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, certainly in the New World, that Christianity was stripped bare of pretense and its adherents exposed for what they were, devils masquerading as saints. To put that in 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 concerning their own souls, Montesino said to them: “How is it possible that you can repose in such a profound and lethargic slumber?”

A statement which in turn begs the question, how can such a dichotomy continue to exist, particularly among professing Christians today? Is it because they believe that salvation exist in a vacuum, apart from any incidental benefit to others, or is it that their own self-interests are such that they become totally deluded? Apparently, and the Church is largely to blame, as by its historical emphasis on the sacraments and salvation by grace to the exclusion of holiness, they have subordinated salvation to it lowest common denominator – believers remaining sinners, while professing Christ. For that reason alone one might say that the sacraments themselves have become perfunctory, lacking the spiritual power to convict believers for their lack of accountability before God. To be clear, from a scriptural perspective then, the Christian conversion will remain forever unproductive if it doesn’t result in spiritual transformation. Unfortunately, convenient excuses are readily at hand, such as regular church attendance, tithes, offerings and token support for missions (far away); the fact being that few Christians would ever consider getting their hands dirty as common laborers in “the fields of the Lord.”

While Montesino may have been the first to articulate a rationale for Indigenous rebellion in the Americas, he was certainly not the last, as the life of Bartolome de las Casas (1484-1566) illustrates. As the first Catholic Bishop of Chiapas, Mexico, de las Casas’ initial notoriety was derived primarily 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, it can be said to be uniquely relevant, as it parallels the Christian narrative in speaking of a day of judgement for evil-doers. Eventually repenting openly of what can best be described as his “crimes against humanity,” de las Casas would go on to become Judge Advocate for the Spanish court. And, arguing from a perspective of universal ethics, he not only became the foremost defender of indigenous rights for the peoples the Americas, but the chief critic of the encomienda as well. Interestingly and quite tragedly, the encomienda, a colonial system of forced-labor based on tribute, suited people in power to a ‘t’, as when it came to impoverished Indian, the only tribute at his disposal was to work himself to death, and that simply for the ‘good pleasure’ of the patron‘s best interests.

Unfortunately, little has changed in the world today, as the encomienda continues, albeit in capitalist form. With the poor, like so many fish, swimming near the bottom of the economic fish-tank, the middle-class being eviscerated, while the sharks continue their predation. At the same time, the Church remains duplicitous, feigning fellowship with the poor, while endorsing exploitation by its lack of intervention. Yet, its complicity was not without consequence, as its tacit collaboration during the colonial era with the encomienda would inadvertently produce a New World hermeneutics. A genesis of Christian thought derived from the Indigenous experience and the most unlikely of candidates – the Indian acolyte. Who, if grace allowed, was sent abroad to be educated in the best Jesuit tradition, only to return at some later date. they put pen to parchment, and wrote…theologically! Volumes in some cases, not only as a lament to Indigenous suffering, but the loss of what could have been, yet not without hope and vindication, compounded by interest, the word of God.

Yet, regarding the spirit of Indigenous rebellion that lay dormant for years, it wasn’t until centuries later that it surfaced once again, theologically, to become the focus of controversy regarding its theological fomited 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.”