In his Apostolic Letter Ad Theologiam Promovendam, on the nature and mission of theology, Pope Francis contrasts “a fundamentally contextual theology” with “a desk theology.” The former is deeply engaged with “the conditions in which men and women live daily, in different geographical, social, and cultural environments.” By contrast, the latter remains detached, impervious to “the world, to humanity in the concreteness of its existential situation, with its problems, wounds, and challenges.”Footnote 18
In light of Francis’s insight, a theological narrative on spirituality that engages “existential situations”—such as incarceration, marginalization, and the brutalization of the human dignity of the poor—is not only refreshing and deeply gratifying but also profoundly liberating. Reflecting on his experience with the Jail Visitation Program of the Chicago-based Interfaith Community for Detained Immigrants (ICDI), Christopher Tirres introduces this book with a vivid and moving perspective, making “refreshing,” “gratifying,” and “liberating” perfectly fitting descriptors for his fascinating treatise.
There exists a tradition of spirituality that confines the term “spirituality” to the mystical, esoteric, and arcane. However, Liberating Spiritualities redefines “spirituality,” grounding it in the ordinary and the quotidian—the realm poet and Anglican clergyman George Herbert aptly describes as “heaven in ordinarie.” Thus, it is neither sufficient nor acceptable to leave unchallenged the dominant narratives of the privileged, often rooted in colonial and Constantinian forms of Christendom. Instead, spirituality emerges as a living, life-affirming patrimony and a shared quality of human existence. Far from being detached from reality, it is reality-forming—a holistic and integral way of authentically being human. It celebrates diversity, is anchored in context, guided by “some ultimate value” (40), and engages with the drama of real life. As Tirres asserts, “Human spirituality is a constitutive dimension of what it means to be human” (119).
I do not intend to review Liberating Spiritualities. Instead, I wish to focus on a few key lessons learned.
Spirituality is the foundation of theology. Tirres vividly demonstrates this through his insightful analysis of José Carlos Mariátegui’s influence on Gustavo Gutiérrez, the ancestor of liberation theology. Without these vital roots, theology risks becoming a pale, bloodless “desktop” exercise—a critique Pope Francis so aptly articulates.
Like theology, spirituality is nourished by multiple sources. Pope Francis’s concept of “a web of relationships” comes to mind, emphasizing the interconnectedness of spirituality with other theological and philosophical pursuits. As Francis writes, “This relational dimension connotes and defines, from an epistemic viewpoint, the status of theology, which is driven not to close itself in self-referentiality, which leads to isolation and insignificance, but to grasp itself as embedded in a web of relationships, first of all with other disciplines and other knowledge.” These sources may include traditions of philosophical thought or even scientific and social scientific disciplines, such as education and paleontology—fields that may initially seem unrelated to theological inquiry or spirituality yet often contain implicit spirituality. Any lingering doubts about this are dispelled by Tirres’s fascinating exploration of Teilhard de Chardin’s work through the lens of Virgilio Elizondo.
Ultimately, spirituality is far from being a single story, confined to one perspective. As Tirres emphasizes time and again, it is expansive, heterodox, and pluralistic—woven with the rich textures and vibrant tapestry of liberating spiritualities.
Spirituality is not a passive endeavor or a spectator sport. A common thread among the thinkers featured by Tirres is the deeply “socially engaged” or “socially active” nature of their scholarship. Reflection alone is insufficient; action alone is inadequate—both must complement and sustain each other. As Pope Francis taught in 2013, the interior life and action are profoundly interconnected: “From contemplative prayer, from a strong friendship with the Lord, is born in us the capacity to live and carry forth the love of God, His mercy, and His tenderness toward others.”Footnote 19
What is truly needed is a healthy balance between action and interiority. Gloria Anzaldúa, in my view, comes closest to articulating the interior life as the foundation of an enduring, resilient, and mature spirituality. Furthermore, spirituality serves as a counterpoint to the biases and constraints of patriarchy and the dominance of masculinity in intellectual life. This underscores the significance of the corrective voices found in the new forms of prophecy and beauty championed by scholars such as Ada María Isasi-Díaz and Ivone Gebara (99, 107).
Thus, spirituality fosters relationality. It rarely finds fulfillment when turned inward; rather, it is outward-facing, deepening our sense of “relatedness.” This relational dynamic evokes the kind of authentic dialogue and communion among people—and between them and God—that Paulo Freire emphasizes. Spirituality enables us to transcend self-interest and perceive the broader picture (45). It also encapsulates the intersectionality of frameworks that may seem parallel yet converge in significant ways—for example, ecofeminism’s recognition of the interconnected exploitation of nature and women. Pope Francis echoes Ivone Gebara in Laudato Si’, asserting that “We are all related”; “everything in the world is connected”; we are interdependent, a “universal family.” He further reminds us, “We are part of nature, included in it and thus in constant interaction with it.”Footnote 20
A core value of these “liberating spiritualities” lies in their understanding of spirituality as “spirituality in action”—an experience that avoids dissolving into mindless activism, which inevitably reduces transcendence to mere intellectual escapism. At the same time, it resists becoming a pious indifference that sweetens or falsifies the severity of the pain and suffering that many people face. A vital corollary to this vision is the decolonization of spirituality and the nurturing of a spirituality that actively works toward “social and ecological betterment” (113). Additionally, “liberating spiritualities,” I would argue, embody “a spirituality in motion”—a dynamic testament to the new humanity that “is never static, but, rather, always moving forward, emerging, becoming” (64).
“What shall we do with these interpretations?” asks Tirres (123). Honestly, I am not sure. For all of Tirres’s careful attention to the concrete, contextual, and practical—conscientización, conocimiento, and lo cotidiano—I struggle to dismiss the lingering impression of an elitist and intellectualized spirituality, one that seems to privilege form over matter, intelligence over praxis. How can the poor, the marginalized, the incarcerated, and the oppressed engage with, own, and practice such forms of spirituality when they lack access to the sophisticated resources of philosophical pragmatism? (34–35).
Pope Francis, I believe, offers a meaningful corrective in his exhortation on holiness in today’s world, Gaudete et Exsultate. There, he celebrates the character of “the saints next door,” describing holiness that is both accessible and grounded: “It is a holiness found in our next-door neighbors, those who, living in our midst, reflect God’s presence. We might call them ‘the middle class of holiness.’” Quoting Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, Pope Francis articulates more clearly this vision:
The greatest figures of prophecy and sanctity step forth out of the darkest night. But for the most part, the formative stream of the mystical life remains invisible. Certainly the most decisive turning points in world history are substantially co-determined by souls whom no history book ever mentions. And we will only find out about those souls to whom we owe the decisive turning points in our personal lives on the day when all that is hidden is revealed.Footnote 21
Fortunately, Tirres highlights those “souls whom no history book ever mentions”—such as Edwin from Honduras, Luis from Mexico, and the young compañero leading a prayer for his fellow incarcerated. To his credit, while Tirres aims to articulate a “robust sense of spirituality through the groundbreaking work of six exemplary twentieth-century liberation thinkers for whom spirituality, intelligence, and social activism are tightly connected” (5), he does not merely present a bland menu of metaphysical options. Liberating Spiritualities instead delicately lays out a rich and sumptuous table of “intelligent modes of engaging the world that center those on the periphery of society and seek to redress unwarranted forms of human suffering” (121), offering meaningful pathways “to help change the world” (110). Liberating Spiritualities is an intellectual and pragmatic feast, liberated from the constraints of rigid organized religion.