When Father Cesáreo asked me to write about the subject that introduces these lines, I felt — and still feel — that he had given me a difficult task. I have always believed that when the Gospel, with its quiet but powerful force, truly enters human life, it naturally gives it energy, direction, and fullness. This happens without the need for “agents of change” who complicate things, or for plans designed to build Christian structures where one may easily receive the label of Christian without being so in spirit or in truth.

This conviction is so deeply rooted in me that asking me to develop this topic feels almost like asking the head of a traffic accident unit to write a defense of automobile travel. Inevitably, his mind would be filled with the many deaths and injuries he has witnessed.

Having remained active in the Cursillos Movement since its beginnings in 1944 has allowed me to observe how — often with the best intentions — the spiritual energy generated during the three days of a Cursillo was redirected by those who considered themselves “agents of change” or “builders of society.” They attempted to channel the generous human potential awakened in participants toward repairing problems within their own ecclesial structures, sometimes without the genuine freedom or consent of the individuals involved.

This repeated and painful tendency has been one of the main reasons why the Cursillos Movement has not always produced the fruits that might be expected. People who experience a Cursillo — especially those with strong personality and authenticity — rarely allow themselves to be managed for the sake of institutional goals or personal agendas.

Those who come out of a Cursillo should not be manipulated or displaced. They must be allowed to mature where God has placed them. When this is respected, the joy discovered during the three days can continue to grow, supported by the proper means: the Group Reunion and the Ultreya. These environments help people deepen conviction, strengthen decisions, and sustain perseverance. Above all, they foster what is most essential: the encounter with oneself — the foundation that opens the way toward Christ and toward others, without falling into artificial mysticism or uncontrolled enthusiasm.

Where the movement has remained faithful to its essence, it does not need to search for “agents of change.” Such people emerge naturally from the living climate created by those who have encountered themselves, Christ, and others. The first encounter — with oneself — is the indispensable starting point for all the rest.

The persistent pressure placed on newcomers to immediately “change” or “build” within religious structures, instead of allowing them to grow within their own reality and environment, often leads them onto respectable but misplaced paths. These can distance people from themselves through paternalism, calm their real questions, and blur rather than clarify their horizons.

In ordinary human life, authentic religiosity convinces only when it springs from faith; morality when it comes from joyful conviction; and social or political engagement when it arises from genuine altruism. All of this must be embodied in real people who live it sincerely. When it is done out of obligation, it neither inspires nor attracts.

Structures created to promote religion, morality, or social action are fragile when more trust is placed in systems than in people. God works through persons — not to impose Christianity from outside, but to ferment it from within.

What often goes unrecognized is that the Gospel does not need to be “updated” through pastoral schemes; rather, it is the Gospel that renews us. And it renews people first, before structures. Everything authentic begins in the “Jerusalem within oneself,” where each person discovers the essential truth: that God, in Christ, loves them.

Whoever truly believes this gradually becomes light within their own environment — naturally, simply, and without pretension. Much can then change and be built in a genuine Christian way, as long as people are not uprooted from their reality or forced into artificial roles created by self-appointed “super-Christians.”

The Cursillos Movement does not need external strategies or planners. When Group Reunion and Ultreya are allowed to remain faithful to their purpose, they create the right climate for growth — one that respects spontaneity and helps people discover that with Christ at the center, their strengths grow and their difficulties lose power.

Today, there is increasingly little space for what is imposed by decree. Modern men and women long for authenticity and freedom — the freedom to be truthful. Christianity is less about someday giving an account and more about becoming aware, day by day, of the grace of God at work in one’s life. A person who becomes conscious of their gifts, uniqueness, and creativity can act personally and responsibly, rather than out of imposed guilt or external pressure.

From the beginning of the movement, this has been our lived conviction: the path from conviction to behavior is more effective than the reverse. Conviction inspires and spreads naturally; mere external behavior produces imitation, and imitation often reproduces not only virtues but also defects.

When this ideal reaches ordinary people — simple, real, human people — they understand that the encounter with oneself is the essential starting point for authenticity. From there, they discover their identity and learn to live from it, developing their human and spiritual qualities together.

Life constantly challenges each person to live in truth. As one grows in authenticity, one becomes better prepared to face discouragement, loneliness, and adversity.

For this reason, those of us who initiated Cursillos feel concern when the movement is driven by relentless promoters of change and construction. Even with good intentions, excessive regulations and innovations have often complicated what was meant to be simple. Renewal is necessary, but it must come from a deeper understanding of the movement’s essence and purpose — not from superficial reforms.

Changes that ignore this — altering the internal logic of the talks, removing key themes, imposing rigid rules about age or participation, or creating artificial formats — often reflect the mindset of planners rather than the spirit of the movement.

In the end, these efforts risk programming people instead of helping them discover the joyful truth that God loves them. And in Christian life, doing without first being almost always ends in undoing.

— Eduardo Bonnín