?
