Abstract
Seeing the world through the eyes of the marginalised has been a consistent theme in modern Latin American theology. When Latin American Liberation Theology first emerged, evangelical theologian René Padilla expressed a shared concern over the problem of poverty, but also warned that certain elements therein clashed with evangelical hermeneutics. Consequently, he called for a circular approach that would maintain a tension between the crisis of the moment and the authority of biblical revelation. In the twenty-first century, liberation discourse has expanded into postcolonial critique on indigenous culture and identity, including a stream known as Liberation Pluralism. Evangelicals share many of the same concerns. But as they engage with the discourse, there is an ongoing need to heed Padilla's warning. This article argues that evangelicals today can engage in postcolonial and liberation discourses, but that this should be carried out with that same circular hermeneutic which Padilla first proposed.
Introduction
In 1970, to be a poor man or woman in Latin America meant that, despite all your best efforts, you didn’t earn enough to feed your family. You were most likely illiterate. Your children had about a 20% chance of reaching age five. And you’d be lucky if you lived to the age of sixty (Thorp, 1998: 40–42). The wealth of your nation was in the hands of those few families who had held the power and resources for generations. There was little hope that your situation would ever change.
It was in this context that Liberation Theology emerged, driven by the recognition that the Catholic Church in Latin America was fundamentally out of touch with the needs of the poor. A Dominican priest by the name of Gustavo Gutiérrez asked: ‘How can we proclaim the God of life to those upon whom death will come prematurely and unjustly? How can those who innocently suffer recognise the free gift of his love and his justice? With what words can we tell those who are considered non-persons that they are in fact sons and daughters of God?’ (Gutiérrez, 1986: 18–19) 1
Latin American Liberation Theology (LALT), in its initial conceptualisation, was not intended to be a set of answers, but rather a new way of asking questions: ‘Liberation theology presents to us not so much a new theme for reflection, but rather a new way of doing theology. . . A theology that opens itself – in protest against trampled human dignity and in the struggle against the plunder of men – to the construction of a new, just and fraternal society, which is the gift of the kingdom of God’ (Gutiérrez, 1990: 72).
This new approach to theology immediately hit a nerve in theological circles across the region. And despite the doctrinal and historical tensions existing between Roman Catholics and evangelicals, it caught the attention of some influential evangelical scholars. René Padilla described his first engagement with LALT as something like a prophetic encounter: There's no way to evaluate liberation theology without somehow feeling that you’re in the presence of a passionate prophet-theologian. . . Clearly, the theological discourse of the liberationist is not an academic dissertation, but a prophetic message. Its purpose is not to inform or to propose theories, but to call for repentance; it is not an invitation to consider a new and interesting theological theory, but rather a call for the Christian to demonstrate the historical efficacy of his faith (Padilla, 1982b: 21).
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But as the discourse progressed, it became evident to Padilla and others that evangelicals could not embrace LALT uncritically. There were foundational differences between the epistemology of Liberation Theology and the evangelical understanding of divine revelation. An essential question emerged: How can evangelicals develop a theology that is socially grounded and efficacious, and yet attentive to the supra-historical aspects of biblical revelation? In the particular context of Latin America in the 1970s, this question could be framed as: How can theology be from the poor and for the poor, without circumscribing the gospel message within the problem of poverty?
In the five decades that have passed since the emergence of LALT, the social setting in Latin America has changed dramatically. Millions of people have emerged from poverty, and many of the socio-political solutions proposed by early liberation theologians have been rejected by the populace of this region. And yet Liberation Theology has not died out. To the contrary, it has given rise to a group of theologies that attempt to address problems of oppression and injustice in various expressions. Liberation is now a global theme that is often integrated into theological discourse around race, postcolonialism, the environment, feminism, and indigenous identity.
Evangelical theologians are engaging with these various streams of Liberation Theology, but as we do so, the essential question remains the same: How can we develop a theology that is historically grounded and socially efficacious, and yet attentive to the supra-historical aspects of biblical revelation? In other words, how can we do theology in a way that is methodologically and epistemologically open to the current crisis (whatever that may be), and yet reflective of the transcendent, authoritative elements of biblical revelation?
The purpose of this article is to explore how evangelicals, particularly in the context Latin America, might approach this question today. In the first section, we will revisit the historical situation out of which LALT emerged, and flesh out some of the particular elements of this approach which brought it such prominence. We will then look at the evangelical response to LALT as articulated by Padilla. In the second section, we will look at the postcolonial discourse around indigenous culture and identity. First, we will engage with an offshoot of LALT that is known as Pluralismo de Liberación, or Liberation Pluralism (LP). We will then look at how evangelical scholars are approaching similar questions. It will be seen that within the postcolonial discourse, liberation pluralists and evangelical advocates of indigenous theology share a common space. What is yet to be determined, however, is how evangelical theologians in Latin America might follow Padilla in holding the line on an evangelical commitment to the authority of biblical revelation.
Latin American Liberation Theology
A Theological Solution to a Social Problem
Inequality has been woven into the social fabric of the region since the colonial era. Latin American independence movements of the nineteenth century were primarily led by an elite class of people who ensured that their societal privileges would remain intact long after freedom from the European powers was achieved. Even after the Spanish colonial empire collapsed, regional overlords maintained control of the land and wealth, and they utilized their political power to guarantee that their assets remained largely untaxed. With insufficient income, government institutions had little money to spend on education, healthcare or infrastructure (Thorp, 1998: 25). A small elite class held control of the power and the resources, while the vast majority of the population had little hope or opportunity for advancement.
In the twentieth century, there was increased pressure for political reform, but the residue of structural injustices continued. If we look at Latin America circa 1970, a picture of gross inequality emerges. The distribution of income was weighted heavily toward the wealthier members of society. In Argentina, the bottom fifth of the population accounted for just 4.4% of total household income, while the top fifth took in 50%. In Brazil the poorest accounted for 2% of income as the top tier took in 67%. And in Peru, the poorest quintile accounted for just 1.9% of the income, while the wealthiest took in 61% (van de Walle, 1991: 10).
In 1970, 27% of all people in Latin America were illiterate (compared to 1% in the USA). 11% of urban adults worked in the informal sector and the average GDP across the region was around $150 per person (compared to $5600 for the average American). 40% of the total population, equating to 114 M people, lived below the poverty line (Thorp, 1998: 41–44). In many countries across the region inflation was soaring out of control. In the 1970s, annual inflation in Argentina was 142%; Chile: 175%; Colombia: 21% and Peru: 32% (Thorp, 1998, p. 332). It seemed that the poor only became poorer. Add to this the fact that most countries in the region were strapped with debt. From 1970–1978, Latin American debt to US commercial banks and other creditors increased from $29 billion to $159 billion. By the end of the decade, external debt represented a significant percentage of the GDP. The figure in Argentina was 45%; in Chile: 61%; Peru: 67% and Ecuador: 77% (Sims and Romero, 2013).
Liberation Theology encapsulated the concerns and questions that many leaders and theologians were articulating at the time. In the wake of the Second Vatican Council, Roman Catholic leaders had been working to develop new pastoral approaches that would enable the church to confront the problem of poverty. Liberation theologians will emphasize that their concern first and foremost was pastoral theology. They were unafraid to challenge the traditional doctrinal structures of the church, but they did this from a pastoral rather than ideological/philosophical approach. Their primary concern was: What works for the poor? Harold Segura notes: This way of theologizing was a new way of living out the faith; projecting it with effective love toward the impoverished. The newness of this theology was neither in the themes of oppression and injustice, nor the instrumental use of the social sciences, nor even the transformation of society into becoming more just and equitable. The newness really was. . . the living incarnation of the theologian among the poor, understood as a collective reality, active and conflictive. . . Everything begins with the poor (Segura, 2020: 379).
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Evangelical Responses to LALT
When LALT first came on the scene, the reaction of evangelical scholars was not altogether negative. They found that liberation discourse offered a valid critique, and that certain elements of Liberation Theology resonated with the evangelical vision and ethos. But some evangelical scholars, represented by René Padilla in particular, discerned a certain dissonance between the hermeneutics of LALT and the evangelical approach to divine revelation.
In his 1982 article entitled ´La Teología de Liberación: una evaluación críticá (Liberation Theology: a critical evaluation), Padilla recognised that emergent Liberation Theology was also exposing deficiencies in evangelical theology. He argued that European and North American thinkers had reduced revelation into categories of abstract truth and intellectualised frameworks of faith. Moral and ethical problems were being confronted with systematised propositions drawn from Scripture (and sometimes Tradition), resulting in a ‘knowledge of truth that is isolated from the practice of truth’ (Padilla, 1982b: 21).
He thus validated LALT's critique of an overtly rationalised theology, noting that: From the biblical point of view, the logos of God (the Word) has become ‘flesh’ (a historical person), and therefore awareness of this logos is not a mere knowledge of ideas, but rather commitment, communion, and participation in a new way of life. The truth of the gospel is always a truth that is lived, and not a truth that is only known on an intellectual level. ‘Right knowledge depends on right action. Or rather, knowledge is unveiled in action’ (Padilla, 1982b: 21).
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LALT had exposed a gap in evangelical theology and practice that needed to be addressed. Poverty and suffering were the reality for millions of people in Latin America. Evangelical theologians embraced the call of Liberation Theology to read the Bible through the experience of the poor, because they understood that only through authentic engagement with the poor could the power of the Word bring transformation to their lives.
But this is not to say that Liberation Theology was warmly received by the majority of evangelicals. Most pastors and church leaders in Latin America were already wary of anything emanating from Roman Catholic spirituality, and the Marxist overtone of many Liberation models was not particularly appealing to them (Silva, 2009: 9; Kilpatrick, 2019: 13,51).
Beyond this aversion to a politicised theology, however, Padilla was discerning elements within LALT that stood in fundamental discontinuity with evangelical hermeneutics. The problem, in his view, was fundamentally one of epistemology. He argued: When we conceive of the historical situation as ‘the text’, or the ‘primary theological place of reference’, the way is opened for the Word to become subordinate to the human context. A ‘canon within the canon’ is created, and the Kingdom of God is reduced in such a way that it becomes circumscribed by history. Consequently, the Bible is read selectively. It speaks only in relation to a concrete historical situation and a concrete historical endeavour. . . The concentration of hermeneutics on ethics and politics thus results in a theology that does not do justice to the totality of biblical revelation (Padilla, 1982b: 21).
What Padilla advocated was not a reversion the ‘abstract’ theology against which LALT had reacted. What he proposed, rather, was a circular hermeneutic wherein the historical situation is held in tension and dialogue with biblical revelation. This he characterises as: a theology that reads the Bible with a firm determination to let the Bible speak, without forcing it into an ideological mould and without imposing limitations on the Word of God. We are not required to choose between a ‘pure’ biblical theology, over against a theology that intentionally puts the biblical text at the service of ideology. There is a third option: a theology that continually seeks coherence between Scripture and present obedience by means of a ‘synthetic act’ in which past and present - Word and Spirit – merge (Padilla, 1982b: 30).
As the Times Change
As nearly five decades have passed since the advent of LALT, Padilla's critique now seems prophetic in character. Liberation Theology failed to realise the initial dream that it had cast for the transformation of Latin American societies, and critics will cite numerous reasons why this was the case (Kater, 2001). Prominent among these is the dependence on Marxist thought. In Marxist social analysis, liberation theologians found the tools that, they believed, would enable them to authentically do theology from the perspective of the poor (Dussel, 1988: 141,148). 6 The ‘PR’ problem which, of course, arises from this association is the perceived failure of Marxism in the region. Critics need only point to the cases of socialist Venezuela and Cuba as proof. 7
Another factor which would seemingly affect the reception of Liberation Theology among ‘mainstream’ Latin Americans today is the amazing economic transformation that has taken place in the region. Between 1990–2018, 69 million people in Latin America and the Caribbean emerged from poverty, indicating a drop in the poverty rate from 29.5% to 9.3% (Freije-Rodriguez and Woolcock, 2020: 63). 8 Whereas there are numerous debates around the explanation behind this economic transformation, it can be safely concluded that Marxist class revolution did not play a significant role.
In the midst of these economic changes, liberation theologians were left in an awkward position. The validity of Liberation Theology was always predicated upon its practical effectiveness. Liberation theologians distinguished themselves by their aversion to purely theoretical propositions. Their aim was to promote a theological method that would lead to action, and ultimately results. Gutiérrez had argued that: Man only knows well what he does. Truth for contemporary man is truth is veri-fied - it is done. An experience of reality that does not lead to its transformation is an unverified interpretation, it is not made truth. In this way, historical reality ceases to be the field of application for abstract truths, and becomes rather the privileged place from which one starts and to which one returns in the process of (experiential) knowledge. Transformative praxis is not the moment of the degraded incarnation of a washed and well-thought-out theory, but the matrix of authentic knowledge and the decisive proof of its value. It is the place where man re-creates his world and forges himself, embraces and knows the reality in which he is located, and comes to know himself (Gutiérrez, 1973: 241–242). What Gutierrez and his colleagues affirm is that the God of the Bible is clearly on the side of life, and therefore of the oppressed. It is for this reason that theologians often spoke of the “preferential option for the poor,” God's willingness to take their side and therefore the need for a faithful Church to do the same. The biblical concept of the “reign of God” seemed to them to articulate the fullness of God's intentions for humankind and, indeed, the whole creation: a “new world order” marked by economic justice, compassion, peace, ecological harmony, abundance, celebration and festivity, and the perceived nearness of a God whose will is done at last, just as the ancient promises had anticipated.
All this is not to say, however, that Liberation Theologians have been inactive, or that LALT has somehow died out. The genius of LALT, according to its major protagonists, was its success in giving a voice and identity to the poor. And the poor are not the only ‘voiceless’ people in Latin American societies. Alvarado, among others, has called for a ´renewed´ Liberation Theology that addresses cultural, gender, ethnic, generational oppression, as it also addresses the environmental crisis (Alvarado, 1999: 176). Liberation theologians now deploy their foundational methodology in fighting for the cause of those whose voices have been historically silenced. It is particularly with regard to the indigenous peoples of Latin America that an important offshoot of Liberation Theology known as Liberation Pluralism (LP) has become a topic of discussion in many academic circles.
Liberation Pluralism
In the Latin American context, the primary concern of LP is the oppression of the region's indigenous cultures and communities. Progressive theologians view Missionary Christianity as the handmaiden of 16th −twentieth century European colonialism, perpetuated in the twenty-first century by the modern day empire of American evangelicalism (Clark, 2022). Liberation pluralists seek to critically examine how the gospel has been used as an instrument of oppression, and seek to explore how a more pluralistic understanding of religion may lead to the liberation of indigenous identities and cultural expressions.
Whereas the seeds of Liberation Pluralism first germinated among Catholic theological circles in Brazil, this approach has generated conversation among Catholic communities across Latin America, and among Protestant theologians in Spain. And now, ever so slowly, LP is being discussed among students and professors at evangelical and Pentecostal seminaries in the Americas. 11
The roots of the current discourse trace to back to a 1987 essay entitled ‘Toward a Liberation Theology of Religions’ by Paul Knitter. This essay set forth the proposition that that between religious pluralism and Liberation Theology there exists a natural affinity, and perhaps even a functional interdependence. On the one hand, he argued that the ‘the liberation movement needs not just religion but religions’ and that a more pluralistic approach might help bring about the realisation of liberationist aspirations. On the other hand, he suggested that Liberation Theology had the potential to unify pluralist theologians around a ‘common approach and a ‘common context’, taking expression in the preferential option for the poor and the non-person (Knitter, 1987: 179).
In 2003, a group of Catholic Theologians known as the ‘Ecumenical Association of Third World Theologians’ (EATWT) initiated a series of publications entitled Por los Muchos Caminos de Dios (Along the Many Paths of God) wherein they responded to Knitter's initial proposal with warmth and vigour. Across these volumes, it was broadly concluded that the vision to liberate the poor and give voice to the marginalised requires the dismantling of exclusionist and even inclusivist paradigms of Christian theology. It is the pluralist paradigm alone, with its validation of diverse epistemologies and soteriologies, that promises to fulfil the initial vision of Liberation Theology. 12
The third volume in this series, entitled Teología latinoamericana pluralista de liberación (Latin American theology of liberation pluralism) begins with a warm ‘word of welcome’ by liberation theologian Leonardo Boff. He notes that ‘the reflection that has taken place over these past years has led us to move from inclusivism to pluralism. . . Religions are normal paths for God. That is: God has visited peoples and communities through religions. Therefore, in them there is holiness, grace and salvation’ (Boff, 2006: 7). 13
Further on in this volume we find a particularly illuminative chapter entitled ‘Uno y multiple, Dios en persectiva pluralista’ (‘One and multiple’ God in pluralistic perspective’). Roman Catholic Theologians Marcelo Barros and Luiza Tomita here lay out a concise presentation of the problem of exclusivism, and make a coherent case for religious pluralism as the most effective path to liberation for the oppressed indigenous peoples of the Americas.
They draw particular attention those elements in Christian tradition that have opened the way for aggression toward non-Christian cultures and communities, arguing that biblical images which characterise God as ‘king’, ‘Lord of hosts’, or ‘conqueror’ were embraced by Chirstian colonising nations as legitimating factors in their conquest of indigenous peoples. 14 The monotheistic character of the Christian religion became a justification for intolerance and authoritarianism. Just us one God reigned supreme in the heavens, so his representatives would supress and dominate all ‘lords’ and ‘authorities’ who opposed him on earth (Barros and Tomita, 2006: 73). 15
Barros and Tomita go on to discuss three primary problems that continue to be sources of oppression emanating from the church: religious superiority, cultural/racial superiority, and a narrow epistemology. A brief summary of their main points is as follows:
Pluralism is thus seen as the only way to restore the dignity and identity of the indigenous peoples of the Americas. In too many instances, the imposition of the Christian gospel on native peoples has had toxic effects. Indigenous religions have been categorised as ‘false’, indigenous cultural traditions have been belittled and suppressed, and indigenous epistemologies have been discredited. The only path to liberation is for the representatives of the Christian faith to abandon any claim of religious, cultural or epistemological superiority. They must come to view indigenous religions as equal (if not superior) paths to God.
In order to accomplish this task from a (Roman Catholic) Christian angle, the authors, of course, must address those sticky elements of historical Christian doctrine that affirm the soteriological unicity of salvation in Jesus Christ. This affirmation is clearly set forth in the declaration Dominus Iesus,
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which states: In this sense, one can and must say that Jesus Christ has a significance and a value for the human race and its history, which are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute. . .It is precisely this uniqueness of Christ which gives him an absolute and universal significance whereby, while belonging to history, he remains history's centre and goal: ‘I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end’ (Rev 22:13) (Dominus Iesus, 2000).
Liberation Pluralism and the Evangelical Church
Over the past 20 years in particular, the plight of Latin America's indigenous peoples has become a matter of particular concern for Latin American evangelical theologians. Within the context of postcolonial discourse, scholars are carrying out numerous relevant tasks as they: evaluate the way indigenous peoples were historically evangelised; assess the positive and negative consequences of this evangelisation; deconstruct traditional frameworks on the relationship between the gospel and culture; and propose new models of evangelical hermeneutics and practice to affirm and empower indigenous identity. Thus, within the broader framework of postcolonial discourse, liberation pluralists and evangelicals are sharing common spaces.
This, however, is not to say that they have become public allies. Generally speaking, evangelical theologians in the region have avoided direct engagement with the Ecumenical Association of Third World Theologians crowd. Religious pluralism remains theological taboo for conservative evangelicals 17 and in the Latin American context, few theologians are willing to publicly cross this boundary line. But, as mentioned above, there remains a lot of common ground. The question that I want to pursue in the final section of this article is this: in what ways are evangelical theologians in Latin America approaching the postcolonial problem, particularly in contrast with their Liberation Pluralist counterparts? Forty years ago, Padilla was clear about what could be shared between evangelicals and Liberation Theologians, and where they had to part ways. I want to see if, in the era of Liberation Pluralism, this same kind of demarcation is taking place. To research this question, I will be engaging with an article published by the evangelical indigenous scholar Jocabed Solano on the website of the Fraternidad Teológica Latinoamericana ([FTL], Latin American Theological Fraternity). 18
Common Approaches
As noted above, Liberation Pluralists trace the current crisis back to the Spanish conquest of the Americas, noting specifically how the Spanish used biblical motifs to justify their suppression of indigenous culture. Solano certainly agrees with this assessment, citing as an example the words of the Spanish conquistador/historian Oviedo: ‘Who can doubt that the gunpowder used against the infidels is incense to God? The voice of the gospel is only heard alongside the roar of firearms. For them there is no better preaching than the armament and the rod of iron.’ She concludes: ‘it is obvious that the conquerers could not recognise the presence of the Ruah (Spirit of God) in the midst of the experiences and cosmovision of the indigenous peoples’ (Solano, 2024). 19
She goes on to say that from the time of these initial colonial encounters into the twenty-first century, the relationship between the church and the indigenous peoples of America has been characterized by an oppressive binary: European/Indian, father/child, man/animal. She argues that it wasn’t until the advent of Liberation Theology that the marginalisation of the indigenous was given serious attention. Doing theology from the perspective of the poor transitioned seamlessly into doing theology from the perspective of the indigenous, resulting in ‘a theological opening to the recognition of alterity and religious and socio-cultural diversity’ (Solano, 2024).
Among evangelicals, it was from the 1990's forward that the task articulating an ‘indian theology’ gained momentum. Theologians dedicated to this task have aspired to elaborate ‘a new indigenous expression of the Christian faith based on the rediscovery, appropriation and appreciation of the religious and cultural experiences and expressions of the original peoples of the Americas.’ This endeavor calls for the deconstruction of ‘western models of doing theology that disregard the culture and spiritualities or theologies of indigenous peoples’ (Solano, 2024).
In this project, the general pattern of critique is common to postcolonial theological discourse. The same three concerns addressed by Liberation Pluralists are noted: religious superiority, cultural/racial superiority, and a narrow epistemology. Below is a short summary of how Solano addresses these issues:
Reading through this short survey of Solano's arguments, it becomes clear that there are numerous areas of affinity with the liberation pluralist approach. All are harshly critical of the colonial enterprise and its legacy. All argue that many elements of indigenous spirituality represent a genuine path to God that is not innately inferior to historical Christian ways of understanding God. All argue that notions of religious superiority have resulted in a sense of cultural superiority, which marginalises indigenous peoples. And all argue that Christians need to broaden their epistemology to incorporate new ways of knowing and discerning the truth.
This then leads to the question: is the indigenous theology promoted by Solano pluralist? In the literature that I have surveyed, there is insufficient evidence to draw this conclusion. 20 What I can say, however, is that Latin American evangelicals engaged in the postcolonial discourse have not given adequate attention to the demarcation of evangelical doctrine within. The response to Liberation Pluralism in no way resembles the lucid and vigorous response that Padilla and other theologians issued in response to Liberation Theology 40 years ago. And thus, in many regards it is difficult to discern in what ways Solano and her evangelical colleagues might disagree with their counterparts in the Ecumenical Association of Third World Theologians. There is a gap in the scholarship that needs to be filled. 21 In the following, final section I set forth a path by which this might be accomplished within the framework of Latin American theology.
Toward an Evangelical, Postcolonial Hermeneutic in Latin America
Shortly after the advent of Liberation Theology in Latin America, evangelical theologian Rene Padilla crafted a cogent evangelical response. Whereas he recognised the reality of the problems that LALT sought to address, he argued that there were fundamental differences between the epistemologies of Liberation Theology and the evangelical church. What he identified as the Achilles’ heel of LALT was its overdependence on the present historical situation as a source of theology. When the historical situation becomes ‘the text or ‘primary theological place of reference’ the door is open for the eternal Word to become subordinate to the human context. The supra-historical vision of the Kingdom of God becomes circumscribed by a particular place, time, and people. Whereas the theological task cannot be carried out in ignorance to the crisis of the moment, a tension must be maintained between this and biblical revelation. Padilla proposed a ‘circular hermeneutic’, which is attentive to the current historical situation but not dominated by temporal phenomena.
Padilla's insights were prescient. As we have seen above, the economic situation of Latin America changed dramatically from the 1980s onward. In its attempt to address the problem of poverty in the region, LALT became a discourse in search of a reality. The historical situation from which LALT emerged dramatically changed, but the theologians themselves found it difficult to adapt. In defense of their original approach, some of the fathers of LALT have argued that the problem of poverty has not been eradiated in Latin America (Kater, 2001). This is true. But the way we answer the essential questions around the problem of poverty in Latin America has evolved in a dramatic way: Who are the poor?; Where are the poor?; Why are there poor people?; and, How can people emerge from poverty? The fathers of LALT failed to account for the fact that the root causes of poverty are dynamic and complex. They failed to account for the fact that perhaps some of the social scientific models upon which they built their theologies might not work. 22 Insomuch as it had staked its validity on a specific historical problem, and crafted its solutions on a particular socio-economic model – the social efficacy of LALT is yet to be validated.
Within Latin American postcolonial discourse, the focal point has in many ways moved away from economic models toward the question of indigenous culture and identity. And so we must explore whether Padilla's initial critique remains valid. We ask: To what extent is this discourse grounded in a particular historical situation? And if it is, how do the temporal elements of the problem need to be factored into our theological reflection?
Although some scholars will be reluctant to concede this, postcoloniality is an historical circumstance. It pertains to particular segments of the global population at a particular moment in time. Many people on the earth are caught up in the messy aftermath of the colonial enterprise. It affects the way they now feel, the way they now think, and the way they now interpret reality. But this does not describe everyone, everywhere, across all time. The postcolonial situation is the crisis of the moment. The present experience of indigenous peoples does not constitute an ontological category. Just as the picture of poverty in Latin America has changed over the past 40 years, we should also recognise that the challenges being faced by indigenous communities are dynamic and complex. 23 As such, the current experience of oppression and marginalisation cannot become the sole (or even primary) lens through which eternal truth is discerned.
Following Padilla, an evangelical approach to the postcolonial discourse can be methodologically and epistemologically open to the current crisis. Yet it must be carried out in tension with the transcendent, authoritative elements of biblical revelation. In the EATWT models of Liberation Pluralism that we have seen, the Bible offers no epistemological counter-tension. The Scriptures have been demoted to the same status as many other religious texts. The Bible is not treated as an authoritative source of revelation against which other worldviews are to be tested. That which is perceived as beneficial to indigenous culture and identity becomes the primary source of theology.
As I have noted in this paper, there is significant amount of common space that Liberation Pluralists and evangelical theologians can occupy within postcolonial discourse. We can fully acknowledge the current crisis being faced by indigenous communities in the Americas. We can acknowledge any complicity that we have had in perpetuating hurtful attitudes and pedagogies. We can champion and support new hermeneutical approaches that elevate subaltern and historically suppressed voices. But we must know how to demarcate our territory.
Liberation pluralists have rightly noted that the doctrine of the unicity of salvation in Christ stands as the boundary marker between what they derisively refer to as ‘exclusivism’ and the more progressive pluralism that they promote. They sharply criticise the evangelical assertion that God has freely moved to pursue humanity, and that the Christian faith is our response to his initiative . They challenge the notion that the incarnation of Jesus Christ is the supreme, perfect and final act of God's self-disclosure to all humanity. (Barros and Tomita, 2006: 17). As evangelicals we must ask: Is it possible to maintain our historical interpretation of the Bible without making these very same doctrinal affirmations? My answer is No. 24 The Christological declarations of Dominus Iesus are not exclusive to the Roman Catholic Church. Evangelicals will also affirm that ‘Jesus Christ has a significance and a value for the human race and its history, which are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute’ (Dominus Iesus, 2000). Our engagement with the postcolonial discourse must involve a circular hermeneutic wherein we are to open to doing theology through the lens of America's indegenous peoples, even as we look at indigenous idenity and culture through the lens of the incarnation.
Conclusion
In the context of Latin America, evangelical engagement in the postcolonial discourse is still in its early stages. In this essay, we have traced the path that has led us to where we are today. We have seen how, in the midst of economic crisis in the twentieth century, Liberation Theology brought about a new way of doing theology from the place of the poor. In response, evangelical theologians acknowledged the genius of LALT, but carefully laid out ‘rules of engagement’ that were to be employed in order to maintain the historical character of evangelical faith. Padilla argued that this is accomplished when we maintain a hermeneutical tension between the historical situation and the authority of biblical revelation.
We then traced the advent of Liberation Pluralism. It has been seen that some evangelical scholars share in the same historical critique of colonial Christianity, and advocate similar liberative actions to restore the dignity of America's indigenous communities. We now stand in a place where it is important to once again identify the ‘rules of engagement.’ This is yet to take place. My concluding argument has been that evangelicals can and must engage in the postcolonial discourse, but that in this process we must be mindful of Padilla's circular hermeneutic. We can do theology from the place of the marginalised, but we must stand firm in our commitment to biblical revelation, particularly with regard to the universal unicity of salvation in Jesus Christ.
Footnotes
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
