The Greatest of These is Love: My Episcopalian Worship Experience

Mother Teresa once said “prayer, in action, is love and love, in action, is service”. From the moment I first read her words, I understood the greater power of my prayers. They were not idle words sent into the universe in hopes of better days. They were my ability to transform the life of someone else. It is not enough to verbally request that conditions be improved; my hands and feet must become involved in the work. My mother tells the story of me being 2 years and I, with tears in my eyes, packed all of my toys into a brown paper bag. She said I’d seen a commercial about children in Ethiopia and realized they had so little and I so much. I wanted their lives to be better and believed it could start with my dolls and train set.

Twenty seven years later, I am not far removed from the day I saw that commercial. I still want to live in service. I pray that God does the radical work within me that allows me to embody love in ways unimaginable. As I prayed for a more compassionate heart geared toward service, I became more intrigued by a denomination I always believed had their finger on the pulse of that: the Episcopal Church. My research of the Episcopal tradition took me beyond its early beginnings to learning more of the fight for racial and gender equality. As I read books like Yet With A Steady Beat: The African-American Struggle for Recognition in the Episcopal Church and Episcopal Women: Gender, Spirituality and Commitment in an American Mainline Denomination, I saw that all the steps taken by the Church were not easy but members challenged each other to personify the very love for which they worshipped God. And today, I admire the transparency of the Episcopal Church when it speaks of its plateaus and declines in membership. But most importantly, I admire how they refuse to allow that to impact their ability to serve the people of the world regardless of race, gender, age, class or sexual orientation. Because their love has always inspired me, I chose to visit this past Sunday. I attended St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Winston Salem, North Carolina.

St. Stephen’s has always been in the heart of the African-American Community and lends itself as a beacon of hope for so many. Though Sunday was my first time there, I had no idea how integral St. Stephen’s was to my growth and development. As a second grade student, my mother’s teacher asked her to speak before her St. Stephen’s congregation. As a child who was encouraged by my mother to speak before our church congregation and as an adult who has spoken in many churches across this country, it was humbling to worship among the same people who encouraged her all those years ago. Connecting much of my future to her past in that present was amazing.

There’s always the myth presented by so many unfamiliar with the Episcopal tradition that they do not read the Bible; that couldn’t be further from the truth. Though they use The Book of Common Prayer for services, it is filled with numerous passages of Scripture. The service I attended, known as the Holy Eucharist, was simplistic is nature but challenged me to a higher level of love in the grandest of ways. First, a member of the St. Stephen’s clergy entered the sanctuary with a service dog. I’d seen dogs before but never in a church! I can only imagine the love and warmth he must have experienced to feel comfortable to continue worshipping there. Too often those who do not look, act or seem like us are ostracized by the ones who profess to be so welcoming. Just in seeing him there, I was challenged to find ways to make the love I give more inviting to those different than me.

The pastor, a Ghanaian, delivered a sermon about mirrors reflecting what they see and being an opportunity to change what we see. Using a mirror as his prop, he showed us how God does the same thing. Through Him, we can see ourselves and change those things necessary to be even greater servants. I understood, then, why Episcopalians could lead lives of service. They concentrate on inward development that allows for a greater outward witness. That was also evidenced when the Bishop read the job openings he received that week and reminded the congregation of the members who worked in those places. The Bishop understood the need for collective work and responsibility to ensuring better lives for us all. If you can’t find a better way in the church, where can you go?

And it was in a special moment that I finally “got it”. Having read the Prayer of Saint Francis so many times, I was finally in a congregation of individuals who looked like me and shared some of the same experiences I did. It was in the same sacred place where my mother once spoke about having peace on earth and goodwill toward men that I said “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love.” Like Mother Teresa and Saint Francis, my desire should be that God use me to be the answer to whatever I pray. My desire should be that daily I strive to be a more willing vessel than I was before.

Since worshipping four days ago, I’ve begun to study the Episcopal Church more; I have even ordered my own Book of Common Prayer. St. Stephen’s is a special place. It was there I connected with a history of myself that made my journey make sense. It was there I saw love personified. It was there I was introduced to a higher sense of purpose. I was created to serve- to serve God and His people. Where is there is no love, I was designed to fill those places.

Selah and Amen.

CMB, ©2011

Righteous Salutations: Experiencing the United Church of Christ

I’ve grown up in church all my life. More specifically, I’ve grown up in the Black Baptist church all my life. My childhood is full of memories of lace dresses, Easter speeches and Sunday School. As a child, I would even imitate women catching the Holy Ghost and await the punishment that came every time I was caught red-handed. A member of Girl Scouts, a youth usher and choir member and one that was never afraid to stand before the congregation and speak, socially I gained my worth in the Church. I learned who I was and who I was meant to be there. And those lessons have successfully carried me through life.

Now, as a young woman, I admittedly stand at a crossroads. While I will never abandon the teachings and leadership of Christ that have sustained me thus far, I am beginning to question if I have always manifested them correctly. As our body of Believers remains divided on so many issues, I know I have not always stood on the right side and not because I completely agreed. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said “in the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.” In silence, I concurred with positions I do not believe.

I do not believe churches should ignore their responsibility to the poor and less fortunate.

I do not believe people should be persecuted and made uncomfortable to worship in the places I do because of their lifestyle.

I do not believe churches should remain silent as the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are denied to many.

And as I became more comfortable with what I didn’t believe, I knew my place of worship had to align with what I did. For the past year, I wondered if there was a place within the Baptist tradition for my views and positions. Did I still belong? The place the cradled me and challenged me to be my best self now seemed to alienate me, not in act but in ideal. As I shared my longing with my friends and others, I was encouraged to visit churches outside my denomination as I may find the peace in worship that I believed was becoming an illusion. And so, in January, I attended Parkway United Church of Christ in Winston Salem, North Carolina. The experience changed my life forever.

I’d come to know Parkway UCC through a colleague of mine. As a Sociology Instructor and she a member of the Humanities faculty, we would often swap classroom and life experience stories. We then learned, through conversation, that our position on the church was quite similar. She told me she’d found affirmation of her belief system within her UCC denomination and pulled up the website. I became so overwhelmed with emotion to read their banner “No Matter Where You Are On Life’s Journey, You Are Welcome Here”. Their belief that “God is still speaking” moved me in unimaginable ways. It was as if they recognized that because we are still here, God’s mission to spread love and peace remain active and He is still actively informing us on how to do it. The UCC has always been at the forefront of social justices in America since its inception and when the UCC decided to become an open and affirming denomination, they immediately received my respect. Someone needed to lead the charge in better treatment of all people and I was glad that it was them.

I attended Parkway the Sunday before Dr. King’s holiday during what they call their Healing and Silence ceremony. Before entering the service, I took the time to read some of the postings in the hallway. Many were information about local and national events; however, one in particular gave my heart the greatest joy. It was the story of an African-American lesbian student who received a scholarship from Parkway. This young lady’s ethnicity or lifestyle did not matter to a congregation committed to seeing her academically succeed. Though the only African-American attending service that day, I was amazed at the abundance of diversity within the congregation. Children of various ethnicities sat beside their gay mothers and enjoyed worship together. It was amazing. Not once did I feel out of place. Ironically, I felt like this is exactly where I was supposed to be. We prayed for the healing of our nation, our world and the pastor spoke of the importance of passing peace wherever we go. My heart smiled when the pastor told the congregation why the liturgist was absent and asked us to keep her dog in our prayers, as an emergency with him kept her away from service. As the mother of a 13 week old Italian mastiff, any denomination that recognizes the importance of praying for our pets is alright with me!

Probably the most moving moment came when the church was completely silent. Nothing could be heard except the sounds of the nature that enveloped the sanctuary. It was in those moments that I felt the closest to God. I thanked Him for allowing me to opportunity to see that I could love Christ and champion gay rights. I could believe in God and send my resources to third world countries, not because they should believe in my God too but, because they need them. I could be intentional in my commitment to being a better person and, consequently, effect greater change in this world than through any other means. I can be the love I feel is so missing among us today. I thank the UCC and Parkway for showing me that.

Indeed, I am welcome here.

CMB, ©2011

CNN Does Not Care About Black People

I had two previous installments to warn me. I should’ve known better. How could I have possibly thought “Black in America 3” would actually be about real Black people…..in America? Maybe it was the title “Almighty Debt” that got me. I envisioned this lively discussion about the wealth of Black churches in proximity to the poverty of Black communities. There would be conversation about the weekly intake of our congregations and how much of that is reinvested into our communities. I just knew questions about fiscal responsibility and social accountability would have to be asked and answered. But that would have required actual research, concise objectives and realistic examples- resulting in a show that made sense. And well….that’s not necessarily what we’ve come to expect from “the most trusted name in news”.

Instead CNN spent two hours showing America had badly in debt Black Christians are. Using a 2009 Pew Study, which found that African-Americans were the most religious and most giving to their religious organizations than the country as a whole, CNN somehow sought to draw parallels between Black debt and Black spirituality. (I know right?!) The special chronicled New Jersey Pastor DeForest Soaries’ attempt to pull African Americans from the muck of financial lack and three families, within his congregation, experiencing the very thing he preaches against with fervor. The Jeffries were facing foreclosure. The husband, a luxury car salesman, and his wife, a real estate broker, had not paid their mortgage in 26 months. Fred, a high school senior, has dreams of attending college but his single mother doesn’t have the resources to send him. Carl is a husband who has been unemployed for more than a year but diligently works to find his next job. Though extremely different circumstances, CNN showed they all had one thing in common: They believe God would make a way, as we say in the Black Church say, out of no way.

Can anyone at CNN please tell me when every African-American became a Christian? I’ll wait. Does my cousin, who is very much Black and hasn’t attended a service since he had to begin buying his own Easter clothes, not exist? Is my friend, a possessor of melanin and Buddhist beliefs, invisible? I know for a fact that both of them are broke. But given that their spiritual focus didn’t fit the limited scope of this documentary, their debt (and that of many like them) isn’t calculated into the astronomical figure with the rest of us Negroes who love Jesus. I understand it wasn’t CNN’s intention to show the varied experiences within Black America but for those who watch their commentaries and believe they’re really getting a glimpse into our lives, please know that not all Black people are Christians. While it is the faith to which many African-Americans subscribe, it is not the only one- if they subscribe to one at all. The Black religious experience is as assorted as the hues of our skin. And even among the millions of us who profess Christianity, we do not practice or engage at the same levels or with matching intensity. So for all who now believe every Black person knows that Nehemiah is in the Old Testament and has been given the Right Hand of Fellowship, I hate to disappoint you.

Therein lies the problem. Anyone who has ever taken a statistics course knows the importance of correlations. Variables must have a relationship in order to have an effect. Can anyone at CNN tell me the correlation between being a Black Christian and being in dire financial straits? Again, I’ll wait. And while CNN didn’t come out and say that they were suggesting a relationship between the two, the implication was strong enough. The underlying story of faith drove the entire documentary. Every other shot was a clip of a Sunday morning service. Cameras got close ups of Carl’s tears as he enjoyed a personal worship moment. And they even had Cece Winans singing “Oh the Blood of Jesus”. CECE WINANS!!!! “OH THE BLOOD OF JESUS”!!!! You can’t get much more Black Church than Cece Winans and “Oh the Blood of Jesus”. And what made CNN’s intention more clear was Soledad’s question to Carl’s wife. After learning they’re always $2000 short on bills but faithfully pay tithes each month, Soledad asks if they’ve ever thought not to pay tithes so they could pay their bills. Without hesitation, the wife says no. There were those watching who shook their heads in disbelief and others who nodded theirs in agreement. This is the problem when you unfairly link spirituality and financial conditions. Within the Christian faith, tithing is very important and Scriptures speak to it being a commitment between God and the believer. One tithes because they believe that percentage of their income does not belong to them, but to their savior. To suggest that Blacks who are broke and tithe are broke because they tithe mocks their belief in a way that is beyond unconscionable.

African-Americans are not in debt because they give money to their churches. African-Americans are in debt because structures of inequality still exist. Pastor Soaries is incorrect. Debt is not a bigger problem than racism; debt is a product of racism. When Blacks are still subject to poor education, higher rates of chronic diseases, poor or nonexistent health care, expensive yet inferior housing and higher rates of unemployment more than Whites, how is debt their fault? It’s easy to suggest that African-Americans are poor because they buy $500 shoes when they only make $22,000 a year. How much effort does it take to accuse someone of going into foreclosure because they bought more house than they could afford? You never offend the oppressor when you blame the oppressed. There’s nothing groundbreaking about blaming Black people for their problems. Surprise me by asking employers why African-Americans are still paid less than their White counterparts and sometimes not even hired for specific positions. Ask bank CEOs why they, for years, did not approve the home loans of Black applicants and- when they finally did- preyed on their desire to be homeowners, offering predatory adjustable rates that made foreclosure inevitable. I am not excusing the importance of personal responsibility but let’s not ignore the systematic forces that are constantly working to ensure disproportion.

But it’s easy to see how many would think those systematic forces no longer exist with the family CNN chose to profile. How many Black families do you know that are 26 months behind in mortgage payments but have the money in 401K accounts to pay it? Seriously, I’ll wait. I forgot Black families like the Jeffries came in such unlimited supply and were perfect illustrations of African-Americans in debt. Really, who doesn’t remember being a high school senior racking up $400 worth of credit card debt every month while your parents fight the bank to keep their house and their money? That was a much more accurate depiction than the scores of middle and working class Black families who scale back in lifestyle and work hard to simply remain afloat each month.

I could not escape the feeling that “Almighty Debt” was a poor attempt to explain and a thinly veiled attack of Black spirituality. When one of those profiled spoke of their faith in God to transform their situation, Soledad’s narration constantly reminded viewers of their dismal circumstances. It almost seemed sarcastic at times: “The poor young Black boy has no father, no brother and no money for college but he has Jesus. The Jeffries haven’t paid a mortgage in two years but know God is going to make way. Carl has filled out 300 applications but feels in his spirit this next job belongs to him.” The resilient spirit of African-Americans is nothing new. The same fortitude that carried us through the horrors of slavery and Jim Crow carries us through financial oppression and withheld resources. We always survive when everything purposes to kill us. Perhaps that is what’s most fascinating to those trying to understand us. But faith in the Black community isn’t believing that God will let you keep your house when you don’t pay your mortgage. Faith in the Black community is paying your rent and believing that God will one day allow you to own a home. Faith in the Black community isn’t praising God in advance that your credit card won’t get declined buying shoes you don’t need. Faith in the Black community is praising God in advance for finding a way to buy the shoes your child needs when the money is nowhere in sight. African-Americans, in totality, are not frivolous spenders who’d rather spend our last today than save for tomorrow. And we’re not these infantile dreamers who believe that some man sitting on a throne up in the clouds is going to give us everything we want even if we don’t work for it. We are an eclectic people who believe in many things but, most importantly, we believe in the power of ourselves to find creative ways to exist and thrive within a society that will do whatever it can to keep that from happening. That is who we are.


That is being Black in America.

In Order To Form A More Perfect Union: Beginning Healthy and Productive Dialogue on the State of the Black Church

Since news of a sex scandal involving prominent mega church pastor Bishop Eddie Long surfaced earlier this week, the Black Church has been in a tailspin. Though still disheartening, had just a few circumstances in this case been different, it would have been a little easier for the Church to digest. Had the accusers been women, this may have simply been the tale of a pastor with a roaming eye or a woman scorned. But that is not the case. The accusers, who speak candidly of Long’s victimization, are men- opening the tightly sealed can of worms that is sexuality, homophobia and the Black Church. A sensitive topic, the Church is now forced to confront an issue from which we have unnecessarily dodged. But is this the true issue at hand?

While, on the surface, this unfortunate situation sheds light on a subject too long ignored in the Black religious community, it also brings questions of leadership and accountability to the forefront. In the coming weeks and months, the legal aspect of Bishop Long’s scandal will be resolved. However, that will do nothing to heal the wound that has been inflicted on the credibility and integrity of the Black Church and those who lead it. Indeed, the Church has suffered a severe hit. But our recovery is dependent upon what we do now. The Church has seen scandal before. Be it sexual or financial impropriety, we have already been here. Unless we’d like to be here again, it is imperative that we conduct the self assessment that will lead to us exposing our flawed systems of practice and strengthening ourselves if our survival is desired.

So, let’s talk.

This need not be the traditional sugar cookies and watered down fruit punch Sunday afternoon meeting held where nothing gets resolved because people, tired from being in service all day, are ready to go home. This can’t even be the conversation that follows the standard “leadership talks for an hour and leaves five minutes for Q&A” format we see in congregations almost everywhere. No, this needs to be lengthy, uncomfortable, emotional dialogue that gets to fundamental problems, root causes and potential solutions. Action items, commitments to change and concrete steps to implement that change should be the outcome of such a gathering.

Yes, it will be necessary to speak to notions of class, gender, sexuality, leadership and fiscal responsibility and our questions should focused. In this dialogue, we should raise inquiry such as: Who are we and where are we? What do we teach and what do we believe? Who do we help and how do we help them? What do we spend and what do we give? Who have we healed and who have we hurt? What do we have and why do we have it? Who leads us and why do they lead? And even through creating the freedom to be allowed to ask and answer those questions honestly, our probe should go further:

What, if anything, has the modern day Black Church accomplished?

Why does the treatment of those who live alternative lifestyles by the Church completely contradict the love that saved the Church?

Why is our leadership no longer morally, professionally and financially accountable to membership?

Why does there remain a substantial difference between the economic prosperity of the Church and the economic poverty in the communities in which the Church is located?

Why do misogynistic practices remain that continue to sexually objectify women and neutralize their potential to be greater leaders within our faith?

Why has the Church not taken a more active role in assisting Black youth overcome the insurmountable odds they face?

Why has the Church not adequately prepared the next generations for leadership?

When did the Church become a business and no longer a social service agency?

Why did the Church abandon the liberation theology that freed us to embrace a prosperity gospel that is enslaving us?


This is not everything that needs to be asked and answered; the list of questions could become exhaustive. People want answers and deserve them. We can no longer move forward in the blind faith that God will make provision while we do not question how the resources we already have are being allocated. The cost has become too great to ignore our social responsibility to the community that has shouldered us. The treatment of women, children, gays and others by the Church has led to unconscionable pain and we must finally be held accountable. The Church must admit that in our quest to redeem the sinner, our own sins became great.

I would hope that the leaders of the denominations that govern our churches use this as an opportunity to create this kind of national dialogue. It is my desire that clergy come together locally to have citywide discussions and even create channels of communication within their own congregations. To ignore such a clear clarion call for conversation and change suggests that, as a collective, the Black Church remains unconcerned with our perception or believes the problems brewing within our walls are either trivial or nonexistent. Either position is not only destructive but perpetuates the agony many have suffered in silence for far too long.

No one knows how this particular situation will be resolved; neither do we know when we begin to learn of the many other instances of questionable activity that are occurring in congregations everywhere. What is known is that if we do not begin the honest conversation on where the Black Church is, where we are going and how we stand in our own way, we will never fully realize the potential of what we could become. And the far reaching consequences of such negligence are inconceivable.

Casualties of Spiritual Warfare (Part Two): The Black Church as a Weapon to Fight Against

As I was still processing my uncle’s loaded statement and thinking about the casualties in the Black Church’s war against structural inequality and institutionalized racism, my mind began to think of my friends who’d become disinterested in church because of the unnecessary politics. I thought about the stories many have shared with me about being abused and manipulated by church leadership. Then it hit me. Not only has the Church disengaged itself from being a weapon in spiritual warfare, it has created a new set of challenges that now makes it a weapon to be fought against in spiritual warfare.

We call it “church hurt”. Preachers include it in sermons and discuss it in Bible studies. Scholars have included it in books on healing and overcoming pain. However, church hurt does not nearly get as much discussion as necessary. It is sometimes impossible to conceive that the place where you are supposed to see the best of people is where you actually see the worst. Those who fight against it are ostracized. In essence, in the church, there is the battle between good and evil.

And as my uncle said, there are always casualties.

The Church has failed itself. Unaccountable and pious leadership, irresponsible spending, an inability to transition from tradition and a failure to meet the needs of membership have been some of the key contributors to some of the problems the Church has faced. It is not the problems itself but the reluctance to identify and find solutions to them that cause the fatalities in this particular war. The casualties are found in three categories.

Physical Death

In the Scriptures, any time there was a battle (physical or spiritual) there was a death. In war, they are called “necessary casualties”; sometimes people have to die in order for the mission to be accomplished. It is the same in the realm of the Spirit. On one hand, salvation could not have been possible without a death. We are grateful for that necessary casualty. But what about those deaths we didn’t realize were integral to the manifestation of God’s purpose and plan? So many find refuge in Isaiah 6 because of its description of the majesty of God. They can quote the first verse with ease: “In the year King Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple.” Has anyone ever stopped to find out who King Uzziah was? His story begins in II Chronicles when, at the age of 16, he became the king of Israel after his father was killed. Though he helped restore Israel to its former glory, Uzziah later got arrogant. He asserted himself higher than God in worship and disobeyed the laws set forth. When the elders confronted him, Uzziah remained firm in his defiance. God afflicted Uzziah with leprosy as a consequence and he spent the rest of his life in seclusion; his son served as king in his absence. While Uzziah was “away”, he was still king and Israel was under the submission of a king who violated God’s command and refused to accept his responsibility. When he died, it was as if Israel was freed again. In order for Israel to begin to “see” God in the way they had before, Uzziah had to be removed from the situation and death was the only option.

Though not documented, I know many churches that have experienced a “freedom” or sorts after a death in their congregation. It may have been a member who bucked against new ideas at every step or tormented leadership and other members. It may have been a pastor who ruled the church with an iron fist with little to no compassion for the sheep he was entrusted. It may have been a faithful and dedicated member, whose death caused leadership and the congregation to reflect and reevaluate. Additionally, down through the years, stories were told of those who “grieved themselves to death” behind a hurt they experienced in the Church. Sadly, extreme hurt like this is not uncommon in Black Churches. Regardless of the circumstances, when war has to be waged against God’s house so that it can be set in order, the consequences may include the loss of physical life.

Spiritual Death

Possibly more detrimental than physical death is a spiritual one. Ultimately, the end of life is a decision no longer in the hands of the individual. Spiritual death can be likened to a form of suicide, as the individual chooses to starve their spiritual beings because of a hurt experienced in the Church. Scriptures admonishes us to study to show ourselves approved, commune together with fellow saints and crave spiritual food as babies crave milk; but a person who has experienced church hurt can do anything from stopping church attendance to abandoning the faith altogether. For instance, the largest demographic missing in the Black Church is African-American men. While this trend has been studied, most Black men attribute their absence from church to an incident or series of negative interactions they or someone closed to them faced. Spiritual death is one of the greatest threats to the development of future generations of ministry leaders and lay workers.

It is important to know that while everyone may not experience spiritual death and become a casualty of spiritual warfare, many suffer with great spiritual fatigue. It is important to note that this fatigue is not as extreme as a spiritual death because those affected may still attend and work diligently in church and do all necessary to affirm their faith outside of their congregational commitments. It is also important to state that spiritual fatigue may not even be a result of church hurt. Victims of spiritual fatigue are simply those who’ve grown weary of consistently doing “right” with no sight of a reward. They are those who have tired in the midst of the manifestation of God’s work in their life. Honestly, it’s not difficult to do. Whether it’s a professional, personal or spiritual goal set, if it seems that it will take an eternity to accomplish, it is easy to give up and become frustrated. Churches that do not provide constant support in this area, through preaching, teaching and other assistance, perpetuate fatigue. If spiritual fatigue is ignored, it can easily lead to spiritual death.

Church Flight

As we look at the battle against the Church, casualties we cannot afford to ignore are those who leave one church and seek membership elsewhere because the problems encountered and hurt experienced there were too great. In his 1990 study, “Explaining the Church Member Rate”, Bainbridge found that social bond theory was the greatest indicator of why a member would join and remain with a congregation. When people form strong bonds within a congregation, they are likely to stay there and be integral and committed to the work of that church. However, a severely negative encounter can cause one to abandon that commitment. Church flight makes it extremely difficult to assess church growth and the impact the faith has on nonbelievers. Also, this abandonment causes the gifts necessary for the growth and development to be stripped.

How does it feel to have the place where you’re supposed to lay your burdens become where you pick up more of them? What do you do when the person you worship God with is the one who wounds you? The Church has allowed itself in many ways to become a sanctuary where more are hurt than healed. If The Church desires to become a weapon that we fight principalities with and not a weapon that we fight against, it must take the necessary steps to rid itself of the demonic forces that is causing it to kill itself.






©CMB, 2010 (08.04)

Casualties of Spiritual Warfare (Part One): The Black Church as a Weapon to Fight With

Sunday evening, I was discussing with my family the current state of Black churches. As I was telling my uncle how my heart was breaking for those who are subjected to what seems to be constant attempts to manipulate and control, my uncle simply said “Well, you know there are casualties of spiritual warfare too. We just don’t talk about them.”


Wait….what???

There are casualties of spiritual warfare?!

I listened intently as my uncle talked about how, in war, there are always casualties; it’s inescapable. A soldier who enlists in the army knows there is a possibility military personnel will knock on the door of a loved one to inform them of their death. Knowing this, they take the oath to serve anyway. Saints in the church of old would sing confidently “I’m on the battlefield for my Lord. Yes, I’m on the battlefield for my Lord. And I promised Him that I would serve Him until I die. I’m on the battlefield for my Lord!” Though they sang with such conviction of their commitment to the faith and the commander of the army, even they didn’t dream their death could possibly be at the hands of the organism created to sustain them: The Church.

But that’s what’s happening.

Today’s church, though still an esteemed institution, is just a shell of what it used to be. Scholar W.E.B. Du Bois asserted that while the Black Church was the center of African-American life, the church had six major functions. They were 1) the raising of the annual budget, 2) the maintenance of membership, 3) social intercourse and amusements, 4) the setting of moral standards, 5) promotion of general intelligence and 6) efforts for social betterment. Though each function is necessary to the progression of the church and African-American community, the last function Du Bois identified is of importance to this discussion. The task of Black congregations was to provide the type of assistance that enabled its members, and those in the community, to successfully thrive in society. Paramount needs in the African-American community were education and mentoring, substance abuse and health prevention, job training and employment assistance. Those needs remain the same today. Because its mission is as social as it is spiritual, combating these issues in its community is the battle Black Churches must be prepared to fight. Through this, they engage in spiritual warfare.

But what is spiritual warfare?

Almost every Christian can recite Ephesians 6:10-12: “Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand again the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” We use it to explain the concept of spiritual warfare, which is a demonic attempt to prevent God’s will from being manifested in the earth. Pastors preach this text. Emails circulate daily with instructions on how the enemy is defeated and how God’s children reign victorious. Yet, has anyone asked the Church exactly what they’re fighting? It’s easy for the Church to say it’s fighting Satan but fighting him in what? When the Black Church tackles the issues plaguing the community in which it’s housed, it is engaging in spiritual warfare. But do we see it that way? As a Sociologist, I understand structural inequality. I understand how capitalism is constructed to systematically oppress. In the natural realm, institutionalized racism is credited for disparities in economics, education, employment, health and housing. However, in the realm of the spirit, I know that because structural inequality and institutionalized racism are evil, they are controlled by forces that completely contradict the force that established the Church. For that reason alone, it has to fight it. But is it winning?

All roads lead to that answer being No. When examining data from The National Congregations Study and The Institute of Church Administration and Management, less than 60% of Black Churches have ministries addressing the target areas critical to the growth of the African American community. This does not negate the great strides many churches are making in the area of community development but national statistics speak for themselves. With an unemployment rate of 15.4%, high school graduation rates vacillating between 50 and 60% and African-Americans dying at faster rates due to a significant number of health disparities, it would seem as if the Church’s arms have become tired.

On any given Sunday, it is impossible not to hear someone sing or say “The battle is not ours; it is the Lord’s.” While that is true, it is still necessary that we suit up and prepare for the fight. The African-American community cannot afford to be defenseless against the demonic forces of structural inequality and institutionalized racism and the Black Church can’t bear the cost of not being a defender. As the Black Church could not separate its social ideology from its spiritual convictions during the Civil Rights Movement, so it must be today. There’s a war going on and we can’t keep killing our civilians when we’re supposed to be protecting them.




©CMB, 2010 (08.04)

There Is No Fear

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. – 1 John 4:18 (NIV)

Love is such a novelty, a rarely painted masterpiece.

A place few people go or ever know.

An underwater rocket love- exactly what I'm searching for.

You're brave enough to go? Tell me so.

Say you'll go to Nirvana. Will you leave Samsara?

In the words of Dhammapada: Who will lead? Who will follow?

Our love will sail in this ark. The world could end outside our window.

Let's find forever and write our name in fire on each other's hearts.

– “Say You’ll Go”, Janelle Monae

 I had a conversation with someone who has become very special to me last night. I shared a shared a prayer I’d been praying concerning them. Recognizing that it’s all about purpose, my prayer was that God allowed them to gain greater perspective in their walk with Him and so that God’s purpose for our interactions would be clear to us and as effective as possible. Though I may have desires on what I’d like that to be, I realize that what I want doesn’t have anything to do with what God plans for me to have. And I am not afraid of whatever that is.

Why?

Because there is no fear in love.

and God is love.

Therefore, there is no fear in God.

When God brings something into your life, He’s only bringing more of Himself.

I went to bed with an assurance that my prayer would yield more love, more Him- regardless the design. And, amazingly, when I saw the sun this morning, I welcomed the biggest smile I could. It was something about seeing that particular portrait of Heaven that told me more love was on the way and I had absolutely nothing to fear.

And after hearing Janelle Monae, I believed it.

Today, I experienced how beautiful love sounds when it’s set to music. It is majestic. I smiled. I believed. And as soon as she said “Love is such a novelty- a rarely painted masterpiece”, I cried. I mean I cried. My heart began to bleed for people who don’t know what it means to love- to have the love of God, self, community, humanity….ecology. People are suffering when they don’t have to be. And it takes a great deal to decide you’ll stop hurting- which underscores Janelle’s desire.

Say you'll go to Nirvana. Will you leave Samsara?

In the words of Dhammapada: Who will lead? Who will follow?

Our love will sail in this ark. The world could end outside our window.

Let's find forever and write our name in fire on each other's hearts.

In Eastern religions (particularly Buddhism), Nirvana, Samsara and Dhammapada are the equivalent of the Christian’s Heaven, Hell and the Word of God. In essence, she’s asking if we believe experiencing freedom is worth ending suffering, with only love to sustain us and endure.

You can’t possess love and be afraid to share it.

You can’t desire love and be afraid to receive it.

You can’t crave freedom and be afraid to embrace it.

You can’t request purpose and be afraid to realize it.

You cannot be afraid.

There can be no fear in love.

There can be no fear in God.

That doesn’t mean love won’t hurt. It does. It is not easy. But even in that, God allows our pain to be productive and manufacture higher and necessary dimensions of love in order to be what we need and who we need to be.

If it’s even possible, my smile is bigger and brighter.

I am not afraid.

I am not afraid.

I am not afraid.



©Candice Marie Benbow, 2010