Lo
Cotidiano
Finding God in the spaces of the everyday
by Loida I. Martell-Otero
Theological thinking among our people is like a woman who goes to a laundromat to wash her family's clothes. She sits and watches the clothes go round and round in that washing machine, and after a bit, she'll say, "Life in Christ is just like that. There are problems that tumble you around, but by the time the process is done, Christ assures that he will clean you with his blood, and you come out white as snow." Our people are a deeply theological people. --Elizabeth Conde-Frazier
One cannot understand the Latina/o worldview unless one sees the world of the everyday through our eyes. We consider los del pueblo (the people) to be the true theologians. Observing this, U.S. feministas/mujeristas have developed the concept of lo cotidiano as a theological category of knowing. María Pilar Aquino has defined lo cotidiano as the "whole of doing and thinking of our people in their daily lives and recurring routine." It encompasses the aesthetic and the celebratory (fiesta) elements of our lives, as well as the tedious and the mundane.
Daniel H. Levine views lo cotidiano as the space where the oppressed live in spite of the domination of sinful social structures. It is the space where people struggle daily to survive, where the effects of injustice, poverty and discrimination are concretely felt. It is also where the poor resist the religious, economic or social powers, and thus experience the salvific presence of God.
Feminista/mujerista theologians have criticized the patriarchal penchant for dismissing the "private" or "domestic" dimensions of life as being irrelevant to theology, to social analysis and to the struggle for change. They insist that lo cotidiano should not be reduced to what is "private" or "individual" and made secondary or subordinate to the "public" domain. The "public" has often been the space of the powerful (mostly men), who make invisible those at the periphery (particularly women), and who ignore those impacted the most by the decisions they make. For example, welfare legislation was debated, legislated and enforced by those affected the least by it; conversely, the greatest impact has been suffered by those whose voices were muffled or ignored in the debate. It is poor working mothers who must now face the day-to-day care of their children without safety nets and little community support. This "domestic" reality has a profound effect on the public domain, of course. So-called "welfare mothers" are forced into waged labor (since raising a child is not considered "work") in low-paying jobs. They must send their children to child-care or after-school programs -- if they can afford to. This places a strain on public delivery systems and affects educational institutions.
Lo cotidiano allows us to see how both the realities of structural sin and of God's grace, justice, and love are manifest in everyday occurrences, especially at the level of our communities of faith. It makes the social location of the U.S. Hispanic/Latina community explicit, and does so in the narrative tradition, allowing the voiceless to tell their stories. Here, we cry out to the heavens for justice and peace. Stories of living in overcrowded tenements with no heat or hot water, or of shopping in supermarkets with spoiled food and inflated prices, or of schools with racist teachers, broken chalkboards, unsafe physical plants, and dilapidated and outdated books are not irrelevant to the task of theology.
Hispanic religiosity is often misperceived in individualistic categories. But a strong sense of community, inherited from our indigenous and African foreparents, is central to the cultural and religious legacy of U.S. Hispanics/Latinas. The functional unit of the community is the family. Familia is not just the nuclear family, but the extended family, similar to the Hebrew concept of mishpahah. It not only includes blood relatives, but also friends, neighbors, and even those who come from the same town of origin. Puerto Rican society, for example, has the concept of hijo/a de crianza: a child that is adopted through the informal ties of community. If a child needs a home, a family who is able takes the child in and raises her or him as one of its own. No difference is made between los/las hijos/as de crianza and one's birth children.
Familia is a sanctuary. It is the place where one's identity is affirmed and the source of moral decision-making. Here one's language or beliefs are not mocked as in the larger society; here Hispanics/Latinas can feel they belong. "To be exiled from family and friends," writes Paul J. Wadell, "would be not to exist."
Community and family are thus central for a theology of lo cotidiano. Theologians who have analyzed structural sin at the level of political, economic and social institutions have ignored it at the level of familia. They have not paid enough attention to everyday problems such as alcoholism, domestic violence, sinful patterns of patriarchy, and other such problems. Neither have they adequately assessed the human impact of poor housing and schooling, toxic dumping, lack of medical or recreational facilities or police brutality upon familia. Poor and marginalized families and communities must contend with these realities on a daily basis with little or no recourse to justice.
Another important element in lo cotidiano is the role of religion. U.S. Hispanic/Latina religiosity is, like our culture, a mestizo/mulata phenomenon that can be traced to our African, indigenous and European roots on one hand, and to biblical and pre-Tridentine religious traditions on the other. (Thus we are often mocked or rejected by modernists as pagan or superstitious.) These roots have contributed to an organic worldview that is deeply relational and incarnational. We do not perceive a dichotomy between the sacred and the secular or between the spiritual and the material. Rather, the material world is permeated with the spiritual. God is the One who has "tabernacled" in the midst of us, and Jesus is truly a historical person, part of our familia.
U.S. Hispanic/Latina religiosity is particularly indebted to Spanish Catholicism. During colonial times, the conquistadors would always build a central plaza in each town that was defined by two buildings: a city hall and a cathedral. Religion dictated the rhythms of daily life. La vida cotidiano was ordered around its sounds and liturgical celebrations. Social events revolved around church weddings, baptisms and wakes. The result is a culture that is deeply embedded with religious undertones, and explains why sociologists often refer to U.S. Hispanic/Latina Protestants as "cultural Catholics." A good example of this was my maternal grandmother, a life-long American Baptist and Sunday school teacher. Her typical exclamatory phrases were "Ave María Purísima" ("Hail Mary, most pure") or "Ay Virgen." Even today Protestant Hispanics who do not recognize infant baptism will nevertheless ask friends or church members to become godparents (padrino/madrina) of their children.
U.S. Hispanic/Latina Catholic theologians have thus claimed that the most authentic locus of theological reflection is popular religiosity. This has not been studied as much, however, among Hispanic Protestants (or evangélicos/as). There are, however, some defining characteristics of popular Protestantism, particularly that which arose from the Holiness movements of the early 1900s and from the charismatic movements of the late 1960s.
The lives of evangélicos/as are filled with attendance at worship services, prayer meetings, Bible classes, and sociedades. There is also visitation to the sick, street revival services, and home evangelism. These are supplemented by el altar familial, a gathering in the home where the Bible is read and prayers are conducted among family members, friends and neighbors.
True to their Protestant roots, Scripture plays a central role among evangélicas/os. Scripture is considered to be the rule of practice and faith, but also is a source of comfort, guidance and assurance that God is indeed present in the daily lives of those who suffer and have faith. Bible reading is done from a nonmodern cosmology, which the dominant culture often disparages as "fundamentalist." But this approach to the Bible in fact can empower those marginalized by modernity, inspiring faith that God's saving grace pertains to their everyday lives.
Other elements that are important in popular Protestantism are vigilias (all-night prayer vigils), fasting, coritos and testimonios. Coritos are short refrains that serve as theological statements. They are often Scriptural citations put to music, and often play a subversive role. Missionaries taught their Latin American charges that truly "Christian music" was found only in traditional Europeanized hymnody, accompanied by the organ or piano. The charismatic revival, however, brought a surge of indigenous musicians, who penned coritos. Bongos, timbales, tambourines, guitars, güiros, drums, and other indigenous instruments are often used as accompaniment. Thus, popular Protestantism has affirmed U.S. Hispanic/Latina culture and music.
Testimonios are shared stories of God's presence and salvific actions among the community. Through testimonios Biblical interpretations and insights are tested for validity. Testimonios are how the community is encouraged and nurtured, celebrating victory over adversity and sharing in suffering. Most importantly, testimonios are a way to transmit the faith and oral histories of the community to the next generation.
In the U.S. Hispanic/Latina community, women are the primary transmitters of the faith and religious practice. In the Protestant community, most Sunday school teachers are women. They teach their children Bible stories at home and in the church. Visiting the sick in hospitals or participating in a street evangelism activity, women share their stories of triumph and pain through their testimonios. In this way many women who would be otherwise silenced claim their voices. Only they can tell their stories, which are then confirmed by the community of faith. These stories are conduits of liberation and healing, affirming the humanity of those who must survive in the midst of a society that dehumanizes.
Another important element in popular Hispanic/Latina Protestantism is the relationship of the Holy Spirit to those who are made to feel like nonpersons through discrimination and oppression. It is the Spirit that empowers the voiceless, affirming their worth before God in a society that makes them feel que no sirven para nada ("that they are no good for anything"). The Spirit is the daily presence of the divine, incarnating the salvation of Jesus Christ in the everyday lives of those who suffer and those who seek justice.
Lo cotidiano is a rich theological paradigm that opens up our ability to reflect both on the sin that assails our people and the salvation that appears in hidden and unexpected ways in the everyday. The rich and powerful are often perplexed by the celebration that exists among the poor, unable to understand how they can be so joyful in the face of overwhelming tragedy and loss. Perhaps because the powerful rely so much on their material resources and social standing, they are blinded to the presence and power of God that manifests itself in the everyday. For example, U.S. Hispanics/Latinas believe that disease always has a spiritual component. As a community that has often been deprived of adequate health care, we know that the true Healer is Jesus Christ. When we become ill, we go to church and pray. We may not be able to afford psychiatrists, specialists or expensive laboratory tests, but the God present to us without appointment and without charge is the One who created us and who walks with us daily. It is to this God we turn. Whether healed or not, we know that God has heard our cries, and that salvation will be experienced in some wonderfully unexpected way. Those in the dominant society often disparage such a worldview. But those who walk in the spaces of lo cotidiano live in "abiding astonishment" as we witness God's enriching grace in our lives.
Loida I. Martell-Otero is a veterinary doctor and an ordained minister with the American Baptist Churches/ USA living in Mount Kisco, N.Y.