LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY: HUGO ASSMANN 

Hugo Assmann's advocacy of Liberation Theology has made him persona non grata in several Latin American countries.  Exiled from Brazil, Bolivia, Chile, and Uruguay, he found a place on the faculty of  the school of journalism at the University of Costa Rica (Ferm, op. cit., p. 32). 

Assmann's greatest strength lies in his ability to synthesize the major themes of Latin American Liberation Theology.  In his best known work, Theology for a Nomad Church (1976) he spells out a theology of liberation that has taken place since Medellin (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1976).  

The starting point is that every human act has a social and political setting and the Christian obligation is to work for a socio-political setting in which everyone can be fully human.  None of the "progressivist theologies" of the developed countries -secular theology, death of God theology, political theology, theology of hope-has been specific enough to be applied to the Latin American context-nor have the intraecclesiastical reforms of Vatical II, or the Christian-Marxist dialogues in Europe.  Assmann quotes with approval Jose Comblin's Assertion, "Any Latin American who has studied in Europe has to undergo detoxification before they can begin to act ((Ibid., p. 56)

This raises a very interesting question.  Are Assmann and Comblin intimating that any theology that comes out of Europe is inherently and naturally toxic, and maybe even heretical?  It appears that they are both assuming that a true liberation theologian must divest herself/himself of all European theological assumptions and presuppositions.  

Assmann singles out for special criticism European political theology, especially its failure to appreciate the need to join with the poor in overcoming oppressive political structures.  It is all very well for European theologians to talk about the importance of the role of theology in the ongoing political process and the need for Christians to be involved in political change.  Latin American theology goes beyond European political theology when it moves from abstractions to partnership with the poor in the revolutionary struggle (Ferm, op. cit. p. 32).

How is theology aligned with those involved in the revolutionary struggle?  I humbly submit that the linguistic content of theology needs to be understandable to those engaged in the revolutionary struggle. Those involved in the struggle must understand theological language in order to establish a theological underpinning to their revolutionary actions.  They need to deal with the question of "What role, if any, does God play in our struggle?"  If theology is detached from this question and in turn disengages itself from the struggle, then it is a false and irrelevant theology.  If God is not part of our struggle to construct a more just society, then. we want nothing to do with God or anything associated with God.  

Like Juan Luis Segundo, Assmann sees a new methodology as the key to Liberation Theology, a methodology grounded in the social sciences.  The essential task of theology is to analyze the actual conditions in which persons live, a task that  Assmann calls "the socialization of theology."  And when we analyze these conditions, we discover that violence has been institutionalized, as has poverty and oppression.  Here is another difference between Latin American theology and its European and North American counterparts-North Atlantic theology has never sensitive to institutionalized oppression that permits millions of human beings to remain under the poverty line.  Any theology that does not have as its starting point a preference for the poor will ignore their cries and proceed to ask the raw abstract questions that and be satisfied with wrong idealistic answers (Ferm, op. cit, p. 320).  

This goes in keeping with the theological orientation of the late Dr. James Cone, professor of Systematic Theology at Union Theological Seminary, when he stated that if theology does not  address the conditions and status of oppressed and suffering people, that it is then, not only irrelevant, but also demonic and heretical.  If theology is to be not only effective, but also faithful to the message of the Gospel, then it must address both in its linguistic content and thrust, an orientation towards being in solidarity with the oppressed and suffering of the world.  It must have as its central axiom,  the biblical statement of "I have heard the cry of my people."  

Assmann maintains that the worst temptation for theology is to engage in absolutes.  Indeed, even the Bible, tradition, and the Magisterium or teaching authority of the Church, history of dogma, and so on, are but secondary sources of truth.  Assmann insists that a normative authoritarian theological perspective cannot take precedence over a commitment to the poor and oppressed (Assmann, op. cit. p. 104).  

When theology as a task is a message of solidarity with oppression and suffering, it ceases to be a task of establishing theological "correctness" in the classic sense of the word.  "Correct theology," in this case, becomes one which is "correct" only to the extent that it addresses and has something to say about the human condition.  It is only "correct" when it serves as the propelling engine for revolutionary action in the world relative to the pursuit of the construction of a society in which justice will prevail.

Hugo Assmann is a Latin American liberation theologian who has suffered political exile in his espousal of the plight of the poor and oppressed.  But he is convinced that the poor know about the world as God intended it to be than does anyone else.  This is precisely why Assmann insists that Christians should not hesitate to side with the poor. For, by seeing the world from the epistemological privilege of the poor, Christians will advance not only the liberation of the poor, but their own liberation as well (Ferm, op. cit. p. 34).

As a student of Latin American theology, and as a theologian of liberation, I humbly and respectfully submit that theology has to be "the voice of the poor."  It cannot be the mouthpiece of the elites who just love to hear themselves talk, nor the dictums of those whose only concern is with "right doctrine" in the classical sense of the word.  In Liberation Theology, we not only speak "about," but also "to" the poor. In Liberation Theology, the poor speak for themselves and on behalf of their fellow sufferers.  Theology is about solidarity.

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 

 LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY 

LEONARDO BOFF 

Leonardo Boff's chief concern has been to develop a christology for Latin American Liberation Theology. Leonardo Boff, a Franciscan priest, was born in 1938. He studied theology and philosophy at Curitiba and Petropolis in Brazil and later studied at Oxford, Louvain, Wurzburg, and Munich, where he received his doctorate.  He served as Professor of Systematic Theology at the Petropolis Institute for Philosophy and  Theology (Ferm, op. cit., p. 30).

In his Jesus Christ Liberator: A Critical Christology for our time (1978), Boff suggests five criteria for constructing a suitable christology.  They are as follows:

1.  An indigenous Latin American christology will focus on human need rather than ecclesiastical dogma and structure.  

2. Its orientation will be towards the future, asking what Christ can do for the oppressed. 

3.  It will be open to dialogue with the world, and not be concerned with preserving the religious mentality of the status quo.  

4. It will stress the  social dimension of the liberating work of Christ, with special attention given to liberation for the poor and oppressed who have no voice in determining their future.  

5.  It will have as its foundation a Christ who calls us to correct action (orthopraxis) even more than to correct beliefs or orthodoxy (Maryknoll, N.Y., Orbis Books, 1978)

Applying these five criteria, the emergent portrait of Jesus is that of one who is the liberator of the human condition (Ibid., p. 63).

He is also the one who advocates the kind of radical love that knows no human discrimination; the one who reflects "all that is authentically human"(Ibid., p. 87). 

Boff describes Christ s the one who is completely open to God, and who exhorts us  to oppose the oppressors of our day as He did in His day.  His description of the person and role of Jesus is filled with down to earth imagery: "being for others to the end," "the human being par excellence," the one who for young persons is a "tremendous high," the dissenter, revolutionary, and liberator (Ibid., pp. 238-39),  

According to Boff, Jesus's intention was not to establish a new church, but to make clear the dominant qualities of a fully human being. Boff betrays his liberal theological learnings by declaring, "It is not those who are Christian who are good, true, and just.  Rather the good, true, and the just are Christians (Ibid., p. 250). 

For Boff, a christology for Latin America comes down firmly on the side of the poor and downtrodden. To follow Christ in Latin America is to seek to change the existing social structures that support poverty and oppression.  The theology of liberation of Jesus Christ the Liberator is the pain-filled cry of oppressed Christians.  They are knocking on the door of their affluent brothers and sisters, asking for everything and yet for nothing.  Indeed, all they ask is to be people, to be accepted as persons.  All they ask is that they be allowed to fight to regain  their captive freedom ((Ibid., p. 295). 

Boff even asserts that violence might be necessary for the sake of socio-economic liberation.  However, Christians will never initiate physical violence; they will resort to it only when forced by oppressors to do so (Ferm, op. cit, p. 30).  

In his subsequent writings, Boff notes how the situation in Latin America today has striking parallels with the socio-political situation of Jesus's time.  In developing this theme-one that Juan Segundo considers an improper parallel-Boff points out that Palestine, like the countries of Latin America was a dependent state suffering from the external (Roman) control.  Jesus confronted this external domination by preaching about the reign of God that would usher in a new era of human liberation.  Jesus chose to identify Himself with the have-nots, defending their rights and promising them a better day when God's purposes would be consummated on this earth.   (Ibid., p. 31). 

In summary, we find that there are two pivotal points in Boff's Liberation Theology.  The first one is that of Christology, i.e. the doctrine of the person and work of Christ.  Unlike classical Christian theology that focuses on this issue, emphasizing the questions of deity and humanity in Jesus, Boff talks about the relevance of the person of Christ to the situation of oppression and suffering in Latin America,  The question for Boff is not so much whether Jesus is divine and human at the same time, but rather that of what is Christ doing in Latin America today.  In keeping with the spirit of the late Dr. James Cone, Boff is not so concerned with what did Jesus do back in His time relative to the situation of Palestine's socio-economic and political captivity by Rome, but rather what is Jesus doing today relative the socio-economic and political captivity of Latin America. 

The second one is that of violence.  While Boff does not actually advocate for violence, he makes it clear that structural violence, i.e. that generated by the socio-economic and political entities, generates a response defense which can in turn, become violent.  So his mention of violence in his theology, makes us in the modern era, examine what is the role, if any, of violence in our time as a means of social change.

En fin, Boff challenges us to examine, not only our general theological assumptions and presuppositions, but also, in particular our christology. Is our modern-day christology one that is limited to debating the divine vs. human nature of Christ, or is it geared towards placing the person and work of Christ in a suffering world.  

I totally agree with Deane Ferm when he says that Leonardo Boff is one of the most creative and challenging Latin American liberation theologians, one who displays the many-splendored dimensions of a full-blown liberation theology (Ferm, op. cit., pp. 31-32). 

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

Rev. Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Past Visiting Professor of Theology

Tainan Theological College Seminary 

 LATIN AMERICAN LIBERATION THEOLOGY: RUBEM ALVES 

There is a question as to whether Rubem  Alves belongs in the camp of Liberation Theology or Theology of Hope.  And since Liberation Theology and Theology of Hope appear to be similar in some respects, it is difficult to make that determination.

The thinking of Rubem Alves, more than that of most other Latin American liberation theologians, is grounded in the Theology of Hope.  This theology, exemplified particularly in the writings of the German theologians Jurgen Moltmann and Wolfhart Pannenberg, emphasize the eschatological dimension of history.  History in this view is understood to be futuristic, open to new beginnings, with God as the promise of eventual fulfillment.  For these theologians, human salvation is social in character, geared toward social justice and human liberation.  God is envisioned as the "power of the future," leading humanity toward the fulfillment of social justice (Ferm, op. cit. p. 27).

Alves's close identification with European political theology has arisen, in part, from his graduate work at Union and Princeton Seminaries in the United States.  His first book, A Theology of Human Hope (1969), was based on his doctoral dissertation at Princeton University (Ibid.).

Because Alves is very much at home with the writings of Jurgen Moltmann, Juan Segundo has branded him "a disciple of Moltmann."  Such a characterization, however, is misleading, for even in his "A Theology of Human Hope," Alves is highly critical of Moltmann, a judgement that becomes increasingly severe in his later writings,  In his first book, Alves faults Moltmann for focusing almost exclusively on the transcendent dimension of eschatology, thereby giving second place to the human dimension.  For Alves, hope is not something transcendent beckoning humanity from beyond; rather hope is "the stretching out of human consciousness, as it looks beyond the unfinishedness of what is (Rubem Alves, A Theology of Human Hope. St. Meinard, Ind., Abbey Press, 1969, p. 67)."

Alves advocates what he calls a "political humanism"-that is, a creative open-ended process that continually affirms  that a better tomorrow can be achieved.  This political humanism contains three components. First, it denies finality to the present human structures; they by no means represent the final chapter in human history.  Secondly, one must always continue to hope that the future will include the elimination of  these present oppressive forms.  Thirdly, it is humanity and humanity alone that will effect these changes and created new structures that promote human justice.  Alves does not contend that the perfect social order can be achieved, but that a far better society than the present can emerge (Ferm, op. cit., p. 28).

So a fundamental question remains.  Does humankind have the capacity to create and sustain perfect social structures that mete out justice?  Or, from a Pauline, Augustinian, and Calvinistic point of view, is humanity so tainted by sin that it cannot erect these structures?  Is it possible from a Wesleyan point of view that through the power of the Holy Spirit, humankind can erect just social structures that are not perfect, but far better than what we have?  Those questions remain open-ended as human history demonstrates sincere efforts to create those structures, and at that same time, failures at the end of the day. 

For Alves the term "violence" means anything that keeps humans from realizing a better future.  In short, violence is "the power of defuturization." Alves makes much of the notion of freedom and even suggests a "language of freedom," entirely secular in nature, which "does not look behind the stars first in order to find a meaning for the earth (Alves, op. cit.,  p. 163).  

At this point we get into the squabble between "conservative" and "liberal" Christians.  Liberals will say that conservatives are so "heavenly minded that they are no earthly good," and conservatives will say just the opposite, that liberals are "so earthly minded that they are no  heavenly good."  So the question for the theological task is whether our eschatology (doctrine of the final things or history as we know it) should be whether we focus on "The other side of Jordan" as the final destiny of humankind, or whether we should focus on Jesus's words, "If I by the finger of God cast out demons, than the  reign of God is among you."  

We may ask, "Where is God in all this?"  Alves replies: "God is the power for humanization that remains determined to  make humans historically free even when all objective and subjective possibilities immanent in history have been exhausted....The beginning, middle and end of God's activity is the liberation of humans....To speak about God is to speak about the historical events that made and make people free (Alves, op. cit, p. 99)."

A fundamental question remains.  Does Alves's theology fit in more with Liberation Theology or with the Theology of Hope?  In this writer's (yours truly) opinion, to the extent that Alves does not come out strongly to emphasize that oppression and suffering are the starting points for biblical interpretation and theological reflection, that his theology fits in more with the Theology of Hope.  This is not to say, by any stretch of the imagination that Alves's theology is either heretical or worthless.  As Ferm points out, if Alves has reached the point where he can say only that "all is vanity and a striving after the wind," in fairness  to him we should point out that this fatalism is a product of years of agonizing struggle against the forces of oppression in Latin America that seem only to grow stronger (Ferm, op. cit, pp. 29-30).  

While Alves's eschatology might appear to be and remain futuristic in its orientation, I do not believe that he is living in "La La Land."  Nor do I believe that his theology is one of "In the Sweet By and By."  He wrestles with the reality of demonic and structural evil.  Because of that, I would not exclude him from the camp of Liberation Theology.

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

Rev. Dr. Juan A. Carmona 

Past Visiting Professor of Theology

Tainan Theological College/Seminary