Óscar Romero and Catholic Social Teaching, edited by Todd Walatka, was published in October 2024 by the University of Notre Dame Press. The volume brings together 14 scholars writing on both Romero and Catholic social teaching, with an eye to Romero’s historical context and the relevance of his thought today. Walatka, who teaches theology at the University of Notre Dame, recently corresponded with Cushwa graduate research assistant Katie Mascari about Romero’s pastoral context, his contributions to Catholic social thought, and the future of Romero studies.
Katie Mascari: This volume brings together an impressive group of scholars of Romero, Catholic social thought, and Latin American theology. How did the project come about? Amid the existing literature on Romero (much of which is authored by the contributors to this volume), what motivated this volume’s focus on Catholic social thought (CST)?
Todd Walatka: My own conviction for about a decade now is that there are few voices more relevant for our own times than Romero. Here we have a saintly figure of the Americas whose long, complex journey as a priest and bishop reveals much about the modern Church and the challenges we face. The history of El Salvador in Romero’s time (1917–1980) is a sort of microcosm for the economic, political, and ecclesial transformations of the 20th century that still form our world today. Romero lived and died in a time of great polarization, oppression, and violence, a time of the Church struggling to find its way in the modern world. Few journeys of faith capture so well the choices each of us faces and the courage it takes to live out the Gospel in its fullness.
Back in 2017, my former colleague and great supporter of the cause of Romero, Father Bob Pelton, C.S.C. (1921–2019), called for Romero to be declared “Pastoral Doctor of the Church” (a cause now taken up by the Salvadoran Church). At the time, I thought to myself, “this is exactly right,” and it is particularly in his contribution to CST that Romero stands out. These contributions span from his overarching reading of CST as essential to the evangelizing mission of the Church to concrete interpretations and applications of particular CST teachings in his Salvadoran context. For those who seek to truly understand and live out CST today, Romero’s life and preaching offer such an incredible resource, really an overabundance of riches. And, although many scholars had noted the importance of CST for Romero, few had explored it in real depth. Thus, in 2019, I developed a list of the best scholars I could think of to come together for such a project. Within a month, every one of them said yes and we were off and running.
KM: This volume exemplifies robust historical analysis that seems crucial for any study of Romero’s theology. From his developing responses to Salvadoran land reform throughout his priesthood to his dialogue as archbishop with campesinos occupying the Catedral Metropolitana in San Salvador, the contributions to this volume attend closely to the concrete circumstances in which Romero’s theology develops. What do we learn from Romero about the role of contextual theology in interpreting the Church’s social tradition?
TW: Whenever I think about these questions in relation to Romero, certain passages from his preaching jump to my mind. These are usually moments that make a rather simple and yet urgently important point for understanding and living out CST. One of my favorites is from his homily from January 15, 1978: “Christ is so profoundly incarnated in our people that we celebrate him as something that is typically ours . . . My preaching should not be the same here in El Salvador as it would be there in Africa or at some other time in history. Rather I want to preach Christ who becomes incarnate here in El Salvador in 1978, the Christ who accompanies us through the changes of our actual history, the Christ who sheds light on the events of this week.” Romero was not a systematic theologian sitting in his study trying to work out intricate philosophical matters. Instead, his theology comes from his commitment to be a preacher of the living Word of God, from his attempt to understand and proclaim that Word into a context of suffering, division, and violence.
Romero speaks of Christ accompanying the people. Yet this image of accompaniment also reflects well the heart of Romero’s own journey. Romero’s heart was always open to the suffering of his people. For example, as a priest for decades in San Miguel, in the eastern part of El Salvador, he had a strong commitment to helping those struggling with alcohol addiction, a social crisis he saw wreaking havoc on families and his community. But over time, as both priest and, starting in 1970, as auxiliary bishop of San Salvador, Romero became more of an ecclesiastical administrator and he gradually lost contact with the everyday realities of his people. Then as bishop of the rural diocese of Santiago de Maria (1974–1976), Romero saw suffering he could not ignore. He saw campesinos deprived of just wages; migrants working long hours with no place to sleep; children without medicine or education; and harsh rejections of even small demands for a more just system. We could say that during this time, Romero again was truly accompanying his people. As archbishop (1977–1980), he would continue this path.
Here I’m struck by a very simple line I first came across when reading Matthew Whelan’s excellent study of Romero on CST and land reform, Blood in the Fields. On August 5, 1979, Romero speaks of the terrible and desperate situation of campesinos whose wages are insufficient to buy what is needed for even bare subsistence. In this moment, Romero notes, “I have seen it up close on the farms.” He knew these people; he knew their names; he knew their stories and struggles. I wonder how many pastoral leaders today could make such a statement. Yet for Romero, this is the key foundation for interpreting CST well. As the chapters in the book show—particularly in part one—his appeal to CST came within a journey towards an ever-deeper presence alongside his suffering people, of genuine accompaniment and a preferential option for the poor.
These points bring me to a third passage, one that Jon Sobrino quotes in his chapter in our book. “It is very easy to talk about the social doctrine of the Church, but it is difficult to put it into practice . . . It is easy to preach the Pope’s teachings theoretically; to follow his magisterium faithfully in theory is very easy. But when it comes to living, when it comes to embodying, when it comes to making those salutary teachings reality in the history of a suffering people, that is when conflicts arise. It is not that I have been unfaithful. Never! To the contrary, I feel that today I am more faithful than ever because I experience the testing, the suffering, and the intimate joy of proclaiming a doctrine that I’ve always believed and loved. And I proclaim it not just with words and lip service, but I am trying to make it come alive in this community the Lord has entrusted to me” (July 2, 1978). This passage illustrates well some of the reasons why Romero was killed. He stood with his people; he defended their dignity; he stood with the social teachings of the Church; he sought to make these teachings genuinely real in his community.
KM: Through Romero, we gain a closer look at the distinct contributions of the episcopal conferences of Medellín and Puebla to Catholic social thought, grounded in the Latin American context. Throughout the volume, we see how Medellín, and especially Puebla, are integral to Romero’s prophetic proclamation of CST. How do Romero’s preaching and ministry illuminate the importance of Medellín and Puebla for understanding Catholic social teaching?
TW: The Latin American bishops conferences were absolutely foundational for Romero. As archbishop, he saw the documents of Medellín (1968)—particularly the texts on “Justice,” “Peace,” and “The Poverty of the Church”—as a sure guide for authentic Christian living in a context marked by widespread poverty, underdevelopment, and oppression. He quoted these texts frequently and encouraged his people to study them in groups. He attended the conference at Puebla (1979) and frequently celebrated the insights of the final text, particularly the strong affirmation of the “preferential option for the poor.” Nearly every homily he preached in his final year quotes Puebla and his fourth and final pastoral letter is explicitly framed as an application of Puebla to the evermore polarized and violent context of his diocese.
All of this is crucial for understanding Romero as a deeply Latin American thinker. Yet a key thread of the book involves a broader argument concerning how we think about the development of Christian theology and Church teaching regarding where we see the Spirit working within the People of God. I have seen how hard it can be for many in Catholic theology to break out of a Rome- and West-centered theological imagination. This is particularly true for CST, for this tradition is indeed centered on formal magisterial teaching from Rome. Most histories of the development of particular social teachings, therefore, focus almost exclusively on papal documents. Take the topic of “Peace.” Foundational here is typically Gaudium et Spes from Vatican II (1965) and John XXIII’s Pacem in Terris (1963). Following these two, histories will typically emphasize key advancements under Paul VI, John Paul II, and Francis, particularly in relation to human development and a skepticism towards war. These histories aren’t wrong, but they give an overly narrow picture. Romero turns frequently to papal texts in his preaching—he was insistent on his fidelity to these texts. Yet he also saw an essential contribution to CST from within the Latin American Church—and then, I would argue, became a beacon of that contribution.
For Romero, Medellín’s document on peace builds upon the foundational vision of Gaudium et Spes but in a way that is far more responsive to how systematic injustice stands as a violence in opposition to true peace. Medellín offers a far more synthetic picture, tying the pursuit of peace to the struggle to create a society that truly respects human dignity. One thinks here of Martin Luther King Jr.’s famous juxtaposing of a “noxious negative peace”—a seemingly peaceful status quo that is built upon marginalization and oppression—with a “positive peace” grounded in justice. Romero’s homilies and pastoral letters develop this vision of peace with a prophetic vigor: if you are for peace, if you serve the Prince of Peace, you must first and foremost seek to transform situations of institutionalized violence, of structural injustice which generate immense suffering and the seeds of further violence in society.
Pope Francis has called on Catholics to “go to the peripheries,” not only to bring mercy, but also to learn, to encounter God’s truth and grace in new, challenging ways. In my mind, Romero is a sort of gateway to one of these peripheries. On the one hand, he welcomed and indeed treasured much of what is given from the “center” (in this case, formal social teaching). On the other, he lived and interpreted that teaching from among the poor, from and for the sake of his suffering people. My hope is that our book shows how essential his voice—alongside many others from the margins—is for all those who seek to bring forth the riches of CST for today.
KM: Multiple chapters place Romero in conversation with developments in Catholic social thought since his death in 1980, from John Paul II to Pope Francis. What aspects of Romero’s preaching and ministry are most salient for considering recent developments in CST, especially in light of Pope Francis’ distinctly Latin American perspective?
TW: It is difficult to know where to start here! Nearly every single major point of emphasis in Francis in relation to CST has deep roots in earlier Latin American thinkers and texts, including Romero. Indeed, sometimes it feels like Francis is trying to help the Church catch up to Romero. Many examples related to CST could be given here. Francis has famously emphasized the preferential option for the poor, that we should have a “poor Church for the poor.” Romero’s life and texts proclaim such a reality with great force, drawing upon both Medellín and Puebla. On peace, Francis has continued a trajectory from John Paul II of greater skepticism towards the justness of wars, while at the same time strongly insisting upon the need for justice for the oppressed. I would be so bold to say that there is no figure who more profoundly draws these two commitments together than Romero. And there is more. Romero’s reflections on faith and politics and on the place and role of popular movements remain both strikingly relevant for our time and anticipate much of what Francis says in his encyclicals and addresses. Perhaps less known, Romero’s fourth and final pastoral letter (August 1979) called for accompaniment as a fundamental pastoral posture, which of course Francis has taken up with vigor. And even more striking, Romero implemented a process that we might now call “synodal” in the writing of that text. A diocesan survey and diverse consultations were foundational for Romero’s text and teaching. Many more examples could be given here, but the basic point is clear and it is one that is made at least implicitly in many places in our book: If you want to understand Francis and where he is coming from, there are few better places to turn than Romero.
KM: In the closing chapter, Peter Cassarella writes that this volume may be “a way station in the consideration of Romero’s role as a doctor of the Church.” What is the next step for Romero studies? What aspects of Romero’s theology and praxis are ripe for further engagement and exploration?
TW: Working together on this book with so many incredible scholars strengthened my conviction that Romero’s witness is one that we desperately need today. I see our main work going forward as twofold. One is simply to help as many people encounter the witness of this saint, and—through him—the witness of thousands of other Salvadoran Christians. For example, I would love to see a high school CST course (often a senior-year elective in U.S. Catholic schools) that centers on the preaching and witness of Romero. If my experience with my own students is at all representative, such a course would facilitate a more effective and deeper encounter with the urgent call that CST makes to each one of us. I also have recently finished writing a second book on Romero that introduces him to a more general audience through his homilies. I hope that this text can be used in many contexts, from classrooms to parishes, to bring even more people to know his witness. The second task is the more focused scholarly work of critical analysis and exploration of Romero’s life and writings. Here, I honestly think we are just at the tip of the iceberg in terms of what Romero offers to the Church and the academy. This past fall, we had five “working group” sessions to explore your exact question, with over thirty participants from around the world at each session, and this will be followed up by a major conference here at Notre Dame on March 24–25, 2025 (sponsored by both the Kellogg Institute and the Cushwa Center). Many of the topics I previously named in terms of his anticipation of Pope Francis certainly deserve deeper engagement: Christian views of violence, the relationship between faith and politics, pastoral work and accompaniment, and synodality as a way of being Church. I would also add here the possibility of work on the ministry of bishops and theologies of preaching. There is also important work to be done on the “early” Romero, on his time as a priest in the eastern part of the country.
We stand at an incredibly exciting time in the study of Romero as a saint of the Americas. My hope is that this book on Romero and CST is just the start of our work. The designation of “Doctor of the Church” would be an official recognition of his broad impact to theology and formal Church teaching. I think he should be named as such, but his impact right now is as much potential as a reality in the universal Church. Many have been content to ignore or suppress his prophetic and saintly witness. The recognition of him as a Doctor of the Church will come as more and more people see his preaching and other writings as a true wellspring of Christian truth. A key task going forward is simply to treat him as such and go wherever that leads.
This interview appears in the spring 2025 issue of the American Catholic Studies Newsletter.