
Living
Theology in the Metropolitan Chicago Synod
Volume 12, Number 1
Pentecost 2007
Hispanic-Latino Theology and Ministry
Religiosidad Popular, The Virgin Mary,
and Lutherans
by
Maxwell E. Johnson
Presented at the Cofradía
Católica-Reformada Meeting, Santa Cruz Lutheran
Church, Joliet, Ill., September 14, 2006.
I. What is “Religiosidad
Popular?”
One
of Virgilio Elizondo’s signficant contributions to contemporary theological
thought has been the invitation to take seriously what is called “religiosidad popular” – “popular religion” or “popular
piety” in distinction to “official” or “institutionalized faith” – as an
important, even central, theological locus.1 While in the past theologians and historians
tended to denigrate or even dismiss
“popular religion” as but “superstition,” vestiges of “paganism,” or as
reflecting, somehow, a much “lower” form
of belief and practice among the “unenlightened,” modern scholarship has been
more willing to embrace a much broader view of the whole, including the
religious lives of the poor, women, and others.
Peter
Brown’s important 1981 work, The Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function
in Latin Christianity, represents a significant scholarly shift in this
regard. Here, in particular, Brown
argues convincingly that the real history of the early Church is to be read,
precisely, in the development of the “popular” practices and beliefs associated
with the cult of the martyrs and later saints at their shrines in the overall
shaping of late antique culture, religion, and society, practices shared by
both the intellectually elite and others in the Church, in spite of their
differing intellectual facilities.2
Similarly, among especially Latino-Hispanic theologians today, such
practices of religiosidad popular have
increasingly moved from the periphery to the center of theological thought and
reflection.
Some
of the familiar practices often associated with this phenomenon of “popular
religion” today (e.g., rosaries, home altars, scapulars, pilgrimages, novenas,
eucharistic adoration, devotions to Mary and to particular saints) have been,
throughout the past two or three decades, making a definite “comeback” among
Roman Catholics, in general. But it is important to note how “popular religion”
itself among Hispanic-Latinos, while appearing to share many of the same
devotional expressions or forms, is often quite distinctive both in substance
and orientation. Mark Francis notes
that:
[W]hile many of these practices appear similar, it would be a
pastoral error to assume that they always ‘mean’ exactly the same thing. The popular religion of many Hispanics, for
example, while based in part on the same medieval matrix as Euro-American devotionalism, includes elements indigenous to the ‘New
World.’ These elements express deeply
held convictions about one’s place in the universe, access to the sacred, and
how human beings experience time. These
convictions were formed from experiences of life that are different from those
of Europeans.3
Consequently,
as Orlando Espín notes in the introduction to his
compelling book, The Faith of the People: Theological Reflections on Popular
Catholicism, if Euro-American Catholic “liberals” often fail in their
attempts to be in a real solidarity with Hispanic-Latinos because they tend to
dismiss the role and value of popular religion altogether, Euro-American
Catholic “conservatives” also fail because they tend to see:
…[Latino] popular Catholicism from
the perspective of [their] own ecclesiastical, political agenda and wrongly
assume that our religion agrees…or at least can be recruited to appear to be in
agreement. Latino popular Catholicism,
although not necessarily subversive, can (and quite often has) surprised the
conservative with confrontation and opposition.
Catholic conservatives suspect that they can separate our holy symbols
(especially Marian ones) from the lives and suffering of our people (thereby forgetting
that much of the pain inflicted on Latinos is often the direct result of the
conservative political agenda). They do
not understand how much they offend our faith and our holy symbols!4
In
other words, although devotion, for example, to the Virgin of Guadalupe (and
other Hispanic-Latino devotions to the Virgin Mary under another of her many advocations) might look the same in terms of outward
manifestation, and appear, at the same time, to be but the common expression of
a similar shared worldview or devotional and ecclesiastical milieu, they are
not necessarily the same at all.
“Popular
religion,” therefore, especially related to a Hispanic-Latino context:
…can
be defined as the set of experiences, beliefs and rituals which more-or-less
peripheral human groups create, assume and develop (within concrete
socio-cultural and historical contexts, and as a response to these contexts)
and which to a greater or lesser degree distance themselves from what is
recognized as normative by church and society, striving (through rituals,
experiences and beliefs) to find an access to God and salvation which they feel
they cannot find in what the church and society present as normative.5
More
concretely, in the words of Roberto Goizueta: “the
adjective ‘popular’ does not primarily mean ‘common,’ ‘widespread,’ or
‘well-liked,’ though popular religion is, indeed, all of these. Rather the adjective refers to the
socio-historical fact that these religious symbols, practices, and narratives
are of the people.”6 And, as he continues, “the Catholicism
which…lies at the heart of…Hispanic culture…is not so much the hierarchical
Catholicism as the Catholicism which manifests itself in the faith and
religious practices of the people….Popular religion is ‘popular’ because it
emerges from and constitutes us a people.”7 That is, “popular religion,” especially
“Latino Popular Catholicism,” is precisely the way in which Christianity itself
was “incarnated,” “inculturated,” and/or came to be
expressed in Mexico, Central, and South America, and how it has survived and
been passed down through generations, most often under the leadership of
Hispanic-Latina women, its pre-eminent story tellers, practitioners, or
“priests.” It is, thus, the very way in
which this particular people has made and continues to make Christianity its
own faith and way of life, the way in which Christianity became and remains the
faith of this particular populus or people. That is,
“popular religion,” according to Alex García-Rivera,
is, ultimately, that religion “in which faith is challenged, interpreted, and
made one’s own.”8
II.
Religiosidad Popular, The
Virgin Mary, and Lutherans
To
take “popular religion” seriously as a theological source, then, and to respond
to it on a pastoral level, surely implies that one must look theologically at
those very symbols, rituals, and narratives by which and in which this “faith
of the people” has been and continues to be expressed. One of those popular symbols is surely that
of the Virgin Mary in her several advocations that
permeate the various cultures throughout the Latino-Hispanic world.9 Does someone from one of these cultures need
to deny their very culture in becoming or being both Latino-Hispanic and
Protestant, especially when that culture has been shaped to a large extent by
Roman Catholicism? Methodist theologian
Justo Gonzalez writes that:
…there
is in much of Latino Protestantism a sense of cultural alienation that is very
similar to that produced by the much earlier Spanish colonization of the Americas. Just as Spanish Roman Catholicism told our
native ancestors that their religion, and therefore much of their culture, was
the work of the devil, so has Anglo Protestantism told us that the Catholic
religion of our more immediate ancestors, and therefore much of our culture,
must be rejected….Just as native populations can accuse the earlier Catholic
‘evangelization’ of undermining their culture and destroying their identity, so
do some accuse the later Protestant ‘evangelization’ of similar misdeeds. In many ways, just as for many natives in the
sixteenth century it was necessary to abandon much of their cultural traditions
in the process of becoming Catholic, so are many Latinas and Latinos forced
away from their cultural roots as they become Protestant. And in both cases, this cultural alienation
is depicted as good news!….Yet many Latino/a
Protestants refuse to abandon their culture and its traditions.10
He
continues: “Caridad, Guadalupe, and novenas are not
part of my more immediate tradition. Yet
they are part of my culture. Does that
mean that, like my native ancestors five centuries ago when faced by the
initial Catholic ‘evangelization,’ I must renounce my cultural heritage in
order to affirm my Christianity? I do
not believe so.”11 Does one
simply say to people who are becoming Lutheran, “Throw out your images, stop
lighting candles, dismantle the altarcitos in your
homes, stop wearing medals of Mary or a Saint, and stop reciting rosaries and
novenas because now you are a Protestant and Protestants don’t do those
things?” If this approach, undoubtedly,
has been a characteristic of Hispanic-Latino Protestantism in general, and one
still vehemently supported by several Hispanic-Latino Protestants themselves
(!), there must be another way to approach the topic for those for whom such
practices are life-giving, identity building, and faith sustaining.
One of those ways, perhaps, is to highlight
what, in fact, Lutherans and Roman Catholics have affirmed together about the
Virgin Mary and the Saints today. In 1992 was published a joint statement, The
One Mediator, the Saints, and Mary, in which at least enough theological
convergence and clarity was noted to state that this issue need no longer be
“church dividing” in the continued quest toward full and visible
communion. With specific regard to the
question even of the possible invocation(!) of Mary
and the Saints in the Church, the statement notes that: “Saints on earth ask one another to pray to
God for each other through Christ. They
are neither commanded nor forbidden to ask departed saints to pray for them.”12 More
recently, Lutheran theologian Robert Jenson has written with specific regard to
invoking the Virgin Mary by means of the second half of the Hail Mary (i.e.,
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our
death”):
First,
Mary is Israel in one person, as Temple and arch prophet and guardian of
Torah. To ask her to pray for me is to
invoke all God’s history with Israel at once, all his place-taking in this
people, and all the faithfulness of God to this people as grounds for his
faithfulness to me. It is to have Moses
say, ‘Why should the heathen profane your name, because you leave your people
in the lurch? Because you leave Robert Jenson in the lurch?” It is to send Aaron into the Tent of Meeting
on my behalf. It is to quote all
Scripture’s promises about prayer at once, as summed up by Jesus, ‘Whatever you
ask the Father in my name will be done.’
‘Fiat
mihi,’ Mary said, giving her womb as space for
God in this world. After all the Lord’s
struggle with his beloved Israel, he finally found a place in Israel that
unbelief would not destroy like the Temple, or silence like the prophets, or
simply lose, like the Book of the Law before Josiah. This place is a person. To ask Mary to pray for us is to meet him
there.
Second. From the beginning of creation, heaven is
God’s space in his creation. As a
created space for God there must be a mysterious sense in which Mary is heaven,
the container not only of the uncontainable Son, but of all his sisters and
brothers, of what Augustine called the totus
Christus, the whole Christ, Christ with his
body. But Mary is a person, not a sheer
container. That she contains the whole
company of heaven must mean that she personally is their presence. To ask Mary to pray for us is to ask ‘the
whole company of heaven’ to pray for us, not this saint or that but all of them
together. It is to ask the church
triumphant to pray for us.
Interestingly,
Luther and Melanchthon were happy to say that the saints as a company pray for
us, that the church in heaven prays for the church on earth. To invoke Mary’s prayer as the prayer of the Mater
Dei, the prayer of the Container of the Uncontainable, is to invoke
precisely this prayer. Perhaps, indeed,
Mary’s prayer, as the prayer of the whole company of heaven, is the one saint’s
prayer that even those should utter who otherwise accept Melanchthon’s argument
against invoking saints.13
And,
admittedly from a Roman Catholic perspective, Virgil Elizondo
refers to the Virgin of Guadalupe in this context: “Protestants tell me: ‘But
Christ alone is necessary for salvation.’
And I say to them: ‘You are absolutely right. That is precisely what makes Guadalupe so
precious. Precisely because she is not
necessary, she is so special! She is a
gift of God’s love.’”14 And, elsewhere he writes:
What
most people who have not experienced the Guadalupe tradition cannot understand
is that to be a Guadalupano/a…is to be an evangelical
Christian. It is to say that the Word
became flesh in Euro-Native America and began its unifying task – ‘that all may
be one.’ In Our Lady of Guadalupe,
Christ became American.… Some modern-day
Christians – especially those whose Christianity is expressed through U.S.
cultural terms – see Guadalupe as pagan or as something opposed to the
gospel. It is certainly true that just
as the gospel was co-opted and domesticated by Constantine and subsequent
‘Christian’ powers, so has Guadalupe been co-opted and domesticated by the
powerful of Mexico, including the church.
Yet neither the initial gospel nor the gospel expressed through
Guadalupe has lost its original intent or force, a force that is being
rediscovered as the poor, the marginalized, and the rejected reclaim these
foundational gospels as their chief weapons of liberation and as sources of
lifestyles that are different from those engendered by ecclesial and social
structures that have marginalized, oppressed, and dehumanized them.15
III. Conclusion
One
of the ongoing challenges facing especially Latino-Hispanic Lutherans today is
precisely this: how to be a truly “evangelical Christian,” rooted theologically
in the Lutheran Confessions, and how to be simultaneously a truly “catholic
Christian” rooted in the very catholic substance and tradition of the faith,
especially as that substance has been incarnated in Latino-Hispanic cultural
contexts? For some this is not an issue
at all since being a Latino-Hispanic Lutheran or Protestant means,
automatically, an outright rejection of anything smacking of what is called
“popular Catholicism.” But for another,
increasingly visible, group of Hispanic-Latino Lutherans this is a very
important issue, indeed. One of our
newer ELCA congregations in Irving, Texas, for example, has taken the name of
“Santa María de Guadalupe.”
Increasingly,
her image, along with other Marian images, as well as statues and icons of
others like San Martin de Porres, and liturgical
celebrations and devotional practices brought to the United States by
immigrants from the south, are appearing in Lutheran churches and show no sign
of disappearing. Interestingly enough,
the popular Peruvian San Martin de Porres did not
make the final cut for inclusion in the calendar of the ELCA’s El Libro de Liturgia y Cántico, but has managed now to make it into Evangelical
Lutheran Worship via the ELCA’s African-American liturgical resource, This
Far By Faith.
The
Virgin of Guadalupe, alas, not to mention the several other Virgencitas
from Latin American cultures, is still looking for an officially recognized
home like this in the ELCA, even though she, like San Martin, now has an ELCA
congregation named after her. She’s here
in Lutheranism, as well as in certain locales in Episcopalianism,
Presbyterianism and Methodism, and I suspect that she is not going to go
away. Will there be a space for her, or
more accurately, will there be a space for those who believe that with her they
can be truly “evangelical Lutheran Christians” and not reject their rather
“Catholic” culture?
Notes
1See V. Elizondo, Guadalupe: Mother of the New Creation (New
York: Orbis Books, 1997).
2Peter Brown, The
Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function in Latin Christianity (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1981), 12ff.
3Mark R. Francis, “Building
Bridges between Liturgy, De-votionalism, and Popular
Religion,” Assembly
20, 2 (1994), 636.
4Orlando O. Espín, The Faith of the
People: Theological Re-flections on Popular
Catholicism (Maryknoll:
Orbis Books, 1997), 5.
5Sixto García and Orlando Espín,
“Hispanic-American Theology,” in Proceedings of the Catholic Theological
Society of America 42 (1987), 115.
6Roberto S. Goizueta, Caminemos con
Jesús: Toward a Hispanic/Latino Theology of
Accompaniment (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1995), 21.
7Ibid., 22-23.
8Alex García-Rivera, St. Martín de Porres: The “Little Stories” and the Semiotics of
Culture (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis
Books, 1995), p. 20.
9The various
Marian images or advocations throughout Mexico,
Central, and South America are too numerous to list here but, among several
others, they include: the Virgin of San
Juan de los Lagos (Mexico), the Virgin of Luján
(Argentina); of the Angels (Costa Rica); of Charity of El Cobre
(Cuba); of “La Altagracia” (Dominican Republic); and
of Mercy (Peru); For brief descriptions of these and others, see Oficina regional del sureste para el ministerio hispano, Las advocationes marianas en la religiosidad
popular latinoamericana, in Documentaciones
sureste 5 (Feb. 2, 1996).
10Justo González, Mañana:
Christian Theology from a Hispanic Perspective (Nashville: Abingdon),
61. On the “Catholic” roots of
Hispanic-Latino culture see also Goizueta, Caminemos con Jesús,
8ff.
11Justo González, “Reinventing Dogmatics:
A Footnote from a Reinvented Protestant,”
in Orlando Espín and Miguel Diaz (eds.), From
the Heart of the People (New York: Orbis, 1999),
228.
12H. George
Anderson, et. al. (eds.), The One Mediator, the
Saints, and Mary, Lutherans and Catholics in Dialogue VIII (Minneapolis:
Augsburg, 1992), p. 61 [emphasis added].
13Robert Jenson,
“A Space for God,” in C. Braaten and R. Jenson
(eds.), Mother of God (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2004), pp. 56-7.
14Elizondo & Friends, A
Retreat With Our Lady of Guad-alupe and Juan Diego
(Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1998), 81-82.
15Elizondo, Guadalupe: Mother
of the New Creation, 113-114.
[Emphasis added].
Maxwell
E. Johnson, PhD, is an ELCA pastor and professor of liturgy in the Dept. of
Theology at the Univ. of Notre Dame.
Portions of this address are adapted from his book, The Virgin of
Guadalupe: Theological Reflections of an Anglo-Lutheran Liturgist (Lanham,
Maryland: Rowman & Littlefield, 2002).