Evangelical churches are growing in Latin America to the detriment of Catholicism.

Buenos AiresA modern building in the middle of the residential neighborhood of Parque Chacabuco, in Buenos Aires, has its doors open on a Sunday afternoon. A variety of people gather—young people, older people, children, and teenagers—greeting each other, chatting, and hugging. It's just a few minutes before seven in the evening, when the meeting begins. On the black facade, there's an illuminated drawing of a bell and some letters that call it "Cathedral of Faith." It's an evangelical church.

Behind the glass doors is a large lobby, a religious bookseller, and stairs leading to a second floor containing small rooms with chairs and blackboards, recording studios, and a hallway leading to the headquarters of the Evangelical University of Argentina, which opened its doors in March. In the background is the meeting room, a vast, two-story space with rows of chairs and a huge stage with a screen behind it where, when the liturgy begins, you can follow the lyrics of the songs performed live by a group of musicians.

People move to the music, sing, get up from their chairs, and raise their arms, often with their eyes closed. Virginia, 37, has come with her baby: "I've been coming for three months," she says, "and the truth is that I feel very good here." She has invited her friend Sandra for the first time, who for now says she feels very "comfortable" in this space: "I feel that here everyone can live their faith however they want." This is precisely the point emphasized by the son of the pastor of this church, Sebastián Carnival, in conversation with ARA: "Evangelicalism is a practical and accessible faith, to which everyone has access."

Although he avoids contrasting it with the Catholic faith, in a way he does so, considering that Argentina is a predominantly Catholic country and the comparison is almost inevitable. "In other branches of Christianity, people sometimes don't find the means to develop their faith," he says. He explains that they believe in a living Jesus, with whom they speak every day and with whom they have a "personal" relationship: "He responds to us through signs, through daily miracles."

Evangelicalism (or evangelical Protestantism) is one of the religions that most grows in the world, and Latin America –a region with a Catholic tradition since the European conquest–, is one of them current strongholds, along with the United StatesFrom Protestantism, which emerged in Germany in the 16th century with Luther's Reformation, various currents in Europe arose, such as Anglicanism, Lutheranism, Methodism, and Calvinism. Later, in the north of the American continent, the branches of Baptism, Methodism, Adventism, and Pentecostalism developed. Specifically, the evangelical scene in Latin America today is dominated by Pentecostals and neo-Pentecostals.

Pablo Semán, a sociologist and anthropologist specializing in religions, identifies two key factors in the spread of Pentecostalism in Latin America. "The main idea that Pentecostals contribute is that the Holy Spirit works in this world and now," that is, that everyday miracles are possible. "In Catholicism, the gifts of the Holy Spirit are metaphorical, but in the evangelical faith, the Holy Spirit acts when you are distressed, moved, shed tears, healed from an illness... and miracles become normal," he tells ARA.

The other factor is the universal priesthood, which, while a principle of classical evangelical theory, is reinforced in this particular branch: while the Catholic priestly order "is separated from the world" and participation is "restricted in a clerical and hierarchical Church," in evangelicalism. Furthermore, pastors are part of their own community or neighborhood, so they know the context in which they preach and—Semán emphasizes—are much closer to the faithful. They don't always receive compensation in exchange for their pastoral work; in fact, they often have other jobs. For Semán, the expansion of the evangelical faith over the last century in the region has been a response "to the monopoly that Catholicism had" and "against societies that were religiously plural, but not institutionally plural."

Bolsonaro's disturbing precedent

The rise of evangelicalism in the region also generates great suspicion in public opinion, especially in the wake of the Brazilian case and The proximity that the evangelical communities of that country had with the victory of former President Jair Bolsonaro in the 2018 elections. Semán warns that this was an "exceptional" case in the political behavior of evangelicals in Latin America, who "have never mobilized so much around a single political axis." Despite being Catholic, the far-right activist campaigned at evangelical gatherings and established roots in the community by promoting the idea that Brazil was experiencing "a moral crisis," while his political rival, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, was convicted of corruption.

Alongside an ultraconservative agenda, the "theology of prosperity" was disseminated, which focuses on the economic well-being and health of the faithful. Semán points out that evangelical churches are carrying out social work that no one else is doing, "neither the state nor any political party."

In the municipality of Rafael Calzada, an hour south of Buenos Aires, about twenty people meet at their church on a Saturday afternoon. It's modest, made of sheet metal, a small warehouse or recycled garage, with white lights and plastic chairs. The pastor speaks energetically, holding a microphone, accompanied by a keyboard player playing chords. "God didn't choose us to live dull lives, but to illuminate this world of darkness," he says, repeating that we must "take Jesus' hand and let God direct me to be successful this year." He speaks of the "millionaire mentality," that is, saving money when things are going well, reminding everyone that "if you spend more than you earn, you'll always be in debt," and assuring everyone that "we will end the year blessed and victorious." He asks for applause for Jesus and then invites everyone to contribute whatever offering they can in a small box at the front of the room.

Once the meeting was over, Pastor Juan and his wife, Sabrina, who had sung a few songs, explained to ARA that they had recently provided financial assistance to a neighbor whose house had burned down. They assert that they are always "attentive" to the needs of those around them, and Juan specifies that, "of course, we prioritize those of the people in the church, of our family." "I can't give shoes to my neighbor and have my son walk barefoot," he says, adding, "As Jesus said, there will always be poor people."