How a conference in Lausanne changed the Protestant faith  

Lake Geneva with Lausanne cathedral. The Lausanne Congress in 1974 shaped Protestantism for the decades to come. Gaetan Bally / Keystone

Held in the middle of the Cold War, the Swiss congress on Lake Geneva gathered leaders from 150 countries and gave birth to a theology that challenged the dominance of the Global North. It redefined Christianity’s role in Latin America, Africa and Asia.

For a few days in the summer of 1974, Lausanne became the centre of the Christian world. It was there, on the shores of Lake Geneva, that the Lausanne Covenant was born – a document that sought to shape Protestant theology by uniting faith and social responsibility.

Half a century later, the legacy of that congress continues to divide the evangelical field between those who embrace its vision of faith as a commitment to social transformation, mainly led by countries in the Global South, and those who adhere to traditional evangelism, centred on individual conversion and mission expansion, led by the Global North.

“Perhaps the Lausanne Congress was the first indication that, within conservative Protestant circles, American domination, in both personnel and perspective, was beginning to be seriously challenged. The congress, however, only established the debate; it did not resolve it, and that discussion continues today,” says Brian Stanley, emeritus professor of World Christianity at the University of Edinburgh.

Switzerland at the centre of the world

Choosing Lausanne as the venue carried symbolism that transcended religion. Beyond the official justification that described it as “a place of peace, neutral ground, at the heart of Europe”, holding the meeting just a few kilometres from Geneva, the headquarters of the World Council of Churches (WCC), an inter-church organisation uniting Christians of some 120 countries, was also a political gesture. This move underscored a growing theological and institutional dissatisfaction with the WCC’s trajectory, particularly its increasingly liberal political involvement and perceived diminishing commitment to traditional evangelism.

The location represented the assertion of a Protestant current that questioned the authority of traditional ecumenical institutions and sought to reposition the spiritual axis of the West, mainly the United States and Europe, towards the Global South.

Stanley says several locations were suggested, but Lausanne’s symbolism prevailed, and it hosted about 2,400 participants from 150 countries.

“The British wanted something simple and inexpensive, like a holiday camp, but the Americans refused. Rome was considered, though quickly dismissed for obvious reasons, as were Amsterdam, Stockholm and Brussels,” he says. “I suspect Lausanne was chosen as a clear signal to the World Council of Churches in Geneva that broad sectors of the global Protestant community did not recognise its leadership.”

The Lausanne Movement

Over ten days of debate, prayer and theological reflection, Christian leaders discussed the role of faith in a changing world, in a neutral country that served as a bridge between East and West and, at that moment, offered a symbolic refuge for spiritual disputes. Amid Cold War tensions and the post-1968 era, which upended political, social and cultural norms worldwide, the congress redefined the very notion of Christian mission.

The Swiss meeting gave rise to the Lausanne Movement, a global network connecting religious leaders, scholars and organisations around the idea of an engaged, transnational and politically aware faith. Structured around regional and thematic initiatives, the movement transcended European and North American borders, consolidating its influence particularly in the Global South, where Protestantism found new paths between the pulpit and poor neighbourhoods.

In the decades that followed, these contrasts took new forms. Mainly three distinct and sometimes competing visions emerged on what it means to “live the Gospel”: one focused on evangelism and conversion, which is still strong in US missions; another on social transformation, embraced by churches in Latin America and Africa; and a third, the Prosperity Gospel, linking divine favour to material success – at this time, growing up around all the World.

The concept of “Comprehensive Mission” sought to interpret the gospel from the experience of the poor and oppressed masses. Keystone / AP

The Lausanne Covenant

The most enduring outcome of the congress was the Lausanne Covenant, drafted by a committee led by British theologian John Stott and influenced by the Latin American and African vision. The document declared that the Christian mission should integrate evangelism and social responsibility, breaking with the purely proselytising approach that had prevailed until then.

This proposal, later known as Integral Mission, was shaped by Latin American theologians such as René Padilla and Samuel Escobar, who adapted it to the realities of poverty, military dictatorships and inequality in Latin America. 

According to Samuel Araújo, a PhD candidate in Religious Studies at PUC São Paulo, Brazil, Integral Mission sought to address the same issues as Catholic Liberation Theology, which emerged in Latin America in the late 1960s as a movement within the Catholic Church that sought to interpret the Gospel from the perspective of the poor. Influenced by social analysis tools developed by Marxist thought, many of its proponents used class struggle as a framework to understand inequality. For that reason, critics, especially within conservative circles, accused the movement of politicising religion and aligning Christianity with leftist ideologies.

“In that sense, the Lausanne Movement acts as a catalyst. The real engine of Integral Mission was the Latin American exchange of ideas,” Araújo explains. The movement was crucial for Latin American Protestantism, which sought an autonomous identity, neither subordinated to Northern theological agendas nor dependent on Catholic social thought. Integral Mission thus offered an alternative: an engaged faith rooted in biblical and communal language, capable of engaging with marginalised realities.

According to Humberto Ramos, a scholar of religion and sociology at the Federal University of São Carlos in Brazil, Escobar and Padilla brought Latin America’s theological effervescence to Lausanne while maintaining the congress’s evangelical focus.

“They had the insight not to reject the congress’s central goal: the reaffirmation of commitment to world evangelisation and missionary fervour. Instead, they redefined and broadened it. They argued that evangelising the world must include justice and social transformation as integral and inseparable parts of that mission,” he says.

Why it still divides the world

The covenant provoked tensions as conservative and prosperity-oriented movements gained ground.

“The vision of Integral Mission promoted by René Padilla and Samuel Escobar was not well received by most American leaders within the evangelical movement. Their perspective did not align with the identity the Alliance sought to define and was eventually sidelined. This marginalisation is also visible in the official documentary produced by the movement itself, where Latin American voices are significantly minimised,” says Philippe Gonzalez, research professor at the University of Lausanne.

Experts agree that Lausanne, therefore, was not just a religious congress but the beginning of a global dispute over the meaning of faith in the modern world, particularly for theologians from Africa, Latin America and Asia.

“The majority of evangelical churches across these three continents received the Covenant as a sign that evangelicals from the Northern Hemisphere were finally willing to recognise that ‘social responsibility’ was not a mere supplement to the Gospel but an integral part of it,” says Stanley at the University of Edinburgh.

But the response from more conservative Protestant sectors within the Lausanne Movement still echoes today. Later gatherings, such as the Manila Congress in 1989 and the Cape Town Congress in 2010, reflected a renewed emphasis on traditional evangelism and moral issues, signalling the persistence of Global North influence. 

While the Lausanne Covenant had opened space for a socially engaged faith, subsequent meetings often steered the movement back towards themes of conversion, orthodoxy and mission expansion, showing how the tension between social transformation and doctrinal purity remains unresolved.

Stanley says that, 50 years on, Lausanne still reflects the central dilemma of global Christianity, a movement born in the name of unity yet divided by faith, politics and power.

Edited by Virginie Mangin/ts