Monday, July 27, 2026

 

LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY: A HEALTHY ATHEISM 


One of the many challenges of Christian theology is that of contending with atheism.  Theology, as a branch of religion, engages in the task of not only "proving" the existence of God, but also putting those "proofs" into systematic form. 


The major issue with the theological task relative to this, is that within religion and theology themselves, there are so many different and varying  expressions.  In certain Christian sub- communities, there is a tendency to claim their particular expression of the faith as the "one and only valid" expression.


We find the same phenomenon in Latin American Liberation Theology.  Though the common thread is oppression as the starting point for biblical interpretation and theological reflection, we also find variation within this particular theological modality.  As I have mentioned before, Latin American Liberation Theology is not monolithic by any stretch of the imagination.


One particular Liberation theologian who brings in a unique element is Antonio Perez-Esclarin. Perez-Esclarin was a native of Venezuela.  He taught for several years at a university in Caracas, and later left his academic post to live with the oppressed (Ferm, op. cit., p. 126)


Perez-Esclarin sees the chief contribution of Latin American Liberation Theology in the fresh meaning it gives to the conception of God as liberator (Ibid.).  


With other liberation theologians, he contends that idolatry is worse than atheism.  He explores this theme in his book "Atheism and Liberation (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1978).  


Of the idolatrous God in which oppressors believe, Perez-Esclarin writes:  "It is the God of the white conqueror, the God who expects submission from those who are enslaved...the God of the colonizers who denies humanity and equality to be colonized (Atheism, pp. 57-58)." 


Perez-Esclarin believed that it was better to be an atheist than to believe in that kind of God.  He contends that the true God's incarnation in Jesus gives us a living embodiment of the concrete meaning of liberation. He develops this point in his modern parable of Jesus of Gramoven. In this narrative, he relates the story of Jesus Rodriguez, a resident of the slums of Caracas, through the course of Holy Week.  In the end he is kidnapped as a "communist activist, and disappears from history (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1980). 


So here we are faced with an interesting question.  Is it better to believe in a God who is the construction of people who believe in racial supremacy, or is it better to be an atheist?  Perez-Esclarin is more inclined towards the latter.  


As a Liberation theologian of Afro-Puerto Rican background, I tend to resonate with Perez-Esclarin.  I believe that it is more honest to deny the existence of such a deity than to affirm it.  Idolatrous Gods only exist in the minds of those who construct them and concoct a theology surrounding them.  I believe that an honest atheism clears the way for a belief in God than does belief in an idolatrous God.  


If in connection and resonance with the Scriptures of the Judeo-Christian traditions we affirm that God created humankind in the divine image, then we can avoid the idiosyncrasies and traps of having humans create God in their image.  If in connection and resonance with Latin American Liberation Theology, we affirm that this Creator and creating God has revealed Godself throughout history in a variety of ways, and uniquely through Jesus of Nazareth, and that God has been revealed as being in solidarity with the oppressed and suffering of this world, then we clear the path for humankind to come to faith in a healthy way with that God.  Healthy atheism, more so than idolatry, helps us to encounter the liberating God.


In the Name of the Creator, and of the Liberator, and of the Sustainer.  Amen.  


Rev. Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Reformed Church in America 

Past Visiting Professor of Latin American Liberation Theology 

Tainan Theological College/Seminary 

Monday, July 20, 2026

                                 LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY 

                                 FROM PACIFISM TO ARMED STRUGGLE 


Many people who aren't familiar with Liberation Theology tend to defame and mischaracterize it.  This appears to be an easier approach than to become familiar with the literature in the field and to go into deep analysis.  The tendency is to dismiss it as "Revolutionary theology," or "Marxism in disguise."  They believe that it is a mask for those who want to "rebel" against the established authorities by resorting to armed struggle and violence.


The theologian that we are going to talk about next, took action that confirms this mischaracterization.  His initial theological approach was one of pacifism, non-violent passive resistance, akin to that of the late Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King. 


Ernesto Cardenal is a splendid example of the poet become politician.  Minister of culture in the revolutionary government of Nicaragua, he previously ministered to the community of Solentiname, a group of about two thousand persons in a remote archipelago, on Lake Nicaragua.  There he and the community engaged in a continuing series of dialogues that related the Gospel lesson of the daily Mass to their everyday lives.  Over a hundred of these dialogues, taking place over a period of ten years, have been published in the four-volume series "The Gospel in Solentiname."  This "people's church" is the very stuff out of which Liberation Theology has emerged (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1982), 


When the Solentiname community was destroyed by the Nicaraguan National Guard in the late 1970's, Cardenal gradually renounced his pacifism, which had been nurtured by Thomas Merton at the Gethsemane Trappist monastery in Kentucky years earlier.  He cast his lot with the revolutionaries seeking to overthrow the dictatorial Somoza government.  When the Sandinistas succeeded in their struggle, the poet became the politician  and remained very much involved in the Nicaraguan struggle for social justice.  He did look forward, however, to the day when the poet in him could return to the Solentiname community (Teofilo Cabestrero, Ministers of God, Ministers of the People.  Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1983, pp. 13-43. ).  


The above-described historical scenario, raises of course, some ethical questions.  The first question is whether Cardenal should have continued to follow in the footsteps of Martin Luther King's approach to social change, i.e. non-violent passive resistance.  The second question is whether he should have, instead followed, as he eventually did, in the footsteps of Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his participation in the attempt to assassinate Adolf Hitler, and in the footsteps of Karl Barth, being part of the Confessing Church, which through its Barmen Declaration, decried the government of Hitler.  


There are those in the U.S.A. who might criticize Cardenal for the transition that he eventually made to armed resistance and struggle.  In the process of leveling this criticism against him, they appear to forget that the U.S.A. as a nation-state, was conceived in violence, the violence that was imposed on the citizens of the First Nations, the violence that was imposed on those who were brought to these shores through the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, and the violence that the people living in the colonies resorted to against England in order to be liberated from English imperialism.  


Is Latin American Liberation Theology in and of itself a revolutionary theology?  I would say that the answer to that is an absolute "yes" in that it promotes a social change that will result in "liberty and justice for all."


Does Latin American Liberation Theology advocate for and promote armed struggle as a means of resistance and revolution.  The answer to that is "it depends" on which particular theologian of liberation one is talking about.  Liberation Theology is not monolithic by any stretch of the imagination.  There is as much diversity in Liberation Theology as there is in any other theological current.  


This article is submitted in the Name of the Creator, and of the Liberator, and of the Sustainer. Amen.


Rev. Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Past Visiting Professor of Latin American Liberation Theology 

Tainan Theological College/Seminary 



Tuesday, July 14, 2026

 

                           ADDITIONAL LIBERATION THEOLOGIANS 


Up until now, we have examined the theological thrusts of some Liberation theologians.  And, since, as I have pointed out both in my doctoral dissertation (The Liberation of Puerto Rico: A Theological Perspective) and in previous posts, that Liberation Theology is not monolithic by any stretch of the imagination, but that rather, there is as much diversity in it as there is in other theological currents, I will proceed to make mention of other Liberation theologians.  


The Latin American liberation theologians whom we have covered thus far can all be considered major figures.  But others could just as well be included in this category.  The intention in this section is to highlight the thinking of certain individuals whose writings are not only influential, but also representative of the rich diversity of Latin American Liberation Theology (Ferm, op. cit., p. 47). 

Segundo Galilea makes a strong case for theological pluralism.  A native of Chile, he lived for many years in Medellin, Columbia, where he directed the pastoral institute sponsored by the Latin American Episcopal Council (CELAM). He also served as a pastor in Santiago Chile (Ibid., p. 126).


He notes that, although Latin American Liberation theologians agree on the undeniable sinful facts of underdevelopment, oppression, and injustice that pervade Latin America, they disagree on nearly everything else.  Galilea is particularly sensitive to the charge that Marxism and blatant politicism are necessary ingredients of Liberation Theology.  He insists that no serious Liberation theologian is guilty of such a charge: every one of them makes evangelization, not politics, the starting point of theology. But, of course, those who evangelize must be sensitive to the cultural context; one does not evangelize in a vacuum. Authentic evangelization must be cognizant of the popular religion and cultural identity of those whom they want to help  achieve liberation.  In the past, mission work has too often included the imposition of cultural baggage.  For example, most of the early missionaries linked their faith with their Iberian culture; theirs was a "church made from the top down."  But if this process can be reversed, Galilea believes that more and more Latin Americans will choose to identify with the Church, and in this process of social and political transformation, the Church will also change ((Ibid., p. 48).  


This,  of course, raises the question as to whether we can in all honesty make a dichotomy between evangelization and politics.  If evangelization is defined as a message which focuses on "the life hereafter," then politics will become either subordinate or non-relevant to theology.  On the other hand, if evangelization is a message of the "Reign of God in Christ," then it definitely carries political implications, i.e. divine politics vs. human politics. 


In addition, if oppression and suffering are the "starting points" of biblical theology, as they obviously are in the book of Exodus, and in the Gospel accounts, we cannot evade or forego politics per se.  If we take seriously what God said, i.e. " I have heard the cry of my people," we cannot engage in a model of evangelization that is abstract, theoretical, or immune to the existential human conditions.  If evangelization operates in these modes, then it is simply a "feel good" type of message that is not concretized in history.  In Scripture and in the traditions of the Church, God's liberating and salvific acts are always historicized.   If evangelization is not historicized, then it is a clown show.  


Following Gustavo Gutierrez, Jose Comblin, and others, Galilea points to the need for a "liberation spirituality," a theme that he develops in his book Following Jesus (Maryknoll, Orbis Books, 1981). Here he argues that authentic liberation must unite the mystic with the militant, the contemplative with the politician. For Galilea, true contemplation does not mean withdrawing from the world of actions. For him, quite the opposite is true.  It means experiencing the presence of God as we encounter our neighbor in the world of action.  To be sure, there is always the risk of politicizing the Gospel as we seek for God in the here and now, but this danger must never keep us from affirming the political dimension of the Gospel.  The continuing challenge for Christians is to avoid two extremes: an introverted Christ devoid of socio-political  involvement and a revolutionary Christ engaged exclusively in political agitation.  Galilea makes an important contribution to Liberation Theology in his view of Jesus who, though not advocating a specific political program, did insist that the Gospel has profound social and political implications for the lives of the poor (Ferm, op. cit. p. 48).  


En fin, we can say that Galilea's view of the Gospel is not one of navel-gazing or contemplating the moon.  It is not a message which is insensitive or oblivious to the human condition.  Neither is it one which requires us to "look the other way."  The message of the Gospel, in Galilea's point of view, requires us to stop "on our way to church," to be the Good Samaritan and help bind up the wounds of the victim of abuse, robbery, and oppression.  


In the Name of the Creator, and of the Liberator, and of the Sustainer. Amen. 


Rev. Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Past Visiting Professor of Latin American Theology 

Tainan Theological College/Seminary 



Monday, July 6, 2026

                          LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY 


DO WE REALLY DRINK FROM OUR OWN WELLS?  


ENRIQUE DUSSEL 


One of the issues of examining Latin American theology, or for that matter, any theology which emerges from the so-called "Third World" is raising the question of comparison and validation.  How  does Third World theology compare to and differ from classical Western theology?  

A related question would be if Third World theology, more so than Western theology, seeks to "recapture" the essence of the faith of early Christianity or is it a deviation?  After many centuries of the incrustation of Western theology in the Church, it is second-hand nature to believe that anything that comes from Euro-America is "universally valid in all times and in all places."  

Let us now turn our attention to Enrique Dussel.  Dussel has made his mark primarily as a church historian.  Born in Argentina, Dussel received his licentiate in philosophy from the University of Mendoza in Argentina, his Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Madrid, a doctorate in history from the Sorbonne, and a licentiate in theology from the Catholic Institute in Paris.  For several years he taught at Cuzo University in Mendoza until his activities on  behalf of liberation forced him out of that post.  He also taught in the University of Mexico City (Ferm, op. cit. p. 126).


Dussel served as President of the Commission on the Study of the History of the Church in Latin America. Dussel's major study is A History of the Church in Latin America: Colonialism to Liberation. Jose Miguez Bonino refers to this book as "the best conceived and realized one-volume history of the Church in Latin America (A History, back cover).


In his writings, Dussel comes across more as an interpreter and synthesizer of the main features of Latin American theology than as an original thinker.  For example, he is critical of the European "Theology of Hope" for its failure to seriously take into account indigenous economic and political factors.  In so doing it "has disemboweled hope and  even turned it into opium (Dussel, Ethics and the Theology of Liberation. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1978, p. 62).

He favors socialism over capitalism, but a socialism that need not be Marxist.  For Dussel, the original sin in Latin America has been colonial domination based on capitalism.  But he faults Marxism for its failure to affirm the Other, which leaves it with a closed system lacking a transcendent reference with which to critique itself.  Dussel agrees with Miguez Bonino in preferring the term "people" to "class" in describing the oppressed.  Although the term "people" is admittedly ambiguous, it does go beyond class distinction to encompass grassroots communities in their political, economic, and cultural dimensions, a people who must play a leading role in its own liberation (Enrique Dussel is one of the first Latin American Liberation theologians to openly abjure ecclesiastical discrimination against women.  He writes: We feel confident that in the future we will see women priests, women bishops, and some day-and why not?-a woman pope. There is no theological or genetic objection: the woman is a human person (Ethics, p. 113).


Dussel also argues that we must recover the analogical dimension of Catholic theology. According to Dussel, the problem with traditional theology is that it universalized a particular European theology and abstractly superimposed it on Latin America, Africa, and Asia.  Dussel argues that the Third World must be free to develop its own distinctive methodologies and theologies, while participating analogically in Christ's universal church.  Dussel believes that the universalization of the particular is idolatrous, for it amounts to a denial of the Other.  Acceptance of the Other relativizes all particular systems. To be sure, theology must be historically grounded, but we must beware of absolutizing the finite, whether it be in Europe or Latin America.  Analogically speaking, only the Other can be absolutized; in this sense Dussel can insist that there is one theology (Ferm, op. cit. p. 46).


But Christians must also be "atheists of the fetish"-that is, they must be critical of human systems (In Torres and Eagleton, Theology in the Americas, p. 290).

For Dussel, the only authentic criterion for judging whether we are truly on the side of God is whether "we struggle unto death for the poor.  That is an objective concrete Christological criticism: 'I was hungry; you gave me to eat.'" (Ferm, op. cit., p. 47). 


Like so many of his Latin American colleagues, Dussel points to idolatry as a critical problem for Christians: believing in false gods only lulls one into somnolent complacency and an acceptance of the status quo. For Dussel and his colleagues today, the only way to escape from idolatry is to show a preference for the liberation of the poor.  To put it another way, the death of God means in reality "the death of the other human being. (Ibid.)"

Atheism in itself is not the problem; for when one claims to be an atheist, the question should be asked, Atheism with respect to what conceptualization of God? Chances are that the answer to that question would reveal many Christian atheists among the poor and oppressed (Ibid.). 

With respect to the reign of God, Dussel uses the terms "not yet" and "already" to indicate that in Jesus the reign has in one sense already come, but in another sense is "not yet'" until the poor become liberated humanizing beings: If there were no poor, then either we would be "already" in a reign without  any not "not yet" or would be in an idolatrous reign of this world ("The Kingdom of God and the Poor," International Review of Missions, April 1979, p. 115). 

In his deep sensitivity to the plight of the poor, Enrique Dussel reveals his principal concern, a concern that is in no way compromised by his scholarly skills as a historian (Ferm, op. cit, p. 47). 


En fin, what we find in this article, is that Dussel, like his other Liberation counterparts, pursues the ongoing integration between the theoretical dimensions of theology with the existential reality of those for whom theology seeks to speak.  For Dussel, the dichotomy between physical and spiritual is totally a false one.  We also find that he does not place theology and social action in a sequential pattern.  For him social action and theology go hand in hand.

In the Name of the Creator, and of the Liberator, and of the Sustainer.

Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Past Visiting Professor of Theology 

Tainan Theological College/Seminary 





Monday, June 29, 2026

 


LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY

JOSE COMBLIN 


How does theology, if at all, line up with social activism?  There are those that believe that one has nothing to do with the other and that "never the twain shall meet."  


A common characteristic of Latin American theologians is their effort to combine political activism with a deep concern for the devotional life.  A splendid example is Jose Comblin (Ferm, op. cit. p. 44). 


Born in Belgium, Jose Comblin has a doctorate in theology from the University of Louvain.  Since 1958, he  lived in Latin America.  For several years he was a member of the faculty at the Theological Institute in Recife, Brazil, until his expulsion from Brazil in 1972.  He had divided his teaching duties between the University of Chile (Talca) and the Catholic University of Louvain (Ibid., p. 126).


The author of over 27 books, Comblin assumes the role of acute political analyst in his "The Church and the National Security State (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1979).  


In this study he defends the role of the church as a political agent in support of the underprivileged and their determination to build a just society.  Tracing the various historical stages of the colonial/neocolonial systems that have held Latin America in servitude-the Spanish, Portuguese, the British, and the North American (USA)-Comblin finds the last one, epitomized by the Pentagon and the Central Intelligence Agency, the most violent.  According to Comblin, these agencies have spared no effort in perpetuating military dictatorships, consolidating financial interests,  and inhibiting human rights under the guise of an unbridled war against communism.  Comblin points out that the militancy of many Latin American liberation theologians derives from the experience of the ruthlessness of the support that the CIA and the Pentagon lend to oppressive social structures (Ferm, op. cit., p 45).


Comblin acknowledges the value of Marxist analysis in bolstering the efforts of the underprivigled to achieve justice.  But at the same time he does not hesitate to condemn the Marxist practice in which the political seeks power at the expense of the individual (Ibid.).


Comblin says, "In Marxist revolution there is no freedom for the people, only for the party.  The same science that expels freedom from history and revolution expels God from humankind and history.  The party is supposed to be sufficient to create a new world, but it ends up by creating a new power (National State Security p. 220)." 


Here are confronted with two questions? Is Comblin defending Marxist ideology and at the same time condemning its praxis?  Does Comblin believe that Marxism is contrary to the Gospel or inherent with its basic message?  


In order to determine where Comblin stands at. one would have to read his. books. One cannot "judge a book by its cover," make a determination as towhere he stands without having thoroughly read the literature in the field.  There are those who will read and take what Comblin says out of the socio-economic context in which he wrote his books, and then, unfortunately arrive at misinterpretations of what he really saying.  


Comblin believes it incumbent upon theologians to develop a theology of revolution that will take into account the deepest longings of human existence in the building of a just and free society in which everyone has a responsibility in the shaping of a new people ((Ferm, op. cit. p. 45).

Like all other Latin American liberation theologians, Comblin sees the base ecclesial communities as the seed bed for a theology of revolution.  But he does not advocate violence.  No liberation theologian prefers violence, he argues but there are times when one faces the unavoidable situation of choosing between no action, which condones the violence of the oppressors, and action that may risk fomenting violence (Ibid.).  


What is Comblin's view on salvation (redemption) as to whether it is "this worldly and political," or "otherworldly and non-political?


He says that it is political because we live enslaved to oppressive structures from which we must free ourselves in order to establish justice.  It is mystical because this effort would turn into another form of oppression if it were not motivated and suffused with, human, freedom, and love (The Meaning of Mission, p. 60).


What we've seen so far, is that Comblin's theological perspective is but another example of theological diversity among Latin American theologians.  Comblin's great achievement remains his twin commitments to revolutionary praxis and the devotional life (Ibid., p. 46)


In closing, I would say that Comblin's theological perspective challenges us to grapple with the question of violence and the "proper" approach to constructive social change.  The major issue in his writings is that he does not advocate for a passive "do nothing" attitude among Christians.  He is, in essence, a man of action.


In the Name of the Creator, and of the Liberator, and of the Sustainer. Amen.


Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Past Visiting Professor of Theology 

Tainan Theological College/Seminary