A Poet/Theologian Worth Remembering: Ernest Cardenal of Solentiname

Ernesto Cardenal, a Nicaraguan priest, poet, and theologian, died last year at the age of 95. Although perhaps many of you haven’t heard of him, he is a man well worth remembering, so I am commending him to your attention. 

Ernesto Cardenal in 2009

Introducing Cardenal

Ellin Jimmerson is one of my Facebook friends. Among other things, Ellin self-identifies as an ordained Baptist minister, a liberation theologian, and an immigrant advocate (see here). She also is highly appreciative of Cardenal, who, she says, had an “immeasurable impact” on her theology.

On March 2 last year, the day after Cardenal’s death, Ellin wrote this succinct explanation of who he was:

Ernesto Cardenal of Nicaragua was a Roman Catholic priest, one of the most widely read poets in the Spanish language, . . . a supporter of the Sandinistas, Minister of Culture during the early years of the Sandinista Revolutionary government, and critic of Daniel Ortega in the years during which Ortega became increasingly authoritarian.

In 1965, Cardenal established a parish on the archipelago of Solentiname in Lake Nicaragua. The Gospel in Solentiname was published in four Spanish-language volumes between 1975 and 1977, all of which were translated into English (and issued in one volume in 2010).

Evaluating Cardenal

The Gospel in Solentiname contains radical readings of the gospels, stating that the God of the Bible is a God that sides with the poor, because God is love, and love can only exist in accordance with equality and justice.

Such was the basic belief of Cardenal and the majority of his parishioners, most of whom were “unlearned,” who agreed with their priest. But he was not so highly evaluated by the Catholic hierarchy.

Cardenal’s liberation theology placed him in staunch opposition to the dictatorial rule of Anastasio Somoza, the Nicaraguan dictator who was officially the President of that country for ten years between 1967 and 1979. The group that led the opposition was the Sandinistas.

According to Howard Zinn, the Sandinistas were “a coalition of Marxists, left-wing priests, and assorted nationalists” who “set about to give more land to the peasants and to spread education and health care among the poor” (A People’s History of the United States, p. 585).

The best known of those “left-wing” priests was Cardenal, and after the successful revolution by the Sandinistas in 1979, he became the Minister of Culture in the new government.

He was chastised by Pope John Paul II when the latter visited Nicaragua in 1983. “Probably the most famous image” of Cardenal, writes Robert Ellsberg in 2020, is the one below showing the Pope wagging his finger at the priest and telling him to withdraw from his revolutionary government post. 

The Sandinista government, which included Cardenal, was also not liked by the U.S. government, which had supported the Somoza dictatorship.

In 1985, following the 1984 elections in which Daniel Ortega was elected with two-thirds of the popular vote, Pres. Reagan declared an embargo on Nicaragua and that was followed by the “Iran-Contra affair,” illegal action by the Reagan administration in support of counterrevolutionary activity there.

Admiring Cardenal

In addition to my FB friend Ellin, there are many who continue to have great admiration for Cardenal.

I decided to write this article on Cardenal after reading Matthew Fox’s “daily meditation” for July 18 (see here). Fox began by sharing how Cardenal emphasized how we are all enveloped by cosmic love and beauty, and he cites these words of the Nicaraguan priest:

God surrounds us on all sides like the air. And like the atmosphere he emits visible and audible waves, and we are unable to see and hear them unless we are tuning in on the proper channels.

Fox also cites words of a poem by German liberation theologian Dorothee Sölle (1929~2003): “Ernesto Cardenal, / questioned on how he came to be a poet, a priest, / and a revolutionary, gave as his first reason / love of beauty.”

Yes, Ernesto Cardenal, who sought to liberate poor people from oppression and poverty and to liberate all of us from that which keeps us from seeing God, and beauty, is a person worth remembering with admiration and appreciation.

Pondering the Birth/Death of Jesus, the Slave

During the Christmas season, we sing/hear many hymns/carols. In the New Testament, though, there are few hymns. Philippians 2:6~11 is most likely one of those hymns, and there Jesus is referred to as a doulos, the Greek word for slave.

“The Christ Hymn”

The words of Philippians 2:6~11 are often called “the Christ Hymn,” and they are a significant summary of the nature of Jesus Christ’s existence. Verses 6~8 emphasize Jesus’ humiliation and verses 9~11 highlight his exultation.

Even though most English versions of the Bible translate the word doulos (in v. 7) as servant, its primary meaning is slave. And Jesus, the slave, ends up being crucified, which according to Black theologian James Cone is the equivalent of slaves and, later, their descendants during the Jim Crow years being lynched.

Those of us who grew up in evangelical churches, and those who are evangelicals today, see the first three verses mainly as linked to Jesus’ death on the cross as the means of providing atonement for sinful human beings.

Be that as it may, Jesus was crucified as a common criminal by the usual Roman means of capital punishment. Moreover, the Jews of Jesus’ day knew that the Hebrew Bible states that “anyone hung on a tree is under God’s curse” (Deuteronomy 21:23).

The last half of “the Christ hymn” emphasizes the inexplicable exaltation of the crucified Jesus. Certainly, both Jesus’ humiliation and his exaltation must be recognized and affirmed. Most of us, though, perhaps fail to grasp the full impact of the ignominy of Jesus’ being “lynched” as a dissident slave.

“The Gospel according to Mary Brown”

In July, a youngish blogger in California posted a long and thought-provoking blog article titled “The Cross and The Lynching Tree by Dr. James Cone.”

On pages 6-7 of his post, the blogger introduces W.E.B. Du Bois’s “The Gospel According to Mary Brown” and provides this link to the “Xmas 1919” issue of The Crisis magazine with, scrolling down, to Du Bois’s brief three-page story.  

Du Bois co-founded the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People in 1909 and long served as the founding editor of The Crisis, the official publication of the NAACP.**

In that 101-years-ago issue of The Crisis, Du Bois took the conventional Jesus story and brought it to his Black readers living in the Jim Crow South. He replaced Jesus with Joshua, a black baby born to a single mother (Mary Brown) sharecropping in the rural South.

That re-telling of the narrative about Jesus was consistent with a central point Du Bois had made in his The Souls of Black Folk (1903) and other essays. He condemned “white religion” as an “utter failure.”

As Cone points out in his book mentioned above, for Du Bois, true Christianity is defined by “the life and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth and the Golden Rule.” But, Du Bois emphasized, “the white church’s treatment of blacks was “sadly at variance with this doctrine” (Cone, pp. 103-4).

As we celebrate Christmas this year—in ways far different from usual because of the covid-19 pandemic—let’s celebrate not only the birth of Jesus as the Savior but also the one who came “to liberate the oppressed” (Luke 4:18, CEB).

In Du Bois’s story of Joshua, “the White Folk” were offended by what he said. They complained, “What do you mean by this talk about all being brothers—do you mean social equality?”

And they also said to Joshua, in Du Bois’s words, “What do you mean by saying God is you-all’s father—is God a nigger?"

These White Folk finally brought Joshua before a judge from the North—but he “washed his hands of the whole matter.” The White crowd then seized Joshua and lynched him.

Since in our land today 100 years later there are still problems of discrimination and oppression because of race and/or class, perhaps this is the “Christmas story” we need to hear and to ponder this week. What do you think?

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** My 9/15/18 blog post was written in honor of Du Bois (1868~1963).

In Praise of Dom Helder Camara

Just like Fred Korematsu, the subject of my previous blog article (found here), Helder Camara is similarly not a household name. But Camara, who was born ten years before Korematsu, is also a man well worth remembering with acclaim.

Introducing Dom Helder

Hélder Pessoa Câmara was born on February 7, 1909, in northeastern Brazil. From an early age, he played at saying Mass; when he was only eight or nine years old, he talked about becoming a priest. At age 14 he entered the seminary and was ordained eight years later, in August 1931.

Dom Helder, as he was usually called in Brazil, had 54 years of active ministry, including 21 years as an archbishop, before his retirement in 1985. Twenty years ago, in August 1999, he died at the age of 90.

The Washington Post article announcing Camara’s death referred to him as “a former Brazilian Catholic archbishop and proponent of Liberation Theology who became a noted human rights crusader and champion of agrarian reform.”

Dom Helder was a tireless advocate for and friend of the poor and marginalized people in his native country and around the world. Here are his most widely-cited words:  

Learning from Dom Helder

Through the years I saw various references to Camara and was impressed by what I read by and about him. Now that I have just finished reading the book Dom Helder Camara: Essential Writings (2009), I am even more impressed.

Camara championed liberation theology, which has often been charged with inciting violence. But Dom Helder was a man of peace. He declared,

We, as Christians, are on the side of nonviolence, and this is in no way an option for weakness and passivity. Opting for nonviolence means to believe more strongly in the power of truth, justice, and love than in the power of wars, weapons, and hatred (p. 81).

Dom Helder was also a poet. I like this poem that expresses the type of man he was:

If you disagree with me,
you have something to give me
if you are sincere
and seek the truth
as best you may,
honestly, with modest care,
your thought is growth
to mine, correction,
you deepen my vision.

(pp.99-100)

As an archbishop, Camara often faced large audiences that applauded and cheered him. He wrote that at such times, “I turn to Christ and say to him simply: ‘Lord, this is your triumphal entry into Jerusalem! I am just the little donkey you are riding on!’ And it’s true” (p. 145).

Would that all God’s servants and church leaders had that sort of humility!

Praising Dom Helder

Although Dom Helder was a small man, barely five feet tall, he had a large following of admirers. He was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize three times. The Brazilian military dictatorship, his constant adversary, actively worked again his receiving that award, and they were successful.

Nevertheless, Francis McDonagh, who wrote the Introduction to the book of Dom Helder’s writings, reports, “In compensation, Norwegian churches and NGOs awarded him a ‘People’s Peace Prize’ in 1974, one of twenty-one international awards and eighteen degrees that testified to the esteem in which he was held by the international community” (p. 33).

One such noteworthy recognition was the Pacem in Terris Award, which he received in 1975—ten years after it was awarded to MLK, Jr., and the year before it was given to Mother Teresa.

Camara’s dream of the liberation of the poor and the creation of a fully just society hasn’t yet become a reality any more than MLK’s dream has, but people of goodwill must keep that dream alive and actively work toward its fulfillment.

TTT #4 The Holy Spirit is God’s Universal Presence in the World and is Not Limited to Those Who Know Jesus

Christians have traditionally understood God as being “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” The first two chapters of Thirty True Things Everyone Needs to Know Now [TTT] were about the “Father,” and the previous one was about Jesus Christ, the “Son.” Now we turn our attention to the enigmatic “Holy Spirit.”

Grasping at the Wind

Trying to understand the Holy Spirit is like grasping at the wind—and, indeed, the Hebrew word ruach and the Greek word pneuma can be translated “breath” or “wind” as well as “spirit.”

Some Christians tend to think of the Holy Spirit being active in the world only after the resurrection of Jesus. This is largely because of Jesus’ promise of the coming Spirit (such as in John 15:26) and the events recorded in the second chapter of Acts.

There are many references to the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament, however, and some even think that the first reference to the Spirit is in Genesis 1:2. (Is it the Spirit, or just the wind, moving over the waters in the creation story?) 

The Church’s creed of A.D. 381 spoke of the Holy Spirit proceeding “from the Father.” But in the sixth century, the Church in the West added one (Latin) word: filioque (“and the Son”).

That word became a point of division between the Church in the West (Roman Catholicism) and the Church in the East (Eastern Orthodox). But the eminent German Lutheran theologian Jϋrgen Moltmann rejects the addition of filioque—and for good reason (see his The Spirit of Life, 1992).

The Holy Spirit is linked from the beginning to the eternal Word (Logos), and not just to Jesus.

The Go-Between God

John V. Taylor, a distinguished Anglican missionary and theologian, was the author of the seminal book The Go-Between God (1963). Taylor convincingly contends that all of creation is a result of the movement of the Spirit and everything is related to God because of the Spirit.

That certainly doesn’t mean that everyone is aware of their relationship to the Spirit. But the Spirit is aware of everyone!

Here again we are confronted with the problem of the universal and the particular—and again I agree with Taylor when he avers that “the Holy Spirit is universally present through the whole fabric of the world, and yet uniquely present in Christ and, by extension, in the fellowship of his disciples” (pp. 180-1; italics in the original).

The Holy Spirit, we might say, leaves footprints of God all over the world, and people from all ages and in all parts of the world, to varying degrees, see those tracks.

The Spirit of Truth and of Freedom

Three times in the Gospel of John we find the words “the Spirit of truth,” and also according to John, Jesus declared that “the truth shall set you free.” Further, the Apostle Paul also declares that “the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (1 Cor. 3:17).

In the first chapter, I indicated that “all truth is God’s truth.” It can also be asserted that because of the Spirit, all freedom is God’s freedom. Thus, the work of the Spirit can be linked to the core assertions of the theologians of liberation.

Black theologian James Cone, for example, avers that “God’s revelation in Jesus Christ is identical with the presence of his Spirit in the slave community in struggle for the liberation of humanity” (God of the Oppressed, rev. ed., p. 181).

Thank God that the Spirit, known uniquely through Jesus Christ, can also be known universally throughout the whole world!

[Please click here to read the entire fourth chapter of TTT.]

The Making of Saint Oscar

It was 35 years ago, on March 24, 1980, that Archbishop Óscar Romero of San Salvador was assassinated, but he has been back in the news this year. After much hesitation, the Catholic Church is now moving toward making him a saint.

Even though masses of the common people of El Salvador had no question about it, Romero’s martyrdom was not officially recognized until Pope Francis did so last month. And then last week it was announced that Romero will be beatified on May 23. So before long there will most likely be a Saint Oscar.

Romero was born in 1917 in rural El Salvador. (I was interested to learn that I was born on his 21^st birthday.) He studied for the priesthood in Rome and was ordained there in 1942. After serving as a parish priest back in his home country, he was appointed bishop of a poor, rural diocese in 1974. Then just three years later he became Archbishop of San Salvador.

His appointment as archbishop came as a disappointment to the progressive priests of El Salvador, for at that time Romero was quite conservative and traditional. But things soon began to change.

Less than three weeks after becoming archbishop, Fr. Rutilio Grande, his good friend and a progressive Jesuit priest who was working with the poor, was assassinated. Grande’s death had a profound impact on Romero, who later stated, “When I looked at Rutilio lying there dead I thought, ‘If they have killed him for doing what he did, then I too have to walk the same path.’”

Grande’s assassination triggered what some have called Romero’s “conversion” to liberation theology. As John Dear, the Jesuit peace activist I wrote about previously, said (in an excellent 2010 article in the National Catholic Review), “Romero was transformed into one of the world's great champions for the poor and oppressed.”

My longstanding admiration increased this month as I watched the documentary “Monsigñor” with a group that gathered at the Guardian Angels Catholic Church in Kansas City and listened to comments by Fr. Michael Gillgannon, who was a missionary in Latin America for over 30 years.

And then June and I watched the 1989 movie “Romero” for the second (or maybe third) time. It is a most engaging movie that I highly recommend. Its portrayal of the last few years of the Archbishop’s life is in harmony with Scott Wright’s excellent biography “Oscar Romero and the Communion of the Saints” (2009).

According to Fr. Dear (I’m very sad to note),

When President Jimmy Carter announced in February 1980 that he was going to increase U.S. military aid to El Salvador by millions of dollars a day, Romero was shocked. He wrote a long public letter to Carter, asking the United States to cancel all military aid. Carter ignored Romero’s plea, and sent the aid. (Between 1980 and 1992, the U.S. spent $6 billion to kill 75,000 poor Salvadorans.)

(Romero’s letter to Pres. Carter can be found here. Dear’s statement may be somewhat inflated; a more objective statement is found in a 1993 article, “US Policy in El Salvador.”)

The very next month, Romero was shot and killed while celebrating Mass. The assassin was part of the death squad formed and directed by Roberto D'Aubuisson, who was trained at the School of the Americas, moved to Fort Benning, Georgia, in 1984.

U.S. policy may not have changed so much since 1980, but the Vatican has changed during the last two years under Pope Francis. So, thankfully, Romero is now in the process of being made Saint Oscar.

Who is Jim Kim (and Why Should We Care)?

Jim Yong Kim may not be a household name, but he is a man worth knowing about. On April 16 he was elected to a five-year term as president of the World Bank, a position of considerable significance.

Born in Seoul (South Korea) in 1959, Jim moved with his family to the U.S. at the age of five and grew up in Iowa. He graduated magna cum laude from Brown University in 1982, and then earned an M.D. degree from Harvard Medical School in 1991 and a Ph.D. from Harvard University, Department of Anthropology, two years later.

I first learned of Dr. Kim several years ago when I read Tracy Kidder’s engaging book Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, A Man Who Would Cure the World (2003). Kim worked with Farmer and others in Haiti, and in 1987 they co-founded Partners in Health (PiH), a very effective non-profit health care organization. Kim became the executive director of PiH and served in that capacity until 2003.

Kim left PiH to join the World Health Organization (WHO) as an adviser to the director-general. Since he had success creating programs to fight HIV/AIDS at PiH, in March 2004 he was appointed as director of WHO’s HIV/AIDS department and served in that position until 2006.

In addition to the above, in 1993 Dr. Kim began serving as a lecturer at Harvard Medical School and eventually held professorships in medicine, social medicine, and human rights. At the time of his departure from Harvard in 2009, Kim was Chair of the Department of Global Health and Social Medicine.

Kim was named the president of Dartmouth College in March 2009, becoming the first Asian-American to assume the post of president at an Ivy League school. He will leave that position to assume the headship of the World Bank on July 1.

Kim’s nomination to the World Bank by President Obama was somewhat of a surprise, for Kim’s background is quite different from that of most World Bank presidents, who are usually experienced in finance and politics.

The World Bank, which was formed in 1944, expresses its mission in these words: “Our work is challenging, but our mission is simple: Help reduce poverty.”

In its early years in Haiti, the leaders of Partners in Health had direct contact with, and were in considerable agreement with, liberation theology. Even now the slogan of PiH is “providing a preferential option for the poor in health care.” As he assumes his new job, I hope Kim will be able to lead the World Bank to provide a preferential option for the poor in the world of finance as he seeks to reduce poverty around the world.

(Unfortunately, in the U.S. there seems to be a preferential option for the rich, and the Republican Senators would not even allow the “Buffet rule” to be discussed on the Senate floor last week.)

“I can think of no one better able than Jim to help families, communities, and entire nations break out of poverty, which is the mandate of the World Bank,” said fellow PiH co-founder (and Harvard University Professor) Dr. Paul Farmer.

Let us wish Dr. Jim Yong Kim well in his new, important, and very difficult job.

Does the End Justify the Means?

A simple question: is it right or wrong, ethical or unethical, to slit open someone’s abdomen?

Some might quickly say, No, of course not! But those who are more discerning are likely to say, Well, it depends on why such a thing is done. Precisely!

Consider three scenarios: (1) In a squabble with a person you don’t like, you become angry, grab a knife, lunge at him and slit open his abdomen. Can such a violent act be justified? Probably not.

(2) A crazed killer/rapist has entered your house intent on doing harm to your wife/family. In an attempt to protect them, you grab a knife and in the ensuing struggle you manage to stop his evil intentions by slitting open his abdomen. Can such a violent act be justified? Perhaps. Or, maybe, probably.

(3) You are an obstetric surgeon, and a woman in hard labor but unable to give birth vaginally is brought to you. It is right/ethical for you to slice open her abdomen in order to perform a Cesarean operation. Certainly.

So here is the next question: does the end justify the means? The answer, of course, depends on what end you are talking about. In the three scenarios given above, the same “means” was used. But the ends were much different.

Thus, as Saul Alinsky wrote in his much maligned (by conservatives) book Rules for Radicals, “Means and ends are so qualitatively interrelated that the true question has never been the proverbial one, ‘Does the End justify the Means?’ but always has been ‘Does this particular end justify this particular means?” (p. 47; this is the final paragraph of the chapter titled “Of Means and Ends”).

(If you want to read a good article about Saul Alinsky, in addition to my January 30^th posting[!], check out “Saul Alinsky, Who?” by Bill Moyers and Michael Winship at this link.)

So what about violence? Does Alinsky advocate using violent means in order to attain desirable ends? Maybe in some situations. But don’t most people? As he correctly points out, “in war the end justifies almost any means” (p. 29). How else has this nation, or any nation, justified participation in war?

But what about violence done by the poor and oppressed people of any country? Criticism of the “end justifies the means” argument is most often used by those who oppose those who use violent means against those in power and/or with wealth. This is one of the perennial criticisms of liberation theology in Latin America.

It is quite revealing to consider how so often those with wealth and/or power complain about (and seek to counteract, often by violent means) violence done by the “radicals” seeking social justice but how so seldom the same people show much concern for the great violence being done to the poor and underprivileged people in society.

Alinsky also contends that “means-and-ends moralists” are “non-doers” who “always wind up on their ends without any means” (p. 25).

And make no mistake about it: there is, in our country and in countries around the world, a great deal of structural violence embedded in society and many people have suffered greatly because of that violence.

I advocate seeking to find and to use non-violent means to combat that structural violence. But I find it difficult to be too critical of those who are so desperate that they resort to violent means to attain ends that are necessary to their, or their children’s, very survival.

So What About Liberation Theology?

My previous blog posting was partly about Bartolomé de las Casas (1484–1566), the Spanish colonialist, Dominican priest, and human rights advocate, and I referred to Las Casas as a liberator, which he certainly was.

Perhaps the best book ever written about that ardent advocate of the rights of the native peoples of the West Indies is Las Casas: In Search of the Poor of Jesus Christ (1993), written by the Peruvian priest Gustavo Gutiérrez. (That book is nearly 700 pages long, including 160 pages of endnotes!)

Gutiérrez (b. 1928) is often referred to as the “father” of South American liberation theology. His book on that subject was published in Spanish in 1971, and two years later it was issued in English translation as A Theology of Liberation. (A fifteenth anniversary edition with a new introduction by the author was published in 1988.)

This past summer, Glenn Beck, the widely influential radio and television host, political commentator, and author, publicly denounced liberation theology—and criticized President Obama for being linked to liberation theology through his former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright. Beck declared that “liberation theology has completely perverted Christianity and teaching something radically different.”

The liberation theology of Rev. Wright was based on the writings of Dr. James Cone rather than of Father Gutiérrez, and there are certainly differences between the two. (To see what I have written about the two American-American Christian leaders, click on James Cone and Jeremiah Wright in the Labels list on the right.)

Despite their differences, there are also distinct similarities between Cone and Gutiérrez. Although it is a phrase used mostly by South American liberation theologians, Cone, Wright, and others advocating black liberation would agree with the statement, “to know God is to do justice.” And the justice referred to is social justice, which stands in staunch opposition to the exploitation of the poor by the rich and the prejudicial treatment of Blacks by the White majority.

As you probably heard, Beck also came out with strong criticism of Christians being involved in social justice. Back in March, Beck said on one of his daily radio and television shows, “I beg you, look for the words ‘social justice’ or ‘economic justice’ on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words. Now, am I advising people to leave their church? Yes!” Later, he referred to social justice as “a perversion of the Gospel.”

But it seems quite clear to me that in 1492 and the years following it was Columbus who was perverting the Gospel, not Las Casas. And in recent years it is Glenn Beck, rather than Gutiérrez or other liberation theologians, who is distorting the Gospel. For after all, social justice is “love distributed.”

What about “Illegal Aliens”?

Asia Sunday is a yearly event sponsored by the Christian Conference of Asia (CCA). The CCA was founded in 1959, but it was called the East Asia Christian Conference until 1973. One of its main purposes has been, and still is, “the promotion and strengthening of the unity of the church in Asia.” (You can learn more about the CCA here.) I still have good memories of attending the 8^th General Assembly of the CCA held in Seoul in 1985.

Last month the 13^th General Assembly of the CCA was held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. The theme of that gathering was “Called to Prophesy, Reconcile, and Heal,” and the key Bible passage was Luke 4:14-30.

For many years now, the CCA has designated the Sunday before Pentecost “Asia Sunday,” so my sermon at the Hirao Baptist Church on May 16 was linked to that event and my message was based on Luke 4, since the same scripture and theme were used for Asia Sunday as for the CCA Assembly.

On May 2 when Dr. Tom Sine preached at Second Baptist Church, he used the first part of the Luke 4 passage about Jesus in the synagogue at Nazareth. But the climax of that passage is when Jesus began to talk favorably about Gentiles. It was Jesus’ affirmation of God’s preferential treatment of the “foreigners” that ticked off Jesus’ hearers and got him run out of town.

The problem of undocumented immigrants has been much in U.S. news recently, especially because of the new law in Arizona. It some ways, it is hard for me to join the widespread opposition to that law, for it is basically what we lived with in Japan for thirty-eight years. During all those years we had to carry an Alien Registration Certificate or be subject to detention until such was produced.

For many years now “illegal aliens” have been a problem in Japan, with more than half of those being from Korea, China, and the Philippines, although the total number and also the percent of fuho taizaisha is far, far less than in the U.S.

Is there any difference if we look at the “illegals” from the standpoint of Christian faith (with love and compassion) as opposed to seeing them from the viewpoint of an American (or Japanese) citizen? Does God favor keeping desperately poor people out of the United States (or Japan, or other of the wealthier countries) and punishing those who are not able to enter legally?

Or as the liberation theologians like to say, does God have a preferential option for the poor? And if so, what should we think and do in response?

Is Giving Alms Enough?

This is my follow-up to the posting about “The Amazing Booths” (Dec. 8). As I indicated then, I have the highest admiration for William and Catherine Booth and for the work of the Salvation Army, which they founded. I also have deep appreciation for local organizations, such as Harvesters, Love INC, and In As Much Ministry, and for those who volunteer to work with and who support those worthwhile groups.

But the question I raise is this: is giving alms (food, clothing, and other necessary items) enough? On the one hand, at the beginning the Booths and those who worked with them thought giving physical assistance was not enough, for they also expected those who received material help to receive spiritual help as well.

“Soup, Soap, and Salvation” was a slogan long associated with the Salvation Army. But now the Salvation Army, as well as the other organizations I mentioned, seem to place little emphasis on salvation, in the sense traditionally understood by evangelical Christians.

The main question that I have about groups that conduct praiseworthy charitable activities, though, is this: should they work more on the cause of poverty and physical needs instead of just focusing on the current needs of the persons they minister to?

Certainly, people need help now, and in no way do I want to belittle the assistance given the needy by organizations like the ones listed above. But the causes of poverty need to be addressed seriously also. But how can that be done effectively? Here we face strongly opposing ideas.

Hélder Câmara (1909-99) was a Brazilian priest who became an archbishop. You probably have heard his oft-quoted words: ““When I gave food to the poor, they called me a saint. When I asked why the poor were hungry, they called me a communist.”

Other South American priests who espouse “liberation theology,” a theology seeking to find ways to free people from extreme poverty and oppression, are, in fact, Marxists to a degree. They, of course, do not accept Marxist ideology or atheism, but they understand history largely as class struggle. And they believe that systemic changes must be made for the sake of the poor. The liberation theology they developed stresses God’s “preferential option for the poor.”

Liberation theology, both the South American version and the Africa-American version in the U.S., is sometimes criticized as fostering violence. I in no way condone violence, but I am far more opposed to the violence done against the poor of South America or against the African-Americans in this country than I am of the violence committed by desperate people. And it is unquestionable, I think, that there is systemic violence. That is why the system needs to be changed.

With regard to societal change, the extremes seem to be conservative capitalism seeking to maintain the status quo on the one hand and Marxism/Communism seeking structural change by violent revolution on the other. As usual, I want a position between the extremes, and perhaps that position is best found in some form of democratic socialism, which I probably will write more about later.