HISTORICALLY, THEOLOGY HAS worked a lot like Reaganomics. Those with access to academic ivory towers get to theorize about God and spiritual meaning. Often, watered-down versions of these theories reach the rest of the population through pastoral care professionals and the few thinkers and writers who strive to make theology accessible.
One of the primary goals of activist theology, described by theologian Robyn Henderson-Espinoza in their new book Activist Theology, is to reverse this flow of meaning-making. The work of activist theology “is to invest in community, so that knowledge production is not top down from the academy but begins on the ground to move to the middle and tip the top.”
What does it mean to “tip the top?” Ideally, a revolution.
This starts with recognition of how social and political systems of oppression are supported by what the author calls “theologies of white supremacy” and Christian supremacy. There is a long history of theological systems that have exposed these issues, such as queer, womanist, mujerista, and liberation and black liberation theologies. Activist theology is an extension of these existing branches that center the marginalized. But instead of simply fighting theory with more theory, it prioritizes actions that resist and challenge the supremist systems of oppression.
Although Henderson-Espinoza’s past spans work in universities and “on the ground,” as a self-described intellectual activist, their voice more comfortably fits the former. But they break from the abstract through poignant, relevant examples—such as the deaths of Trayvon Martin and Mike Brown, and the resulting Black Lives Matter movement—to show how disruptions to the status quo happen and how to look for and act on them. They also make use of their personal history as a queer Latinx individual who grew up in Texas as the child of a Mexican immigrant mother and a white father. Such stories are crucial to activist theology, which ultimately draws power from a disruptive love.
This, to me, is the real strength of the foundation Henderson-Espinoza has laid out. Following the example of Jesus, oppressive systems of power do not fall by the sword but through radical acts of love and compassion. The author writes:
“What if learning to love ourselves and the center of our difference actually revolutionizes today’s work of learning to become human with one another? ... What if disruption created conditions of possibility for another world to materialize not through transactional relating but through the deep work of awakening from our shared inhumanity?”
Through such questions, the book is a call to action, to ask the right what-ifs and live out the answers.

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