What Explains the Rise of Evangelicals in Latin America?

The world’s most Catholic region – and spiritual home to both the previous and current Pope – in reality ceased to be exclusively Catholic quite some time ago. Long overlooked and now widely discussed, the mass conversion of large sections of the population to various forms of Evangelicalism stands as one of the most significant demographic, cultural, and attitudinal transformations in Latin America in recent decades. For a long time, Evangelical groups remained on the fringes of political life, but today, they are firmly embedded in the heart of political debate and have become major political players. Depending on the prevailing political and media climate, critical analyses and sensationalist headlines appear at regular intervals. Too often, however, Evangelicals are portrayed in oscillating terms – as exotic curiosities with undertones of alarmism or in the sense of “othering”¹. The dominant narrative has tended to frame Evangelicals as a new reactionary force, often reducing them to their political significance and interpreting them as an anachronism in an increasingly secular modern age. However, as the present article aims to show, Evangelicalism is not an outdated throwback; rather, it is a product of Latin America’s distinct path to late modernity² – a development shaped by specific sociocultural and political conditions that have proved particularly fertile in this context.

Even on closer inspection, the growth of Evangelicalism in Latin America remains striking. Once only 4 per cent of the population in 1970, Evangelicals now account for 24.6 per cent of the region’s population. However, this picture is far from uniform: Indeed, in countries such as Mexico (4.4 per cent), Uruguay (4.6 per cent), and Argentina (6.3 per cent), Evangelicals remain a minority. Nevertheless, in Brazil (25.5 per cent), Venezuela (31.4 per cent), and especially Central America and the Caribbean – specifically, in Costa Rica (56.0 per cent), Panama (55.0 per cent), and the Dominican Republic (50.3 per cent) – they account for a significant share of the total population. That said, growth has slowed noticeably in recent years.³

Evangelicalism as a product of late modernity

The term “Evangelical” remains heavily loaded with stereotypes, particularly in Germany. Evangelicals are variously described as a sect or as a threat to democracy and tend to be associated with figures like Trump and Bolsonaro. Moreover, what it actually means to be an Evangelical is often poorly understood, which is due in no small part to the sheer heterogeneity of currents, denominations, organizations, and missions. The confusion is compounded by the fact that the term has different religious connotations in Latin America as compared with Europe or the United States. It thus only makes sense to speak of Evangelicals in the plural.⁴ In countries such as Venezuela or Brazil, there are many thousands of independent churches, thereby making the term imprecise, fluid, and subject to constant negotiation as to who self-identifies as an Evangelical and who is identified as such by others. The term is thus only useful for drawing very broad outlines.

In Latin America, it is particularly Pentecostal and neo-Pentecostal groups – such as the Assembleia de Deus and the Igreja Universal do Reino de Deus (IURD) – that have gained influence, whereas practitioners of historical Protestant traditions – that is, members of the so-called immigrant churches, including Lutherans, Methodists, and Calvinists – are referred to as protestantes and are not usually labelled as Evangelicals. For this reason, the focus in the present article is primarily on (neo-)Pentecostal groups. Pentecostalism and neo-Pentecostalism are characterized by a strong emphasis on the workings of the Holy Spirit, which in practice finds expression in exorcisms and prophecy as well as in healing through prayer.⁵ If common ground is sought within this dynamic, heterogeneous, complex spectrum, these groups are united above all by a pronounced devotion to Jesus and the Cross as well as by a strong focus on the Bible. Evangelicals are also Christians by personal choice, with their religious identity being consciously and individually chosen. Finally, Evangelicals are deeply religious, activist, socially engaged, and mission-driven groups. In short, Evangelicals are people with a mission.⁶ These four defining characteristics are arguably key to the success and continued growth of Evangelical groups in Latin America. The idea of Christianity based on individual conversion enables these groups to become culturally embedded within modernity and late modernity, in which the religious self is always subject to the optionality of belief.⁷ Being Christian by personal commitment aligns well with late modernity’s dominant values, such as authenticity and autonomy.⁸ As a result, Evangelical identity tends to play a far more central role in shaping an individual’s worldview, ethical beliefs, and political convictions. At the same time, Evangelical churches have become highly effective at staging worship as an event. In this way, faith becomes a consumable, emotional, and experience-driven offering.

Faith in motion: Urbanization as a driver of Pentecostalism

In addition to this cultural embedding within late modernity, Pentecostal groups have managed to offer a refuge for those uprooted by urbanization – that is, for the rural poor pushed into the cities and left socially adrift. The rapid spread of Pentecostal groups from the 1960s onwards correlates strikingly with the sweeping urbanization that took place across Latin America over the same period. Between 1950 and 2010, the urban population increased from around 30 to approximately 85 per cent – a demographic shift of historic proportions.⁹ It was during this period that today’s megacities such as São Paulo and Mexico City became global urban centres. As a result, the traditional Catholic ties – hierarchical, corporatist, and personalized – that had previously shaped rural society began to dissolve. For many impoverished migrants who had left their communities behind and now had to find their way in sprawling, fragmented metropolises such as Rio de Janeiro, (neo-)Pentecostal churches provided a valuable resource in the face of social dislocation – and they continue to do so. The close-knit personal networks of the congregation, the emphasis on a personal relationship with Jesus, and – in typical Pentecostal fashion – highly charged emotional and spiritual experiences all offer individuals new forms of support in the urban context.¹⁰ Moreover, in many marginalized urban neighbourhoods, Pentecostal churches are the only institutions with a constant presence. They step into the vacuum left by absent state structures, taking on roles of care, community-building, and moral guidance.¹¹ In this type of environment, the seemingly clear-cut biblical worldview offered by these churches provides a coherent interpretive framework. In contexts marked by extreme poverty, violence, and social marginalization, people need a faith that offers clear boundaries and rules – a faith that equips individuals to resist the ever-present lure of self-destruction.¹² Faith may not move mountains here, but it does change lived realities.

Faith under market conditions

The evolution of the early Pentecostal garage churches on the urban periphery into the neo-Pentecostal glass palaces found in major city centres from the 1980s onwards can also be read as a story of social and economic ascent.¹³ Whereas Pentecostal churches originally focused on the marginalized, neo-Pentecostal congregations increasingly draw from the urban, upwardly mobile middle classes, often from the second generation of Pentecostal families.¹⁴ Neo-Pentecostal groups have developed a form of religion that aligns – organizationally, theologically, and socially – with the values of a status-conscious and consumption-oriented middle class. Faith becomes an experience that is customizable and that is functionally differentiated within a religious marketplace that is shaped by flexibility and by a logic of performance – that is, a faith under market conditions.¹⁵ In Montevideo, Bogotá, and Curitiba, for example, worshippers at the Igreja Universal – the largest neo-Pentecostal Church in Latin America – can find a service tailored to nearly every life situation and question: On Mondays, services for success; on Tuesdays, services for healing; on Wednesdays, Bible study; on Thursdays, services for love; and on Fridays, services for exorcisms – several times a day across the entire region. This business model has earned the Igreja Universal the mocking nickname supermercado de fe – that is, the “supermarket of faith”.¹⁶

Growth as an indicator of success

At the heart of this context is a functional shift towards a “growth ethos”: The numerical expansion of congregations is not only seen as a sign of divine blessing, but also becomes a measure of legitimacy and success in itself. Moreover, mission in this context becomes an end in itself. This situation is institutionally reflected in so-called megachurches – that is, in places of worship that regularly attract several thousand attendees and that visibly project a new form of self-confidence.¹⁷ Examples include Fraternidad Cristiana in Guatemala City (15,000 weekly attendees), Rey de Reyes in Buenos Aires (30,000), and Centro Familiar de Adoración in Asunción (4,000).¹⁸ This new self-image is most dramatically embodied in the Templo de Salomão, which was inaugurated in São Paulo in 2014 and was built by the IURD. Modelled on the biblical Temple of Solomon – though greatly exceeding the latter’s original dimensions – it can accommodate up to 10,000 worshippers. In its monumental architecture and theatrical staging, the temple serves as a symbol of late modern sacrality – one that fuses religious belonging with economic success and cultural capital.¹⁹

Prosperity over asceticism

The development of the so‑called prosperity gospel (“prosperity of health and wealth”) – which lies at the heart of the neo‑Pentecostal message – reflects the expectation of symbolic and material advancement among its followers. Theologically, this development also marks a shift in focus away from guilt, asceticism, and the Cross – which have traditionally been central to both Evangelical and Pentecostal belief – and towards salvation and blessing.²⁰ These typically neo‑Pentecostal notions of poverty and wealth have become particularly influential in Latin America over recent decades. While in his analysis The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism²¹, Max Weber identified diligence, discipline, and asceticism as central drivers of capitalist development in the Protestant societies of the 19th century, with work being understood as a divinely ordained calling, the prosperity gospel reverses this logic, with wealth becoming a visible sign of divine favour and a direct consequence of faith – an indicator of spiritual strength and blessing. Unlike liberation theology, in which poverty has at times been romanticized, neo‑Pentecostal groups promise to overcome poverty. To put it more pointedly: While the Catholic Church opted for the poor, the poor opted for the neo‑Pentecostals. The first to achieve financial success is often the pastor – a fact that is seen not as a contradiction, but rather as confirmation of divine blessing and as a model to aspire to. Wealth is thus regarded as proof of a living faith. The individual believer is by no means just a passive object of religious manipulation; rather, the act of giving – that is, of making donations – creates a moment of agency. Those who give, act deliberately in so doing, in a sense investing in their own (financial) blessing. Belief in wealth as a divine promise often becomes a kind of self‑fulfilling prophecy, with hope and action reinforcing each other. At the same time, many believers who have for years given what little they had to the Church remain poor – a situation often interpreted as a sign of their lack of faith – while their pastors become millionaires. The tension between spiritual empowerment and economic exploitation is an inescapable part of the neo-Pentecostal movement’s ambivalent nature.

Achieving the Kingdom of God on earth

While classical Pentecostal congregations in the 1970s were largely socially marginalized, practised their faith in isolated parallel worlds, and tended to be apolitical, neo-Pentecostal groups have actively called for political representation, even going on to reshape the political landscape of their region. This transformation is best understood as a response to a mutually reinforcing set of social, theological, and political changes.

Firstly, as outlined above, neo-Pentecostal groups have undergone a process of upward social mobility. This new sense of confidence has translated into a political will to shape society. Secondly, the import of both a new interpretation of the “Kingdom of God”²² and a revised eschatology (i.e. the doctrine of “last things”) provided the theological framework for a radical redefinition of the relationship between Church and world. For generations, Evangelicals in Latin America had expected the imminent Second Coming of Christ and the end of days, effectively placing them in a kind of waiting room of history.²³ Following Jesus’ words “My kingdom is not of this world”²⁴, this pessimistic eschatology led to a withdrawal from political life. Indeed, why change the world if it is about to end? However, this expectation of an imminent end was gradually abandoned in the 1990s, when neo-Pentecostal groups instead began to view the coming of the Kingdom of God as a historical and political process – one that required active participation and influence (a shift from pre-millennialism to post-millennialism²⁵). This more positive view of the future elevated political engagement in elections and civic involvement to the status of a geo-spiritual mission – that is, of a “cosmic struggle” to conquer and claim spiritual territory.²⁶ The world beyond the Church was no longer to be shunned, but to be redeemed and liberated.²⁷ A prime example of this new vision can be found in the book Plano de Poder (“Plan of Power”) by Edir Macedo, founder and bishop of the IURD. In it, Macedo sets out the political ambitions of his Church, drawing selectively on the Old Testament and formulating the gradual conquest of the (Brazilian) presidential palace as a strategic goal. “Pastors became politicians – and believers became citizens.”²⁸ Thirdly, these social and theological shifts of the 1980s coincided in many Latin American countries with a period of political opening after decades of military dictatorships – a process that made the political participation of new actors such as neo-Pentecostal groups possible in the first place. In Guatemala, for example, the final years of the dictatorship bore witness to the rise of Evangelical figures to national leadership, including the military ruler General Efraín Ríos Montt and later the democratically elected Jorge Serrano Elías.²⁹

Latin America’s winding paths to modernity

Secularization – the universal master narrative of religion’s declining social role in the process of modernization³⁰ – appears unconvincing in the Latin American context. Rather than confirming this pattern, the (neo-)Pentecostal growth trajectory should be understood as part of the region’s own distinct path to modernity. In fact, developments on two of the three levels of secularization identified by Charles Taylor run counter to this theory.³¹

A moral agenda at the centre

Firstly, at the subjective-individual level – as already outlined – the shift from Catholicism to Evangelical, Pentecostal, and neo-Pentecostal groups has led to a heightened sense of religious identity. Once taken for granted, faith has now been redefined as a conscious personal decision. Nominal Catholics often become highly devout Evangelicals whose religious identity shapes a person’s everyday life, partner choices, and worldview. As Evangelicals see themselves as the “light and salt of the Earth” and belief can no longer be assumed to be self-evident, the key marker of distinction from surrounding culture is often found in matters of religious ethics. Topics grouped under the term “moral agenda” – such as abortion, homosexuality, sex education, and so-called gender ideology – have gained political significance and have become key issues in terms of how individuals vote. The result is that Evangelicals often take on the role of culture warriors.

Religion in the public sphere

Secondly, at the societal level – where secularization is understood to be the erosion of religious content in different areas of society and its retreat into the private sphere – Latin America has in fact seen a marked resurgence of religion in both politics and society. The growth of (neo-)Pentecostalism and its increasing engagement with the world since the 1990s has translated into a powerful public presence. Whether in the form of garage churches in poor neighbourhoods, sleek glass buildings, or the replica of Solomon’s Temple in São Paulo, Evangelical churches are a visible part of the urban landscape in countries such as Brazil. However, the expansion of these churches is not only numerical: As explicitly Evangelical actors, they have also gained considerable social relevance.³² With powerful radio and television networks, mass events, universities, and cultural productions such as TV series and films alongside highly visible public worship, these actors permeate every aspect of public life. The convergence of religion, economics, and politics is best embodied by Edir Macedo: One of Brazil’s wealthiest men and owner of RecordTV, the country’s second-largest broadcaster, Macedo acts as a religious entrepreneur with significant political influence. While he initially supported Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Dilma Rousseff, RecordTV became a key amplifier of Bolsonaro’s presidential campaign in 2018. However, Macedo had no qualms about later moving back into the Lula camp. By the same token, politicians deliberately seek proximity to Evangelical groups and stage public religious practices to align themselves with Evangelical discourse. Brazil once again offers particularly striking examples: In May 2016, the Catholic Jair Bolsonaro was publicly baptized in the River Jordan by Everaldo Pereira.³³ Nevertheless, due to their internal diversity, Evangelical groups in Latin America have repeatedly failed to establish themselves as a cohesive political bloc, with confessionally aligned party projects having regularly collapsed. Instead, Evangelical groups tend to mobilize around specific issues that serve as identity markers,³⁴ as can be seen in Colombia, where religiously charged criticism of gender identity provisions played a significant role in the failure of the referendum on the peace agreement between the government and the FARC (Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia).³⁵ Although Evangelical groups tend to mobilize primarily around socio-political issues and generally lean towards more conservative positions, centre-left actors have also succeeded in attracting significant Evangelical constituencies. For instance, in 2018, the Mexican Evangelical party Partido Encuentro Social formed an electoral alliance with the left-wing MORENA (Movimiento Regeneración Nacional), thereby allowing “Evangelical votes” to benefit leftist candidate Andrés Manuel López Obrador.³⁶ Evangelical groups and actors are therefore politically flexible and do not cast confessional votes. If anything, Evangelical voting behaviour is better described as being values-driven.

Religion in the plural

Thirdly, secularization is not understood simply as a decline in the significance of religion, but rather as an “expansion of options” – a phenomenon that can indeed be observed in Latin America. In this sense, the Catholic Church – with its uniform devotional practices, unequivocal doctrines, and socially dominant worldview – is gradually losing its monopoly.³⁷ This is by no means a rupture with a previously homogeneous religious order: Indeed, the region has always been shaped by ongoing syncretism, blending Catholic traditions with Indigenous and African influences. In this new religious landscape, (neo-)Pentecostal groups have proved especially adaptable. Thanks to their decentralized structures, their proximity to everyday realities, and their organizational focus on charismatic individuals, these groups are able to offer individualized, context-sensitive forms of religious engagement. In Latin America’s increasingly socially segmented societies, (neo-)Pentecostal groups have thus succeeded in providing tailored spiritual and social responses to different milieux.

Modernity in Latin America appears to be defined not by religion’s retreat, but rather by a constant dovetailing of the sacred and the secular both by religious differentiation and by the adaptation of faith to the conditions of late modern capitalist life. The Evangelical growth story thus stands as a counterpoint to the Eurocentric master narrative of secularization in modernity. If, however, modernity is understood in the plural, Latin America may be seen as an example of a parallel modernity in which religion has retained its relevance. The (neo-)Pentecostal groups described here in particular have created functional and adaptable expressions of faith for many people in the 21st century, and these expressions have also taken visible political form. Indeed, the emergence of Evangelical actors in the political arenas of the continent reflects a social reality that has already taken shape and that signals the need for the democratic integration of these groups. Contrary to some portrayals, these groups cannot be clearly placed on a single point of the political spectrum, for they have demonstrated a flexible and diverse political presence. That said, the merging of political and religious discourse and practice also harbours the risk of a new kind of intransigence. The separation of religion and politics is undoubtedly a key achievement of modernity that has helped to foster social peace. As the present article has shown, the infusion of religion into political debate has often rendered Evangelical groups vulnerable to polarizing actors, thereby drawing them into divisive culture wars. Even so, the alarmist tone that is sometimes adopted by commentators warning of the “Evangelicals” is exaggerated. Indeed, precisely because of their internal diversity, the direct political impact of these groups remains limited.

Jonathan Neu is Trainee at the Konrad-Adenauer-Stiftung’s Regional Programme Party Dialogue and Democracy in Latin America, based in Montevideo.

1. Othering refers to the process of constructing certain groups as “the others”, thereby setting them apart from an imagined “us”. These “others” are typically seen not as equals, but as alien or threatening. ↩︎
2. This use of the term “late modernity” (Spätmoderne) follows Andreas Reckwitz, who distinguishes the period from the earlier period of industrial modernity and views the former as beginning in approximately the 1970s. In contrast to “postmodernity”, the term “late modernity” emphasises the lines of continuity within modernity. ↩︎
3. Latinobarómetro, Corporación Latinobarómetro, Corporación Latinobarómetro Website, published 2023, https://ogy.de/i2q8, accessed 15 May 2025. ↩︎
4. José Luis Pérez Guadalupe, Evangelicals and Political Power in Latin America, Konrad-Adenauer-Stiftung Website, published 17 June 2019, https://ogy.de/09pg, accessed 7 August 2025, p. 18. ↩︎
5. Margit Eckholt, “Pfingstlich bewegt und befreiungstheologisch geerdet? Die ‘Pentekostalisierung’ des Christentums in Lateinamerika und Herausforderungen für den lateinamerikanischen Katholizismus”, in Polykarp Ulin Agan (ed.), Pentekostalismus – Pfingstkirchen (Siegburg: 2017), pp. 33–57, here p. 43. ↩︎
6. Thorsten Dietz, Menschen mit Mission: Eine Landkarte der evangelikalen Welt (Leck: 2022). ↩︎
7. Charles Taylor, Ein säkulares Zeitalter, translated by Joachim Schulte (Regensburg: 2007), p. 14. ↩︎
8. Andeas Reckwitz, Die Gesellschaft der Singularitäten. Zum Strukturwandel der Moderne (Berlin: 2017), pp. 9 ff.; Mathias Lindenau and Marcel Meier Kressig (eds.), Autonomie: Maßstab, Ideal oder Illusion? (Bielefeld: transcript, 2023), https://ogy.de/gpi6, accessed 19 September 2025, pp. 9 f. ↩︎
9. TK Elevator, Urbanisierung und Bauprojekte im Zeitalter des smarten Lateinamerika, TK Elevator Website, published 2 September 2020, https://ogy.de/ai7s, accessed 19 June 2025. ↩︎
10. Sílvia Fernandes, Christianity in Brazil. An Introduction from a Global Perspective (London: 2021), pp. 144 f. ↩︎
11. Claudia Zilla, Die Evangelikalen und die Politik in Brasilien. Die Relevanz des religiösen Wandels in Lateinamerika, Stiftung Wissenschaft und Politik Website, published 2 December 2019, https://ogy.de/x7oj, accessed 19 June 2025. ↩︎
12. Fernandes 2021, n. 10, pp. 145 f. ↩︎
13. Pérez Guadalupe 2019, n. 4, p. 47. ↩︎
14. Regarding the example of Guatemala: Ruth Hümmer-Hutzel, Religion und Identität in Guatemala. Tendenzen individueller und kollektiver Emanzipierung für die guatemaltekische Bevölkerung unter religionssoziologischen Gesichtspunkten, Julius-Maximilians-Universität Würzburg Website, published 18 October 2019, https://ogy.de/nxjp, accessed 7 August 2025, p. 48; regarding the case of Brazil: Fernandes 2021, n. 10, pp. 145 ff.; for Latin America as a whole: Pérez Guadalupe 2019, n. 4, pp. 45 ff. ↩︎
15. Odêmio Antonio Ferrari, Bispo S/A. A Igreja Universal do Reino de Deus e o exercício do poder (São Paolo: 2007), p. 230. ↩︎
16. Iglesia Universal, Universal, Iglesia Universal Website, https://ogy.de/yf03, accessed 26 May 2025. ↩︎
17. René A. Tec-López, Between the Religious and the Secular. Latin American Neo-Pentecostalism in a Context of Multiple Modernities (Mexico City: 2024), https://ogy.de/ef8g, accessed 7 August 2025, p. 5. ↩︎
18. Henri Gooren et al., “Latin America”, in Afe Adogam et al. (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Megachurches (London: 2024), pp. 28–41. ↩︎
19. Michael Weiß, Sao Paulo: “Salomons Tempel” eingeweiht, Religion ORF Website, published 31 July 2014, https://ogy.de/txd0, accessed 19 June 2025. ↩︎
20. Óscar Amat y León Pérez, “Carisma y política. Motivaciones para la acción política en el Perú contemporáneo”, in Dorothea Ortmann (ed.), Anuario de Ciencias de la Religión: Las religiones en el Perú de hoy (Lima: 2004), p. 121. ↩︎
21. Max Weber, “Die protestantische Ethik und der Geist des Kapitalismus”, in Andrea Maurer (ed.), “Die protestantische Ethik und der ‘Geist’ des Kapitalismus” (Ditzingen: Reclam, 2017). ↩︎
22. Tec-López 2024, n. 17, p. 7. ↩︎
23. Pérez Guadalupe 2019, n. 4, p. 42. ↩︎
24. Luther Bible, John 18:36 (2017). ↩︎
25. Within Protestantism, there has been a growing tendency since the early modern period to place the Second Coming of Christ within a historical framework – a development driven by an increasing historical consciousness. Two eschatological doctrines in particular have gained influence: pre-millennialism and post-millennialism. The term “millennialism” derives from the Latin words mille (thousand) and annus (year) and refers to the thousand-year reign described in Revelation 20:1–10. There is debate as to whether Christ's return is to be expected before (pre), at the end of, or after (post) this millennial kingdom. Post-millennial interpretations assume that the Second Coming will be preceded by a period of evangelization and the work of the Holy Spirit. This reading naturally lends itself to the idea that believers are called to play an active role in this process – a link that reinforces political engagement as part of a broader spiritual mission. Rochus Leonhardt, Grundinformation Dogmatik (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2008), pp. 406 f. ↩︎
26. Darío López Rodríguez, Pentecostalismo y misión integral. Teología del espíritu, teología de la vida (Lima: Ediciones Puma, 2008), p. 107. ↩︎
27. Pérez Guadalupe 2019, n. 4, p. 47. ↩︎
28. José Luis Pérez Guadalupe, Pastores & Políticos. El protagonismo evangélico en la política latinoamericana, Konrad-Adenauer-Stiftung Website, published 11 July 2022, https://ogy.de/ipcd, accessed 26 May 2025. ↩︎
29. Zilla 2019, n. 11, p. 16. ↩︎
30. Jörg Haustein, “Die Pfingstbewegung als Alternative zur Säkularisierung? Zur Wahrnehmung einer globalen religiösen Bewegung des 20. Jahrhunderts“, in Säkularisierung und Neuformierung des Religiösen. Gesellschaft und Religion seit der Mitte des 20. Jahrhunderts, Archiv für Sozialgeschichte, no. 51, Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung Website, published 2011, pp. 553–555, here p. 552, https://ogy.de/b3mn, accessed 8 August 2025. ↩︎
31. Taylor 2007, n. 7, pp. 13 ff. ↩︎
32. Pérez Guadalupe 2019, n. 4, p. 27. ↩︎
33. Hernán D. Caro, Der Siegeszug der neuen Prediger, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung Website, published 14 September 2022, https://ogy.de/zt96, accessed 8 August 2025. ↩︎
34. Pérez Guadalupe 2019, n. 4, p. 60. ↩︎
35. Tec-López 2024, n. 18, p. 6; Caroline Oliveira, The realm of faith and politics. A project of power of Evangelical leaders in Brazil, Brasil de Fato Website, published 20 January 2020, https://bit.ly/45NsWT1, accessed 26 May 2025. ↩︎
36. Pérez Guadalupe 2019, n. 4, p. 153. ↩︎
37. Zilla 2019, n. 11, p. 31. ↩︎