Dialogue and Liberation

The letter of invitation was to "A Dialogue Between First and Third World Theologians." I had sworn off most conferences some years ago, but this one looked promising. For five years Third World theologians from Latin America, Asia, Africa, and black America had been in dialogue on a regular basis, trying to do theology from a new starting point: the struggles of the poor and the oppressed.

Now, for the first time, EAT WOT (Ecumenical Association of Third World Theologians) was sponsoring a conference with theologians from the First World. It was not to be just another academic theological conference, said the letter, but a gathering of those from around the world who were actively engaged in struggles for justice and were reflecting theologically "from the grassroots" on that struggle.

The scene was Geneva. Despite the intention otherwise, the first few days were quite academic. The old style of rational, verbal, abstract theology still predominated. The tension that developed over this issue was not a First World-Third World tension, but rather arose between those teachers of theology in the seminaries and universities of the First and Third Worlds and the pastors, community organizers, and theologians who were closer to the struggles of the poor in both places.

Barriers built up over 500 years of colonial and imperialist history don't come down easily, even in an atmosphere where the participants have so much in common. Our theme was "Doing Theology in a Divided World," and the first divisions we encountered were those between ourselves.

Latin American theologians of liberation tended to stress the centrality of economic exploitation, the Asians emphasized religious and cultural oppression, while the Africans and black Americans saw racism as central. White women from the First World came with a strong feminist agenda, while Third World women spoke of their double oppression of being both women and of the Third World.

I was made painfully aware of how human the task of theology really is. James Cone said something to me over lunch one day that described well what I was feeling: "God doesn't do theology. Only people do theology."And a human bunch we were: we each carried within us the feelings, hurts, and scars of the divisions we were there to theologize about.

Even among those from the First World who had been deeply involved in struggles for justice for many years, there was still a certain balking, guilt, and holding back in the presence of the brothers and sisters from the Third World. These feelings of ambiguity and inner turmoil were shared by many delegates from Third World countries whose education and academic work had made them have to strive to stay close to the struggles of the oppressed people to whom they were so committed.

We all felt the oppression of words. "When will we stop shouting about these things?" one Third World observer remarked quietly to me as a statement was being read. Throughout most of the time participants expressed a need for more simple and human forms of communication, especially in language and styles common to the poor who were the constant subject of the dialogue. Occasionally, creative irruptions of dance, song, art, and poetry intruded into the dialogue, always moving, humanizing, and eye-opening.

A hunger surfaced during the time for a deeper spirituality, but one that is actively engaged in historical struggles for liberation. Old forms of piety and prayer were too often privatized, abstract, metaphysical; removed from the cry for justice, and ideologically manipulated to serve the status quo. But sometimes in rejecting the old forms of piety, those struggling for justice are left with little experience or language of personal faith and direction at all. Many lifted up the need for a new spirituality of liberation, both in order to deepen theological analysis and to sustain and nurture those in the middle of suffering and struggle. The Asian delegates, for whom spirituality and politics seem to be a most natural combination, contributed most significantly in this area.

Probably the most important part of the conference was, as usual, the connections made between people. New friendships brought me closer, at a feeling level, to struggles in the Philippines, South Africa, India, Brazil, Canada, Ireland, and many other places. It was around the edges of the meeting, during meals, breaks, small groups, walks, and late night talks that we shared human experience and established new bonds that will inform and nourish our struggles for justice.

Despite or perhaps because of the humanity and frailty of our dialogue, the closing liturgy especially moved me. We ended holding hands and singing an anthem of struggle born in the heart of the black experience in the United States and now sung all over the world: "Oh deep in my heart, I do believe, We shall overcome some day."

Jim Wallis is editor-in-chief of Sojourners.