Toward Liberation

“Rest assured that in your present state you are no more saved than those who do not have, nor want, the faith of Jesus.” (Fr. Antonio de Montesinos)

This cryptic statement by Fr. Montesino, in his Sermon to the Spanish Catholics in Hispaniola on Christmas Eve of 1511, was perhaps the first time in the history of the New World that Christianity was stripped bare of its pretense and its adherents exposed for what they were, devils masquerading as saints. To put that in its proper context, when given the opportunity to convert to Christianity before being burned alive, the Taino Indian rebel, Hautey, responded by saying: “If all Spaniards go to heaven, I’d rather go to hell!” Confounded by the Spaniards’ apparent lack of comprehension concerning the depth of depravity of their souls, Montesino’s went on to say: “How is it possible that you can repose in such a profound and lethargic slumber?”

A statement which does in fact beg the question, how can such a dichotomy exist, particularly among professing Christians today? Is it because they believe that salvation exist independently and somehow apart from any benefit other than that of their own salvation? Apparently, and the Church itself is largely to blame, as by its historical emphasis on the sacraments to the exclusion of holiness, they have reduced salvation to it lowest common denominator, with believers remaining sinners while professing Christ. For that reason one might say that the sacraments themselves have become perfunctory, lacking the spiritual power necessary to transform, much less convict, believers for their lack of accountability before God in this life, not to mention the life to come. To be clear, from a scriptural perspective , personal sacrifice will remain forever unproductive if not conjoined with a without a spiritual transformation. Although convenient externalizations exist, such as regular church attendance, tithes, offerings and token support for missions, few Christians would even contemplate getting their hands dirty as campesino’s in “the fields of the Lord.”

While Montesino’s may have been the first to articulate a certain rationale which later became known as “Liberation Theology,” he was certainly not the last, as Bartolome de las Casas (1484-1566) soon followed. As the first Catholic Bishop of Chiapas, de Casas’ initial notoriety was derived from his direct involvement in the burning the Popol Vu, or Mayan Codex, a written history of the earliest myths and creation stories of the Mayan people. Although now considered an incalculable loss for mankind itself, it could also be considered uniquely relevant regarding the prophetic, as the Codex spoke of a day of judgement for wrong-doers. Eventually repenting of what can only be described as a “crime against humanity,” de las Casas later became Judge Advocate for the Spanish court, arguing not only on behalf of universal ethics, but Indigenous rights for the peoples the Americas. Consequently, he was also known as the chief critic of the encomienda, a colonial system of labor based on tribute, which in the case of impoverished Indians meant that their only attribute was to work themselves to death for the benefit of their patron‘s financial interests.

Unfortunately, little has changed, as capitalism itself has evolved to become nothing more than an advanced form of encomienda, exploiting the poor as the primary means of production, while accruing wealth at their continued expense. Interestingly, the Church has labored under a similar guise, extending one hand in friendship, while at the same time endorsing such exploitation through a lack of intervention. Yet, the Church’s complicity has not gone unrecognized, as through it’s role in colonizing the Americas it inadvertently produced a New World hermeneutics. A genesis of thought derived directly from the Indigenous experience of historical injustice, and elaborated upon by pen on parchment. Albeit beneficiaries of the Jesuit tradition and highly educated, it can be said that with the consecration of the first Indigenous Catholic priests and bishops, they wrote. And as their theology evolved, it paralleled that of Indigenous suffering, not only at the hands of colonial governors, but through the quiescence of the Catholic Church.

Yet regarding Liberation Theology itself, it wasn’t until centuries later that it became the focus of controversy regarding its theological justification for revolt. Interestingly, as well as contrary to popular opinion, Liberation Theology was neither Marxist nor anti-religious, as its existential expression was derived from the Bible itself. Seeing themselves written into the script, even as the Jewish people had been, direct-action was deemed counterproductive to the capitalist cause and a threat to US. interests in Latin America during the 1960’s and 70’s. Liberation Theology then was heralded as nothing less than a blueprint for socialist reform, even as it served as the Modus operandi for resistance movements throughout the region. In contrast to its undeserved reputation, it was championed by a number of well-regarded Catholic theologians, such as Boff and Gutierrez, receiving their blessing, even as it became elevated by the martyrdom of saints, such as Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador.

From the very beginning in the Americas, people understood true liberation to be a bottom-up affair, with the poor praying in church on Sundays, whle during the week “… consciously carrying out the revolution of society–and of hearts.” (Inczauskis 2021) Although censured ecumenically as well as politically, Catholic liberation theologians were not only correct in their assessment of the underlying causes of poverty, but were prescient in noting that the common struggle of the poor would eventually encompass the upper classes as well. In addition, they were noteworthy critical of what they referred to as the “Poverty of the Church.” Although they viewed endemic poverty as a societal evil and contrary to the will of God, they identified the spiritual poverty of Christians as being the primary problem. In their singular resistance to the call of charity, as well as their notable “…lack of solidarity with the poor in protest against the conditions under which they suffer,” (Gutierrez 1971) they have not only endorsed it, but allowed it to continue.

And it has, now to the extent that both poverty and its associated evils have migrated further north, seeking safe haven and a secure livelihood in the Disneyland dystopia of the United States. As a result, recompense now knocks at the door of the above-average. And though the growing discomfiture demands a response, the well-intended would be better served by dealing directly with the devil, rather than continuing to externalize the problem. Rather than meaningful reform, the poor among us have become ourselves, even as our religious leaders continue don, whole cloth it would seem, the robes of the repentant, yet their sanctimony is little more than the devalued currency of concession. For better or for worse, perhaps the ensuing chaos that’s coming, due in part to centuries of denial and neglect, will at last be enough to awaken the dreamer from his fitful slumber. “Let us then sleep while we can, lest upon awakening we remember, and forlorn weep, for our part in this world of pain.”