On March 24, 1980, Oscar Romero stood at the altar of a small chapel in a Salvadoran hospital. He raised his arms to elevate the Host in one of the most solemn parts of the Eucharistic liturgy. As the unleavened bread was being mystically transformed to the body of Christ, Romero, Archbishop of San Salvador, was shot in the back by government soldiers. His blood mingled with the spilled wine on the white altar cloth. Romero had been assassinated for speaking out against the brutal repression, torture and injustice of El Salvador’s government. He was inspired by a growing movement in Latin America called “Liberation Theology.”
Romero, along with 8 Jesuits and many other priests and lay people, walked by faith into the sights of an oppressive regime’s guns despite the ambivalent attitude of the Catholic Church. They have been an inspiration and challenge to me to consider how my life might serve in a small way to change the conditions of poverty. So I was struck and disappointed to hear Richard Land, president of the Southern Baptist Convention’s Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission, on NPR this afternoon use the term “Liberation Theology” to broadly define what he understands to be the beliefs of those Christians in this country to whom he is opposed. What bothers me is that I believe Dr. Land would ignore the history and tradition of this movement in order to re-coin the term as a code for “Religious Socialism.” (Glenn Beck, at whose rally Dr. Land appeared, is very deliberate in making this leap. That’s all I’m going to say about Glenn Beck.)
The most striking statement of Dr. Land’s interview was his statement, “I reject collective salvation as an oxymoron.” What I find so remarkable is that Jesus, as a person steeped in the Judaic religious tradition, would not have ever entertained the idea that our salvation was anything but dependent on the life of our community. Again and again Jesus gives examples through actions and stories that overturn the notion that individuals can save themselves by adherence to the law. The law is the there to point us to a way in which we, together, can lift one another to salvation in love. In the prayer of St. Francis, we also see a call to service at the cost of our own lives, that in dying to our own desires — perhaps even our own desire for salvation — that we are born into new life.
But what the hell do I know? I’m neither a doctor nor the president of anything (although I did place a political ad in my High School yearbook: “Paid for by the Sanuk D for United States Senate Campaign.” I still think that is cool.) What I do know is that my condition is grim without other people and that my ability to connect with other people is grim without God. If I am wrong, and Jehovah all mighty comes down and tells me that it is just me and him and none of you really matter, I’m asking to get off the train to Glory. I’d rather be with you.