Liberation and Asia
Aloysius Pieris is a Jesuit priest from Sri Lanka, and a brilliant author. To my knowledge he only has a few major books he has written, which I consider to be a great tragedy after just finishing An Asian Theology of Liberation. Pieris is reported to be the first non-Buddhist to be awarded a Ph.D. in Buddhist studies by the University of Sri Lanka. In this book, which was first published in 1986, he combines the insights of liberation theology (then at its height) with a very well thought out theology of religions. His insights into other religions of Asia are profound due not only to his training but also his vast personal experience of those religions. In other words, Pieris is no outsider.
As a liberation theologian he frames the mission of the church as partaking in God’s battle against Mammon, which he occasionally (and I think aptly) refers to as Capital. This battle is both a struggle for and against poverty. The struggle against poverty is something that is becoming common in our present day situation. But, Pieris claims that this is inescapably tied to the converse struggle to be poor. These are two necessary poles of the same struggle against Capital.
Framing his theology as such, though, was not what I found so profound in this book. I’ve heard similar ideas said in much more accessible language by Shane Claiborne, or even among other liberation theologians. What is so innovative with Pieris’ book is his stance on other religions, and their place in this same struggle. Pieris seeks to escape the christocentric thought that has dominated liberation theology up to the present. He argues that all religions have the kernel of liberation in their core, and that all have fallen short of this in their own way. In other words, every religion shares Mammon-Capital as a common enemy, and all have been infiltrated with tendencies to capitulate to this great enemy.
Pieris sees Christian missions in the common usage of the term, as an insidious tool of Mammon-Capital to subvert the liberative tendencies of other religions. Not that he is against any evangelization, but that sharing the good news is inescapably tied to the liberation of the poor from oppressive structures. The history of Christian missions has shown that it’s end result is anything but such a liberation. Thus, Pieris’ most controversial idea is that Christian missions in Asia must be accompanied by a baptism into the religions of Asia. He argues that the story of Jesus is one that seeks to fulfill the faith of the poor by fulfilling their work toward their own liberation. This is because the rich do not pour down the blessings of God upon the poor. Rather God is among the poor already, and if the rich want any part with him then they must sell all they own and come follow him. Jesus certainly did not side with the theology of the rich. It can be easily seen that he cared little for the doctrines of the fortunate few, but lived fully in the worldview of the poor among whom he claimed God shared his favor. Thus, the current idea that the rich of the West should charitably share their “true” faith with the poor of Asia is a complete antithesis of what is actually Christian faith. If we wish to be a part of what God is doing we must lose our faith to find it, and be immersed in the religiousness of the poor. We must do this because this is where Jesus is actually to be found, and where the kernel of liberation is still living waiting to break through the soil.
As liberation theology always manages to do, this book proved to me how I am not a Christian nor do I know any. Yet, at the same time it revealed to me the hope of the gospel in its authentic form. Beyond all my struggles to perceive “the Truth” are the greater matters of human dignity and the oppression of those who don’t have the leisure to consider “theological matters”. For the poor the conflict between science and religion is minutia. Arguments over cosmology and the nature of God are luxuries they are rarely afforded. They are born into a faith and culture that are inadequately replaced by the gospel of missionaries. If I truly hope to follow the man who proclaimed God preferentially living in their midst, then my concern is not that they hear my version of the gospel, but that I participate to my fullest ability in their experience of his liberating blessings.
I give the book five stars. If one has any interest in liberation theology, it is a must read.
3 Comments:
"For the poor the conflict between science and religion is minutia. Arguments over cosmology and the nature of God are luxuries they are rarely afforded. They are born into a faith and culture that are inadequately replaced by the gospel of missionaries. If I truly hope to follow the man who proclaimed God preferentially living in their midst, then my concern is not that they hear my version of the gospel, but that I participate to my fullest ability in their experience of his liberating blessings."
Great concluding lines Joe. I liked this post a lot. I remember the going to Jamaica freshman year on a mission trip. We were hanging out with a widow who lived in a dump, and then were told that we needed to leave there to go door knocking to convert Jehovah Witnesses. Thanks for breaking down this book some, and giving us a preview.
As someone who has a great interest in Liberation Theology (although only as far as Gustavo Gutierrez, really), I found this post and Pieris's arguments intriguing. I have a couple of push-backs, though.
I agree that Mammon is the great enemy of all faiths, and that we would do well to emphasize this commonality in interreligious dialogues rather than fight over who is closer to a monopoly on truth. I also agree that a degree of inclusivism is in order in all our mission efforts, both in Asia and in Abilene. And I agree with the basic Liberation premise that the church should be steadfastly committed to implementing structural changes in society to fight poverty, as well as seeking to live in proximity with the poor.
However, I wonder if there's some privileging of the problem of poverty going on here (I haven't read the book, so I'm just going off how you're presenting it). I realize I must say this with humility, and caution against brushing off the problem of poverty any more than we've been doing (terrifically) for quite some time now. Poverty is certainly a scandal to all our speculative theologizing, but I don't think it has unsurpassable authority to nullify any discipline that is not in direct correlation with the concerns of the poor. (This is nothing specific to poverty; I don't really believe in the unsurpassable authority of anything anyway.) I'm wary of attempts to reduce Christianity to any one practice or list of beliefs, and I have to say that if this means the Gospel cannot be reduced to a prohibition against extramarital sex then it also cannot be reduced to a concern for the poor either. Again, I want to be as politically sensitive as possible in saying this, because for too long now we've excused stories like The Rich Young Ruler as "strictly allegorical" when, in this department at least, we could benefit from a healthy dose of some old-fashioned legalism now and again.
I find it interesting that some of the most rigorous ethical demands in the New Testament concerning poverty are in Matthew and Luke, and the word "grace" is found only once in Luke and is entirely absent from Matthew. Are social justice and grace antithetical to each other on some level? I suspect that they are, and that they need to be held in tension (I dislike using that phrase; it feels like a cop-out). I know some wealthy Republican Christians who love to talk about grace when it comes to the command to give our money away, and I know some liberals who can be downright judgmental of people who don't share their commitments to social justice (I think Mark Wahlberg's character in I Heart Huckabees is a hilarious and poignant illustration of this type).
For this reason, I don't think you can write yourself or others off as unchristian on the grounds that we all live in the wealthiest country in the history of the world and that we enjoy the leisure of noncommittally speculating about theology on expensive Apple computers. This should no doubt trouble us, but it should not disqualify us from claiming to be followers of Jesus. It's a bit ironic that Gutierrez, in all his sincere righteousness, left Peru to study theology in affluent Belgium in order to better articulate the importance of poverty, and now teaches at Notre Dame and receives the comfortable salary of a world-renowned scholar. But isn't this unavoidable?
Anyway, sorry for being long-winded. I appreciate your thoughts, as always. Thanks for introducing me to the Asian strand of Liberation Theology.
Nic,
Thanks for the comment. And, in a way, I feel very much in agreement with you. Allow me to frame it like this: I feel that Pieris, like most liberation theologians who are practicing rather than lecturing, is much closer to living out the gospel because of the fact that the people they work with are closer sociologically to Jesus. Jesus was unquestionably poor, as were his first followers. His message is mostly directed to and spoken in the idiom of the poor. Thus why I constantly feel an immense sense of failure in following his message, and naturally turn my criticism toward those who are just like me, but less forthcoming about their 'un-Chiristianess'.
That being said, I also believe, as you have said here, that God does not hate the rich (us). Nor does he reject us until we have sold everything to live on Jesus' level, and thus be personally addressed by his message. With God, we camels may squeeze through the eye of a needle. And, furthermore, the "good news" is still applicable to our context. The Kingdom is coming for us too. Only, as it wasn't proclaimed in our idiom we have to set about the infinitely difficult task of understanding what it then means.
So, yes, I agree with you. It is possible to be rich and Christian, though being as such places us permanently in an awkward and uncomfortable position. I do fully agree with Pieris that we cannot escape what will be for us a life long struggle against Capital. We will always be faced with the hardest form of discipleship: the struggle to be poor for the sake of the poor. This struggle will frequently mean that we 'walk away sad on account of our great wealth.' And, still, hope remains.
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