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 

Wednesday, June 24, 2026

                              

                                              LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY 

                                              JON SOBRINO 



There are other Latin American theologians of liberation that specialize in Christology. Jon Sobrino is one of them.


Jon Sobrino joins Leonardo Boff in making his major contribution  the development of a christology appropriate for the Latin American setting.  He was born in Spain, received a master's degree in engineering mechanics at St. Louis University in 1965 and a doctorate in theology from the Hochschule Sankt Georgen, Frankfurt, in 1975.  He has served as professor of philosophy and theology at the Universidad Jose Simeon Canas, San Salvador (Ferm, op. cit. p. 125).


In his Christology of the Crossroads: A Latin American Approach, Sobrino agrees with Boff in pointing to the close parallel between the contemporary Latin American setting and the historical context in which Jesus lived (Maryknoll, N.Y., Orbis, 1978).


Sobrino finds traditional views on the nature of Christ devoid of historical and grass-roots relevance. He calls them "Christologies of descent," because they try to superimpose on any given cultural setting a prepackaged, abstract scheme of salvation (Christology, p. 337).


These classic views begin with the dogmatic claim that God became human in Christ, and then proceed to spell out the general implications of this divine act for all humankind.  Little wonder, then, that these christologies appear historically alienating and open to manipulation, completely lacking in human relevance (Ibid., p. 353). 


Sobrino contends that the starting point for Christology should be "the underside of history," an idea that increasingly gained favor among Latin American liberation theologians.  By this term, Sobrino means that one should begin with the actual of the lives of oppressed peoples, and of a Jesus who is Himself rooted in a particular history (Ferm, op. cit. p. 45).


Here once again, we find the issue of the "starting point" for Liberation Theology.  While each liberation theologian has a different area of focus, most of them believe that oppression and suffering are the starting points for biblical interpretation and theological reflection.  This particular theologian (yours truly) also subscribes to that approach to theology.  It is this writer's opinion that if theology does not address or take into consideration the human condition, that it is then, not only irrelevant, but as the late Dr. James Cone said "demonic and oppressive."  


Jon Sobrino's Christology is an important addition the small but growing literature among Latin American theologians that seeks to develop an authentic christology for the poor and oppressed.  One might add that Marx appears only once in the book (Ferm, op. cit., p. 42).


Sobrino's overriding concern is to make Christ come alive in the context of Latin American oppression. In other words, for Sobrino, the doctrine of the person and work of Christ only become relevant when we, as James Cone said, "We don't ask the question as to what did Jesus do back then but what is he doing today? (Ibid.. p. 44).


He talks about the four American woman (nuns) who were raped and killed in El Salvador in 19890.  He says, "They are dead today. But they are also the Risen Christ, who keeps alive the hope of liberation.  Their assassinations as affected the entire world and moved it to indignation. But to Christians, this assassination also speaks to of God, because these women say something to us about God.... Salvation comes to us through all men and women who love truth rather than falsehood, who are more disposed to to give rather than to receive, whose greatest love is  giving their life rather then keeping it for themselves. This where God makes Himself present (Marykoll:Orbis, 1978).


Is Christ present in Latin America today?  If so, how?  I think that most theologians of liberation would affirm that Christ is most present among those who fight for social justice and for the eradication of unjust social policies and structures.


Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Past Professor of Latin American Liberation Theology

Tainan Theological College/Seminary  

Monday, June 15, 2026