The most widely published book in human history tells us we are created in the image of God.

If that’s true, then the way real people actually believe, doubt, switch, and improvise their faith matters a great deal more than the tidy boxes on a survey.

On a recent episode of Created in the Image of God, I spoke with Dr. Arlene M. Sánchez‑Walsh, one of the leading scholars of Latino religion in the United States. She is:

Professor of Religious Studies
Author of the award‑winning Latino Pentecostal Identity: Evangelical Faith, Self, and Society (Columbia University Press, 2003)
A media expert for outlets like The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and On Being with Krista Tippett
A contributor to PBS’s God in America
Currently writing on Pentecostalism in America, Latinos/as and the prosperity gospel—and, crucially, the rise of nonbelief among Latinos/as

In other words, she doesn’t just have opinions; she has decades of research, fieldwork, and listening behind what she says.

Here are 5 takeaways from our conversation about what U.S. Latinos actually believe—and why it matters.

1. The Old 90% Catholic Picture Is Gone

For a long time, the rule of thumb was simple:

About 90% of U.S. Latinos identified as Catholic
Roughly 10% were Protestant
“Nones” (no religious affiliation) barely registered

That was still broadly accurate in the 1970s.

Not anymore.

Recent surveys paint a very different picture:

Catholic: somewhere in the low‑40s%
Protestant / evangelical: a growing slice (including newer arrivals from Brazil, Guatemala, El Salvador, Costa Rica, etc.)
Religiously unaffiliated (“nones”): approaching a third of U.S. Latinos in some studies

In Arlene’s words: “The 90/10 split is no longer true.”

Why this matters

If you still instinctively think “Latino = Catholic,” you’re at least a generation behind reality. Political strategists, pastors, and pundits often talk as if they’re dealing with a solid Catholic bloc. They’re not.

And if we genuinely believe each person bears the image of God, we can’t afford to treat tens of millions of people as a monolith when the ground under their feet has shifted this dramatically.

2. Religious Identity Is Fluid—Even If Leaders Pretend It Isn’t

One of Arlene’s core research interests is religious switching—what sociologists call conversion, and reconversion. She puts it bluntly: religion is not static.

People:

Move in and out of churches
Change denominations
Drift into non‑affiliation
Weave together pieces from different traditions

They do this for all kinds of reasons: family dynamics, politics, personality, spiritual experience, disappointment, hope.

Meanwhile, many pastors and priests still operate with an unspoken model:

“If we teach the right doctrine and maintain the right boundaries, we’ll hold people. If they leave, they didn’t really belong.”

Arlene’s fieldwork shows a different reality. Even as clergy insist the flock is secure, people in the pews are quietly thinking:

“Next week I’m going to try that other church.”
“I’m done with institutional religion.”
“I’ll go back to being Catholic when my parents visit, but otherwise I’m at the Pentecostal church down the street.”

Why this matters

If clergy and institutions insist on seeing identity as fixed, they’ll misread what’s actually happening in their communities. They’ll also be blindsided by losses they could have seen coming.

On the flip side, recognizing that religious identity is dynamic creates room for more honest pastoral care—and more honest scholarship. It also reminds the rest of us that when we meet someone “as a Catholic” or “as an evangelical,” we’re often encountering just one chapter in a longer, more complex story.

3. Freedom—and Anonymity—Supercharge Religious Experimentation

When Arlene asks people why they changed their religious affiliation after arriving in the U.S., a common answer surfaces:

Freedom.

In many tight‑knit villages in Mexico or Central America—especially in heavily Catholic regions—you do not simply announce you’re leaving the Church to become Protestant. Social cost is real. Your religious life is intertwined with family, festivals, rites of passage, and community reputation.

In the U.S., you have:

Freedom: You’re allowed to change. There’s no state church. Religious choice is normalized.
Anonymity: In a city like Los Angeles, Houston, or Boston, you can slip into another church—or out of church altogether—without the whole village knowing by evening.

Add to that the American habit of offering choices in every domain—education, products, media—and it’s not surprising that people begin to see religion as another area where you can “shop around.”

Arlene stressed that this isn’t just about rejecting old structures. Many Latino immigrants use this freedom constructively: to find smaller, more relational churches; to hear preaching in their own idiom; to explore questions they never could have voiced back home.

Why this matters

This undercuts two simplistic stories:

That Latinos are abandoning faith because America is “corrupting” them.
Or that conversion is only the result of Protestant “sheep‑stealing.”

What’s actually happening is more human and more complex: people are using new freedoms to seek communities and expressions of faith that make sense of their lives in a new country.

Whether we see that as gain or loss, we should at least see it clearly.

4. Evangelical Churches Offer Cultural Continuity, Not Just Doctrine

One of the more surprising insights from Arlene’s fieldwork is that Latino evangelicals aren’t always leaving their culture by leaving Catholicism. In some ways, they are trying to preserve it.

In many large urban parishes, you can feel:

Anonymous—one of thousands
Linguistically or culturally distant from clergy, who may not share your dialect or background

By contrast, in a small Latino evangelical or Pentecostal church (often 20–75 people), you might find:

A pastor who speaks your Spanish, complete with your regional accent
Leaders who come from your province or even your extended network
Services that feel like family gatherings: eating together, checking in, praying over each other’s needs

Arlene’s interviewees often described these churches less in doctrinal terms and more in relational and cultural terms. They liked the preaching, yes—but they also liked that “mi pastor” really knew them.

For some, joining an evangelical congregation was a way to maintain language and cultural ties across generations, especially when their children were rapidly assimilating into English‑dominant environments.

Why this matters

Again, it complicates the simplistic narrative:

It’s not just “doctrine vs. doctrine.”
It’s also “who sees me, who speaks my language, who feels like home?”

If we only look at Latino conversion through the lens of theology or politics, we’ll miss this human layer. And if we’re trying to build communities that reflect the image of God, that layer—of being seen, known, and spoken to in one’s own voice—is not optional.

5. The Rise of Latino “Nones” Changes the Map Completely

For most of the 20th century, Latino “nones” were an afterthought in the data—barely a rounding error.

That’s no longer true.

Arlene highlighted a generational pattern that now shows up consistently:

First generation: Often stay with the religion they brought—historically Catholic, now also including evangelical identities from Latin America.
Second generation: This is where the drop‑off is sharp. Many become religiously unaffiliated.
Third/fourth generation: Some return to the roots their parents or grandparents left—“I didn’t have a choice, now I’m choosing Catholicism,” or vice versa. Others stay unaffiliated, or find their way into totally different traditions.

What’s crucial is that many Latino “nones” do not want the usual labels:

They may not call themselves atheist or agnostic.
They may still pray, still believe “something,” still participate in cultural religious events (baptisms, funerals, fiestas).
But they actively decline affiliation with formal religious institutions.

Arlene’s current research focuses specifically on this rise of nonbelief and non‑affiliation among Latinos/as.

Why this matters

If your mental model is “Latinos are either Catholic or evangelical,” you’re now missing a third, rapidly growing category.

For churches, that means:

Ministry models that assume everyone wants to pick some church are outdated.
The apologetics playbook written for secular white baby boomers may not match the questions Latino “nones” are actually asking—or not asking.

For politics, it means:

The “Latino Catholic vote” is a shrinking share of a much more complex whole.
Appeals that assume religious language will automatically resonate may fall flat—or even backfire.

Most importantly, it means the image of God is being expressed in ways that don’t always fit our inherited categories of “religious” vs. “secular.” If we care about people more than labels, we’ll need to listen more and assume less.

None of this is tidy. That’s exactly why it’s valuable.

Dr. Sánchez‑Walsh’s work reminds us that Latino faith in America is:

Generational
Fluid
Deeply entangled with migration, language, politics, and family
And far more diverse than the old 90% Catholic line ever suggested

If we want to build truly vibrant communities that honor the image of God in everyone, we’ll have to grapple with that complexity—not wish it away.

Sneak Peek: Next Week on Created in the Image of God

Next week, we’ll turn from religious demography to a story that brings many of these themes down to ground level—a single life, a single journey, told through fiction.

I’ll be joined by Lee Ann Walling, a journalist‑turned‑novelist whose moving road‑trip story: The Salt and Light Express follows an older woman traveling across an increasingly divided America, wrestling with grief, memory, and a lifetime of shifting spiritual experience.

We’ll talk about:

How Leanne’s own journey through multiple denominations shaped her as “a follower of Jesus”
What she discovered about small and large churches—Episcopal, diverse, not so diverse—along the way
And how storytelling can open space for honest reflection in a culture that often wants simple slogans instead of complex lives

If you’ve ever felt like your own spiritual path doesn’t fit neatly into one box, you won’t want to miss this conversation.

Join me next week at 8:00 p.m. Central on Created in the Image of God.