2006 SSSR Presidential Address—Progressive Pentecostals: The New Face of Christian Social Engagement
2007; Wiley; Volume: 46; Issue: 4 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1111/j.1468-5906.2007.00370.x
ISSN1468-5906
Autores Tópico(s)Religion, Society, and Development
ResumoFor many scholars it is "old news" that Pentecostalism is growing exponentially, especially in the Southern Hemisphere (Cox 1995; Jenkins 2002; Martin 1990; Stoll 1990). What is not well understood is that many Pentecostal churches—especially in Africa, Asia, and Latin America—are involved in significant social ministries related to education, health care, and economic development. This defies the stereotype that Pentecostals are focused primarily on the life hereafter and that they are drawn to ecstatic forms of worship as compensation for their economic deprivation in this life (Anderson 1979). While this explanation may elucidate some growth of this very dynamic religious movement, it is also the case that an emergent number of Pentecostal and charismatic churches are engaging the social needs of people—both within their congregations and in the larger community. Indeed, based on my travel in over 20 developing countries, I believe that Pentecostals are often more creative in their response to human need than are many mainline Protestant and Catholic churches, including those that are inspired by Liberation Theology—which, unfortunately, seems to be a dying breed. As one knowledgeable person told me in Latin America, "Liberation Theology opted for the poor, and the poor opted for Pentecostalism." Six years ago, I joined forces with Tetsunao (Ted) Yamamori, the President of Food for the Hungry International, to study churches that (1) were located in the developing world—particularly in the global south, (2) were growing rapidly, (3) were indigenous and not dependent on foreign support, and (4) had active social ministries to members of their local community. In this constellation of elements we were running counter to much of the church growth literature, which has argued that evangelization and rapid growth are incompatible with what is oftentimes called the "social gospel." In an effort to identify case studies, we wrote to approximately 400 individuals around the world who we thought might be able to suggest congregations that would meet our criteria. When we compiled the responses to our inquiry, we were surprised that about 85 percent of the churches were Pentecostal or charismatic. This led us to a quick decision—we would study Pentecostal churches in Asia, Africa, and Latin America with a focus on their social ministries. In many ways this project defied the usual methodological canons—it would not be a random sample, the scope of the project was enormous, and we knew that Pentecostalism was a multifaceted phenomenon. But fortunately both Ted and I were in contact with a foundation that loves outrageously bold projects, and they gave us a substantial travel budget that enabled us for the next four years to spend about two months each spring visiting congregations in the global south as well as several former Soviet-dominated countries. When Ted and I first dreamed up this idea in a restaurant in Manila, we barely knew each other. But it was a marriage made in heaven. Ted had done a Ph.D. in sociology at Duke University when he first came to the United States from Japan, but, more importantly, he had 1,400 employees all over the world who were able to make logistical arrangements for us, so that when we stepped off the plane we were met with a driver and a translator, if necessary, and our initial interview arrangements had already been made. Typically within a few hours of landing, we were sitting in a pastor's office hearing him describe the history of his congregation and the church's ministry to the community. Then for the next week to 10 days we interviewed nonstop, attended worship services, went to cell group meetings, evangelism crusades, and, most importantly, we observed the various social ministries of the congregation. By the time the project was finished, we had traveled in 20 different countries, conducted more than 300 interviews, and had written extensive field notes on dozens of congregations. Initially, we were using old-fashioned technology: a tape recorder and notebooks for recording observations. But this changed on our very first trip as we were sitting in a Saturday worship service at Kampala Pentecostal Church in Uganda. There was a 100-member youth choir singing, accompanied by a first-class band, and the place was rocking. I pulled out my 35 mm camera and tried to take some pictures, but the results were completely inadequate. I was not capturing any of the dynamism of what was going on in this house of worship. After all, religion is not merely a matter of assenting to a set of beliefs. Pentecostal religion is something that involves the entire body. And so by the next trip I had equipped myself with a small video camcorder and then upgraded twice to more professional cameras—once out of necessity when my camera was stolen in Johannesburg. The bottom line methodologically is that I cannot imagine anyone doing ethnographic research today without using this new technology. Furthermore, in the future it seems to me that dissertations and books should fully incorporate this technology. In our book that was just published—Global Pentecostalism: The New Face of Christian Social Engagement (Miller and Yamamori 2007)—there is a DVD in the back cover, but I'm sure this will be viewed as retrograde technology as books, and hopefully journals such as this one, will increasingly have video, audio, and photos embedded directly within the text. As this occurs, our theoretical conceptualizations of religion will change because we will be able to move from a one-dimensional medium—namely, the written word—to multidimensional media that incorporate visual and auditory materials along with our conceptualizing prose. The only thing missing will be the tactile and olfactory senses, but new technology will perhaps address this issue as well. Last year was the centennial celebration of the Azusa Street revivals that launched Pentecostalism as a global movement (Hunter and Roebeck 2006; Roebeck 2006). In April 1906, William Seymour, an African-American preacher, began to practice many of the things he had heard from Charles Fox Parham in Huston, Texas, and that he had read about in the New Testament book of The Acts of the Apostles. People were healed, they spoke in other tongues, and they engaged in a form of ecstatic worship that offended the sensibilities of ordained clergy, the police, and the editors of the Los Angeles Times who published a front page article about this mix of white and black men and women "breathing strange utterances." From this rather humble beginning on 312 Azusa Street in downtown Los Angeles, Pentecostalism spread around the world in what is now the largest movement in Protestantism. Cautious estimates place the number of Pentecostals and charismatics at 250–300 million (Martin 2002). Bolder forecasts say there may be more than half a billion (Barrett 2001). Much of this growth is in the global south, which accounts for the claim that the locus of Christianity is being turned upside down—from Europe and the United States to nations in the Southern Hemisphere. But there is another interesting observation being made, which is that churches in the United States and Europe, especially those that are attracting young adults, have oftentimes incorporated Pentecostal characteristics into their worship (Miller 1997). Several decades ago, it would have been incomprehensible that Anglicans, Methodists, and even stoic Presbyterians would be raising their hands while soft rock choruses were being sung to the accompaniment of a praise band. And consider the emphasis on physical healing that is spreading through many churches—including some Jewish synagogues. While many scholars have classified Pentecostals as being good examples of the deprivation hypothesis, it is possible that Pentecostals may have leapfrogged the Enlightenment dualisms of mind and body that dominates most forms of American mainline religion, much in the same way that many people in the developing world now have better cell phone systems than those of us in countries that still rely on wires for our connectivity. Last year a major survey was released by the Pew Forum (2006) that gives us new insight into the extensive growth of Pentecostalism. Based on surveys in 10 countries in Africa (Kenya, Nigeria, South Africa), Asia (India, the Philippines, South Korea), and Latin America (Brazil, Chile, Guatemala), as well as the United States, it appears that Pentecostalism may be growing even faster than many scholars expected. Combining respondents who claimed to belong to Pentecostal denominations and churches, such as the Assemblies of God, the Church of God in Christ, or the Universal Church of the Kingdom of God, along with charismatic Christians who are Catholic and are from mainline Protestant churches, John Green and the researchers associated with the project created an umbrella term that they call "Renewalists," which describes both Pentecostal and charismatic Christians. According to these criteria, 60 percent of adults in Guatemala are Renewalists, as are 56 percent in Kenya, 49 percent in Brazil, 44 percent in the Philippines, and 23 percent in the United States. Some respected scholars, such as Paul Freston (2006), question these figures. For example, he believes there are about 350 million Pentecostals and charismatic Christians in the world, dividing up the total as follows: In Freston's view, Latin America overall, for example, is around 12 percent Protestant, with 70–75 percent of all Protestants being Pentecostal. Whether one takes the higher figures indicated by the Pew Forum survey, or Freston's more modest estimates, there is little doubt but what Pentecostal and charismatic expressions of religion are transforming Christendom—especially since Renewalists typically attend church at much higher rates than conventional Catholics, Protestants, or Orthodox Christians. When we first started this research project I shared the same set of misconceptions that fill the minds of most people whose knowledge is based on stereotypical images of Pentecostals found in Hollywood movies. While there is some truth to each of the three perceptions I list here, the reality is much more complex. First, while Pentecostals believe in the Holy Spirit, worship services are not always populated with people being slain in the spirit, speaking in tongues, prophesying, or having their crutches thrown away by faith-healers. These things happen in some churches, but they do not occur on a weekly basis in all Pentecostal churches, and sometimes these activities, when they happen, are relegated to small group meetings or special occasions. One of the surprising findings of the Pew Forum survey is that in six of the 10 countries surveyed, at least four in 10 Pentecostals say they never speak or pray in tongues. On the other hand, large majorities of Pentecostals say that they have experienced or witnessed divine healing of some form. A second stereotype about Pentecostals is that they are all lower-class, marginalized people for whom religion is an opiate. As is the case with the first stereotype, there is some evidence for this image. But it is not the whole story. While Pentecostalism was born among the poor, and much of its amazing initial growth was because it connected with impoverished people, including those with animistic religious backgrounds, Pentecostalism is attracting—indeed, one might say that it is creating or "growing"—a new class of more affluent and educated members. For example, in the Pew Forum survey, respondents tended to rate their financial situation as being very similar to non-Renewalists and sometimes substantially better. In South Korea, South Africa, and Nigeria, Pentecostals viewed themselves as being in considerably better financial shape than the general population. One obvious implication of this finding is that as Pentecostal and charismatic Christians are moving up the economic ladder they are also becoming more educated, and with this education they are increasingly sophisticated in responding to social problems in their communities. The third stereotype is that Pentecostals are so heavenly minded that they do no earthly good. Historically, it is true that Pentecostals were very otherworldly, with many of their members evangelizing their neighbors as they waited expectantly for the imminent return of Christ. This otherworldly characteristic of Pentecostalism, however, is changing. There is an emergent group of Pentecostals who are pursuing the integral or holistic gospel in response to what they see as the example of Jesus, who ministered both to people's physical needs as well as preached about the coming Kingdom of God. Again, the Pew Forum survey supports this hypothesis. For example, the vast majority of Renewalists believe that they have a responsibility to work for justice for the poor. Also, even on the question of AIDS, where the stereotype is that Pentecostals might say that the disease is punishment from God for sex outside of marriage, there is a definite split among respondents, with approximately half affirming this view and another half disagreeing. Also, Renewalists often mirrored the rest of society when asked to indicate where they were politically on a 10-point scale from extreme left to extreme right. And in nine of the 10 countries surveyed, at least half of the Pentecostals also say that religious groups should express their views on day-to-day social and political questions. In many ways the old stereotypes about Pentecostalism make life easy for social scientists who can explain the growth of this movement in terms of economic deprivation, anxiety about death, or the need for security in an unstable world. As we all know, Karl Marx viewed religion as an "opiate" that took the edge off the pain of life; Sigmund Freud thought religion was a fantasy-escape mechanism employed by weak people in search of security; Emile Durkheim believed that religious ritual, especially for "primitive" people, was a way of maintaining collective order. All of these views are rooted in deprivation theories of one sort or another and, indeed, they are helpful in explaining some aspects of the growth of Pentecostalism. The question, however, is whether viewing religion from a purely functional perspective is adequate, or whether it is important to add another variable to one's toolkit—namely, the role of the Spirit. Even though I am a noncharismatic, liberal Episcopalian—someone who once wrote a book entitled The Case for Liberal Christianity (Miller 1981)—I have become deeply suspicious of reductionistic and purely functional theories of religion. Increasingly, I think we might be well served to allow for the "S" factor (i.e., the Spirit) in attempting to understand social movements such as Pentecostalism. By including the "S" factor, I am not discounting in any way the role of social class, race and ethnicity, cultural worldview, or a myriad of other variables that help us understand social reality. Pentecostalism is an embodied religion, not just in worship, but in its incorporation of material culture. However, I must also confess to having witnessed things and interviewed people who claimed, among other things, to have been raised from the dead (along with witnesses who confirmed their statements), which gave me pause in relying strictly on naturalistic explanations of religious experience. But that is not the argument of this article—only an important aside. Rather, I believe we are witnessing a new development within the fastest growing religious movement in the world. Based on our visits to dozens of fast growing Pentecostal and charismatic churches in the developing world, I believe a paradigm shift has occurred in the last 10 to 15 years. Cutting across the various expressions of Pentecostalism is a new breed of churches that emphasize what theologians sometimes call the "integral" or "whole" gospel. These churches see no contradiction between a strong emphasis on evangelism and ministering to the social needs of people in their community. Indeed, they see social ministry as being at the heart of the Christian gospel—a responsibility for anyone who claims to follow the teachings and example of Jesus, who they see as regularly healing the sick, giving sight to the blind, and feeding those who were hungry. While Pentecostals have a long history of some involvement with the social needs of people—for example, feeding destitute children, caring for lepers, and building schools—this emphasis has typically been overshadowed by a belief in the imminent return of Christ and the apocalyptic and cataclysmic end of the world. Consequently, there was little incentive for transforming a world that was doomed to collapse—and probably within one's lifetime. But this antimony that belief in the second coming of Christ is incompatible with transforming social reality is being challenged, and especially in the last decade or two—even though the popular conception of Pentecostalism is that it is an otherworldly religion that has little relevance to contemporary social problems. Ted Yamamori and I struggled with what to call this emergent movement that we studied, but we finally settled on the label Progressive Pentecostalism. By employing the adjective "progressive," we do not mean to link Pentecostalism to any particular political movement, such as the Progressive Era in America (1890–1920). Rather, we wish to acknowledge by this term that Pentecostalism has often been otherworldly, emphasizing personal salvation to the exclusion of any attempt to transform social structures, whereas the movement we studied continues to affirm the apocalyptic return of Christ but also believes that Christians are called to be good neighbors, addressing the social needs of people. Stated somewhat abstractly, we define Progressive Pentecostals as Christians who, inspired by the Holy Spirit and the life of Jesus, seek to address holistically the spiritual, physical, and social needs of people in their community. It is impossible to quantify this emergent movement, but our guess is that the label applies to less than 15 percent of all Pentecostal churches if one is referring to congregations that explicitly articulate a commitment to social ministry. Excluded from our definition are congregations that may, on occasion, provide informal services to poor members of their congregations. Instead, we apply the term Progressive Pentecostalism to churches that are programmatic in their emphasis, developing ministries for people with AIDS, establishing community-based medical clinics, building schools, and providing other educational programs for children in the community, promoting economic self-sufficiency through micro loans, and so on. Another important element of our definition of Progressive Pentecostals is that their social ministries are available to everyone in the community and, therefore, they are not simply incentives for people to convert or join their church (e.g., so-called rice Christians), even though conversion may be a byproduct of the church's commitment to follow the teachings of Jesus. Although Progressive Pentecostals may be found in varying degrees in all of the previously mentioned categories of the Pentecostal movement, my feeling is that they are less likely to occur within the legalistic branches of the classical denominations as well as within Prosperity Gospel churches that are focused primarily on health and wealth. In our experience, Progressive Pentecostalism typically occurs more frequently within the nonlegalistic elements of denominations such as the Assemblies of God and in independent neo-Pentecostal churches. In addition, there are a growing number of independent churches with strong holistic ministries that do not explicitly identify with the Pentecostal tradition, but nevertheless share its emphasis on healing, the Holy Spirit, and an expressive style of worship. I am also including these churches in the fold of Progressive Pentecostals and the description that follows. In the course of our research we encountered numerous different expressions of social ministries. A partial listing includes the following: efforts to feed, clothe, and shelter people; drug rehabilitation programs; HIV/AIDS interventions; micro-enterprise loans, especially to women, to assist them in starting their own businesses; visitation of people in prison, as well as support systems for their families; attempts at family reunification, including divorce intervention and bridging programs between teenagers and their parents; pregnancy counseling; ministries to prostitutes and sex workers; medical and dental services; services to the elderly and handicapped; schools and educational assistance programs for children; residential programs for street children and orphans; efforts to counteract racial prejudice and other forms of discrimination; and the list continues. Some of the churches that we studied had only one or two of these social programs while other churches had a nearly comprehensive menu of social projects. This rather dizzying array of programs can be ordered under the following eight types of services, programs, or ministries: Mercy ministries (e.g., food, clothing, shelter); Emergency services (e.g., floods, famine, earthquakes); Education (e.g., day care, schools, tuition assistance); Counseling services (e.g., addiction, divorce, depression); Medical assistance (e.g., health clinics, dental clinics, psychological services); Economic development (e.g., micro enterprise, job training, affordable housing); Appreciation of the arts (e.g., music, dance, drama) Policy change (e.g., government corruption, community organizing, etc.). There is clearly some overlap among categories within this typology, but analytically it helps to distinguish activities that: (1) are primarily humanitarian in nature (such as feeding and clothing people) from programs (2) that are intended to serve people in moments of personal crisis (such as divorce, addiction, and depression) and (3) those that are attempting to promote community development and social transformation through education, economic development, and/or policy change. Based on our experience, many Pentecostal churches are involved in the first two categories of response, while an emphasis on community development and structural change are somewhat less frequent. The key variable in analyzing a church's social ministries is whether they are internally focused—that is, serving primarily members of the church community—or whether these activities are available to the broader community as well. As previously mentioned, to fit our definition of Progressive Pentecostalism, there needs to be some intentionality that these services are for the community, not just for members of the church. In addition, it is important that social ministry not be viewed in purely instrumental terms—that is, as a means of attracting new converts. A frequently cited scriptural reference for Progressive Pentecostals was Jesus' parable in Matthew 25 regarding the sheep and the goats, which has the punch line that not everyone who thinks he is entering the Kingdom of God will do so unless he or she has been feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and so on. More sophisticated Pentecostal reflection has emphasized the continuity between the kingdom that Jesus was preaching and the Kingdom of God that will be realized at the end of time; specifically, that the values Jesus embraced during his ministry on earth are the same values that Christians should seek to embody today in their pursuit of the Kingdom. Sociologically, the range and depth of social ministries within Progressive Pentecostal churches depend on a number of factors. An important variable is the size of the congregation. Most small congregations simply do not have the capacity to launch comprehensive programs. On the other end of the size spectrum, large congregations are sometimes able to fund nearly comprehensive social ministries from their own resources. And some churches, both small and large, are partnering with faith-based NGOs, such as World Vision, in developing educational, medical, and micro-enterprise programs. Clearly, one force that is driving the development of social ministries in Pentecostal churches is the poverty and social problems that are present in many communities where Pentecostal churches are located. To ignore street children or people dying of AIDS would be comparable to crossing to the other side of the street in the parable of the Good Samaritan, and if Pentecostals are strong on anything, it is reading their Bibles quite literally. In our four years of research we only encountered a few instances of Pentecostal congregations taking direct political action. The more likely scenario was for them to create alternative institutions rather than butt heads with what they typically perceived to be corrupt government officials. In this regard, Progressive Pentecostals differ substantially from organizing efforts inspired by Liberation Theology where the goal is to create systemic change. While Liberation Theology is inspired by Marxist theories related to power, conflict, and exploitation, Progressive Pentecostals, in contrast, tend to embrace an ethic of nonviolence and even nonconfrontation with civil authorities. Their operative strategy is to "grow" a new crop of civic, business, and educational leaders from the ground up with the hope that they will infiltrate these institutions and inspire a higher level of moral engagement. One criticism of Pentecostalism from a Marxist perspective is that its focus on transformation is too individualistic. For example, at the personal level we heard numerous accounts from converts who had experienced upward social mobility. Prior to becoming Pentecostal they were spending 30 percent of their income or more on gambling, drinking, and womanizing. After conversion they stopped these practices and started investing their money in petty businesses they operated, as well as in education for their family and medical care. One respondent in Manila said that after his conversion he went from selling cigarettes and candy on a small table at a street corner to opening several convenience stores, sending his children to university, and owning two cars. While this is a somewhat exceptional case, it is true that owners of factories and other businesses oftentimes hire Pentecostals because they are known for their honesty and hard work. In some countries, Pentecostals, compared to the general population, are disproportionately represented at lower management levels. But the Marxist criticism is that they simply become the tools of capitalist entrepreneurs. Therefore, the structural poverty that exists in many developing countries where Pentecostalism flourishes is not actually being addressed. On the other hand, I attended a church service in Guatemala of very poor indigenous people and was interested in the fact that the local pastor repeatedly stated in his sermon that the members have rights equal to everyone else in society because they were made in God's image. Similarly, in India I attended a 5:30 a.m. Bible study one weekday morning where several thousand low-caste people were present. They were hearing the same message as the congregation in Guatemala. It was not clear whether these individuals were, in fact, experiencing upward social mobility, but they certainly were being told—prior to heading off to a day of hard physical labor—that God loved them equally to everyone else in their community. Another attraction of Pentecostalism, particularly in societies where woman are oppressed, is that the cultural machismo of men is often challenged from the pulpit. After conversion, there is pressure for Pentecostal men to be more responsible fathers, to quit beating their wives, and to pay more attention to the needs of the family. If enough people hear this message and also give up their drinking, womanizing, and gambling, it is indeed possible that societal change may occur—albeit incrementally. One even has to wonder about the long-term impact of churches teaching the prosperity gospel. On one hand they seem subject to the Marxist view that poor people are being exploited by being promised future wealth—especially if they give sacrificially to the church. Also, one wonders how many prayers for healing go unfilled and whether those who recover from illness are benefiting primarily from the placebo effect. On the other hand, what happens when expectations are raised? When people are told that they do not need to exist in poverty? Is it possible that the philosophy of "health and wealth" could have unintended social consequences that Marxist analysts would never have predicted? Might the so-called drug of religion energize them to throw off the bonds that oppress them, or at least to elect someone from their own community who is running for political office, which is increasingly happening as Pentecostals move from marginal status to center stage? Indeed, the seismic shift occurring within Pentecostalism today is that, in many countries, they are no longer a tiny sect, putting up their defenses against the corrupt world outside. In a few places, such as Guatemala, they are the majority population, when taken in aggregate. In many other countries, they have broken the hegemony of the dominant faith tradition, such as Roman Catholicism, and have created a pluralistic society in which individuals are free to choose their religious option, rather than simply inherit it. In this regard, Pentecostalism is having a profound effect on society. In fact, another phenomenon that is just starting to occur is the reverse missionary movement in which Christians from the global south—mostly Pentecostals—are comi
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