The biggest surprise is the spell spiritism has cast over the country.
“Latin America is a region of untold natural wealth and untold human misery.” Such is the evaluation of Derek Winter, former Baptist missionary in Brazil, in his Hope in Captivity (1977). Similarly, a UN report a few years ago described two-thirds of the population as “physically undernourished to the point of starvation in some regions,” while illiteracy varied in different countries between 20 percent and 60 percent, and millions had no medical care at all.
Brazil shares these problems, with its industrial achievements and modern cities on the one hand and its inhuman “favelas” (slums) on the other. And Brazil dominates the South American continent, for it encompasses nearly half the land mass of Latin America and is larger than the United States without Alaska. It is in the context of this enormous social need that the Christian churches are called to witness and to serve.
The biggest surprise awaiting the Christian visitor to Brazil is the spell spiritism has cast over the country. Its origin goes back to the African slaves who were imported in the middle of the sixteenth century to work on the sugar plantations. Today 15 percent of the population are negroes, and two of the most popular spiritistic cults—Macumba and Umbanda—are clearly Afro-Brazilian. Other types give evidence of Hindu influence, especially Kardecism (named after the Celtic poet Alan Kardec), which teaches Karma and reincarnation. The greatest tragedy, however, is not spiritism’s mixture of African and Asian religions, but its identification of the deities of African traditional religion with Christian saints, and the weakness of the Roman Catholic Church in tolerating such syncretism.
The popularity of spiritistic cults has been variously explained. Some trace it to the hunger for transcendence many churches are failing to satisfy; others to the desire for physical healing, personal blessing, or business success that spiritism promises; while the many educated people who have embraced it appreciate its offer of a complete world view, without too many embarrassing ethical demands, and even claim that it is the logical completion of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. It presents one of the biggest challenges to Christianity in Brazil, for there are said to be about half a million active mediums, 15 million professed members, and (according to some) a fringe following of up to 50 million, which is approaching half the population of the country.
Ever since Pedro Alvaras Cabral took possession of Brazil in 1500 in the name of the king of Portugal, however, it has been overwhelmingly Roman Catholic in its nominal allegiance. Today at least three different forms of Catholicism compete with one another—traditional, charismatic, and revolutionary. Traditional Catholicism continues to give Protestants big problems. True, the era of physical violence to Protestant churches, pastors, and members has passed. Also without doubt there is some sincere Catholic devotion to Christ. Yet popular syncretism and superstition remain rife, particularly in relation to the virgin Mary and the saints, and are deeply distressing to the evangelical conscience. One fears that Pope John Paul II on his forthcoming visit, because of his outspoken veneration of Mary, will not speak out (as he should) against those attitudes and practices that undermine the sufficiency of Jesus Christ. Instead, perhaps the growing movement of Catholic charismatics, whose personal commitment to Christ appears to be very real, will register their protest against everything that is derogatory to his unique glory.
Liberation theology, a largely Roman Catholic phenomenon, is said to have given birth to “a new breed of Christians.” It has to be understood against the background of the colossal social problems of Latin America. The Roman Catholic bishops expressed themselves on these problems at their two most recent meetings, namely at Medellín in Colombia (strongly) and at Puebla in Mexico (less strongly), and in 1970 the Brazilian bishops, meeting in Brasilia, urged their government to initiate social reforms, give the opposition a voice, and investigate allegations of torture. Blanket approvals and disapprovals of liberation theology are equally inappropriate; what is needed is a critical evangelical assessment. I will make only three basic points.
First, we should have no quarrel with the goal of human liberation. On the contrary, with our biblical doctrine of the created dignity of human beings, everything that dehumanizes should arouse our indignant opposition, and everything that humanizes, our enthusiastic support. Our criticism is that liberation theologians tend either to emphasize humanization at the expense of salvation or even to equate the two.
Second, we should welcome these theologians’ insistence on “praxis,” that is, on active Christian involvement on behalf of all needy and oppressed people. For, as Paul put it, “faith works through love.” We should therefore agree with Professor José Miguez Bonino in his Doing Theology in a Revolutionary Situation (1975) that “love … demands efficacy. It is not content to express and demonstrate, it intends to accomplish” (p. 114). Our criticism concerns the form this commitment will take. I for one accept neither that Marxism is “the unavoidable historical mediation of Christian obedience” (Miguez, p. 98), nor that revolutionary violence is the way to secure justice for the oppressed.
Third, the evangelical debate with liberation theologians needs to focus on the hermeneutical question. They are right to urge us to scrutinize more critically our cultural presuppositions, since our theologians often mask our ideologies. But I do not find them equally suspicious of their own hidden ideological presuppositions, and sometimes their biblical exegesis appears to be totally unprincipled.
Although the Dutch invaded Brazil in the second quarter of the seventeenth century, Protestantism in general reached Latin America between 1870 and 1890. Church historians criticize its arrival for having been just as “colonial” as the introduction of Portuguese Catholicism in the sixteenth century: the European Protestant churches brought their ecclesiastical culture with them. Moreover, those churches that have clung to their traditions and have failed to become authentically Brazilian are in steady decline today. The two Protestant church groups that continue to experience growth are the Baptists and (especially) the Pentecostals. The Brazilian Baptist Church registered an 8.8 percent growth in 1978, has doubled its membership in eight years to about half a million baptized members, and hopes to double it again by 1982, its centenary year. This denomination has more than 4,000 churches, and 72 missionaries in other lands.
Most of us are aware of the phenomenal explosion of the Pentecostals, but may not have inquired into its causes. They attribute it, of course, to the work of the Holy Spirit. But since he uses means, it is not improper to ask what these have been, particularly in relation to the alternatives of Catholicism, spiritism, and Marxism.
First, Latin American Pentecostalism has been described by Lalive D’Epinay as a “haven of the masses.” Certainly most of its members are peasants and workers, socially marginalized people who have found security and significance in their church. Second, Brazilian Pentecostalism is very evidently not a foreign import, but genuinely indigenous and exuberantly Latin, as its worship and music testify. Third, both Catholicism and spiritism have accustomed Brazilians to an easy acceptance of the supernatural, and Pentecostals take it for granted that exorcism and healing are readily available through the power of the Holy Spirit. Fourth, the doctrine of the Body of Christ is so central to their beliefs that they encourage lay ministries and expect every church member to be active in evangelism.
Although there have been seemingly endless splits, which to me are regrettably schismatic, yet these have also enabled charismatic leaders to develop their own spheres of service (as in the African Independent Churches) and so have contributed to church growth. Our prayer should be that, in addition to evangelists, God will give conscientious pastors and teachers to these churches, so that their members may become stable, holy, and mature in Christ.
My visit to Brazil last January was sponsored by the Aliança Biblica Universitaria do Brasil, the Brazilian Inter-Varsity movement. Founded officially in 1963, it has active groups in the universities and high schools of more than 60 cities. It seeks to minister to students caught in the conflict between the old world and the new. They and the Christian graduates or “professionals” constitute a fine resource for the future Christian leadership of their country.
John R. W. Stott is rector emeritus of All Souls Church, London, England.