By Luis Felipe Rodríguez
Fray Juan de San Miguel arrived in New Spain (now Mexico), from Spain in 1529 when it offered nothing but hard work and sorrow. There was little food and shelter; missions with solid walls were just being built, and everything was temporary and miserable. The friars begged for their food in the markets, and sometimes fainted from hunger while preaching. “They didn’t have the strength to stay on their feet,” wrote Fray Diego de Almagro. “He fell from sheer weakness,” said Zumárraga of Fray Antonio de Ciudad Rodrigo. Although the work was very hard, they were adamant about staying.
In 1531, Fray Juan was sent to Michoacán, a paradise where men had lost treasures and joy, where the old gods mourned the destruction of their reign over men’s souls, their palaces that overlooked blue waters, their verdant forests and virgin lands whose flowery paths led to the sea. The men no longer danced in front of the reflective lake, nor did they extract gold from the mountains or paint their marvelous pottery with animal blood and plant juice. The Purépecha people were in mourning when young Fray Juan made his appearance in the Guayangareo valley.
Fray Antonio de Lisboa, a close acquaintance who also knew what poverty was, accompanied him. Together they discovered this new world, whose languages, customs, and landscape were new. They were not, the first apostles of Christ to visit that valley of oaks and cedars. Fray Martín de Jesús and his companions had preceded them, but their stay had been fleeting and the seed of the Gospel had not flourished. Fray Juan and Fray Antonio had to plow a new furrow in souls of the Purépecha.
Fray Juan’s friendship with the Indians began with hand signs. Little by little, he learned their language, and when he was able to make himself understood, he founded a school that he called San Miguel in honor of the archangel, his powerful patron saint. It was hard work to convince the Indians of his good will, as they were still terrified by the atrocities of Nuño de Guzmán, the most brutal of the conquistadors.
While teaching the children and the elderly of Guayangareo to read and write in Spanish, Fray Antonio built the mission of San Francisco with branches, mud, and stones. The most prominent decoration was wild flowers. Eventually the town became Valladolid, and then Morelia, and the Colegio de San Miguel was later incorporated into the Colegio de San Nicolás and then the University of Michoacán.
With a staff and a handful of corn, Fray Juan then set off for the Sierra de Uruapan. He was barefoot, without a guide. Indians gave him tortillas, water, and shelter in their huts. These former inhabitants of previously peaceful towns had taken refuge in caves in the mountains out of fear and horror at the martyrdom of King Tzintzicha at the hands of Nuño de Guzman.
After a long and painful journey, he reached the rough sierras. There, from a majestic mountain pulpit, he preached the peace of Christ in the melodious language of the Indians, and advocated their return to their villages. His tired, thin body was like a hymn to holy poverty.
Little by little, as St. Francis tamed the wolf, Fray Juan erased the hatred of the conquerors from the Indians. He brought them down from the caves to the valley, and with soft words he encouraged them to return to their abandoned villages. He consecrated each place to a saint, built a chapel for it, and instituted a festival. Under the eye of the illustrious Don Vasco de Quiroga, he introduced the Indians to artisanal work, taught them to make choir organs, rosaries, pinwheels and winches, cotton stockings and gloves, to carve stones for mills, and to play musical instruments.
Fray Juan spent all of 1532 resettling the Sierra de Uruapan. By December he appears to have received the order from Fray Martín de Valencia to appear with Fray Martín de Coruña in Mexico City, and from there go to the port of Tehuantepec, where, with six other Franciscans, he embarked on the ships of Hernán Cortés that were going to explore lands to the northwest to find a passage to the Atlantic and the spice islands.
Two of Cortés’ ships, the San Miguel and the San Marcos, ran aground while on reconnaissance. The San Lázaro and La Concepción were not ready by the beginning of 1533, despite Cortés’ orders. The ships finally set sail in October 1534, but on the third day there was a mutiny on board. Fray Juan and Fray Martín Coruña asked to be allowed to disembark at Cabo Motín (between Colima and Zacatula) with the wounded and care for them. From there they traveled to Mexico City and reported to Cortés.
To be continued…
