Laura Díaz Barco, CMS
In my years of theological reflection on mission, I keep returning to a profound question: What makes our commitment to integral development distinctly Christian? What is that “specific ingredient,” as Pope Benedict XVI called it, that renders our service unique and indispensable?
The answer lies not in our programs or methodologies, but in something far more fundamental—our capacity to offer what Benedict described as “the look of love which they crave.” This look transforms our work from mere social service to authentic evangelization, from external assistance to interior transformation.
Learning from the Margins
Three Gospel encounters have shaped my understanding of this sacred dimension of mission: the bent woman (Luke 13:10-17), the woman with the issue of blood, and Jairus’ daughter (Luke 8:40-56). These narratives feature women on the peripheries of existence—exactly where Jesus chose to reveal the deepest mysteries of healing and liberation.
Each story unfolds a similar pattern: physical ailment leads to social exclusion, which in turn creates spiritual bondage. The bent woman cannot lift her eyes to heaven. The bleeding woman cannot touch or be touched without rendering others ritually impure. Jairus’ daughter lies at death’s threshold just as she should be entering the fullness of life. All three exist in spaces of profound isolation.
The Divine Passive
What strikes me most about these accounts is how Luke describes the healing using what scholars call the “divine passive”—grammatical forms that indicate God’s agency rather than human effort. “You are set free from your ailment,” Jesus declares to the bent woman. The healing flows from divine compassion, not human technique.
This challenges our missionary approach profoundly. We often assume that our skills, resources, or programs are the primary agents of transformation. Yet these Gospel accounts suggest something different: we are called to create spaces where God’s healing power can operate, not to be the healers ourselves.
The Interconnected Triad
The genius of these narratives lies in their revelation of how healing, wholeness, and holiness interweave seamlessly. Physical restoration leads to social reintegration, which opens pathways to spiritual encounter. The bent woman “glorifies God.” The bleeding woman is called “daughter.” Jairus’ daughter is summoned back to fullness of life.
This interconnection illuminates what Pope Paul VI meant when he wrote that evangelization means “transforming humanity from within and making it new.” True integral development cannot separate physical needs from spiritual longings, social justice from personal holiness, human dignity from divine relationship.
The Space of Transformation
What Jesus creates in each encounter is what I call a “space of transformation”—a liminal place where the impossible becomes possible. He meets each woman exactly where she is, neither patronizing nor ignoring their circumstances, but creating conditions for authentic encounter with the divine.
This speaks directly to our missionary vocation. Our role is not to “fix” people or impose solutions, but to create these sacred spaces where healing can occur. Sometimes this happens through education, healthcare, or economic development. Other times through presence, listening, or simple solidarity with suffering.
The Mystical Dimension
There’s a deeper current flowing through these healing narratives—the movement from self-centeredness to other-centeredness that mystics call “mystical death.” Physical ailments naturally turn us inward. The bent woman can only see her own shadow. The bleeding woman obsesses over her condition. Both are trapped in cycles of self-focus.
Healing liberates them to look outward, upward, toward God and neighbor. This parallels Teresa of Avila’s image of the caterpillar becoming a butterfly—a death that births new life. True integral development must facilitate this interior transformation, this birth into transcendence.
The Look of Love
Pope Francis reminds us that “even people who can be considered dubious on account of their errors have something to offer which must not be overlooked.” This perspective requires what I call evangelical humility—the recognition that every encounter changes us too.
Notice how Jesus is affected by these meetings. He senses power flowing from his body when the bleeding woman touches him. He engages in theological debate with the synagogue leaders after healing the bent woman. The healer is also transformed by healing.
Our Missionary Calling
This understanding reshapes how we approach integral development. Our projects and programs matter, but they are vehicles for something more profound: creating opportunities for transcendent encounter. Whether we’re building schools, providing healthcare, or advocating for justice, our deepest calling is to awaken in every person “the desire for transcendence—a longing for God and for a better world.”
The challenge is maintaining this spiritual dimension without imposing our faith on others. Like Jesus, we must create spaces where people can encounter the divine within their own cultural and religious contexts, respecting their dignity while offering the transformative power of love.
Learning from History
Post-Holocaust feminist Jewish theologians have developed profound insights about the theology of care through studying acts of solidarity among women in ghettos and concentration camps. Melissa Raphael argues that relationships of mutual care anticipate God’s eschatological shalom of transformed relationships.
Their reflection centers on Shekhinah, the feminine aspect of God who dwells with her people in exile, caring for them. Women in Auschwitz, through their acts of solidarity and mutual care (hessed) at the expense of their own lives, invited Shekhinah into an otherwise God-voided world.
Their caring for one another allowed them to resist the profanation of their personhood and increased their chances of survival. “Women’s holding, pulling and pushing the other from death back into the slender possibility of life were means of carrying God into Auschwitz under a torn shelter.”
The Sacramental Nature of Ministry
Our way of being in the world has the potential of making God present to others and is, therefore, proclamation in itself. Acknowledging the sacredness of our ministries—their sacramental value—might free us from the constant concern of not “doing enough pastoral work” or not being “sufficiently pastoral.”
Our social commitment to making this world a home for everyone and restoring broken relationships, as continuation of Jesus’ own ministry, becomes the space where those we encounter daily experience the divine.
A Call to Transformation
The bent woman teaches us that true development straightens more than spines—it restores human dignity. The bleeding woman shows us that healing touches more than bodies—it rebuilds relationships. Jairus’ daughter reveals that resurrection is not just about the afterlife—it’s about fullness of life here and now.
In a world where development work often becomes purely technical or political, these Gospel encounters remind us that authentic transformation always involves the mystery of divine love breaking into human suffering. Our task is to prepare the way, create the space, and offer the look of love that makes such encounters possible.
As Comboni missionaries, we are called to be instruments of this sacred touch—not through our own power, but by creating spaces where God’s healing presence can transform lives from within. This is the heart of our mission: to touch the world with the same compassionate love that Jesus offered to every wounded person he encountered.