Thinking Otherwise: Decoloniality, Knowledge, and Legitimacy

My decolonial journey starts with how I see myself: as a woman descended from Native peoples and as a Christian theologian who reflects on God. I recognize that both are part of who I am. For years, I have struggled to affirm both sides of my identity and to value my own existence without feeling forced to choose between them.

I start with my own story, my family, and my roots. I look to my community, the land, and the histories that have shaped us. As a theologian, I ask how I can pay attention to these experiences and do a theology from Abya Yala that brings together ancestral knowledge, Christian beliefs, and spiritual practices. I want to do this without diminishing any part, but instead with humility.

This is where I start to think otherwise.

I did not approach decoloniality in search of a theory. Instead, the everyday experiences of Abya Yala and its colonial history raised questions I could not ignore: What happens when people whose knowledge has been overlooked become the main voices in creating knowledge?

This question has had a strong impact on my theological work. I have learned that theological knowledge does not come only from seminaries, books, or universities. It is also grounded in memory, land, spirituality, community, struggle, and daily life. My experience in both psychology and theology has shown me this clearly. The words we use to talk about religious identity, spirituality, and theology are never neutral. They reflect certain histories, beliefs, and power structures that shape whose knowledge is valued, whose voices are heard, and which ways of knowing are seen as legitimate.

First, I no longer see Native people and their spiritual practices only as subjects to be studied. Native people and communities should also be recognized as creators of theological knowledge.

Second, I have stopped seeing knowledge as something universal and now understand it as connected to specific places, histories, and times. What is often called “universal knowledge” usually comes from a Eurocentric point of view, a particular history and culture that has claimed the right to speak for everyone. Decolonial thinking in Abya Yala encourages us to look back to our roots and see that our ancestral knowledge and ways of knowing are valuable on their own.

Third, I have moved from focusing mainly on written texts to valuing knowledge that comes from lived experience. I now question why written theology is often seen as more important than knowledge that comes from daily life and community. Oral histories, ancestral memories, women’s stories, rituals, connections to the land, everyday spirituality, and Indigenous ways of knowing are also important sources for theology.

These changes have influenced both the questions I ask and how I write. Now I pay as much attention 

to where the knowledge comes from, whose voices are missing, and how power works through academic language and institutions as I do to the idea itself.

In recent years, when I present about Abya Yala theology, I often face tough questions: “Is this Christianity?” “Is this syncretism?” “Is this theology?” Sometimes, these questions show the limits of the categories used to judge a theology who embrace Native spiritual practices and identity.

This means we have to both unlearn and learn. Decolonial theology is not something we finish and leave behind. It is an ongoing process of questioning the ideas we have inherited and showing that there are other ways to do theology.

A major change for me came when I stopped asking how Native spiritualities could fit into Christian categories. Instead, I began to think about God without limiting God to one culture or theological framework.

This change has been especially important in my work with women doing theology in Abya Yala. Their work challenges the idea that Christianity must always be defined by categories from certain historical and cultural backgrounds. For those of us who identify with our Native ancestry and histories, this process gives us new freedom to think about God in broader ways and to reject the idea that there is only one right way to understand faith, spirituality, or theology.

The world is not made up of just one story or one way of knowing. There are many ways to live, interpret, remember, and practice theology.

Sometimes this work means explaining why the knowledge of marginalized communities should be heard. At other times, the challenge takes place within academic spaces, where we must insist that knowledge also emerges from the peripheries. Communities that have historically been treated as objects of study are also places where knowledge is created, preserved, and transmitted.

Because of this, I am careful about how often I use the word “decolonial.” It can easily become just another academic label, like decolonial curriculum, decolonial theology, or decolonial pedagogy. But changing our words does not always change our systems. Decolonization is not just about adding new authors to the same tradition. If we change the reading list but the power structures stay the same, then not much has really changed.

So, the real test of decolonial thinking is whether it comes from and works with others. Decolonial theology in Abya Yala must join with Native peoples who have resisted the colonization of their bodies, lands, cultures, and knowledge, and who keep their spiritual practices alive. It must also include the experiences of Afro-descendant peoples, whose histories of enslavement, resistance, and liberation have created their own forms of knowledge and theological reflection.

For me, it always helps to ask a few basic questions: Who is included? Who is heard? Whose knowledge is valued? Who decides? And what kinds of knowledge do our institutions see as legitimate?

For me, thinking otherwise is more than just thinking differently. It means making space for theologians like me, who need to start by naming our ancestral histories and where we come from before sharing our theology. From there, it becomes possible to see why the theology we offer can truly be decolonial.

Maybe decolonial theology always starts with a question: Where does this theologian begin, and who are they learning from?

Only by asking these questions can we start to understand what it means to think otherwise. 

Yenny Delgado

The Unexpected Treasure: God Came to the Margins of Abya Yala

By Eliezer E. Burgos-Rosado 

The story of Nativity is part of our faith’s DNA. We have heard it so many times we risk domesticating it, rendering it inoffensive. Yet when it is viewed from the margins—from the impoverished, racialized, displaced, and forgotten peoples of Abya Yala*. Christmas ceases to be a gentle tale and is revealed for what it truly is: a dangerous disruption, because it destabilizes orders sustained by exclusion; subversive, because it overturns the logics of power and restores dignity to those who have been pushed aside; and profoundly hopeful, because it affirms that God does not abandon suffering peoples, but walks with them.

The Gospel of Luke does not narrate a neutral birth. It situates the event amid an imperial census, a policy of control that displaced bodies and fractured households. Mary and Joseph did not travel out of religious devotion, but under imperial compulsion. In that context of forced mobility and vulnerability, God chose to be born and insert himself into history, taking on its weight.

Here is where the prophetic denunciation begins. While the empire presented itself as the guarantor of the Pax Romana, the true peace of God arrived wrapped in fragility. Augustus called himself the “savior of the world,” yet the true Savior was not born in Rome or in a palace. He was born in Bethlehem, Palestine. Laid in a manger, surrounded by animals and impoverish. For the reason Christmas thus unmasks the lie of the powerful that promise order at the cost of the lives of the poor.

This contrast is no accident. Luke presents a social world in miniature—from the emperor at the top to the infant at the base. In that world, God chooses the most vulnerable body. In an era when infant mortality was extremely high and children possessed no social status, God chose to reveal himself as a baby—not as a strong adult, not as a warrior, nor as a triumphant king. God chooses fragility.

This choice unsettles our image of God and compels us to ask: what if God does not resemble our images of power, but rather those of our shared vulnerability? What if God is not on the side of those who control, but of those who struggle simply to survive?

It is no coincidence that the first to receive the news were shepherds. In their context they were people of low social status, suspect, rural, and despised by urban and imperial culture. They were not “respectable.” Yet to them was entrusted the greatest announcement in history. God not only is born in poverty; God announces his arrival to the poor.

Here the preferential option of God is revealed—not as a theory, but as an embodied praxis. God comes to those who “do not count,” to tell them that they do. God comes to those who have been displaced, to affirm that their stories matter. God comes to those labeled “surplus,” to proclaim that they are bearers of good news.

For this reason, Christmas remains profoundly relevant for Abya Yala. It is not merely a date on the Christian calendar nor an annual pious memory, but a lasting theological key for discerning where and how God continues to come into the world—especially where life is denied or discarded. In territories marked by colonialism, structural inequality, economic violence, racism, and dispossession, the manger still speaks volumes. God continues to come to us: in poverty that is not a choice but a wound; in the abused woman who endures another day; in children who live in hunger and should not bear the consequences of any system that has failed them; in exploited workers; in communities defending their land against voracious capitalists.

The Incarnation tells us something decisive: God claims us by becoming one of us. Not from above, but from within. God knows what pain is because God lived it. God knows what it means to have no place, to depend on others to survive, to be displaced, migrant, and vulnerable.

For this reason, Christian faith cannot be resignation. Christmas calls us to rise with hope. The salvation announced by the angels is not abstract nor merely future. It is concrete, communal, and begins now: where bread is shared, where solidarity is organized, where life is defended, where the lies of empire are exposed.

This is the prophetic call to our communities: you have not been forgotten. The God who was born in a manger continues to walk with you. And just as the shepherds left their routines to see what God was doing, we too are called to move from fear to action, from silence to voice, from a private faith to embodied hope.

Rise up in the name of the One who came before you!

For EMMANUEL is not merely a pious name; it is a spiritual and political proclamation. God is with us and no empire has the final word.

Abya Yala in the Guna language means “land in full maturity and land of vital blood.” In the 1970s, activists, historians, politicians, and theologians with a strong sense of ancestral identity adopted the term Abya Yala as a unified name for the continent, instead of referring to it as Latin America, among other names that perpetuate colonial divisions (Delgado & Ramírez, 2022).

Eliezer E. Burgos-Rosado 

Puerto Rican theologian. Doctoral student in Theology at the Interamerican University of Puerto Rico. Pastor and graduate of the Evangelical Seminary of Puerto Rico. Works on topics of ethics, ecclesiology, and social justice. Founder of Ediciones Didásko.

Publica

We Are the Guardians of the Planet: A Spiritual and Moral Call to Care for Creation

COP30, the United Nations climate conference taking place in Belém, Brazil, has a promising agenda. On paper, such declarations lend the conference an air of promise. Yet in practice, global climate gatherings have long been shaped not by the communities most affected, but by nation-states and multinational corporations whose interests often overshadow the voices of those living at the frontlines of ecological collapse.

In response, sixty Native/Indigenous organizations from both the southern and northern of Abya Yala* embarked on an extraordinary journey known as the “Yaku Mama Flotilla.” Activist leaders from Ecuador, Peru, Brazil, Colombia, Panama, Guatemala, and Mexico set out from Ecuador, traveling over 1,800 miles down the Amazon River to Belém, Brazil. The name “Yaku Mama,” derived from Quechua language, translates to “Mother of the Waters.” This name reflects a worldview in which every river, forest, and creature is nurtured by a maternal presence. It embodies a vision of creation as not merely an object, but as an integral part of a shared existence with the cosmos.

Their voyage is at once a protest and a plea: an unequivocal call to end fossil-fuel extraction; a demand to safeguard uncontacted peoples; a push for direct, community-led climate financing; and a reaffirmation that any durable climate solution must be rooted in ancestral knowledge. It is not simply a political act—it is a spiritual procession, a living litany on behalf of the wounded Earth.

The disconnect between these frontline communities and international climate forums often reveals itself most acutely in language. For many Indigenous peoples, humanity exists within nature, not beyond it. Their urgency is not an abstract concern but the anguish of losing a loved one, the Amazon, the rivers, the mountains, the trees, the motherland, home.

Remembering the words of Pope Francis, in Laudato Si’ (2015), reminds the world that the Earth “is our common home,” a mother who “cries out because of the harm we have inflicted on her.” His words resonate profoundly with the spirit of the Yaku Mama Flotilla. Both speak of creation not as a commodity to be exploited, but as a sacred gift entrusted to our care. Francis warns that when humans, from an Eurocentric and anthropocentric point of view, imagine themselves as masters and owners, detached from the web of life, the result is the devastation of ecosystems, vulnerable peoples, and the moral fabric that binds us together.

In Laudate Deum (2023), he becomes even more urgent, insisting that the climate crisis is not merely political or scientific but deeply spiritual. In the face of this reality, Pope Francis speaks with prophetic clarity, denouncing both political inaction and the systematic obstruction of negotiations driven by economic interests that place profit above the common good. He calls for the creation of global structures capable of protecting our common home, and he lifts up the vital role of popular movements and local communities, who already bear the weight of environmental destruction. Francis urges a profound cultural revolution, one that frees us from selfishness and leads us to responsibility and care. He insists that science is an essential ally, not an enemy of faith. He invites us to embrace an active hope, a hope that is not naïve, but committed, courageous, and transformative.

The flotilla’s journey thus becomes a living homily. It proclaims what Pope Francis emphasizes repeatedly: that ecological conversion requires listening to those who live closest to the land, who understand creation as a communion of relationships. It is an invitation to repentance for the harms done, a call to defend the sacredness of all life, and a commitment to walk, like the “Yaku Mama Flotilla,” ourageous hope toward a future where humanity and creation may be healed together.

*Abya Yala in the Guna language means “land in full maturity and land of vital blood .” In the 1970s, Native activists, historians, politicians, and theologians with a strong sense of ancestral identity adopted the term Abya Yala as a unified name for the continent, instead of referring to it as Latin America, Hispanoamerica among other names that perpetuate colonial divisions (Delgado & Ramírez, 2022).

Yenny Delgado

Abya Yala Theology: Prophetic, Communal, and Political

From November 7 to 9, 2025, the inaugural continental gathering was held in Mazatenango, Guatemala. Over the course of three days, delegations from ten countries and 375 participants—including leaders from diverse backgrounds such as farmers, educators, theologians, historians, anthropologists, sociologists, political scientists, elders, and spiritual guides from across the continent—came together to affirm the foundations of a communal, political, and prophetic theology that denounces colonial oppression and dictatorial political agendas.

This gathering marked a historical event in the emergence of Abya Yala theology. It served as a continental platform to defend life, harmony, Native spiritualities, ancestral knowledge, and the right to exist of the Native/Original Peoples of Abya Yala.

As Christendom has promoted since colonization, as a linear and singular understanding of history, it has increasingly marginalized alternative narratives, diverse spiritualities, and various paths to connect with the divine, wisdom for the native population. This perspective, influenced by government-imposed control, unilateral education programs, and structured religious practices, has perpetuated policies and systems that dictate behavior, belief, and imitation, aiming to mold individuals in its own image. However, this approach is no longer acceptable. Christianity and the teachings of Jesus illuminate a range of practices, as seen in Abya Yala theology, which moves beyond the image of the crucified man to embrace faith in the Resurrection.

In response to this, an embodied spirituality has emerged; the body of the resurrected manifests that another life is possible. A theology that is next to the everyday struggles, in maintaining the memories of those who dedicated their lives to achieving dignity, freedom, and the pursuit of a good living. For prophets of our time who believe in a cycle of times and preach against colonialism and superiority, that the time for native people

‘s Resurrection is now. In this context, we assert that Abya Yala Theology emerges from the heart of God, the resurrected messenger, rooted in faith, hope, and the proclamation of the Resurrection in the lives of those who suffer most since colonization: Indigenous, Natives, and Original peoples of Abya Yala.

Abya Yala’s theological perspective amplifies Quijano’s decolonial perspective on knowledge and power, emphasizing the need to deconstruct power and knowledge systems imposed by European paradigms, which often present themselves as superior and universal. Abya Yala theology is a decolonial theology with holistic ways of theological decoloniality, encompassing three vital dimensions for thinking and feeling God in Abya Yala: feeling, caring, and repairing.

To feel means to be touched, profoundly affected by the struggles of Native/original peoples who inhabit this “land of vital blood,” united through a shared ancestry. Caring embodies love and a commitment to the community, where feelings are genuine and mutual responsibilities foster a sense of cosmoexistence that brings us together. Finally, restoration signifies the movement towards actions that repair broken relationships, restore dignity, provide well-being, and create new conditions for life for all, within the framework of a cyclical and ancestral worldview.

For this reason, Abya Yala theology is inherently political, emphasizing the importance of engaging with spiritualities and ancestral knowledge that enable us to live in community amid the pluridiverse and pluricultural of Natives/Originals peoples. This approach is not the work of isolated theorists; rather, it underscores the urgent need for a theology arising from the peoples themselves as an affirmation of the living God in Abya Yala.

Abya Yala in the Guna language means “land in full maturity and land of vital blood .” In the 1970s, activists, historians, politicians, and theologians with a strong sense of ancestral identity adopted the term Abya Yala as a unified name for the continent, instead of referring to it as Latin America, among other names that perpetuate colonial divisions (Delgado & Ramírez, 2022).

Yenny Delgado

Spiritualities and Political Theology from Abya Yala

Statement at the Conclusion of the First Continental Gathering on “Spiritualities and Political Theology from Abya Yala.” (Over 400 participants, including women, men, and children.)

Mazatenango, Suchitepéquez, Guatemala November 10, 2025

​Gathered in Mazatenango, Guatemala, from November 7–9, 2025, representatives of faith communities, social movements, grassroots organizations, farmers, educators, academics, and theologians from across Abya Yala convened to share experiences and deepen our common search for meaning. This First Encounter of Spiritualities and Political Theology From Abya Yala* arose as a space of attentive listening and collective discernment, inviting us to reimagine faith, justice, and hope in light of our continental realities and the ancestral wisdom of the original peoples of Abya Yala.

​Over the course of three days of dialogue, a shared conviction emerged: our spiritualities, born in Abya Yala, cannot be separated from history, from our bodies, or from our motherland. They are embodied spiritualities, expressed in the daily struggles of our peoples, in the memory of those who gave their lives for justice, and in the care for life in all its forms. Confronted with the open wounds of colonialism, patriarchy, racism, and the new manifestations of global capitalism, we affirm the urgent need for a theology conceived and lived within communities—one that is political, liberating, and decolonial.

We understand that our spiritualities as christians and followers of Jesus of Nazareth is characterized by a commitment to the life and dignity of the oppressed, distinguishing it from the power dynamics that, throughout history, have shaped Christianity as a system of domination. In this sense, we affirm that Christian Native spiritualities cannot be separated from transformative action or from the horizon of the Kingdom of God, understood as justice, equity, and universal solidarity.

During this first encounter, the conviction emerged strongly that Abya Yala theology is ancestral, comunal and political theology and must begin with feeling, caring, and repairing. These three dimensions express a profoundly human and spiritual methodology. Feeling involves allowing oneself to be affected by the suffering and hope of people; caring implies assuming mutual responsibility among human beings and with creation; repairing, finally, refers to transformative action that seeks to restore dignity and build new conditions for life.

Furthermore, the importance of critically engaging with digital spaces was emphasized, recognizing that networks can be both sites of domination and territories of encounter and resistance. From the perspective of political theology, there is an urgent need to construct narratives that promote discernment, solidarity, and communion in a world fragmented by disinformation and indifference.

​These shared reflections also led us to recognize the value of ancestral memories as a source of wisdom for political action. Our ancestral identity is a symbol of spirituality and cultural heritage for the peoples of Abya Yala: a memory that resists oblivion, teaches us to walk with humility, and inspires us to build community in the face of adversity.

In this context, we express our appreciation for the support of CODECA, PUBLICA, ÑAWI, and the delegations from various countries who, through their commitment to human rights, land and territories, and the dignity of peoples, embody the Gospel as a life-giving force in the face of fascism, racism, impoverishment, supremacies, and the many forms of exclusion and genocide committed in Abya Yala. Their decolonial actions stand as a living testament to a spirituality that takes shape and becomes resistance.

​

These days together leaves us with the conviction that reflecting on spiritualities is not an isolated theoretical exercise but an urgent necessity for sustaining and guiding the political struggles of our peoples. A political theology without spirituality risks becoming meaningless, and a spirituality without political commitment becomes sterile in the face of the world’s suffering. Both dimensions must be intertwined so that faith becomes transformative praxis.

From Abya Yala, we invite faith communities, ecclesial and academic institutions, and social movements to continue forging common paths. We call for a spirituality rooted in decolonial history, one that looks with compassion and acts courageously in the face of injustice.

​We firmly believe that without spiritual practices there can be no lasting political transformation, and that without justice there can be no true spirituality. With this conviction, we reaffirm our commitment to life and to building a future of peace, equity, and dignity for all in our motherland.

With hope and determination,
We, the participants of the First Gathering on Spiritualities and Political Theology in Abya Yala.

​

​*Abya Yala in the Guna language means “land in full maturity and land of vital blood.” In the 1970s, activists, historians, politicians, and theologians with a strong sense of ancestral identity adopted the term Abya Yala as a unified name for the continent, instead of referring to it as Latin America, The Americas among other names that perpetuate colonial divisions (Delgado & Ramírez, 2022).

Publica

The Uneasy Expansion of Reformed Theological Education in Latin America: Proliferation, Tensions, and Possibilities

By Dr. Gonzalo David

In recent years, we have witnessed a proliferation of Protestant and Evangelical seminaries across Latin America. This phenomenon might appear to be a positive sign, suggesting a growing interest in theological formation. Yet it also raises several issues that deserve careful attention.

When I refer to this increase in theological seminaries, I am thinking particularly of the Protestant and Evangelical churches I know best: the Reformed world in all its diverse expressions—even if, within the confessional Presbyterian sector, there are disagreements about what truly counts as “Reformed” in historical and theological terms [I]. It is essential to delimit this field of analysis in relation to its features, since the institutions in question differ markedly—by nature, development, and academic status—from the Catholic universities that dominate theological education in much of the region.

What follows, then, is not a comprehensive analysis of the Reformed milieu, but rather a general sketch of one of its internal phenomena, an interpretive proposal, and a few concluding reflections.

Institutional Fragility 

The main problem I identify—and from which most others stem—is that many of these seminaries have been created under the logic of our free-market model: supply follows perceived demand. In this case, the “demand” comes from a growing interest in biblical and theological education, often among Pentecostal believers who have recently discovered the Reformed tradition.

The issue, in my view, is not the motivation behind these initiatives but the fact that most of them fail to meet even minimal academic standards. These seminaries are rarely subject to any external quality control or accreditation. By relying on the information, they themselves provide, we can observe that many of their instructors lack the proper academic preparation to teach—let alone expertise in the specific areas of the courses they offer.

In some cases, these teachers do hold degrees or even graduate credentials, but those degrees often come from institutions of equally questionable quality [II]. Moreover, there are typically no formal partnerships, faculty or student exchanges, research programs or publications—criteria commonly used in evaluating higher education institutions.

These shortcomings reveal not only institutional fragility but also a deeper intellectual problem: these seminaries tend to be spaces of information transfer rather than critical reflection or knowledge production. They operate within a very limited theological culture—largely confined to conservative Anglo-Saxon Reformed theology, a small and academically marginal current within global theological production.

Entire traditions are simply ignored, such as the Franco-German theological world, which has shaped Western theological thought for the past two centuries, or the increasingly vibrant Latin American, Asian, and African theologies [III]. This is troubling because a proper undergraduate program in theology should provide a set of core contents ensuring that students acquire essential knowledge and skills. In these seminaries, that standard is not being met.

As a result, many graduates find themselves poorly equipped for advanced study, lacking the necessary intellectual and academic tools to pursue postgraduate education effectively.

A concrete example of the lack of academic understanding behind some of these projects can be seen in seminaries that simultaneously offer both a Bachelor’s degree in Theology and a Master of Divinity (M.Div.), as if the latter were a natural continuation of the former. Anyone even moderately familiar with theological education in the Western world knows that the Master of Divinity is a professional degree, originally designed in the Anglo-American context for individuals with a prior Bachelor of Arts to prepare for ordination or ministry. Over time, it replaced the older Bachelor of Divinity (B.Div.). In other words, the M.Div. is the first degree in theology for those entering ministry from another academic background—it is not a specialized postgraduate degree. In continental Europe and Latin America, its rough equivalent would be the Licenciatura en Teología.

The Latin American Particularity of Protestant and Evangelical Theological Education

Given this situation, what possible solutions might we envision? First, we must recognize that our ecclesial, theological, and historical context differs fundamentally from that of Europe, Asia, or North America. In Latin America, only a handful of Protestant or Evangelical theological faculties are officially recognized by the state [IV] or accredited within the national higher education systems—and among those, few belong to Reformed or Reformed-leaning traditions.

There are examples in countries like Costa Rica, Argentina, Paraguay, and Nicaragua, but they are exceptions rather than the rule. Any realistic diagnosis must take this into account.

Furthermore, the creation of theological seminaries in our region rests on the principle of academic freedom, grounded in the universal right to education recognized by international human rights conventions. It would therefore be mistaken to argue that the state should necessarily regulate the founding of such institutions. The solutions should not follow totalitarian impulses, even if the abuse of this freedom gives rise to legitimate concerns.

On the one hand, these initiatives arise from the exercise of a right; on the other, they demand ethical and academic responsibility from those who lead them. The evidence suggests that this dual dimension—freedom and responsibility—is not equally understood or respected by all actors involved.

Denominational, Interdenominational, and Para-ecclesial Seminaries

Within this landscape, we can distinguish between denominational [V], interdenominational [VI], and para-ecclesial seminaries [VII]. The first are sustained by a single denomination; the second, by multiple denominations; and the third emerge from personal or collective initiatives—whether through associations or foundations—that do not answer to any specific church body.

In my view, denominational and interdenominational seminaries have a better chance of developing sustainable academic projects capable of maintaining higher quality standards. Since they are accountable to one or more church bodies, they are more likely to receive long-term investment—both human and financial—and to address internal weaknesses.

Para-ecclesial seminaries, by contrast, depend on the efforts of a small group of individuals. Such efforts require at least a few essential elements from the outset: financial resources, perseverance, administrative competence, and a basic understanding of theological education. Without these, it is difficult for any project to survive more than a few years.

A frequent objection regarding denominational and interdenominational seminaries is that, while they may enjoy more stability and resources, they tend to limit academic freedom because of their confessional commitments. This tension—between institutional support and intellectual autonomy—is real. Yet it is also important to remember that every educational institution operates from a guiding vision or worldview. Catholic theological faculties, for instance, which are often integrated into state-recognized universities, must meet both academic and magisterial standards. They are no less confessional for being academically rigorous.

Conclusion

Given all that was discussed, there is an urgent need for systematic, quantitative research on the phenomena recently described —data on the number of Protestant and Evangelical seminaries established in recent years, the academic qualifications of their faculty, their publication output, student graduation rates, and the long-term trajectories of their graduates.

Such research would provide a clearer picture of these seminaries and their evolution in Latin America, especially regarding institutional development and sustainability. At present, this remains an almost unexplored field, and this lack of data poses serious methodological challenges for anyone seeking to analyze it properly.

Still, while the current situation is concerning, this concern should be tempered with perspective. The historical Protestant denominations possess a significant opportunity: to build strong, durable educational projects that could meaningfully contribute to theological reflection and production in the Global Christianity. 

It has been several decades since liberation theologies first emerged in Latin America—movements that, regardless of one’s theological stance toward them, demonstrated that our continent can produce intellectually vigorous and contextually relevant theology. Coupled with the fact that Spanish is the world’s second most spoken language, this should remind us that Latin America remains a fertile ground for the flourishing of theological ideas that speak meaningfully to our troubled times.


Notes

[I] Presbyterians of various branches, Reformed Baptists, Reformed Pentecostals, Anglicans, and others.

[II] In the North American context, one way to determine whether a seminary meets minimum academic standards is to check whether it is accredited by the Association of Theological Schools in the United States and Canada (ATS). Some may question the rigor of certain ATS-accredited institutions, but it remains the official benchmark.

[III] A separate but related issue concerns the generally weak training offered in biblical studies—especially in exegesis and ancient languages—throughout Latin American theological education.

[IV] Examples include the Universidad Evangélica de las Américas and the Universidad Bíblica Latinoamericana in Costa Rica; the Martin Luther King Jr. University in Nicaragua; and the Corporación Universitaria Reformada in Colombia, among others.

[V] Regional examples include denominational seminaries such as the Seminario Teológico Bautista (Chile), the Centro de Estudios Pastorales (CEP), and the Seminario Teológico Presbiteriano IPCH.

[VI] For instance, the Comunidad Teológica Evangélica (Chile) and similar collaborative networks across the continent.

[VII] Examples include the Instituto Bíblico Nacional (Chile), the Seminario Teológico Reformado (Chile), and the Seminario Martin Bucer.

Dr. Rev. Gonzalo David: Doctor in Philosophy, Université de Montpellier Paul-Valéry, France. Doctor in Theology, Faculté de théologie protestante de Montpellier, France. Research Fellow – Neo-Calvinism Research Institute. Theological University Utrecht.

Publica

Women and Theology: From a Womanist Perspective

Women have been involved in theological work since the beginning of Christianity. However, their contributions have been undervalued or rendered invisible in theological and academic spaces due to the stigma, suspicion, and jealousy of a patriarchal system that has arranged hierarchies in which women are not seen as equals. Despite the imposed invisibility, women have guided their theological work from their own contexts, responding to the needs of their communities and embodying a theology that is real, experiential, accessible, and deeply womanist. Their commitment to developing a theology of incarnation and their deep belief in the resurrection of Jesus’ message of hope has been essential in shaping a theology that interprets tradition and responds to everyday life.

Women theologians draw, color and reflect on their daily experiences as grandmothers, mothers, aunts, sisters, and daughters. Their theology transcends academic boundaries, rooted in a deep spirituality in community. Grassroots faith communities, informed by the reflections of these women, have integrated theological perspectives into conversations around the kitchen table, into the challenges of motherhood and parenting, into resistance against poverty and violence within the family and in society, into the struggles of forced migration in search of a better future, into ancestral spiritual practices of hope and into the wisdom that emerges from generational resistance to living well, living beautifully.

Women have established networks of hope and resilience while expanding their understanding of the Gospel to include the intersectionality that happens to women because of their sex, their educational and economic access, their skin color, and their ancestral heritage that is the basis of their identity and engenders a deep feeling-thinking of the relationship with God.

For the coming generation of women, we find ourselves in a time when we have forged a significant path in theological reflections rooted in our everyday experiences and in which communities of faith are those that promote and strengthen these experiences.

It is essential to recognize that the contributions of women as theologians have enriched our understanding of faith and have transformed the Church and believing communities into more inclusive and diverse environments, dedicated to uplifting those who have been historically marginalized, and so we must continue to blaze a trail from within to radiate the message outward. In this way, women’s theological work is both nourishing and generative, embodying liberation theology principles closely intertwined with community life, commitment, resistance, and hope.

In the cover photo features Ana Maria Jara, Yenny Delgado, Luzmila Quezada, and Irma Espinoza, peruvian theologians.

This text was originally published on AETH https://aeth.info/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/MUJER-TEOLOGIA-Eng-March-9.pdf (March 8, 2025)

Yenny Delgado is a psychologist and theologian. Doctoral candidate in Psychology of Religion at the University of Lausanne. Convener of Women Doing Theology in Abya Yala. Yenny is the founder and director of PUBLICA, an organization that facilitates dialogues, gatherings, and a space that amplifies women’s voices from decolonial and liberation perspectives.

Yenny Delgado

Spiritualities and Political Theologies from Abya Yala: Challenges and Decolonial Perspectives

CONTINENTAL CONFERENCE – Guatemala , November 7-9, 2025

Introduction

Communities organized in resistance, International Land Coalition articulated in CODECA Guatemala, the forum of political theology PUBLICA and the community of intercultural dialogue, ÑAWI, invite theologians, academics, community leaders in sociopolitical resistance, wise men and women members of indigenous communities, and actors committed to socio-political transformation, to participate in a space for dialogue and learning that explores the experiences of resistance of social and ecclesial movements through Abya Yala.

This gathering seeks to reflect on the transcendental hopes of communities in sociopolitical resistance, ecclesial and communities of faith, Originals Peoples/ Natives leaders who promote processes of profound structural changes in and from different territories of the Continent of Abya Yala. Our Mission is to contribute from political theologies to restoration/construction of Good Living practices with a decolonial and plurinational perspective.

CALL FOR PAPERS

We invite theologians, academics, community representatives engaged in sociopolitical resistance, and knowledgeable elders from Native communities with indigenous practices and spiritualities, as well as activists committed to socio-political transformation. We encourage participation in a dialogue and learning space that examines the experiences of resistance within social and ecclesial movements.

We invite submissions that explore, from a political and theological standpoint, the challenges and opportunities faced by communities in resistance as advocates of “Good Living.” We welcome contributions addressing the following thematic areas:

1. Ecclesiastical Action in Public Policy: Strategies for influencing social and public policies to defend human rights.

2. Educating for Liberation and Transformative Resistance: Popular education, ancestral practices, and methodologies designed for training in political theology.

3. Health and Restoration of Balance: Community organization efforts to ensure equitable access to health justice.

4. Eco-Theology from Abya Yala: Theological and indigenous perspectives on the care of Motherland.

5. Political Theology and Migration: Analysis of migration processes in Abya Yala, highlighting border policies, exclusion, and discrimination against migrants.

6. Native and Afro-Descendant Identities: Insights from Native and descendants, Indigenous, African, and Black theology and spiritualities regarding the challenges faced by Native and Afro-descendant communities in Abya Yala.

7. Women Rights: Highlighting women’s struggles across various social and political contexts. Womanist approach to rights and liberation.

PROPOSAL
Proposal of a maximum of 300 words. Brief biography of the author(s)
Indicate the language of presentation. Country of Nationality.Ancestral Identity. Institution or/in membership of community.

Evaluation Criteria

– Thematic relevance.
– Practical and participatory approach.

SUPPORT FOR PARTICIPATION

Those selected to present their papers or workshops will be offered lodging, food, and ground transportation from the airport to the event’s location.

Languages of the conference

To ensure the inclusion of many diverse voices in Abya Yala, we will provide translations during presentations in the following languages:

· Native languages (to be coordinated) · Spanish . Portuguese . English

DEADLINE FOR SUBMITTING PROPOSALS
Proposals must be sent from February 15 to May 30 to the email teologiaabyayala@publicatheology.org

This meeting is an invitation to collectively build a theological-political thought from Abya Yala, capable of responding in an inclusive, fair, and sustainable way to decolonial challenges.

We look forward to your participation!

Yenny Delgado