LIBERATION THEOLOGY COMMENTARY:
Kyle Seymour
Kyle Seymour
What is liberation theology? Until recently, I didn’t really know. As a young Catholic I’d definitely heard of it, but only in passing. When I did hear the term it was almost always along with words like “radical” and “extreme” or “communist” and “Marxist.” I felt like the kid sitting in the back of the class, then, when I joined Incarnate Word Missionaries and it seemed like it was a regular part of everyone’s vocabulary, if not a crucial part of their formation. I was forced to re-examine everything I thought I knew about it. Although I felt, at first, that I was behind the curve, I realized that while I may not have been familiar with Gustavo Gutierrez, his Theology of the Oppressed, or things like Christian Base Communities, I can say that I am familiar with the foundation of liberation theology.
When Jesus returned to Nazareth and stood in the synagogue to preach he was handed a scroll from Isaiah. Of all the scripture he could have chosen, he “unrolled the scroll and found where it was written:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
Of all the things Jesus could have chosen to speak about, he not only chose this passage from Isaiah, he also proclaims himself as the fulfillment of it. How did Jesus define himself in front of the crowd in Nazareth?
He makes it very clear why he was sent, therefore why we too are here: To bring good news to the poor, release the captives, restore the sight to the blind and to free the oppressed.
Wait…how are we possibly expected to achieve these things?
Well, how did Jesus fulfill these things?
He acted.
He acted.
He went to where the poor were and told them that they were the heirs to the kingdom. He spat in his own two hands, formed clay and healed the man of his blindness. He freed the lepers who were oppressed by society by entering into their communities and curing them.
Following the logic of Jesus then, it is our duty to do the same.
We act.
To live out our Christian faith, we must go out to where the poor are to take them the good news. We must be his healing hands, right here, right now. We must challenge the structures which oppress.
To live out our Christian faith, we must go out to where the poor are to take them the good news. We must be his healing hands, right here, right now. We must challenge the structures which oppress.
That’s what I believe, anyway. As it turns out, I’ve been a follower of liberation theology for a good while without even knowing it.
Katie Langley
I heard a lot about Liberation Theology in college, especially having gone to a Jesuit school (Sobrino, Gutierrez, Romero, and the Jesuit martyrs were all popular topics in class). I always felt that theology classes were over my head, but the theology of liberation was something I finally felt like I could understand and identify with. The idea of solidarity with the poor and Jesus’ life being centered on social and economic injustice just makes sense. Of course Jesus was actively opposed to the oppression and marginalization of the poor, the rejected, the exploited, and the sick. And of course we should seek justice in the same way.
I think the whole idea of living in a developing country through a calling from Christ is the first step to living out liberation theology. To sacrifice your comfortable first world reality for one of poverty is something so important for everyone to experience. And it isn’t just going to “do for” the people (build a house or donate some clothes), but to “be in solidarity with” the people. How can one truly act against unjust social structures and poverty if you have no idea what struggles the poor are experiencing??
I am not saying that by living in Chimbote, Peru for 2 years I have liberation theology figured out and I am doing some amazing thing by doing this. In fact, the more I stay the more I realize how much I contribute to the oppression of the third world daily – by how I use water, to the clothes I buy, to the food I eat, and further. I do however know that living in Chimbote has made the theology of liberation something very real to me in a way that it couldn’t be in a classroom. Why is the town 3 hours south of us being destroyed by U.S. capitalist mining companies?? Why are my Hospice patients dying of cancer simply because chemotherapy and medications are economically out of the question for them?? How is it ok for 300 Peruvian families to become displaced and homeless because the government decided to bulldoze down their squatter community after 10 years?? And who is going to counteract this injustice if WE don’t do it?? Jesus Christ would be on the forefront of action for liberation and justice for the poor, but since Christ isn’t walking around physically right now, WE are called to be Christ’s hands in the world. If something affects the poor, it affects you, me, and all of us. It isn’t just about the afterlife, but justice here and now on Gods EARTHLY kingdom.
In order to be true Christians, we have to try and live as Christ lived. In order to truly strive to achieve this, we need to struggle alongside of the poor and experience, as much as we can, solidarity with them. We have to try to see the world as the poor see the world and ask the questions: WHY is it like this? and WHAT can we do about it in the name of Christ? I can’t buy Chemo treatments for all of my Hospice patients, but I can clean their wounds, pray with them, cry with them, and tell everyone I know about them so other people start asking “why” too. It is our duty as Christians to bring justice and social equality to all.
Emily Ruskamp
We often associate liberation theology with ideas like revolution, martyrdom, and subversion. And rightfully so, for in many countries where it has been put into practice, the level of oppression and violence toward the poorer class was such that an authentic Catholic faith demands radical denouncement and active opposition of the oppressing class. But what does liberation theology look like in a community not so blatantly ravaged by oppression and violence? I believe it is here that we truly discover the core of a theology of liberation, because accompaniment with the poor is by its nature neither glamorous nor dangerous in the Oscar Romero sense that it´s obtained. What were the Jesuits doing in El Salvador before the violence elevated to such high levels that they were killed? I imagine that it was a lot like what we strive to live like as missionaries. It means giving importance to people who aren´t used to feeling important, accepting hospitality from people who are made to think they have nothing to offer, choosing to live with less in a culture that tells us we need more. And this can often feel mundane, boring, and normal… but within moments that seem unimportant, we can teach each other that we deserve to be treated with dignity, that our voice matters, and that God does not desire our suffering at the hands of injustice. If that sounds like radicalism, it´s because we´ve fallen too far into the trap of consumerism and selfishness. No, what we do is live a pretty normal life. The only thing different is that in all actions on all levels, we strive to think first not of ourselves, nor of our comfort, our safety, or our interests, but of those who are suffering most in our community and how they will be affected. Walking together with those suffering the most, we live out a theology of liberation.
Kelli Nelson
The concept of a theology of liberation can mean very little without lived exposure or eye/ear witness to real stories of those disenfranchised, marginalized, and forgotten by those of mainstream society. And, especially coming from a 1st world country where we live in large numbers lives that are comfortable and don’t necessarily come in contact with the struggles of those elsewhere in the world, it can seem very foreign. The term came to existence for me in my university studies, and part of my motivation for coming here was an exhaustion of merely having the theory, which propelled a longing and restlessness for more…a real taste so to speak of what it means to seek justice from the bottom up and not the top down as is the norm.
Being here in Chimbote has inspired endless questions to live and ask each day, as the effects of our country’s actions and economics so obviously impede with life here. We are so not living in right relationship with our brothers and sisters, and if we continue living as we are the polarization will only widen. I think that liberation theology calls us to live in relationship with all creation, to really know and understand the impact that our choices have on others, and to seek Christ in others living out a radical love that knows no boundaries. It is empowerment and the upholding of a deserving inherent dignity of all, working together, allowing others to flourish and the opportunity to make moral decisions. I work in a neighborhood where corruption rules, which leads to corruption and more corruption. For example, the other day, one of my clients reported the abuse of her neighbor’s child by the mother, but was afraid for her life that “friends” of the mother would come after her. There, if you’re not “in with” the corrupt, you are the corrupt, and you become the target. And, this is not only in existence in one neighborhood, it’s all over. People silenced by fear. I ask, “How can a country, a people, grow and develop with so much corruption? And, how can we give people the opportunity or choice to do good?” More and more I see that it starts small, on the personal level, at the heart. It is spiritual. It is in forming loving relationships, telling real stories that move, that reveal, that empower, that transform and connect, and in turn give hope and inspire change. I imagine a world where we all walk around with Jesus’ “I am with you” servant attitude seeing each and every person as a member of our family; Peace fills my heart and the truth feels that much closer. Serving, connecting with, and working alongside my neighbors here is just the start…
