It is June 24, 1524. Hernan Cortes kneels before twelve ragged and barefooted men, and kisses the soiled, frayed hem of the habit of their leader, Martin de Valencia. At that moment the Spiritual Conquest of Mexico began.
The twelve exhausted Franciscan missionaries, who had just walked from Veracruz to the new capital of New Spain (being built on the ruins the former capital of the Aztec empire) were stunned. And the Mejica members of the large retinue accompanying Cortes were astonished to see, the great captain, the conqueror of all Mexico, humbling himself before a band of haggard, bearded men whose bare feet were bleeding, whose clothes were torn.
All along their long (nearly 300 mile) route from the Veracruz, they were called “motolinias” — “the poor ones,” “the unfortunates ones” — by Nahuatl-speaking natives. It was a name that the twelve Franciscans embraced, for these “servants of God” were ascetic, humble and cloistered — and exceptionally energetic and initutive. One of them, Toribio de Benavente adopted motolinia as his last name.
The first group of missionaries sent to Cortes disappointed him. They were Flemish Franciscans headed by a bastard son of the Spanish king. The Spanish disliked Nordics almost as much as the Moors. But Cortes diplomatically did not reject them; he sent them off to Texcoco and asked the king for something better. He was pleased with the second group, which was quickly known as The Twelve, echoing the Twelve Apostles.
Their leader De Valencia as a boy entered the well-thought-of Franciscan Third Order in the Spanish province of Santiago. He became a savvy supervisor and a good organizer, having founded six religious houses in Spain, one of which was the Custody of San Gabriel, an organization that attracted papal praise in 1516, and prompted his visit to Rome. This resulted in his assignment to lead The Twelve to help create a spiritual New Spain.Almost every history of Mexico extols the deeds of the early missionaries in New Spain. Yet their assignment — the spiritual conquest of a land getting used its a name, New Spain, was crowded with challenges. These became examples of how the colonial experience impacted and changed European practice and understanding of the application of Christianity to a totally inconceivable society. “How were the spiritualities of the friars affected by the missionary work in an often ‘unimaginable’ culture that, for them, had an odd name, finally assigned by the Spanish throne, but often reduced to simply ‘Mexico’,” wrote one historian.
But conventional history has had a hard time accounting for some difficult facts. For example: Fray Juan de Ribas, one of the original Twelve, and a “founding pillar” of the Church in New Spain, eventually fled with eleven others into the “wilderness” to escape the demands of building that Church. This dramatically pointed to the confusion and disillusionment of a number of new missionaries, who soon followed the much heralded “Twelve.”
The accounting for this surprising disenchantment with their religious “vocation,” the degree that they sought to escape their “glorious path,” has fallen to a number of little noted contemporary chroniclers and recent historians, who point to several historically ignored factors. Their fundamental thesis is that the “predominant spirituality” of these early missionaries was incompatible with their assigned missionary duty. Yet it’s difficult to explain such deep disenchantment on the part of committed missionaries.
Nonetheless, Fray Jeronimo de Mendieto, who had returned to Spain theoretically for a brief visit, wrote his superior that the “only way he would return to the missionary field would be if God himself dragged him by the hair.” These were deeply religious men who had “received their training in a highly ascetic, contemplative and primarily cloistered spiritual tradition.” They had chosen, or had been chosen, to step into the physical and human ruins of the undreamed-of cultural, religious, linguistic and demographic aftermath of the brutal slaughter and destruction of a triumphant conquest — harsh and bitter ground in which to try to plant their faith. Nothing had prepared them for an the human and material wreckage created by the much-glorified conquistadores.
And historians tend to continue that course. There is little research illustrating this incompatibility, the depleting degree of frustration and conflict and bafflement assaulting such friars as they sought a balance between their spiritual tradition and the demanding task to which they had committed themselves. There is little in conventional, or popular history texts about the desertions in the ranks of such missionaries.
One of the most significant problems for the missionaries was the fact that the Indians to whom they were supposed to be teaching Catholic beliefs has been described by famed cultural analyst and poet, Nobel Laureate, Octavio Paz: The conquest was seen by the Aztecs as a “divine desertion....” “One part of the Aztec people lost heart and sought out the invader. The other, betrayed on all sides and without hope of salvation, chose death. The mere presence of the Spaniards caused a discontinuity in Aztec society....”
The other problem, was the Franciscans’ fellow Spaniards, who seemed to thrive in the post-conquest chaos. Even their fellow Franciscan, a member of The Twelve, Fray Torbidio de Benavente Motolinia was declaring that the number of baptized Indians reached the millions. In 1536, for instance, he declared that the number of baptized was five million. But no one knew. (Just as they didn’t know the population of the Mexico, they didn’t know the population of the Aztec race, or the number of Nauatl speakers.) Besides, the missionaries were baptizing Indians without employing traditional Catholic baptism rites, but gathering as many as possible together, saying the appropriate prayers, most often in Spanish, and declaring “You are all now named Juan and Juana” (whatever saint’s it was), and throwing buckets of water on the catechumens.
Another problem was the Spanish mistreatment of the Indians. A Franciscan friar, Juan de Zumarraga, who would become the first archbishop of Mexico City, was sent by Spain’s King Carlos V, as the unconsecrated first bishop of Mexico, and named Protector of the Indians. But, because he wasn’t yet consecrated, he had no power, and the former conquistadores ignored his authority. Carlos also had failed to define the extent of his jurisdiction or specify his duties as Protector. The Spaniards were enslaving all the Indians they wanted. They tortured, raped, cut off limbs and killed millions during this period.
Zumarraga soon counted himself among the disillusioned Franciscans. He prayed both for help and, if that was not possible, divine intervention to give strength for his pleas to the king to please find someone else to do his job so that he could go home. In his last years, he mourned his calling to the mission field.
Zumarraga’s efforts to fulfill his duties had made many enemies among his fellow Spaniards who were abusing the Indians, and violating the king’s laws. At the same time, they were attacking Cortes. The conquerer of New Spain returned to Spain, where he was enthusiastically received by the Spanish people and the Spanish court. When Cortes returned he had been named by the king Captain General of New Spain.
Zumarraga set sail May 1532, now at the order of King Carlos to defend himself against the calumnies. Zumarraga easily vindicated himself against his enemies, whose lies were soon revealed. Zumarraga was consecrated bishop, and set to work obtain royal concessions for the Indians.
During this time, Martin de Valencia, as apostolic delegate, had presided over the efforts of his Franciscan brothers. He also presided over the first ecclesiastical synod in the New World, July 2, 1524. He also established the Custody of the Holy Gospel, of which he was elected, and re-elected the first custos. The venerable Franciscan evangelist and author died August 31, 1534, on the wharf at Ayatzingo. He was buried in a humble wood coffin in the center of the convent of Tlalmanco in what today is the state of Mexico.