The synthetic gospel of Liberation Theology

A while back, a friend, knowing of my associations with the Christian community in Brazil, assumed that my contacts would be heavily into Liberation Theology, a praxis-oriented theology that began in Latin America just over half a century ago and reached its peak of popularity during the 1970s and 80s. But, no, most of the people I've come to know in Brazil are fairly negative towards it, seeing that its promises have not been fulfilled and have perhaps made matters worse. Nearly two years ago, I published an article with Kuyperian Commentary to which I did not link at the time but do now: The Synthetic Gospel of Liberation Theology. Here's an excerpt:

As an undergraduate student, I was briefly attracted to liberation theology while never completely signing on. At the time I fancied myself something of a campus radical, relishing the responses I received from my fellow students at our American Christian university in the upper midwest. To be sure, we weren’t UC Berkeley, and I wasn’t Abbie Hoffman or Daniel Cohn-Bendit. I searched through Karl Marx’s writings to find a pithy slogan to put on my dormitory wall, but, to my disappointment, found nothing worthy of even the bare plaster of a monastic-like cell. I genuinely believed that the Christian faith in which I was raised demanded structural social change. Liberation theology was not the first choice in my efforts to apply my faith to the ills of society, but I believed I had to take it seriously and at least look into it.

Back in the 1970s liberation theology was big in certain Christian circles. Associated largely with Latin America, it began with a famous bishops’ conference in Medellín, Colombia, in 1968. At that moment of revolutionary ferment, it appeared to be the wave of the future, calling on the church to advance a “preferential option for the poor” and to take the side of the oppressed against their oppressors. I read Gustavo Gutierrez, Leonardo Boff, José Miguez Bonino, and José Miranda, the major figures in the movement, thinking that perhaps their ideas would change the church for the better, shaking us out of our complacency and moving us to make a better world for everyone. I was intrigued by the establishment of base communities throughout Latin America, enabling the poor to take their lives in their own hands and to chart a future course together. Nevertheless, I eventually found the movement wanting and moved on.

To find out why, read the entire article here.